#like at subway i still had to like. wait for something. usually the next person coming in for their shift

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

It keeps randomly hitting me that I have a "grown up job"

It feels fake

[holybibly]

Divine Rosa  ❢ot8xreader❣ 

❣ Pairing: yandere!otx8 x reader

❣ Genre: Dark Romance, vampire au, angst, horror, yandere au, smut

❣ Word Count: 10.1k

❣ Summary: The moth always pours itself into the flame; what a pity that in the end it burns out. After the tragic death of her sister, MС tries to find answers to the questions she left behind. This leads her to a gated cottage town known for its luxurious rose gardens. In addition, there are also these mysterious men who manage all the affairs in the city. Too sweet, too helpful, too intrusive, and too in love.

❣ WARNING: only!18+ Themes of death, suicide, severe depression, stalking, blood, yandere behavior.

❣ Disclaimer: I don't support yandere behavior, stalking, or religious imposition. Themes include violence, obsession, possessiveness, and emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended solely for entertainment purposes.

❣ Chapter 1: Memento Mori ❣

Have you ever thought about death?

How many times have you asked yourself, “What will happen to us next?” “Is there something on the other side?” “Will we see the shining light at the end of the tunnel and the white-winged angels, or is it just darkness waiting for us?”

We constantly reflect on this, sitting in the noisy company of friends, frozen for a moment in cold numbness; late at night, when there is no sleep and gloomy thoughts creep into your head; on the subway, bus, or taxi returning home from work or school, desperately understanding the desperation of their situation; recurring days in endless solitude.

We should stop doing that. When the time comes, we will ask ourselves other, more important questions.

Nevertheless, we tirelessly continue to be interested in it. Again and again, until our clock stops.

Sometimes I think all we have after we die are flowers and regrets. In our soul, heart, and mind, every second, there are many events that do not obey any rules of formal logic. All that we lose at death. There is no longer the privilege of choice that we had in life; now we have to settle for small, choking on despair and memories, staring into our own reflection on a silver epitaph.

“Our love will stay with her forever.” It would sound like a dream if it weren’t such a dirty lie.

I don’t think love exists. It’s like a sweetener: we feel sweetness, but the brain realizes it's fake, sending out red signals warning of deception. But we still desperately crave this feeling, however painful it may be.

And yet, after death, our lives go on, and in some special cases, we find ourselves more alive than ever before.

It's our time to watch as the new story unfolds, and the usual roles are played by other actors. New names appear on the waiting list, and celebratory ribbons are given to the new queens. See how fake diamonds sparkle in their luxurious crowns. Despite that, you’re the star of this show. Your name is in the news, in the bold headlines on the front pages of newspapers, and every casual passer-by claims to have known you personally while you still existed in a small, closed time period called life.

So what does it feel like to be the only spectator in the front row? The main subject of general regret.

In our cooled consciousness, a sharp conviction of our own uselessness is born and settles. Friends we used to call the best put your stuff in boxes with ribbons of tape. A family that tears the remnants of your life apart, erasing your name from the family register with a sickeningly straight line of black ink. Acquaintances and colleagues, always smiling with an astringent sweetness that glues their teeth, easily remove your number from the contact list and open their palms in a welcoming gesture to those who came to take your place.

All of them, all these people close to us, express their false regrets about your untimely departure, putting a tick in front of the memorized phrase: “Ah, we are so sorry. She was young and beautiful.” Is that what they usually say?

That’s all; our race for popularity is over. The rules of good manners and standards of appearance no longer matter. Your thoughts, actions, and preferences belong only to you, and at this very moment, we feel freedom. Short time, but still freedom.

It is only a short moment until the lid of the coffin closes completely over us. And here we are, face to face with our past, alone.

As hard as it may be for us to admit it, it's true. All that remains for us after death is regret.

Each of us has our own. Someone feels regret for the love that he could not protect and the loved ones that he has lost forever. We regret the things we’ve done and the words we haven’t said, but most of all, we regret the time we’ll never get back.

The dead mourn more than the living.

Besides regrets, we’re taking flowers with us. Yes, these beautiful creatures are leaving with us to one day wrap around our bones, sever the grayish subtlety of our skin, and grow again above the ground, eating us like a parasite. 

The flowers also symbolize the grand finale of our celebration. When the music dies down and the curtain falls, they will be the only ones who will stay side by side while the guests leave the lavishly decorated hall one by one.

Have you noticed how many bouquets are brought to cemeteries?

I like to think of it as a peculiar payment for our rest. Maybe death is as in love with these deliciously fragile things as we are, and that’s why they’re leaving with us. Silent companions who hold our hand as we go into the darkness.

The path to the origins of the great Sanzu River is paved with bloody lycoris and mournful lilies. Truly a magnificent sight. Ugly and beautiful are two sides of the same coin.

When I was little, Mina told me many different stories. Some warmed my cheeks and stretched my lips in a happy smile; others were gray, like days with incessant downpours. I wrapped myself in blankets and warmed my palms with warm cups of herbal tea, but there were other stories that I didn't want to remember until now.

They were sinister, like a spider hovering on a web waiting to be sacrificed. The words were sharp; they pierced the skin, leaving long, stinging wounds. Meaning has always been terrible; like a blade in the tongue, it could not be swallowed and understood. I was afraid. I was scared to death. I could not sleep in the light of a bright day or in the mist of a starry night; in the coziness of the blankets, there was no warmth or protection, and the mocking laughter of Mina made it worse.

My grandmother scolded her and assured me that all this was nonsense, empty words, and legends formed from idleness, but I knew better. There was truth in Mina's stories, and the realization of this only made them scarier.

The most terrible of them was the story of a young man in black silk robes. Beneath the black veil was a sensual smile, and the fox's heterochromic eyes were alluring and sparkling like stars.

Was he a nine-tailed kumiho? A black reaper holding death itself on a leash? He may have been a vampire, desperate and thirsty, but personally, I was sure he was a ghost. A past woven into a single canvas, thread by thread, stitch by stitch. I think I saw him once, during the Lunar Festival. He was the center of my little universe, the otherworldly and inexplicable, his long black clothes flowing to the ground like a waterfall, and the diffused light of the treacherous moon embraced his silhouette like a caring mother’s embrace.

I thought the world was dancing around him. The children were running around laughing and circling like butterflies in the round dance; the couple were whispering nicely, their palms intertwined tightly, as if it would save them from the inevitable parting; and the others were simply enjoying the festival time, waiting for the sheaves of colorful fireworks to explode in the sky.

His eyes pierced my figure so greedily and sharply. I saw hunger in them. A thirst. A goal. 

And then I screamed. So loud and disgusting in a childish way. With a shrill screech, I rushed into the crowd, hoping to find Mina. The colorful ribbons in my hair rushed into the air, and the wind bore me the echoes of his sweet laughter.

He was mocking me. I could have run, but he could have caught me in a second if he wanted to. For a moment, I looked back to make sure that he was still standing there, covered with moonlight and a myriad of stars, but the long, flowing silk of his black robes melted like a mist in the night without leaving a trace.

Mina laughed mockingly as I clung to the lush skirts of her violaceous hanbok, sobbing, choking with tears, and pointing my finger in the direction where I saw the young man with the fox’s eyes.

After that incident, I didn’t sleep for days, couldn’t eat, and was afraid of every noise.

From that night on, I began to believe in ghosts. They are among us. We can see them, reach them, and hear their whispering voices. Science cannot explain them; they are not subject to it. They are mistakenly called fictions, twisted forms of memories that acquire real outlines and are indistinguishable from the real world.

Science calls it imagination; I call it another form of life. Ghosts exist. They’re always there.

The line between the dead and the living is thin and fragile. If you push it a little harder, it’ll shatter.

It’s true—life after death exists.

I was told once that death is like being submerged in water. First, the lungs start to burn from a lack of oxygen; the body gets heavier; the eyes are baking, but we’re still conscious; and the brain continues to function. Then comes the next step. Our body desperately clings to life, continuing to contract the heart muscle. Bam, bam, bam. Deaf blows on the rib. If you start acting now, there is little hope of salvation. No more than a minute. And then, after that, there’s the final stage. Clinical death. Smooth stripe on the monitor.

Our sinking is over. We have reached the bottom. We have met eternity in the muddy depths, blended with the muddy sand and pearls.

That may be true, but for me, death is no more than a moment—until the last flowers on the grave fade.

I never thought about dying. Until it happens to Mina.

The first time I met death, it was with my first breath. I was born with silence—too small, too fragile, and painfully quiet.

Then there were the piercing sounds of medical devices and the screams of doctors and assistants. I was taken away instantly and carried far into the sterile, transparent box. Death retreated, but it didn’t go away.

I was only three when my parents died. Mina was squeezing my hands and talking about a long journey. Grandma took us to her old country house, where secrets were hidden and hyacinths blossomed. At the time, the very concept of grief was not clear and tangible to me; rather, the feeling was like frostbite, when the skin was already dead, but the pain was absent.

So I knew death before I even knew it.

My grandmother died suddenly. Her life was cut short in an instant, like a thread brought to the flame. I knew it; it seemed long before it happened. That summer, I was going to be at a ballet camp, and Mina was the star of the school, and she was planning on spending time with her cheerleading friends. Just one call changed all our plans. Short skirts and ballet points replaced chrysanthemums and black ribbons. Mina was grieving, taking condolences, while I watched from the sidelines. Grandma's leaving seemed like a dull pain from an old injury rather than a sharp cut, and it was easier to deal with than I thought.

This was the third time I'd known death.

And then Mina happened.

The passionate, bloody, grandiose Mina's death. By closing my eyes, I could see her face again. White, sun-drenched, and blood roses, her long fluttering eyelashes, and scattered carmine strands of hair.

She was not at all afraid to die, as if this scenario had been memorized by her. Isn't it an innate instinct, a fear of the unknown, of death? We are frightened by monsters under the bed and horrors lurking in dark corners. We must be afraid of death. We are obliged to do this from the very moment we are born.

Mina was not afraid. She was never afraid of anything, unlike me.

Spiders, darkness, roses…

The list goes on.

When she died, I realized two things: one, nothing lasts forever, and two, I wanted to know what happened to my sister and what became her trigger. Big red button. At my request, an autopsy was conducted to rule out a drug-induced hypothesis that could have caused mental and emotional distress. Forensics found nothing in her lungs except rose petals. Mina literally breathed flowers. It sounded almost fantastical to me. Even her death was beautiful. Forever the first violin in the orchestra. 

The case of her mysterious disappearance was closed. There was no point in looking for someone who was already dead. I asked the detectives to continue the investigation, but despite my desperate pleas, the police were adamant. My sister’s once-radiant life was packaged in a pair of cardboard boxes with a large-scale signature in black marker. “An Mina, case 117”. With each passing day, everything about Mina sank into darkness, but the mysteries and secrets around her only grew larger.

Once upon a time, I could call Mina an open book. It was easy to read—all the emotions, character traits, and habits—everything in it was exaggerated; there was no middle. Her love was never a simple hobby; it was always sharp, risky, and passionate.

Perhaps that is why she so easily fell into an obsession with roses; her feelings took a dangerous path.

I wanted to know who gave her these fabulous roses, who sent her candy and little sweet notes. There was something wrong with all of this, and not just the fact that the lush pink buds didn’t fade. No. It was a feeling, something very ominous, like a calm before a hurricane. A frightening, unnatural silence when all is silent and the air is gathering in front of the thunder's stunning storms.

There’s a long, unrequited tranquility on the other side of the phone line.

In the Japanese language, there is the expression “koi no yokan,” which literally means the feeling of inevitable love for the person you first met. This is not love at first sight, but a premonition of future love. So it was with these roses; they were not evil as such, but they were the inevitable omen of his coming.

True evil does not come in the form of a little red man with sharp horns and a long tail. Evil is beautiful—almost religiously magnificent. His appearance is divine and seductive, attracting the sweetness of the forbidden. Of course, the Devil himself was once an angel. And not just anyone; he was God’s favorite.

So are these flowers. I’ve never heard of people falling in love with soft petals and spiny stems. No one ever sings strange prayers for roses and dedicates his life to them without a trace. Those roses were bigger than they looked.

I think that Mina’s death was not accidental; it wasn’t suicide. Something broke her, violated her mind, and eventually destroyed her. Whether they were roses or people who gave them, that was my question. It was a secret hidden in the white folds of her lace dress, the dreamy smiles, and the names she spoke with such awe.

During Mina's funeral, I was approached by one of the lawyers who handled her legal affairs. I had to sort out the property rights and the lots of pages with numbers, dates, and places. Mina left me not only secrets but also a great legacy. As it turned out, in addition to our common apartment, she had several other assets in her possession, including her grandmother's mansion, which at one time she received as a sole inheritance, shares in various companies, and investments abroad.

I am now the sole owner of all this.

I had no idea where to start looking for answers or where to find the keys to the secret locks. Maybe I can find something in her files between the lines and the capital letters, or maybe it’s all dry formalities. So, going to the lawyer sounded like a good start to me.

How many can hide from those who command our last will?

Even so, I didn't want to be alone with Mina's secrets if I could find something in her belongings. I decided to call Soomin, who was once Mina’s best friend, the closest, to be exact. She was always there, having fun and crying with Mina, supporting and comforting when needed. Soomin was an integral part of her life. My life.

After the incident with the roses, they split up, not on the best of terms. Their conversation completely ended, but I still continued to spend time with her, and we often went to brunch at various gourmet cafés that Soomin loved so much. She was an elite restaurateur and had great taste, not only in the interior but also in food.

In a way, she completely replaced my sister. Soomin always told me, “No orgasm can ever match a stunningly cooked fondant au chocolat”. Yeah, I could totally agree with her on that.

After dialing her number, I waited for an answer. The wait was not too long, and after the second tone, I heard the melodic voice of Soomin on the other side. “Hello” “Soomin, I'm sorry to distract you from work; can you give me a few minutes?

“Sarang? I can’t believe you finally called me. How are you feeling, honey? I’ve been really worried about you, you haven’t spoken to any of us all this time.” In her voice, there was a sincere concern that resembled a mother's. 

Soo has always been so caring and gentle. In her was the same fascinating brightness that Mina possessed, which brought them very close and became the strong foundation of their friendship, but unlike Mina, who resembled a raging forest fire, Soomin was a comforting flame of home. One was ready to destroy everything around her; the other collected ashes in beautiful vases and kept them as precious memories.

After Mina died, she was there for me when I especially needed support.

“Sorry, Soomin, I’m still trying to get over it." I sounded exhausted, even to myself. The days spent in voluntary isolation completely drained me emotionally and physically. I was the alarm of danger light for my friends. “You know, when she went missing, it was hard for me, but I was still hoping she’d come back. I convinced myself that Mina was fine and that she was enjoying life surrounded by her favorite roses.” It was the first time I had spoken openly about my feelings since Mina’s death. “I never imagined that my sister would slit her throat in front of me. I still have nightmares, Soomin, but I’m calling you for another reason, I have a little favor to ask you.”

“Sarang, you should feel like this; it’s okay. What happened to Mina traumatized you; damn it, it would have traumatized anyone if they were you. We agreed to give you time to get over it at your own pace, but when you didn’t answer our messages and calls, we started to worry. Eun Jung even offered to come to you several times; you know how she is.” She was anxious, and I understood why. “I’ll help with everything I need; just tell me how I can do it.”

“You agree too quickly, Soo.”

“Sarang, please stop. The only thing I can offer you now is my help. I can’t imagine how you’re handling all this, and if you need my help, I’ll be there for you. So stop denying me and tell me what you wanted to ask.”

“Do you remember Mina’s lawyer who approached me at the funeral? I think it’s time I met him. It’s all about inheritance and property, but there’s something else.” I started off insecure. “I want to find out who sent her those stupid roses.”

“Why?” in her voice sounded like sincere surprise. “If you were me, would you want to know how it all started?”

“Probably, but aren't you afraid? Judging by how it turned out for Mina,” she stammered for a second. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“No, you’re right. Absolutely. I’m scared, and if things weren’t so messed up, maybe I would have done something different, but listen, Soomin, I have a strong feeling that I’m always missing something, and it’s bothering me.” “People don't change so dramatically, and certainly not because of the roses. You've been friends with her for so long, so you know her as well as I do, and we both understand that it's crazy to give up everything in your life for roses like that. Especially for Mina.” When I spoke my thoughts out loud, I was even more convinced that I needed answers. It really was crazy. “ She left so many secrets that I want to find a clue. I haven't told anyone, but the roses are still being sent. I received a call from the cemetery administration saying that her grave was littered with flowers, and they needed to figure out what to do with them. Not only that, but I also received several bouquets.” There was no point in hiding it anymore. If I want Soomin to help me, she needs to know about those roses that were sent to me.

“My God, Sarang, you should have told me right away. Did you talk to JiHo? This is an abnormal situation. What if you’re being chased, Sarang? I don’t know, it’s all so scary.”

“You have no idea, but I don’t think we should talk about stalking.”

“Why? Maybe it’s a stalker or serial killer; you should be careful. Please tell me JiHo is living with you now.” “First, I don’t think anyone in their right mind is going to come after me, and second, JiHo and I took a pause.”

“Did you break up?” she asked with an incredulous echo.

“I'm not sure if you can call it a breakup.”

“God, the bastard left you. I always told you he was a rare asshole and would run away at the first opportunity.”

“Soomin, let’s not talk about it, but if you want to hear it, yeah, you were right about him.” The memories of our conversation with my ex were still fresh and festering in my mind like a ball of worms.

It’s very convenient to hide behind phrases like “let’s take a break,” “you need time to figure things out,” “emotional vacation,” etcetera. No one wants to be a part of your grief. At this party, the cake belongs entirely to you.

“Okay, let’s close the JiHo thing. Tell me, do you know anything about who sent the roses? Any ideas?”

“Absolutely nothing; I’m stuck. There’s nothing that can help. No address, no sender’s name, Maybe we can find something in her files or stuff; I don’t know.”

“Yes, it’s possible. When do you want to go to a lawyer?”

“This Friday, if you’re free?”

“Give me a minute,” the papers rustled on the other side, Soomin clearly trying to find the day she needed in her diary. Knowing the nature of Soo, it was difficult to make out anything there; her records were always chaotic, and careful planning was not her forte. In this, too, she was similar to Mina.

“I’m totally free. How about going to brunch first and then to the lawyer?

You could use some fun, and I’ve always wanted to go to this new trending place. I hear they serve incredible fondant au chocolate, and the owner looks like God cut him out. How does that sound? “First, tell me, are we going there for the fondant or the owner?”

“You can’t judge me; everyone’s talking about how attractive this man is; I just want to see.” Soo softly dissipated.

“Have you betrayed your love of chocolate for a man? Kim Soomin is something new. Anyway, everything sounds great. Let’s go and see if those rumors are true, but if I were going there solely for the chocolate,” I smiled at that thought. I’ve really been lacking in communication lately. We should start coming back to the real world. “Do you know the address?” “Sure, I’ll pick you up at 11:00. Please wear something prettier than a black dress.” “It’s a classic, and thank you again, Soo.”

“You have nothing to thank me for, Sarang. Finally, I can call you like that, you know, Rosa, it doesn’t suit you. I’ll see you Friday, baby.”

“I think so, too. Until Friday.” I put the phone aside, taking a deep breath. The long stems of white roses had folded in half in the cramped bin. A luxurious wrapping in a rare shade of Solferino and embroidered topaz ribbons lay next to the bulky pile, and a small note was shrunk into a perfect ball that was also lying in the trash.

Whoever sent those flowers should have stopped doing that. I’m not Mina. I don’t like roses.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

How quickly does the waiting time pass? We count the days, the hours, and the minutes until the exciting event we’re expecting, circled by a thick red line in the calendar, but is it really worth our time, which life has measured for us?

It's so strange; the days are like bottles of sand thrown by a restless ocean onto a flickering glass bank. I remember this one, crystal blue—it smells like strawberry cheesecake and summer heat. And this one, made of gloss and pearls, is full to the brim with grave earth and chrysanthemum petals. I like the one that sparkles with diamonds from the royal frosted glass; it smells like a lover’s pillow, and there are memories of the first love. There is another, very ordinary, and therefore the most precious—empty and at the same time full. If you open it, you can hear the gentle wind whispering your name.

My life is all about memories now. I’m just trying to keep what’s left.

The rest of the week passed unnoticed by me. Time, like the rapid trains at the station, rushed by, and I kept waiting to see the stop I needed in this incessant turmoil.

Existing in space is very simple when it belongs only to you. I did actions that were memorized to the finest detail, simple mechanisms that gradually brought me back to my normal state. Feed the neighbor’s cat. Do the cleaning. Go for a walk. Check the mail. Cook dinner. Ordinary things to take your mind off the colorful bottles on the shelves of consciousness and the endless cycle of nightmares.

And I also noticed that at night, time flows more slowly. Second by second, replace the glowing dial until dawn. And so on until the ruthless rays of the sun insidiously penetrate between the tightly woven threads of heavy boudoir curtains, and the golden shadow spills over the pampered skin like boiling water.

I think I'm allergic to the sun and, therefore, to the stars.

Maybe the whole world.

Today I woke up earlier than usual. Somewhere below the horizon, the sun splashed in the golden ichor of the predawn twilight. Yoru stretched out at the foot of the bed, warmed by tiny drops of warm light that seeped into the room through the window. Last night, she refused to leave, stubbornly ignoring my presence and my tender pleas to return home to her mistress.

Yoru was my neighbor’s cat, perfectly embodying all its best features: a slightly aggressive, capricious, and having a little bit of arrogance. Despite this, she had a strange affection for me and often stayed at my house if she was in the mood.

Other tenants avoided Yoru, considering her a bad omen, and it was not only the polished glossiness of her black fur; she always appeared where death later came. I didn't care; I've always loved cats, and having one of them in my house was a bit of comfort. I wasn't alone.

Sensing my awakening, her almond-shaped eyes flashed with the sharp color of precious stones in the slits of the eyelids—a thick amber glow, not yet warmed by curiosity or playfulness. Yoru tossed and turned, clearly unhappy that someone had disturbed her sleep, arched her back and closed her eyes again.

We could lie like this all day long, in silence and some strange harmonization. I’m sure she’ll get close to me a little bit later, calculating her every move, until he presses on his heart with a peaceful, relaxed purr. Unfortunately, today was not the day I could afford it. Soomin will soon be here, and I need to get a little tidy.

Shower. Food. Simple things. Jars of creams and neatly arranged lipsticks Are there certain rules of appearance when you go to a lawyer? What dress should I wear—a deep neckline or open legs? How decent?

Should I still look mournful? Should I wear a veil? Two months have passed; are other colors acceptable? What will he think of me?

So many questions were spinning in my head while I was going, and it seems to me that whatever I choose, it will still be inappropriate. The story of Mina was not a passing affair; probably everyone in the city had fleetingly heard about her death. One of my friends told me she was called “Queen of Roses” because of the flowers in her hair, and I saw the headlines of the “exquisite death” articles.

The black color dripped venomously to the floor with the long hems of the dresses in my wardrobe; the gray, like a mist, settled in the loops of cardigans and oversized sweaters; and the ghostly white terrified me with thin transparent lace and ruffles, just like on Mina's dress. The choice was not too large.

A jacket dress on a naked body made of thick matte silk, a little pearl, and a high choker collar with long falling threads, It was one of the old jewels I bought in a small antique shop. Vintage trinket in the style of Queen Marie-Antoinette. I had a whole collection of such chokers—some studded with precious stones made of expensive jewelry metals, others woven with the finest threads, like a skillfully woven web. Hard made of steel and leather, and soft, like angelic kisses, made of organza and velour. JiHo once said I had a choke kink if I liked things like that; maybe I did, but my ex was too “vanilla” to close his hands around my neck.

After getting dressed and styling my hair, I sat down on the couch and waited for Soomin to arrive. What should I do now? I was lost. Turn on the TV or read a book? Look at the news feed on Instagram; be sure to look at JiHo's profile to see his new photo. Does he miss me or not? Is someone else warming up his bed now that I'm not around? Is JiHo still wearing the same perfume as before, or has he found something different?

Anyway, I never liked his perfume; it was salty like tears and distant ocean breezes and rancid like decaying wood in the dense Amazon. He called them gourmet; I could only agree if they were worn by someone else, say someone more dominant and powerful. Maybe I would even find this strange, gloomy mixture of aromas attractive, inhaling it from someone else's hot skin and feeling with the touch of my lips a steadily beating pulse in the swollen veins on a strong neck.

How long does love last? Three years or more? For me, it's a moment; for others, it's an eternity. I loved him. It's true. Very strong and very long ago. My love did not resemble the indomitable elements or the explosions of colored fireworks; rather, it was the fragrant bloom of wildflowers and the scattering of stars in the sky. She was comforting, not passionate, and I wanted to see someone like me, someone who could comfort my heart and give me tenderness.

Tenderness and comfort alone were enough for me, but deep inside, I wanted something dangerous, something forbidden. I was devout, one of those people who are called “good girls,” but was it really me or the role that Mina gave me?

Maybe in the far corners of my mind, my thoughts weren’t as good and right as they should be. I didn’t even want to admit it to myself, but sometimes when I woke up from another nightmare, I was glad she was dead. Dark, reckless emotions made their way through my cracks; they were moments of despair as my anger lifted its ugly head and oozed poison and blood. My cruelty and hatred had the color of roses and smelled like chocolate. She had fox eyes and a seductive smile; desire flowed in her veins, and strangled thirst was heard in her voice.

In my nightmares, I saw not only Mina and bloody roses; sometimes there was a young man in long silk robes and a veil hiding his face. He's just a ghost; I met mine years ago, but somehow he seems more real to me night by night when he comes into my dreams without permission. He crept into them like a serpent-tempter into the Garden of Eden, slipping away at dawn like the shadow of two moons, hiding behind a door I could never open.

Unreal in my reality.

I felt the arrival of Soomin even before her long nails methodically began to knock on my door. It was as if the spell had been removed and all the sounds of the world had rained down on me in an instant. Yoru shook off her sleep and whirled around at the front door, waiting for an unknown guest. The clatter of high heels echoed in my apartment, slipping through the cracks of the door locks, and the thick smell of ambergris and blooming jasmine at night walked ahead of her, warning every one of her approaches. If I didn’t know better, I could easily have mistaken her for Mina. That was my sister once.

The whole world was just a part of her life; she was not part of the world. To be ordinary—what a bad form!

“Sarang! Sarang, open up. I’m here.” and in fact, her long nails caught on the dark wood of my front door, causing Yoru to bristle and hiss.

I was absolutely sure they wouldn’t get along.

“Are you awfully loud? Someone told you this, Soo?” I opened the front door wide, smiling softly. “I missed you, Soomin.”

“Don’t tell me about it; I missed that pretty face.” She hugged me, which made Yoru hiss again, attracting Soo’s attention. “When did you get a cat?”

“That’s not my, Yoru cat, my neighbor from apartment 1366, that door.” I waved my hand to the far end of the corridor, where Mrs. Lee’s apartment was located. “I like her; I don’t mind having the baby stay with me sometimes.”

“I see.” There was an awkward pause between us until Soo broke it. “You want to talk about… you know what.” She was worried about this topic; I could see it from the way she shifted from foot to foot, or was it from high heels? In the light of the electric lamps, the steel studs glittered like sharpened spindles from the tale of The Sleeping Beauty.

“Not now. Better tell me about this restaurant we’re going to.” Soomin was easily distracted if you changed the topic of conversation in the direction of a subject of interest to her.

I walked out of the house, taking one last look at Yoru. The cat didn't even think about leaving my space; he was already ensconced in a pile of pillows on the sofa in the living room. If she wasn't going to leave, I wouldn't force her.

“Don’t you need to return the cat to the mistress? She looks expensive.” asked Soo

“She’s a purebred Persian cat, and no, Mrs. Lee won’t worry about it; Yoru can stay with me for weeks before she comes home. This has happened before.”

“All right, if you say so.”

I shut the front door and turned the key, permanently cutting off my escape routes. Today. I have to do this today or my resolve will wear thin, and I will once again voluntarily isolate myself in the comfort of blankets and tightly closed curtains.

"And so, the restaurant..." This was the beginning of a long story that interested no more than random passersby in a faceless crowd.

“You’re going to love this place, I promise. Everything I’ve seen on their Instagram profile is so fascinating, but you know what makes this place really attractive? It’s the owner. Eun Jung was there last week, and she couldn’t shut up about…”

For the next 30 minutes, I heard about this trending establishment. “ Angels' Share” is the most requested boutique café in the last 3 months on all search engines. A luxurious café with exquisite dishes and a magnificent concept.

But most importantly, it is, of course, divine, and Soomin, the owner, was absolutely sure of this. Hundreds of girls lined up in endless lines from dawn to dusk, hoping to see him, at least for a moment.

On your first visit, the owner of “Angels' Share” personally serves you throughout your interruption there. Your name is inscribed in the book of exclusive customers in gold ink. Their main specialty is gourmet desserts, and if you are not seduced by the angelic face of the magnificent man who runs this place, then the sweets melting on your lips will do it instantly.

Full berries of scarlet strawberries in white Belgian chocolate. Mille-feuille with fresh wild berries. The devil's food is the most chocolate of all chocolate cakes, and, of course, the angel cake has the most delicate silk cream of exotic fruits.

As Soomin told me about it, she was clearly having an emotional orgasm. Her arousal was obvious, but I could not understand what she craved more: exquisite desserts or the sweet kiss of the owner.

“I think he's a real angel,” Soo finished her rant after giving a fiery speech about the unique beauty of a man she had never met in her life.

“I'm not sure if it's all true, Soomin, but you'll be able to see for yourself when we get there. You should not trust everything they say. You're too impressionable and trusting.”

We spent the rest of the journey in peaceful silence. This is the type of silence when there are a lot of questions in the air, but each side is not sure when to start asking them. I know she wanted to ask me a lot of things, and in response, I wanted to finally share my experiences and feelings that I had been desperately hiding for the past two months. Nevertheless, each of us remained silent, as if afraid to destroy fragile comfort with uncomfortable words.

When the car stopped, Soomin smiled approvingly at me, as if to say, “Go ahead, my girl!” She was good at it because she was also a cheerleader like Mina.

“Angels' Share” was impressive at first sight, and not only because of the long line of girls lined up in a perfect line and dressed in intricate clothes like collectible dolls on the shelf.

A myriad of flowers, lace, and feathers, pastel shades, and delicate ruffles—all of them looked like animated sugar fantasies. Their cheeks were dusted with pink blush, and their inflated lips were accentuated by a thick layer of transparent sticky gloss with a fine sprinkle of glitter.

Perfectly well-groomed hair is arranged in children’s cute curls or intricate hairstyles with hundreds of sparkling hairpins and velvet bows. The variety of their images was amazing, as was the height of their heels. This place was definitely something special if the girls were willing to sacrifice their comfort for a couple of desserts.

Or it wasn’t about desserts.

At such moments, I especially understood how much we needed someone else's approval. The list of items seems endless: he likes cute girls, girls with an athletic figure, pale skin, and big eyes; she should not be boring; my friends like her; she has long legs and a thin waist; and she is a certain height. I wonder if he'll use a ruler to measure me. Big boobs or a nice ass—which turns him on more? What will our first date be like? That's right; should I call him Oppa or not? Tell me what you want, and I will fulfill whatever you want. I will fulfill every one of your fantasies. Tell me about your desires.

Seduce me. Surprise me. Love me!

I don’t want to live like this. I want to be who I really am, with all my flaws and imperfections. I want to be sharp and rude; I want to be cruel and honest; I want to look as I want, without colorful tinsel and layers of makeup, with cellulite, stretch marks, and a little overweight. That may be so, but it will be me. Just me. 

The voice of Soomin ripped me out of my mind.

“I told you so,” said Soo smugly, purposefully heading for the entrance, circumventing a string of discharged girls. She was a lioness on a hunt, while they were stranded in colorful piles like scared rabbits.

If you do not pay attention to the girls, the exterior is fascinating. Gold, flowers, and crystal resembled the frame of a precious box. “Angels' Share” was positioned in such a way that the sun flooded it from all sides, creating around it a mysterious golden haze of sunlight and a dazzling iridescent play of crystals.

Everything was so beautiful, I won't deny it, but didn't the gingerbread house beckon the children deep into the dark forest where the wicked witch lived? Everything beautiful always has a downside, and someone knows how to mask it better than others.

While I was looking at the details, Soomin dragged me inside and was already talking to the host girl, who was checking the records for a long list of names. She also, like the girls on the street, looked like a doll. Her hair was long and shiny, tucked away from her face with an embroidered rim with Swarovski crystals, and her eyelashes were so lush that they touched her cheeks when she blinked. I would call her beautiful; she licked to perfection, which made it almost unnatural. She had a sweet, high-pitched voice and an overly friendly smile. Annoyingly friendly. 

“Please follow me; I'll show you your table. Since you have visited us for the first time, Mr. Yoon will personally take care of you today. Please enjoy your stay at “Angels' Share.”

YooA—that was the name of this girl—led us up the spiral staircase to the second floor. It seemed that everything around was carved from pale golden marble, with the addition of luxurious interior items and thousands of flowers—or, to be more precise, thousands of roses. Snow-white, cream, pastel pink, and soft peach—the whole space breathed rose buds that stood in tall transparent vases.

The sight took my breath away, and I was inwardly tense. It's okay; it's just a café, not Mina's apartment. You need to relax and not start panicking; it will not benefit anyone.

As if sensing my growing panic, Soomin squeezed my palm.

“Are you all right? You look pale.”

“Yes, it’s all right; there are too many roses for my taste; you know, it brings back memories.” I smiled tortuously in response to her words. I didn’t want to ruin her day; she was so excited and happy when we came here.

“We can leave if you are not comfortable, Sarang.” Soo still held my hand, gently walking her thumb over my palm in a comforting circular motion. “If you want to go somewhere else, this is fine. I can always come back here later.”

“No!” came out too loud. “No, I’m fine. I can’t wait to try their chocolate fondant. You know I’m here only for chocolate.” She said the last part with me in one voice.

YooA showed us our table, although it was more like a small loggia separated by airy chiffon tulle and pearl threads from the common room. I could easily fall in love with this place if not for the languid, enveloping smell of roses and the beauty of their lush, perfect buds.

“Do you think the rumors are true, and we'll see an angel appearance today?” Soomin leaned across the table to talk about the owner, not so obviously?

“I think you'll find out about it now, anyway.” I couldn't finish my thoughts, interrupted by Soo's enthusiastic sigh. It was a sound of undisguised admiration that she couldn't hold back, even if she tried.

The reason for her excitement was right behind me, and I had to look back a little to see what it could have been.

Of course, all the sounds of delight belonged to none other than Mr. Yoon. In part, I could understand why he was called angel-like. His beauty was painfully perfect, to the point where it became almost terrible. His face was beautiful—almost obsessively beautiful, like the face of a stone goddess on a grave. Surreal. The skin seemed to glow from the inside, like molten silver flowing through the veins. He had long hair—ashes, platinum, mother-of-pearl—everything mixed on a diamond cloth. One silvery strand fell delicately over his face.

Are the melodies of an angelic choir in the air, or does it just seem that way to me?

The more I looked at him, the more his appearance disgusted me.

I felt flawed and unsuitable, like a puzzle that did not fit the picture; my heart did not beat faster with excitement or sweet agony; I did not burn and did not desire it as it should. Between us, it was possible to draw thousands of parallels in a myriad of universes, and none of them ever intersected. Beauty is deceptive, like a serpent promising forgiveness. It’s the pain of a bittersweet injection entering our nervous tissue.

What do we know about them—angels? White-winged light bearers, without flaws and ignorant of evil and vicious desires, are submissive and faithful to their ideals and purposes. Silent watchers who look after our virtue. But there are those who are chained and silken, whose wings are torn out with bloody flesh, for they are sinners.

Their name is the fallen. Unforgiven. 

He was not an angel. He was one of them who traded the vaults of heaven for the flames and steel of the nine circles.

His presence was heavy, stifling, and sharp. Goosebumps ran through my skin as an omen of the imminent end.

I could have sworn that the second our eyes met in his eyes, the color of dark bitter chocolate, anger, and disgust thickened. So everything that is perfect collapses, falls, beats, and crumbles like the great walls of Babylon, kissing the transcendental peak of heaven. Like a Venus flytrap, his appearance was a clever disguise of vice and rot in a velvet cage of flesh, and this place is the very gingerbread house that beckons to certain death.

 “Welcome to “Angels' Share”. My name is Yoon Sung Hoon; I own this place, and today I will make sure your stay here is unforgettable.” The voice flowed like honey smoothly and gently, I could melt at this tone.

“I am Soomin, and this is Sarang; we have heard a lot about this place.” Soo’s cheeks were pink from a shy blush, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say she was embarrassed. This man was clearly something special, if he could make Soomin behave like a schoolgirl in love with just his presence.

His eyes rested on my figure for a second, and I wanted to shrink into a ball under this appraising gaze, as if he was trying to probe me and understand how dangerous I could be. It was only a moment, and then a smile shone again on his angelic face.

“I hope you’ve only heard nice things about us. What do you want today?” I wonder what he is used to hearing in response. I want you and your love, and I will accept everything you would not give me. Will you be my boyfriend? My husband? Will you give me eternal love? Judging by the expression on Soomin's face, this is exactly what she wanted to ask him, but she pulled herself up in time.

“I want to taste your best dessert.” As they say, kill them with your sweetness. Where has my self-sufficiency and t.” As they say, “kill them with your sweetness.” Where has my self-sufficient and confident self gone? Soo, this blushing mess was nothing like hers.

“Of course, only the best is for you. And what do you want?” All his attention was now drawn to me, and I had no pleasure. Yoon Sung Hoon is clearly not used to girls not falling at his feet like moths hitting the glass. Our dislike was mutual. Our dislike was mutual. “What do you want, Sarang? I would recommend one of our most special desserts: a white chocolate soufflé with candied scarlet roses.” Sung Hoon was smiling, but not at all benevolent; there was something mocking in the exquisite curve of his lips, as if he were challenging me: “Come on, try me.”

Roses. Those damn roses again. It always came down to these flowers. Were they my path leading away from the dark forest, or would they lead me straight to the crystal coffin in the tallest tower of the castle?

Instead of politely refusing, as a true lady should, I have given a crude, hoarse, and utterly evil speech:

“I hate roses.”

For me, flowers are as beautiful as the pain of a broken heart. You can call me a heartbreaker. What will your heart taste like? I'm so eager to try it. 

“My apologies.” Sung Hoon bowed his head, hiding his gaze in the lace of fluttering eyelashes and platinum bangs. With this simple action, Soomin once again made a barely audible, enthusiastic sound. “In this case, I offer you our signature chocolate fondant with raspberry jam and glass caramel glaze. Our clients say that he has a heavenly taste, so celestial that he can be sinful.”

Sung Hoon—there was something about him that disgusted me. His way of speaking, his appearance, his behavior—in general, every detail of it The most beautiful apple on the branch will always be wormy. I couldn't understand how he could charm girls in a split second, without any effort, as if it were in his blood—to cause desire and awe.

During our short conversation, Soo did not look at me once, inseparably studying every detail of the angelic man. If I make an incision in his skin, will the gold pour as befits angels, or will it be the viscous and black acid that Pandora once shed from her eyes?

I didn’t like it here. I didn’t like Yoon Sung Hoon, and he probably didn’t like me. How was I in his eyes—insignificant, puny, ordinary? Our dislike was mutual but totally unfounded; I just knew I didn’t want to be in the same space with him. I can’t breathe.

Guests always leave after dessert. I didn't want to linger, so I agreed to fondant. “Okay, I'll take fondant and cappuccino.” I looked at Soomin again; her thoughts were clearly elsewhere, judging by the bitten lower lip and flushed cheeks. “And matcha latte, please.”

“Of course, ladies…” With this phrase, he finally left us, and I sighed deeply.

“I think I'm in love, Sarang.” Apparently, with his passing, Soo’s brain has resumed active activity. “He absolutely justifies all the rumors about him.”

“Yeah, I can agree with that; he’s definitely something very special.”

After Sung Hoon served desserts and another 10 minutes of heated discussion of his appearance, our conversation took its normal course. It’s like ping-pong; the rules are very simple: move from one question to another, follow the theme, and don’t miss your turn. “How's the work?” “Everything is fine.” “How’s your boyfriend?” “You remember I told you we broke up?” “What have you been doing lately?” “Too much to do; I can’t remember, but recently I came back from Japan”, “Did you like it there?” “Great seats and great cuisine.” “How do you feel, Sarang?” Say it again; I didn’t hear you.

“How do you feel, Sarang?” Once again, you speak unclearly.

“How do you feel, Sarang?” It's so loud here, I can't hear you.

“Sarang?!” Can I skip my turn? I’m tired of this game.

I took a deep, slow breath.

“What do you want me to say, Soo? Something that will calm you down or something that should comfort me? ”

“Truth, Sarang. I want to hear the truth from you.” Soomin looked at me so carefully that it seemed as though she was looking straight into my soul.

My mind moved from one thought to another, not knowing what it would focus on. Truth. What is it like, this truth? She is like a beautiful, spiritually disheveled monster with a lesbian couple of black widows in an aquarium; she exists in an endless eternity of joyful decadence and an ecstatic nightmare.

It’s no big deal to tell someone the truth, but are you ready to see your own reflection in someone else’s eyes? They say alcohol is a liquid truth, but I think it's nothing more than a road strewn with bread crumbs, straight into a dense, dark forest. The more you drink, the deeper you go. Sometimes, through the intricately woven stems of condemnation and bitterness, subtle rays of understanding break through, like the light shed by the dual face of the moon. But this happens so rarely that the eyes themselves become accustomed to the surrounding darkness.

I’m still afraid of the dark and, therefore, of the truth. Now I’m sure I’m allergic to the world.

When I looked at the café, I noticed that there were many more people. Bunny girls with colorful barrettes occupied small transparent tables filled with all sorts of desserts; others, similar to porcelain dolls, put their palms to their cheeks, flushed with embarrassment, and laughed loudly, sitting in the same loggias as ours. The sounds of clicks from selfies and aesthetic Instagram photos did not subside for a second, as did the high play of voices merging with soft background music.

This probably wasn’t the best place for such a serious conversation, but was it ever the perfect place to have a heart-to-heart?

“Honestly, I don't know. Really?” I began, stirring the thick, fragrant foam from the cappuccino. It tasted like a first kiss—a little bitter, a little sweet—something that I would like to repeat again and again. “Secrets, secrets, and more secrets—everywhere I look, no matter what I ask, they only get bigger. Everything is as usual: Mina died, and the world is still spinning around her. Remember, I told you that they still send roses? I can say that soon the cemetery will start selling bouquets because there is simply nowhere to put them. Every day there are fresh flowers on the grave.” Maybe I sounded a little petty and annoyed, but I didn't care. “I may not seem like the best person on this planet, but sometimes I feel absolutely happy that I finally managed to bury her in the ground.”  Yes, this is exactly the right moment; you are not mistaken. That was my truth, like salt and pepper, like ashes, like burned dreams.

Soomin shook her head negatively.

“You shouldn't talk about yourself like that, Sarang; you're not a bad person, and we both know it; everyone around you knows it; and even that bastard JiHo knows it. You have gone through a lot, and if I were you, I would have gone crazy long ago, but look at yourself: you are here with me, in the noise of the metropolis, and you have your whole life ahead of you.” She put her hand on top of mine, and the warmth of her body penetrated mine. “Mina was who she was, and neither you nor me nor anyone else could change her. So don't let her ghost poison your life. I'm not a fan of this entire Nancy Drew thing, but I won't dissuade you. If you want my help, I'm on board.”

I laughed bitterly, taking a sip of the coffee that had already cooled. There was something special about it—sweet, ice-cold coffee, like long-cooled love.

“Yeah, you’re right; she was who she was, but I guess we were wrong about that because those flowers broke her in half. In fact, that’s the whole point of the question: where did the roses come from? She was interested in nothing but flowers and some strange prayers. She frightened me. You know, at first it looked like another love of hers; everything was as usual—she talked incessantly about flowers and admired them, but the more roses they sent us, the less she was interested in the rest of the world. Mina withered and languished while the roses bloomed. I've never seen anyone come to our house or meet someone. Nothing, just roses—hundreds of roses. You just can't imagine how many there were.”

“You know, I don’t really want to imagine it. Okay, let’s say you find something in her files. What’s next? You really need this? Maybe we should just let go, you know, scatter the ashes to the wind.” Breaking off a slice of angel cake, Soo mooed in satisfaction as the dessert was in her mouth. “Mmm, I love sweets. Who handled her legal affairs? If this is one of the free lawyers, we should hurry; the queues in these cantors are worse than here.”

“No, no, we're not going to a free advocacy team. Wait a minute.” I pulled out of my purse a small card from a thick black cardboard and handed it to Soomin. Transparent gloss on a soft matt surface looked refined and very expensive, just like the business card itself. “Silver & Black LTD” was the name of the law firm that handled Mina’s affairs.

“You’re kidding me!” She exclaimed, almost burying her face in her business card. “That’s “Silver and Black.” How did she manage to work with them? They’re one of the most elite law practitioners in all of Seoul, and I’d say across Asia. Their lawyers are real sharks in their cases; for the existence of their practice, they have not lost a single case, and the bills for their services are simply cosmic. How does she have so much money? Sarang, did you inherit her sugar daddy too? If that's the case, ask for more; you're much more expensive than a cheerleader, and nerds are always sexier and more desirable.”

“Stop saying that like I’m a whore. I don’t know where she got the money, but are their services so expensive?” My surprise was obvious. Our family was not poor, but we were not rich; we occupied that golden layer in the class hierarchy where we could just live without any worries about tomorrow. Mina and I were well provided for, but judging by Soomin’s reaction, “Silver and Black” could afford only filthy rich and influential people.

“If I were to be offered the opportunity to trade my virginity for cooperation with them, I would have done it without hesitation. Are you sure we have an appointment with them?”

“Soomin!” Frankness was always such a simple thing for her that I felt awkward at such moments. “Of course, I called them yesterday to confirm the details.”

“What? The cult of virginity is overrated anyway, but now I'm much more interested in it.”

“Let me think, more amazing men?” “How did you guess?” Soo smiled sweetly, shoving another piece of dessert into her mouth. I snorted; I couldn’t help it. "Hey, don’t laugh! You should also consider new options, since you and JiHo have broken up. Listen to me, little Sarang, nothing will warm your bed better than a hot big boy."

"Ew, Soomin." She just laughed back.

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter eight: where did i go wrong? | read chapter seven

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 3.7k

━ warnings: canon typical violence, blood, etc

━ masterlist

━ a/n: sorry for disappearing! essentially, i started grad school and it is So Much Work. but if you'd like some unnecessary rambles on tim and wally's relationship here and in light of their og meeting in robin (1993), you can also find my thoughts on that here <3

 The next day, you don’t hear much from Steph. 

She does text you a few times, mostly reassurances and that she’s working to pull something together. You don’t quite understand but she was so convincing the day before, you let it go. 

You mostly spend the day—after sleeping in—learning your new phone, excited at having something new and so high-tech to play with. Flash texts you several times during the day. Blurry selfies and equally blurry pictures of Keystone and Central. Even a couple of the New York skyline, as he informs you he decided to drop in and visit a few friends. 

You can’t send him much. The clouds that hang in the sky, waiting to pour down on unsuspecting Gothamites at a moment’s notice. The feral cat that hangs out in the alley by your apartments, who you get close enough to to catch mid-hiss. The person on the subway carrying what you suspect to be a possum in their bag but Flash insists is actually an opossum. Whatever the difference is. 

There is a difference!

idk sounds made up

You’re from the city. Of course you think that.

ok WOW

you’re blaming my dead parents for where they settled????

Yes.

wow

You go into work in relatively high spirits, considering everything. 

Black Bat stops by for some gummy worms and a can of Red Bull and you tease her a bit for it.

“Signal’s influence?”

“Better than coffee.”

“Fair enough.”

Red hasn’t been by, you think, watching her go. Not yesterday and not today, though it’s early. He usually stops by nearly every night, if not for a couple minutes. But nothing specifically decrees that he comes by… You’re just used to it, you suppose, and last night’s absence was noticeable.

There’s still time, though. Maybe you’ll see him later tonight. 

Overhead, the AC turns on. They fixed it, along with that electrical issue Red Robin caused last week. It works a little too well, though. These last few days have had you uncomfortably cold, so today, you come armed with a hoodie—Tim’s hoodie, the only piece of clothing you’ve ever managed to steal from him. A bit baggy on him and even more so on you, it’s a pleasant shade of azure blue. One of your more precious possessions since it’s, like you said, the only thing you really have from him. Also a bit of an indulgence right now but… you’re past the point of caring. 

Maritza pops by a little while later, waving at you. 

“Hey, Mari. Here for a Slurpee?”

“That, and I was wondering if you guys have any pain cream… Abuela’s back is hurting her and we ran out yesterday,” she says, lips pursed, glancing at the aisles. 

“Pain cream,” you repeat thoughtfully, stepping around the counter. “We should. Let’s see.”

She follows you to one of the center aisles.

“How’s summer break been so far?” you ask, running your eyes over displays of toothpaste, disposable toothbrushes, and other basic items. 

“Boring,” she sighs. “It’s too hot to do anything.”

You chuckle, tucking your hands in the pocket of Tim’s hoodie; your fingers are cold. They always seem to be. “Books are excellent ways to preoccupy the time.”

“Think I’ve read every book at the library,” she grumbles, which probably isn’t that much of an exaggeration. Gotham’s public library system is drastically lacking; it was only in May did Wayne Enterprises announce that they were investing more money into it. By now, they probably haven’t reached the library here in the Upper West Side. 

“You should check out GU’s then. Kids get free library cards and our selection is fairly expansive. I’m sure you could get away with checking out some things for your abuela, too. At least until they fix everything in the one here.”

“Huh. Maybe.” She moves ahead of you, scanning the rest of the aisle. “Oh, hey, you guys do have some.”

She reaches for a box. 

The door opens. You turn. 

The wink of the kitchen knife is the first thing you see, then the trembling hand, and then the owner to whom it belongs, too. A scrawny man wearing a grey hoodie, the same hood pulled over his head. 

It’s not great at hiding his face, you think dimly, every muscle inside you locking into place. Mari freezes behind you, breath audibly catching in a gasp as he turns the knife sharply on you.

For a second, the three of you just look at each other. 

You break the silence first. 

“All the money is in the register. Take it.”

A lengthy pause, one that amplifies the dread petrifying your insides. Your new phone, with Flash’s contact info, sits in the pocket of your hoodie, weighing it down; your fingers are laced together, cold, hovering right above it and you recall the rundown you’d been given by Flash last night, the… other not-quite-normal aspects of your new phone. 

“Okay, so, on top of the League encryption stuff, there is something else.”

“Are you tracking me?”

“Not… exactly.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Your location is logged with the League,” he admits. “But it’s secure. You’re registered with me, so only I can look at it. My wife’s phone is like yours. Her information is there, too. A lot of us do it with our families. Not just to keep sensitive information secure, but there’s… a risk that comes with being with us.”

You frown at him. “Does she know?”

He looks horrified. “Of course she does. I don’t go around just tracking her without her knowledge. That’s weird. And messed up. I don’t even actively do it. Not unless she’s been kidnapped or she wants me to. That’s what I’m trying to say. Your location is being tracked but I’m not peeking in on it. No one is, unless a need comes up. An emergency kind of need. And that brings me to my next thing.”

He pauses, looking at you, calculating, but you just nod for him to continue. 

“You have my number,” he says. “So, you can call me. For emergencies or if you just want to talk about your day. But in the case that you can’t call me, if you’re in some kind of danger…” He plucks the phone out of your grasp, turning it over in his hands, pointing to the power button on the side. “Press this three times and it’ll send an SOS signal to me, along with your location. I’ll come. Okay?”

“Are you… sure?”

He seems affronted. “I don’t just do this for anyone. I thought you’d have seen that by now. You’re…” he stops, frowning deeply. “You mean a lot to me, kid. If I can save you, if I have the opportunity to keep you safe, I’ll take it. I wouldn’t ever ask you to leave Gotham because it’s your home and I know the Bats hang around but… this just makes me feel better. You have a direct line to me. Use it.”

“Batman probably won’t like that.”

“Batman can suck it,” he says petulantly. “Especially after what he did to you last week. I take care of my own. No matter where they are. Got it?”

You got it. 

The thought still astounds you even now, that Flash cares that much about you and how ironic it is that you don’t even know who he is under the cowl but maybe you don’t need to. This is still him, isn’t it?

And you would heed his words. Of course you would. You have no interest in dying. You have no hangups about being saved. Flash didn’t think you incompetent, it was just a precaution, a necessity for living in the world you do.

That is true now more than ever.

Especially with how aware you are of Mari behind you, too. 

“Take your hands outta your pockets,” he says.

Your pulse pounds in your ears.

“Just take the money, man.”

You have to be careful but quick. If you could just unlace your fingers and reach for your phone…

Of course, you have no idea how quickly the signal will reach Flash or how fast he’ll even be able to get here…

You guess you’ll just have to trust him. Trust him and his capabilities.

A step forward. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You can hear Mari behind you, her breath quick and uneven. You’re most worried about her, to be honest. If you go down, what’s going to happen to her? You dread to think about it.

“Take your hands out of your fuckin’ pocket,” he hisses; despite the severity of his voice, his hand is trembling. You don’t get why he won’t just grab the money and go. 

He must think you can call the police or something but even then, it’s not as if the GCPD are reliable. As if they can do anything. 

As for you, there is nothing else you can do. You need to call him. 

“Mari, run!” 

Your hand grapples for your phone at the same time. 

You hear the snick of sneakers on the tiled floors, your fingers slip over the sides of the new case currently hugging your phone, and he surges forward and then—

Just a mere spark, one that jolts you as you realize what happened. It’s small at first, then bigger, then massive, a forest fire eating you alive from the inside out, burning white-hot. 

You can’t do anything. 

You stare at the man in front of you, closer now, close enough to dig his knife right into the soft flesh of your belly. His eyes are wide, too. Like he can’t believe he just did that. Neither can you.

But the worst of it comes when he pulls the knife out. 

The sound that escapes you is foreign to your ears. Your knees give out. One hand presses to the source of your pain, the other lands hard on the tiled floor; your wrist smarts, your arm trembling as you hold yourself up. 

You’re barely aware of anything other than the pain. Throbbing heat, warmth rapidly spreading through the front of your shirt and hoodie. Your vision blurs, from tears and from the pain, your heart pounds so hard, you feel it in your teeth, hear it in your ears above the rush of your blood. 

You manage a glance behind you, relieved to see Mari is gone and hopefully back in the safety of the apartment building next door. Ahead of you, the man is scrambling to get the cash register open, cursing like a sailor and eventually yanking it off the counter and smashing it on the ground, ducking out of your view.

God, you need to call Flash. Not 911, they won’t get here in time, no way, you need him. Before the man decides to cut his losses and kill you. You hope he’ll just take the money and run, but you’ve seen his face, surely he knows that puts him in that much more danger of being arrested—

The door opens. You hear your name from a familiar voice and then someone steps into view. 

Tim’s eyes are wide as he looks at you, horrified, but behind him, your attacker shoots up from the ground and you choke out a warning, an urging to run, to get out of here, you don’t know what you’d do if anything happened to him, no, no, you can’t lose him like that. 

He whips around just as the man swings himself over the counter, letting out something of a war cry, cash held in one hand and the knife in the other. It gleams red under the light. He lunges.

“Tim!”

But his fatal injury does not happen. Instead, you watch him duck out of the way, moving faster, more gracefully than you’ve ever seen, like he’s done this before and the man doesn’t expect it, stumbling with his own momentum. Not stopping, either, Tim grabs the man’s wrist, heaving him over his shoulder until he slams into the ground hard. It’s brutal. It’s violent. It’s nothing you’ve ever seen from Tim, your Tim who… who hates needles and always bemoans going to get the yearly flu shot with you and Steph, your Tim who can get impatient, snippy, but not violent. 

You don’t understand. With the haze of pain, that fact feels oddly upsetting. 

The door opens again. He whips around, geared up for another fight, but it’s just Spoiler, it’s—

Golden hair, familiar blue eyes. A face you know by heart. Even with the bottom of her face hidden. 

They’re both at your side in an instant. In good timing, too, because your arm gives out but before you can crash to the ground, Tim catches you, turning you over in his arms and gently laying you back onto the tile.

“You’re okay,” he says quickly, eyes scanning you frantically. “You’re okay.”

All the movement tugs at your belly, flames flaring for a brief moment, making you dizzy with pain, choking out your voice, leaving you to blink the tears out of your eyes and look up at your friends.

You don’t like the look on their faces. Horrified. Full of dread. It hurts you. 

“Fuck,” Stephanie Brown, also known as Spoiler, says, digging through pouches in her utility belt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Oracle, where is the nearest hospital?”

“I know where it is,” Tim says, snapping into action, his hands reaching for the hoodie. “Off Murphy Ave.”

Rrrrrrip.

He tears through the front part of your hoodie—his hoodie—like it’s nothing. Both their faces drop as they see your shirt underneath it but you’re more focused on the first part of what just happened. 

“Did you—have to tear it?” you whine. “This is the only hoodie I have from you…”

“You can have all of my hoodies,” he promises, reaching for the hem of your shirt. 

Another ripping sound. 

Steph reaches underneath you. “Didn’t go through.”

Tim nods. “The sooner we get her to the hospital, the better. I don’t like how much blood she’s losing.”

“I can hear you, you know,” you mutter, more petulant than you want but considering you are bleeding from a stab wound, you think you get to be. 

They both let out strained chuckles. Tim reaches for one of the pouches of Steph’s belt. You wonder how he knows which one to open. You wonder a lot of things. Where he learned to kick ass. Whether he has always known Steph is Spoiler. How he is so calm right now. It tickles at you, like you have all the pieces to the puzzle but the full picture still isn’t coming out. 

And oh, yeah, the burning throb of the stab wound is really sapping your concentration, too. Cold creeps in at the edges, your fingers feeling icy as you clench them. You shiver violently, though it hurts to move like that. 

“You’re gonna be fine,” Steph says soothingly, squeezing your hand. “We just really need to get you to a hospital to guarantee that.”

“You should—fuck!” The gauze Tim presses to the wound sends shockwaves of pain through you. Black spots appearing in your vision, breath squeezing in your throat.

He says your name loudly. “Breathe.”

“Fuck you,” you wheeze out, trying and failing to curl away from the pressure he is currently applying to your wound. “That—hurts—”

“I know,” he says, pained. “But I have to. We have to. I’m sorry.”

“He’s right,” Steph says, brushing some of your hair away from your face. “Come on, talk to me. Ignore what he’s doing. What were you going to say before?”

“My phone,” you mumble, shivering. “Flash gave it to me. S-Said if I press the power button three times, it sends a distress signal to him.”

“That’s kind of him,” Tim mutters, sounding, dare you say it, jealous, which, in your haze of pain, just pisses you off. 

“You absolute asshole, you don’t get to—”

“Stop it!” Steph snaps, lunging for your phone. “Tim, focus on saving her life and not on being an ass right now, okay? I’m calling him. We need that kind of speed. She’s losing too much blood and the hospital is too far.”

He sobers significantly. A bloodied hand reaches for yours. You’re only aware of it because you see it, the sight of his pale skin covered in your blood, his fingers wrapping around yours. He squeezes.

“Can you feel that?”

“K-Kind of.”

“Do it, Spoiler.”

“I’m doing it, Timothy.”

She is. She holds your phone in gloved hands, pressing the button three times, then scoots away from your head, lifting your feet over her lap. 

Tim continues his work, the pressure he continues to apply to the wound making your head spin. Exhaustion creeps in at the edges, making your eyelids drag with each blink. 

No, no, falling asleep is bad. You’ve seen enough movies and TV shows of injured characters to know that. You have to stay awake. 

Steph watches you, concerned. “How long—”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence as a sharp gust of wind hits all of you. It knocks things off the shelves and then, all of you are blinking up at the Flash, blue lightning fading away.

He breathes your name and in the next blink, he’s next to you, on his knees. 

“Hey, Flash,” you croak. 

“Hey, kiddo,” he says softly, a gloved hand resting tenderly on your forehead. He looks at Tim and Steph. “Hospital?”

“It’s—”

Tim cuts Steph off, staring hard at Flash. “She’ll most likely need a blood transfusion. Her blood type is AB positive—”

“And she’s allergic to penicillin,” Steph tacks on quickly. 

“Got it.” He sweeps you into his arms and you whimper at the movement. “And the hospital?”

“Intersection of Murphy Avenue and Elliot Circle,” Steph tells him.

“Be careful,” Tim stresses. 

Flash gives him a frosty look. “I got it. You’ve done enough.”

Stop fighting, you want to say, but Flash is delightfully warm and you’re so tired. If you rest your eyes for just a little bit, that’s fine, right? 

“Flash—!”

A sharp tug in your belly, gravity pulling on you, and darkness falls over you like a blanket. You surrender without fight.

Voices puncture the veil of darkness. Soft murmurs, soothing tones. 

“She’ll be okay, Red,” a woman murmurs. “You got her here on time.”

“I know, Lin,” someone else says and wait, you know that voice. It’s Flash. He sounds so… harrowed. “But I just… I don’t know.”

“You know what the doctors said. The danger is gone. And with you here… maybe…” she trails off, tone implying something you aren’t privy to.

A deep breath. “Do you think so? I could’ve, earlier, but I didn’t know if it would hurt her and I didn’t want to take the chance…”

“Well… I think you’re a big softy and she means a lot more to you than you ever realized. So… maybe.”

“Maybe,” he echoes back and you want to know, want to ask what exactly it is he and this mystery woman are talking about but you slip back under again.

The next time you resurface, it’s to cutting words and a tension so thick, you feel it, too, even with all your senses muddled, knee-deep in a haze.

“I don’t mind her,” Flash says coldly. “But you, too?”

“She’s my friend. I have a right to see her, too,” someone else says—Tim, you realize. It’s Tim, his tone cutting, temper on the rise. 

“The way you’ve treated her these past two months doesn’t say much about friendship to me.”

“I was going to tell her—”

“Oh, you were going to tell her? Only after you finally fucked it all up being caught hanging out with your friends when you explicitly said you were too busy to hang out with her? Yeah, that’s real great.”

“You haven’t told her,” Tim points out petulantly. 

“Really mature,” Flash scoffs. “I have a good reason to keep it from her. What’s yours? It’s not like you were deprived of her attention. You’re friends. Why the hell would you favor Red Robin over Tim Drake?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand—”

“No, I bet you don’t, because it’s easier to excuse yourself that way, isn’t it?” he seethes. “You’re just like him, you know. Just like him.”

You don’t know who they’re talking about. Or maybe you do and it’s just not coming to you. But the comparison isn’t a kind one. The way Tim snaps back in the next second affirms that. 

“She wasn’t talking to me! I was—worried!”

“So, you should’ve talked to her! Instead of going behind her back and befriending her as Red Robin! What the hell did you achieve by doing that?”

“We were going to tell her, too, you know,” the woman from before says, her tone disapproving. “Very soon, in fact. But his situation is different from yours and you know that.”

Silence stretches on.

“Well, I still want to see her,” Tim says quietly, the fight leaving his voice.

“How—” Steph. Her voice cuts out, thick in a way that is unfamiliar to you. She clears her throat. “How is she?”

“Stable,” the mystery woman informs her. 

“Why hasn’t she woken up?” Tim asks. You can just hear the frown in his voice and the vision of him forms easily in your mind, that familiar wrinkle between his brows, pretty pink lips pursed. 

“Anesthesia still needs to wear off,” the woman says. “She’ll wake up soon.”

“But until then,” Flash cuts in, tone still severe. “Feel free to make yourself scarce. Stephanie can hang around. But you? No way in hell.”

“You think she wants that?” Tim shoots back, anger returning. “You don’t know anything. You have no idea. You’re assuming—”

“Yeah, I am. She’s not awake. She can’t tell us. Until then, I—we—can make those decisions.”

“Oh, that’s great. I’m sure she’ll love that—”

“I know what you’re thinking and we’re doing this with good intentions. You can’t say the same, can you?”

That doesn’t help. Fans the flames, if anything, as they keep arguing. 

Ugh. You don’t want to hear this. 

Like mercy, you slip under again. 

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[bluepeachstudios]

Oh my gosh... if Ghost was THAT interdependent with his brothers, it must have HURT when he got ripped away. His emotions must have been a MESS; he's used to a four person emotional system and now it's just him alone? No wonder he isolated himself for so long. And no wonder the SAINW boys fell apart!! There's an essential piece missing, the system is broken. Did they feel it when he disappeared? Did they know he was gone? Did they know they were broken?

Leonardo woke in the middle of the day. He was a light sleeper, it wasn’t unheard of, but instead of the usual rustling of Mikey out for a midday snack or the sound of Donny still working on a project, it was eerily quiet. There was the regular creak of pipes, the distant rumble of the city far above their heads, but nothing unusual.

He got out of bed anyway to check on his brothers.

It had been a rough few months. Travelling all the way to the floating city of Beijing to set it back down safely into place (the wrong way around), the return of the Y’Lyntian people in the underground city, stopping a nuclear bombing by H.A.T.E., the… thing beneath Wall Street that had sent them spiraling into their worst nightmares.

All of that overlaid with whatever the Shredder was up to now. Leo’s nerves were at an all time high. Raph’s temper was shorter than ever. Donny was working later into the days and sleeping less and less. Mikey was doing his best to keep the mood light and joking.

It had been a rough few months, but they had stuck together, they’d supported each other through nightmares and flashbacks and aches and pains. They’d rested together when one of them felt too exhausted to continue doing this.

They would always have each other, no matter how bad things got.

But something felt wrong.

He found Mikey asleep in his room, up in his bed, curled up with a comic hanging from his hand over the ledge. Leo carefully extracted the comic and set it aside for Mikey to find when he woke.

Raph was twitching in his hammock, a frown on his face. Another nightmare. Leo carefully rubbed over his shell and Raph sucked in a breath, mumbling, “Leo? Whaddya doin’?”

“Just checking on everyone,” Leo murmured. “Go back to sleep.”

“Hmph. Make Don go to bed if he’s still up.”

“Got it.”

Leo walked out of the room and headed to Donny’s. As expected, he wasn’t there, so Leo hopped down to his lab.

Surprisingly, that was also empty.

Leo frowned as he stepped inside the old subway car, looking around. Some things had been knocked over. There was broken glass across the floor. The machine Donny had been working on was still humming faintly. A glass of water sat untouched. Donny’s shell cell was still on the table.

Something felt wrong.

“Don?” Leo said, stepping out of the lab.

He checked the kitchen next, but didn’t find his brother hunting through the cabinets. He didn’t find him in the storage room either, or the bathroom. He even went up to check the garage and didn’t find him.

When he stepped out of the elevator, Raph was waiting there for him, frowning.

“Somethin’ felt off,” Raph muttered before Leo could ask. “What’s Donny doin’ up in the garage?”

“He’s not,” Leo shook his head. “I’ve searched the whole place for him.”

Raph’s mouth twitched downwards. “He’s gotta be around here somewhere. Maybe he got a call from April?”

Leo took out his shell cell and called as Raph began searching the rooms. It was enough for Mikey to come ambling out yawning as April finally answered.

“Leo?” She asked, surprised. “Aren’t you guys usually asleep by now?”

“Is Donny with you?” Leo asked. “Or did you call him?”

“No.” Her frown could be heard through the phone. “Maybe he went to the junkyard? Or Casey asked him to help with something? He’ll turn back up, don’t worry so much.”

“It’s…” Leo paused. He didn’t know how to explain it. He knew something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut, in the way it was churning and twisting and tightening. His nerves felt frayed, raw, like an open wound. “I don’t know. Something feels off, April. We’ll check the junkyards and Casey’s. Thanks.”

“Sure, Leo… Are you guys alright?”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.”

“Mikey told me about you guys seeing Bishop again. And Karai.”

Leo was quiet for a moment, before he took a breath to calm himself. “I’ll talk to you later, April. I wanna find Donny first.”

“Okay… Bye, Leo.”

“Bye.”

He took a breath and rubbed his hand over his face.

“Why would he go to the junkyard during the day?” Leo muttered. “Without his shell cell, too…”

“I can’t find him, Leo,” Raph scowled as he stalked up to him. “Where the shell did he go? Why is there broken glass in his lab?!”

“I don’t know, Raph,” Leo said quietly. “We’ll find him. Call Casey and see if he’s heard from Donny.”

“Want me to wake up Splinter?” Mikey asked.

“Not yet.” Leo frowned towards Donny’s lab. “He might’ve gone into the tunnels.”

“I’ll check the pond,” Mikey said, heading over to it. “The diving gear is still here so he can’t have gone far.”

There was a splash as Mikey dove in, and Raph dialed Casey.

Leo stood there, waiting with his breath held, watching Raph, who was looking more and more irritated by the second.

“Casey, you heard from Donny?” Raph blurted into the phone. He scowled quickly. “I dunno! I was hopin’ he’d gone over to your place or somethin’. He’s not with April, he’s not in the garage, he wouldn’t have gone out durin’ the day, he left his shell cell here–”

Raph was cut off by Casey saying something, and Leo realized how tense his shoulders were. He tried to force them to relax, to try and calm Raph as well, but he saw Mikey pop back up from the pond and shake his head as he climbed out.

Leo was becoming more and more aware that his frayed nerves felt like disconnection. Some part of him was missing that he hadn’t even noticed was there before. It made his stomach churn. He could feel it in his bones, in his throat.

Donatello wasn't there anymore.

[popcornforone]

Handling the Situation

A Dave York Fan Fic

Damn it Dave… why are you the best person to write. I mean I’m not complaining. I enjoy it, it makes me feel good. But I always think I take forever now to write him as it needs to be right. So here we are on another Dave York Saturday, getting our fill of our favourite stabby murder daddy.

Synopsis:- You are Dave Yorks handler & have been for 2 years since an injury meant you couldn’t be an assassin anymore. You both have mutual feeling for each other which neither of you have decided to explore until now.

Work count:- 7200

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING! Lack of consent, unprotected sex, boss employee relationship, mutual pining, stalking, murder, assassin stuff, car jacking, PIV, masturbation, cum tasting, fingering, swearing, cheating & adultery. Dave being controlling but what’s new there 🤣.

Yea this was something to right. I hope you all enjoy peoples. Thanks for the read.

“Wait a second” Dave York scowls as he looks at the Mismatching maps he’s got in front of him . One on his screen, & one as a hard copy. “This map is dated from 1998, why do I have a copy of this” his big brown eyes dart between the two. You let out an exasperated sigh.

“Mr York if you’d have let me finish my sentence…” you start before he interrupts.

“Is it hard being the smartest person in the room?”

“I wouldn’t know, is it?” You scoff back & get up from your chair on the other side of his desk & make your way over to him. He would have rolled his eyes at your comment but after 2 years of you being Dave’s handler you’ve both got bored of it. Even though you like the little smirk he pulls afterwards. There’s mischief deep inside this killer. You get to his computer screen & stretch the map. A small sniff of his cologne always arouses you. His warm breath filling your personal space. Your hand grips his over the mouse. It still makes you shiver but not as much as it used to. “Now hold the old school map up to the screen Mr York” Dave does as you requested & you then turn the screen into dark mode. It’s clear now why you had provided him with the older map.

“Are those tunnels?”

“Yes from where they built the subway network” you look at him & he nods. “A third exit should you need it & Thompson isn’t alone or there’s other interested party’s, if you follow this one…”You point & explain that it will lead him a mile away to a power plant.

“Clever girl” he says & he smacks your bum. You try to not moan. Dave flirts with everyone, because he is the best assassin he gets away with it, also his job does require some intimate work from time to time but he has never seen you more than the best handler for him. You used to be an assassin as well until someone sliced off half of your trigger fingers nuckle . But you always planned your own missions before that, so when you decided to become an analyst & handler, Dave practically begged for you. He knew you’d keep him alive. You know what he needs to do to stay at the top & in one piece.

You both then finalise the next few bits of next Wednesdays mission so you can type it up this afternoon for him. It should then be approved on Monday & then the two of you(well mainly you) can get everything in place for Wednesday to take Thompson out. Dave is always impressed with your dedication to the cause he does wonder if you ever switch off. As you remove the usb stick from his computer, along with his signature on the initial report, so you can proposes the final changes, you head to his office door.

“Anything else I can help you with Mr York” you say in a chirpy tone. He usually will say nothing or just ask for another coffee.

“Nah your alright…” but then as you go to leave Dave then chirps up “… weekend plans?” Dave’s never asked you about your weekend plans before. You a little bit stunned. You both keep home & work separate hence you only call him Mr York.

“Erm yes… I do” you turn back to face him gripping your lap top. “My boyfriend wants to take me out for dinner for our 1 year anniversary” Dave looks shocked at this.

“A boyfriend? You kept that quiet”

“You never asked” you giggle “also we’ve actually been together 20 months, but he says it wasn’t official until he’d met my parents & my parents live in Texas”

“Hmm man’s got principles I guess, what does he do”

“He’s an accountant” you say with a sigh ”boring I know but safe, no one’s gonna look for an assassin or a handler with a boring jobed partner.” You say. You know Dave is married, Carol you believe from what you’ve found online about her, that she works as a manager at the big grocery store out of town.

“True, you hoping he asks the question, so you can be more committed” Dave asks. You can’t help but blush at that.

“Well every girls dream is to say I do & walk down the aisle in a white dress so why not,”

“You’d say yes”

“Absolutely, I love him” you suddenly realise this is the most Dave has asked you about your life in the 2 years you’ve been by his side. Pinning for a man you know is unavailable in both your worlds. No sex with coworkers you have always had that rule & keep work & home separate. “What about you Mr York”

“Work & I might watch the golf, might even go up to the cabin I haven’t decided yet” he reply’s he picks up his phone & his lips bite the side of it. He does this from time to time. It always arouses you & you try to not let it affect you. “I genuinely do hope he asks you, I hope he deserves you”

“Thank you Mr York, have a nice weekend yourself” you then do a little smile & leave, once his office door is closed you sigh & calm down. Dave was genuinely nice to you & made you feel seen. You’re angry at yourself for getting aroused while he was being polite. You shake your head & walk back to your desk, this proposal won’t write itself.

*

Dave sits there in his car, watching. He’s been following you for the last 6 months, since you wore that daisy dress to work when you were going out to a birthday afterward & he saw the real you, you let your guard down that day at work & were care free & happy. Dave’s wanted to get to know the real you from that moment. Since then with his own skills he’s followed you around. At a safe distance of course & cleverly. After all Dave is the best assassin in the world he easily goes undetected.

He sits there outside Donatello’s the Italian restaurant, a place you & your other half often frequent & he’s looking at your face. You seem bored & disinterested in the conversation. It’s also not just you as you had said to him on friday, there are friends around you, but by the looks of it mostly his friends. You politely laugh back & smile but the look on your face as you dig into another okayish carbonara says a million things. This should have been your special night but no it’s turned into him & 6 of his mates & 2 of their partners around the table too.

Dave can see your eyes show no emotion in them. You’re not giving anything to this. This was not how you thought your Saturday night would go & neither did Dave. He is half tempted to get out the car, walk into the busy restaurant, March up to you lift you over his shoulders with no explanation to anyone, put you in the back seat of his car & fuck you there & then. That’s what Dave wants. That’s what he’d do in this situation & he now pretty sure from the look on your face that you’ve not cum in months. Obviously standard & safe isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

*

“Fuck” Gus moans as he fills the condom up & rolls off you. You’ve not cum it’s been months & he keeps persisting on using a condom. You like that he practices safe sex but it would be easier for you to be on a birth control that was half decent. He had said no & actually went with you to the doctors to say that you wouldn’t be going on it unless it was injections. You’re seeing the doctor on friday for your next round.

“Well baby that was a decent day” he says & he softly kisses your lips & gets out of bed tying the condom of his already limp penis as he put his boxers on. “& you as always were so good then”

“Yea it was good” you lie to Gus, today had all been about him & his mate Harry. He bumped into him when he was on his morning run & suddenly a day you thought might be romantic & passionate turned into a lads day. You like his friends but today should have been about the two of you & what is happening right now proves it. He’s getting dressed.

“You know you can stay Gus” you say as you scoot along the bed & massage his shoulders to help him relax & start to kiss his neck. “Maybe I want morning cuddles maybe I’m not done yet”

“Baby I’ll be surprised if you can walk after what I just did to you, you’re clearly in a sex haze” you are glad he can’t see you roll your eyes. 9minutes that’s how long he lasted before he came, you clit was neglected & he just humped his way through it. When you do cum it does feel good but it’s been lacking a lot recently. He’s not the sex god he takes himself for.

“So why are you leaving? Why can’t you stay”

“Work starts at 6am on Monday but budget meeting at 8am, so I can’t have distractions tomorrow I need to be at mine”

“But baby it’s…”

“Shhh go to sleep beautiful & I’ll let you know I get home safe”he doesn’t even kiss your lips. It’s your cheek & he heads out of your apartment. You know safe & boring is best but you can’t be doing this for the rest of your life. You need 1 last adventure before you settle down & Gus isn’t hitting the spot in lots of ways at the moment. Once you hear him lock the door behind him, you get out your newest vibrator, & build up the settings as it pleasures your naked body as you rhyth in bed. As you climax on your favourite setting, you giggle at the name that escapes your mouth. You hand & toy are coated in your slick as you moan the name “Dave!” As you reach the best high you will have this weekend.

*

“Morning Mr York” you announce as you walk into his office with his usual black coffee & information for him on the missions approval. It’s the usual Monday happy patter from you. If you start off happy it might rub off on the moody Dave. You notice him in his light blue shirt scrolling through his phone perched on the edge of his desk, deep in thought.

“Morning” he reply’s not looking up. Lost on his phone. He briefly looks up as you shut the door & then he stops & looks up again. You’re in a very nice floral green dress which is buttoned all the way up & stops just above the knee. Your hair is in a messy bun & you have a small heel on. Dave has a double look, your shiny legs sticking out as you hand him his coffee.

“What Mr York, can’t I put in a bit of effort from time to time” you say as he keeps looking you up & down as you hand him his coffee.

“Obviously, it’s just there’s something different about you today,” he says with a smile & then bites on the corner of his phone trying not to think about what he would do to you. “But I notice something hasn’t changed..” he, once he’s put his coffee down, grips your left hand stroking across your fingers “… I see & feel no ring unless your picking one together” Dave sees your face drop a little, your chirpy mood moves on as you sign.

“Yea, turns out my boyfriend wanted it to be more of a friends thing for our anniversary than just us” you say “I still had a nice dinner…”

“& a good fucking?” Dave interupts & you turn bright red straight away.

“Mr York!” You shriek.

“What? You’re a woman you have needs, just like all men & women have needs” he says with a smirk. The hand that was holding yours now brings the coffee cup to his lips, always looking so plump. His phone is on the desk as he strokes his thigh. “So I’m guessing you didn’t have a moment of pure passion then”

“Mr York, there’s a reason we keep our work & private lives separate, I don’t think I want to talk about my sex life with you”

“What if I as your boss asked you to?” He says & winks before slurping more coffee.

“& here I was thinking this was going to be a normal Monday meeting to approve a few things before Wednesday” you scoff & smile. “Let’s just say that my man thinks he gets my needs met but once he’s happy that’s that”

“Damn, a man should always look after his woman first, preferably with oral or fingers strumming her cunt open”

“DAVE!” He pulls a face as you shout this at him “sorry… MR. YORK!” You shout again & then both laugh.

“don’t worry about it sweetheart, I’m amazed you still formally call me Mr York, I’m not gonna murder you for a slip of the tongue like that”

“I’d like to see you try” you respond back instantly.

“Oooh fighting talk, I like that” he says with a devilish smile. “& if I’m honest you’d give back as well as you took” somehow you now know this isn’t talking about fighting talk. Your minds gone dirty.

“Well what can I say, I think all things should be equal, giving & receiving, don’t you?”

“No I like to be in control” he says abruptly almost cutting you off. “I like to know where I stand with everything, so that when I give, it’s given good”his hand forcefully grabs your wrist . “That’s why you’ve not applied to be an Assassin again.” You look dumb struck at him.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business Mr…”

“But it is my business, your my business.” He tugs you towards him as he stands up his right hand grips your chin, firmly. “Imagine if we were a team, 2 assassin working together, the world we could create the missions we could achieve, doesn’t that sound good to you” he whispers all of this in your ear seductively. Your breathing has hitched. You feel his hand start to drift yours to his bulge.

“Dave… I”

But before your hand makes contact & you do something you might regret, the phone in the office rings.

“Fuck” Dave basically launches you out of his personal space & leans over the desk to grab the phone. His moody tone is there. “York, this had better be good” you stand there awkwardly while he berates someone on the phone for not doing the vehicle clean at the weekend for Wednesday. He then smirks at you & says down the phone. “I’m sure my handler can handle the situation, she likes all things being equal” before he slams the receiver down.

“I’ll go deal with that then Mr York, here’s the files for Wednesday” you say & don’t even really look at him. Had he sexually harassed you before that phone call? You hadn’t kissed or touched him. Was it his power over you? As much as he knows you can do what he does, does he enjoy those moments.

It’s not long after you sit behind your desk sorting out the last few things that for Wednesday’s mission that you get a message from him.

We good? Y

You smirk & reply.

Nothings changed Mr York, let’s concentrate on the mission

Glad you’re handling all of it so well. He reply’s

*

Dave lies in his bath on Tuesday night. He always has a bath the night before a mission. It calms him down. Carol always moans that he takes too long, but she lets him off, she knows he has “an important client” tomorrow. He should have asked her to join him in the bath, get his frustrations out on her, but he didn’t instead he’s got the last 5 days cctv from work of you, watching you bend over to pick up files, that little giggle you do with the tech guys & then he watches all the interactions he’s had with you. His length is pulsing, throbbing in his hand as he listens via his ear pods, a few suggestive things said between you both.

“Fuck baby” he growls as the bath water which was starting to get a bit too cold, now has lashes of his cum added to it. He almost knocks his iPad into the bath, as he jerks away mumbling your name.

*

“Coms check” you say as you get out of the car to set up your own radar to do the mission on Wednesday afternoon.

“Loud & clear sweetheart,”

“Good, although we should still use the code names Boss, not sweetheart, no matter how nice that sounds” you say as you look roughly at the spot he will be setting up his sniper rifle. It’s a clear day, not as many people about as you thought & Dave should have a clear shot to take the target out. Everything is going to plan, a little too well to plan you have in the back of your mind. You slip into the back seat of your Audi with the blacked out windows & connect the additional radar to your set up so you can monitor everything as the doors lock.

“Well I’m okay with calling you Hand if you want, I mean I am the boss,” he jokes back to you once he sees you are safe in the back of the car & looks through his site at the building 2 blocks away from you. “But what would you really like me to call you” he says & you can heart his breath hitch in your ear piece. Is Dave flirting with you on a mission?

“Boss, I’m gonna call you Boss” your trying to keep focused, it’s your job to keep other things entertained while Dave does his killing & to let clean up know when he’s done & to also check for possible complications.

“Well I’ll make sure you do call me that on every occasion, & I can hear your eyes rolling” Dave chuckles. His tone then changes. “Package has arrived” you’re always so amazed that Dave can switch it on & off so quickly. The target has arrived in the building & that’s now his main objective. You & carol could be scissoring in front of Dave right now & he wouldn’t notice at all. You’re glad he’s back in the zone.

“Traffic is good, from what I can see his next lot of security should arrive in 11mins, but oooh no” you click 8 buttons to cause lights to go Green & cause 2 traffic collision “looks like they will be delayed by 6mins taking the alternative route.” You click your timer for 18mins & so does Dave, you hear the beep from his watch down the phone. You both know that being 2 blocks away means you can get back to Dave before that time, but Dave’s got to make sure he doesn’t get spotted & if he needs to additional hits need to happen.

“Copy that” Dave says & you hear the clicks & snaps of the rifle ready to take aim.

“In your own time Boss” you say & then you hear one of your favourite things in the world. You’d never tell Dave this but it’s the way he breathes as he slows his heart rate down to get the perfect clean shoot. It’s not all bang like in the movies. Dave can do that, obviously with all the drama & can kill at close range & get into a fight if he has to, but him sniping someone & the way those lips softly part at each exhale, it’s so attractive. His eyes dilated in concentration too. You enjoy it for a few seconds you get to hear it before the burst of noise. Dave makes the shot after only 2minutes after the timer started.

“Clean, precise, call clean up” Dave declares down the radio.

“Confirm?”

“Confirm target down”

You then switch to your clean up squad who are on the ground floor of the building (hence why tunnels were needed on your map originally, but they were a final back up for Dave) & you tell them to move in with their timer set for 5mins there’s 4 of them so they can do it that quickly. You can hear Dave packing his gun away.

“Estimate?”

“4 no 6minutes, the lifts not working”

“Copy” you quickly leap out the back seat of the car & get back into the drivers seat & put your foot down. This means Dave expects to be coming out of the back door of the rendezvous at that exact time. Your car should be there so he can get out of the door & into in it 10seconds before you drive off. Your sat nav is linked to the set up in the back of the car for the best route, to avoid all the issues you set up with traffic earlier.

“Clean ups just confirmed clean & identification Boss” you say to him with you being 2 minutes out. Dave doesn’t reply, if he’s got that many stairs a to run down, he’s conserving energy. You eventually approach the building next to the one Dave took his shot from & slow down to do a reconnaissance loop, everything is clear, so you put the car in reverse ready to go & collect Dave. You pull up 20 seconds early & hit the unlock button to the car door, when suddenly the door flys open & two large hand drag you out.

“Fuck” your scream grabbing the keys & putting it in down the back of black leggins.

A burly face looks at you but your now more concerned that there is cold steal of a barrel now against your forehead.

“Keys now” a voice screams from the side of you. You realise that you’re about to be car jacked. It’s the second man who screams this. & you just shake you head at them, as your eyes fill up with water. These guys must have seen you do a loop & waited for you to pull up. They can’t have this car for so many reason.

“Seriously gents, you’ve picked the wrong day & car to Jack. Just walk away & it won’t cost you your life” you say calmly, but you gulp. they both have masks covering their faces but you can see their eyes. The one with the gun pointed at your head his hand is slightly shaking. The one who has you gripped against the door frame is much firmer, but you can tell my his eyes & hair he’s no more than 19. You don’t want Dave to have to kill these two who have just got lucky today in your 3 second lapse of concentration. It’s most unlike you. You’re also speaking very clearly because you know Dave will be picking this up.

“Ha” the one holding you cackles. “& what makes you think we won’t shoot you & take the car anyhow” you quickly side eye the barrel & realise they are blanks which will still hurt but won’t kill. You can also hear Dave counting down from 20 in your ear, he’s clearly waiting for his moment.

“Because” you stutter as the grip around your neck gets more as your hand reaches to the back of the car seat which has a small knife in the head rest. “Your amateurs…”

“We’re pros” click. Dave has snuck up to the one holding the gun behind him his gun firmly against his head. “& you picked the wrong day to do this”. The other man looks in shock his grip lessens. It’s enough time for you to wiggle slightly & grab your knife, in all of 4 seconds its plunged into the man with the guns thigh. The scream he lets out is ear piercing.

*

“Where the fuck were you?”

“Why were you early?”

“Why did you not tell me there were people near?”

“Why the fuck didn’t you check for blind spots & randoms?”

Dave & you have been going back & forth for all the way back to HQ since the incident.

Luckily you were both covered enough by your faces that you didn’t need to kill the two kids. Taking them hostage was never plan. Instead you took the two of them who you both injured & dropped them near an emergency room. The smell of piss & vomit you get used to, but it’s still not nice, the car valet will not happy that they have to deal with that. But they were just kids trying to car Jack with a fake empty gun. Anyone else would have given in but they just happened to go for you.

“Because I did so I did my slow loop & came back to your exit, & in the time after I’d checked the back mirror & unhooked my seatbelt to come & open the door he’d sprung up”

“But from where” Dave demands.

“I don’t fucking know Dave okay!” You snap back, a little too harshly.“Another door or behind a bin or over the fence, I don’t have a clue, but the car wasn’t stolen & we completed our mission”

“& to think I was…” Dave then pauses & rubs the back on his head his black beanie hat coming off as he does it. He the looks you up & down. You’re sat on his desk in your black skin tight leggins, black vest top & you still have your own beanie on. Your jacket hanging off the door.

“Say it Dave” he knows your as pissed at him as he is with you. You’ve used his first name twice now.

“No it will just piss you off even more”

“Well I’m already angry & moody so you may as well…”

“I was gonna fill out you application to get you license back!” He interrupted abruptly & the room falls silent, those words hanging in the air.

“Dave, you… you were what…” it a soft tone that leaves your mouth for the first time in about an hour.

“I was going to apply for you to be a full time assassin again.” He shrugs “but if your gonna get jumped by some kids maybe your not up for it, maybe you have lost your game & nerve” he’s rubbing his neck as he says this. His chest is heaving. That skin tight black tshirt is stuck to him. He’s taken off his Kevlar vest & is looking mighty fine, everything clearly defined, including the outline under his black cargo trousers.

“Dave I… I don’t know what to say, thank you & also fuck you for saying I have lost my nerve”

“Well if I’m honest…” his voice trembles “…I’m not sure I can have you being my handler anymore” that shocks you. You freeze, time stops, you don’t breath, your heart doesn’t pump. You eyes fill up.

“What!” You panic. This job means the world to you, if Dave doesn’t want you as his handler something must have happened. He stares at the floor. “You can’t just say that Dave & not fully expect me to understand without an…” you don’t get the word explanation out of your mouth. Dave marches across the office & grips your chin before his lips vigorously clash with yours. You lean on the desk, stuck in the spot, you minds tell you no for so many reasons but it only takes a second for your hand to trial down his side & rest of his hip. His own hands are holding & caressing your face. Kissing you like his life depended on it. You feel alive for the first time in a while at someone’s touch & you instantly feel arsoual taking over.

“Dave” you mumble as you push him back slightly. “We can’t, for so many reason. You’re my boss I’m your handler, I have a boyfriend you have…”

“When did he last make you cum?” He says bluntly.

“Erm…”

“Exactly” you aren’t wearing a belt his hand slides straight down your leggins under your panties & straight for your clit. He smirks that it is so slick. “Good girl” you gasp, as he calls you this the friction has started.

“Mmmmmm fuck” you moan before Dave’s lips find yours again, he nips a few times at your bottom lip while he sees to you, his tongue more than welcome inside your mouth.

“Dave… stop I’m gonna … i… I…”

“Let go sweetheart let Dave handle the situation for a change” you then feel two long fingers slip inside you & the friction is intense.

“Oooooohhhhhhh fucking fuck” you gush & cry as he makes you cum harder than you have done at any point in the last 3 months with Gus. He is delighted how quickly he got you off as you are perched there panting. “Fuck Dave, we we shouldn’t. Your married”

“It’s not technically cheating as long as I don’t cum inside you”

“What!?” You say in shock, before he lifts you up & he pulls you leggins & panties down in one movement, his eyes light up at the mess you have both made.

“Oooh fuck baby” he growls before he Burries his head between your thighs lapping away at the wetness dripping down.

“Dave stop”

“Why?”

“We shouldn’t”

“You really want me to stop? What does your body tell you?” He lifts his head as he removes your shoes so everything comes off from the waste down. It gives you a few second to think.

“My body is enjoying it & my head says I deserve it, but my heart…”

“Gus doesn’t deserve you, you’ve been miserable, let me take care of you”he says as he strips off his black skin tight tshirt. You know the man is Broad & well built but this is a feast for the eyes. You lick you lips expectantly.

“Wait…” you pause”how do you know my boyfriends name”

“You don’t wanna know” he says with a smirk before he unbuckles his belt. You’re not sure if you should move in pure fear or consent to your boss fucking you.

“Dave I…” but he grips your chin as his belt slides out through his other hand.

“Sweetheart the only words I want from you are your consent & your moans, don’t make me shut you up with this belt.” He hits the desk with the buckle. His eyes fully dilated full of desire. Those black cargo pants are not hiding his erection to well. you softly nod. “Vocally sweet heart “ your head is lifted more.

“Promise not to cum inside me”

“Promise, let’s get your uncorking situations sorted.” Dave’s lips meet yours again. He lifts you up & carries you to the sofa in his office. His hand gripping your arse so hard as the two of your mouths feast on each other. He lays you down & you go to shimmy off your top but Dave rips it if your body.

“I might have needed that Dave”

“Bollocks to it” the long noise of his fly unzipping has you rhything “ooh baby I don’t even have to touch you to see that body desperately craving a real man’s touch.” You fling your bra across the room. You no longer care that you are about to cheat on Gus. Your fantasy that you’ve had for the last 2 years is about to happen. Dave York your assassin your boss is about to fuck you until you can’t move.

As he drops his trousers & boxers your legs part more. The site of his long girthy penis sends shivers down your spine. He’s definately going to pinch.

“Impressed?” He says as he slips in between your thighs, he licks his fingers & they start to strum your sex making you moan.

“Fuck”

“God I’ve wanted to do this for a long time” he groans, as he teases your clit with his cock. The pre cum dripping mixing with your own arousal. “Gonna make you realise your worth sweetheart” he moans before he fully in one long deep push goes balls deep inside you first time.

“Oooh my god, fuck oooh fuck” you moan grabbing the grey sofa materials. The sting feels magnificent. You feel like any movement he makes your gonna cum straight away. He’s looking at your erect nipples on your breasts, your chest & tummy heathing, the little sweat beads forming on your head & then he slowly starts to move his penis out. “‘Mmmmmm ooooh”

“Take it that’s good”

“Fuck yesss Dave… oooh god” he slams in again & hits the spot, everything tingles & your senses are exploding.

“Does Gus do this?” He says as he does the same move again. You shake your head.

“No mmmmmm” you can’t stop moaning each time you mmm or ohhh Dave smirks. He’s getting naughty noises out of your mouth. He wondering would that small mouth of yours take his cock. How far could he ram it down your throat.

“Man doesn’t know how to make a woman feel good, doesn’t deserve ooooh fuck” Dave feels you clamp around him. Almost milking him if his seed at this early stage. “Hold off a bit longer sweetheart please” he lifts your leg & puts your left foot on his shoulder & then he finds his rhythm. He’s in the zone.

“Oooh my god god my god oooh fuck” you don’t know what you’re moaning. Even though Gus isn’t the best lover none of your other lovers or partners before him have felt this good. Dave’s working & rolling his body. The happy trail from his belly button down to the base of his length due to his hip action, is hypnotic. The man can move. He concentrating so much but you can also hear from his own moans that he is getting pleasure out of this too. “Oooh baby”

“Fuck oooh come on girl give it to me,” one arms stretches while another caresses your breasts. He wipes the sweat from his brow with the hand not holding your leg in place before he returns to your neglected clit. As the friction grows you can’t hold on anymore.

“OOoh shit shit shit” you cry “fuckkkkk” you scream as you climax, drenching Dave inside you. Dave look on in wonder as you scream, he’s sure people know he’s fucking you. He doesn’t care.He looks as you lie there spent but he’s not done yet.

“Oooh sweetheart we can do more than that” he says as he quickly withdraws then flips you onto your front.

“Fuck” you scream as he lies on top of you, his balls already banging as he’s deep inside you again. You go to turn your head to look at him but he pushes it into the sofa.

“Fuck your even tighter baby.” He snarls, his rhythm is unrelenting.”how bad is your boyfriend”

“Mmmmm” is all you can get out muffled as he fucks pounding away. He fees so good. You can feel the next orgasm approaching already.

“Fuck fuck fuck Dave” you groan, it leaks down your legs your cum, you know this sofa isn’t new but it’s going to have stains on now.

Dave’s a machine, fucking you hard for over an hour all sorts of positions. You enjoyed it each time he withdrew & covered your arse or belly in ropes of his cum. He was being true to his word. He wasnt cumming inside you. He didn’t care what you thought anymore & actually neither had you. He was giving you the pleasure you had craved for the last few months. Boring Gus with his very safe sex wasn’t going to cut it anymore.

As you bounced up & down in the cowgirl position, Dave licked his lips. You’d been exactly what he had hoped for. He knew what he was doing was wrong but with you being so willing to give it back to him he was enjoying pleasure too.

“Gonna cum once more for daddy” he asked, sweat covering his body.

“Mmmhmmm yes boss” you say still calling him the code name.

“Think you can handle me”

“I always do”

“That’s my girls” he slapped & then grabbed your arse cheek & this made you clamp around his cock so hard. It made him moan “fuck” he did it again & again. Each time you moved more, each time the slap was harder, each gasp you made was more erotic. He’s struggling to control his urge.

“Oooh Dave, more more more” if anyone was recording this it would be a blur At the pace he is going. He’s hitting the spot each time, your previous arousal leaking out. It’s too much. His moves, your pants, the way your boobs jiggle. You’re both gonna explode.

“Oooh fuck baby”

“Yes just like that” you whimper as he sticks two fingers in your arse, he’s not claimed that but it’s enough.”yes yes yes yessss yesss oooh fuck Dave!” You scream & cum, eyes rolling into the back in your head. Squeezing him with all your might.

“Oooooh fuck fuck fuck!” He cry’s, he can’t withdraw in time. He cums & fills you up, painting every inch of you. Both your slicks mixing together inside you “fuck yes” he growls before he kisses you firmly. Neither of you have realised what Dave has just done. Your both on a come down, slowly rocking into each other, panting & giggling in between kisses. Sweat from you dripping onto his chest. He sucks your left breast to calm down before he slowly & delicatly unseats you & puts you on the sofa as he goes into his desk drawer for some wet wipes, for you to both clean up. It’s only as he starts to wipe his dick, his face drops.

“We… oooh fuck” he stumbles upon his realisation.

“Yea we’ve both been unfaithful Dave”

“I’ve never cum inside someone before, other than a girlfriend or my wife, on missions I cum in their mouth or on their tits, why couldn’t I stop with you?”

“Well you did the first few goes…” he then abruptly interupts.

“Your on birth control right?” Your face drops it’s Friday you see the doctor. He freezes”you are right”

“My period ended yesterday & im getting my birth control shot on Friday” you say which is a partial lie, you begin ovulating tomorrow, Dave could have just got you pregnant. You both glaze over, Dave at the fact that he’s cheated after years of being “careful” with lots of targets for information & you for the fact that your Boss could have impregnated you. You both stay silent as you get dressed unsure what to say your relationship no longer the same. Once dressed you put on your jacket & do it up so that when you leave his office you aren’t just in your bra. You stand up & stroke his face.

“Is there anything else I can do for you mr York?” You say as if nothing haa changed but everything has. You sound sad.

“No, I’m all good” he doesn’t even make eye contact with you & you leave. You head straight to the women’s bathroom & throw up, sick to your stomach at what you just did, even though it made you feel to good.

*

You sit in Dave’s office on Monday morning waiting for him. You’d tried to work together on Thursday & Friday but it was awkward. The genie was out of the bottle, the dynamic different. You’d then been to the doctors & then spent the weekend assessing your life. You’d come to some decisions that would change a few things, but you thought it was best to be truthful with Dave first. When he walks in he’s shocked to see you waiting.

“Morning”

“Morning Mr York we need to talk” you say. Your sat on the sofa you consummated your passion on & Dave comes & sits beside you. He looks white. On the table by the sofa is both you coffees some paperwork & a little box. Dave looks at the long thin rectangular box suspiciously.

“Can I…” you nod & he unpacks the box. There is the pregnancy test you took before the doctors. He sighs deeply. “Thank god for that” he says looking at the negative test.

“I took a morning after pill to be safe as well Dave” you then hand him the envelope. “That’s for you too” Dave without hesitation opens the envelope. His head is still processing that you aren’t pregnant. It takes him a few minutes to realise. He grabs your knee straight away when the realisation hits.

“No!”

“No”

“I won’t allow it”

“What”

“Youre the best handler I’ve ever had, I can’t lose you, not over a couple of hours of sex”

“Dave… I”

“No you can’t, it’s stupid”

“Will you let me explain” you shout. Dave looks shocked. He’s never heard that tone before from you. “I spent the weekend thinking things over, I want to take my license again, I want to be an assassin, or at least a full time driver or back up & I want….” You gulp “& I want to do it with you” Dave’s face is stunned. His face then lights up & he hugs you.

“Ohhh really, you want to go back to this, you want us to be a team a real team”

“We always were a team Dave, I just need to stop living the safe life, see where I belong, get back to what I’m good at, I was holding myself back, but after that mission & then when it almost went wrong & the the rush & the passion, I can’t give that up”

“& Gus…” he asks

“Well let’s just say safe isn’t for me.”

“& I am” he asks raising an eyebrow, “you know I’m married right”

“I do Dave”I then smirk”but it’s not cheating unless you fill me up with cum” he laughs back at that.

“Naughty bitch” he scoff “you’ve got the grips of this whole situation havent you?”

“Isn’t it good to be the smartest person in the world?” You ask.

“I don’t know does it?” He can’t hold back & his plump lips crash either yours, his hand goes up your skirt & he’s amazed when he realises you aren’t wearing any underwear. “You tease” he says as that large flat thumb starts working your clit. You moan instantaneously.

“Only for you mr York, only you”

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Snakes likes snakes | The Salesman x Recruiter!Reader

Summary: Reader works like The Salesman, both have a friendship, maybe there is more to it.

Notes: Takes place before S2 and after the end of S1. Grammar mistakes.

If the Salesman had to say it was a different day then he would be lying. It was the a normal day down in the subway, waiting, looking out for the men and women who were his target. To say he was getting boring was a understatment, he craved something different, or at least someone different. He had become so used to the same speech and same fake smiles while working, he was sure part of himself had died long time ago.

"You did not get enough slaps today?" A voice he could point out anywhere asked taking a seat besides him.

"What are you doing here? You know we are not suposs to cross our area"

The person besides him laughted, it was a quiet one, and most likely fake, yet The Salesman found comfort in it.

"Please, like you did not go to my area two weeks ago" You responded checking the peopel who were passing, completly ignorant to him and you, and the danger you two carried.

"That was different, i was ordered to watch over you in case-"

"In case that bulky man tried something? Please, even you can make up a better excuse, just admit you were bored here"

The Salesman took a long deep breath then turned to look at you, your eyes were already on him a smirk decorating your face.

"Believe whatever you want"

"Dont be like that, im here to invite for coffee" You faked to be offended by him "Besides, today is your last one, right? Even if he says no, today you finish your list till the next one comes"

The Salesman nodded, not needing to know how you ended up with that information, the target list of each worker was a secret between them and the organization, he assumed you just calculated the upcoming game.

"Do you think that men will cause us trouble?" You finally asked, there was a small hint of worry, no one would have caught it, but he was different, The Salesman was someone who saw the detail in things but on top of that he was your friend. Even if he never voiced it out.

"Maybe. He has been a pain since he won. He could try for revenge but how thats gonna play has yet to be seen"

"You know, we are really fucked if your maybe turns into a yes. The upperheads will cut off peopel like us. To be sure we dont try anything"

Your words were true. The Salesman had know the risks of this work for years now, even if he was one of the best employees of the organization that did not put him on a safe list. He knew you were good at the work too, but you were also someone realistic, if heads were to roll, his and yours could be one of these.

"Dont worry, i wont let them touch you" He said as a train passed, its sound masking his words from others and only heared from you.

"Carefull, i will think you care for me and all. But same feeling, i have your back"

The Salesman nodded checking his watch then getting up, flexing his neck and shoulders, he did not notice he was under so much stress. He did notice how your eyes seemed to linger and follow his movements. He turned towards you, taking his suitcase and offering you his hand, smiling when he saw your suddend blush.

"What? You still have one name"

"His schendelure is not strict, the hour he should have been here has already passed. Besides, you did say you came to invite me for a coffee"

Not wanting to lose the chance to enjoy some precious time with him you took your own suitcase and his hand. Both started to walk towards the stairs.

"Our usual place?"

"Yes, our usual place should be just fine"

[brighteststar707]

Fic request for Jumin and White Chocolate for @altaluneslair!

the direction I'd like it to go in is having a date with him for the whole day in cheap and commoner places without travelling by his car~ So, the date may go: travelling by public transport, eating street foods in the market, playing in arcade game center, dining in small gopchang restaurant, attaching love padlocks in Namsan Tower, just strolling around somewhere, or etc.

I'll be honest, I spent a long time watching Seoul vlogs and reading travel pages to write this fic 😅 I tried to get the details and setting right but my skills are limited by the fact that I've never visited Seoul or done any of these things.

That being said, I like how this fic turned out. It's nothing like anything else I've written for Jumin and it was a lot of fun to research and write. I hope you enjoy!

✧ White Chocolate ~ Going on a Date

Jumin and his wife stand side-by-side at a subway station, looking for all the world like any other commuters. Since they arrived at their station, she has been talking to him excitedly about how well-connected they are, that her commute used to be so much longer before she moved into the penthouse. Jumin listens to her talking, content for any information she gives him about her life before. The idea of doing this several times a day is something he can’t imagine. Sometimes, he forgets how different her life used to be, how much has changed for her since marrying him.

The idea for today’s date had started as a simple conversation over dinner just this week. He had stayed back at the office later than usual, so to make it up to her he called in the chef to make them a nice dinner to share when he got home. Over dinner, after talking about their day, their discussion had moved to weekend plans.

“How do you feel about visiting the vineyard? The weather is supposed to be lovely this weekend, we can just relax."

She had nodded slowly, as if in a daze, then her face broke into a good-natured laugh. He looked at her, perplexed.

“Sorry, that sounds wonderful! I didn’t mean to laugh, it’s just that hearing that out loud… it’s still a little bit surreal. Going to the vineyard for the weekend as if it was as easy as crossing town.”

“Probably easier, we wouldn’t have to deal with traffic,” Jumin replies.

“Thank goodness for the plane.”

“So, what would you have us do on our day off?”

“Well, I used to keep a list on my phone of places to go and things to do when I had time off in the city. I haven’t gone through it in a while, but I’d probably have picked some things from there?”

He tilts his head to the side inquisitively. “Like what?”

“Oh, things like trying out new food stalls at the market or playing in the arcade.”

That was what got his attention. He always found himself fascinated by things so common to the everyday person.

“Well, why don’t we do some things from your list? The vineyard can wait until next week.”

And just like that, the idea for their ‘commoner date’ was born. She managed to get him to agree that they’d go out like she used to before, no personal driver, no security team following them (though just a call away and monitoring their locations at all times), no fancy restaurants or exclusive events. She instead took the time to plan out a full day of activities she would have done on a date if she weren’t married to Jumin Han.

Jumin, of course, wasn’t allowed to know about any of them until the day of their date itself.

The subway arrives right on time, and he follows her close behind as they step on. They find a single free seat, and  Jumin automatically stands aside to offer it to her, but she hesitates.

“I admire your chivalry, love, but are you sure you don’t want to sit?”

“Of course I am.”

She doesn’t look convinced.

“Are you doubting my ability to stand?”

“Of course not! If you’re sure, then I’ll take it, thank you.”

She sits down and watches as he stands resolutely in front of her and holds on to the bar (after just a second's hesitation at the idea of the germs). It’s not a bad sight. She convinced him to swap out his usual suits for something more casual and comfortable, so today he’s dressed in black simple trousers and a linen white shirt. His hair is less styled than usual and is floppy and soft over his head instead of combed neatly.

Perhaps she was wrong to worry. He’ll be fine.  

The subway doors shut and it pulls out of the station. The people have crowded closer around each other, and Jumin stands stiffly. The momentum of the train moving makes him wobble dangerously and he receives some dirty looks from the passengers around him.

 “Jumin, I’ll ask you one more time.”

“…Perhaps I should take the seat.”

She slips out of the seat and he sinks into it ungracefully. She stands up opposite him, holding on to the bar a lot more steadily than Jumin was a minute ago. He huffs at the sweet smile she flashes him.

She keeps a mental note of the stops they’re passing and her eyes linger Jumin as he people watches. He has spent so much of his life kept at a distance from people, and she has noticed that he enjoys any opportunity he gets to watch people going about their lives. It’s one of the reasons he likes the charity parties so much, for the wide variety of people he gets to meet.

Finally, they reach their stop and join the crowd of people stepping out and onto the platform.

“So, are you going to tell me what you have planned yet?”

“Well, first of all, I thought I’d bring you out for some of my favourite street food. We can't spend a day out without lunch.”

The entrance to the market is only a few minutes away from the subway exit (and Jumin is starting to understand her earlier excitement at their central location). Entering the market feels like entering another world. Garlands are strung from the ceiling, and the walls are lined with food stalls. It’s almost overwhelming, but he can’t stop looking around.  

Of course, he has known about the food markets in the city for a long time, heard his employees talking about them between themselves and even recommended them to clients looking to experience the city. However, he has never had the chance (or reason) to visit one himself.

It's full of people: groups of friends chattering while in line for food, people clustered around tables and conversing with the salespeople. She doesn’t let go of his hand as she leads him down the line of food stalls and stops at a specific one.

“Oh, Jumin, you have to try this!”

It’s a pancake, by the looks of it, fried in oil. She orders them one each and bring them to the table by the stall. He sits down next to her and she pushes the little aluminium dish towards him to taste.

He takes a hesitant bite and tries to ignore her gaze on him as she waits for his reaction. He concentrates on the pancake instead. It’s crispy and flavourful, and probably has got more oil in it than anything he has eaten recently. It’s delicious, and he tells her as much.

She smiles, satisfied, and starts eating her own pancake. They chat, and he asks her about visiting the market and her favourite foods. As he listens to her speak, he slowly grows less conscious of all the people surrounding him. He isn’t used to being alone – without security – in crowds like this. But despite his face being plastered on magazines and tabloids frequently, it seems like nobody here has recognized him. He even starts to relax a little bit. Clearly, nobody is expecting to see Jumin Han and his wife in the middle of a busy food market in the city.

When they both finish, they get up from the table and keep walking around the market. They stop at one more stall for drinks and keep walking, cups in hand.  

When they leave the market, Jumin is full and content, even excited for their next activity.

“So,” he says, “Are we taking another subway?”

“Nope! This time we’re taking a little walk to our destination.”

And so they do. Hand in hand, they walk down the street. Jumin likes the anonymity being in a crowd of people lends him, likes the security that her hand gives him at the same time.  

His first reaction at the arcade is a sort of shock. It’s dark, full of neon colours and loud noises coming from the machines. It’s overwhelming, to say the least.

They linger in the middle as she surveys the array of games she has to choose from. Jumin stands close to her, eyeing the machines warily. They’re loud and bright, and he isn’t sure what to make of them. Sure, he plays video games at home sometimes (a secret that’s well-kept from the RFA members), but surely this is different. For one thing, his games are not this loud.  

She spots a machine, and as Jumin follows her gaze, he starts to laugh. It’s a car racing game, complete with a steering wheel and gears. He knows what she’s thinking without her having to say anything.

“Come here, Jumin, I want to test out something.”

She ushers him over to the seat, instructs him to get ready to race, and puts a coin in the slot. He sets off, jerking the wheel back and forth with more force than she'd expect from such a machine. She stands behind him so she can watch the screen and cheer him on. For a second, it looks like he’s doing pretty well. That is, before the car slams into the barriers and he gets overtaken by the rest of the racers.  

Jumin doesn’t even wince.

“You’re going too fast to control the car, slow down!”

“The objective of a race is to be the fastest.”

“Yes, but you cannot be the fastest if you keep getting stuck.”

He finishes the race in last place, and she is reminded once again to never let him behind the wheel of a car.

From there, they move on to a few rounds of air hockey (which she ends up winning, despite his best efforts), then a round each on a platformer game (where Jumin actually gets a high score). On their way out, Jumin gets distracted by a little soft toy in one of the claw machines that looks a lot like Elizabeth the Third and insists on trying to win her.

After going through half of their coins, she decides to take over and try her luck. Jumin hovers over her shoulder, giving her instructions and encouragement. After going through nearly the rest of the coins, she gets lucky and catches the little cat toy. She takes it out of the slot and presents it to him like it’s an expensive piece of jewellery.

He holds it gently in his hands, admiring the little toy.

“We’ve freed you now, don’t worry. Just wait until you meet Elizabeth. She’ll love you.”

When they finally leave the arcade, his ears are ringing and the light outside feels too bright. He isn’t sure how Yoosung and Seven manage to visit so often without getting headaches, but he has started to see the appeal of the occasional visit.

He looks to his wife, who is looking out at the street expectantly. He still has no idea what she has planned for the rest of their day. Before he can ask her what she’s looking for, a taxi pulls up to the pavement and she walks towards it to say something to the driver.

“This is for us, Jumin, get in!” She must have ordered the cab when he was busy at the claw machine.

“Isn’t this cheating?” He asks after slipping into the backseat.

“Well, let’s call it a grey area. It’s getting close to rush hour and I don’t think that’s an experience you’re missing out on.”

He agrees.

She refuses to tell him where they’re going next, so he can only guess by trying to identify the streets they’re passing. Luckily for him, their next destination is one he recognizes.

They step out of the taxi and find themselves at the Namsan Tower cable car station. This is another city landmark he has often recommended to business partners, and one he often hears about from others.

He already knows he’s going to like this part of their date. They buy their tickets and wait for their turn to board (he prefers this to the subway). Once they've boarded their cabin, he holds onto one of the railings and she wraps her arms around him for support. He puts his arm over her shoulders and holds her close as they watch the city grow smaller and smaller from the windows.

It's definitely better than the subway.

The sun has started to set by the time they reach one of the viewing platforms. The city stretches out beneath them, but the view is different to the kind Jumin sees from his office. At work, it sometimes feels like he can reach out and touch the city with his fingertips. Even worse, sometimes it feels like the city below is reaching up for him to pull him down to them. As much as he loves his job, the people it sometimes brings to him are the kind who would do anything for a taste of his world. They both know that better than others.

From over here though, he feels untouchable. It’s calming, to have it at a distance for once, instead of being in its centre.  

“I have one more surprise for you, Darling.”

She wriggles free from his arms and starts rooting through her bag. She finally pulls out a padlock. It has their initials engraved on it, and under it a small inscription.

He takes it from her hands and examines it carefully.

“You had this made?”

“I had it engraved for us on short notice. I thought we could do one better than the ones the souvenir shop offers.”

He chuckles. "It's perfect."

They take their time looking for the perfect place to hang it. Walking around the perimeter of the viewing platform, stopping to admire the view as the sun slowly sets, then finally settling on a place.

It’s on the outside of a railing, on top of layers of other locks (a hundred other promises that were made before them) that they choose to fix theirs. They close it together, hands over hands, and then take a second to admire it.

The sun has almost set, but in the soft light, they can still make out the little engraved inscription.

Dedicated to old sunsets and new experiences, I'd follow you anywhere

[darkestrellar]

Tempted as Clarissa may be to have ZED summon Thunderbird into the planet's atmosphere to come pick her and her apprentice up, it WOULD break around fifty different public and intergalactic bylaws. And while Clarissa isn't morally opposed to stomping on the feet of the local law enforcement, or making a few bored business commuters shit their pants when a literal war mech descends above the subway, it would rather inconvenience the rest of her and Svern's little stay. Maybe if it had been their last day on here it might have been fun stirring up the dust on their way out...

With nothing to do but wait on the train service to carry out their emergency repairs so they can get back on the move, Clarissa lays out on the platform with her hands tucked beneath her head as if cloudwatching (ignoring the sideye of fellow passengers). Just their luck to be trapped in the underground. She spends enough time in various bunkers and basements and space stations...at very least they could have gotten stuck waiting out in the open air, where she could feel the breeze wash over her skin and watch the rest of the city carry on around them.

The only air movement down here is the breath being shoved out from her chest as Svern, as if having waited all this time for a "seat" to free up, takes her newly horizontal orientation as an invitation to sit right in the middle of her goddamn torso. He might not be particularly heavy but Clarissa winces as Svern's unexpected weight pins her into the concrete, squishing her internals and jabbing the zip of her jacket into her flesh through her shirt.

Once Svern has settled himself, Clarissa returns to "skywatching", her face totally blank, despite the almost imperceptible tightness of her jaw at having Svern sitting right on her guts. This is all part of their usual little. Svern does something anybody else would react to, and Clarissa just doesn't. Or reacts wrong, or in a surprising way.

Minutes continue to drag along as the too-polite disembodied voice of the station announcement system rolls through its script of safety guidelines and non-updates. Svern shifts just a couple of inches in the wrong direction and Clarissa squawks and shoves him onto the platform.

"Get off, get off, get OFF! Before I either throw up on myself or you make me REALLY need to piss."

Opportunistic as ever, that was Svern. No seats available? No problem, just plant yourself square on top of your mentor instead.

He didn't actually look at Clarissa once while he was moving; just plunked himself right on top of her gut the moment the opening appeared. He knew exactly where (and how) to sit. To the onlookers it mightn't appear deeper than this redhead taking advantage of his companion's questionable choice to lie on the floor, using her as his personal cushion for the sake of his own comfort, but... this wasn't just about comfort, it was about discomfort.

Svern made himself nice and comfy, sitting with eyes up and forwards, still not so much as glancing down at Clarissa to check her reaction. Appearing content like that for the moment, he then waited patiently...

Clarissa silently put up with his weight pressing down where it definitely wasn't wanted. Svern kept a casual track of the time passing, sitting just as still and quiet, which was probably a lot easier to do when you weren't the one with someone's entire body weight pressing on your organs. One minute went by, then two, then an indeterminate number of seconds before he decided it was time to move on to the next phase of the plan.

That little readjustment to his seating position could have been just an innocent subconscious move, if he were someone else, maybe. But with Svern, nothing was ever innocent. He knew what he was doing from the moment he saw Clarissa move to lie down, and he knew what he was doing when he shuffled his butt over to ensure he was sitting in juuust the right way, so his weight was concentrated exactly where it counted.

Now, that should be enough to...

...Sure thing, he was sent tumbling off onto the concrete, with Clarissa's irritated exclamation as the prize for his inconsideration.

Svern made sure to give an indignant yelp of his own the moment he was evicted, as if he hadn't been aiming to cause Clarissa as much discomfort as possible, and he wasn't the primary one at fault here.

"You could've just ASKED me to move!" he complained, picking himself up (he was perfectly fine) and giving her an accusing stare.

[fangsofdestruction]

“A good plan of action. If you’re a quick study, you’ll be able to learn the job well.” If there was something to be grateful for, it was that this was supposed to be an office romance, so Mukuro’s job was that of someone who works in a corporate setting and not something extremely specialized like a scientist or a professor. It wasn’t to say that office jobs were easy as it came with its own fair share of politics and usually a horrible work-life balance.

“If the sound comes off as too much of a surprise for you, you can go into settings and lower the volume. Unfortunately, you can’t mute the sound, but you can make it so it’s slightly above a whisper in volume.” Popo gives the suggestion after noting her full body jerking motion and her comment about being glad it would be a one-time event.

At the question about there being creepy guys on the train, the feline hums contemplatively, one of its ears twitching while deep in thought. “To answer the question… I can’t promise that there won’t be any. I cannot confirm or deny whether or not any instances may be related to an event.” That was the most that the feline could say to the question, but it assumed that response should be enough for her to understand the meaning of its words. “Though, I suppose that would depend on your definition of creepy. Are you asking about weirdos or perverts? You may come across plenty of weird individuals in this game.”

After all, there are confirmed Demons existing in the game, so they may be creepy by her standards. Whichever the case, the answer still applied to whichever (or both) definitions she meant by ‘creepy’.

It wouldn’t take long for Mukuro to get to where she had to stand, and she didn’t have to wait very long for the subway to arrive. “Very convenient that the subway is close to where you live.” Mukuro wouldn’t be required to remember a long commute to the station. It was early enough in the morning that the subway tram wasn’t too filled with people, but there were enough people that a claustrophobic person may start getting nervous if more people come on in the next couple of stops. “There is an empty seat over there.” Popo points out to a still empty seat. She’d be sitting next to a young gentleman from the looks of things. He was reading the morning newspaper.

「I think I need to start with figuring out what it is I need to do at work and then probably socialize a bit and learn more about what's been going on in the office in " my " absence。 」 Since Mukuro didn't really know what went on with office work learning what she needed to do took top priority, after all, she didn't want to raise any suspicions about herself while she was at work。 After all, an employee who was gone on bereavement suddenly forgetting what their usual job was, would raise some questions。

When the ' ding ' sounded off in her head, Mukuro couldn't hold back the full-body jerk that rushed through her when she was surprised。 When Popo pointed down to Mukuro's bag and informed her that the system had a function to indicate that there was an item available to use Mukuro gave a small nod, it was a very helpful system in place and she was really thankful for that。 Thankfully Mukuro knew what she needed even without the indicator system, while it had been a while since Mukuro used the subway system, she could recall the basics of what was needed and where she needed to go。

「That's good that it's a one-time thing,」 Mukuro comments softly as she heads to the subway she'd be taking, glad that there wouldn't be a lot of notifications going off in her mind。「Oh, there won't be any。。​​​​​​​。 you know, creepy men on the train will there?」 She wanted to doubt that could happen, but she didn't know what kind of game this was having never played it before so Mukuro didn't know the exact rating of this game。

[tinyyoungblood]

hi!! adore your work love. could you maybe do smth where stark!reader has to get her wisdom teeth out but HATES the dentist so she brings her boyf peter and her dad w her?? and then when they get home the avengers are all waiting with like comical amounts of flowers and stuffed animals and then reader says some funny shiii and thor thinks she’s like dying lol. idk if that made sense but i’m getting my wisdom teeth out soon and i’m scared😭 thank u so so much love u babe

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

a/n: tysm lovely :,) i rushed through this like my life depended on it, but i hope i’m not too late. either way, i hope you’re okay! it’s frightening but those bad boys gotta go because we don’t need that kind of energy in our lives. enjoy x

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

wisdom teeth? more like wisdoom

y/n has to get her wisdom teeth removed and it’s the singular most dreadful thing she’s ever had to do, which says a lot because her dad is tony richling stark

doing dreadful things she doesn’t want to do but still somehow end up doing just because she can is a personality trait at this point

no one really makes a big deal out of it since ~death~ is part of their job description, but y/n is terrified

and when a stark is terrified the only thing that will keep them one step from insanity is researching the hell out of it

that information will be info dumped into every conversation for the next few weeks leading up to the appointment

“y/n you need anything from the store?” "no thanks, did you know the side effects of getting your wisdom teeth out include ✨sudden death or blood clots✨ tho” “……..i have a coupon?”

the day of the appointment, peter comes along and literally doesn’t let go of y/n’s hand. he keeps touching her to let her know that he’s there and it’s so. adorable

he would rest his hand on her knee, gently stroke her back while holding her, or just play with her hair

happy drops them off and he’s too Cool™ for emotions but he knows y/n’s a wreck, so he just fist bumps her with a single nod and she almost breaks down bc it’s really affectionate

y/n is sitting in the dentist chair and genuinely nothing is happening yet, but she’s squeezing peter’s hand like it’s a sponge

peter might have a high pain tolerance but he’s in pain pain and he prays that his hand won’t just explode on him

the dentist notices how peter tries to keep it together and chuckles

“you okay there, son?” “yea it’s fine, had a better time when a building fell on me tho haha” “pardon?” “oh i mean i didn’t have a good time, i just had a better time”

because y/n is running Anxious Town™, the dentist gives her a sedative to help her relax 

plus, an injection of local anaesthetic to numb the tooth and surrounding area

she doesn’t feel anything and it’s GREAT

the procedure is quicker than expected and now the real fun begins

she tries to walk but she falls down so peter scoops her up bridal style and happy stays glued at her side

y/n doesn’t mind although she literally doesn’t recognise them and they’re practically strangers to her

but girly sees an opportunity and tries to flirt with peter bc why wouldn’t she

“you’re pretty” *blushes* “why thanks” “you should let your girlfriend know” “i should let her know i’m pretty?” “so you do have a gf? :(” “yea it’s you” “:)”

they stop for gas and peter goes in to get some water for y/n, and in her infinite wisdom, she decides it’s burger time

her mouth is completely numb and she’s practically leaving a trail of drool behind her, but she’d kill for a burger right now

so she wobbles around aimlessly for an hour on some random parking lot as if the ground might just magically open up like a rabbit hole and lead her to five guys

she’s going places. not back to the car. definitely not five guys. they’re closed. but places

peter finally finds her and he’s drenched from head to toe in sweat. he doEsn’T wAnt tO tALk abOut iT tho so she lets him take her to subway instead

normally, she would know that peter’s usual subway order is bread-lettuce-jalapeño

but in her drugged-up state, it had simply slipped her mind so now she’s staring at him like he’d just murdered someone right in front of her

“that- that’s your order?? no meat or anything just bread, lettuce, and a little spice?”

meanwhile at the compound, sam and steve are ordering everyone around bc they want to decorate this place before y/n gets home to surprise her

they take it very seriously too. they’ve watched like one HGTV show and said it’s our time

they finally get home and tony gives y/n a big hug, asking her what took so long

happy tells him that she was keen on getting burgers bc apparently someone has taught her that stressful times call for ~cheeseburgers~

he proceeds to look at tony with a pointed look

tony just shrugs and goes “she was a problem child. we don’t mention her dark past”

she’s swaying on the spot and keeps grinning like a fool and thor just stares at her weirdly before elbowing bruce and whispering loudly,

“what’s wrong with her? is she dying? should i start collecting leaves, i know this remedy—"

no one can tell if y/n is just happy to see the newly decorated home or if she’s just delighted to see everyone but then she goes around hugging the entire team

she doesn’t even acknowledge the sky-high pile of teddy bears and flowers everywhere bc she’s just squeezing everybody

y/n is so high, she just starts to spill all of her feelings about everyone and they’re already so overwhelmed by the hug chain they can’t take this too

“wanda i just want you to know that you’re like my big sister and you’re always taking care of me and i know you and vision are just going to make such good parents one day”

“bucky you absolute PRICK, you FIEND, you’re the best chess player ever and that’ll never change and i wouldn’t be good without you, i hate to say it but you deserve happiness even after you made me lose five times in a row yesterday”

“dad, you’re so strong and smart, even though we’re like never on the same page, you’re always along for the ride, i want to be like you when i grow up, i swear i’m gonna try to be as good to the avengers as you were to us” “aww- wait makes you think i'll be the first to die“

“nat you’re such a bitch about your protein shakes but you’re my best friend and i wouldn’t have it any other way, you can try out as many make up looks on me as you want”

“bruce, brucey, i would live with you in your lab for the rest of my days if i had to, whenever you ask me to hand you stuff i feel useful and important”

“laura’s way out of your league clint i have no idea how the fuck you got her but don’t lose her and i want to be your next child’s godmother”

“steve…we’re your family now. we’re always gonna be your family now. okay?”

“loki you’re not fooling anyone with your attitude, we all know you’re part of the family, you were just misunderstood and messed up bc of your dad–FUCK him by the way–but i realised everyone deserves as many chances as they need because of you”

“sam i would genuinely kill anyone who wronged you, even if they cut you in line at the grocery store, i would knife them no hesitation”

“thor, you poor golden retriever have been through so much, on my way here i made a wish on an eyelash for you bc you deserve better, your postcards always make my day, love you”

she mumbles something to peter that no one else can hear but he blushes and chokes back a sob

y/n orders hot soup and bucky brings it to her but before he even has time to react peter drops everything and ZOOMS across the room in .3 seconds

he barrels into bucky so hard they both go flying, but peter just smoothly rolls out of it and onto his feet like some kind of super ninja

“DUDE WHAT THE HELL” “😠 y/n is not supposed to drink hot liquids 😠”

all of this happens in mere seconds but sam has filmed it all and now slow mo clips go viral online of some mysterious kid knocking over the winter soldier

y/n’s a little in and out after that, but when she fully regains consciousness, she’s on a pile of blankets, surrounded by the team on the floor <3

* * *

let me know if this is actually comforting lmao stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist

[dbgdbw]

222화

초행입니다만 (1)

Just, It’s My First Visit, You See (1)

[ Main Quest ] 

[ Sub Quest ]

…and what was ‘sub quest’ supposed to be. For now, I opened up the one that said ‘main quest.’ As I did so, a quest entry cascaded into view.

[ A Main Quest For Honey *?*

In order to earn information regarding the Dungeon raid, please install a Disk in each area!

Once all the quests have been cleared, the Dungeon raid intelligence will be updated, and communications with the assistant ‘Newcomer’ will become possible. 

Disk 1

Disk 2 ← This is the closest!

Disk 3

Disk 4

Disk 5 ]

I pressed ‘Disk 2’, which had a helpful arrow blinking next to it.

[ Disk 2

The installation location of disk 2 is 

‘Goldberg Park Fountain, located on the 7th Main Street of Sorgonne.’ 

※ During disk installation, there is a high likelihood of monsters spawning in response to external interference! Please remain cautious of this!! ]

By ‘response to external interference,’ was he talking about a Dungeon glitch. So far, it had been a monster surpassing A-rank that had appeared. Except that time with Chirpie. 

It seemed installing the disks might be a task better left for after I’d met up with at least one other person, after all. Though, I could put my life on the line and install them still. Since if I just waited for an hour after dying, the monsters would’ve migrated to another area by then. 

‘In any case, ‘Goldberg Park’. Where is this place?’

I might not’ve played many games, but wasn’t there usually a location pin for these kinds of area-objective main quests. Was it that I was supposed to grab any passerby and ask I’m terribly sorry, but could I ask for some directions, how would I go about getting to Goldberg Park? and suss out my own way there. Was there a subway, maybe. Seeing as how there were monsters roaming around, it didn’t seem like there would be any buses. 

Preceding that, I didn’t even have any fare money. Decked out in nice gear and mid-ranked in level, but basically a newbie. At least let me run through a tutorial or something. 

In case it might be of any help, I opened the Sub Quest menu.

[ Sub Quest

First Quest Clear

First Purchase in Store

Newbie’s Monster Hunt(Complete)

There’s A Person Here ]

It really felt like I was playing a game. The last one… had been when my boss asked for my help with an event in a game he played, so I'd grinded up to level 50 with a new character. Close to about ten years ago or so. Five years, for the me now? The Hunter system was set up similarly to a game format, too, but this was being even more overt about it. 

I pressed the ‘Newbie’s Monster Hunt’ quest that had already been completed.

[ Newbie’s Monster Hunt(Complete)

Newbie-nim, who aspires to become a guard who protects the city. We pray that your first hunt will be safely completed!

Hunt one monster 1/1

Reward: 500P, 500L

Would you like to receive the quest reward? YES/NO ]

‘500P’ seemed to indicate points, but what was ‘L’ supposed to be. When I accepted the reward, 툭, a card appeared in thin air and dropped down. It looked similar to a credit card. Embedded on one side was a chip, and written on the other side was Exmunt Bank, Cash Card. 

Was the 500L, the currency they used hereabouts, then. So, how much was it? It wouldn’t happen to be 500 won, right. If it was at least 5.000 won, then I could probably ride on the subway. Assuming a subway system did exist. 

Once I received the monster hunting quest reward, the ‘First Quest Clear’ quest’s condition was also fulfilled. The reward I received this time around was an identification card.

[ Han Yoojin

Affiliation: Medsang City — Regular Citizen

Citizen Identification Number 1559079-1130-02 ]

There was a photo included, along with a chip. Regular citizen, huh, and the picture had turned out nicely too. Did they touch up the ID photos here too.(1)

[ First Steps As a Guard 

Please enter a nearby city defense outpost and become certified as an Awakened.

Reward: 1,000P, dagger ]

It appeared that ‘Guards’ were this place’s equivalent of a Hunter. So the sub-quest was tantamount to a tutorial stage. But I felt somewhat recalcitrant, when it came to the matter of receiving Awakened certification. It was because if it so happened that they were capable of verifying all of my Skills, that could cause the situation to become bothersome. 

Right, he’d mentioned that my Skills might’ve changed as well. I swiftly opened up my status window. Other than the ‘500P’ indicator that had appeared at the very bottom of the status window, there wasn’t much of a difference. Except.

[ Perfect Nurturer(L) - Keyword cannot be applied to individuals who are denizens of the current world. ]

I couldn’t apply the keyword anew to someone while in this world. Though that should have been a given anyway, considering that they weren’t even real living people. And then, the Sapling Skill.

[ All-Seeing Eye(S) - Improved eyesight, capable of verifying health, mana stats for individuals S-rank and under

Permanently Enabled ]

Had changed to this. It did seem to be more useful under the current circumstances. The ability to check rank was the same, with the ‘Optimized Skills’ being swapped with ‘health’ and ‘mana.’ And a visual acuity boost as a bonus, too. 

Since the Sapling Skill only showed the optimized Skills, it was impossible to know all the Skills an opponent might have, or to guess the effects of the ability just based on the Skill name. And then on top of that, since this was a different ‘place’ altogether, the Skills I knew wouldn’t exist here, which would render the Sapling Skill even more obsolete. As it would be unlikely that I’d need to look for a high-potential un-Awakened, at least while I was here, this Skill that allowed me to instantaneously size up an opponent was much preferable. Though it was a pity that it was only effective on those that were below S-rank. 

Outside of those, the ‘Deadly Hatchling Class’s Teacher’ would be unusable on people who were from this world as well. Moreover, the Dragon Slayer title had.

‘The rank’s dropped down…….’

It had gone down two ranks from its usual L-rank, to SS-rank. The Skills connected to the title hadn’t made it out unscathed, either.

[ Poison Resistance(S)

Curse Resistance(S)

Fear Resistance(S)

Lauchitas's Natural Enemy(SS) ]

Excluding the Lauchitas’s Natural Enemy, the lot of them were S-ranks. S-rank would probably still be serviceable, but to think that all those L-rank resistance traits had fallen to S-rank in one fell swoop. It was really too much. It should reset immediately once I managed to leave this world, right?

Aside from that, Mental Fortitude and Agility Up, Find The Hidden Picture, and One More As A Bonus had been left as-is. The same went for the ‘Veteran F-Rank’ and ‘Miracle Rookie’ titles as well. And, perhaps as an option from a new piece of equipment, there was a Skill I hadn’t seen before, too. 

Closing the status window, this time, I checked the details on my weapon. A pistol that was pure white in color, with an antique pattern etched into it. It was shaped similarly to a simple, blunt glock in appearance, but because it lacked a slide that was separated from the body, the overall form was much sleeker in design. It looked like a fake, ornamental gun.

[ White Leopard Cat’s(3) Mana Gun - S-rank

A mana-charged gun that quietly bores into and destroys the opponent. 

Mana Cost Per Bullet: 50~500

※ Loaned to Han Yoojin ]

As for additional options… it didn’t seem to have any. When I injected some mana as an experiment, it seemed that the minimum threshold of 50 was about the same level of power as I’d used earlier. Did that mean it was capable of achieving up to ten times the destructive power. That seemed quite alright? 

Seeing as how it’d culled a C-rank monster in one shot at the lowest level, it appeared that the user’s own capabilities had no bearing on the weapon’s functionality. As a low-rank individual, it was greatly welcomed. 

The only problem was the mana cost. A C-rank monster’s mana had been 155. My basic mana level would be about the same, and even with the mana stat boost the earrings and similar equipment provided, it would still only hover around 500 or so on the higher end. In other words, at max power, even one shot would be touch-and-go. And at minimum, it would still be capped at ten rounds. 

‘Thankfully, there’s plenty of mana potions, but just in case, I should still ration my use.’

There hadn’t been any significant change in the items within my inventory. The jar of dried fruits was still there as well. Lastly, I checked the jacket.

[ Black Leopard Cat’s(3) Jacket ? S-rank

A light leather jacket. Infused with the power of a swift, silent animal. 

※ Loaned to Han Yoojin ]

Was it a Leopard Cat Item set. If I gathered the whole set, would I gain a set effect buff? Perhaps because it was classified as a ‘defense-type,’ its agility option was the highest. Then again, dodging was an effective method too. It appeared that the new Skill that had popped up in the status window had been this jacket’s option Skill.

[ Cat’s Gait(A) - Able to move quickly and quietly, camouflage Skill effects buffed

Permanently Enabled ]

As an A-rank support Skill, it looked to be useful in a lot of ways. Most importantly, I had an A-rank camouflage Skill. If it amplified the effects even turther, then even up against an S-rank, it seemed like I should still be able to get by well enough. It might even be enough to let me install the disks, even by my lonesome. 

Of course, I might still get struck by a stray blow, so it would probably be best to find a party member first if possible. Finished scanning my Items, I closed the window, when.

짜라랑~!

[ ◐▼◐ || Welcome to! Point Store! || ◑△◑ ]

Accompanied by fanfare, a message window suddenly popped up. I nearly jumped out of my skin. A point store, huh—was this the place I was supposed to spend the quest points. 

When I went into the store menu, there were various Items such as weapons, protective equipment, and consumables, all sorted once again by subcategory, such as ‘bow,’ ‘polearm,’ ‘sword,’ et cetera. It certainly had a plethora of assorted items in stock. 

‘Wow, there really are SS-rank weapons, too.’

Just like the Newcomer had confidently asserted, there were several SS-rank equipment within view. Only, the points required for those were astronomical. And there were some Skills that stood out, too. The Skills went up to S-rank at most. And there were things like gate stones… and ranged to others like elixirs. As expected, there weren’t any wish stones. The only thing I could buy with 500 points were low-rank HP potions. Pricey.

It was, essentially, a pie in the sky.

Even so, if I diligently saved up enough points, then it should come in handy in a pressing situation. Before departing the area, as a last check, I approached the monster corpse. Above the sprawling body, I could see a number hovering in the air.

[ 750P ]

Ah, was this perhaps. As my hand came in touch with the number, it vanished. In response, I checked on my status window. The 500P had changed into 1,250P. So I could gain more points by hunting monsters. Being able to earn the Items and Skills of my choice if I busily gathered enough points, wasn’t this great.

To think that such a golden opportunity had been snatched away due to those Reprobate guys’ interference. Newcomer-ah, couldn’t you make another Dungeon like this one, just once more. Even if I spent a year grinding here, I still wouldn’t be able to obtain a single S-rank Item, but the kids could bulldoze through something like monsters no problem. What a waste.

‘So long as nothing comes up, maybe I should stock up on some points here.’

I’d need to meet up with someone first anyway, for dialogue to even become feasible. Carefully, slowly, I moved onwards. As I slipped out of the alleyway while checking my surroundings, a wide road appeared. À la typical asphalt fashion. Sparse smatterings of streetlamps lined the entirely vacant street. 

‘No signs of life.’

All of the towering buildings were blacked out. The stores were all closed, too. Building entrances and windows had been blocked off with thick barricades. Only the streetlights were flickering, and everything else laid silent. 

‘There needs to be someone around, first, to be able to ask for directions.’

Wasn’t there even a police station. Would I have to wait until the sun came up.

- 키익!

A sharp screech sounded from above my head. Scampering on the streetlamps, a monster that resembled a gibbon(4) was speedily rushing close.

 [ E-rank Mori Monkey ]

Both the HP and mana were marked. E-rank, well, it’d be a piece of cake. Right now, I was at C-rank. Instead of the gun, I brought out a military-issue dagger. Only in appearance, of course, as it was a Dungeon Item in actuality.

- 캭!

The monkey leapt down towards me. Dodging easily to the side, I deftly sunk the blade of the dagger into the back of the monster’s neck. The monster perished instantaneously, and ‘79P’ popped up. The difference between E-rank and C-rank was pretty big, huh.

- 캬악!

- 킥!

“Ah, so you had a bunch of friends.”

There were probably about ten or so of them. Taking out the Hunter-use wire rope from my inventory, I wrapped it around one hand. I’d purchased it after seeing Section Chief Song-nim use it, thinking it looked to be quite useful, but as my original body had been unable to properly utilize it, it had just been wasting away thus far. 

Now, I could handle it pretty freely. After shaking out the wire, I pitched it like a projectile towards the shrieking horde of monsters that were swarming closer using the lightposts. 콰득, the end of the wire pierced through one’s skull, and embedded itself in the side of a building. With the line’s sudden appearance, the monkeys that had been rushing forward were unable to halt their momentum and, catching on the wire, 후두둑 topped one over another as they fell. 

Drawing my gun, I fired at the entangled ones as they fell. 퍼억, with a light sound, several monsters were blown to smithereens in one shot. It really was immensely convenient. 

Running without pause, I reeled back the wire and then sent it flying again towards the remaining monsters. I managed to catch one this time as well, but there weren’t any that fell alongside it. It would’ve been nice if I’d had some sort of long-range attack Skill, too. 

Putting away the gun, I brought out a machete. In the next moment, I swung it in the direction of the lampposts the monkeys were holding onto. 

카가각, the sound of metal scratching was brief. The lamppost split in half. As the lamppost began to lean over, I gave it a strong kick, causing it to knock back towards a building that stopped its impact. 쿵, the monkeys all scrambled towards the tip of the lamppost as it fell over. They seemed to be planning their escape by crossing over into the building. 

Launching up from the ground, I sprinted up the slanted lamppost. Because of the sleek material it was made out of and the steepness of the slope, it was a trick I couldn’t even attempt under normal circumstances. But right now, with heightened stats and the help of the Skill, I was able to run along the lamppost as though I were racing on flat ground. 

“Stats really are the best, after all. Don’t you think.”

- 키이익!

I swung the machete at the monster that had been unable to make it into the building, sending it flying. 휙, the airborne monster flew in an arc and tumbled along the ground on impact, before coming to a sprawling stop. I caught up to the rest that had escaped to the roof of the building in an instant. With how one-sided the fight was, it made me recall my earlier days despite myself. 

Before regressing, even in peak condition, I’d had to worry about my life when coming across an E-rank monster pack like this on my lonesome. Ah, of course, I’d have been able to win one-on-one without a problem. It was a combination of raw level, experience, and equipment quality.

탁.

Having collected the points that ranged between 70 to 80, I jumped back down towards the road. It was a relief that only mid to low-ranked monsters had shown up so far, but since a high-rank monster could pop out too.

‘For the time being, should I be using the camouflage Skill while going around.’

It was a shame to lose the mana, but this place probably sold mana potions too, right. The point store was… expensive. Pricing a low-grade mana potion as 10,000 points, wasn’t that unreasonable.

부와앙—

As I was following along the road to better map out my surroundings for now, I heard the familiar sound of an engine. If it wasn’t a monster made out of mechanical parts, then it should be a person. Soon, from the far side of the road, lights appeared and with a great clamoring of noise, a fleet of five motorbikes could be seen speeding towards me.

So it was people, good.

“Hello there!”

Gratified, I offered a greeting first and foremost. Excuse me, but I’d like to ask you for some directions, as this is my first time here, you see. From the frontmost bike, a hardworn face stared starkly down at me.

-----

(1) 증명사진 보정

(2) 숨은그림찾기 

(3) 살쾡이

(4) 긴팔원숭이

+  초행입니다만 →   ‘-다만’

※ yj current specs (listed in ch):

[완벽한 양육자(L)]

떡잎 → 꿰뚫어보는 눈(S)

[드래곤 슬레이어(SS)]

독 저항(S)

저주 저항(S)

공포 저항(S)

[살벌한 병아리반 선생님(n/a)]

[라우치타스의 천적(SS)]

정신력 + 민첩 업(=)

숨은그림찾기(=)

덤으로 하나 더(=)

[베테랑 F급(=)]

[미라클 루키(=)]

>하얀 살쾡이의 마탄총(S)<

>검은 살쾡이의 재킷 ?(S)<

고양이 발걸음(A)

[biconderoga]

Part 1: Here

Scenario: The death of Itadori hung over Y/N’s head at every waking moment. The circumstances were shrouded with mystery, and Y/N couldn’t do anything but carry on with a heavy heart. Minor Spoilers ⚠️ (Just briefly mentions the way Itadori was revealed to the first years).

Word Count: 2,069!! (My longest piece to date-)

“It’s me! The dearly departed Itadori!”

Megumi liked to think he could take a joke. He could handle teasing on his behalf. Gojou was relentless in that field, so it wasn’t a foreign experience for him. Years of dealing with the blindfolded sorcerer taught him to deal with sometimes tasteless jokes.

But this…this was the most distasteful joke he had ever seen. It left an incredibly bad taste in his mouth. He would rather chug curdled milk than deal with the spectacle that was playing out in front of him. His so called dead comrade was wheeled in by Gojou, and surprise surprise! He was alive and well.

Megumi closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a very deep breath. He opened his eyes again, and glared at Itadori. Itadori, sensing the tense atmosphere, feebly made jazz hands in hopes of alleviating the mood.

It did not work.

“So, um,” Itadori rubbed the back of his neck, and continued in a quiet rushed tone, “Sorry about not telling you I was alive and all...”

Nobara’s eye twitched at his apology while Megumi turned around to join the second years. The shikigami user didn’t have time to deal with this. The Goodwill Event currently took priority. Perhaps after it was done, Megumi could properly wrap his head around Itadori’s revival.

He didn’t know what to feel. If anything, he felt anger. Anger on Y/N’s behalf. How would she feel about Itadori’s return? She didn’t know how he died, and would especially not understand the fact he was alive. Megumi was not one for strong emotions, but the swelling of anger in his chest was too great to ignore.

“Oh? What’s got you so pissy, Megumi?” Maki leaned against the wall as she placed her head on the back of her hand, “You seem upset. Shouldn’t you be a bit more relieved about Itadori?”

Megumi silently huffed, “It’s nothing.”

Nobara, who was marginal to Maki, rolled her eyes, “Always so secretive.”

“You know you don’t have to keep visiting me…”

Megumi merely nodded at Y/N’s statement, “I know, but it’s only fair that I check up on you.”

Y/N groaned at his statement, “I appreciate the sentiment, but you don’t have to babysit me. I may have been Itadori’s girlfriend, but I’m not nearly as rash as he was.”

He nodded once again. Megumi himself didn’t understand why he habitually returned to Y/N’s residence. She didn’t properly know him, and if anything she most likely associated him with Itadori’s death. He wouldn’t be surprised if Y/N was just being polite. She easily could’ve been putting up a facade as she silently seethed on the inside.

“You can say you hate me,” Megumi paused as he chose his next words, “You can kick me out if you want. I know you probably blame me for Itadori’s death, I know I blame myself.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as Megumi ended his miniature spiel. She shook her head before she firmly placed her hands onto his shoulders, “We haven’t known each other for long, but Itadori did tell me you were strong. I’m not sure where your strength lies, but I do know it’s not your fault. Itadori’s stupid mistakes don’t have anything to do with you. If anything, I hate myself for not asking him more questions,” She lowly whistled, “and I would be lying if I said I didn’t blame Itadori. He was always doing the most, and never took a break.”

Itadori was right, Megumi did like Y/N. Despite the fact she knew absolutely nothing about the circumstances of his death, Y/N was still able to continue forward. She was hurting, but she still took her time to confirm her faith in Megumi.

“Before he…” The sorcerer paused and swallowed thickly, “…died. Itadori told me I would like you.”

Y/N weakly laughed, “And do you?”

“You’re nice…” Megumi smiled, “Itadori got lucky.”

With the goodwill event said and done, Megumi found himself back in his dorm. His blinds were shut, and he was curled beneath his covers as he nursed a headache. No matter the occasion, Megumi found himself injured…

A quiet knock resounded throughout his room followed with a weak, “Hello?”

Megumi shifted under his covers and huffed, “Who is it?”

Silence was heard before the voice mumbled,“Itadori.”

‘Ah,’ Megumi thought, ‘He’s alive’ Following all of the hustle and bustle of the festival, Itadori’s miraculous revival was the last thing on his mind. Megumi processed his answer. He liked his lips before he uttered a, “Come in.”

Itadori entered the room and stood awkwardly by the entrance. He rubbed the back of his head, before gathering the courage to speak. “I heard you made everyone the meatballs I taught you how to cook…”

“Yeah,” Megumi sat up, “Everyone liked it.” The black haired male scratched his head. Itadori was usually a straightforward and happy-go-lucky person, this tense small talk was beneath him. “What do you need Itadori?”

“Ah! Well-you seem distant? Are you still mad at me?”

Megumi shrugged and feigned indifference, “I was never mad. I’m just not used to dead people being revived.”

“Oh, true!” Itadori visibly calmed, “Well if your not mad, can I ask you something?”

Now there was the Itadori that Megumi knew, blunt and straight to the point. The male raised his eyebrow, a silent indicator for Itadori to continue.

“So um…about Y/N…” The vessel fiddled with his hands, “She’s probably real mad I went M.I.A without telling her. Especially, after going a two months without contact! Can you be my excuse? Like we can say we were on a surprise field trip in the middle of the country.”

Megumi sighed at Itadori’s rambling. It seemed to be an ongoing trend that he was the bearer of bad news. First, it was Itadori’s death to Y/N. And now, it was the fact Y/N now thought Itadori was dead. What was first an act of kindness on Megumi’s part was now a huge problem for Itadori.

“So whaddya say?”

“She thinks you’re dead,” Came Megumi’s blunt reply, “If you’re ever going to talk to her again, she deserves the truth. She isn’t going to blindly trust you after thinking you were dead. It’s the least she deserves.”

Itadori’s eyes widened into saucers, “Who told her? Gojou-sensei said no one would—“ He threw himself to the floor and rolled back and forth, “He said since she was a regular person no one would bother telling herrrrr.”

As Itadori continued his senseless bemoaning, Megumi took in a deep breath. The black-haired male rose from his bed and approached Itadori. He gently kicked his side (in a silent hope that it would shut him up) before he spoke, “I did.”

“You did? I thought you hated doing that type of thing.”

“I do,” Megumi rolled his eyes, “But it isn’t fair that she would’ve been waiting for a dead person to call her.”

“But I’m not dead!”

Megumi’s vein nearly popped out of his forehead, “Well I didn’t know dumbass!”

“Can you pass me the ginger paste?”

The male nodded as he foraged through Y/N’s fridge. Once found, he tossed it to her. The girl fumbled to catch it, and playfully glared at Megumi when she did.

“Did Itadori teach you how to make the meatballs?” Megumi queried, “He taught me how.”

“Yeah right, it was me who taught him.” Y/N kneaded the meat in the bowl, “He failed to mention that didn’t he?”

The stutter of the subway cart knocked Megumi out of his thoughts. To his right was Itadori, who appeared to be contemplating something. They exited the cart, and like many times before, they started on the familiar route to Y/N’s residence.

This current predicament eerily mirrored his first meeting with Y/N. Except this time, Megumi brought good news instead of bad news. Hopefully Y/N would take it well and not blow up in anger. She had every right to be angry, but Megumi had an inkling she would hear them out.

“Should I surprise her like I surprised you and Kugisaki?” Itadori pumped his fist, “She’ll probably swoon and fall into my arms! It’ll be super romantic!”

Megumi deadpanned, “I don’t think she’ll appreciate that.” Was Itadori truly that dense? Didn’t he see how Nobara reacted to his revival? He could only imagine how his actual girlfriend would react, “Didn’t you see how Kugisaki reacted?”

“True…” Itadori pouted and placed his hands on his hips, “She looked like this, and she kept glaring when I spoke.”

“I wonder why…” Megumi rolled his eyes at Itadori’s theatrics.

“Then what do you suggest?”

“I suppose I should break it to her…” He ruffled his black locks, “Then when she’s ready you can come in.”

“Alright…”

With a nod, Itadori walked out of view. Megumi took a deep breath, before he knocked on the door.

“Where do you keep running off to? The second years keep nagging me whenever you skip training.” Nobara crossed her arms, while she tapped her foot on the ground as she waited for Megumi’s answer.

“To visit Y/N,” Came his short answer, “After I told her about Itadori’s death we exchanged numbers and kept in contact.”

“Oh…” Kugisaki murmured, “Tell her we should meet up sometime. Maki’s the only girl I’ve talked to on a regular basis,” She pinched her nose, “There’s too much testosterone here.”

“So…what is that you need?”

“Uh, can we sit down?”

“Right, ok...”

Megumi awkwardly trailed behind Y/N as she led him to her couch. He tugged at his uniform’s collar. Was his uniform always so stuffy? No, it was just the nerves. Megumi was at a lost about how to break the news. He wished it was as simple as watching a YouTube video titled ‘How to tell a girl their boyfriend isn’t dead!’. But alas, here he was, with a choked up expression painted on his face.

“What is it Megumi? You’re freaking me out.”

“Itadori isn’t dead.” Megumi truly needed to practice on his execution. His forward way of speaking could easily rub someone the wrong way. The poor guy couldn’t help it! His nerves always loosened his mouth. It wasn’t normal to just vomit information like that. His execution was so poor that he couldn’t help but internally cringe.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You’re joking. This has to be a sick joke.” She leaned back onto her couch, “Then again you’re not really one for jokes.”

Megumi slightly recoiled from her subtle insult. It may have been nothing malicious on Y/N’s part, but Megumi was still irked. He could tell a joke! Instead of pursuing the matter any further, he kept his mouth shut. It was inappropriate to complain now.

“I found out a couple of days ago. I would’ve told you sooner, but I was busy with school.” He started, “It would’ve been unfair of me to just tell you over the phone.”

“C-can I see him?” Y/N mumbled, “Is he here now?”

He nodded, “I’ll grab him for you.”

Within minutes, Itadori is ushered into Y/N’s living room. Megumi quietly excused himself as he was not keen on being caught up in a couple’s quarrel.

Itadori was uncharacteristically silent as he witnessed the tears falling from his partner’s eyes. Itadori’s arm slightly raised out to her, but he ultimately faltered. He wanted to reach out and hug her, but he was unsure if the situation called for it.

“Y/N please don’t cry—“

“Two months.” Y/N hiccuped, “Two months I thought you were dead. I got no explanation. I didn’t even get to see your body.” She tugged down her sleeve to wipe her eyes, “Megumi was the only person I could talk to. He couldn’t give me a reason, but he respected me enough to tell me.”

“I’ll explain everything to you, I swear.”

“You’re an asshole for this…you tell me you transferred to some fancy school, and then you die! This isn’t some drama Itadori, you better not have joined some cult!” As her tangent ended, Y/N stumbled over to Itadori and threw her arms around him, “Please trust me, tell me everything from the beginning.”

Itadori tightly returned the hug, and littered kisses on her forehead. Once done, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Of course. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“So you did join a cult.”

“Y/N I swear it’s not like that-“

[p-antomime]

a skirt and a camera are enough.

𖦹 minors don’t interact | wc: 5,5K

𖦹 content: switch!yuuji, a bit of degradation, pet names, public sex, orgasm control,(male) masturbation, fingering, creampie, breeding kink.

pairings: photographer!itadori yūji x fem!reader

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Every day Itadori Yuuji made the same way to the photography studio, and every day he waited to see her. She, who was probably at most a few years, maybe two, younger than him. She, who usually sat fiddling with her cell phone and headphones without paying attention to the world around her. She, who was always immersed in her own thoughts during almost the entire subway ride. Since the station Yuuji got off at was the second on the route after the one the girl got off at, he knew that it was probably the way to her university, since other university students got off at the same station as her.

Yuuji was always sitting on a bench facing wherever the girl was present, sitting or standing, just to pay attention to some of the features and expressions she made during the trip while wishing to capture them through the lens of his camera that was always attached to his neck in a protective way; and maybe he did it a couple of times. Sometimes the girl certainly felt watched and raised her attention to look around, and at these moments Itadori looked away with cheeks blushing a little. Whether she knew he was the one arousing the feeling of feeling watched in her, Yuuji could not discern.

He wished he could get up from where he was and go talk to her sometime, but seeing her so calm and serene made him feel like he was going to be bothering her. Besides, what could he possibly say? That he wanted to photograph her? Nothing was going through his mind as his eyes glazed over the reserved figure of that girl. Maybe he should just approach her, sit next to her, and compliment her?

Yeah, that's what Yuuji would do.

He would. Because the moment he decided to get up from the subway seat to walk towards Y/N, she was already getting up to get off at the station of her probable university. Yuuji didn't even have time to think before the doors closed and the subway began to move again, moving further and further away from the girl who captivated the young photographer. He stared abashedly at the sliding door you had passed through seconds before and couldn't help but sigh in frustration. "Took me too long", he thought as he sat back down in the same seat he was in before his mind urged him toward you. Itadori convinced himself that the next day he would be able to talk to you.

And there he was: taking the subway and waiting for you to get on a few stations after the one he himself had boarded. Would you be wearing the same simple clothes as always? It was impossible for Yuuji not to be anxious to see what you would be wearing today. When you entered the subway along with other unknown people around you, Itadori's mental and personal world shook, and he swore he felt his heart skip a few beats. One skirt. One skirt was enough to make Yuuji blush violently as his eyes clung to your legs.

If he was already attracted to you, now his body seemed to throb entirely to put his hands all over every millimeter of skin that belonged to you and run his lips over any place you let them. Itadori was no longer a teenager, he was well past 20, but still, at that particular moment he felt as horny as a 15, 16 year old.

Swallowing dryly, his eyes clamped down on his own feet in sheer embarrassment. Yuuji took a deep breath and turned back to look at you, who was now sitting a few seats away in the partially filled subway. Stowing the camera around his neck, the man stood up and walked as nervously as he could and soon he found himself sitting in the seat next to you, trying his best not to invade your personal space.

— Hmmm... hello? — Y/N asked, feeling slightly embarrassed and taking out one of her headphones. — Do you... need something? Can I help you?  

— I... — Yuuji tried to organize his own thoughts. — I was watching you a few days ago. — His eyes shifted to the ground.  

— I know, I've been noticing that. — You answered, finding it strangely cute the way his cheeks seemed to get redder as the seconds passed. — And today you had a little courage to come talk to me? — Slowly, Itadori's shoulders relaxed and he leaned back against the support of the subway seat.

— Yeah, more or less, yes. — He gave you a slight smile and looked at you briefly. — May I ask your number? — You turned your body toward Yuuji and noticed his gaze lingering on your thighs for a few seconds.  

— You're cute, why did it take you so long to come talk to me? I've noticed you looking at me for weeks now. — Your eyes analyzing the camera around his neck.  

— It's not easy to talk to a pretty girl. — Yuuji answered with a shrug. — Especially since you always have your headset on, looking like you're in your own world, I didn't want to disturb your going to college.

— I'm going to work, actually. — You corrected him. — And yes, here is my number. — Your hands reached for your cell phone from your bag and showed your phone number to Itadori, who took out his own smartphone and typed your number into it. — What is your name, even? I should know the name of my not-so-secret admirer, shouldn't I?

— Oh, yes, of course. Itadori, Itadori Yuuji. — And then you told him your name.

A wide smile opened on Yuuji's lips and you talked for a time that seemed too short, too insufficient. It wasn't long before your station arrived and you had to get up to go to your personal destination, but Itadori felt the need to do, to say something that would remind you of him for the rest of the day. Almost as if he wanted you to like him in general, his words, his smile, his body language. And then it came out of his mouth:

— You look beautiful in this skirt. — You turned back as the subway doors opened in front of you, and for the first time since the two of you had been talking, you felt your cheeks heat up.

— Do I? — Y/N tried to mask her embarrassment by opening a gentle smile. — Thank you, Yuuji. I like your camera. — Itadori cracked a smile that shone brighter than the sun at you and watched you leave the subway.

For the rest of the day, he couldn't stop thinking about you and, specifically, the above-the-knee skirt you were wearing. Y/N looked beautiful. Not that on other days she didn't, but on that particular day? Her skirt was making Yuuji have dirty thoughts that made him cover his face with shame during the walk to his final destination. And on the way home, her silhouette was still as vivid as if he was still looking at her.

When he got home, masturbating was not the first thing he did because Megumi had called him to talk about the next portfolio of photos that Itadori was to produce and that had not yet been started. There was still the three-week deadline before his delivery was due urgently. When Fushiguro hung up the call, Yuuji mentally cursed him and ran to the bathroom trying to get his clothes off as quickly as possible. Horny, desperate, attracted, several words could describe him at that moment, but probably the most adequate would be: needy. Needing to touch Y/N, to feel her and kiss her and squeeze her in every possible place.

Itadori opened the shower, stood below him and leaned against the wall with his hands on his chest. He couldn't tell if his breathing was racing from practically running into the house or from being too euphoric. His mind imagined not only yours thighs covered by that short pleated skirt, but also that his hands were exploring all the places covered by that piece of clothing, when in fact his wrist was firmly around his cock pumping it up and down. Pink tip, slightly bulging veins decorating its entire length, cheeks flushed from the sudden rise in temperature, even though the shower water was slightly chilled.

It was inevitable that Y/N's name would fall from Yuuji's lips that silently begged to be glued to hers. When did he become so dependent and so vulnerable to you? You hadn't even looked at him for more than 30 minutes and a skirt was enough to make him feel uncomfortably exposed with an erection almost all day long.

His cock twitched against his hand and Itadori pressed the tip of it with the thumb as he felt the water from the shower run down his back and carry with it down the drain the libidinous thoughts and impure acts. Accelerating the movement of his hand against his stiffening cock, a mental image of Y/N wrapping her lips around his tip was all it took to have Yuuji soiling his own abdomen with fillets of white cum.

— Fuck. — He whispered looking at himself through the reflection of the shower stall and noticing how rapid his own breathing was.

Itadori took a deep breath and concentrated on finishing his own shower avoiding letting his mind replay those lewd thoughts around Y/N's figure and that skirt. If he ever thought about that again, he would definitely get another erection. But, even pushing the thoughts of you away, he still texted you that night just asking how your day had been and looked forward to your reply, which came about almost 15 minutes later.

And so, a week had passed completely by and it seemed that every day you talked to each other on the subway and during the night when youboth got home. Yuuji spent every day stressed, except for the minutes when you were interacting with him. Stressed because of Megumi's demands regarding the next portfolio. During that week, the thought of calling you for a photo shoot lit up his mind a few times, but what was the chance that you would accept? The two of you had only known each other for less than two weeks, even though he had been watching you for much longer than that.

In fact, Yuuji kept dodging Fushiguro's questions about the portfolio until the deadline was pushed back to the end of the Sunday of the second week he was talking to you. No longer a three-week deadline, Megumi was tired of waiting and having to make up unreasonable excuses to his superiors. And then, on that Thursday night, Itadori found himself tossed in bed sending you a message asking about "if you would, by any chance, agree to be photographed?" and you, looking at the message through the notification bar lying in your own room, wondered what kind of photo shoot that would be. Was it something for his work? Or was it just an excuse for him to spend more time with you? Either way, both options sounded good, you weren't complaining.

[19:04; from: me]

"What kind of pictures would be taken?"

[19:05; from: peachy boy~]

"Actually, there are several possibilities of what kind of photo shoot would be chosen because I haven't told my 'boss' what it would be yet. What type would you most like to do?"

[19:05; from: me]

"I literally only know of photo shoots of that type that models do for magazine, editorial, maybe?"

[19:05; from: peachy boy~]

"So, you want to have a modeling day?"

Y/N couldn't help but let out a nasalized laugh reading that message.

[19:06; from: me]

"More or less the same, is that a good choice?"

[19:06; from: peachy boy~]

"We'll only know if it's a good choice if you come to the photo location on Saturday, is that a good day for you?"

[19:06; from: me]

"Sure, I'm free on Saturday. Where is the address?"

And then Yuuji gave you the address, and just to clear your conscience, you got the address on the Internet. You knew very well the type of false modeling scam, and you definitely wouldn't fall for one. Of course you had built up a relationship of trust with Itadori and perhaps found him handsome and attractive, but your physical and mental integrity came first.

During Friday, Y/N appeared on the subway again wearing a skirt that made Yuuji's shoulders tense painfully the whole way and his eyes fixate on her thighs more than a few times. He wasn't discreet enough and, truth be told, you had fun teasing him that day. It was strangely amusing to see him startle and grow restless every time you uncrossed your legs and crossed them again, but more than that: it was exciting to know that someone desired you to the point of being affected by simple, small actions. Itadori had the impression that it was possible to cut his sexual tension with a knife, and when you said goodbye to him with that bright smile of satisfaction and moved your hips in discreet rolls, he knew that you not only knew how affected he was by your skirts, but you were using it to provoke him without taking responsibility for your actions.

And Yuuji didn't want to admit to himself that having a girl tease him like that had turned him on. That night, he went back to masturbating in an even more intense and messy way than the first time he had touched himself thinking about you.

The next day, already the Saturday that you two were to have your pictures taken, Itadori was a nervous wreck, not exactly because he would be seeing more of you than he had the week before, but because he would be spending hours alone with you in a room. He had told you to enter the building and go to the seventh floor, where a team would be waiting to do your make-up, hair, and clothes. And so you did; twenty minutes before Yuuji arrived at the place after taking the subway, Y/N already had make-up done and was wearing a short white Louis Vuitton dress that had the brand's symbols printed in gold.

— Wow. — Itadori could not contain a surprised expression when he entered the room and glimpsed you. — You look beautiful. — He said, approaching you after greeting all the employees in the room and arranging the accessories used during the photo shoot.

— Thanks to your team. — You replied with a shrug.

— But you look beautiful even without all that make-up and expensive clothes. — It was your turn to get hot cheeks. — Shall we get started? — Your head nodded positively and Yuuji gestured with his forefinger for the other staff members in the room to leave. — Have you posed before? — He was trying to make you look calm.

— Does a picture for the school count? — Y/N asked, feeling her heart flutter as Yuuji looked at her with a serious, glazed look on his face, for the first time you felt intimidated by him and swallowed hard.

— Not too much. — Itadori gestured to the flower-adorned stage where a large golden carpet of the same color as the print on your dress was laid out. — Do you want to try out some poses before we start?

— I'll try out whatever ideas you have in mind. — Yuuji bit his lower lip as he felt his jaw unconsciously tighten, she was definitely teasing him again. And, indeed, you were.

— Stop it. — Itadori's firm voice sent shivers down Y/N's spine.

— With what? — Y/N asked with a puzzled look that was soon replaced by an amused smile, and Yuuji clenched his fists and stared at her. You were a good player, he had to admit.

— Can I be honest? — Itadori gestured with his forefinger to call you toward him, and with slow steps you approached him, who was leaning against the tripe of the professional camera that was usually used on these photo shoot occasions. — I want to fuck that smile of yours off your face. — His hand closed around your jaw and squeezed it tight enough to make you grab his wrist in an attempt to show that it hurt. — But, unfortunately for you, we are in my work place, and I take it very seriously. Now let me see if you are suitable to be my model or not, pose for me. — Yuuji pointed to the large golden carpet and the flower pots.

— Then at least guide me.

— And I will. — Itadori adjusted the camera lens, watching you through it.

You sat on the carpet on your calves and back to Yuuji and looked over one shoulder at him aiming exactly at the middle of the camera lens. He gestured with his index finger in an upward motion, indicating for you to straighten your posture and lift your chin a little, as you took this silent hint it was easy for him to guide you through several other poses. But after about forty minutes, your feet were starting to hurt from the low-heeled shoes the costume designer had instructed you to put on for "the sake of the aesthetics of your outfit" and your eyes were blatantly aware of the indiscreet way Itadori was trying to cover his upper thigh area and the way his shoulders looked increasingly tense.

And then you had the idea to crawl silently towards where he was hiding behind the camera, even though you felt your knees burning because of the friction between the sensitive skin and the cold studio floor. Although he said nothing, Yuuji was intently watching you through that same clear lens. When you stood right in front of him, you put your arms at the sides of your breasts and squeezed them lightly as you leaned forward and let your cleavage show more.

— You look tense, Itadori.

— And you really know how to tease a man, don't you? — He brought one hand to your chin and lifted it slightly to get a better view of your face, and it wasn't long before his index and middle fingers were rubbing against your lips in a silent request for you to open your mouth and let them fill it.

It was a dirty sight, to say the least. His fingers pressing against your tongue as a trickle of saliva escaped over one edge of your lips and your head moved back and forth, as if you were simulating that you were sucking his cock. Of course Itadori was capturing several pictures of that moment, he had been waiting for an opportunity to fuck you for weeks, this was no time to turn back.

— Why don't you spread your beautiful legs for me, uh? — Yuuji turned his face away from the camera, now looking you straight in the eye with a cocky smile growing at the corner of his lips.

— What do I get in return? — Even though you were asking him that, you placed your hands on the icy floor below you, leaned back and spread your legs slowly without breaking eye contact with him.

— What do you want? — Itadori directed the camera at your legs and I briefly clicked the button that took the pictures, the simple sound of having him capture your every move through that lens was managing to make your panties gradually wetter.

— I think you know what I want.

— I do? — Itadori gave a slight, provocative laugh. — I can't know what you want if your pretty mouth doesn't tell me. — Your head fell back and a frustrated sigh escaped yours lips.

— Touch me. — Y/N said quietly and received a disinterested look from Yuuji, and then spoke again. — Please touch me everywhere. Touch my breasts, my legs, my thighs, my waist, my face, my pussy. Everywhere, please. For now, my body is yours. Totally yours. — Your cheeks warmed violently and you could feel your pussy twitching around nothing painfully as soon as you noticed the primitive, longing look on Yuuji's face.

— Such a good girl. — Itadori sighed getting up after taking another series of pictures of herself. — You can be a good cumslut too, hm? — Her eyes darted from his and her thighs pressed against each other instinctively. — Uh hm, legs spread. — Yuuji put his hand on her left thigh and spread her legs again. — Do you want my fingers or my mouth? — He asked rubbing and stroking the sensitive skin of her inner thighs before removing her dress to catch a glimpse of her body.

— Can't I have both?

— No, choose one. — And then your eyes fell on his fingers, and he didn't have to wait for you to respond vocally before he placed them over your panties and stroked the folds of them that wet the bottom of them.

He spent long minutes just teasing you over the fabric of your panties before pulling them aside and initially putting one finger only which was pumped a few times in short, not so deep motions. As you began to force your hips against his palm in search of more friction, Yuuji placed two more fingers inside you, bringing the total to three, and increased their pace as you struggled to move your body for more pleasure. As he watched you squirm in search of your own orgasm, Itadori placed his other hand on your pelvis to hold you in place.

His fingers curved inside you and your legs seemed to automatically give way and melt as little gasps came from deep in your throat and filled the place. That image was too much for Itadori, who leaned over your body to cover yours lips with his in a hasty kiss. You tried your best to return that kiss at the expected intensity, but honestly, your mind was more occupied with feeling Yuuji's fingers widening you now in scissor-like motions.

After breaking the kiss because he realized that you needed to pull in air to breathe, Itadori moved his lips down your neck to leave light sucking and wet licking marks. Neither of you wanted to have to explain to the makeup artist why you needed to cover purple or red marks with makeup. Maybe next time when you both weren't fucking in his work place, Yuuji would leave your body fully marked.

But, when Y/N was literally seconds away from her own orgasm with body temperature extremely high the frown creased in concentration to cum, all his movements stopped. Completely. Instead, the pink haired man pulled himself completely away, took his camera from before with the hand that was not wet with your liquids and took a beautiful picture of your face with your mouth ajar and eyes half-open holding your chin with the fingers that were once inside you. Maybe he was going to put that photo in his wallet to carry with him wherever he went.

— I would never let you cum with anything other than my cock, sweetheart. — Itadori pulled your body up and made you stand with your back to him as he led you to the golden mat where before you were posing for him. — Now, ass up, face down. — And without complaint, you obeyed with an arched back that was slowly caressed from top to bottom by his hands.

Yuuji slowly removed his clothes, leaving them strewn across the studio floor, soon after it was your panties and bra that were found keeping company with his clothes. Before entering you with his dick, Itadori spread your folds only to see your pussy pulsing around nothing.

— So needy. — He spoke more to himself than to you before slapping one side of your ass hard, putting his hands on your waist and pulling your body against his, entering you with a force that would have made you stagger had your torso not been lying fully against the carpet. Yuuji began a torturously slow rhythm until you grunted in frustration as you gripped the mat beneath you for a little support and your mouth whispered a small, timid "More". — What? I can't hear you.

— Faster. — You looked at him over one shoulder and Yuuji raised one of his eyebrows. — Please. — He slowly ran his tongue over his lips before giving you a hard thrust that was followed by several more.

— Like this? — Itadori asked as he leaned over your body and pressed his lips to your ear, biting the earlobe as he continued to thrust against you; soon the only sounds filling the room were not the clicks of the camera, but, rather, the sounds of skin slapping against skin and the moans coming from both you and Yuuji.

Itadori took one of your arms to place it behind your back so that he could leverage your body up and hit deeper spots in the new position. His other hand slid down your abdomen, feeling a small bulge there and a libidinous smile appeared on his lips, and landed on your clit starting to massage it. You proceeded to moan his name until you felt your throat become painfully dry as you struggled to bring your hips down to meet his in the moments he was about to redo the "going" motions.

And even though the sounds inside were loud because of the lewd acts inside the room, her ears and Yuuji's still managed to pick up the sound of heavy footsteps coming from outside. His hand placed itself over your mouth to suppress your moans, but the movements of his cock continued as fast and deep as ever. You even bit down hard on your lower lip, almost hurting him, and when the footsteps moved away from near the hallway where the door to the room was, his hand came off your mouth and finally your moans could be heard again, your orgasm was closer than ever and it wasn't long before you were creaming his dick.

Itadori released your arm that was pinned behind your back by the firm grip of his hand and put that same hand on your waist to hold you firmly in place as he continued to pound against you, even though your body was experiencing intense spasms of pleasure and your lungs felt like they were going to explode because of how fast your breathing was racing. Inevitably he too ended up cumming and painting your gummy walls white.

It took Yuuji a few minutes to withdraw from your insides because of temporary body fatigue intensified by his rapid breathing, but soon he was sitting next to you on the carpet. You could feel his cum dripping down your entrance slowly and maybe, just maybe, that feeling made you a little hornier again, but you preferred to leave Itadori unaware of the power he indirectly had over your body and said:

— Shit, I hate getting sweaty. — You turned away from him to retrieve your bra and panties.

— Sorry, sweetheart, but you were practically begging me to fuck you. — Your cheeks flushed and you frowned.

— It's you who can't control yourself. — Y/N said as she put on her bra.

— And I bet you like me like this, don't you? — Itadori smiled broadly and you suppressed a laugh.

— I will answer only that: maybe.

[thedreamer-of]

How to explain a leap in time

Midge, finally on a break from filming the Gordon Show, finally able to devote herself to something else, Susie had summoned her to the office that morning to resume the talk of the evenings, and to let her know that she had news. 

She arrived at the office quite late 

"What the fuck Midge, if you're not at least 30 minutes late it couldn't be you." 

"Sorry Susie, but every time I take the subway to come here, it always ends up that someone recognizes me, I like to stop and talk to young women who compliment me." 

Susie grins "Look at you, the Gordon Ford notoriety is starting to pay off, before long you'll be more famous than Lenny fucking Bruce." 

Midge gives a slight smile "I'm sure it wouldn't bother him."

 "I'm sure it wouldn't bother the hell out of him about you, that's why his agent called here this morning, he told me that Lenny has been trying to contact you for the last two weeks, but he doesn't have your home number, do you know what he wants from you?" 

Susie stretches her gaze toward Midge, waiting for any reaction, which does not wait to show itself, Midge's eyes wide open, her cheeks beginning to turn pinker than usual 

"Well, I think he wants to talk to me, we haven't talked for a long time, he could have written me a letter." 

Susie lights a cigarette and holds out one "Now you're going to tell me what the heck is going on with Lenny, since he performed at Carnegie Hall you haven't told me about him." 

"I really don't want to talk about it Susie, and then...it's been months." 

"Months in which he was apparently kicking his shit..." 

Midge exhales her cigarette and stops to look at her, standing with her mouth slightly open at that statement

 "W..what? What happened to him?" 

"Oh, I think he wants to talk to you about it in person but, he was in rehab, he's cleaning up his act apparently, he has too many problems with the justice system and he wants custody of his daughter, but I know this through the grapevine, his fucking agent would never tell me....I think you should talk to him, whatever happened, I think it's time to work it out." 

"Nothing happened, I'm not suddenly Lenny's best friend, we just saw each other occasionally." 

"Yes, but you were always talking about him, suddenly you don't do that anymore, I'm not stupid, you two have been chasing each other for months." 

Midge sighs exhaling smoke.

 "Well, we had a discussion after Carnegie Hall, that's all." 

"and...?" 

"And.....ok, he was the one who told me to put my brain together and keep working, okay? And so I did." 

Susie slams a hand on the desk 

"I knew it! You got boned!" 

Midge looks around avoiding his gaze 

"no...that's not true" 

"oh yes that's right, it can't be that I tell you that I'm sick and tired of following what you say and you walk away angry continuing to do your own thing, Lenny Bruce tells you so and the next day you come in here begging me to find a new place for you to perform! It felt weird to me that day, you were weird! I knew something fucking happened, I'm never wrong Miriam, never!" 

Midge put out her cigarette and resigned

 "Yeah, okay, we fucked, all right? But that wasn't why I put the pieces back together Susie...I had to do it simply....well......I realized I said no to the Copa.." 

"Yes you said no to the Copa Miriam...I'm going to have to send a fucking thank you basket to Lenny Bruce, thank God." 

"Well now don't be blatant, there's nothing between Lenny and me, it was just for that night, and it's not for ... I mean we're nothing." 

"Sure, now this is his number, call him, if you don't, he’ll do it because I left him the home number, put your fucking jokes together again and solve your problems, now, another point, Alfie is doing a show tomorrow and he needs an audience, I ask you and your whole family to be there, we promise it won't be Rose who will be on stage, okay?" 

Midge nodded, still looking at the card with Lenny's number in her hands

 "Midge?" 

She looked up 

"Don't worry, if he wants to talk to you, he's not mad at you.....he's really cleaning up." 

Midge nodded and stood up "See you tomorrow Susie." 

__________

 The next day came quickly and the whole Maisel and Weissman clan gathered at Alfie's show, the hall filled up quickly and everyone seemed to be buzzing, Rose seemed quite frightened. 

"Come on, take it easy, Susie promised me that you won't be called on stage mom..." 

Rose nodded 

"Yes, of course, please just in case he calls me to take me by force and make me come down the moment I start talking bad." 

Abe shook her hand

 "I can assure you that that show was one of the best I have ever seen in my life..."

 Joel interjected himself into the discussion

 "What show?"

 "A few months ago Mom was called and started doing a set of mine on stage while she was under hypnosis." 

"oh shit, that must have been hilarious." 

"it was!" 

Moishe intervened

"I would have liked to see him, may I ask to see him again, Rose?" 

 Shirley pressed the argument

"Magicians only have tricks, tell the truth Rose was all set up." 

and as Rose denied it with her head the lights went out and the show began 

 There were explosions, juggling, rabbits disappearing, it came time to call someone on stage, and Alfie spun around a few times before stopping his finger straight at Midge, who swallowed and denied 

"No, I'm sorry." 

Moishe pushed her forward "Come on Midge, you're a bad actress, we'll know if things are fake or real." 

Abe "You are used to speaking on a stage, why are you afraid of a magician?" 

Midge looked around and saw Susie signaling for her to get up; she took a breath and stood up. 

Alfie "Well well well, ladies and gentlemen here is Mrs. Masiel."

 the audience applauded enthusiastically, and Midge with her best smile made her way to the stage 

"Good evening everyone, I promise I won't do a set tonight." 

the audience laughed and Alfie signaled for her to take a seat on the crib at his side, Midge did so and looked at him surprised

 "What's a session at a shrink?"

 Alfie smiled "Your humor is relentless Miriam, have a seat and let's see, I want to see your inner self, I want to find out what's in store for you.... watch me." 

Midge sat on the crib and looked at him "You look very good in that tie." 

Alfie "do not resist Miriam..." 

Midge became serious, a thousand shivers ran through her body, nothing could go wrong, she thought, until she began to see everything black, closed her eyes and collapsed lying on the crib.

 "Can you hear me Midge?" 

"yes, I'm listening." 

"Well, now, meow like a kitten." 

"Meow...Meoww..." 

The audience laughed and applauded, Susie looked interestedly at the scene 

"Now Midge, I want to find out a lot about you, I want the audience to get to know you, I want to see your past, your present and your future..." 

"you can do it..." 

"Well, now you are a child, tell me what you are doing." 

"I'm in the park, I'm with my father, I'm on my bike."

"Are you happy?" 

"Yes, very much, my father will buy me ice cream later, I'm pedaling very hard."

 "be careful Midge." 

"My father is telling me that too........ Auch!" 

Midge touched her arm and began to cry, 

"I fell down...Dad...Dad!" 

Abe in his place was speechless, he remembered that day, and it felt like he was reliving it, Miriam broke her arm that day. 

"Midge stop crying, you are a teenager now..tell me what you want to be when you grow up." 

Midge stops crying and starts smiling 

"my mother and father will be proud of me, I will get married, have three children before I'm 30, have a perfect life, go to college, study Russian literature, and live on the Upper West Side." 

"is that what you really want Midge?" 

Midge became serious "Maybe not...maybe I would like to be independent, I don't want children, I want to think about myself." 

"You would disappoint your parents." 

Midge nodded, silence fell in the room 

"Midge, you are now 29 years old, you are at a performance in a theater." 

Midge smiled, "I'm watching a very funny comedian, it's Lenny Bruce." 

Alfie frowned, he wanted to bring her back to the present, in his subconscious Midge did not want to 

"tell me about this night." 

"He is telling about what it would be like to marry a very very black woman, or a very very very white woman." 

"Are you married Midge?" 

"Oh thank God not anymore."

 the audience laughed 

"Do you think you have let your parents down?"

 "Maybe, maybe not...but I let Lenny and Susie down." 

"Why?" 

"Because...because I don't have to hide anymore, Lenny is right, I don't want to break his heart, I will work harder." 

"Why would you break Lenny Bruce's heart?" 

"I don't know, he didn't tell me. He wants me to work more." 

Alfie looked at Susie, signaled for him to change the subject. 

"Midge, you are now 39 years old, where are you?" 

Midge let out a sigh, "Oh, it's the 70s, there are a lot of people, I'm at a party." 

"Are there any important people?" 

"I don't know, maybe I am important, so many people want to talk to me." 

"What do they tell you?" 

The flashes in Midge's mind became clearer and clearer, she is at a party, drinking martinis, signing autographs, people are complimenting her, she tells of seeing her very elderly parents, she tells of seeing her older children, she sees Susie, they all seem to be happy. 

"Well, you will be successful in ten years Midge, you won't break anyone's heart." 

Midge smiled, "it's a beautiful evening." 

"You are now 60 years old Midge, tell me where you are, what you are doing." 

Midge has flashes in her mind again, sees the shadows move, sees her skin change 

"Oh fuck I've aged" the audience laughs 

"Tell me where you are" 

"It's an event, it seems important, there are no more beautiful clothes like now, people are dressed strangely, I don't know all these people, oh here's Ethan and Ester, they are beautiful, I'm proud of them, they seem proud of me too, they hug me." 

She sees the scene clearly now, she tells of having her two children near her, she tells i see Gordon Ford and his agent in one side of the room, it seems there are several people she knows, she no longer sees Susie, she no longer sees her parents, she is looking around, everyone is applauding her, she has an award in her hands.

 "Everyone is proud of you Midge, you will have a bright future, all the people you love are celebrating you." 

Midge smiles, then a tear falls "not all, the man I love is not here" 

Alfie remains speechless, the audience whispers, Joel in his place feels taken aback and begins to break out in a cold sweat, loosens his tie, the idea of dying young does not appeal to him at all 

"why isn't he with you?" 

"I.. I decided to be rich, happy...." 

"Did you leave him?" 

"He has been dead.... many years ago....I miss him so much, but I'm very angry with him, he promised me he would stop, he didn't, and he died of an overdose..." 

"You should forgive him..focus on yourself." 

"I, now, am happy, but I am all alone."

 Susie waves for him to stop and Alfie claps his hands, the audience is breathless and applauds, Joel turns to his parents who are looking at him very badly 

"I swear I don't do drugs, I swear!!!" 

Abe and Rose look at each other silently realizing she was talking about Lenny 

"She's not talking about you Joel, be quiet." 

Midge snaps to her feet on the crib "What have you done to me, why am I crying?" 

she is completely shocked, Alfie smiles "You will have a stellar career Mrs. Maisel let's give her a round of applause.Thank you all, good night!"

 The audience applauds, Midge goes next to Susie "what did I say? Why is everyone looking at me wrong!" 

Susie runs a hand across her face 

"I swear, fuck, Alfie needs to stop being monstrously good, it's nothing, you said some things, you didn't offend anyone be quiet" 

"What did I say, Susie?" 

"nothing" 

"Susie..." 

"You're fucking in love with Lenny Bruce Midge....you didn't say it but I know it, go fucking call him." 

Midge was speechless and looked at her family members, Joel was wiping off his sweat, Rose ran to hug her, "What the fuck is going on?" wondered Midge in her mother's arms. 

Alfie got off the stage "It's not necessarily going to happen, all you said Midge is what you saw in your past, in your present, in your future....even if you don't remember it. But nobody knows the future, so, I can only tell you that if you keep working as you are doing it will be a good career and you explained how you think it will be....you were crying because you had feelings, feelings matter a lot in this experiment."

 "What did I say Alfie?"

 "nothing. Just....Work, work and keep working." 

Midge remained motionless. She realized that somehow she had mentioned Lenny, perhaps he would not be there in her future? She shuddered and decided she would call him that evening.

END

I’m sorry, I’m not English, but I want share this my “point of view” for this casting calls in 70s-90s.

I hope you enjoying.

Forgive me for every mistake, if you want, you can continue it, you can fix it, improve it!

Be kind, thanks.

[emerald-chaos]

Touchdown

*gif not mine, credit goes to the owner*

I just want to take a moment to say thank you for the love on my last fic! It made my lil ole heart swell to see that peopled enjoyed it enough to leave a like or reblog.

This is just something special I had in my arsenal that I wrote for a friend a few months ago. I touched it up a bit and added a few things here and there. It all started when we were talking about how much we loved when Chris' accent got heavier after he'd been drinking, and well, I couldn't help myself lol. I hope you enjoy the fluff! xoxo

I apologize for any grammatical errors, I tried to proof-read but am also a little exhausted lol.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2844

Warnings: I don't think there's anyway? Mentions of being drunk/drinking alcohol, cursing, and illusions to sexy times, but that's about it.

You hadn’t noticed how furiously your knee was bouncing up and down until the person sitting next to you on the subway got up to move seats once the train squealed to a stop. You sighed and ran your hands down the front of your thighs. Normally being a little late didn’t bother you as much, but tonight you were meeting him.

You flipped your wrist over to check your watch. 8:30pm. In all honesty, it had probably been only thirty seconds later than when you checked it the last time. Another deep sigh escaped from your lips as you started to become hyper aware of the train remaining still at the current stop. What could possibly be taking so long? You knew he wouldn’t care if you were running late, but the time the two of you had together already felt so minuscule. You wanted to capitalize on every second you could.

The train began moving again and you slumped back into your seat, feeling only a small amount of relief. It was becoming painfully apparent that you needed to try and relax. You could feel the sweat building up on your body, the sting on your palms from where your fingernails were pressing in with a vengeance moments ago, and you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Your hand dug around in your purse for a few moments before finding the small case you were looking for. Opening it, you slipped your headphones into your ears and let your head rest on the window behind you as music intertwined with your thoughts.

Once upon a time, you made fun of people who decided to go to grad school. What kind of a clown would spend thousands of MORE dollars and go BACK to school?? Not to mention the stress of the assignments, the due dates - it was not for you...or so you thought.

Now here you are, a regular booboo the fool.

NYU’s graduate program for design and merchandising wasn’t necessarily part of your 5-year plan, but when the opportunity landed in front of you it was difficult to pass up. NYU was a school you had only dreamt of attending back in high school. When you were a senior in high school you were able to tour the campus and fell in love immediately. Hours upon hours were spent researching grants, scholarships, and all sorts of ways to try to make it happen. However, the dream ended as most teenage dreams do - crushed. There was no way you or your parents could afford the loans that it would surely wrack up to attend the out of state university, and there was no way you could ask your parents take on that kind of debt just so you could go to college. UMass was the way to go - close to home and familiar. Not to mention you were able to obtain several scholarships and grants that helped bring down the cost tremendously. Little did you know, boring ole UMass would bring you one of the most important things in your life.

Applying for graduate school wasn’t an easy decision and one you couldn’t really take all the credit for. A smile crept across your face as you reminisced on the night you nervously brought up the idea to your long-term boyfriend.

“I think you should do it,”

“I know, right?” you scoffed, “it’s insane, why would I do something so stup...wait, what? You do?”

“Of course I do. This is something you love and that you’re passionate about. Do you know how many hours of my life were spent listening to you ramble about NYU?” he questioned with a grin.

“It will open up so many doors for you. We can make things work,” a chuckle escaped from those beautiful lips as he saw your dumbfounded expression. He wrapped his fingers around your waist and pulled you close, “What? Did you expect me to forbid it? Cmon, baby, what kind of guy do you take me for?”

You didn’t have a lot of wins in your life, but you did have Chris.

When you got accepted, he took off a week from work to drive you 3 and a half hours south to help get you settled and moved into your temporary new home. The two of you ate a disgusting amount of pizza, moved a ridiculous amount of heavy furniture in the middle of a summer heat wave, and enjoyed each other’s company before the long-distance thing would set in. Chris spent that week encouraging you every step of the way, talking you off the ledge when you were convinced you had made the wrong decision, and made sure to help you christen every possible surface of your new place in the most deliciously sinful way.

You bit your lip slightly at the thought and a warm feeling spread across your face. Chris was one of the most incredible people you had met in this world. Kind, caring, funny, intelligent, passionate, and god was he sexy. The connection the two of you had was scary at first, but now you just couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.

The robotic voice came over the loud-speaker in the subway car and you were rudely ripped back to reality as it pulled into your stop. You hurriedly scooped up your bag and jogged off the train.

It had been a promise between the two of you when you moved that there would be equal effort when it came to visiting and keeping in contact while having good, open communication. Long distance was hard but the two of you were determined to make it work. FaceTime calls, hours upon hours of texting, and even as far as writing the occasional letter back and forth (because your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic and you loved it so much). This weekend was your turn to come home to visit, and of course your last class had to go longer than anticipated. Fuckin’ Tiffany and her stupid ass questions.

The muscles of your calves burned as you kept up your hurried pace, weaving through the crowds of people gathered on sidewalks outside of various clubs and restaurants. It was a weekend night and the Patriots were playing, which meant the city was more alive than usual. New York was it's own beast, but it was a different type of hustle and bustle. Nights like these made your heart ache for home - the thick Massachusetts accents, the rowdy voices of bar patrons arguing about the game, the hugs shared between family members as they parted after dinner, and the faint smell of nicotine and alcohol that hung in the air.

As the neon sign that hung in the pub window came in to view you felt your heart dip down into your stomach. Last weekend’s visit had to be cancelled due to some stuff coming up with Chris’ work and a surprise assignment for you, so you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in 2 weeks. With a deep breath you swung open the door and scanned the crowd for him. He told you that he would be there promptly at 7:15pm for pregame shenanigans with his friends - which actually translated to how many pitchers of beer could they suck down before kick off.

“Aw, come ON! That is such a bullshit call!”

You heard him before you saw him. Of course. A grin spread across your lips as you shook your head. The thought of leaving to avoid secondhand embarrassment crossed your mind briefly before you picked up your feet and made your way through the crowd toward the sound. A room full of people from New England and you would still recognize that voice anywhere.

Everyone else seemed to fade away as you saw the outline of the tall, dark haired man standing at the bar. The slight freckles that spattered the back of his neck, the Brady jersey that he spent WAY too much money customizing, and the signature backward ball cap were ingrained in your subconscious memory. Not to mention if you didn’t recognize his outline or his voice, you would definitely recognize that ass anywhere.

You loved how passionate he got about sports and the way his Boston accent seemed to get thicker with each beer he consumed. Growing up in the area, you wouldn't think the accent would send a tingle down your spine the way it does, but it was different - it was Chris. Not to mention the sparkle in his eye when he would watch his favorite team or the way he would get in to arguments whenever someone tried to say something negative about them. You loved your big, handsome, over-sized toddler man so damn much.

A light tap on his shoulder made him whip around, his slightly opened mouth from his interrupted conversation curved upwards into a wicked grin as he made the connection of who was finally standing in front of him.

“Hey there, handsome. I don’t see a ring on your finger. You single?” You grinned, feeling your entire body fill with warmth as Chris leaned back and grabbed his chest as he erupted in laughter.

“Nah, nah, nah, unfortunately for you I am taken” he responded as he snaked his arms around your waist, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he pulled you into his figure.

“That is too bad,” you tsk'd, running a finger down his toned bicep, “she’s one lucky girl.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” he grinned. He leaned down to meet your lips in a kiss. You sighed into it, allowing your body to mold itself so perfectly into his. The taste of beer on his lips and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating - it was home. You immediately allowed him entrance as you felt his tongue glide along your bottom lip. Your body felt small in his strong grip and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. Normally, this type of bold, public display of affection would make you cringe away but at this point you were lost in Chris that you had absolutely no shame. Each time the two of you embraced had always felt like the first. Your heart still fluttered and your knees still got weak, like you were a 16 year old being kissed for the first time.

In the middle of your reunion moment, however, something happened in the game that made the entire bar erupt in boo’s and curses. Chris lifted his lips from yours to look over his shoulder and inspect what he had missed. You laughed and shook your head as you pushed him back towards his friends and took a seat in the bar stool he had been standing behind initially. His large hands found a natural place on your shoulders. While his eyes remained glued on the TV he began applying a moderate amount of pressure to your neck and shoulders. You didn’t realize how much your body craved that touch, his touch, until you immediately melted back into him.

The bartender slid a beer in front of you with a wink and you mouthed your thanks. You felt a twinge in your heart as you looked around, taking in the atmosphere of the bar. This was a typical weekend night for the two of you whenever you were living together. Football, drinks, pub food, and friends. If it wasn’t this pub it was your living room, just a couple blocks away. You didn’t even mind that it was your first night back and you weren’t alone, spending it immediately wrapped up in your satin sheets. The atmosphere, the people - it was so warm and familiar that you really wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Plus, being wrapped up together in the sheets was sure to follow.

“I missed you,” hummed a pair of lips as they placed a kiss on the shell of your ear. A shiver shot down your spine at the sensation of his warm breath fanning over your neck. You reached up a hand and connected it to the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too,” you replied, turning your head to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

His arms changed position as he wrapped them in front of your shoulders and crossed them, resting his chin on the top of your head. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed his forearms as you nursed your beer and placed your focus onto the game for the first time tonight.

The laughter seemed to escape from your chest naturally and effortlessly the entire night, as it always had a habit of doing when Chris was around. The camaraderie between him and his buddies during a game was something you’d grown to enjoy over the years. Chris’ competitive nature and the way his jaw clenched when something wasn’t going the way he wanted was always kinda...hot. All of his friends were huge assholes, but in the best way. It was always entertaining to hear them jab at each other and do what they could to rile someone up. They were the life of every party you had ever attended and they had a way of making a boring night a lot more interesting.

Thankfully (for the integrity of the bar) the Pats won the game with a surprise touchdown in the last 30 seconds of the game. Chris, being the guy he is, bought a final round for his friends and a nearby group they had been going back and forth with all night. You couldn’t help but laugh as he drunkenly leaned across the counter and slurred his order to the bartender.

“I need a round for m’friends and for these assholes over here who thought Tom Brady was anything but a winner!” the group started yelling in protest and he simply waved them off and started sliding beers down the bar.

The group eventually moved to a bigger round top so everyone could shoot the shit and banter about the outcome of the game. You were tucked into Chris’ side, hands intertwined as he was passionately discussing the importance of Brady’s legacy with a stranger who made the mistake of stopping to talk to him. Your eyes followed the motion of your thumb as it traced small circles onto the back of his. Your other hand under your chin, holding up the weight of your head as your exhaustion started to catch up with you. Chris, although slightly drunk, picked up on your body language and raised your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Alright, fellas,” he said as he stood up from his seat, pulling you up with him, “the lady and I are gonna call it a night. See you boys next weekend”.

“Chris, we don’t have to go,” you began to protest as he tucked his jacket around your shoulders.

“Mm, ‘course we do,” he replied with a soft smile, “you’re so tired, baby. I can see it in those beautiful eyes”.

You could feel your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you rolled your eyes at his attempt at laying it on thick. After what felt like a proper 10 minute goodbye session, the group said their final goodbyes, hugs included, and you walked out of the pub hand in hand.

The walk home was filled with the sounds of cars passing by and conversation of what each other had missed in the week prior. Small talk typically felt like such a chore, but with Chris every conversation came naturally. Even when he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, he would listen intently and ask all the questions as if it was the most interesting conversation in the world.

The lock on the apartment door clicked as you pushed it open and entered. You smiled as you stopped into the middle of the living room, taking in the home you missed so dearly. A soft tapping of toenails against the hardwood made your heart soar as you met the eyes of your sweet pup, Dodger. A squeal left your lips as you squatted down to give love to the sweet boy. Chris always made fun of you when you came home, saying that you always seemed to miss Dodger more than you did him and I mean, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that statement.

Once again lost in your own world, you didn’t even notice Chris leaned up against the wall watching you with a smile.

“Oh my god,” you gushed, standing up, “do you like...like me or something?”

Chris grinned as he crossed the room and caught your belt loop with his finger, pulling you into him slowly.

“Yeah,” his voice had dropped down an octave, “you could say that”.

“Mm,” your tongue swiped across your lower lip and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “care to show me how much?”

The look in his eyes made your core burn. The tension building between you two became too much to handle as you crashed your lips into his. The kisses were messy and you could feel the sense of urgency between you two. His beard scratched against the column of your throat with a delicious burn as he left wet kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck. Chris’ hands found their way back into the ass pockets of your jeans as he started walking you back towards the direction of the bedroom.

Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and you felt very sorry for your neighbors. It had been a long time, but Chris always had a way of welcoming you home.

[jiminrings]

can we get a fratboy Jimin and good girl oc with pinning from both sides 👀 ahhhh thank u in advance love ur writing!!

cherry king

drabble week: day four

drabble week masterlist

pairing: fratboy!jimin x goody two-shoes!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "y-you uhm, you-? y'know, you like... doing that? is that why it's your nickname?"

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

“next!”

great!! the line’s moving :D

that’s only like the 87th time jimin has heard the word next and it makes him wonder how much more would it take him to bring him to the front

(it’s actually only been 14 times and jimin might just be a self-admitted impatient bitch!!!)

he understands that yes, it’s ten in the evening!!! and reasonably-large stores/pharmacies like these can have less staff at the time compared to ten in the morning

sure, checkout machines and cashier lanes could be broken down!! or they could just not be open at all

jimin gets that alright, maybe the self-checkout machines are close at this time of the night because it is ten in the evening

what’s not clicking in his mind, however is that at the exact time that he comes here

as in the EXACT time that he’s here (!!!) — there happens to be dozens of people in a store at ten in the evening, and there happens to be a grand total of one (1) cashier lane

atleast random store music would be entertaining :((( all he hears are the beeps of a scanner and the chatter of groups of people who came here

jimin was eavesdropping on some guys in front of him and he wAS invested but lmao turns they were just discussing the plot of die hard or any testosterone-jacked movie like it

he’s also tried looking at the smaller middle-aged woman’s phone in front of him who’s scrolling through her facebook feed, but quickly decides against continuing it

because what if u could see his face and when she turns it off, she’d see a college guy deeply-invested in the baloney article she was reading about how subway sandwiches are the work of the devil

so uh yeah he’s just looking everywhere besides the front, back, and the sides of him and in all angles basically

he’s,,,,, aimlessly scrolling through his instagram feed he’s already scrolled through tHREE times and his explore’s page a little too dry

it’s a good thing that jimin’s entirely sure he’s the nosiest person out of this line and no one else is trying to figure him out

might be wrong though

“cherry king?”

hold the fuck on

jimin’s eyes widen, head snapping up and clueless to the fact that he doesn’t look discreet at all, and his head-cocking’s the most movement he’s done the whole time in this store

WHO’S SAYING HIS NICKNAME?????

it can’t be a coincidence either because as far as he’s concerned, there isn’t anything named cherry king that’s being sold here

there is literally NO other plausible scenario happening here besides the fact that someone who knows him is in the store!!!!

his gaze falls to the person behind him, brows knitted in confusion until it clicks

oh

that was you?

“jimin? huh, it really is you. i thought i was losing my mind for a second.”

“y/n?”

okay maybe hE’S the one who’s losing his mind here

he knows you!! you’re the smart girl in his year who’s known for being pristine and stuff!! you’re like the good-est girl he’s ever known and heard of

.... quick question lads is that weird to know someone by

“you could’ve just called me by my name, y’know,” jimin chuckles heartily, still a little dumbfounded to see you here but he’s grateful for the interaction nonetheless

you look casual today?? like you still look like yourself but everyone else would think it’s an out-of-body experience to see you out of your pretty dresses and monochromatic get-ups

it’s you..,.. in a hoodie three sizes larger than your size with your pristine shoes traded in for socked-feet wearing slides

jimin thinks that you look like grace under pressure

“i wasn’t sure,” you smile right back and it’s the first time he realizes that there’s glasses atop your nosebridge, softening your image more from the usual composed look you carried

“how were you sure enough to say my nickname out-loud though?”

jimin questions you, bringing light to how he’s wearing a plain white shirt and is looking as relaxed as ever with how he’s dressed — his hair long enough to be put into a messy sprout of a bun

you clear your throat, the amusement bubbling in your scratchy throat

“you have yourself as your lockscreen, jimin.”

oh my gOD

he winces when you say it, eyes screwing shut in embarrassment that he whines in pain with how direct you put it

“n-no way — fuck you respectfully, y/n. i-i’m not- i’m changing it right now!!”

does he look the vainest person alive rn

the way he has a mini freakout entertains you to your core, giggles unable to be suppressed as he finds the latest-taken picture he has of dogs that he comes across with

that’s 10/10 an experience he doesn’t want to repeat again

“it’s okay. i won’t tell anyone.”

he hears you reassure and he believes you, a flustered blush on his cheek still as he coughs to make up for a diversion topic he couldn’t think of

frankly, you’re getting bored too and jimin’s the only form of entertainment you have because using your phone atm would be too disorienting

“what are you doing here, by the way?”

your head tilts in query and he’s relieved that you address something else, not being relieved seconds later when he realizes his answer

“just a little supply run for our frat. we weren’t supposed to run out of things for three more days, so this is just a lil emergency haul for awhile.”

you nod in understanding, glancing down at his basket and uh

uhm 1/4 of the space is literally occupied by boxes of condoms

....

......

jimin’s confused to why you turn silent, thinking that he must’ve gotten boring to continue talking to until he follows your gaze to his basket

NO WAY?!]>|>]%%[%]%]

“i-it’s not l-like that!!!” he crouches and immediately gets the food and the bottles of shampoo and conditioner to bury the condoms in the bottom of the pile, attractively getting more attention from you who’s ready to let it go

“i-it’s not — it’s ours — n-no!! t-they just gave me a list and i just put it because it’s on the list b-but like it wasn’t my-...”

how many more times will the universe fuck jimin up in front of the person he has a lil happy crush on

you only smile meekly, tilting your head and he thinks this is the part where you tell him how much of a douche he is

"y-you uhm, you-? y'know, you like... doing that? is that why it's your nickname?"

:O

“t-that?” jimin clarified albeit confused, thinking back to his nickname as he tries to rapidly connect the dots to not look like a fool

cherry king? that?? what do you-

WAIT WHAT

“nO!! o-of course not!!”

he almost shrieks and his voice sounds ultimately defensive, shaking his head no

why does he look so frantic

“hey, hey, i believe you! — calm down, jimin. you don’t have to explain anything to me.”

whew

fuck

but he argues that it iS the truth though!!!

but why won’t you just ask him why he’s called cherry king though >:(

you’re already content with the silence after the conversation but he isn’t, still wanting more

is it so bad that he wants redemption D:

“how about you? what are you doing here?”

you don’t answer instantly and it’s because you’re nudging jimin to continually walk, the cashier looking much more visible now as he’s nearer in line

he takes a look at the handful of things that’s in your basket —

electrolytes, hot pockets, soup, cup noodles and fever patches...?

“oh. i think i’m running a fever.”

what???

what are you doing here aLONE if you think you’re running a fever???

he’s not gonna lie about the fact that you don’t look too good

what if you pass out and no one’s there for you and all the graveyard shift employees do is put a wet floor sign around your figure???

“y/n?? what are you doing here alone then?? are you oUT of your mind??”

the panic in jimin’s voice is clear as day and you’re a little startled, instead responding to tapping him on the shoulder to point that he’s already the one on the cashier

what he does is grab your basket before he is, putting it in front of the conveyor belt because he couldn’t even wait for it to roll out

“i said i think i’m running a fever.”

jimin stops from simultaneously rummaging for his rewards card and putting his items on the counter to unceremoniously drop the box of condoms down jUST to put his hand on your forehead

“you are.”

you surely don’t think low of jimin but you can’t help be surprised either at his concern for you when this is the only time you’ve had a conversation with him!!!

“you drove here?” he asks in seriousness, sending you a look while waiting for the total amount

“walked. the airconditioning makes me even more sick,” you answer with no fuss because even thinking about car fresheners while you’re sporting a fever makes you want to gag. “let me-...”

jimin already pays for both your items in cash, getting them bagged separately as he’s not gonna take no for an answer for what he’s gonna propose next

“then i’ll keep the windows down. i’ll drive you back to your dorm.”

he grabs both your bags in one hand and uses the other to beckon you over, holding you still because it’s dark out and a fever vision wouldn’t exactly help

it’s only when he straps you in and (true to his word) puts the windows down and starts his car that you start asking

“why are you doing this for me?”

why IS he doing this for you??

jimin thinks about his answer in a second

“would you do the same for me?”

well

if you were in front of him at a godforsaken line, had yourself as your lockscreen, realize that jimin’s behind you with a fever and is by himself in a store at 10 in the evening

“of course i would.”

jimin smiles, steering away from his parking spot

“then i would too.”

( ♡ )

maybe you’re thinking of jimin

no wait you’re dEFINITELY thinking of jimin

you’re much better now and your fever’s already subsided enough for you to go back to class!!!

the whole interaction with him was three days ago and maybe your head is just full of him at this point

“are you sure you’re okay to handle this by yourself??”

jimin worries when he drops your bag to your hands, briefly coming inside your dorm to set it down

“mhmm. i’ll just sleep it out.”

“i think if you’re missing a couple of steps.”

you snort as his paranoid features, waving him off. “i’ll eat. then go to the bathroom. and then sleep.”

okay good enough

“what if this just-“ jimin trails off, his expansive mind suddenly running as he points to your chest, “stops????”

cute

“i have a smart watch.”

“would you put me as one of the emergency contacts? please?”

he’s making you take down his number without malice because jeez he’s gENUINELY worried!!!!

it may not always be great sharing a house with his frat brothers, but he knows that if he has a fever, atleast half of them would dote over him and you have atleast one who would go into hysterics!!! it’e a full package!!

“i’ll be okay, jimin. i’ll call you when i need someone to hand me my puke bucket.”

“please do. i’m not even kidding. get better now because i miss your dresses.”

o_O

uhm

“n-no i meant your usual style!! wait, not that there’s anything wrong w-with your style right now. i-i was-...”

“yeah. i miss them too. now go home, jimin.”

“you sure?”

u never really had the impulse to invite a guy to go inside your place but maybe now you do

“mhmm. drive safe.”

okay

:-)

“good night, y/n. call me whenever.”

classes were a bit rough today because you’re still easing yourself on getting back to the groove of things, but it was tolerable!!!

you’re getting your key out of your backpack when a lock clicks open a couple doors away from you, the hinge noisily squeaking

it’s jimin who leaves it, with seri who’s the actual occupant of the dorm leaning on the doorframe

“y/n—!”

he squeaks the moment his eyes land on you

your hand automatically waves, the same meek smile for him to see

“jimin.”

( ♡ )

the last interaction you had with him is still on jimin’s mind, a whole week later

it’s been bothering him recently that you know what it looks like the last time around!!!! but he could swear up and down that it wasn’t

he just feels this great urge to explain even if you haven’t asked

“oh. so we have to move out for the time-being?”

jimin clarifies with namjoon, the head of the frat, and he’s met with a solemn nod

it makes sense!!!

the house got checked today and there were mULTIPLE fire hazards!!! and it needs to be fumigated anyway under new campus protocol so it indeed makes sense

practically everyone's going home because it’s a long weekend anyway because of a holiday

and he’s not sure if he wants to take the same route.

“hi.”

jimin squeaks the moment you open your door, surprise evident on your face but not shock to the point you’d close the door on him

“jimin?”

okay maybe he’s gonna go straight to explaining

“frat house needed to be closed because of some complications, and it wouldn’t be open to us for another three days. most of the guys are coming home,” jimin clears his throat, his head down while he shyly scratches the back of his ear, “i have one, but i’m not sure if i wanna.”

oh

it’s that problem

it takes one, two seconds before it all registers in your head, nodding surely

“you can take my bed. i’ll take the couch, it’s a pull-out anyways.”

you open the door for him widely and the only thing you ask if he’s had dinner and if he’d like some

god you’re really throwing him in a loop here

it’s after a batch of your cooking that jimin’s only ache is why you were the way that you were, half-dazed the whole time he’s met you properly

“why do you never ask me?”

“hmm?” you hum as you dry the dishes that you’ve used, wanting to get it done as soon as possible so your full attention would be on him

no, actually. jimin WANTS you to pry!!

he wants you to worm your way into his privacy and into the confines of his mind

but it seems like you’ve already did without even asking.

“ask me why i’m called the cherry king.”

you tilt your head in confusion, that time playing in your head of why jimin looked confused when you didn’t continue to ask further

maybe you’ll indulge him

“why are you called the cherry king?”

jimin smiles, leaning to your couch with his arms relaxed

“we did secret santa for christmas at our frat house. taehyung thought it would be nice if he pranked me by gifting me a jar full of cherries, but i thought that was his actual gift, and i liked it to the point that i finished it in one sitting.”

tHAT’S ACTUALLY PRETTY ENDEARING

cute, even

“ask me why i came out of seri’s apartment last week.”

oh that’s.,.,. that’s a bit higher in level compared to nicknames

“why did you come out of seri’s apartment last week?”

“because seri’s the ex-girlfriend of hoseok, my frat brother, and he wanted me to return all her stuff because he doesn’t want to be reminded of his cheating ex.”

well that was definitely weighted

jimin plays with the hem of his shirt, the words tumbling out of his mouth

“ask me why i love you.”

why do you wHAT

your mouth drops open, the new position you took on the other end of the couch taking an impact on him

“w-why do you love me?”

jimin’s a lot of things but he’s not drunk tonight

he doesn’t know why he’s letting his feelings slip either, but it’s the bottomless need that he feels when he’s around you

“i feel wanted. i feel needed.”

he smiles cheerfully even if he feels shy dropping this on you all of a sudden

“not sure if you want me nor need me, but i feel welcome with you if that makes sense.”

:)

“you just make me feel loved, i guess.”

jimin looks at you for the first time since he’s opened his mouth, an equally fond look on your face

you said no words but what jimin receives is a gentle tug, your hand on the side of his face until he’s leaning on your shoulder

“i wanna know what's up there.”

he points a finger to your temple, an amused lilt to his tone, “surprise me.”

it’s an unfolding of things that was weeks in the making but months in developing, the distant glances leading you to recognize jimin in the shop in the first place

“i feel the exact same with you,” you answer honestly and it makes his laugh from his chest, his cheeks warm and his heart content

and you just wanna suspend yourselves in this moment forever

“oh! and if i were to lose my virginity to anyone at the moment, it'd be you!!”

...

....

jimin swats at your shoulder to which you only giggle at, a toothy smile on display as this is the warmest he’s ever felt

“i wasn’t kidding!!!”

you yawn when you defend yourself, predicting that you’d fall asleep sooner or later on the couch, but for the time-being, you just stroke jimin’s hair to soothe the both of you

jimin is now the furthest thing from sleepy

"what? you told me to surprise you!!"