#line for getting stepped on by her starts here

[inseobts]

Stone Cold Feelings

zoro x fem!reader

boa hancock’s love-love beam turns everyone to stone, except you and zoro (and luffy). and so boa makes her mission to understand why zoro didn't turn to stone and shamelessly flirts with him (or at least she pretends to)…

a/n: as I said in the middle of the fanfic I don't really know if that's how boa's powers work, but let's pretend it is.

words count: 2.7k

tags: fluff, boa hancock spoilers, jealousy, humor, fluff, love confession

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The Thousand Sunny stops near a small island, and Luffy jumps off like he owns the place. You and the rest of the crew follow behind, walking into the jungle. It doesn’t take long before she shows up.

Boa Hancock.

Tall, beautiful, dramatic, she appears like some goddess with her sisters and Kuja warriors behind her.

Luffy grins “Boa! You’re here!”

She gasps, spins, and poses “Luffy!” Her voice is full of love and sparkles. She turns to the rest of you “As for the rest… Mero Mero Mellow!”

A pink heart flies from her hand. It bursts in the air. Everyone freezes.

Sanji turns into stone right away, heart eyes still frozen on his face.

Brook’s skull goes stiff. Even Franky and Usopp are statues now.

You blink.

Zoro groans, rubbing his head.

Luffy just laughs like it’s a party “She always does that.”

You look around.

Only you, Zoro, and Luffy are still human.

“Huh…” you mutter “Why am I not a statue?”

Zoro glances at you. His cheeks turn pink for half a second before he looks away.

You don’t notice. You’re busy poking Robin’s stone face “They’ll be fine, right?”

Boa stares “What is this…?” She steps closer, eyes wide “Another one… unaffected? Two?”

She’s pointing at Zoro now. Her eyes sparkle “How… unusual.”

Luffy munches on a piece of meat “That’s Zoro. He’s kinda weird.”

Zoro shrugs “Guess it just didn’t work on me.”

You wave your hand “Me neither?”

Boa ignores you completely “So strong… so cold… so handsome!” she walks up to Zoro and leans in “Why didn’t my beam work on you?”

Zoro frowns “I don’t know. I just… didn’t care?”

You laugh “He’s too dumb to fall for it.”

Zoro glares “Hey. Then you're also dumb?”

Boa twirls a lock of hair, looking dramatic “He resists me… even though I am beautiful…” She gasps “Is this what true love is?!”

You stare “Wait, what?”

She waves her hand “Never mind. That was just a greeting.” She casually un-stones everyone like nothing happened “Let’s all… eat!”

Boa starts following Zoro around for the rest of the day. She sends hearts, pouts, winks, and flirty lines. Zoro dodges every time, annoyed.

An hour later, you're all sitting around a huge meal. Boa's palace chefs brought out a feast. Luffy’s halfway into his sixth plate. Everyone else eats and chats like normal.

Everyone except Boa.

Boa sits right next to Zoro. Too close.

She laughs too loudly at things he doesn’t say. She leans forward, pressing her arm against his.

Zoro keeps moving slightly away.

You try to focus on your food, but your chopsticks keep missing your mouth.

“Zoro,” Boa says sweetly “You are… very quiet. Strong. Mysterious.”

Zoro grunts “Trying to eat.”

She giggles “Do you always ignore beautiful women?”

You stab your food harder than needed.

She didn’t even try with you. You didn’t turn to stone either. You didn’t even blink at her dumb pose. But she’s all over him.

It’s annoying. Really annoying.

You clear your throat “So… uh, Boa? You know I didn’t turn into a statue either.”

She blinks, not looking at you “And?”

You raise an eyebrow “So why aren’t you trying so hard with me?”

The table gets quiet for a beat.

Boa lifts her chin, dramatic again “Because you’re not him.”

You scoff “Rude.”

Usopp tilts his head “Wait, are you mad at it?”

You freeze “What? No! I just...”

Zoro’s watching you now. He doesn’t say anything, but his eye is on you.

You look away fast.

Boa leans in closer to Zoro again “Just look at me once. Really look. My powers work best like that.”

Zoro shifts uncomfortably “No thanks. I'm eating.”

She sighs, dreamily “Why do you resist me? I’m the most beautiful woman in the world…”

She bats her lashes “Why don’t you turn into a statue for me? Look at me.”

Zoro finally drops his chopsticks and sigh reeeeeally deeply “Because I like her.”

The table stops moving.

Luffy chokes on meat.

Sanji drops his fork.

Nami spits her drink.

You freeze.

Zoro points at you “I like her.”

You stare at him “You… what?”

Boa is stunned “WHAT?!”

Zoro just shrugs, like he didn’t just break the table’s collective brain “Yeah. That’s why.”

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.

Everyone's frozen.

Not from a beam this time. Just from shock.

Zoro sits back down and picks up his food again like he didn’t just say that in front of everyone.

You’re still blinking like your brain hasn’t processed it yet.

Boa Hancock recovers first. She stands dramatically, arms crossed, hair somehow blowing even though there’s no wind.

“Hmph,” she says, voice full of pride “Who cares? Even married people have turned to stone for me.”

The crew collectively “Huh?!”

Boa flips her hair “I attract everyone—no matter age, gender, or sexuality. That’s the power of my beauty.”

She gives you a side-eye “Only my Luffy has resisted me… until now.”

She’s not angry. Not even sad. More like… surprised. Curious. Mildly impressed.

But mostly, she’s just trying to make Luffy jealous with all this.

Luffy, of course, is too busy battling a giant piece of meat “Zoro likes Y/N? Cool.”

Boa’s eye twitches “Luffy, are you even listening?”

He grins, sauce on his face “Yeah. Love stuff’s fun.”

You cover your face with both hands “Can we not do this right now?”

“Too late!” Nami says with a wicked grin.

Usopp’s already leaned in “So wait, you didn’t turn to stone either!” He points at you dramatically “Why not?”

“I don’t know!” you shout “Guess I’m just… not into her like that!”

“Are you into Zoro like that?” Brook asks way too cheerfully.

Sanji bangs his head on the table “Of course not! Zoro doesn’t deserve her!”

“Shut up, curly-brow.”

You blink “CAN WE PLEASE MOVE ON—”

“Wait wait wait,” Chopper jumps up, eyes sparkling “This could be science! You both resisted her beam. That’s rare!”

Franky’s nodding “It’s super rare. Boa’s beam doesn’t care who you are. If you feel even the tiniest thing, boom—stone.”

Nami hums “So if you didn’t freeze… does that mean you didn’t feel anything? Like anything at all?”

She’s looking at you now.

Everyone is.

Your face heats up “I… don’t know! I mean she’s pretty and all but like—not in a heart-throbbing way?!”

You glance at Zoro.

He looks away at the trees like they’re fascinating.

Boa rolls her eyes “I’m not hurt, if that’s what you’re wondering. I never even cared about you two...”

She turns away, arms folded “I’ll find another way to make Luffy jealous…”

Luffy looks at her, food in his mouth “Jealous of what?”

Boa now twirls toward him “Don't worry! Here, you can have my meal too.”

The crew is still whispering.

About you. About Zoro. About the “I like her” thing.

You whisper to Zoro, “Can we disappear into the forest and never come back?”

Zoro mutters, “Only if you lead the way.”

He’s trying to act cool. But you see the tips of his ears are red. And yeah… yours probably are too.

You haven’t looked Zoro in the eye since lunch.

You also haven’t looked at anyone in the eyes since lunch.

Because apparently, "I like her" is enough to set the entire crew on a mission.

A mission to ruin your life.

Robin is smiling in that quiet, knowing way that makes you nervous.

Nami keeps giving you looks.

Usopp has created five theories about "how long Zoro's been in love".

Sanji hasn't stopped sulking.

Chopper made you tea and whispered, “It’s okay, feelings are confusing.”

Brook’s already writing a song.

Luffy? His dumb ass just asked if you and Zoro are married now.

...Twice...

You and Zoro are sitting on opposite sides of the campfire.

Not awkward at all.

Totally normal.

Great.

“So,” Nami says, too casually, “you like her, huh?”

Zoro grunts “Didn’t I already say that?”

“Yeah, but why?”

Zoro pauses “Why not?”

You want to throw yourself into the fire.

Nami’s eyes slide to you “What about you, Y/N? Got anything to say?”

You fidget with your cup “Nope. Not a thing. Totally normal day. Nice weather.”

“Don’t avoid the question” Robin adds with a gentle smile.

You fake a cough “I mean… people say things in the heat of the moment, right?”

Zoro finally speaks “It wasn’t heat of the moment.”

You turn your head so fast you almost pull a muscle “What?”

He shrugs “I just had the answer to her questions.”

Silence.

Even the fire seems quieter now.

Zoro looks at you, serious “I like you. I’m not good at saying it. I just do.”

Your heart does something. Not the stone beam thing. Worse. It flips, spins, and slams into your ribs like a cannonball. And suddenly, you’re mad again. Not at him. At… yourself. At everything.

“So why didn’t you say anything before?”

He blinks “I don't know.”

You stare at your tea.

Another silence.

The crew senses the moment and tries to fake being quiet, but the whole vibe is “pretending not to listen while obviously listening”.

Zoro doesn’t push. He just leans back on one elbow, looking up at the sky.

“You don’t have to say anything about it.” he says, voice low.

You think about it all night.

You roll over in your bedroll, eyes wide open.

Ugh. Feelings.

It’s been two days.

Two. Whole. Days.

And they still won’t shut up.

You can’t eat in peace.

You can’t walk in peace.

You can’t even breathe without someone sliding up next to you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Usopp whispers, dramatic as ever “Tell me the truth. You weren’t turned to stone because…?”

Brook leans over “Is it because you’re secretly blind?”

Sanji dramatically clutches his chest “Or is it because your heart only has room for true love… but that can't be Zoro?”

Chopper hops on your shoulder “Was it science? Wait—feelings science?”

Even Franky joins in “Come on, it’d be super romantic!”

You nearly trip over your own feet “Can’t I have one quiet minute?”

Nami strolls up “Nope. Not until you say it.”

Robin smiles like she knows everything. Probably does “We’re only curious, Y/N.”

“Obsessed” you mutter.

“Potato, potahto” Nami shrugs.

Zoro walks beside you, calm like always, but you know he hears every word.

He doesn’t say anything. He hasn’t asked once. That’s what makes it worse. He gave you time. He backed off.

But the crew?

The crew is relentless.

You reach your limit during breakfast on the third day.

You’ve had enough teasing. Enough nudging.

Sanji makes heart-shaped pancakes and slides you one with “S + (your initial)” syrup-drawn on top telling you "Because that's can't be a Z".

Chopper actually made you a quiz.

Luffy just goes, “You're married, just say it.” for like the 148th time.

You snap.

“FINE!”

The whole table goes dead quiet.

You slam your cup down “I wasn’t turned into stone because I wasn’t looking at Boa in the first place!” (a/n: I honestly don't know if that's how it works but let's pretend it is)

Everyone “HUH?!”

Your face is red now. Your hands are shaking a little.

“I was looking at Zoro when she did the beam, okay?! I wasn’t thinking about her! I didn’t even notice her stupid pose or whatever! I— I like him! That’s why it didn’t work!”

Absolute silence.

Then they explode.

“CALLED IT!” Usopp screams.

Nami slaps the table “I knew it!”

Brook throws his hands up “Aaah young love!”

Chopper’s eyes are sparkles “You were looking at him the whole time?”

Franky dabs away a tear “That’s super love.”

You want to dig a hole and live there now. Forever.

Zoro, who’s been totally silent, finally speaks.

“…Seriously?”

You glare at your plate “Yes, seriously.”

“…You were looking at me?”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

There’s a pause.

Then his voice, quieter “I'm happy.”

Your head shoots up.

His eyes meet yours.

No teasing. No smirk. Just Zoro, being honest.

The crew screams.

Luffy claps like he’s watching a fireworks show.

Sanji is on the ground “Why himmmm—”

Nami’s already passing out mugs “Cheers to mutual pining resolved!”

Zoro walks over, calm as ever. He leans next to your seat, looking at you like you’re not surrounded by chaos.

“I guess we’re even now” he says, voice low.

You stare at him.

Something bubbles in your chest.

Not nerves. Not panic. You don't know what.

You stand up.

He blinks “What—?”

You take his hand.

Rough, warm, still holding a rice ball.

You don’t even think.

You just tug.

Zoro lets you.

No questions. No resistance. He just follows, letting you pull him past the fire, past the table, past a stunned and now absolutely feral crew.

“WOOOO—”

“GOOOO Y/N—”

“SWORD DATE! SWORD DATE!”

You keep walking. Out of sight, into the quiet.

Then you stop.

Let go of his hand.

Turn around. And now your brain catches up.

Oh. Oh no.

You really just did that.

You stare at him. He stares at you.

Zoro tilts his head “So… uh.”

You cut in, panicking “I didn’t plan this.”

He blinks “No?”

“No!”

You throw your hands up “I just got overwhelmed! And I didn’t wanna talk about feelings in front of Luffy and Sanji and Nami and Usopp and Brook and—”

Zoro nods slowly “Got it.”

“And now I brought you out here and I have no idea what to say.”

He’s quiet for a second. Then “You already said it back there.”

You freeze.

Zoro steps closer. Not too close. Just enough.

“You like me.”

You glance up at him “...Yeah.”

“And I like you.”

You nod, swallowing “Yeah.”

Silence again.

A breeze rustles the leaves.

Zoro exhales “Okay. So… now what?”

You blink “I thought you’d know.”

He scratches the back of his neck “I’m great at fighting. Not so great at this.”

You laugh before you can stop yourself. It breaks the tension, just a little.

“I guess we figure it out” you say softly.

He looks at you “Together?”

You smile “Yeah. Together.”

Zoro steps forward, hand brushing yours, not grabbing, just offering.

You take it.

This time, slower.

The next morning, you stretch your arms and walk out to the clearing.

Zoro’s already there. Training, of course.

Sweat glistens on his forehead. His bandana is around his arm today, not on his head. He’s focused, steady. Every swing has weight. Control. Grace.

You watch for a second too long.

Then he notices you “You wanna join?”

You blink “Join… what? Your intense ‘sword vs gravity’ fight?”

He smirks “Sparring. Not that fancy.”

You step forward “Fine. But if I fall flat on my face, that’s your fault.”

“Deal.”

You grab a wooden practice sword and face him.

He waits for you to make the first move. You swing. He blocks.

It starts slow. Testing pace. Testing rhythm.

Then faster.

Back and forth.

The thud of wood against wood, your feet shifting on the dirt, breath picking up.

He dodges a swing and smirks “You’re not bad.”

“Don’t go easy on me” you shoot back.

He spins, blocks you again “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

At some point, you’re laughing.

Not because it’s funny, just because it feels good. Like something stuck inside your chest is finally shaking loose.

Zoro lunges. You duck.

You step in close, too close, and suddenly you're chest-to-chest.

Frozen.

Your hands are still gripping the sword.

His hand is on your arm to steady you. And neither of you are moving.

You’re both breathing hard.

His face is close. Closer than it’s ever been.

His eyes flick down to your lips for half a second.

Then back to your eyes.

“Should we—” you whisper.

He kisses you.

It’s not rushed. Not clumsy. It’s careful. Solid. Just like him. Like he thought about it before, maybe a hundred times.

Maybe he was just waiting for the right second. And now here it is.

Your sword clatters to the ground. You don’t care.

His hand slides behind your back. Yours finds his shoulder.

The world quiets.

When you pull away he’s still close, looking at you like you’re the only thing he sees.

You whisper, “That was…”

He raises a brow “Bad?”

You smile “No. That was good.”

He grins “Wanna do it again?”

You kiss him this time.

No swords. No teasing. Just you and him.

Soft. Steady. Real.

And this is how your romance story started.

[wosospacegirl]

Capi Mami - Alexia Putellas x barcelona femini

Summary: Alexia swears she’s not the team mom… and yet she’s the one confiscating phones, doling out granola bars, and keeping this locker room from imploding.

Word count: 1.5k

This is part of my 1k commemoration blurb! <3

a/n: a single mama who works two jobs

Masterlist

..

The locker room was a mess. Water bottles were scattered across the floor, shoes were everywhere, and a few jerseys had been tossed carelessly on the benches.

The younger girls were in full gossip mode, laughing and talking over each other, completely oblivious to the chaos they had created.

Vicky was sitting on one of the benches, animatedly chatting about some TikTok challenge, while Salma and Jana were having a loud conversation about the training session they had just finished.

Pina’s laughter echoed through the room as Esmee said something dry and hilarious.

Y/n and Sydney were livestreaming on Instagram–very much against team rules–talking about their training routine and casually throwing shade at the referee from their last match.

Marta walked in first. Her eyes widened as she surveyed the scene. She shook her head with a sigh and muttered, “What is this, girls?”

She took one step and nearly tripped over a bag lying in the middle of the floor.

“Okay,” Marta said angrily, lifting the bag into the air. “Whose bag is this—and why do I have a bunch of stickers glued on my locker?”

“Do you like it?” Vicky asked brightly, the only one acknowledging Marta’s presence.

“I hate it,” Marta replied flatly. “Take it off.”

Vicky rolled her eyes and continued chatting. The others kept pretending Marta didn’t exist.

“You might want to clean this up before Alexia gets here,” Marta warned, but the girls barely looked up.

Marta rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath before walking out.

She walked down the hall to find Alexia stretching on a bench, prepping for another round of training. Marta couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Tus nenas están causando problemas,” [Your girls are causing problems], she said with a teasing smile.

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “Qué?” [what?]

"They’re making a mess in the locker room again. And I’m pretty sure I saw Y/n going live on Instagram ranting about the ref being bought."

Alexia sighed, her expression shifting from confused to fondly exasperated. "You know what they’re like," she muttered, standing up. "I’ll handle them, and then I’m confiscating Y/n’s phone."

The moment Alexia stepped into the locker room, her gaze swept across the chaos. Water bottles, jerseys, shin guards, and random clothes covered the floor. Not a single head turned.

Alexia didn’t speak at first. 

She simply stood there in the doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable. After a long pause, her voice finally cut through the room.

"Nenas, qué es esto?" [Girls, what is this?]

Y/n jumped to her feet, face paling at the tone. The room fell silent in an instant.

Vicky, Salma, and Pina all sat up straighter. Y/n very discreetly hid her phone behind her back while nudging Sydney to sit properly and kick a rogue boot under the bench.

“Hi, Ale!” Vicky greeted sweetly, putting on her most innocent baby voice.

“Mi reina!” Pina chimed in, springing up and reaching for a hug.

Alexia sidestepped her without missing a beat. “What is all of this?” she asked, gesturing at the chaos with one unimpressed sweep of her hand.

“Nothing! We were just… talking,” Jana said quickly, voice shrinking. “It, uh… got a little out of hand?”

Alexia’s eyes scanned the room like a laser. Her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line.

“Is this how we treat a shared space?” she asked. Her voice didn’t rise, but the warning in it was sharp.

“No,” they chorused, voices barely above a whisper.

“Is the locker room where we throw our stuff around like toddlers?”

“No.”

“Should I start labelling your bottles and jerseys like you’re in daycare? Or can we act like professionals?”

“We can act like professionals,” they muttered in unison, chastened.

Alexia took one slow step forward. The shift in the room was immediate–every breath held, every eye on her.

“I don’t like doing this,” she said quietly, the calm in her voice somehow worse than yelling. “But this? This is not okay. I expect better from all of you.”

Y/n shifted awkwardly, guilt written all over her face. “Are you mad at us?”

“I’m not mad,” Alexia said, her pause deliberate. “I’m disappointed.”

The words hit harder than anything else could have. The silence that followed was thick.

“We’re sorry, Capi,” Y/n said, her head ducked. “We didn’t mean to mess up. We just got carried away.”

Alexia’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “You should’ve known better. I trust you girls. Don’t make me regret that.”

“We’re really sorry, Alexia,” Salma added quickly, voice sincere.

“Sorry isn’t enough,” Alexia replied, crossing her arms. “I better not hear another complaint. Understood?”

“Yes,” they all said, truly meaning it this time.

“Clean it up,” Alexia ordered, turning to walk out. “And next time? Think before you act.”

As soon as the door shut behind Alexia, Sydney let out a dramatic exhale. “I really thought she was gonna make us run laps again.”

“My feet still hurt from last time,” Y/n groaned, flopping back onto the bench.

“Obviously,” Pina snorted. “It was yesterday, genius.”

“We are never doing this again,” Vicky said, voice solemn like she was making a blood pact.

“Nope,” Jana chimed in, hand raised like she was swearing an oath. “From now on, we will clean up before she walks in.”

“We should actually stop throwing stuff the second we get here,” Salma added thoughtfully.

Y/n suddenly sat up, panic dawning on her face. “Wait. Do you think she saw me go live?”

“Yes,” everyone said in eerie unison.

Y/n groaned and buried her face in her hands. “I’m so screwed.”

“You two are a disaster,” Jana muttered, nudging Sydney.

“We are not,” Sydney defended. “The world just needed to know how rigged that ref was.”

“You need to stop,” Esmee said, already starting to clean up the bottles.

Sydney shot her a look. “You’re just mad you didn’t join the live.”

“No,” Esmee said dryly. “I just don’t enjoy being yelled at. Call me crazy.”

Their chatter continued as they cleaned, a little more subdued now. Just outside, Alexia leaned against the wall, listening. 

A soft smile tugged at her lips.

Y/n leaned back on the bench, phone in hand, muttering just loud enough for the others to hear, “One day, I swear, I’m gonna figure out how to get away with this. Maybe I’ll just block the older girls on Instagram and on Twitter–problem solved.”

A few of the girls snorted in laughter.

But then…

A voice, calm and deadly precise, cut through the moment.

“You think I’m gonna let that happen?”

Silence.

Alexia had stepped into the room like a shadow. Everyone froze. Y/n especially.

"Phone. Now."  Her palm was out, her stance unyielding.

Y/n clutched her phone like a lifeline. “Ale… come on. Please.”

Alexia didn’t budge. “Now. You’ll get it back after training–if you survive it.”

A dramatic sigh escaped Y/n, but she reluctantly handed it over, placing it in Alexia’s open palm like a guilty child surrendering contraband.

Alexia smirked, tucking it safely into her jacket pocket. “You really think I don’t hear everything? I’m always watching.”

As she turned and walked off, Vicky whispered, “She’s got ears like a hawk.”

“No,” Jana said with a grin, “she’s got mom-radar.”

From across the room, Alexia called out, “I heard that, too.”

As soon as she left, Vicky whispered, "Okay… maybe we should behave."

"Maybe," Jana said. "But I doubt it’ll last."

After cleaning everything, the door opened again. Alexia stepped back in and surveyed the room.

"Well done," she said. "Now get ready. Training’s going to be tough."

As they moved, Alexia pulled a small bag from her backpack and began tossing sandwiches and granola bars at them.

“Eat,” she ordered, hands on her hips. “No one’s stepping onto that pitch with an empty stomach.”

“But we already had lunch,” Y/n mumbled, catching hers mid-air.

Alexia raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“You’re serious?” Vicky asked, halfway through peeling the wrapper.

“Sí,” Alexia replied, voice firm but laced with affection. “You need it. You’ve all been dragging your feet since drills this morning.”

Y/n took a bite and sighed. “Okay, you’re right. I was kind of sluggish.”

“You always try to avoid eating before training,” Jana chimed in, smirking. “No more excuses.”

“I’m eating, aren’t I?” Y/n grumbled around a mouthful.

Alexia gave her a knowing smile. “Good. You need the energy to keep up with the rest of them.”

“Okay, mamí,” Y/n teased, raising an eyebrow.

Alexia paused mid-step. “What did you just say?”

“Mamí,” Y/n repeated, grinning now. “You act like a mom. You scold us, you take our phones, you pack our snacks. You’re literally parenting us.”

“I am not,” Alexia scoffed.

“You are,” Vicky said through a mouthful of granola. “This is full-on mom behaviour.”

“Keep calling me that and I’ll ground you,” Alexia warned, but her lips twitched, threatening a smile.

“See?!” Y/n pointed dramatically. “Mom threat.”

Alexia rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, she watched them finish the bars and sandwiches, making sure every last bite was gone.

Once the wrappers were tossed and silence settled back in, she straightened, captain mode back on.

“Alright. Let’s go. Hydrate, boots on, and meet me in five. We’ve got work to do.”

She turned, but not before one last glance over her shoulder at the girls–her girls. 

Their chaos, their charm, their energy. They might not be hers, not really, but her love for them was unmistakable.

Strict? Always.

Soft? Only when they weren’t looking.

..

a/n: Just really wanted to write something platonic haha

[leo-in-the-pitt]

Look Out For Her

Summary: 4 years later and your almost done with residency. But it feels like your relationship with Jack may be coming to an end too. That is until you’re hurt and he has to come to your rescue, that he reveals his true feelings for you.

Warnings: Established relationship, implied age gap, strong language, sexual assault, mentions of alcohol, possessiveness, mostly fluff

This is possibly a Chapter 1!

———————————————————————

You were half way through your 4th and final year of ER residency. Somehow still learning the ropes of being cheif resident. It wasn’t easy to have the respect of your fellow co-residents and interns when you were in a relationship with Dr. Jack Abbott, an ER attending but, he made it worth it. Most of the time at least.

Getting to this point in your relationship wasn’t always easy in anyway. What started as hook ups, turned into arguements during every shift you worked together until you cut it off. But when 3rd year came around, you guys got close again, he let you in and you let him in.

A year and a half. In your mind, this was the start of forever. At least that’s what you thought.

For the past month, Abbotts been distant and you didn’t understand why. Picking up shifts on the days you were both off, date nights were becoming a rarity, bailing on nights out with your friends.

You had a week off coming up and wanted to see if you could make it up to him, for whatever you did even though you didn’t even know where to begin.

You moved in with him 6 months into the relationship. Everyone told you it was quick but, it felt like the right decision at the time.

You woke up early while he was still at work to go pick up breakfast from his favorite spot downtown. Got home made your famous homemade peanut butter cookies that he loved. Had his favorite movies lined up, ready to play. Even put on lingerie under your clothes, ready for whatever he wanted.

You heard keys in the door and were excited for him to see what was waiting for him.

There he was. Silver curls. Black scrubs. Go-bag over one shoulder. You could look at him forever.

“There’s my favorite guy.” You ran up to him to give him a hg and kiss.

He hugged you back but, swerved his head ever so slightly when you went in to kiss him.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Just had a long night. Not really in the mood for anything.”

“I planned out quite the morning for us.” You smiled at him.

“Think I’m just gonna go hop in the shower then head to bed for a little bit.” He started to walk away.

You quickly turned around to him. “Okay, no, what is your problem? Did I do something? Cause for the past month you’ve been acting cold. Blowing me off ever chance you get.”

He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to face you. He looked pissed. You’d only ever seen him angry like that once during a stupid fight you guys had at the beginning of the relationship.

“You left your laptop open.”

“Okay and? I’m I supposed to know what that means?”

“Were you going to tell me that you have a bunch of interviews for attending jobs at other hospitals? Or were you just going to tell me you were leaving one day?”

“Jack everyone goes to multiple interviews. You literally did the same when you were in my position.”

“One of those is across the country.”, he paused, “Were you gonna pack up and fly over there without telling me?”

“Thought maybe you could come with me and we could make a trip out of it actually.”

He put his head in his hands. “Do you want to leave?” His voice cracked.

“What? Why would I want to leave you Jack? I literally have an interview with Robby in 2 weeks for a spot here. I’m just trying to see what else is out there too.”

“But you have everything you could need right here! Why do you wanna give it all up!He raised his voice at you.”

You took a step back.

“Don’t yell at me.” You felt your breathing become faster, chest heavy.

“Why would you not tell me? This is something we should be talking about together. This isn’t just about you.”

“And it’s not just about you. It’s my future Jack. My career we’re talking about.” You said sternly.

“So where do I fit into that future then?”

You didn’t know how to answer. “You know I love you.”

“I sense a but coming here.”

You took a deep breath. “But there’s an emergency medicine research fellowship in California. They’re really interested in me Jack. Like really interested.”

“Sounds like you made up your mind already.” He walked away and went into the bedroom.

“Jack please. I didn’t say yes to anything yet. I still have to go over there and meet with them. I might end up hating it.”

He was throwing clothes into his go-bag. You grabbed his arm and he swiftly pulled away.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to leave? Where are you even going?”

He held both hands up in the air. “I just need some air.”

“When are you coming back?”

“I don’t know. I- I just can’t do this with you right now.”

“So if not now, then when. Jack. Come on we talked about this. Never leave mad at each other.”

“I’m not mad.”, he looked down at you, “Just disappointed.”

He grabbed his bag and walked out of the room. You felt the tears start to run down your face.

“Jack please.” You begged.

You heard him pick his keys up off the table and door slam closed behind him.

You broke. Tears streaming down your face. You sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands. Your reached into your pocket for your phone and tried to call him.

Once. Twice. Three times with no answer. Straight to voicemail.

You laid in bed, crying. Eyes already swelling. After went felt like an eternity, you fell asleep.

You woke to the sound of a text message.

Please be Jack.

It wasn’t. Just Langdon.

He knew you were planning Jacks favorites for the morning and wanted to know how it went. You typed out as much of what just happened as you could. He called immediately.

He could hear you crying again.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

“Frank, I- I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where he went. He turned his location off. He won’t answer my calls or texts. I just wanna know that he’s okay.” You voice broke as you tried to get the words out.

“Hey look I’m just gonna come over okay?” Gimme like 20 minutes, I’ll be right there. Please just hold on.”

“Okay.” He hung up.

You got out of bed and threw on one of Jacks sweaters. Beers of the Burgh. Him and Robby went together every year. You hated beer so you never went, just let them have their special guy time.

You went into the bathroom and saw how bloodshot your eyes had become. Splashed some water on your face and went into the living room.

Almost exactly 20 minutes later. A knock on your front door. Langdon.

You opened the door.

“Hey kid.” He always called you could since the first day you met even though he was only 4 years older.

Tears again. You almost fell to the floor. He caught you and lifted you up.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I got you.”

He walked you into the kitchen, had you sit at one of the bar stools and went to get you a glass of water. He knew his way around. Afterall he did help you move in and came over often for movie nights when Jack was at work.

You spent the next hour trying to explain what happened. Talking. Crying. He listened to it all.

“Have you tried to call him again?”

You sniffled. “No, if he doesn’t want to talk to me, I can’t make him.”

“He has to come back eventually you know?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You wiped your eyes onto your sleeve.

“Hey, me and some of the others from work were gonna go out later for some drinks downtown. Probably do some bar hopping. Maybe you should come? Get your mind off of things for a little bit?”

“What if he comes back and I’m not here?”

“Maybe that’d be for the best. Think you both need some time to cool off.”

You agreed. “Yeah sure why the hell not. He never wants to come out with me anyway.”

“Alright, go get ready then.”

“It’s early.”

“Its 5:30 and you definitely take forever to get ready. Plus you gotta unpuff your eyes.”

You quickly turned to the clock on the kitchen wall. Shit, how long were you asleep for? How long was he gone for?

“Okay alright then. Are you gonna stay here?”

“Yeah I’ll just watch some tv or something while you get ready. I’ll drive us.”

You went into the bedroom, scavenging the closet for something to wear. Red dress. Jack picked it out one day when you two were at the mall a couple months ago. You hadn’t worn it yet. You were waiting until he finally decided to go out-out with you. Which obviously never came.

You grabbed the dress, his favorite matching bra and pantie set and went to shower. There was a part of you that wanted him to come home to see you. But at the same time you just wanted to forget about all that happened just a few hours earlier.

Out the shower. Quickly dried your hair. Threw some light curls in it. Jacks favorite hairstyle on you. You didn’t like makeup but, put some mascara and lipgloss on anyway.

You walked into the bedroom to grab your little black heels. And walked back out into the kitchen.

Langdon was laying on your couch on his phone.

“Ugh, told you you were gonna take forever. It’s time to go, everyone’s of there way to the first place.” He sat up and turned around. “Damn kid, you clean up nice.”

“Well thanks Frank.” You gave him a side eye.

“You hoping to run into him tonight or something?”

“I- don’t know, it’s just that he picked this outfit out so, I don’t know maybe I guess.”

It’s almost as if Jack knew you were talking about him. Keys jingled in the door. It’s him.

He opened the door to see you standing there in the dress he picked out.

You both stared at each other while Langdon looked back and forth, unsure if he should leave you two alone.

“You look good. Really good.” He scanned you top to bottom.

Your heart was about to jump out of your chest. “Thanks.”

You turned towards Langdon, “We gotta go.”

“Yeah sure.” He jumped up and walked towards the door. He stopped in front of Jack.

“Gimme a second with her.”

Langdon shook his head and walked passed Jack and out into the hallway.

“Can we talk?”

“Now’s clearly not the time.” You walked into the bedroom, grabbed his sweater off the bed and walked out. “I have places to be.”

“Where exactly are you going anyway?”

“Why does it matter to you? I didn’t know where you were all damn day.”

“I was at the park. The park I asked you to be my girlfriend in.”

“You just sat there in your scrubs all day?”

He looked down at his clothes. “I’m actually going back in tonight for a shift.”

You scoffed. “Typical. Anything to avoid me huh?”

“I’m here now, aren’t I? I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m clearly not Jack. Please just let me through.”

“Just be safe. Okay?” He stepped out of the doorway and out of your way.

“Always.” And you left.

Langdon was waiting in the hall for you. You walked right passed him.

“Hey.” He stopped Langdon. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“I shouldn’t have to.” And with that you were both on your way.

At the first bar you met up with other coworkers. Nurses, coresidents, EMTs. And apparently more people were on the way.

“Didn’t realize how many people were coming tonight?” You yelled over the music.

“Yeah me either.” Shrugged Langdon.

After the first 2 drinks and tequila shot, you realized you had ate all day. And you can’t handle your liquor.

You sat alone at the bar sipping water, looking down at your phone lock screen. A picture of you and Jack at a concert together, happy. He wasn’t into live music but, if it were for you, he’d listen to anything.

“Boyfriend couldn’t make it?”said the bartender nodding down at your phone.

“Yeah something like that.”

“That’s his problem. You look good.”

You smiled. Langdon came up behind you.

“Hey we’re heading across the street. Heard it’s 90s music night over there.”

You got up and went with the group. Thought you’d feel better by now. That you’d be able to distract yourself by talking to everyone, drinking, and listening to the music while dancing. It wasn’t working well.

Here you had 2 more drinks. 2 more shots.

Onto the next bar.

By this time, well over a a dozen people were apart of the group.

Fourth bar. More drinks. More shots. And you could feel it. But the more you drank the more you thought about him.

You went to sit at the bar alone. You checked you phone to see that he turned his location back on. The hospital, of course.

One the nurses came up to you. “Come on girl! Let’s go dance!”

“Yeah I’ll be right there.”

No texts or calls from him.

You took a deep breath and another sip of water. As you got up, you saw a guy watching you from the corner of the room. He winked and nodded his head at you. You politely smiled and went to your friends.

No matter what, Jack wouldn’t leave your mind.

There he was. The guy watching you across the room.

“Hey baby, looking good tonight.”

“Haha, thanks.” You were uncomfortable with how close he was to your face but didn’t want any problems.

“You got a man?”

“Yeah I do a actually.”

He scanned the room. “Guess he’s not here tonight huh?”

“He couldn’t make it. Working.”

“Well that’s his loss.”

Langdon spotted you across the dance floor.

“Hey, you gotta go see Donnie playing darts. It’s crazy!”

“Yeah sure.” You turned to the stranger and half waved goodbye.

“See you later.” He winked at you.

“Who the hell was that?”

“No idea.”

“Come on, stay close.”

“What about the darts?”

“They don’t even have darts here.”

It was now 1AM. You head pounding. Each room spinning. One last bar. One more drink. You lost count.

“Come on, one more tequila shot girl!”

“Yeah sure whatever.” You took it hoping the alcohol would down the feelings out of you.

Everyone was dancing, having a good time. You just wanted to be in Jacks arms, in your bed, in the apartment you had shared for over a year.

You looked over at a couple of your friends. “I’ll be right back.” Those who heard you nodded their heads.

You went outside. Alone. Still carrying Jakcs sweater, you decided to put it on. Not zipping it up but, just wrapping it around your body. You stood up against the wall on the side of the bar. Out of view.

Took out your phone. Stared. And finally dialed Jack’s number. No answer. Try one more time. Nothing.

But the thrid time you left a voicemail.

“Jack, it’s me. Um you probably knew that already, you know caller ID and everything. B-but,” your words one slipping into another, “I think I just want to say I’m sorry. I should’ve talked to you about leaving. I’m stupid I know. But I love you. I always have. I- always will. I don’t want to leave you. Ever. You’re it for me Jack Abbott. I don’t want anyone else, or anything else. You’re the person I’ve been looking for my whole life. You make me a better person. I want you forever. Please just pick up the god damn phone. I need to hear your voice,”

You heard the bar door open behind you. The music rushed out into the street before becoming quiet again.

The stranger. Back again.

“Hey you get lost out here?”

“Jack I gotta go, I’ll see you soon.” You hung up.

“Not lost, just needed some air.”

“Yeah, yeah. It can get so hot in there.” He stepped closer to your body. “You know when I said you looked good tonight, baby I meant it.” He licked his lips.

“Thanks again.” You tried to step around him to go back inside.

He blocked you.

“Where you rushing off to? Not like your man is here to take care of you.”

“I gotta get back to my friends.”

“It’s okay I can take care of you out here.” He wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him.

Your body now pressed against his. Heart pounding in your ears. He grabbed your waist with his other had before reaching down to cup your ass.

You tried to pull away. But his grip was tight. He pushed you against the cold brick wall, pinning you body with his. One hand on your waist. The other holding your arm against the wall. Scraping the skin on the back of your arm right off.

He leaned down into your ear. “Come on sweetheart. I can treat you better then he can.” His hand sliding to meet the bottom of that red dress. “I’ll show you want a real man looks like.” You felt his cold hand on your thigh.

This can’t be happening. Not like this. Not right in front of the bar. Where is everybody? Langdon? Oh god, where’s Jack?

All the thoughts ran through your head.

He kissed your cheek. You flinched.

“Damn sweetheart, wanna play hard to get I see. I can play along with that.”

He let go of your arm. He started to reach for your neck.

You pushed him. Hard. He stumbled back.

“You dumb bitch. You’re gonna have to pay for that.” He took a step towards you.

Pain. Throbbing pain was the next thing you remembered. Then blood. Yours? Or his?

Both.

You punched him. Right in the face.

You used to kickbox not long ago. Guess you still remember how to swing.

“Fucking bitch.”

You screamed. Loud. Loud enough for the security guards to hear you inside the bar. They came running around the corner.

Blood was pouring out of his crooked nose. Blood dripping down your arm from your knuckles.

One security guard grabbed him. “Guess you met you match huh? Come on, got some cops that are gonna love your ass.” He took him away.

“You alright? Come on let’s get you inside and get that cleaned up.” He walked you inside.

———————————————————————

Jack got your voicemail. Almost right after you hung up. He tried to call you back. No answer.

So he called Langdon, who was still inside the bar.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Langdon was drunk.

“Dude I can smell the alcohol on your breath from here.”

“Yeah well you should be here! It’s a great time!”

“Where is she?”

“You gotta be more specific broo”

“My girlfriend. You know the one you’re supposed to be looking out for. She called me. Left a voicemail actually. Sounded like she was talking to someone. Then hung up. Where is she?”

Langdon scanned the room. “Uh I don’t know man.”

“Can you go find her please? She sounded drunk , almost as drunk as you. I’m worried. She doesn’t handle her liquor well.”

“Yeah man, I gotchu, I’ll go find her.”

“Alright call me when you find her. I wanna talk to her.”

“Aye aye captain.”

And Langdon hung up.

He walked around the room. Asking anyone and everyone if they had seen you. No one knew where you went.

That was until you walked back in with security.

———————————————————————

Everyone immediately saw you.

Red dress with blood down the side. Blood running down your forearm. Knuckles bruised and swollen already.

You heard a murmur of “what the fucks” and “oh shits”

Langdon came running over almost immediately sobering him up seeing you like that.

“What the fuck happened?!” He reached to grab your blooded fist.

You winced in pain. Mascara running down you face. “The guy from the other bar.” Yo could barely get the words out.

He looked over your shoulder and saw the guy standing outside with security and blood running down his face.

“Oh I’m gonna go kick his ass!” He tried to get passed you.

“No, no, Langdon, stop, the police are already coming.”

“I don’t give a fuck, I’m gonna break his nose some more.”

“Please, just go get me some ice.”

“What’d he do to you?”

“Ice, Frank, please.”

He went up to the bar for your ice. You could see the police lights shining through the window.

3 police cars. 6 police officers.

You told everyone to stay inside while you went to talk to them. Langdon begged to go with you so you gave in and let him.

At this point, the guy was already sitting in the back of one of their cars. Hands cuffed behind his back.

You told them exactly what happened as you held the ice pack against your knuckles.

Langdons eyes teared up hearing what happened. He was supposed to protect you.

“You wanna press charges?” said one of the officers.

“Of fucking course she does.” Said Langdon.

“I need to hear it from her.”

You shook your head yes.

“You can either come to the station now. Or you can come in the morning.”

“What she needs is to go to the hospital. The hand is broken. Definitely in multiple places.”

“No, it’s not, I’m fine.”

“I’m literally a doctor, how are you gonna tell me it’s not broken? Have you not looked at your own hand?”

You took the ice off. Your hand was basically twice its original size. Fuck. He was right.

“Well that guy wants to go to the hospital too. Can’t take y’all to the same place so where you wanna go so we can send him somewhere else?”

“Can you take me to Pittsburgh Trauma?”

“Yeah let’s go.” You gestured to the police cruiser and opened up the door for you.

“Can I come with?” Langdon asked him.

“Absolutely not. Get a ride or call an Uber. You’re drunk. Drive yourself and I’ll have you arrested.”

“I’ll be right there, okay? I promise you.”

He went back inside the bar.

———————————————————————

All you could think about on the ride there was Jack. How he had to see you like this.

You finally checked your cellphone.

5 unread texts messages. 7 missed phone calls. And one voicemail. All from him.

You presssed play.

“Hey, it’s me. I know you probably don’t wanna hear from me right now and even if you do it’s just the alcohol talking. But look, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way that I did. I guess I’m just scared. I don’t want you to go. I can’t afford to lose you. Of course I want you to pursue whatever career opportunities you want, but I don’t think I can live without you. You make me want to be a better man. You make everyone around here better. I love you. I want to spend my life with you. I want to marry you. Have a family with you. All here, all in Pittsburgh. I want whatever you’ll give me. I- I just need to to stay. Please. Look I gotta get back to work but call me back when you get this okay? Love you babygirl. See you soon.”

You didn’t know if your tears where from the throbbing pain shooting down your arm or from his words.

You got to the ambulance bay. You swung your legs out of the car. Feet killing you from the heels. The officer helped you out of the car and walked you inside barefoot.

One of your coresidents spotted you.

“What the fuck? Do I even want to know what happened here?”

“Get Jack, please.” You said practically begging.

You waited for what felt like an eternity from him to find Jack in a patients room.

“This better be important. I was in the middle of something.” Jack snapped his off into the trash.

He looked up and his eyes caught yours.

“What the fu-“ he ran over to you.

He grabbed your arm as you winced and pulled back in pain.

“Babygirl what happened to you?” He leaned down to look into your eyes.

You broke. Immediately tears poured down your face.

“Come here, come here. I got you, you’re alright. No one gonna hurt you. You’re safe with me here.”

He held you in his arms while caressing your hair. The smell of alcohol of your breath obvious. “Come on, let’s go.” He wrapped his arm around you and walked you into a room and sat you down on the bed.

Your coresident ran to get all the supplies needed to clean and bandage you up.

“Get the hell out. I got this. Close the door of your way out.”

It was now just the two of you. Alone.

“Babygirl I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there with you. I shouldn’t have let you go.”

He started to clean the now dry blood off of you.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Do you wanna tell me how this happened?”

So you told him all of it. Every single detail.

“I’m gonna find that motherfucker, I swear to god. I’m gonna break his fucking kneecaps.”

“Jack, calm down.”

“No, he hurt you. I’m gonna hurt him.”

“His nose is already broken Jack.”

“I don’t give a fuck. He’s gonna get way worse than that from me.”

“Jack.” He kept cleaning your hand.

“Jack look at me.”

He slowly lifted his head until his eyes met yours.

“I’m gonna press charges. Whichever ones I can. I want them all.”

There was a knock of the door. One of the favorite night shift nurses.

“Hey sweetie brought you a fresh pair of scrubs and our finest grippy socks. X-rays ready for you. Just come out to the hall when your ready darling.”

“Thank you.”

“You need me to help you?”

“I can get dressed myself. You have other patients anyway.”

“Those patients don’t matter to me. You’re the only one I care about here.”

“Can I just have a minute alone Jack?”

He left you to change.you looked at your fist for the first time since you got to the hospital. Looked slightly better without all the blood.

You went into the hall and the nurse walked you down to xray as Jack waited by your room. Thank god the pain meds kicked in with the alcohol because you could barely open your hand.

As you walked back, you heard yelling.

“You were supposed to be fucking watching her! Not getting filthy fucking drunk and letting her wonder off alone!” Jack was throwing his hands in the air.

Langdon stepped up to his face. “I shouldn’t have to watch her for you. You’re here fucking boyfriend. You should’ve been there yourself. Or better yet, she should’ve wanted to stay at home with you!”

“You think you can judge my relationship? Last time I checked I’m not the one in the middle of a divorce and custody battle.”

“Jack!” You yelled down the hall. “Don’t.”

You walked over and pushed him into your room.

“Frank, I don’t blame you for any of this. I need you to know that.”

“No, he’s right, I should’ve been keeping my eyes on you. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“But it did happen. I’m okay. Or at least I will be. I’m not a kid, you don’t need to keep me on a leash. I shouldn’t have gone out there alone. No ones here to blame except the man who did this okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” You hugged him and walked back into your room.

Jack was pacing back and forth.

“I’m okay Jack. You can calm down.”

Another knock on the door. “X-rays are up.”

He walked over to the computer to open them up.

“What do you see?”

“Boxers fracture.” You pointed to the obvious gap between your bones.

“Gotta go get ortho to come set it in place.”

“Can you just do it?”

“I’ve hurt you enough tonight.”

He left and came back with an ortho resident who reset your hand and put it in a brace. “Gonna need another xray in 3 weeks to see how it’s healing. In the meantime just rest, ice and elevate. You got a lot of swelling so take it easy please.”

Just you and Jack alone again.

“Jack can we talk about what you said?”

“Which part?”

“On the phone. Your voicemail.”

He knew exactly which part you were referring to but, wanted you to say it.

“The part where I said I want you to stay?”

You shook your head no.

“Then which part?”

“The part where you said you that you want to marry me. Have kids with me. Build a life with me here.”

“I meant it all. Every last part.”

“I’m not leaving. I’m going to cancel all the other interviews. I wanna stay here. With you.”

“You don’t need to do that for me. This is your career we’re talking about here. You can’t give up these opportunities. They won’t come around again.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for us. Jack you’re more important than some job. This all means a lot to me but, it won’t mean anything if I can’t come home to you every night for the rest of my life.”

He leaned in a kissed you passionately. He pulled away and looked softly into your eyes.

“So Jack Abbott wants to marry me huh?” You said jokingly.

“Don’t worry I’m not gonna pull out a ring right now or anything. You gotta finish your residency first babygirl.”

“Well now I’ll be expecting a ring the day after I’m done.”

“Guess I better start working on that. But for now let’s get you and that broken hand home.”

“Your shift isn’t over for another 3 hours?”

“They’re gonna cover for me. Gotta get my lady home.”

The drive home was pretty silent. He just put your favorite Radiohead album on for you. He helped you out of his truck and lead you upstairs.

He helped you pick out your favorite pajamas and you went to take another shower. Forgot you had been wearing his favorite matching set under the dress when you left. Thought the night would be ending differently for you two.

Of course you were glad that you were on good terms now. But when he put his hand on your back as you were leaving the hospital, you flinched. And he definitely noticed.

Once the booze started to wear off, you started to realize the extent of what happening to you tonight.

You cried again in the shower. Used the hot water to wash away your tears for you. Put some drops in your eyes to hide the redness.

You took a deep breath before walking out to him in the kitchen. He was holding up the breakfast bagel you bought him that morning.

“Didn’t even see that you bought these.”

“You could always just eat it now if you want. Think I’m just gonna head to bed if that’s alright.”

He open the fridge and put the bagel back inside. “Yeah let’s go. I’m just gonna jump in the shower real quick.”

You climbed into bed. Curled yourself into a ball, facing away from where he would be laying. You were holding back tears. You wanted to be strong for him. There’s was already so much going on in your lives. The last thing he needed was to be worried about you more than he already was.

You head the bathroom door open and his footsteps coming closer. You closed you eyes and preteded to be asleep.

He peeked over to see you. Eyes closed. You felt as he crawled quietly into the bed to face you.

“Hey I know you’re not sleeping. We’ve been in the same bed for over a year now. You never fall asleep that fast.”

You let out a cry.

“Hey, come here. What’s wrong?” He put his hand on your back and you squirmed away as fast as you possibly could.

“I-I’m sorry”, you whimpered out.

“Can you look at me?”

You wiped the tears flowing down your cheek and rolled over to face him.

“You wanna talk about it yet?” He knew there was more going through your mind.

You shook your head. “I need you to hold me. Bu-but I’m scared for you to touch me. It’s not you, I- I don’t know what wrong with me right now. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. None of this is your fault, okay?”

You sat up, “Can you just put your arm out?”

“Like this?” He put right arm straight out.

You laid down so that his arm was between your head and shoulder.

“Wrap your arms around me, please Jack.”

He brought you as close as you could get to him. You cried into his chest.

“I got you, I got you. Nobody’s gonna hurt you ever again alright?”

You nodded and lifted you head up. He wiped away your tears.

“I love you so much babygirl. So much.”

“I love you too.” You laid back down into his chest.

Jack was wrong you could fall asleep fast. But only when you were in his arms.

Things were gonna be different from now on. Cause you ever trust anyone to put their hands on you again?

———————————————————————

Probably gonna end up making this a short series! Maybe just one more part! Let know what you guys think!

[thewritingrowlet]

The Renewed Slate, ft. Kep1er Chaehyun

tags: anal, rough sex

length: 7k+

author's note: it was quite difficult to get the ball rolling, but here it is.

-

The warm glow of the morning sun fills the bedroom, casting a shadow of the weird position you two are in. Chaehyun is leaning against your body while you’re against the headboard, an open diary still lying in her hands. You didn’t intend to fall asleep this way, but the night-long exploration of shared memories took its toll before you could settle in a proper sleeping position.

You take a deep breath as you collect yourself, your nostrils getting filled with her scent. A loud, unintentional yawn escapes your lips, and the sound makes Chaehyun stir awake. “Oh, sorry, love,” you say, your voice hoarse from the sleep. “Mm, it’s fine,” she mumbles, absentmindedly tracing odd lines on the diary’s cover. “Did you sleep well, by the way?” You chuckle a little, a genuine warmth rising within you. “I think I made the most of this position,” you quip.

Chaehyun turns her head, her gaze meeting yours over her shoulder. “Can we sleep in, love?” The thought of spending more time wrapped in her arms is indeed tempting, but your responsibilities at work demand your presence today. “You can, but I need to go to work,” you say, hoping she will understand. “Work, of course.” She sighs as a flicker of disappointment crosses her face, but she quickly masks it with a smile. “Well, I won’t hold you back too long, then.”

Chaehyun pulls you out of the bed despite wishing for you to stay at home with her. “I’ll steam some frozen dumplings for you,” she says. Usually, frozen food meant that you had no other option, but now that she’s returned, frozen food is actually good. Chaehyun has prepared a box full of plump, meaty dumplings to reheat when needed.

“Sounds great, baby,” you say, your hands taking their favorite spots on her waist, “perhaps the chef would like a kiss first?” She laughs, lightly hitting your chest as her cheeks turn a delicate pink. “Alright, fine—just one kiss, okay?” Chaehyun parts her lips slightly as she closes her eyes, bracing for intimate contact. She gasps quietly when your lips claim hers, losing herself in the gentle heat of the kiss. When the tangle finally breaks, she mutters a quiet thank you. “That’s perfect, love,” she looks up at you with a tender smile, “I’ll get going now.”

In the kitchen, Chaehyun hums to the melody of her own thoughts, moving around the space efficiently to prepare breakfast for you. “Coffee or tea?” she thinks, eyeing the two containers sitting on the shelf before her. Eventually, she reaches for the jar of chamomile tea, her nose picking up the blissful scent as soon as the lid is open. “Mm, yes, definitely tea.”

After arranging the plates and mugs, she takes a seat at the dining table, her eyes glued to the brown bedroom door. She can’t help but bite her lip when you emerge from the bedroom with only a towel around your waist, admiring your good physique as a familiar urge whirls within. As you step closer towards her, she quickly shifts her gaze towards the other direction, because even when you’re not aroused, the clear evidence of your masculinity can’t simply be hidden—if anything, it does not let itself be hidden.

“Y-your breakfast is ready, love,” she says, trying her hardest to not stare at your crotch. Pretending to have missed her mischievous gaze, you take a seat next to her, your knee brushing against hers. “Before I start eating and forget, I just want to say thank you,” you say. You reach to the side towards her hand, rubbing the back of it affectionately while looking into her eyes. “One of my biggest sins in our marriage is how little I appreciated your efforts, and I plan to make it right with you on this… renewed slate, I suppose.”

Chaehyun, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone, can only look back at you, her lips parting slightly in puzzlement. “Okay…?” She scratches her temple, unsure of what else to say. “You’re… welcome, I guess?” You nod slowly, satisfied by her response despite the underlying hesitation behind it. “Right, well, I’ll start eating now.”

She looks at you intently as you dig into the dumplings on your plate, enjoying the sight of you devouring them as if they were the best dumplings of all time. She leans forwards a little, drawn to the genuine excitement for the food that you’re exuding, her hand finding a spot on your bare thigh. “Are they that good?” Your free hand finds its way around her back, hugging her tenderly from the side. “Yes, my dear; they’re that good,” you say, making sure that she knows how appreciated her efforts are. “If it’s okay with you, baby, can you reheat some more, because I want to take some to work?” She nods vehemently, her heart swelling with affection because of your simple request. “Of course, love,” she replies, her tone high in excitement. “In fact, I’ll make more of them while you’re at work. That way, we will always have dumplings in stock.”

-

“We’re going out for lunch, director—want to come along?” Mr. Kim offers, not knowing that you’ve brought your wife’s delectable dumplings to work. “I’m fine, Mr. Kim,” you show him the pink food container that is uniquely yours, “my wife made these dumplings for me, so I’ll have them for lunch.” A smile plays on his lips, hiding his envy behind it. “Well, I hope you enjoy your lunch, sir.”

As you bite into the first one and cause an explosion of flavors in your mouth, your phone rings: it’s your beloved wife checking in on you. “Hi, hello,” you greet her with a full mouth, your voice barely intelligible because of it. “Hi there,” she replies, seemingly excited to catch you eating the food she’s made this morning. “Enjoying your lunch, baby?” You hum in response, unable to say words while you’re busy chewing. “Aw, that’s cute,” the satisfaction is evident in her voice, “well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Call me back after you’re done eating, okay?” You nod to yourself, taking a mental note to get back to her later, and the call ends soon after.

You sink into your chair as you savor the last remnants of this special, delightful lunch. “Oh, Kim Chaehyun…” Her name rings in your mind, secretly wishing you could just hug her tight right here, right now. “Wait, actually,” you’re reminded that she wanted you to call her back, “let’s call her now.”

It takes but a second for her to answer the call, greeting you with a high tone that is thick with excitement. “Hi, baby!” Her high spirits are always infectious, often leaving you with no choice but to feel the same. “Hi, love. Can I just say that I loved, loved, loved those dumplings?” A giggle is heard from the other side, a sign that she’s flattered by your appreciation. “You’re sweet, you know,” she says. “Also, I’ve made a dozen more—all for you, my love.” You swallow a gulp that is stuck in your throat, wishing you could have more now. “That’s wonderful, baby.”

“By the way,” Chaehyun changes the subject. “I’ve read our diaries again. Can we talk about it a bit?” Your eyebrows rise, intrigued by her request to talk about those records from the past. “Sure, what about them, baby?”

“Just how crazy were we when it came to sex?”

Your heart begins pounding in your chest, each beat bumping against your ribs. Thinking about those passionate—sometimes even wild—nights at work feel inappropriate, but you’re not dodging her question. Chaehyun might feel like you’re being dismissive about the past if you avoid answering her. Coming across as being disparaging about the only thing she can use to get a glimpse of her old self is definitely not among the things you want to do to her.

“We… we’ve always been crazy for each other,” you answer, stringing each word carefully. “We’ve done things that some might think are beyond the lines of normalcy.” Chaehyun falls silent, processing your answer as she presumably holds the sex diary in her hands. “Is that so?” she asks, her voice almost disappearing. “Yeah, I mean, these… entries do sound wild—not all of them, but almost.” You nod along, and you can only think about how you have managed to persuade her into committing these naughty, borderline verboten, acts with you time and time again.

“I feel like I owe you some apologies,” you say, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly. “But I always consented, right?” she asks. “Yes, you did,” you answer firmly, not leaving any room for doubt about your moral correctness, even if the sex was often anything but. “I’d like to talk when you get home tonight, if that’s okay,” she inquires, hoping that you’ll give her the time and space for a discussion. “I’ll do my best, love.”

“I’ll see you later then, daddy.”

Hearing that name always makes you hard. You know the underlying meaning it carries, and if the past is anything to go by, tonight will end with you and Chaehyun out of breath and energy.

“Don’t tempt me, please,” you warn her, your words not carrying threat. “Or what?” she taunts. “Will you bend me over the dining table and take my anus like in page 9?” You sigh deeply, gradually losing your grip on the reins of lust. “Kim Chaehyun, please don’t push me,” you warn her again, this time a bit more serious. “Yeah, okay—look, I’ll go now, okay? I love you.” With a click, the call ends, leaving you alone with your growing arousal. “Yeah, I love you too,” you say belatedly, not reaching her ear.

-

Chaehyun stretches around, only getting herself together now after falling asleep on the couch, the sex diary still cradled in her hands. She then checks the time: only around an hour to go before you step through the front door. “I should prepare dinner,” she thinks, fighting the urge to stay seated. Closing the diary and leaving it on the sofa, Chaehyun makes her way to the kitchen, ready to whip up a quick meal for dinner.

The sex diary is now replaced with the recipe book, and her choice lands on the beef teriyaki recipe. Her finger taps on the little sticky note that says, “No onion, please,” and she chuckles to herself. “Someone doesn’t like onion, huh?” After grabbing the necessary ingredients and organizing them on the counter, she begins cooking, her skills from the olden days resurfacing with every recipe she’s trying out.

The cooking has gone rather swiftly and smoothly, and she’s managed to finish it before you arrive. As soon as Chaehyun settles on the couch again, beeps are heard from the front door, a sign that someone is about to emerge from the other side. “Has to be him,” she thinks. She maintains a smile as she waits for the door to swing open, and her smile only widens when you step inside the house.

“Hi there,” she waves at you with a smile, her forehead shiny with sweat she’s gotten from cooking, “you arrive just in time; I just finished making dinner.” You place your backpack in its usual spot on the shelf by the door, a gesture of leaving work at the front door and not letting it cloud the tender domesticity in this house.

“Thank you for cooking, baby,” you say, peppering her face with kisses, thus getting a bit of her sweat on your lips. “Are we eating now, or?” You eye the closed diary on the couch, hoping that she’s willing to postpone the scheduled discussion until you have some food in your belly. “Yeah, let’s eat now while everything is hot like me.” Your eyes blink rapidly, caught off guard by her last few words. “Hot like me, hey?” you repeat, and you’re met with her cheeks that are turning light pink.

You let Chaehyun lead you towards the dining table, and when she’s close enough to it, you bend her over, her covered breasts pressed against the wooden surface. “Page 9,” you say. “If I remember correctly, I took you just like this in that entry.” Chaehyun laughs softly, the sound vibrating through you. “Are we jumping straight into the deep end?” she asks, feeling the surge of arousal in the air. Your peck that lands on her nape sends a shiver down her spine. “No, not yet,” you whisper. “We’ll have the time for that.”

With a hand on her shoulder, you help her get back up, silently making a promise to indulge in some heated sexual encounter for the sake of reminiscing. “Can you prepare the food, please? I’ll join you after this.” Chaehyun nods without saying anything, her heart still racing at the thought of getting taken roughly over the table as the diary portrays. “Great, I’ll be right back.”

Chaehyun swiftly arranges the table, moving with a purposeful rush as if trying to finish dinner as quickly as possible, and you come out of the bathroom just as she’s filling some mugs with water. She puts the glass jug on the table and looks at you with a small smile and pink cheeks. “Dinner is ready,” she gestures at the set table, the big bowl of beef teriyaki serving as a center piece.

Chaehyun can only look at you as you step towards her, and your towering presence causes her to swallow a gulp. “I-I said dinner is ready, m-my love,” she stammers, unsure of your intentions. “Oh, I heard you the first time, baby,” you whisper, your breath hot against her face. “It’s just that I crave for a bit of… appetizer.” Once again, she swallows the gulp that is stuck in her throat.

“What appetizer—mph!”

Before she can complete her sentence, your lips claim hers in a searing kiss, and in a moment of submission, she presses her curves against your firm torso, melting into the mind-consuming contact. Eventually, after having tasted enough of her lips, you slowly pull away.

“Oh my God, you…” she trails off, not bothering to finish her words.

While it’s true that she’s been back for a few months, this level of fiery passion still feels rather unfamiliar to her—she’s trying her best to get up to speed, nonetheless.

“I what, baby?” Chaehyun looks at you with a steady gaze, but her chest is anything but; her heart that is pounding within has her chest rising and falling in quick succession. “I… I can’t keep up with you,” she says in a tiny voice. You ask, “Too fast?” and she nods slowly in response. “I’m sorry, love—look, let’s have dinner first, and then we can think about how we want to continue.”

Usually, you sit across the table, but tonight, you opt to sit next to her, and your arm instinctively takes a spot on her lower back, showing possessiveness even when there’s no crowd. “Dinner,” she points at the dish on the table while looking at you, “c-can we start eating now?” You give her a peck on the temple, the more tender touch soothing her nerves. “Of course, baby. Actually, if you want to, I can give you some space to eat, and I’ll eat after you.” Chaehyun takes a few deep breaths, finishing the job of calming herself down, and shakes her head after. “No, that is against the point of me cooking for you,” she says, her resolve strengthening again.

As the two of you start eating, the initial tension begins to dissipate, and in its place blooms a sense of comfortable domestic intimacy. You savor each bite of the teriyaki, offering genuine praises for her cooking that are punctuated by soft smiles and touches. She reciprocates these praises with smiles of her own that are twice as sweet.

-

A new habit that the two of you have picked up is sharing dish washing duties; Chaehyun washes them, and you wipe them dry. Tonight is a bit different, though: you’re the one getting wet while Chaehyun stays dry.

“So, erm,” she attempts to start a conversation. “When can we talk about them?” You glance at her, pretending to not know what she’s getting at. “Talk about what, baby?” you ask. She sighs, her spirits slipping away at your less enthusiastic response. “Please, don’t do that to me; those diaries are the only things that can help me learn my past.”

Taken aback by the sudden change  in tone, you freeze momentarily, letting the water run into waste. “Can I not learn about my past? Do you not want me to?” Chaehyun presses further. Having regained composure, you quickly turn off the tap and dry your hands. “Baby, that’s not what I meant…” You cup her soft cheek, stroking it gently with your thumb. “You want to talk about the diaries, yeah? Let’s settle in bed and talk about them, then.” She nods, rubbing her cheek against your hand, as a small smile plays on her lips. “I’ll wait for you in the bedroom, then.”

When you enter the bedroom, Chaehyun is waiting for you, leaning against the headboard with some diaries on her lap. She extends a hand, inviting you to join her in the soft mattress, adding to the irresistible draw of the already alluring atmosphere of the dimly lit bedroom. When your hand touches hers, fingers tangling together, a bigger smile spreads across her face, her eyes filled with hopefulness and anticipation of taking a trip to the past.

You lean against the headboard beside her, pulling her closer to you as she picks up the first diary she wants to address. “I saw some more names,” she begins, her voice a bit hesitant, “and I want you to tell me who they are, okay?” You nod, preparing yourself to be as honest as needed, committing to not hiding anything from her. “Read the names, baby, and I’ll tell you.”

“Kim Jiyoon,” she starts.

“Your friend from college. Stole a potential boyfriend from you.”

Chaehyun sighs, not expecting things to take such a drastic turn so soon. “Off to a great start,” she says, sarcasm thick in her voice. “No further questions—let’s move on to another name,” you urge her, not wanting to let her slip into sourness.

Chaehyun flips the page and finds another name. “Next one: Choi Jiwon.”

“A former employee at our company. Quit to get married to a guy who also worked for us. As far as I know, they already have a child—a son, I think.”

Her expression softens at this better revelation, a fond smile tugging at her lips. “That’s cute,” she says, her finger tracing small circles over Jiwon’s name on the diary. “I assume one of them had to quit because of company policy?” You sigh at the cold reminder of losing such a valuable employee to an outdated rule. “We’ve changed the policy, though,” you say. “Such a rule still exists, but it’s less… constraining, I suppose.” She nods, seemingly in approval of the change. “That sounds good, love,” she adds.

“Anyway, next one: Kim Chaewon.”

Your smile disappears promptly at the mentioned name, one that you used to say with a lot of love and care; one that took so much to forget. “Kim Chaewon…” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper. “What about that person, hm?” she presses on. You sigh, silently wishing she hadn’t found this name. You’re still committed to telling the truth, though.

“Kim Chaewon wanted me to give her 50 grams of gold as a dower,” you say, plain and truthful. Chaehyun’s eyebrows rise as she turns in your arms, looking at you with curious eyes. “O…kay? And what did you give me?” she asks. “Well, 50 grams of gold,” you say again. She scratches her head, befuddled by the spin that the story is taking. “I don’t understand, honestly.”

“Look, baby,” you start over from the top. “Chaewon made it very clear that it was 50 grams of gold or no marriage, and I knew it wasn’t just her wish, but also her parents. Something about testing my resolve and commitment to the relationship with wealth.” Chaehyun nods slowly, gradually getting a grip on the story. “Okay, so?” she asks, curiosity getting the better of her. “So, I said no, because it felt like it was her price tag so I could take her hand in marriage, and I didn’t want any of that.”

You lean back against the headboard, your arm loosening its hold on Chaehyun. “It wasn’t easy,” you mutter, your mind going back to the day you severed your ties with Chaewon—what an eventful day that was. “I cared for Chaewon, but I wasn’t going to compromise my principles just so I could get married.” You pause, your gaze meeting Chaehyun’s, your hand reaching for hers. “But then I met you,” you whisper, “and all those pain and regret just melted away, and I was more than happy to give you 50 grams of gold, because you deserved every gram of it.”

Chaehyun’s fingers tighten around yours, an adoring smile spreading across her features. “I’m glad you found your way to me,” she says, her voice thick with affection. “So am I, baby,” you press a tender kiss to her knuckle, “I’m beyond grateful to have you by my side for all these years.”

The diary closes with a subtle thud as Chaehyun leans closer against your side. “Oh, are we done, baby?” you ask, secretly relieved that she’s closed the book. “With that one, yes, but we’ll look at the sex diary after this.” You chuckle, realizing that you’re not out of the woods just yet. “Okay, I’m game for whatever you want to do, baby.”

The first diary soon loses its place in Chaehyun’s hands to the sex diary, one that is filled with another type of history. The entries of this diary are shorter, more focused on the specific encounters of each entry, and the language is often raw and unpolished.

As she opens the cover, the room’s temperature seems to start rising at the expectation of reliving into the sensual entries of this particular diary. A blush creeps up to her cheeks at the sight of the first page: a depiction of being taken from behind while standing up in front of a mirror. “Oh my…” she mutters. “You know, I’ve read this page so many times, and I blushed every single time,” she adds. Naughty as you are, you nibble her exposed earlobe teasingly. “Did you perhaps get wet too, baby?” Chaehyun exhales deeply, trying her best in maintaining her resolve. “Y-yes, I did,” she admits.

Chaehyun gently pushes her elbow against you, signaling her need to have some space for herself. “T-there are some… positions that I want to talk about,” she says, the blush on her cheeks still not disappearing. “Sure, baby.”

Chaehyun flips the dairy to the twenty-sixth page, titled “The Butterfly.” The page has a little sticky note stuck on the edge, serving as a marker.

“This one,” she places a finger on the title, “this entry sounds very naughty, love.” You chuckle, your mind going back to the night you first did this position with Chaehyun. “Does it, baby? Well, what if I told you that you were the one who came up with the name?” She shakes her head, amused by the creativity of her past self. “Anyway, can you, like, show me how we’re supposed to do this?” she asks. “Oh, I can—please, stand up.”

You guide her to stand in front of the mirror, taking a position behind her yourself. “Here, baby,” you then guide her to wrap one arm around your neck, facing away from you. “A-are you going to lift me like the diary says?” You nod, a fond smile playing on your lips. “On three, baby—one, two, three.” You lift her into the air, supporting her with your hands that are planted on the insides of her thighs.

“Here we have it, baby. The Butterfly,” you say, meeting her gaze through the mirror. Her cheeks turn red hot as she scans the sight of the reflection, taking in every detail of it. “S-so, you just… take me from behind while I’m in the air?” You give her a peck on the nape, praising her for quickly catching on. “Precisely, baby—from here, I can either put it in the front or the rear, depending on our agreement.” Chaehyun nods slowly, her mind imagining how it would be if you were to take her in this position right here, right now. “I think… I think I want to do this soon.”

“Soon, hey?” you echo, your low voice seductive. “Like, tonight soon, or…?” Chaehyun’s eyes sparkle, a mix of excitement and shyness swirling in them. “Maybe…” she whispers. “But… can we talk about this first, because I think doing it like this requires everything each of us has?” You nod, agreeing with her assessment. “It does, but usually, all I need from you is your moans,” you say, adding a little teasing remark for extra seduction point.

The heat in your voice, the temptation lying beneath it, and the suggestive smile on your lips are enough to ignite a flame of desire within Chaehyun. “My moans, huh?” she repeats, gradually surrendering to the lure of raw, unrestrained desire. “I’m a simple man, baby,” you say. “Besides, your moans sound like music to me.” She nods with firm resolve. “Alright, let’s do it, then.”

You carefully lower her onto the floor, giving both of you the chance to undress. Chaehyun takes off everything rather swiftly, kicking the discarded clothes to the side after she’s completely bare before you. She then takes a few steps, closing the gap between bodies, and reaches for your half-erect member, stroking it to hardness.

She looks up at you with a smile that’s more cute than sexy, more pure than seductive. “Whatever we do tonight,” she begins, her hand running along your length, “I want to emphasize on our love for each other than a simple man-in-woman encounter.” You plant a soft, fleeting kiss on her lips, making a promise to make this more than a physical connection. “Of course, sweetheart. After all, we did all those positions out of love, not mere lust.”

Satisfied with how hard you are, she turns around, facing the mirror once more. “I’m ready,” she says, no hesitation in her voice. You cradle her right hand against your nape as you lift her, your hands firm beneath the soft curve of her parted thighs, suspending her weight in the air. “Vaginal or anal, baby?” you ask, making sure both of you are on the same page. “Vaginal for now, please.”

“Okay, here I go, baby.”

You feel Chaehyun's muscles tense and then relax as you fill her, her soft moan a confirmation of your connection. The mirror reflects the intimate dance of your bodies, your movements synchronized, your breaths mingling in the air. You deepen the kiss on her nape, your hands still fixed on the soft flesh of her thighs, guiding her rhythm. The sensation of her heat around you is intoxicating, driving you to explore the boundaries of pleasure.

The pace quickens, your thrusts becoming more insistent, each movement a testament to the raw desire that consumes you. Chaehyun's moans intensify, her head falling back as she surrenders to the sensations. The world narrows down to the feel of her skin, the sound of her breath, the primal rhythm of your bodies entwined.

A surge of pure sensation washes over you both as you reach the finish line. You feel Chaehyun's body tighten around you, her moans reaching a fever pitch. You whisper her name, your voice thick with passion, and she cries out in release, her body shuddering in ecstasy. You hold her firmly, supporting her weight as the waves of pleasure subside, the shared climax a powerful apex of intimacy.

You slowly remove yourself from her heat, letting your excess seed drip onto the floor in waste. With cautious and precise move, you carefully lower her onto her feet, your hands planted on her hips to keep her steady. “You’re alright, baby. You’re so amazing,” you whisper, calming her down and praising her simultaneously.

Seeking comfort and safety, Chaehyun leans back against you, her chest heaving at every deep breath. “You… you’re insane…” she says, signs of exhaustion drawn all over her features. “H-how… how did you do that?” You chuckle, pressing a tender peck to the back of her head. “I don’t know; I just did what I thought would be best, and boy was it the best thing we’ve ever done.” Chaehyun weakly smacks your hand that is resting on her belly. “Next time, you should prepare me more,” she adds. You grin, catching the hint of a chance for a second try. “Sure, baby. Next time.”

Instead of lingering too long in the afterglow, you gently guide her back to bed. You pull the cover over her, wrapping her drained body under the soft material. “I’ll get you some water, baby, okay?” She nods, so you fetch a glass of water and bring it back to her. You caress her head softly as she takes small sips, her eyelids too heavy to keep open. The intensity from The Butterfly has completely disappeared, replaced by a relaxed, soothing tenderness, a reminder that this relationship is built on much, much more than sex—it’s built on the love and care you have for each other.

-

Chaehyun stirs in the middle of the night after having fallen asleep a few hours prior out of exhaustion. “Hi, sweetheart,” you greet her, your tone gentle. “Are you okay?” She nods, her cheeks rubbing against the pillow. “Just a bit sore—wait, why aren’t you asleep?” she asks. You put your tablet to the side, cradling her in your arms. “I just thought I could read some reports while you rested, baby.” She pouts, more playful than annoyed. “You wrecked me and read a report after that? You’re out of your mind, husband,” she continues.

A wave of tenderness washes over you as you hold Chaehyun close. “I didn’t wreck you, sweetie,” you protest, your voice laced with anything but irritation. “You said you wanted to relive some of the entries in the sex diary, so I granted your wish.” She hides her face in your chest, pressing her face against the firm muscles. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’ve made me so sore,” she argues.

As you stay in this warm cuddle with her, a memory from a few months ago resurfaces. “Chaehyun, baby,” you call to her, “didn’t you say you wanted to try doing page 5?” Chaehyun’s forehead furrows, trying to remember if she indeed said it. “Did I? What’s on page 5 anyway?” You shrug, not particularly attentive to the content of said page. “We’ll have to check.”

Chaehyun pulls away from the embrace, quipping, “Curiosity kills the cat, and I’m a very curious cat.” She reaches for the diary once more, quickly navigating to the referred page. She chuckles a little as she reads the entry, shaking her head in amusement. “It’s me sitting on a stool while getting fucked from behind,” she reveals, “God, we’re so… so… oh, what’s the word, naughty?”

While Chaehyun is still stuck reading the entry, you watch her with a smile on your face. It’s both relieving and arousing to see Chaehyun so eager to explore her own sexuality, to embrace the naughty—her word, not yours—things you’ve done together. Eventually, with a sigh, Chaehyun closes the diary and returns it to the bedside table.

“We can do that soon. Besides, I think I want to practice anal sex again.” Your eyebrows rise in surprise, not expecting her to bring up anal sex this soon. “Anal? Really?” Chaehyun chuckles. “I mean, sitting on a stool and sticking my butt out—that’s the perfect position for you to take my ass, no?”

There’s a handful of things that haven’t changed from Chaehyun, and this is one of them: she still doesn’t mince her words.

“I suppose so,” you answer. “You know what, why don’t we talk about it next time—you know, when our heads are… clearer, I guess?” Chaehyun smiles as she returns to her previous position in your arms. “Sure, let’s talk about it. After all, we’re doing all these things out of love and not simple lust, aren’t we?” You peck her on the lips, praising her for her understanding of the significance of this connection between the two of you. “Yes, my love; we are doing these things out of love,” you echo, confirming the mutual understanding between you and her.

-

You stir to the feel of Chaehyun's fingers tracing patterns on your chest. Her touch is light and lingering, a sensual reminder of the passion you shared last night. You open your eyes to find her looking right back at you, her expressions a mixture of affection and desire. "Good morning," she murmurs, her voice husky. "I was just thinking about... last night." A wave of heat washes over you as you recall the intensity of your connection. The weekend morning feels heavy with unspoken desires, a promise of further exploration hanging in the air.

You trace odd lines along her spine, the memory of the smooth skin of her back pressed against your torso still vivid in your head. “Good morning, beautiful,” you whisper, your voice as husky as hers. “What are you thinking about, baby?” Her hand slides along your stomach, its final destination unquestionable. “Are we perhaps going to try that anal-on-a-stool position today?” she asks.

A slow grin spreads across your face as the promise from last night resurfaces. “I think we can give it a try,” you say, keeping a straight face, pretending to be nonchalant. Chaehyun smirks, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “You could sound a bit more excited, you know,” she counters, seeing right past your façade. “I mean, think about it; the way you’d be positioned… the access it would provide…” Chaehyun trails off, letting the words hang in the air for you to fill in the blanks with your own imagination.

“Before I let myself run wild, let me ask you this, baby: do you consent to doing anal sex?” you ask, digging deep within yourself to find some clarity of mind amidst the growing sexual tension. Chaehyun smiles, her heart swelling with affection, touched and satisfied by your sense of responsibility in making sure she’s on board. “Of course, love. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have offered you my anus,” she assures you, making clear of her stance.

You walk to the kitchen together, fingers intertwined. You help her onto a stool near the kitchen counter, having her sit in a proper position for now. “The original stool broke a few years ago, and this is what we have now,” you say. Chaehyun looks at you and herself, making estimations about the height situation. “I don’t think this is high enough,” she says. You chuckle, amused by her judgement. “Don’t worry, baby; I can just bend my knees,” you assure her, determined to make the most of what you have.

Maintaining eye contact with you over her shoulder, she shifts to let her butt hang off the edge. “Yes, baby?” you ask, your hands already finding their resting place on her hips. “Can we test if this angle is comfortable for us?” You nod at her question, and you guide your manhood by hand towards her rear, bending your knees as necessary. “This is manageable, I think,” you offer your estimation.

Chaehyun turns around to face you, cupping your face with her soft hands, her thumb stroking your cheek affectionately. “I’ll be honest with you, love, I’m actually quite nervous about this,” she admits, being as genuine as can be. “Can we… can we, like, set boundaries or something?”

You nod solemnly, understanding the apprehension from her side. After all, she hasn’t been penetrated in that hole for so long at this point. “Of course. What boundaries? Safe words?” Chaehyun looks deep into your eyes as she carefully thinks about a way to balance safety and pleasure. “I think safe words can work,” she says. “Did we have safe words back then?” “We did, baby. Yours was pine—short for porcupine.” Chaehyun cracks a small laugh at the explanation. “So, I would just scream pine if I wanted to stop?” You nod, and she starts shaking her head, both amused and relieved by the agreement you once shared. “Yeah, okay, that sounds great.”

Chaehyun turns around again, resting her elbows on the counter. “Oh, we’ve come to an agreement, haven’t we?” you ask, pointing out her perceived readiness, a surge of anticipation warming your blood and stiffening your member. “Should I go grab some lube, just to make it easier?” Her expression becomes thoughtful. “Do we… really need it?” She glances at you over her shoulder again. “Can we try doing it without lube first? Please?” You fall silent momentarily, weighing the option to go in her anus raw and dry. “Alright, let’s give it a try,” you eventually relent. “Let’s try using spit, okay?”

You spit onto your hand and coat your erect manhood repeatedly with your own saliva. “Excuse me, baby,” you say as you apply some saliva on her tight pucker, and Chaehyun arches her back in reflex, a shiver running down her spine. “No going back now,” she thinks. “There, nice and somewhat wet. I hope that’s enough.”

Chaehyun inhales sharply when your tip touches her tight forbidden entrance, but she quickly tries to relax. “Slowly, please,” she whispers as her muscles start to part to make way for your invading member. She takes deep breaths to steady herself as more of your cock enters her, the burn of the stretch nearly unbearable. Eventually, when the entirety of your cock is fully seated inside her tight ass, she… moans.

“Does this hurt, baby?” you ask her, your fingers running along her spine. She takes a few more deep breaths, getting used to the intrusion in her most private part. “Kind of, but nothing… nothing I can’t take,” she answers, shifting her butt around to fully feel the way your cock is parting her anal muscles.

“God, this is… this is…” she trails off, unable to find the words to describe the sensations. “Can you start moving a little, please?”

You slowly retreat, only leaving the first few centimeters of your cock inside her, before pushing forwards once more, savoring the tightness of her stretched muscles as centimeter after centimeter gets swallowed by her ass.

“Oh, fuck…” you mutter, losing yourself in the heat of the moment. You look down at the intimate connection; this looks like it hurts so bad. “Baby, you okay? Want to stop?” She shakes her head to your question, her will to see this through still standing strong. “Can I try moving faster?” This time, she nods, giving you the green light to take her. “Alright, let’s do this, baby.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Give me your hands,” you demand, holding onto her hands like they were some reins. “Let’s do it like we did the first time around.” You deepen your thrusts, your rhythm becoming more primal, more demanding. Chaehyun's moans escalate, her body tightening around you. As you take on this wild pace, the stool begins to wobble, adding an element of precariousness to the encounter, heightening the thrill. She can only stay bent like this, left with no other choice but to take the punishing thrusts that short her brain every single time.

Soon, you stop your pumps to catch your breath, and Chaehyun, with her chest bumping with heavy breaths, looks at you over her shoulder. “D-daddy?” she calls to you, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, baby?” you answer, your tone gentle despite your ragged pants, letting go of her hands which you have been holding for so long. “W-why… why stop?” You bend forwards just enough to land a peck on the back of her head. “Just giving both of us some… some time to breathe,” you reason, your voice getting breathy. “We’ll start again after this.”

A few minutes have passed. Your breathing has somewhat returned to normal, and Chaehyun seems to have recovered as well. “Chaehyun, baby,” you call to her. “Ready to go again?” She nods, returning to her previous position of bending over the counter, offering her hands to be held again. “Actually, can we do something else?” you ask. She glances at you, asking herself what something else means. “What is it?”

“Let’s head to the sofa, baby. I’ll show you.”

You guide Chaehyun, whose anus is getting very sore, towards the sofa, each step heavy but careful. “Kneel on the floor and bend over the sofa, baby,” you direct her, and Chaehyun follows without asking twice. “Alright, that’s perfect.” You spit on her ass a few more times for good luck, and you lodge your cock into her pucker once more for the final stretch.

Her asshole offers far less resistance now that you’ve gaped it, thus letting you slide in with less difficulty than before, but that doesn’t take anything from her; she’s still very, very tight back there. “By the way,” you just remember something, “can I finish inside?” She nods. “Sure.” You give her another peck, this time on the center of her back. “Thank you, baby.”

You start off slow once more, but that’s not for long, as you’re quick to return to the previous pace when you were in the kitchen, your hips crashing into hers while your cock hits the deepest points of her asshole. “Fuck, I’ve missed this, baby—I’ve missed taking your ass,” you blurt, letting your longing for anal sex be known to her.

Having teetered on the precipice of orgasm for too long, your cock sends signals, telling you that your orgasm is very near and approaching rapidly. “I’m going to fill your ass, baby,” you say to Chaehyun, who has lost herself in this all-consuming anal sex.

With one last pump, you stick your cock balls deep, a wave of pure ecstasy flooding your head, her clenching muscles adding more to the bliss, and Chaehyun screams as your hot semen fills her anal cavity to overflowing.

As you ride the high of your orgasm, splashing sounds are heard. “Baby? Are you squirting?” She nods weakly as stray strands of hair get stuck to her face. “Y-yes, daddy,” she admits with no shyness in her voice, only remnants of pleasure from the unbridled encounter. “Ngh!” Chaehyun grunts as more and more of her juice flows out in abundance, drenching the carpet of the living room. “You know, it almost feels like your body remembers some of these things,” you offer her an observation. “I… I guess it does.”

You slowly withdraw, letting your excess seed spill onto the carpet. With cautious and precise movements, you help her climb onto the sofa, lying her square on her back. “You’re alright, baby. You’re so amazing,” you whisper, calming her down and praising her at once. Seeking comfort, Chaehyun opens her arms, inviting you to take your rightful spot in her embrace.

“How… how did you do that?” You chuckle at her question, pressing a tender kiss on her lips. “I just did what my old self would do, baby,” you answer her. “Were you in pain, by the way? Do you want to never do this again?” At first, she doesn’t answer, but eventually, she says, “I mean, you were very deep in my anus.” You nod as a surge of guilt stirs within. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Look, I promise we’ll prepare ourselves better next time, if there is a next time.”

She takes her turn to peck you on the lips.

“There is a next time, yes. After all, I want to remember the bliss of anal sex, daddy.”

You grin, already looking forward to the next time you gape her ass again.

“That’s my good slut,” you whisper, letting the degrading term slip out.

“Yeah, I’m your good slut.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

more tlm references 😳

Part 1 here!

Many people walk dogs in Seaglass Park. It seems dogs are a popular pet in Ultramarine City! This is because the mermaid princess’s human prince—Eric—is said to have cherished dogs. In fact, he once leapt into danger to help his dog (Max). The people of Ultramarine City honor his courageous act by keeping dogs of their own and by holding dog races and grooming contests. (Side note, Jade claims that a stray cat is also a dog??? And I recall Azul also saying he had trouble telling what is and is not a dog…? But is Jade just saying this to fuck with us?? Because he, Floyd, and Azul seem to understand what dogs are in Jack’s Labwear vignettes…)

Tile crafts are popular since building materials strong against moisture and salinity are needed in a coastal town. For the same reason, ceramics are also popular. Jade mentions music boxes with ceramic figures are common. AND ARIEL PLAYS WITH A MUSIC BOX IN HER TREASURE GROTTO IN PART OF YOUR WORLD… (A music box is also what King Triton gifted Queen Athena, Ariel’s mom, before she died.) He used to find such items in shipwrecks and played with them. (We know that Jade likes to scavenge and collect things from the bottom of the sea, which is very Ariel-like!)

The Port Inn Plaza looks EXACTLY like the town square from Eric’s Kingdom 😭

In this part of the world, it’s perfectly okay to walk up to puppeteers and take their puppets to put on your own shows! The tradition started when a merman unfamiliar with land took a puppet from a performer; this ended up livening up the show and getting more audience engagement.

The puppet show the NRC students put on is reenacting Eric in the aftermath of Ariel rescuing him 😭 They recite lines about a girl with a beautiful voice having rescued them… Jade goes the extra mile and also acts out Grimsby’s lines + Max the dog’s lines OTL (Yes, barking.)

I don’t recall horses being prominent in TLM outside of the carriage date, but it’s interesting to see them being taken care of in Ultramarine City. Because the sun is so strong, they swap out horses to avoid them getting heatstrokes. The stores also sell many equestrian supplies, including mane combs and hoof brushes, wood carvings of horses, photos, paintings, and charms.

The town sells old fashioned telescopes as a popular souvenir item, even if their performance is limited. Just like how Scuttle used one!!

The mermaid princess and human prince’s wedding was held on a ship. That particular ship’s design is often depicted in story books, paintings, and in model ships.

During the couple’s date on a small boat, fish spouted water and circled them. Water guns shaped like fish have become a local specialty because of this tale.

Dancing is popular! Of course, this is a nod to Ariel and Eric’s dancing scene in the film. Yuu gets a dialogue option here; if you express not being confident in dancing, Jade tells you not to worry; no matter how bad you are at dancing, he will support you. LIKE HOW ERIC HELPED ARIEL...

Riddle and Malleus, who have only ever been taught formal dancing, feel awkward just… moving along to the music. Rook encourages their hearts to lead them and to move how they feel. While this may just be me projecting (it’s much less explicit than everything else so far), this could be a reference to the musical version of TLM. In the song One Step Closer, Eric encourages Ariel to let her emotions come through in her dancing, which is a sentiment VERY similar to the advice Rook offers his peers.

AYO A KISS THE GURL RHYTHMIC?????!?!?!?! 😳 WitH J WoRD ROWInG THE BOAt???!?!?!!?! (So they can get a preview of what the bride snd groom’s course will look like!) HALLELEIGHSH, prAISE bE \o/

LOL????? One of the crabs they caught for dinner escaped (SEBASTIAN OUTSMARTED THE CHEF)…

The plating of the crab dish is also the exact same as how Sebastian was almost served up in the film!

Grim tries to capture the escaped crab and causes a big mess + ruckus! Just like in Les Poissons!!

[nineteenninety-six]

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Big Sister

Pairings: Dennis Whitaker x Sister!Reader

AN: Y'all I'm starting my new job on Thursday :( So that means I'll post even less but I'll be getting money so ;) Also this is short so I apologise

Synopsis: (I somehow deleted the request but here you go) You visit your brother Dennis for lunch during his first day working at PTMC.

You and Dennis had always been close. Ever since it became obvious that neither of you wanted to stay at home and continue your family's work at the farm that has been passed through generations of Whitakers as both of you had bigger plans.

You wanted to leave Nebraska, travel and explore places that you would never get to do if you remained at home and Dennis had even bigger dreams. He wanted to become a doctor and help people but for your parents, it was the biggest betrayal despite having four other sons who were more than willing to work at the farm and so the two of you were cut off and separated from your family.

Despite all of that, the two of you prevailed. You mostly survived off of your measly teachers salary and it definitely made things tight but you survived. You managed to secure a tiny two bedroom department but it was more than enough for the both of you.

Currently you were wandering into the bustling emergency department, looking for the familiar face with your floral patterned lunch bag in your hand. You knew Dennis felt a lot of guilt about not contributing to the household so he skipped meals despite your many reminders not to considering his line of work and so you decided to take advantage of your extended lunch break with all the kids skipping school for PittFest and surprise him with lunch so he didn't have an excuse to skip it.

"Hey Hon" A kind older woman with blonde hair calls you over, "Are you looking for something? Can I help you?"

You approach the nurse station where she was with a polite smile, "Hi, I'm looking for Dennis Whitaker. He's a med student."

"Whitaker? "The woman looks around before she clocks him. "He's just approaching now. Good timing."

You looked over your shoulder and sure enough Dennis was approaching the nurses charge station sandwiched in between two women. One of them was blonde with her hair pulled back into a simple braid wearing glasses and the other was brunette with her hair pulled into a ponytail.

"Whitaker! You've got a visitor."

Dennis' eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you, calling your name out in surprise, "Hey! What are you doing here?"

"Lunch." You hold up the lunch bag in answer before noticing what Dennis was wearing, "Those are not the scrubs you left home with."

The brunette's lips quirk into a smirk. "Did your girlfriend bring you your lunch Huckleberry? How cute."

"Girlfriend?!" Dennis sputtered, "No, she's my older sister."

"... oh" The woman's smirk falters, slightly embarrassed.

The blonde with glasses clears her throat interrupting the awkward silence that encompassed the group and stepped forward her hand outstretched, "Hi, I'm Dr Melissa King, but can just call me Mel"

"It's nice to meet you Mel" You shake her hand and introduce yourself.

Dennis drags you away before the other woman could introduce herself. telling them that he's going on his lunch break before you disappeared into the staff lounge.

"Huckleberry?" You softly question as you unpack the lunch bag, "What's that all about? You're not getting bullied are you?"

"It's just a joke she makes... because of the farm" Dennis explains before he digs into the lunch, ravenous from his long day.

You slowly nod, not totally convinced but brushing it aside. Sitting opposite Dennis, you watched as he stuffed himself and you worried about him.

"So..." You say before you take a bite of your sandwich. "How has your day been? You look like a sad mouse right now. What's with the new scrubs?"

Dennis heaved a sign as he began to recount his day, "Well, I lost my first patient."

"Oh, Den!" You murmur sympathetically at your brother

"Then I spilled Mylanta on my first set of scrubs. Then someone bled all over at me, then a kid barfed blood on me and then... someone peed on me."

You blinked owlishly at your brother, surprised at the sheer amount of bodily fluids that he came into contact with during his first day.

"Oh my God..." You mutter in shock.

"There's also rats on the loose"

" ... Is the ED even allowed to be open? Surely that's a health and safety violation?"

Dennis merely shrugs as he takes amounts of coffee, not caring of its scalding temperature.

"Well, considering the type of day you've had so far, I guess we can splurge on take out tonight. How's that sound?" You ask as you pack up your lunch mess.

"You sure? "Dennis looked excited at the prospect but hesitant considering your current financial situation.

"Yes Den. One take out isn't going to ruin us." You laugh.

Dennis smiles as a weight is lifted off of his shoulders. Living with you and honestly just surviving off of you had made his life a whole lot easier and he couldn't thank or repay you enough and he couldn't wait until he had a solid stable income and pay you back for all of the takeout, days out and just general support you had given him since you both left Nebraska. "I'II walk you out"

You nod and follow him out of the ED, through the waiting room until you finally step outside. You pull him into a tight hug and press a kiss to his cheek before you step back.

"I love you. Have a good rest of the shift and I'll see you afterwards okay?"

Dennis nods, a brightness in eyes after having lunch with you, "Okay. I love you too."

You wave as you walk away, "Stay safe Den!'

Dennis waves back, "I will!"

[writingslob]

(Part 2) Lin Ling's guide to becoming an emotional support civilian [YANDERE EDITION]

[TO BE HERO X] x [LIN LING] [Part 1 can be found here!]

Context warning: Cursing

Author's note: Finally! I'm finished! This took a hot second, but I hope you guys enjoy this as much as the 1st one!

Once again, thank you @kiraisrika for the idea! [ Also, @izarosf1833, you now owe me your firstborn. I'll be expecting it by mail on Wednesday >: ) ]

.

.

.

Lin Ling was having one hell of a weird day.

Not a bad day, not a good day. 

Just a weird day. 

Following Miss Juan and her crew into the lobby of Hero’s Tower. (His heart was beating frantically in his chest. He can feel his inner child fist-bumping the air because he’s finally here! After all these years, he’s here-!) He can’t help but try to get out of Nice’s grasp, his white hair tickling his jaw. “Man, can you like” —stop clinging to me like a koala— “not?” No matter how hard he tugged, Nice’s grasp was as hard as steel. 

“Nope!”

And that was that. 

The elevator ride was an equally awkward affair—the only sounds being the dull music, tapping of nails on tablet, and the light breaths of everyone in the elevator. The only one who wasn’t awkward was Nice, but Lin Ling, drunk off of hysteria and exhaustion, suspected that he had taken something and was high off his rocker, if only to make sense of this nonsensical situation. 

Like he knew he had ‘relaxation powers,’ but his number wasn’t nearly high enough for this! Hell, it wasn’t even affecting Miss Juan and the other men who were standing at arm’s length of him! Really, the only thing his powers should be doing is offering the same calming effects as lavender, not acting like…like-like catnip to drug-addicted cats! 

‘Holy shit, I compared Nice to a drug-addicted cat. What is my life?’ 

“We’re here,” Miss Juan announced, breaking him out of his thoughts before they could spiral even further. Stepping out into the apartment, he looks around, and he has to admit.

It sucks. 

Now, when he imagined a superhero’s apartment, and one belonging to the 15th hero at that, he imagined something grand, with white walls lined with gold and classical elements strung around to give it a real luxurious, Victorian feel. But even without those expectations, this is just a sad apartment. What with its barren walls devoid of life, not a single small plant to liven the space, and the less said about the gaudy, grandiose statue in the middle, the better. 

“Do you like it?” Nice ask, turning to look at him. Lin Ling doesn’t know what face he is making, but it must have shown his true feeling as Nice barks out a laugh. “Yeah, me neither.” He perks up. “But! Since you’ll be living here from now on, you can redecorate all you want! No budget! Here, let me give you a tour.” Detaching himself only to immediately grab onto his hand, Nice floats into the sky and begins to tug him when-

“Not so fast.” A hand shot out and grabbed onto Nice’s cape, yanking him back down to the ground. “We don’t have time for house tours. You two are coming with me and are going to sign enough papers to make your hands bleed, do you understand?” All Lin Ling can do is nod. Nice rolls his eyes, but they both dutifully follow Miss Juan as she leads them to the office. 

The office was just as sparsely decorated as the rest of the house, with only two white couches facing each other, a long glass table in between, and bookshelves sandwiching everything together. The only good part was the window wall, letting in enough light that they didn’t need to turn on the lights if they wanted to. 

Sitting stiffly on one couch with Nice and Miss Juan on the other, what ensued was a full hour and a half of back and forth between Nice and Miss Juan that was one blow away from a full-blown fistfight. He also had to sign enough papers to—like she said—make his hands bleed. 

His vision started blurring around the fifth paper, and by the 20th, his eyes were gorilla-glued together. It took all his strength not to faceplant into the stack of papers and sleep away the next year and then some.

“- He will not be joining you in your stunts with Wreck. How many times do I have to tell you before you get it through your thick skull?! “And how many times do I have to tell you that if he’s not joining me, I’m out! Permanently! What? Do you want me to spell it in blood? I’ll do it!” “Oh, for the love of God, you are acting like a child!” “And you’re acting like a bitch!” “You-!”

Okay, that’s it. “Can I go to the bathroom?” He asked quietly and flinched slightly as both snapped their heads at him. “Fine. Be quick.” “I’ll go with you!” They both said simultaneously. Miss Juan intensified her glare at Nice, but he was already getting up from the couch to follow him. 

“Huh? What? No! I- Thank you, but I really don’t want you following me to the bathroom.” Realizing a beat too late that it sounded a tad too rude, he awkwardly tacked on “Besides, you two still need to finish up...whatever you guys were talking about! Don’t worry! I’ll be back in a flash!” 

Nice narrows his eyes, looking like he wants to argue further. After a second and a half of silence, Nice sighs.

“Promise?” Lin Ling nodded in rapid succession, “Promise!”

He jogged out of the office. The door clicks softly behind him. Not looking back, he runs.

He didn’t know where he was headed, and frankly didn’t care. This wasn’t how his day was supposed to turn out. He was supposed to be at work, hunched over his computer as he edited frame by frame, or he was supposed to be in his boss's office, getting yelled at over his promo videos. Or, he was suppose to be at the ledge, looking death in the face before chickening out and going back to his shitty one bedroom apartment to enjoy another cup noodle dinner.

He wasn’t supposed to be here—why was he even still here in the first place? He should just take the elevator down and go back home. Leave this all behind him and—

“Hey! Cheer up!”

The elevator was in sight; just a few more steps to get there. But, even if deaf and blind, he would recognize that voice anywhere. Turning his head, he saw a blimp outside, displaying. 

“....Moon?”

“Being alive means experiencing many challenges, but please, don’t lose faith!”

Moon voices wash over him, and he can’t help but remember the long nights spent at his desk—the only light coming from the bright LED monitor in front of him, burning his eyes with its glow, and how the only thing that kept him going was her encouragement.

Does he want to leave Nice?

Sure, the last few hours were the most overwhelmed he has ever felt and sure, Nice was- well pushy was to put it mildly. But, does he really want to leave? Leave Nice and go back home to no one?  Continue his life like this never happened?

You don’t have a responsibility to Nice.

No, he doesn’t; he knows that. But… Nice’s mental state is clearly in tatters, and if his presence—if his ability—can bring him some peace, then he’ll stay. He may not be a hero, but if he can help one person, then that’ll be enough. 

If Lin Ling can be a hero to one person, that’ll be enough.

.

.

.

Stepping back into the room (he did genuinely need that bathroom break), he was surprised to find the place as neat as when he first walked in. Honestly, he was expecting a war zone. 

Miss Juan looked like someone had pulled multiple teeth out of her—scowling and rapidly typing something away on her table. Meanwhile, Nice looked like he just caught the canary. His smile was wide, smug, and real. (Looking at it, he can’t help but compare it to all the others he's seen before- plastered on billboards and ads. He never noticed how fake they were before.) “You came back.” Nice tilts his head to look at him, his smile softening. 

Lin Ling tilted his head back at him. Of course he did. “Of course I did,” he answers simply, taking a seat back on the couch. Nice wastes no time in scooting over until their bodies touch. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Nice’s tense body relaxing, his shoulder slumping, and his perfect posture faltering just a bit. 

“Ehm,” Miss Juan cleared her throat, breaking Lin Ling out of his train of thought. He turns back to her, “We finally managed to draft up a final contract for your—” Wait, what? “Hold on, what were the ten million other papers I signed before for then?” She raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “NDAs, of course. Since you will be living here, you are bound to see other superheroes and their teams. So, you have to sign an NDA for every single one of them.”

“Now this—” She waves a single white paper up in the air before placing it on the table. Nice reaches out to straighten it out while she continues, “—is an offer of employment to join Treeman Corp as Nice’s emotional support civilian. Inside, I have outlined all of the benefits you will receive when you join us.”

Yeah, that makes sense- Hold on. Snatching the paper off the table, his eyes skimmed to- Holy shit, there it is. Written in bold black ink. 

“EMOTIONAL SUPPORT HUMAN!? Why is that the name!?” He stares up incredulously at Miss Juan, only for Nice to reply.

“It fits, no?” He cocks his head as he skims the contract. “Originally she wanted your title and job to be one of a personal assistant, but!” His smile widened, bordering on blinding. “You will not have to lift a single finger as long as you stay by my side! So, we changed it to this!”

“…”

“Do you like it?”

“…Just hand me the pen.”

.

.

.

Lin Ling was starting to get nervous. 

After signing the contract (He tried getting the name changed to anything- anything else, but, coupled with Nice’s puppy eyes and Miss Juan pointedly looking at the clock, he gave up and just accepted his fate, his embarrassing, embarrassing fate), Miss Juan immediately chaperoned them to True Love Recipe’s studio where they were shoved into the makeup room with what he assumed to be the script and were told to wait for the makeup artist. 

They were told that 30 or so minutes ago at 7:00 pm.

It was now 7:43 pm

The show starts at 8.

Lin Ling was getting anxious, and from the sound of Nice reshuffling every item on the desk and him glancing at his phone every minute, so was he. 

“Shouldn’t the makeup artist be here by now?” Nice looked up, offering a reassuring smile to Lin Ling. “Don’t worry, he’s often late, so this isn’t out of the norm for him.” He gnaws on his lip, glancing at his phone. “Still,” He presses, “It might be a good idea to do your own makeup, Nice. Just in case he’s a no-show.”

Nice hums, “I should." He pauses, "There is a problem, however.” Holding up a finger, he turns to Lin Ling with an almost embarrassed smile, “I don’t know how to do makeup.”

“For real?” “Yes.” He turns back to the assorted makeup, picking up two of the nearest bottles. “It shouldn’t be too hard, though, it’s just blush and cream, right?” Lin Ling couldn’t help but snort, the sound making Nice blush a faint pink. “Here,” Getting up from the couch, he walks over and plucks the two bottles out of his hands. “Sit, I’ll do it for you.” Nice stared at him in shock before immediately slamming himself down into the chair. 

Leaning in close, he can’t help but marvel at how smooth his face is, not an acne scar in sight. This will make his job real easy then. Looking at the makeup supplies on the desk, he picks up a highlight and contour palette along with a big bristle brush. Opening the thing up, he begins to paint.

He should keep the makeup light, he muses to himself as the soft, repetitive motion of blending and smoothing things out lulls him into a trance, just enough so the stage lights won’t wash him out. Stepping back half a step and deeming the contour complete, he picks up a blush to continue the process.

Nice observes him with half-lidded eyes, “You’ve done this before.”

“Mmph,” he nods, carefully applying the blush. “A coworker of mine got really sick and begged me to fill in for them as the makeup artist for some small commercial. Feeling bad, I agreed.” A grimace tugged on his face as he further recalled the memory. “My boss got on my ass about it, though. Assigned me so much work after because ‘-If you have the time to play around with dress-up, you have the time to finish these by Monday!’ God, I had to pull so many all-nighters to finish those.” During his semi-rant, he didn’t notice how Nice’s eyes narrowed into slits, his hands clenching into fists.

“Why didn’t you quit?” 

Lin Ling freezes for half a step, his hand reaching for the gloss. He laughs, “Well, because I liked the job.” He starts, turning around with the gloss in his hands. Bending in closer, he uncaps the lid. “Sure, it wasn’t my dream to work there, and my boss was an absolute grade A asshole, but,” Tilting Nice’s chin up, he began to apply the lip gloss, the stick sliding across Nice’s lips, leaving them shiny and plump. “I always wanted to help, and what’s better than to help out heroes from behind the scenes?”

(He doesn’t mention the fact that his actual want was to be a hero, to punch bad guys and save innocents. He doesn’t mention the fact that when he was a child, he would look up at heroes like Nice and want.) Dammit, a bit of the gloss got onto his skin. Swiping it off with his thumb, he steps back to admire his work and—

Nice’s face was red. Pure tomato red.

Shit “Did I hurt you?" Fuck, fuck, fuck "I am so sorry! What do I do!? Are you allergic to something!? Hold on, let me go find a doctor!” Turning around, he was about to sprint before a hand shot out to stop him.

“...No, I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me.” Turning back around, Nice’s once tomato-red face has calmed to a dusty pink. “Still, shouldn’t you get checked out? I'm sure I can find a doctor before the show starts.” Lin Ling argued. Nice’s mouth opened to retort when-

Miss Juan bursts into the room, tablet in hand. 

“What’s taking so long!?” She demands, “We’re airing in 5! Get your asses on set!” 

.

.

.

Oh, Lin Ling,

Does he know how much he is affecting him?

How must know. He must know how much he drives Nice mad. 

His heart is still beating uncontrollably in his chest, the touches left by Lin Ling burn on his skin, and the way his face was just a breath away, his cute eyes focusing on him and only him. Oh, how it took all his patience not to pounce on the boy and take him right then and there.

The anger—the absolute fury he felt when Lin Ling began talking about the despicable man who was once his boss took him by surprise. A day ago, he could barely muster the energy to get out of bed, but now? His vision was filled with red and how he wanted to hurt. Hurt all who dared to lay a finger on Lin Ling. Lin Ling’s boss is a dead man on borrowed time because the minute he gets his hands on him—

Perhaps he’ll present his head as a gift to Lin Ling, showing him how deep his devotion goes. Show him that whatever he wants, Nice will provide.

Oh, Lin Ling, you truly are my heart.

Now, if only filming could end right so he can take Lin Ling back home. But alas, he must suffer sitting next to Moon as this new host, what’s-his-name, goes wildly off script, rambling about one thing or another. Really, the only thing stopping him from killing the guy was Lin Ling.

Lin Ling, who is standing behind the host. Far away from him so the camera can’t see, but close enough that Nice can see all the intricate details on his pretty little face. Nice smiles.  

Ah, what a good day. 

[chrepsi]

ˇ ⋆ ╱ normalcy - b. eilish

wc ; 700+

the house smelled like vanilla scented candles and quiet.

not peace. quiet.

it was the kind of silence that felt like a weight on your chest — not heavy enough to crush you, but just enough to make you aware of every breath you took. billie’s house was beautiful in a way that didn’t feel accidental. every corner was curated, touched by soft textures and moody light, like she’d built herself a cocoon to stay hidden from the world.

and maybe she had.

you stood at her kitchen island, the handle of your coffee mug warm beneath your fingers. it was past midnight, but you were both awake, neither of you saying much. you’d been crashing at billie’s for a few days now — not because you had nowhere else to go, but because being with her felt better than being anywhere else.

better than home. safer than your own thoughts.

she was curled up on the couch in a giant hoodie, sleeves pulled over her hands, hair messy in a way she probably didn’t mean it to be. the tv was on, some 2000's romcom playing with the volume low, but neither of you were watching.

“do you ever get tired of it?” you asked suddenly, not entirely sure where the question came from.

she didn’t look at you right away. “tired of what?”

“the noise. the eyes. the pretending. being… billie eilish.”

a flicker of something passed over her face — not quite pain, not quite exhaustion, but close. she let out a slow breath, one hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “yeah,” she said. “all the time.”

you nodded, staring into your coffee like it might tell you something useful. “you make it look easy.”

she gave a dry laugh. “that’s the game, isn’t it?”

you looked at her then, really looked — and not in the way everyone else did. not like a fan. not like someone who wanted something from her. just… her. the girl who still ate cereal out of the box, who hummed under her breath when she brushed her teeth, who once cried during a commercial because the dog reminded her of one she lost as a child.

you didn’t know when the lines started to blur. when crashing on her couch turned into making her tea in the mornings. when your hands started brushing too often to be accidental. when your texts turned from cracking jokes to voice notes that ended in soft silences, like neither of you wanted to hang up.

you hadn’t talked about it. not really.

you weren’t sure she wanted to.

but tonight felt different.

“i miss normal,” she said softly. “not like, boring normal. just… being able to be somewhere and not feel like i'm performing.”

billie’s eyes met yours then. they were almost brown in the low light, like the ocean before a storm. “you think we’d ever be good at normal?” she asked.

you tilted your head. “i think we’d be good at real.”

a beat passed. two.

then she said your name, and the way she said it made your skin buzz. like it meant something more when she said it. like she was reminding herself you were really here.

“i don’t know how to do this,” she admitted. “whatever this is.”

your heart twisted. “me either.”

she stood then, slow and deliberate, like she was afraid if she moved too fast, she’d scare you — or herself — off. she crossed the room and stopped just in front of you, her fingers twitching slightly like she was debating something.

you held out your hand.

she took it.

the touch was feather-light, but it hit you like a wave. all those almosts, all the glances and unsaid things — they were right here, between your fingers.

“i keep trying to be normal,” billie whispered. “but maybe normal was never the point.”

you stepped closer. “maybe being real is enough.”

her breath hitched — barely, but you caught it. and then, like gravity had finally won, she leaned in. her forehead touched yours. her hand found your waist. and for a second — one beautiful, fragile second — everything else disappeared.

no fans. no cameras. no pressure. just her. just you.

“i’m scared,” she murmured.

“i know,” you whispered. “me too.”

and maybe that was okay.

maybe it was the most honest thing either of you had said in a long time.

<3 taglist ; @silverspringsstare @bilssturns @bilswifee @delilahsturniolo @strnilolover @dollarsbills @anyaa2s

( reply here to be added )

[wordsofwhimsy]

Your reader from opposites attract buys this cat and calls it Mark number 2, finds herself HILARIOUS. Mark hates it because it steals all of her attention, he thinks the cat is out to get him.

not me having absolutely put this into a drabble - i love this so much thank you sharing it omg

You weren't trying to start a turf war.

Really, all you wanted was a cuddly little companion while Mark was off saving the world (or, more often lately, accidentally destroying half of it while trying). So when you walked into the shelter and locked eyes with a sleek black-and-white cat—complete with a bold black stripe running perfectly down its head, just like a fuzzy little mohawk—it felt like fate.

Mark didn’t think so.

He stood in the doorway, backpack slung off one shoulder, suit unzipped halfway, and his hair windswept from the flight here as his eyes as he watched you on the couch—completely absorbed in scratching behind the cat’s ears. “Okay, but like... don’t you think it’s weird that it’s so similar?” he said.

“To what?” you asked, glancing up.

He pointed at his own head dramatically. “This. My hair. My signature. This cat is straight-up cosplaying as me.”

You blinked. “You think the cat... copied your look?”

“I think the cat’s mocking me,” he said flatly, arms crossed. “Look at it. It’s smug. It knows what it’s doing.”

The cat, as if on cue, stretched luxuriously across your lap, then flopped to the side with its stripe on full display—facing Mark. Unblinking. Daring.

You stifled a laugh. “I think you’re being a little paranoid.”

“I think it’s trying to seduce you with its fake mohawk and villain arc,” Mark muttered, stepping closer. “You didn’t even greet me like that when I got home.”

“You mean with a head rub and a chin scratch?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t complain.”

You rolled your eyes and reached up to ruffle his hair. “Jealous of a ten-pound cat. Cute.”

Mark leaned down, giving you a quick kiss, but shot the cat a look mid-peck. “Alright, Stripe. I see your game.”

The cat yawned without breaking eye contact.

The battle lines were drawn.

[snzunii]

love wins all | chapter three ( satoru g. )

from childhood summers and petty high school banters, to the endless college lectures—med school and the chaos of residency, you've been through it all. you've built everything together. you're each other's home—everything. but what if your relationship breaks beyond repair? what if the one thing you couldn't save was each other? can your love still win it all?

neurosurgeon!gojo x trauma surgeon!reader

warnings. romance, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, hurt no comfort, fluff, medical au, established relationships, high school sweethearts, unresolved feelings, unresolved issues, grief, emotional repression, mutual pining, emotional trauma, childhood trauma, explicit sexual content | eighteen plus only!

word count. 6.1k

masterlist.

note. hi, chapter three is here. aaaa i've been writing this since yesterday. lol anyway, close your eyes for errors or some mistakes. i just wrote what i've learned in our neuro topic last week (i want to collapse) also, i'm going to start a taglist for this on the next chapter. just send an ask or comment if you wanted to be added (not adding blogs that doesn't have visible age anywhere on their blogs, sorry)

i hope u enjoy this chapter. reblogs are always appreciated! <3 lovelots

CHAPTER THREE: STILL WITH YOU

It has been two days since that incident in the on-call room. Since Satoru punched your Dad. You don’t actually know if you’ll be mad—or grateful. Because for one, your Dad deserved that, not just for pushing you to do this surgery but for… everything. Or mad, because Satoru’s outburst could cause him everything that he worked hard for to get here. 

It was frustrating, really. 

You haven’t spoken properly since that day. Not about what it meant for your relationship and what happens next. You’re not even sure if you still wanted that divorce you asked him.

You’ve been passing by each other in the hallway, other times you can see him glancing at you at the cafeteria but neither says a word. Besides, he’s busy doing something in his lab and he’s been packed with surgeries (not that you’re checking up on him—okay, fine. you are.) and the pit is a busy place, as usual—and Dr. Yamada left you a bunch of cardiothoracic cases to do while she’s gone. 

Including this one.

“Hey, how are we doing here?” you smiled a little, stepping inside the room of your patient—the one your father forced you to operate on—the woman you fought so hard to save.

“Dr. Gojo!” she has a big smile on her face, “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

You just gave her a slight nod, checking on her vitals—the usual routine check-up. So far, everything’s holding. She’s doing fine. 

“You’re doing so well. Let’s keep it that way, okay?” you say adjusting her IV line slightly, pulling the blanket over her chest, your voice wasn’t soft—but it isn’t unkind either. That’s how it is supposed to be, setting boundaries but enough to show that you care.

Not too attached, but not that detached either. 

You can’t involve yourself too much in a patient—especially this one. Your eyes hover her figure for a fraction of a second and your chest aches. “I heard the other nurses call that tall doctor—the one with white hair, Dr. Gojo too, are you related to him?”

You paused for a moment, and you nod. “Yeah, he’s my husband.”

“Oh! Really?!” she gasped in delight, “That’s so cute! You’re like a power-couple doctor! That’s so sweet.”

You just hummed, you hesitated a bit but then you crouched at her level. “I have to go now. No lifting heavy things. No stress—none of that at all. Rest, eat healthy and stay hydrated. Okay?”

Ayumi nods enthusiastically, before you could even step out the door she thanked you again. You smiled at her, “Dr. Ieiri will be here soon to check on you and your…”

You bit your lip but you steadied yourself, “Your baby… I’ll see you soon.”

—

“Hey.” you peek at the door and you see Ieiri typing something on her computer, she looked up, and you barged in her office, sinking yourself in her couch.

“Hey, yourself. What’s the occasion? Why did the Chief of Trauma grace me with her presence today?” she smirked, sitting beside you.

You just snorted, resting your head on the backrest of the couch. “Just wanted to see my friend.”

Ieiri mimicked your position, “Heard you filed for divorce.”

“Satoru told you?”

“No, Suguru did.” she looked at you, “You won’t really go through with it, right? I mean, come on, it’s you and Satoru…”

You don’t know. You wanted to save Satoru from yourself but everything that you’ve decided doesn’t feel right. 

You closed your eyes, sighing. “To be honest, it’s so hard. I can’t keep on doing this to him. I’m so afraid.”

“Afraid of?”

You swallowed, the words stuck on your throat and they wouldn’t come out. How would you even explain it? How would you tell her something so illogical? Something you’re not sure is fixable?

You felt pathetic—it’s just words but it was so hard. It was so hard to open up because you always feel that it’ll be a burden—that you’ll just add to something. 

Shoko didn’t press, she just sat there because maybe that’s what you needed. Because she knows you. 

After a beat, she speaks, “It’s okay to be afraid, YN. But being afraid doesn’t equate to pushing someone away. Especially someone who’ll watch the world burn into flames for you.”

You tilted your head a little to glance at her, her words etched on your mind like a branding. “He loves you. We’ve seen it firsthand. You both are literally so annoying.”

You chuckled, remembering the times where they’ll roll their eyes because they can't take how affectionate Satoru is to you—because he loves like that, he doesn’t care who sees, he loves you so passionately that he’ll bend all the laws of nature for you. 

“I know you think you’re shielding him from the pain by leaving but it’ll just hurt you both more.”

You breathe, soaking in the words that she’s saying, letting it sit heavy on your chest. Because she’s right and you hated how easily she could read you. 

“You can let yourself need him.” she looks at you and smiles faintly, “You save everyone but yourself, you can do that by letting him in.”

You could feel your heart pound slowly—loudly, feeling her words settle in. You weren’t supposed to need anyone—that’s how you were raised, you were supposed to survive on your own.

But with Shoko saying all these—maybe needing him doesn’t make you weak, maybe pushing him away is what’s pulling you apart even more.

—

With a coffee on your hand, and a tablet on the other you stride in the hallway along with Miwa and Kugisaki trailing you like lost puppies. They clutch their notebooks on their hands like they’re life is hanging on a balance.

“Miwa. Present.” you say without sparing them a glance. 

“Mr. Ito, 54 years old, post-op day three from an emergent CABG. His vitals are holding, chest tubes have minimal output overnight. No new complaints.” Miwa says.

“So?” you look at Nobara, “What do we do next?”

“Refer him to physical therapy for early mobilization and breathing exercises. Then monitor for any signs of infection.”

“Good.” you say, they smile at each other—like satisfying you made their day, but why would you stop there? You raise your brow, “And why exactly do we initiate early ambulation for post-cardiac surgery?”

Miwa jumps in, “To prevent pneumonia and DVT.”

“Good.” you say, “And what if the chest tube shows fresh blood?”

They pause for a bit, carefully thinking the next words to say to you. Your face turns blank, the tablet thuds as you drop it on the counter. “Come on, tell me. Teach me like I’m a first-year. Kugisaki.”

“Huh?” she jumps a bit, “It’s an emergency. Possible—”

“Miwa.” you cut her off.

Miwa flips through her notebook, “Check for possible surgical site bleeding or cardiac tamponade.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes?”

You clicked your tongue, “Is that a question or an answer?”

“Yes—I mean, yes—it’s an answer.”

“Good, next time, don’t second guess. Always be sure, you’re holding a life in your hands. Come on.”

You pick the tablet up again and turned away, you continue walking. They share glances with each other before scrambling up to follow you.

“Has she always been like this?” Nobara whispered to Miwa, the latter nudged her shoulder as a warning but it’s no use because you heard her anyway but you didn’t say anything. 

“But I heard she’s not… always like this. You know.” Miwa answered her, eyes glancing on your back, making sure you aren’t already shooting daggers their way.

“Maybe it’s because of Dr. Gojo—I mean, other Dr. Gojo—like, have you seen them at all together? I heard they were together ever since pre-med or something?”

You pursed your lips as you ignore them or at least try to. They’re not very good at whispering. 

“No.” Miwa says. “I heard they’re together ever since high school.”

“Whaaaat? That’s so—”

They both stopped walking when you stopped walking, the girls almost bumping on your back. 

You know you heard his voice—sharp, loud—mad, just a few walks along the hallway.

“Are you thinking? At all?” you continued walking, staying behind the nurses’ station, “You think playing it safe will make you a hero?!”

Satoru’s mad. Really mad. You’d never seen him this mad—well no, you’ve only seen him this mad once—it was med school, you think. But he was worse back then.

“You’re being reckless, Gojo! You think cutting into him now is smart?! You’ll fucking kill him!” Dr. Yoshida fired back—his senior neurosurgeon.

For a moment you just stood there. No, it wasn’t your business. 

Someone will step in, someone will stop them. You tap your foot on the floor—getting restless, clutching the tablet on your hand and your coffee discarder on the counter.

“You know what I think? You’re a fucking coward—” 

And it just happened, his fist came flying to your husband’s face. 

You saw Satoru’s head whip to the side violently, you didn’t even have time to react, you just moved—shoving the tablet to Miwa or Nobara—you don’t know who, you don’t care. 

You ran towards them tossing yourself in between, “THAT’S ENOUGH!”

You shouted—loud, angry—your voice dominated the whole floor, bouncing off the walls. 

Everyone stopped moving. You can see the look on Satoru’s features—slightly shocked. You grasp on Satoru’s arm and drag him to the nearest empty room until you’re out of sight, slamming the door behind you.

Not caring what they say. Not minding the whispers that comes your way. 

“Holy shit.” Nobara whispered to Miwa with wide eyes, watching you pull Satoru away from prying eyes like he’s a scared little kid.

“Yeah, holy shit. I didn’t think she could be any more scarier.”

—

Satoru wasn’t looking at you, but you stared at him—his hair a mess, his lower lip busted and your heart clenched at the sight. 

He was still simmering with anger, you could tell. 

You were silent for a moment, until you took a deep breath and moved to the counter to get the first aid kit. Satoru sat on the exam bed and watched you silently, his heartbeat gradually steadying from the intense emotions that he was feeling. 

How do you look so… calm now? Your emotions were in contrast to what you were earlier. This is why he couldn’t let you go, and why he wouldn’t.

You still care for him. You still love him—deeply.

You face him, holding his chin in between your fingers to steady his face then you press the cotton on his lip. He flinched and you clicked your tongue, “Don’t move.”

Your voice was soft, nothing like earlier. You cleaned the wound carefully. There was just comfortable, familiar silence between you. No one dared to say anything.

He just watched you, burning your image in his mind—scared that if he blinked for even just a second, you'd slip away. Your brows slightly furrowed, your lips tight. Until you spoke, “What were you thinking? Another fight in just two days? Are you really throwing your career away?”

He didn’t answer, instead, he clutched on your hip to pull you close, arm circling around your waist as he leaned his forehead on your shoulder—grounding himself. You could feel his body tremble slightly as he breathed, maybe from the anger. Or Exhaustion.

You froze just for a bit. You sigh, putting the cotton down. There’s hesitation in every move that you're making but you shrugged it off. Your fingers ran through his soft hair, your other hand soothing his back gently.

“I don’t care what I lose.” he murmured, “But don’t ask me to lose you because I couldn’t do that.”

Your breath hitched and your heart pounds, why is he doing this to you?

You don’t know what you were thinking but all the words just came out of your mouth. Slowly, not a hint of hesitation but assurance. “You’re… not. I’m yours, Satoru. You couldn’t lose me.”

Because it’s true. You’ve always been his. 

─── MARCH, 2011 ───

The sun casts a soft glow on your skin as you look up, a smile adorned on your face—your hair, dancing slightly along with the wind. 

It’s your graduation day.

You’ve made it. You never thought you’d survive the endless college lectures—all the tears you’ve spent, all the late-night study sessions, but you’ve made it—you survived it all, and you didn’t think you would if not for him.

Satoru. Your best friend, your boyfriend—standing there, smiling as he watched you. You looked at him and jumped on his arms, he spun you around, letting out a laugh when you raised your arms into the air, “We made it!”

“God, you’re so embarrassing.” Shoko says and you just stuck your tongue out at her when Satoru settled you down.

“Congratulations, you two!” you both looked at the person who spoke, it was Satoru’s mother. You smiled, she immediately went in your direction and embraced you—instead of his own son, who is now frowning.

“Really?” Satoru says, “Hello? I’m your son.”

His father laughs lightly, tapping Satoru’s back. “She’s always been your mom’s favorite. Aren’t you used to it by now?”

You laughed at that, pulling away from her slightly to look at your boyfriend, “Don’t worry, you’re my favorite though.”

“As you should. Because I’m proposing to you today.” he says so casually that you almost choked on your saliva.

You blinked, pulling away from his mother. Your voice almost whispers,  “What?”

And before you could even process what he just said, he was already kneeling in front of you. You looked at his mom and dad—his mom, smiling, nodding at you to tell you that it’s real.

He is proposing, right now. Today. 

He didn’t care who was looking—your classmates, your professors—Satoru’s always been like this. There’s not a sliver of care in his body when it comes to you. 

Satoru looked up at you, smiling as he laid out a small, velvet box in front of you. “Marry me.”

He didn’t need any big speeches because you already know it all.

You laughed, tears welling up in your eyes, because he’s not asking—he’s telling. You bite your lip, before nodding. “Yes… yes, I’ll marry you.”

The whole place erupted into applause, you swore you heard Shoko shouting ‘Finally!’ and all you could do was snort back a laugh. Satoru stood up quickly, slipping the ring into your finger—a little nervous if it’ll fit your finger—but it did.

So perfectly. 

“Now, you’re stuck with me.” he laughs, pulling you in. You smiled and buried your face into his neck. “I love you.”

You pulled back a bit, he tucked the strands of your hair behind your ear, wiping the tears from your eyes using his thumb, “I love you, Satoru.”

—

The diner was quiet, just a few people eating inches away from the corner booth where you sat—the four of you, still dressed in your gowns laughing about something mundane over burgers, milkshakes and fries.

“When’s the wedding? Tomorrow? Next week?” Shoko teased, her elbow propped  on the table, her cheek resting on her palm. 

“God, you two are going to be even more unbearably annoying now, are you?” Suguru groaned dramatically as he slouched on the chair, earning a laugh from Satoru while you scrunch your nose. 

Your thumb brushing over your finger where your engagement ring sits over and over—making yourself believe that this is in fact, real. You’re engaged to the love of your life.

That you get to spend your whole  life with him. It’s fucking real.

Satoru slung an arm around you, pulling you close to him. “My god, it’s starting.”

“Hey!” you pursed your lip, “We’re not that bad!”

“Not? That? Bad?” Shoko emphasizes every word, rolling her eyes, “You can’t even last five minutes without eyeing each other. Give me a break.”

And to annoy them even more, you faced Satoru and cupped his cheek—pressing your lips against him, moving your lips slowly, deliberately.  You could feel Satoru grin into the kiss, and to add fuel to the fire, he pulled you close until you’re practically sitting on his lap.

You both stopped when Suguru threw a fry on Satoru’s head, “Gross. We’re eating.”

─── MAY, 2011 ───

It has been two months since graduation, and only a month left until your board exams for physical therapy licensure. Of course, you’d both want to be licensed even though you’re going straight to medical school in September. 

“Love.” Satoru called for you, walking in the hallway of your apartment with two coffees in his hand. “I’m back.”

But no response from you. 

“YN?”

He walked towards the dining area where you both usually study—yes, you’re still studying. The board exams are looming over your head, even though you’ve wanted so badly to take a break—just a little bit more, you’ll get the rest that you needed, but not now.

Satoru turned to the corner towards the dining room, then he stopped just before he was to enter. There you are, slumped down at the dining table, your head resting on your arms. Papers are scattered everywhere, you were still holding some of the flashcards in your hands and some already fell on the table. 

He smiled, watching you—you looked so tired, and yet you’re still so beautiful. His eyes fell on your hand, the ring on your finger glinted under the lights. 

And it suddenly hit him, you’re his fiancée—soon, his wife. God, he gets to call you his wife. How lucky is he?

He walked towards you, carefully pulling the flashcards out of your hands then he pressed a soft kiss on your hair, you stirred a little but didn’t wake. Satoru chuckles and pries the stray strands of your hair away from your face. 

His heart is about to burst just looking at you. What have you done to me?

─── SEPTEMBER, 2014 ───

You stepped into the apartment that you share with Satoru. Your bag dropped carelessly near the table, your exhaustion weighing your body down—you feel like your knees are buckling everytime you walk.

A nice, cold shower would be nice right now—you badly wanted to scrub the hospital smell off you. But you think you’d pass out before you could hop into the shower.

Fuck. Third year of medical school is killing you—it’s all killing you, rounds, pre-rounds, assisting, endless fucking lectures. 

You wanted to collapse on the floor. Just stay there and not move. But even so, you drag yourself into the kitchen to get yourself a cup of cold water but the pile of dishes greets you—is it from yesterday? Or from the day before? You had no idea.

You closed your eyes, inhaling sharply. You clenched your fists and started working on it—washed the dishes, took out the trash, cleaned the counters and swept the floor. You could feel the irritation seep under your skin but you let it slide.

Don’t be mad, you told yourself. Because if you are tired then Satoru is too. 

Don’t start anything. You’re both exhausted.

Afterwards, you walked towards the living room then you saw him, sprawled on the couch with his scrubs still on. He looked so spent,  visible dark circles under his eyes because you both haven’t had a proper sleep in days. 

You can’t get mad, how can you when he looks like this? When you barely see each other? He was just there, in the same hospital you are—in the same space you are but he felt so far away. 

There was a sharp feeling crawling through your chest—irritation? Anger? Exhaustion? 

Maybe all of it but you composed yourself. You turned away to go to your bedroom, determined to take a shower and sleep it off. Maybe it’ll go away. It will.

You rummaged through your drawers, desperate for something decent to wear—but you stare at… nothing.

He promised. He. fucking. promised. You left a text, a post-it note, you reminded him when you bumped into him at the hospital but—god, he didn’t do it. 

All of it hit you at once—the frustration, exhaustion, anger, pain—all of it. It’s just laundry, it’s just fucking laundry but you slammed the drawer a little harder then necessary.

A loud thud echoing through the apartment. 

You just sat there on the floor, taking deep breaths until you heard his voice.

“Love?” you looked at him, his voice hoarse from sleep, “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? You wanted to laugh. 

“Nothing.” you muttered, standing up from the floor to go to the bathroom, Satoru followed you, still half-asleep, confused as to what was happening.

You don’t want to fight. You really don’t want to. 

You got the laundry bag from under the sink and started putting the dirty laundry in it—then Satoru muttered a curse—realizing just now that he was supposed to do that. He was supposed to take it to the laundry shop.

“I’m sorry.” he says, walking towards you. “I’ll do it, YN.”

But you didn’t budge, still putting in the laundry. He tried to pry the bag from you but you nudged him away a little harshly.

“I said I’ll do it—”

“Fine! Here!” you slammed it on the floor, your voice sharp—mad, tired. Just plain tired.

“I said I’m sorry. I forgot, I was so tired and I just passed out on the couch.”

“Just stop talking.” you muttered angrily, walking out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed, face pressed on your palms. But Satoru followed you, he crouched down to your level.

“I’m sorry, okay? I had a lot to do—I got caught up in rounds. It ran late and—”

“I don’t fucking care!” you shouted, “I’m tired too, Satoru! I’ve been standing all day. All fucking day! I’ve just finished a 12-hour shift! I’m tired, I’m hungry! I don’t fucking know what I feel anymore! I asked you to do one thing. Just one! Just one thing and you can’t even do it!”

Satoru stood up and took a sharp breath, his figure towering over you. His frustrations bubbling up to the surface, “I’m doing the best that I can, YN! You think you’re the only one who’s tired? Fuck. We’re just the same! I’m fucking exhausted, I just wanted a little bit of rest, was that so bad?!”

This is why you didn’t want to say anything. This is why you didn’t want to fight. 

Because you understood him. Because you knew and you still got mad. 

You hated the way everything was now. Was it supposed to be like this? Would it still be like this when you finished medical school—when you become actual doctors? 

Silence just took over the room—the weight of the things stirring into the atmosphere. Heavy, painful. 

Then you looked up at him and he was staring at you. With those eyes—with those damn blue eyes behind those pretty long lashes that you love so much. That you miss, that you crave for. 

And the next thing you knew his lips were crashing onto yours—hard, desperate, needy—you kissed him back, in the same wavelength, hungrily until breathless gasps replaced the heavy atmosphere, until your clothes were discarded on the floor.

Until your back hit the soft cushion, his figure towering over you again. Your fingers threading through his hair to yank him closer, until you could feel his skin pressed against yours. Until you could feel him inside you—thrusting hard, deep until your sanity was taken away from you that all you could say was his name like a broken player.

You moaned into his mouth when he pressed harder. “I love you,” he growled into your lips, “I fucking love you.”

—

“You still mad at me?” he mumbled, his fingers caressing your hair gently, you squirmed close to him, your head resting on his arm. 

“A little.” you whispered against his skin—too tired to speak, or to even open your eyes. You hear him chuckle, the vibrations travelling into his chest. “But I love you and that trumps it.”

“Good.” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. “Because if you hated me then I might’ve cried right now.”

You laughed—a real laugh, your first one in days. “You know I could never hate you. You’re too annoyingly handsome to hate—and I would hate to see you cry. It’ll break my heart.”

“Look at me, huh? I must be a real catch.” he chuckles, his arms tightening around you like he never wanted to let you go. Like he wanted to just stay in this moment and let the world outside of you cease to exist.

“Show-off.” you hummed lazily, sleep taking over you slowly. “Just shut up and sleep, Satoru.”

He moved slightly to pull you closer—your legs were tangled with each other, your breaths getting in sync as you both fell into slumber. But before sleep could consume you fully, you hear him mutter an ‘I love you.’

And just like that your fight vanished into thin air, your frustrations turned into quiet promises that no matter how hard it gets, you’ll always end up back into each other. 

 ─── NOVEMBER, 2014 ───

This was rare for you—no pre-rounds, no case studies to present with a doctor breathing down your neck for once. So you figured, it’d be a good idea to visit your fiancee in the peds floor—just to see him. 

Just so you could breathe even just for a minute.

You wandered through the quiet hallway, the lights buzzing softly. It was already late and there weren't many people in the hospital now, the only people that you see are the night shift nurses in their stations—doing something. You turned the corner to head for the Pediatrics Department when you saw him—in the dim hallway, his knees pressed to his chest, his face buried into his palm.

You don’t miss the way his shoulders shake, and then you hear it—a muffled sob. He wasn’t just crying—he was weeping, uncontrollable gasps coming out of his mouth. 

And your heart immediately sank.

Why was he crying? What’s wrong? You hated seeing him like this—you barely see him in this state because he doesn’t falter that easily, he’s the strongest person you know, and for him to fall apart like this? 

Your steps were light, careful—he didn’t even notice you were there until you called his name. “Satoru.”

He flinched a bit to the sound of your voice, his tear-filled eyes met yours—shock settling in briefly, you weren’t supposed to see him like this. But you crouched down in front of him, cradling his face in your hands. “What’s wrong, love?”

“He… didn’t make it.” he choked, the words heavy on his tongue, like he couldn’t get the words out. “He’s just a kid… he’s seven and he… stopped breathing. He just—and I couldn’t do anything. If I had been there earlier, if I… I didn’t save him—”

“Hey. Hey—no.” you say softly, pulling him in and he buried his face on the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping around you so tightly, “It wasn’t on you. It wasn’t your fault, my love.”

His sobs grew louder, holding onto you tight as if you’re the only one anchoring him to the ground. There was undeniable pain growing into your chest, like your heart was being clawed out and chopped up into pieces. You couldn’t bear seeing him like this, and you hated yourself because there’s nothing you could ever do to shield him from this kind of hurt.

Because that’s the reality the two of you chose. 

You pressed your lips on his hair, long and careful. Trying to ease the pain that he was feeling. You trace circles around his back, trying anything just to make sure he knows you’re here, that you are never going to leave him.

That you carry his burdens with him. 

─── APRIL, 2025 (PRESENT)  ───

“And you are officially late.” Satoru says with a hint of boredom in his voice, his back leaning against the wall near the nurses’ station.

Satoru didn’t miss the scowl on Megumi’s face, he looks at his watch. “We’re two minutes early. You said 8 am and it’s 7:58.”

“If I’m already here then you’re late already.” Satoru says, fixing his posture before looking at Yuji who is almost out of breath, he raises his eyebrow. “What’s his problem?”

Megumi’s face turned blank, “Made him run down the hall.”

Satoru almost snorted a laugh but he stopped himself. Megumi hasn’t changed a bit, huh? 

“Alright, brats. Let’s get this over with. I have a lot of things to do.”

Satoru walked with the chart in his hand, he strides through the hallway without even looking, like he knows this place like the back of his hand. Megumi and Yuji followed him, almost jogging just to keep up.

“Mr. Go, 64 years old, admitted after a minor stroke.” Satoru stops just outside the room and tosses the tablet to Megumi and the latter catches it without even blinking, Satoru shoves his hands inside his pocket. “Tell me what you see.”

Megumi skimmed down at the tablet, “Territory infarct, left MCA.”

“And what deficits do we expect when it’s the left MCA?” he asks, looking at Yuji’s direction. 

Yuji straightens up, “Contralateral weakness or numbness and what do you call—oh, aphasia and also, he could have difficulty in proper sequencing and memory loss as well.”

Satoru carefully looks at them—eyeing them meticulously then raises his eyebrow, “What about his vision?”

Megumi answers, “Loss of half of the visual field and his eyes deviate away from the hemiplegic side.” 

Satoru hummed, nodding. “Good. What’s our big concern?”

“If the patient develops a massive brain swelling or if there’s hemorrhagic transformation.”

“Alright,” he answered lazily, satisfied with their answers, then he started walking again. “I want frequent neuro checks, monitor for any change in his mental status—for everything, motor strength, speech. Watch for signs of increased intracranial pressure.”

He stops and looks back at them, “Be alert, CVA evolves fast. Patients can crash almost immediately and when any of that happens, you call me. Not your resident. Not anyone. Me. Got it?”

—

“I’m so fucking tired.” Shoko says as she dropped her tray down the table where you were sitting, you just snickered, already getting a fry from her plate. 

She plopped down on the chair like she owned the whole cafeteria. “Pity you.”

“Ha-ha.” she answered glaring at you, but she suddenly pushed forward, sitting properly. “How are you? By the way, I just checked on your patient before I got here. They’re doing fine. Nothing to worry about, you did a good job.”

You just hummed in response—relieved that what you did really saved her. You were about to speak when Ieiri smirks, staring at the figures walking towards you, “Looks like we have some company.”

“Huh?” you didn’t have any chance to look when you see two shadows looming over your table. 

It was Suguru with that blank look on his face and with him, your husband, with a fucking juice box in his hand. Your eyes flickered towards his busted lip and your chest aches just a little. 

“Mind if we join? Yes? Thanks.” Suguru says dryly, putting his tray down and pulls out the chair before the two of you could answer. Satoru, on the other hand, pulled the chair beside you, dropping his body on the chair, his legs sprawled out—knees bumping into yours. 

The contact sent currents all throughout your body but you didn’t move, didn’t even look at him—you just leaned your back on the chair. 

You stayed silent, pursing your lips and tried to look away. But your body betrays you—it’s like an instinct. He’s like a magnet that you couldn’t pry your eyes away from him.

Muttering a curse in your head, you glanced at him a bit—and he was looking at you, not even pretending. And so, you looked away. 

Fuck. What is happening? 

Shoko sipped loudly on her straw, smirking at the two of you. “Wow. That’s not awkward at all.”

If you could move your legs at all, you would’ve kicked her. 

Suguru bit on his sandwich and leaned forward propping his arm on the table, “You know if you think about it, it’s kind of funny.”

You raised your eyebrow at him. What… funny?

“Back in college and med school, you two are insufferable.”

“Fuck, right?!” Shoko added, “Constant heart eyes—giggling and whispering like you’re in middle school.”

They both laughed, and you could feel your cheeks heat up. You wanted to kill your friends, if only it’s not against the oath that you took. Lucky. 

You looked at Satoru again, there’s that smug grin on his face, completely unbothered—just sipping on his juice box. 

And somehow, everything fell into rhythm. For a moment the tightness in your chest loosened, the air felt easier to breathe. 

The four of you just sitting there—laughing about nothing and everything, talking about things that didn’t even matter. 

This is what you’ve missed for the past few months. Suguru and his stories, the way Shoko rolls her eyes but smiling anyway—and Satoru, his laugh that could make your heart leap in inexplicable ways.

It was just like this before, right? It has always been like this before. 

You didn’t realize you needed it until after now—after months of heartbreak and pain. Everything just felt right, everything just seemed so light even if it wasn't. Your shoulders don't feel so heavy anymore that you could laugh carelessly how much you wanted to.

“Oh my god. I heard about that. He really fell asleep?” Shoko asked once more and Suguru nodded—still pissed off. “I mean, wow.”

“Yeah, standing up. Mid-suture. God, I was so pissed off I almost yanked him out of the operating room.”

“He really leaned forward?!”

“Yeah. Almost fucking up the sterile field. I swear to God, he was testing my patience.”

You were still giggling when you felt it, his hands sliding under the table—his arm brushing against yours, your breath hitched for just a second. 

He wasn’t pushing you, he was just there—offering, taking a risk hoping that you’ll take it with him. Your instincts scream at you—you’re supposed to pull away, you’re supposed to push him away.

But your heart betrays you. Your hand laid above his, your fingers curling around in a perfect lock without any hesitations, holding it tight like it’s the most natural thing you do. 

You didn’t even need to look at him. You just know, he was smiling too.

Shoko stopped laughing for a moment, looking over your shoulder. “Uh-oh. Incoming.”

You blinked, then you glanced back. There they stand, just a few steps from your table like their feet are nailed to the ground. Nobara, clutching the tablet on her hands carefully, like she’s holding a bomb. All the while, Miwa, the poor girl, wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

You raised an eyebrow. They stood still.

Then your voice cuts into the silence.

“Are you going to stand there and just stare at me?” you laid out your free hand, “What do you need?”

Suguru immediately looked away, hiding a grin behind his knuckles. Shoko watched the scene unfold with an amused smile—well, also with a little bit of pity. While Satoru just coughed into his drink—also hiding a grin.

The three of them exchanged glances for a brief second. Exchanging one of those, oh shit, looks. You almost looked and sounded like your old professors back then. You know? Those attending breathing down on your necks.

They moved forward, in sync, and you almost laughed. Nobara’s gaze flickers down slightly—under the table, where your fingers are intertwined with your husband’s. 

She looked away and cleared her throat, placing the tablet on your palm.  “Here’s the labs you asked for, Dr. Gojo.”

“CBC, CMP and cardiac enzymes just uploaded.” 

“Good.” you say, scrolling the tablet with your thumb without sparing her a glance. “Tell them to repeat troponin tests in six hours. You can go.”

“Yes, Dr. Gojo.” Miwa says and they scrambled away almost immediately causing the three doctors to burst out laughing and you stay unfazed.

“God, you’re scary. I’m having war flashbacks.” Shoko says, wiping the tears from her eyes.  “Did you see them flinch when you blinked?”

You sipped your drink calmly, not minding their laughter. And the next words you say only made them burst out harder. “Excuse me. I’m literally the nicest one here.”

You purse your lips—glaring at Satoru, squeezing your husband’s hand for laughing too hard. But he just scrunched his nose and gave you a cheeky smile. 

And in this moment—even just for a short while, you were back where you were supposed to be. 

Right there in the safest place you knew.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

I Kissed A Girl

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1k (including lyrics)

Warnings: high sexual tension

Summary: You go to the club and unwind from a stressful week, not knowing you’re going to try something you end up liking more than your boyfriend.

Square Filled: a round a firsts for @womenofmarvelbingo (previously @blackwidowbingo)

Author’s Note: this is based on the song I Kissed A Girl By Katy Perry

x

This was never the way I planned Not my intention I got so brave, drink in hand Lost my discretion It's not what I'm used to Just wanna try you on I'm curious for you Caught my attention

You grab your fourth drink from the tray and enjoy the burn as you toss the shot back. It’s the end of the week, and what better way to unwind than to be out with your girls at the club? It’s not even work that has you stressed, it’s your boyfriend. He’s treating you more like his mom rather than his girlfriend. It’s exhausting and takes a real toll on your body.

“So, what’s the latest Theodore drama?” your best friend, Harper, asks.

“Well, I was supposed to hang with him tonight, but he decided to blow me off for his ‘boys’. I don’t know, I haven’t seen him in a month. We text, but it’s bland. It’s like all the effort with him has disappeared.”

“Dump his ass!” Violet, your other friend, yells over the loud music.

“Seriously, he’s such a loser,” Luna agrees.

“Maybe I should. There’s no spark anymore. He’s a good boyfriend if you don’t count the way he doesn’t put me first.”

“That’s not a good boyfriend,” Harper says. She grabs another drink from the fifth round and hands one to you. “Here, have a shot. You need to loosen up more.”

‘You’re just trying to get me drunk,” you laugh but take the drink anyway.

“That’s true.”

“Well, I need to go to the bathroom. Be right back!”

You down the shot before pushign your way through the crowd. You’re already buzzed, so it seems like there are more people in the crowd than there actually are. On your way back, you notice a woman dancing by herself in the middle of the dance floor. Men try to get her to dance with them, but she ignores them and continues to feel herself up. She looks so beautiful, you can’t pass her and not dance with her.

“Care for a partner?” you ask.

“Sure,” she grins.

“You here by yourself?”

“Well, not anymore,” she flirts.

You’ve never flirted with a woman before. You’ve only ever had boyfriends. This is something completely new to you, and you’re not upset about it. You step out of your comfort zone and start to dance with her to the beat of the music.

Her lips are cherry red, and you find yourself thinking what it would be like to kiss them.

No, I don't even know your name It doesn't matter You're my experimental game Just human nature It's not what good girls do Not how they should behave My head gets so confused Hard to obey

You don’t know her name, and you honestly don’t want to know it. You just want to be in the moment and enjoy the feelings she’s pulling out of you. Like how it feels really good to dance with her, to have her attention on you. You pull her closer to you so you can speak closer to her ear.

“Can I buy you another drink?”

“Sure,” she smiles.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

You make your way back to the bar where your friend sare at. They have a direct line of sight to you on the dance floor, and they’re no less than shocked.

“What are you doing?” Luna asks.

“I honestly have no idea. I have no clue what her name is, and if I’m being completely honest, I kind of want to kiss her.”

“Go for it,” Harper encourages. “Fuck Theodore. He’s not here.”

“You know what? Hell yeah. I’m going to go for it.”

You grab two drinks once they’re ready and head back over to the stranger. Natasha came here to unwind from a grueling work week. She never expected to meet someone, much less meet a woman. She’s always used her body to seduce men for intel and other things she’s needed. She’s never once envisioned herself with a woman until you showed up.

“Here you go,” you say when you reach her.

“Thank you.”

Natasha downs the drink in one go, but some of the liquid drips out of her mouth. You watch the drop of alcohol slide down her jaw, down her neck, and disappear into her cleavage. Fuck. You shouldn’t be thinking such dirty thoughts about anyone, especially since you have a boyfriend. 

Still, that’s not enough to stop you.

Us girls, we are so magical Soft skin, red lips, so kissable Hard to resist, so touchable Too good to deny it Ain't no big deal, it's innocent

The beat of the music rushes through your veins, and you pull Natasha closer to you. She grabs your hips and moves them along yours in tune with the beat. Your eyes are hooded, with your gaze on her lush red lips. So kissable. She’s hard to resist, so you wrap your arms around her neck and press yourself closer to her.

Her eyes meet yours, and you can see the want, the need, inside of them. It looks like she wants this as much as you do, so you throw all fucks out the window and go for it.

I kissed a girl and I liked it The taste of her cherry chapstick I kissed a girl just to try it I hope my boyfriend don't mind it It felt so wrong, it felt so right Don't mean I'm in love tonight I kissed a girl and I liked it I liked it

You lean in and press your lips to hers delicately just in case you got this whole thing wrong. However, she doesn’t pull away from you. She deepens the kiss when she tilts her head to the right, and she swipes her tongue over your lower lip. The second your tongue touches her, it’s like a spark goes off.

The spark you’re missing with Theodore. Maybe it’s not him. Maybe it’s because he’s a him and not a her. Fuck Theodore. You’re giving this night to yourself. Falling in love isn’t on the cards for tonight, but you’re going to go home later and know what it’s like to kiss a woman, this woman.

Natasha pulls away from you and whispers something in your ear, but you’re too drunk to understand what she’s saying. You watch her walk toward the bathroom, and you grin at the taste of her cherry chapstick.

Fuck, you kind of liked it.

x

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[pollsnatural]

For the people who wanted elaboration (do I need to tag them? idk). Part 1 (there's a lot).

Bedlund - he said it on one of the cons. "And Supernatural, in fact, going there was, it felt like a place where I had to actually, um, learn to be kind of manly. I felt like I had to kind of change my, like, way of speaking for a little bit, just to kind of fit in, oddly enough. Which was weird." (took the quote from this post, it also has a link to the video from the con)

The rest is under the "read more".

Sera Gamble - she had a weird weird relationship with the cast during s7. There was a video (the timestamp - 4:50, if you want to see Misha being upset and awkwardly answering a question about Cas' role in the season - 3:00) from one of the cons from the time where Jensen seems to be genuinely pissed at her for presumably firing Misha. The con took place before s7 airing, and she was asked if Cas would play a major role there. Sera gave a vague answer not to spoil anything ("We love Misha, but we can't say anything blah blah"). Jensen added a snide remark to her answer ("Such an informative answer!" - heavy sarcasm). So. Yeah.

The other thing was the shooting of 7x17. You see, the script was a little different when they started shooting (there was even a promo that had lines from the old vesion from the script). But Jensen, Misha and Rob Singer decided that it was too "unmanly" (Jensen tried to replace the word "gay" with "unmanly"), too ridiculous. They changed the script to be a little less gay (although they still thought the entire scene was too gay, but they couldn't do anything about that bc it was a scene important to the plot). Jensen and Misha even allowed themselves to laugh at the scene at the con showing terrible disrespect towards Sera (I don't remember them laughing at any writer like they laughed at Sera/also before watching the linked videos prepare for horrifying experience). Jensen insinuated that the scene was written that way because it was written by the "girl" (Jensen's quote btw) 😐

The way Misha was treated on set - I shouldn't explain this, right? Everyone knows that (delusional). Well. Where do I start. He was forced to film while being incredibly sick (Jensen had to step in and convince the crew to continue shooting on the next day) [source]. He had an emotional breakdown when he was directing the episode bc Jared and Jensen kept pranking him (they'd torn his version of the script with the director's notes, luckily Misha had a copy) [source from 2:00, and this post about pranking]. He was being harassed to get back on set when his wife was in (long and difficult) labor even though he asked them in advance to give him a few free days for this (and they agreed but seemingly forgot about it). They pressured Misha to convince his wife to agree to the c-section just so he could return to the work [source]. Misha was told "You're not going to be on of those actors, are you?" by Singer when he tried to ask details about his own character [source, but tbf Singer said it to Jensen and Rob as well]. Lots of casual homophobia towards him on set (idk what to link here bc there're too many instances).

Misha's political views when he was younger - it's more based on vibes than evidence. Younger Misha seemed to be more outspoken about his politics. He criticized things he thought were morally wrong even when it could hurt his job (and it did hurt his job). I remember seeing the interview from 2009 where he was like "Yeah, the way they treat women in this show sucks", and everyone else looked uncomfortable af. I can be wrong, but it seems to me that he was leaning left more heavily. Now, he tries to speak more carefully. Tries to avoid controversial political positions. Idk. Young Misha, his early interviews, his diaries from college just seem interesting to me, that's all.

Jared comparing Cas' love confession to his love for his son - probably I phrased it more dramatically than needed. It was the first live con after the lockdown, denvercon, 2021. Jensen got asked a question “When did you know Cas was in love with Dean?”. Jensen said that Dean didn't know until the very end, and then Jared came in with a huge rant how the confession wasn't romantic, how the angels are junkless. At one point he said this:

The post with full transcript and link to the video is here. Jensen's reaction to it is heavily debated. One side thinks that Jensen fully agreed with Jared. The other side thinks that he was doing damage control and was really pissed at Jared. Idk where I stand tbh. Depends on the mood.

*to it)

Edit: Jensen screaming happened during filming of 15x19, not 15x18.

[readerihardlyknowher]

In Every Universe | Pt. 7

Fanfic-ception?

Spencer Agnew x Reader Warnings: None WC: 2,116 Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6, Pt. 7

“Oh, hello all and welcome back to Smosh Pit Theater!” Angela announces as the narrator this time, “Now, we’re gonna be doing another one of our favorites – and your guys’ too – fanfictions, and let me tell you guys before we start, I heard the crew snickering while reading some of them over, so this should be good.”

She takes out the first script and holds it up to read. You try to glance over her shoulder to see who’s in the fic, but her hands are too shaky to see properly.

“Okay, first story! It’s called ‘Five Nights at Smosh’ by Smoshbadussy. I think I’ll have Chanse playing Tommy–”

“–Wow, Angela, making me play the only other gay one here.”

“Shut up! Courtney will play me, Shayne will play Amanda, and Y/n will play… Freddy Fazbear. Spencer, you and I can watch and narrate. Okay! Now let the scene begin!”

You take your script from Angela, briefly glancing over the first line to see who’s in the scene starting off, seeing that you (or well, Arasha) aren’t in the scene yet, so you step beside the curtain, not taking center stage and adjusting your black turtleneck which you haven’t worn since the last Smosh Pit Theater episode. It is late summer in LA after all, and you were thanking god for AC at this moment. As the scene begins, however, you watch as Chanse and Courtney stand next to each other, acting out the scene which you read.

“Man,” Courtney begins, “that was a great crying session! Glad we’ve got the crying bathroom here.”

“Totally!” Chanse’s voice replies. “I don’t even know how long we were in there for!”

Angela narrates the scene as Shayne (as Amanda) steps into the scene and gasps.

“There you two are!” Shayne does a terrible Amanda impression as he speaks. “I had to stay behind to try and find you! Everyone else left! We’re locked in!”

You and the rest of the cast do dramatic gasps. Deciding to read ahead, you see that Freddy doesn’t show up for a while, just doing sounds in the background for most of the beginning. You try to keep your eyes on the three of your castmates, but your eyes wander as they always do, and where do they land again? Spencer fucking Agnew. You don’t even notice that you’re staring until his eyes meet yours. Neither of you move, not looking away, not until he shoots you a cute wink and looking back at the performing cast. This causes you to look away as well, trying to remember that you’re on camera. Though, as the crew is very nice, they’ll likely just edit it so that you’re out of frame for that, which you already mostly are.

The time comes for you to enter in the scene, so you do as the script reads, sneaking up behind the three of them all huddled together. After about a beat, you jump up and “attack” Courtney before you get pushed off and stand to the side. You look down to see your line, only to stutter out a laugh as you read it.

“Roh roh roh roh roh.” The rest of the cast found the line just as amusing as you did, and you all take a moment for a confused laugh, before Shayne speaks as Amanda.

“Uh, guys, I think that’s Freddy Fuzzbear.”

“It’s not Fuzzbear, Amanda!” Chanse yells. All three pretend to run, and you pretend to chase, before you get to center stage and continue the stupidly dramatic scene. Eventually, it ends with you as Freddy killing Angela while the other two escape, which makes the real Angela upset, of course. The scene ends finally and you head back to the chairs you were at before, turning your head to smile over at Spencer.

“Did I do good?” Your still giggly voice asks. His lips part into that iconic smile of his.

“Absolutely perfect,” he replies. Your eyes are drawn to Shayne, who has now taken the next set of scripts and will be doing the casting. You watch from behind and to the side as his face lights up with shock.

“Okay. This one is called ‘April 2nd’ and it’s by Y/s/n-luvr.” You and Spencer shoot each other a familiar, yet not unpleasant expression. “Let’s have Y/n playing herself, and Spencer playing himself, Chanse will play Damien, Courtney as Amanda, and then Angela will play the priest in this story.”

You and Spencer now look confused. A priest? April 2nd? What could that mean? Your eyes narrow as you walk on stage, all of you standing in a half-circle, facing towards the camera. The scene is that you’re on Smosh Games playing together. Looking down at your script you read your line.

“Damn it, Spence, you’re wiping the floor with us! At least give me a chance to win!”

“Yeah,” Chanse says, making his voice deeper to mimic Damien. “Who knew you’d be this good at the game of life?” It’s silent as we wait for Shayne to read his next line.

“Spencer’s eyes darted around, purposefully avoiding Y/n’s.”

Spencer does as the script says, playing up the nervousness a little, before looking down at his script and reading.

“Guys, I told you I’m a gamer. Anyways, Y/n, it’s your turn.”

“Y/n’s hand reaches the spinner on the table, flicking it, moving her car forward, before pulling the card on top of the pile. Once she sees what it says, her face shrivels up in confusion.”

You perform the actions with a perfect amount of stage exaggeration, pretending to pull the card before reading your script.

“‘Will you marry me?’ I didn’t know that was a card in here.”

“Spencer steps out from behind the table, before kneeling down in front of it on one knee.”

“It isn’t, babe. I uh… I wanted to propose to you doing something we both love, playing games together.”

Your face heats up in embarrassment. Someone wrote a whole fanfic about Spencer proposing to you. And now he’s in front of you, acting it out, with all of your friends/coworkers watching with glee.

“So,” his voice cuts through your thoughts. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, Spence! I never thought you’d ask!”

“Y/n jumps into Spencer’s arms in a warm and firm embrace, Damien and Amanda cheering, especially Amanda.”

You look over at Spencer, wondering how you should approach the hug. You’re certainly not going to be jumping into his arms as the script says, even if his cutely red face makes you want to do so. So instead you go for the classic side hug, perfect for on-camera romance. You figure the scene must be over now, so become confused once Shayne calls for everyone to get in place for the next positions. Shayne’s booming voice announces that today’s the day of the wedding, and you two are holding it with the Smosh cast and crew.

You gulp down the excitement/anxiety in your throat and wait to the side as the script indicates that you’re not in the scene yet again. You watch from the side as Spencer stands, waiting for you, and Shayne reads out how he’s patiently watching as you begin to walk down the aisle. Rolling your eyes, you do as the script says, rolling yours up to pretend it’s a bouquet. You try to avoid Spencer’s eyes, but fail as you see him wiping a fake teat, which makes you let out a chuckle.

As you finish your walk down the “aisle”, you stand in front of Spencer, holding your hands out as he takes them in his warm, soft ones. You say, “this feels familiar” off-script, which gets a few laughs. A soft smile is present on his face, he waits for a moment, seeming to forget about the whole idea that you’re acting out a scene, before he scrambles to pull out his script.

“Y/n, ever since I first saw you in your interview here at Smosh, I knew you were the one for me. Your laugh brightens my day, your eyes light up every room you’re in. I couldn’t have asked for a better wife. I’m so happy to officially get to call you that. I can’t wait to play videogames and watch movies with you for the rest of my life.”

You place your hand on your heart as he reads, genuinely touched by 1. The fact that someone wrote something so sweet, and 2. The fact that Spencer’s reading it out loud to you so sweetly. The look he gives you shows that while those aren’t his original words, he does mean all the kind things he’s saying, and it only adds to the tightness you’ve been feeling in your chest. Pulling in a deep breath, you look at your part of the script.

“Spencer, you’re my best friend, the love of my life, and now my actual husband–” you see the next line so you turn to look at the camera with a serious expression on your face. “Guys, don’t clip this.” Turning back to the script, you take a deep breath, before pushing the words out far too seriously than you’ve ever said the words before. “And I love you.”

“Woo!”

You shoot a glare to Chanse, before resuming your line.

“And I’ll be happy to listen to you yap about old Nintendo games until the day I die.”

“Now,” Angela’s voice softens the blow after what you said, making you feel a little less awkward having read all that out loud. “Charles Spencer Agnew, do you take Y/n (M/n) L/n to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The silly, relaxed smile spreads even wider across his face, the sight making your own body relax.

“I do.”

“And Y/n (M/n) L/n, do you take Charles Spencer Agnew to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Your own smile broadens as you don’t even need to glance down at your script.

“I do.”

“Then I hereby pronounce you as man and wife. You may now kiss.”

Shoot, you had forgotten about this, but one look at Spencer’s mischievous smile says all that you need. As the cast and crew around you clap at the scene, you both ever so slowly lean into one another, eyes closing, and just when you know people will wonder if you’ll actually do it, you pull back, pointing to the camera with a smile plastered on your face.

“Got your asses! No more ship material for you! You've had enough!”

Both Chanse and Courtney groan at the psych-out, before you all come back to the chairs and sit together for the recap of everyone’s thoughts. Shayne turns to Spencer to speak first.

“So Spencer, would you ever propose to someone on Smosh games?”

Spencer shakes his head, somehow looking all too calm at this moment. You’re certain the comments later will be noticing how you look a little too nervous from all that.

“I wouldn’t do half of the things in this story, especially not a public proposal. Keep that shit private.” Everyone, including him, chuckles at this statement, before he speaks again. “Also, I definitely wouldn’t invite you guys to our wedding.”

Our wedding.

No one seems to notice the phrasing as they all laugh, and you join in as well as to not stand out on camera. You decide to chime in a little so as to not seem too quiet.

“Also, we didn’t meet during my interview, we met officially like two weeks later. We were both a little nervous to talk to new people at first since it was such a new job and we didn’t want to screw it up.” Spencer nods and puts his finger up to make a point while looking over at you.

“While that is true, that doesn’t mean that I didn’t see you before that and fall absolutely head over heels at first glance, which is something I'd clearly do.”

You roll your eyes at his statement. You know he’s just trying to stir the pot some more and banter with you, but at this moment, you’re still a little overwhelmed with the whole getting married in character as just the two of you. But you’re glad to know that the next fanfiction is getting pulled up and neither you, nor you as a character, are in it, so you’re happy to just sit back and watch, seeing your friends do a silly little scene that someone wrote about you guys. Even if yours and Spencer’s eyes meet a few times throughout in a way which makes you strangely nervous, you feel happy, and even happier when the video finally ends.

Tag list: @lisiliely, aliceblxck, burrowedinnature77, 65percentleg

[ichorai]

chiropterology — knight in shining kevlar.

drabble synopsis ; batman forgets to turn off his comms. warnings ; sexually suggestive.

series masterlist.

Gotham was a murky city. Polluted smog crept through the alleys, too thick to be water vapor, but too thin to be dangerous to inhale. Just terrible enough to survive. The streets were fissured, walls graffitied, and lights constantly flickering. 

Your shoes echoed pattering noises as you hurried down the puddle-strewn sidewalks. Being out this late was something you often tried to avoid, as it was practically begging for someone to come and mug, kidnap, or shiv you in the guts. You’d lost track of time while helping Tim “gather intel” on a few criminals, which was really just stalking, but you were nothing if not supportive of your son.

As you turned into a rather dark and dreary, but empty pathway between two run-down buildings, having taken this path a million times through the city to get to the manor, you suddenly heard a familiar whoosh-and-thud noise behind you.

A grin twisted the corners of your lips.

“You shouldn’t be here,” said Batman, his cape and mask casting an intimidating shadow onto the side of the building, voice deep and gravelly. You understood why so many civilians were terrified of him; if you hadn’t known that was your husband under that cowl, you would be, too.

“I’m getting deja vu,” you hummed, drawing closer with a smile and raising a finger to slot beneath his stubbled chin. “Except—last time you landed on top of me instead of behind me. I'm glad you've improved your aim.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” he susurrated, making a pleasant tremor dance along your spine, like a spider skittering up a wall. Bruce began to step forward, crowding you behind a rusty metal fire escape. “You’d like it if I landed on top of you again.”

“Mmh, Batman,” you protested, a laugh edging into your tone. “I’m a married woman.”

The uncovered half of Bruce’s face twitched with amusement. He watched the way your chest rose and fell, your pupils dilating with want, kindling excitement behind his ribs.

“Are you going to hurt me?” you whispered, breathless, tugging on his chest plates with two fingers, pulling him even closer.

“Not if you play nice. Unless you want me to…” growled Bruce, the tip of his nose brushing your cheek, lips only a hair’s breadth from yours—

“DEAR GOD, MAKE IT STOP!” a tinny voice screamed so loud that you could hear it clear as day from Bruce’s mask. Both you and Bruce violently flinched at the interruption. 

“Is that—Spoiler?” you whispered, eyes cartoonishly owlish.

Bruce looked genuinely shaken as another voice awkwardly said, “Hey, Bats. Oracle here. You kinda… left your comm lines open.”

There was a long pause, Bruce quietly asking, “How many of them heard that?”

“Uhm… all of them?” came Oracle’s apologetic response.

“I need bleach!” shrieked Stephanie. “For my ears!”

“Please, someone call Black Canary so she can blow my eardrums,” Tim lamented. 

“Someone kill me again,” Jason groveled. 

“I do not understand,” Damian’s voice added on to the chaos. “Why would she think Batman would hurt her?”

This ensued another round of terrified howling. Bruce drooped at the sound of his kids screaming in his ear. He leaned against you as you started giggling, shoulders shaking with the effort of muffling your snorts. 

“Cutting your comm line,” Barbara said, though not without a laugh in her own voice.

“So—we can never go home now,” you said, looking none too troubled by the thought. “This is a great time to tell you that I’ve been working on one of those miniature boats, you know the useless ones that are always trapped in the glass display bottles, and I was thinking I’d take my shrink ray and reverse-engineer it to make things bigger and—”

Bats sank further into your touch, effectively shutting you up. You ignored his sharp armor poking at your stomach. “The kids are never going to let us live this down.”

“Honey,” you chortled, cupping his face in your hands and forcing him to face you. “Forget the kids—I’m never going to let you live this down.”

This only made Bruce curl into you further with embarrassment. You began to laugh so hard that tears sprung into your eyes. “This isn’t funny. I’m going to have to go into hiding.” Well, it was clear where Dick got his dramatic side from. 

As you recovered from your fit of giggles, you wiped a stray tear away, still chuckling to yourself. “Chin up, Batsy! On the bright side, at least this’ll spook them into giving us more time alone.” 

Bruce merely grunted at that, still looking unhappy, reminding you of a drenched cat that had been forced to have a bath. “Hn. I guess so.”

You leaned forward to press a kiss against his exposed jaw. “Now stop sulking and take me home. My knight in… shining kevlar.”

“Hn.” One of Bruce’s arms wound around your waist as he produced a grappling hook from his utility belt. “Hold on tight.”

[kakashisacademia]

pairing: satoru x you | warnings: none

summary; after leaving the jujutsu high three years ago you’re finally back and Satoru struggles with the feelings he develops for you

a/n: the whole fanfiction is written from Satoru’s POV

Chapter 2: the distance between us only grows smaller

Satoru should have said no to the mission.

The second Yaga handed him the file, the second he said, “you and her will handle it”, Satoru should have thrown up every wall he had.

Instead he smiled. Made some stupid joke about being the ‘dream team‘. Pretended his pulse hadn’t spiked like a curse was already sinking its teeth into him.

Now here they were, two hours into a silent car ride, rain hammering the windows, her curled in the passenger seat, tapping her fingers absently against her thigh.

Every movement, every breath she took, it scraped against his nerves raw and bloody.

Satoru kept his eyes on the road. White-knuckled the steering wheel like it would stop his hands from shaking.

Say something, idiot. Make a joke. Make her laugh.

But he couldn’t.

Because every time he looked at her, the curve of her jaw in the shifting gray light, the way her hair kept falling into her eyes, all he could think about was how goddamn grown she was.

And how fucking wrong it was to notice it.

“You’re quiet,” she said finally, voice soft, pulling him back from the cliff edge he didn’t realize he was standing on.

He risked a glance sideways.

She was smiling, small and tentative, like she wasn’t sure if it was still allowed.

“I’m always quiet,” Satoru lied.

She laughed under her breath. “Since when?”

The sound of it cracked something open inside him. He gripped the wheel tighter.

“If I start talking, you might realize I got even more annoying with age,” Satoru said, forcing a smirk.

“You could never,” she said, like it was obvious, like it was true, and turned back to the window before he could see whatever emotion flickered across her face.

He stared at her a second longer than he should have. Long enough to memorize the way the light traced the line of her nose, the soft curve of her mouth. Long enough to imagine, just for a second, reaching across the console and tucking that stray strand of hair behind her ear.

His throat tightened.

He turned the radio on - static, the only thing loud enough to drown out the thoughts clawing through his skull.

They made it to the town just before sunset.

The mission itself was easy. Too easy. Small curse infestation at an abandoned building. Basic clean-up job.

He should have been grateful.

Instead he hated it. Hated how it put her in danger at all.

Even if she fought like hell. Even if she was stronger than he remembered, every flicker of cursed energy near her made his heart stop in his chest.

When it was done, she wiped her blade clean on the hem of her shirt, cheeks flushed from exertion, hair sticking to her temples.

She caught him staring. Raised an eyebrow.

“What?” she asked, breathless.

Satoru shook his head, too quickly. “Nothing. Good job, rookie.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. And he felt that stupid, dangerous heat bloom in his chest again.

They headed back toward the main road, rain starting up again, heavier this time.

The inn Yaga had booked for them was tiny. A half-forgotten place on the edge of town.

Warm yellow lights, creaking floors, the smell of old wood and rain soaked into the walls.

The old woman behind the counter smiled at them with a few missing teeth and said the words that would haunt him for the rest of the night.

“Only one room left.”

Satoru opened my mouth, ready to protest, to demand a second room, a closet, a damn tent. But she was already handing over the key, chatting about how lucky they were to get a place at all during the festival weekend.

Satoru glanced at her.

She shrugged, like it didn’t bother her.

Like it wasn’t killing him on the inside.

They made their way upstairs, ancient wooden steps creaking under our feet, and found the room at the end of the hall. The door stuck when he tried to open it. Because of course it did.

She laughed softly behind him, and it hit him like a fucking bullet how good it felt to hear her laugh, even if he was falling apart inside.

Inside, the room was small. One bed. Faded curtains.An old desk shoved against the wall. A radiator rattling in the corner.

She set her bag down by the chair, stretching her arms over her head.

The hem of her shirt lifted, just a sliver, just enough to show the soft skin of her stomach.

Just enough to ruin him.

Satoru turned away so fast he almost tripped over the chair.

“I’ll take the floor,” he said too quickly, voice rough.

She paused. He felt her eyes on my back, warm, questioning, burning through him.

“Satoru,” she said. And god, hearing her say his name like that, soft and familiar and nothing like the way the students said it, made his knees weak. “Satoru, it’s fine. The bed’s big enough.”

He laughed, sharp and brittle, the sound of a man coming apart at the seams.

“Trust me,” he said. “It’s not about space.”

Silence stretched between them.

He heard her sigh, soft and tired and full of something he couldn’t name, and when he finally found the courage to turn around, she was already pulling the comforter and a spare pillow off the bed and tossing them at him.

“Suit yourself,” she said, trying for casual.

But he saw it, the hurt flickering behind her eyes.

And it broke him.

He slept on the floor. Or at least he tried to.

The wood was hard, the radiator clanked all night, and every time she shifted in the bed above him, his heart jumped like a curse was breathing down his neck.

At some point, near dawn, he heard her whimper in her sleep.

Small. Pained.

Satoru sat up so fast his vision blurred.

She twisted under the blanket, mumbling and breathing too fast.

A nightmare.

Without thinking, he was on his knees beside the bed, reaching out, hand hovering above her shoulder, not sure if he should wake her, not sure if he could touch her without breaking everything.

But she turned her face toward him. Even half-asleep, even trapped in some dream and whispered, “Don’t go.”

And that was it.

That was the moment.

He slid onto the edge of the bed, slow, careful, like any sudden move might shatter the whole fragile world between them.

He brushed the hair from her forehead, light as a breath, and she leaned into the touch without waking.

His hand trembled.

God, Satoru wanted…

He wanted everything.

He wanted to press his mouth to her temple.

He wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go.

He wanted to give her every piece of him he had kept locked away all these years.

She blinked up at him, groggy, confused, and for one terrifying, beautiful moment, their eyes met.

Her hand found his and curled around it. Slow, tentative.

He should have pulled away. He should have run.

Instead he leaned in, helpless and aching, until their faces were inches apart. Her breath ghosted over his lips soft, warm and so real.

He saw it then in her eyes the same longing. The same fear. The same desperation to not be the only one breaking.

Her fingers tightened around his like a question.

And before he could stop myself, before he could think about consequences or guilt or the years that separated them, he started to close the distance.

Inches. Breaths.

Close enough that he could taste the salt of her skin. Close enough that he could feel her heartbeat hammering against his. Close enough to lose everything.

And just as our lips brushed, just as the world tilted toward something unstoppable-

A knock slammed against the door.

They jerked apart like they had been burned. Breathing hard, shattered.

“Mission update!” someone called from the hallway. “Emergency meeting downstairs!”

Satoru stared at her, wide-eyed, wrecked. And she stared back, cheeks flushed, hand still tangled in Satoru’s.

Neither of them moved. Neither of them could.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Crimson Ties ~ 13

CRIMSON TIES MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,670ish

Summary: The Stark's get together to make sure Obadiah understands that he has crossed a line.

Warning(s): sexual talk and touching, non-consensual touching, bruises, abuse

Notes: Honestly, it’s just going to get worse before it gets better. Please send in ideas, reactions, etc!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

The doors swung open with a bang as Tony rushed into the house. His eyes were scanning for any sight or sound of you. Steve hadn’t told Tony why they needed to hurry back, but Tony knew it had something to do with you. He wasn’t used to being concerned about someone like this. It was pushing him way out of his comfort zone. Finally, Tony caught sight of Yelena and Clint outside on the porch. Steve followed Tony out there.

“Where is she?” Tony immediately asked. 

“She’s reading under the tree over there,” Clint answered, his head motioning towards you.

Tony’s eyes snapped over to see you sitting on a blanket, leaning up against the large tree in the corner. You had a book in your hands but, even from where Tony was standing, he could see that you weren’t really focused on it.

“What happened?” Steve wondered.

“It’s my fault,” Yelena admitted. “I was too busy on the phone with Natasha. Obadiah walked in and headed straight for her studio.” Tony’s eyes never left you as his body tensed at Yelena’s explanation. “He… He threatened her and…”

“And what?”

“Slapped her.”

Tony’s head snapped in Yelena’s direction, eyes wild. “What?” The single word came out sharp and quiet.

“I watched the video footage,” Clint added. “He wants her to find a way to get Brock into the house. She tried to tell him no and he slapped her. Stane is a complete idiot for thinking that there were cameras in there.”

“How is Y/N doing?” Steve wondered.

“She hasn’t said a word,” Yelena sighed. “I’m worried that she’s scared to say anything after that.”

“Well, everyone’s on their way, including Howard and Maria. We’ll come up with a plan to make sure Obadiah isn’t allowed to come near her again.”

“When they arrive, have them go to my office,” Tony stated. “I also want a surveillance detail on every moment Stane and his employees make. I’ll join you all when I’m done.”

Tony stepped off the porch and headed for you. He made sure that his footsteps were loud enough to for you to hear him coming but not to scare you. The closer he got to you, the more he could see the bruise along your face. Tony hated that your own father did that to you. He may not like his own father, but Howard never laid a hand on him. Tony stopped at the edge of the blanket. He stuffed his hands in his pant pockets.

Noticing Tony, you shakily set your book in your lap and angled your head in a way to try to conceal the bruise from Tony’s eyes. You remained silent, trying to ignore the growing pressure inside of you. Tony didn’t have the words to say anything. There wasn’t anything that could fix what’s been done. With a sigh, he got onto the ground beside your blanket and laid down. You blinked at him, confused. Tony’s eyes focused on the clouds slowly moving across the sky.

“I don’t remember the last time I laid down and watched the clouds,” Tony said quietly. You glanced up at the sky through the tree branches. “It’s peaceful.” You pushed yourself off the tree and slid onto the ground, mirroring Tony’s position.

Back over on the porch, Steve, Yelena, and Clint were watching the scene unfold in front of him.

“We got here as fast as we could,” Maria said, hurrying to them with Howard, Rhodey, Peggy, Bucky, and Natasha. “Is she okay? Is she—“ Her worries died on her tongue as she saw you and Tony laying next to each other across the yard. 

“Tony’s trying to handle it right now,” explained Steve. “He would like us to start in his office.”

“Then let’s go,” Howard muttered, leading the way to Tony’s office.

You and Tony laid in silence, alone in the backyard. Tears filled your eyes and slipped down your cheeks. Tony turned his head to see your cheeks glistening with tears. He hated this for you and had no clue how he could make this better.

“I’m sorry,” Tony whispered. “How can I fix this? What can I do for you?”

“I don’t need anything,” you said softly, keeping your eyes on the sky.

“Y/N…”

“I’m fine. It’s okay.”

Tony scoffed, quickly sitting up to look down at you. “No, it’s not. I can’t— You can’t—“ He sighed, trying to collect his thoughts. “It’s not okay for you to be treated this way, by anyone… Including me and your father.”

“I…” You swallowed the growing emotions. “I don’t know any different…”

“That’s going to change. I’m going to change and I will make sure that your father and Rumlow will never go near you again.”

“You don’t know what you’re promising. They will do anything to get what they want. And I truly mean anything.”

“I don’t care. You deserve to be free of this.”

You shook your head. “They’ll get what they want in the end. They always do.”

“Y/N…” Your name rolled of his tongue like a prayer, causing your eyes to snap to his. “I will protect you.”

In this eyes, you could see that he was being sincere. But you knew what your father and his resources were capable of. Tony hated every bit of this. He glanced back at the house and then back at you. The others were waiting for him, but he couldn’t leave you out here alone.

“We need to go inside,” Tony said quietly. 

“Okay,” you whispered.

You stood up and stepped off the blanket. Tony quickly folded it. You headed towards the house with Tony following behind. When you got inside, you paused, looking around. You didn’t know if you were allowed to go off or if you were needed in the meeting that Tony was holding.

“The house is on complete lock down,” Tony told you. “My father brought his extra security and they’re surrounding the house. You can join us in my office or you can do your own thing.”

“I’m going to be in my studio,” you mumbled.

“Okay. That’s fine. I’ll be checking in on you. Let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded before heading off to your studio. Tony watched as you went to shut the do and then decided against it. You opened it as wide as you could and got to work. You didn’t even turn on any music. Tony could tell that you didn’t want to get caught off guard again. He went into his office, where everyone was. Waiting around the large conference table.

“Yelena explained the situation to everyone and I showed the video footage,” Steve informed Tony as he entered.

“Good,” Tony murmured, heading to his seat at the far end of the table. “We cannot allow Obadiah to get away with this.”

“I agree,” Howard said, taking those at the table by surprise. “We need to retaliate.”

“We can’t just go in guns a blazing,” Rhodey warned. “We have to be smart about this or it’s going to back fire. But the teams are ready for whatever we ask them to do.”

“I’ll meet with Obadiah tomorrow, with Tony. We let him know that the partnership is over but that Y/N is still a Stark.”

“He won’t like that,” Clint said, leaning back in his chair.

“We do it on our turf,” Bucky confirmed. “We need the upper hand.”

“He will retaliate,” Natasha added. “There will be a war in the city before we know it.”

“I don’t care,” Tony spoke up. He looked over at Maria. “I understand now where you were coming from when you told me to take care of her. Y/N’s been abused all her life and I’ve only made things worse. I’m sorry.”

Maria have her son a small smile. “Thank you, Anthony,” she said. “How is Y/N?” 

“Not okay. But I promised her that they wouldn’t touch her again. And I do not intend on breaking that promise.”

“We will all help you,” Yelena offered.

“I expect it. Everyone needs to be at the top of their game. This is a fight we have no choice but to win.”

~~~

You stayed in your studio for the remainder of the day. You tried to keep your mind off of everything that had happened. The door of your studio was kept open until you left to go to bed that night. You entered your room with a sigh, leaning back against the door for a moment before heading for into your room. Before you headed into the bathroom, a folded piece of paper on your pillow caught your attention.

With unsteady legs, you made your way to your bed and shakily picked up the paper. Your heart stopped as you read the messy handwriting.

I’m sorry I missed you, sweetheart. Hope that you had a nice chat with your father. Can’t wait to see you soon. - B

You collapsed to your knees before lurching forward with a sob. You were never going to escape this.

~~~

Tony didn’t get much sleep that night. He couldn’t stop his mind from racing. He ended up calling Pepper over just after midnight.  After having a rough round of sex, Tony finally fell asleep, leaving Pepper wide awake. She wrapped herself up in a robe and snuck out of Tony’s room. The hallways were barely lit with soft lights near the baseboards, allowing Pepper to find her way to Tony’s office. She slipped in and headed straight for his large desk on the other side of the room. Turning on the lap, Pepper quickly got to work. Brock asked for the house and security plans. And Tony was an idiot, who told her his password months ago. With ease, Pepper was able to email everything and more to Brock and download it onto a USB.

Pepper made sure that everything looked untouched and slipped back into Tony’s bed without anyone noticing. She smirked to herself at how ease it was. She knew that the security detail was all on your side on Tony’s. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand and she picked it up.

Brock: Got your email. I’ll be sure to keep my girl distracted more so that Tony’s all yours.

Pepper: And I’ll be a distraction anytime for you as well.

Brock: Perfect. 

~~~

“She hasn’t been out all day?” Tony questioned after Yelena had told him that no one had seen you today.

“I know she’s in there because she’s said she’s good and just wants to be left alone,” Yelena continued. 

Tony huffed, glancing at your closed bedroom door. “Keep me updated. I’m going to my parents to confront Obadiah.”

“Will do,” Yelena nodded.

Tony met Happy and Steve out at the car then headed to his parents. Obadiah was already settled in with a drink when Tony arrived at Howard’s office. Howard and Tony shared a look before Tony walked around the desk and stood behind his father.

“Well, I take it this isn’t a friendly meeting,” Obadiah said, taking a sip of his drink.

Howard turned his computer screen to face Obadiah. On the screen, the video footage of you and Obadiah in your studio was pulled up. It was paused just before the slap. Obadiah sat up straighter.

“What is this?” He asked.

“I think you know exactly what it is,” Tony retorted. “Play the footage.”

Howard pressed play and scene began on the screen. The sound was off, allowing the silence to increase the tension in the room. While Obadiah’s focus was on the screen, Howard and Tony focused on him. He did not move as he watched himself slap you and you fell back onto the floor. Howard paused the footage.

“You attacked my wife in her studio,” Tony stated, eerily calm.

“This is all a misunderstanding,” Obadiah said. “She tripped.”

“You slapped her!”

Obadiah scoffed. “I asked her to allow Brock onto the security staff. He is my way of ensuring that she’s safe. She told me no and she was taught better than to do that.”

“Brock is not welcome near her,” Howard responded. “He’s also not welcomed in any of our homes, hence why he was stopped at the door today. He’s done too much damage.”

“My daughter has forgotten her place.”

“No,” Tony’s voice was clipped as he spoke. “You’ve forgotten yours.”

Obadiah stood, hands slamming on the desk. “I built this alliance. I gave my daughter to your family to keep the peace and to build a new era. Her last name may now be Stark but she will always be a Stane. She is my responsibility, whether she’s married into your family or not.”

“You gave her up like you were selling a piece of furniture. Do not pretend like you understand being responsible for her.”

Obadiah laughed. “Oh, like you would know? How’s Pepper by the way? She still meeting your every need?”

Tony stepped forward but Howard stopped him with a raised hand. “Enough,” Howard demanded. “You slapped my daughter-in-law, in her own home. And you did it because she refused to make sure that Brock had a way into the house. You did not ask her anything. You demanded it.”

“She knows better to refuse her own father. I outrank her.”

“You don’t outrank me. You don’t outrank my son. And you sure as hell don’t outrank my daughter-in-law in her own house.”

Obadiah looked between the two men, beginning to realize that he may have miscalculated things.

“You and Brock have been abusing Y/N for years,” Tony accused. “Me and others have seen the bruises. We’ve seen the way she flinches and tenses whenever she’s around the two of you. It ends now.”

“You both are soft,” retorted Obadiah.

“No. We’re civilized and you’re obsolete,” Howard replied. “Our agreement is over. Effective immediately.”

“Then Y/N returns to me.”

“Not a chance in hell,” Tony stated.

“There will be no more meetings,” continued Howard. “No more dinners. Anyone associated with the Stane name are not to contact Y/N, every again. And if you or Brock even breathe in the same room as her again, neither of you will see the light of day.”

“You can’t threaten me.”

“I just did.”

Tony leaned over the desk to get close to Obadiah’s face. “Y/N is not your property,” he started. “She no longer a Stane. She’s my wife. And she has the full protection of the Starks. Forever.”

Howard stood up and nodded to Bucky. Bucky and Steve stepped up, one on each side of Obadiah. “They will guide you out of the house,” he said. “I wish things didn’t have to end this way.”

Obadiah stood up, glaring at the Stark men across from him. “This isn’t over,” he threatened. “You just unleashed something you will regret.”

“Goodbye Obadiah."

Steve and Bucky each grabbed one of Obadiah’s arms. He tore free of them.

“Let go of me!” He exclaimed. “This isn’t over!” He turned around and marched out of the room with Bucky and Steve following to ensure he left. Obadiah stormed off to the car, where Brock was waiting. “Get us home, now!”

Brock began driving off. “What happened, Boss?” He wondered.

“They broke the agreement.”

“What?”

“No meetings. No money. No contact with Y/N.”

“They can’t do that. She’s your daughter.”

“They’re turning her against me. And turning you into a target while they’re at it.”

“What are we going to do about it?”

“We are going to remind them what fear tastes like. We’re going to go after the other Stark alliances. The Stark secrets. Everything. But first, we need to send a message.”

“To Y/N?”

“I want her reminded that she’s a Stane, not a Stark. That at the end of all this, she will be right back with us. I don’t want anyone killed, not yet. But scare her.”

“It will be my genuine pleasure.”

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