#my worker even called me out and was like ARE YOU WATCHING BAD BATCH RIGHT NOW

[last-of-cheese]

You and me both

I was watching the first episode all over on the bus home from a program outing, and do you know how awkward it is to explain to like 15 people why you're almost full on crying because of a cartoon. (It seeing and hearing Tech again it hit different okay.)

The majority of the people in the group on the bus are heavily mentally disabled, and do know I really love Star Wars. So when one of them sees what I'm watching and goes "I know why he's crying! It's Star Wars!" I fuckin bust out laughing.

This is it. This is my legacy.

I still get sad whenever I see Tech's face.

That's all.

[prentissvest]

why did you let me love you?

y/n x Jennifer jareau

warnings- angst, cheating, toxic JJ. knife

not spellchecked

Late a warm summer evening i sit on the balcony waiting for my wife to come home, its been months since we have sat down and had a full conversation ever since the bau began collaborating with the police i haven't seen her nearly as much and its chipping at me slowly. I know that the cases can be hard to digest and it is likely easier to talk with her co-workers rather then her wife about the horrors she sees each day but i wish she would talk to me, not even just about work i just wish we would talk.. About anything. 

Jennifer usually  shows up after I have fallen asleep and is gone before I wake up. I dream of the mornings that I used to love..

My eyes slowly flutter open as I feel the soft hands of my wife combing through my hair,  looking up to see my beautiful wife looking down at me, her charming emerald eyes looking into mine. “Good morning my love” she says with a hand on my cheek and her other arm around my waist. JJ begins to get out of bed and I follow not too far behind. ‘’You look beautiful in my shirt” JJ says looking me up and down, my cheeks begin to pinken with blush as she wraps her arms around me.

I begin to cook breakfast, pancakes with fruit and cream. One of JJ’s favourites is the smell of cooking blueberries floating through the air. 

I now walk to my freezer and grab a frozen pancake. I'm now running down to my last few but JJ made this batch, it's just not the same when I make them. I place the plate in the microwave and watch the pancake spin. The timer moving agonisingly slowly and my patience wearing thin but half frozen pancakes doesn't sound too great right now.

I hear the door handle to my apartment turn. I grab the knife which had laid near my side on the kitchen counter and slowly make my way to the door, I walk ensuring not to stand on the creaky floorboards. I look to the door and drop the knife “JJ” i say with relief, i run to my wife and wrap my arms around her happy to see her home safe “y/n..” she says pushing me away “please just leave me alone, i thought you'd have left for work by now” i step back “what do you mean? So you have been purposefully ignoring me the whole time then.” she looks at me with anger “yes y/n we have been over this i don't want you to be near my work” “i don't care about your work Jayje i care about you” i say with sympathy in my voice “no y/n you don't get it, my work is my life and i cant keep switching between you and work” she says her voice slowly raising “no that can't be it you've been working with the BAU for five years but it only became a problem almost a year ago… when you started working with the local police department” she tenses under the weight of my words “did you.. Meet someone new?” I say my hands shaking and eyes beginning to water. 

“Its will isn't it” i say not able to hold back my tears. “y/n..” “no JJ are you telling me that you have been ignoring me, my calls, my needs and my love for the past year all because you have been screwing with Will?” I say wrapping my hands around my waist. “It didn't start like that y/n you have to understand that, we were just working together but the case got hard and he was a shoulder to lean on, i didn't want to tell you about the case because i didnt think youd want to hear about it but he was there y/n i didn't mean to sleep with him i just- my feelings for you.. They changed” “SO WHY DID YOU LET ME LOVE YOU? Why didn't you tell me the truth or talk to me about your problems? I'm your wife JJ.. i think you need to leave or get a hotel or go live with Will for all i care but you are no longer welcome here”

If anyone would like a part 2 please let me know (sorry its so short i hate writing bad about my fav characters)

[thewadapan]

Pitchposting: STREAMERS

Sometimes at work, I want to reach out over the counter with both hands, grab my customer by the head, and scream at them, have you ever worked a job like this in your life?

Pitch #1: Disclosure Agreements

A "streamer" is someone who broadcasts their stream of consciousness online. Riders can join or leave at any time, and experience all of the streamer's qualia, including some awareness of the streamer's thoughts and relevant memories alongside the raw sensory experience. The connection is one-way.

There's probably a stream for basically anything: adrenaline junkies skydiving or racing fast cars, artists struggling through the process of ideation in realtime, influencers eating experimental meals in foreign cafés, obviously a lot of people having a lot of sex, zookeepers, fighters, clubbers, stoners, and also one astronaut.

Casey finds streamers who are working shitty, minimum-wage jobs, and experiences their shifts with them.

It's mostly boring. It's very human. Maybe she's not the only one—there could be an entire subculture of workplace voyeurism. It can't yet be mainstream for people to be streaming their jobs, otherwise the public awareness that it's widespread would affect people's behaviour—y'know, the observer effect—so maybe it's underground. Maybe it's positive, and they're watching out of camaraderie, or maybe it's negative, and they're all just waiting for the bad day with the blow-up argument. If the workers get caught streaming, they'll be fired, so there's a strict culture of kayfabe in the riders: don't interact with the streamer, don't post their personal details anywhere. But then, what counts as a personal detail? People are breaking these rules all the time. People keep getting caught. The streams go dark. But there's always more: the world has an infinite supply of cashiers and call centre operators who just want to be seen, to be seen as a person, by anyone. Casey takes it all pretty seriously, which from a certain perspective makes her a fanatic: but her own emotions are naturally muted, repressed, given over to the people she inhabits. I think you can't help getting the sense that Casey is waiting for something, perhaps without even consciously knowing it.

One day, she's in a stream all by herself—maybe it's a night shift, maybe the job is uniquely boring or unpleasant, maybe the guy himself is offputting in just the right way that, most of the time, there's literally nobody else who wants to live in his head. And then something terrible happens. It'd probably have to be something like, he kills someone, or commits a terrible moral wrong by more subtle means (say, deliberately sabotaging a batch at his factory in a way that's likely to cause deaths), and appears to get away with it. Or maybe it's the other way around: something singularly horrible happens to him, and Casey is the only other person in the world who knows what he's experienced. Casey becomes obsessed with him, and travels to his place of work to expose him or meet him. I'm not exactly sure what the ending of this one would be like. For me, the moment this entire thing builds towards is one of rejection: Casey finally sees this guy from the outside, and he is disgusted by her and what she's done. What she envisions as a moment of catharsis or empathy turns in an instant into total alienation.

In text, this story could use a parallel-columns gimmick: the prosaic experience of the streamer on the left, and Casey's running commentary on the right. As a comic, you'd overlay Casey's thoughts as narration, while the artwork shows the streamer. I think it would be fun to do a really cold open, where it's not clear what the relationship is between these parallel narrative threads, or even that they're literally different people!

In television or movie, you could instead employ first-person POV camerawork, and/or split-screen effects. A more conventional approach might be to film Casey physically inhabiting the same scene as the streamer, jarringly substituting them from shot to shot. Casey's performance would never quite matching the emotional tone of the scene: maybe she laughs while the streamer is upset, or literally keeps making little asides at the camera.

(This story obviously wouldn't work as a video game, because the lack of agency Casey experiences—locked in, a spectator—is antithetical to the immersion and choice offered by games.)

Pitch #2: Exposure Therapy

A "streamer" is someone who relives the memory of another person, experiencing their stream of consciousness. The technology was originally intended for healthcare: memory transplants can be used for therapy, to allow patients to experience their fears in a perfectly controlled environment, or maybe even as a new form of anaesthetic; memories are a strictly controlled substance, like hard prescription drugs.

However, there's also a black market for memories: a marketplace of ideas, if you like. Suddenly, experience itself is being commodified; if you go through something terrible, that sucks for you, but hey, maybe someone will pay out the ass for you to show them that memory!

You can remember shaking the hand of a dead celebrity. You can remember going to that concert which sold out before you could get tickets. You can remember playing that concert. You can remember shooting up a school. You can remember being attacked by a bear. You can't remember what it feels like to die, but you can remember what it feels like to almost die.

And again, you can remember having all kinds of sex—but of course, this new kind of porn is harder to produce, because now all those pesky thoughts are an inextricable part of it. There's cyclical escalation where people are trying to feel better about the sex they're having, to produce more sublime smut, but the more self-conscious they're being about it, the worse it is. (I'm assuming people have thoughts like this while making regular real-world porn; the difference here, to me, is that the audience is experiencing those same thought processes, which then becomes part of it. The basic Streamers concept naturally lends itself to stories entirely about sex, via themes of intimacy and exhibitionism, so I'm trying to take these pitches in less-obvious directions.)

A lot of people think the whole thing is sick and tasteless. There's maybe a cohort of people who believe that running these memories constitutes creating—and then killing—a clone of the person who originally experienced them; they're framed as fringe conspiracy theorists, but there's a tiny chance they're right.

Trent is an ex-veteran who has killed a man in cold blood, legally. He is disabled and struggling to pay his healthcare bills. He feels used and abandoned by the government. When he discovers that there are sickos online who will pay very well for memories of murder, he makes the choice to share this memory, despite feeling like he's only further exploiting the man whose life he took. However, when the memory goes very public, his actions come under new scrutiny from the general public, and it threatens the entire legitimacy of his country's military and government. (For a version of this story without the military, Trent is a thief who "accidentally" killed a man during a home invasion that went awry.)

I do kind of think it'd be better to have the protagonist of this one be purely a victim, rather than a morally-complicated victim of the military-industrial complex. The thing is, the exact trauma they've suffered massively informs the character of the story. In Trent's case, his PTSD is externalised as it becomes reality for countless strangers around the world, and his sin is reified by the media.

For me, what I find compelling about this pitch in abstract is that it's a heightening of the economic pressures that face many writers of "real" literature: readers want real experiences, which means people writing about their real traumas, which can be a way of experiencing that same trauma over and over.

Pitch #3: Composure Breakers

Kyle is a "streamer"—that is, someone who streams an experience from one person to another. He breaks into someone's home, knocks them out, and forces them to inhabit the mind of someone undergoing trauma. (Perhaps it would be better for it to be a computer virus, or a letter bomb, or a magic power, or something similarly impersonal and hands-off.) Obviously this is illegal.

It's very ideologically motivated vigilantism: Kyle believes that if only he can show a bad person what it's like to live in their victim's shoes, they will change their ways. To start with, he's been using memories donated to him consensually: "this customer is rude to me and my colleagues every single day. I want you to make her see what she looks like from the outside". Or, "that public figure is a turbo racist. I want you to show him this time I was beaten within an inch of my life for the colour of my skin". Or, "that politician keeps lobbying for hostile architecture. I want you to make him experience a single night from when I was sleeping rough". Car crashes, redundancy, cyberbullying, poisonings, gender dysphoria, theft, workplace accidents, domestic abuse, chronic illness, sexual harassment: Kyle takes them all and uses them to make people beg for forgiveness, and as his ambitions grow, he turns his attentions to bigger targets. (If he's a hacker type, maybe it's a different kind of escalation—he uses a virus on the entire userbase of an incel forum.) The results aren't always perfect, but he believes he's overall doing good.

Eventually, though, he gets a violent memory of dubious provenance, and an opportunity to use it on a very powerful person. Maybe he's purposefully sought it out on the dark web, where people are selling bad memories for stupid money. Maybe a mysterious benefactor has passed the memory on to him. It's obvious that the victim shared this memory with someone they trusted, only to be betrayed, either for money or out of misguided concern. Kyle knows it's wrong to use it, but he's convinced this memory would let him make someone change the world.

I guess it's a little unclear to me exactly how the victim finds out their trauma has been used in this way. Maybe the public figure immediately makes a very public disclosure, with lots of specific details that the victim is aghast to recognise? To Kyle, they say: how dare you make them a victim, how dare you make them anything like me. The inherent contradiction of Kyle's ideology is laid bare: he wants to reduce suffering in the world, but the only way he can think to do this is by duplicating suffering.

I think this one would live-or-die on the quality and specificity of the experiences seen towards the beginning. If I was writing it, I'd want to make sure to consult with people who've experienced similar things to whatever I chose to depict. But the idea of that leaves me uneasy, because in a way, that transmutation of other people's trauma feels like exactly the same thing I'd be criticising Kyle of doing.

The only way I could see myself writing it would be if Kyle doesn't experience any of the memories himself, and neither does the reader: instead, we see these conversations before and after, and the mundane reality of him breaking into people's homes. But then, if the audience isn't actually experiencing those memories, that feels like it instantly makes this pitch a worse version of this premise than the previous two.

Still, in terms of the moral complexity, this is the one that grabs me the most. The themes of appropriation and justice have plenty of depth to explore, and I connect more with Kyle than with the other protagonists. I feel like we've all talked to someone who just does not understand how another person or group is suffering, and thought to ourselves, I wish I could put you through it.

Influences

If you haven't read any of my previous pitchposting articles on my website, here's the rub: I have no intention of writing this story. Sometimes I get an idea in my head, and it's an interesting thought exercise for me, but it doesn't compel me enough to go through the entire process of working out specific beats. This is how all my stories start life, as a very abstract outline full of the impressions of scenes: "a joke goes here" rather than the joke itself.

Although I've presented them in a certain order to create a logical progression, Pitch #3 was what first popped into my head, with the other two being variations on the theme. I was inspired by the very recent furor over Seven Shoulders, a newly-announced book by some guy called Sam Forster who disguised himself by doing blackface to prove that racism still exists in America. To see someone trying to vicariously experience other people's misery to prove a point, while violating generally those same people's basic wishes, filled me with secondhand embarrassment; this informed Kyle's character.

If you're compelled by these pitches, here's a list of pre-existing stories I consciously drew inspiration from:

I recently finished watching the hit show Severance, in which a work/life balance is forcibly implemented by partitioning the mind; one version of yourself knows only work, and the other knows the rest of life. While Severance is a dreadful mystery-box show that I'm convinced will never be able to deliver on an ending, its core conceit is great and it has some amazing character work. Themes of memory and exploitation have been on my mind!

"It's Not the End of the World" by @alexanderwales is an unfinished series of vignettes about a superhero with voyeuristic powers, set in the world of Ward by Wildbow. I always felt like it was a shame Wales never finished this one, because I loved it.

"Lena" is a short story by qntm about digital copies of the human mind, which are exploited years into the future. It slaps!

Much of the hedonism of Pitch #1 is, weirdly enough, inspired by a film I never finished watching: Like Me by Robert Mockler, about a girl who livestreams a bunch of fucked up shit. I genuinely just didn't have the stomach for it, but I also felt like it was fundamentally misanthropic in a way which I flatly disagreed with. Don't recommend it!

Obviously this whole thing is very Black Mirror, with particular inspiration drawn from "The Entire History of You" with its recorded memories, "White Christmas" with its vicarious livestreaming, and Pitch #2's main theme draws inspiration from the ending to "Fifteen Million Merits".

Without spoiling too much, the ending of Puella Magi Madoka Magica reveals that, in our final, darkest moments, we are not alone: a higher power is there to experience our suffering with us, take it on as their own. This is probably how Casey views herself in Pitch #1.

The movie Inception is about people trying to sneak an idea into the mind of an influential individual. I picture Kyle's means of implanting memories as being similar to the apparatus depicted in that film.

I probably also drew inspiration from the memory orbs in Fallout: Equestria, an edgy doorstopper My Little Pony fanfiction which I read as a teen and which basically forms the entire basis for my work. One character in that story develops a compulsion to watch a particularly memory orb over and over, as a coping mechanism.

What would your take on these stories look like? Are there any experiences you could be moved to share with other people? How do you think these stories end?

Anyway I promise I'm working on actual writing, I'm just very bad at it!

[wyrmmaster]

Makura's a good emblem of where Granblue's at writing-wise, lately.

Her design, voicework, and personality are fantastic. She's even a well-balanced unit and you can see her eventual uncap is gonna give her some real oomph. Totally satisfied on all these fronts. Excellent character.

Then you get to her Fates.

Her Intro has a good start. It's frenetic. The bunny has her ear twitch because she hears someone's got a problem, shouts 合点承知ィ!! at the top of her lungs and hops off to go help with whatever (She can jump really high, yo.). Keeping people from cutting in line at her shrine, stopping a dad from letting go of his daughter's hand in a crowd, cooking a huge ass batch of noodles, stopping a fight from breaking out, finding lost items, and so on all with a very peppy nice gyaru big sister vibe. This is her major Thing™, and it continues through her skill fates. She's a Hyper Happy Hoppy Helper Bunny, it's great.

Anyways, that's the first couple minutes.

... and then here's Richard - your favorite bit character ever, I'm sure - to tell you about how gamblers love the Divine Rabbit General, because rabbits are good luck. Naturally.

Oh, people are wearing bunny ears at the rabbit festival. "Why is that!?" asks Lyria, the adorable idiot.

"Well," explains Richard, "she's a fan of the rabbit. Only, she might not actually be a fan of the rabbit."

"What? Why would you wear bunny ears if you didn't like rabbits?" Vyrn squeaks like he does.

"Excellent question! And one that I was definitely not going to say right before you interrupted me." Richard just likes sparing people's feelings.

Apparently the very first Divine Rabbit was a super good gambler, and liked to play dice - specifically Choboichi, where you predict the outcome of a dice roll.

I just said that, Richard. Go away, I'm taking over.

Anyway, she only ever played Choboichi with her friends, until their games attracted local gamblers. And then like, every gambler ever. All of them. They obviously couldn't fit everyone inside the temple, so they built a fuckoff massive casino right next to the Sacred Divine Rabbit Shrine and played a shitload of dice.

Only it turns out she was actually good at gambling, and no one could beat her. One dude eventually noticed the Divine Rabbit Erune had huge ears and could actually hear the clicking of the dice, and figure out how it landed. Dude was a fucking genius.

Everybody immediately forgot how unfair that was, and made fake bunny ears... which they then sold as like tourist paraphernalia.

The owner of the huge ass gambling den saw everybody wearing these fake ears and was like "What the fuck, are you all furries now?" and banned them from wearing their ears.

Only, the gamblers thought wearing the ears brought good luck - completely forgetting that the Divine Rabbit General was cheating at dice the entire time - and complained. So the owner was like "Alright we'll make the employees wear them and that will spread the luck equally!"

And that's how the Casino workers in Granblue ended up in bunnysuits.

What were we talking about again?

Oh, right, the Divine Rabbit General.

So you head over to the massive casino no one noticed before this and.... actually it turns out it looks more like a theater, now.

Because the current General, Makura, leads a performer troupe consisting of herself and her four rabbit shikigami, let's watch her do a sword dance for everybody!

I love Anthusociuelgayne! She's my favorite character!

She finishes her performance and everyone throws money wrapped in paper to look like rose petals at her.

And then she sees Vyrn, and melts. Because she super loves cute stuff.

Have we reminded you that Vyrn doesn't like to be called a lizard lately? He doesn't like that.

Anyways, turns out her first and major priority is her performance troupe (that her Brother runs) and this whole Divine General thing is her side gig. And now we shower her act with praise for a bit. But oh no! Her ear twitched!

Somebody's bringing bad news! Makura's mom's missing! Luckily there's a convenient Crew here.

End scene.

So we have a good intro showing a Hyper Happy Hoppy Helper Bunny sidetracked entirely by a bit character hardly anyone cares about that launches into a story that serves the singular dubious purpose of explaining bunnysuits, which ends rather abruptly and then you learn that the Hyper Happy Hoppy Helper Bunny is actually a dance troupe performer, and her mom's recently gone missing. It's like they threw darts at a board.

Her skill fates are better in that you get to see more of her being a Hyper Happy Hoppy Helper Bunny, and that she's a really sweet girl that's down to earth but more than willing to smack the shit out of you to set you straight.

She essentially fixes a marriage by telling a deadbeat whose wife kicked him out of the house to express himself with her more openly. Only, it turns out someone's trying to sneak into the back of their house!

... Turns out it's the deadbeat's brother was talking to his wife while he was kicked out of the house. The immediate assumption is Adultery™ and that makes her go into Murder Mode

But really he was just talking to the wife and trying to cheer her up, the secrecy was because his brother's a jealous dude and jumps to conclusions (Who would do that!?). This has been a thing for a while. It's like a platonic affair.

Makura tries to get everyone to cut the bullshit and just talk with each other, but they don't want to, so she leaves.

Now she's helping a dude down on his luck, who had to give away his tools as collateral for a debt he owes - but he can't work without his tools, and make the money he needs.

Makura sympathizes, and we're given a flashback where she figures out her two swords - the symbols of the Divine Rabbit - are actually fakes, and have been ever since the second Rabbit had to give them up because of gambling debt.

Yeah. DEFINITELY not the setup for a potential Uncap plot beat, nothing to see to see here. Wink.

So she hands him all of her money, and resolves to eating less for a while. Only, right before she goes to bed, she hears something, and jumps off again to Help. Someone's purse was stolen!

... Turns out the culprit was the dude she gave all her money to! Aw, shucks. That was a blunder.

She beats the shit out of him and a friend.

What's that? Oh! It's the married couple and their brother. Turns out they had a nice long talk and cleared the air. All's well that ends well!

That's Makura! The Hyper Happy Hoppy Helper Bunny, who likes cute stuff.

... That is actually a traveling actress as part of a dance troupe, which her brother runs. Also, her mom's missing. Also, her swords are replicas because the very second Divine Rabbit was a shit gambler.

[nctyhoney]

a helping hand (m)

Pairing: mark lee x fem!reader 

Genre: smut, fluff, office worker!mark, friends to lovers, office!au

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: oral sex (male receiving), car sex, dry humping, praise kink

Playlist:  pickled ginger - mac ayres, fill my holes - YESEO, wait for it - H.E.R.

Summary: You were used to workplace flirting. Everyone at some point would have a 'work bae'. Mark was different though, he was your intern. There were things you wanted to teach him, things he wanted to teach you and none of it had anything to do with work.

A/N: Mark in a suit is just too damn cute. This is my first fic on here so thank you for reading! There will be another part to this at some point.

————————————————————————— 

It’s just gone 8 am and you're on your morning commute to work. You have a car but the traffic in Seoul made it almost impossible to drive during rush hour. Your eyes still feel puffy from sleep, and you hope your mascara has masked their appearance somewhat. As you and a mass of other office workers spill out of the subway station, you're greeted by an autumnal wind. Although it felt mild for the time of year, you couldn't get used to the early morning darkness that the promise of winter brought.

In just 2 years, you'd progressed to head of the marketing team at Hyphen, Korea's biggest publishing house. You were proud to have landed a job at such a reputable company straight out of university, but with each pay rise came more responsibilities.

The elevator reached your floor, 39. Going through to the kitchen area, you put two iced Americano cans in the refrigerator. You weren't a fan of coffee but it got you through the day. As you were organising the refrigerator, you felt someone behind you and turned around quickly - it was your manager. He had a weird way of creeping up on his workers and you found him somewhat seedy. You always made sure to be polite to him, though.

"Morning manager Kim," you stand up, adjusting your pencil skirt slightly.

"Morning y/n! Here bright and early I see. Did you get my email last night?" He asks, his eyes flicking between your body and your face.

"Sorry, what email?" You ask, feeling slightly panicked.

"This year's interns start today. I sent it last night so you probably didn't get a chance to read it."

Crap. Interns. You didn't know if it was your imposter syndrome talking but something about being observed by interns made you feel underqualified. Perhaps you just got a bad batch of interns the first time around. You remembered Kyungsoo and Minhee from last year. Kyungsoo's uncle was CEO of Hyphen and he wouldn't let you forget it. He refused to work and you'd find him and Minhee coming back from their lunch breaks an hour late, often out of the unused stock cupboard.

"No sorry I didn't read it," you apologise, "when are they coming?"

"The receptionist said there are four downstairs waiting. They'll be up in a minute," manager Kim says checking his watch.

You nod, "How many will I be working with this year?"

"You'll each have one intern this year. You'll be working with Mark Lee, he's Canadian. A good kid. I think you'll like him."

Just then, the sound of the elevator reaching the 39th floor alerted you. Four of the interns shuffled out of the elevator.

"Welcome to Hyphen, I'm manager Kim, you might remember me from your interview," he said looking between his sheet with their faces and names and up at them.

"So we have Mark, Haechan, Jeno and Sooji. I hope you enjoy this year working in marketing. This is y/n, she's head of this department."

You exchange handshakes and bobs of the head, feeling relieved that these interns at least look shy rather than cocky rich kids.

"Mark you'll be giving y/n a helping hand this year. Y/n, I know you'll make him feel welcome. The rest of you, let's find the workers you'll be shadowing," manager Kim says before they're off out of the kitchen to one of the conference rooms.

Mark is staring at you from a distance, awkward and tense. His black hair falls into his eyes despite styling it neatly for work; he brushes it out of his eye nervously.

"Tea?" you ask him, grabbing your two favourite mugs out of the cupboard.

"Oh, yeah, please - if that's not too much trouble," Mark says hesitantly.

"Of course it's not. You can sit down, we don't start work for another 20 minutes."

He does as he's told, opting for one of the chairs closest to the kitchen worktop.

"Do you take sugar?" You call over to him.

"Two," he replies, fiddling slightly with his wristwatch. This boy is endearing you think, definitely an upgrade from arrogant Kyungsoo.

"How are you feeling about interning here?" You ask, stirring his tea, before coming to sit at the chair next to his.

He takes the mug, "Oh, thank you. I'm kinda nervous I'm not gonna lie, but thankful to be here."

You laugh, his casual tone is refreshing but he catches on and apologizes quickly.

"There's no need to apologize, you can be informal with me. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable," you say, catching his eye over the rim of your mug. He's blushing slightly, and you wonder why you are too.

♡

It's been 3 months since the interns came. December comes and with it is an endless rain.

In those 3 months, it didn't take long for you and Mark to grow close. Sure, he still had his occasional shy tendencies but you spent all your working hours together. Rather than a forced relationship between a senior and their junior, this was something you both saw as natural.

You're just not sure if the feelings you've developed are natural, too. His eyes hold onto yours for longer at company dinners, his hands linger at your waist when he reaches to get a file from the shelf in front of you. And it sets something off in you. You crave the contact. Mark Lee is driving you crazy.

You certainly weren't imagining these moments. You were used to workplace flirting. Everyone at some point would have a 'work bae'. Mark was different though, he was your intern. There were things you wanted to teach him, things he wanted to teach you and none of it had anything to do with work.

When you first started at Hyphen, Johnny used to be heavy on the flirting with you, and being from America, he was confident with it. He’d make you cups of hot, sweet tea each morning. He gave you those flirtatious touches on your arms while complimenting you, and he’d always make sure you got home safe after a company dinner. But he also had a long-term girlfriend and you knew nothing could come of it. Johnny still flirts with you, but that’s just him. And when you first began working at the company, you fell for it...almost. It happened a second time, with Jaehyun but then you learnt that these were just the ways of the office.

Today was a Friday, which meant your division would have drinks with the manager. You weren't keen on drinking, especially not with your manager but your coworkers made it bearable. And since the CEO was attending this week, the manager wouldn't be bothering you, Yerin and Mina for the entire night.

You lean over Mark, reading through the document on his laptop. He's edited the press release you wrote for a new book launch.

He shifts around in his seat. You can't tell if he's nervous about you reading his work or nervous about being sat underneath you. You hope it’s the latter option, though. 

"As expected from our Markie. You're really helping me by editing these documents, it's great - thanks," you smile, moving away slightly.

He's blushing a violent shade of pink and touching the back of his neck. He couldn't get any cuter.

"It's not fair that y/n gets such a helpful intern. Sooji left early when she promised to help with my reports, that's the second time this week," Mina huffs, folding her arms.

"It's compensation for the hell I went through with the interns last year," you laugh.

Johnny walks up to you and nudges you playfully.

"Nah it's not compensation. Y/n is just so hard-working, that's why they gave you the most hard-working intern," he says winking.

Mark looks between you and Johnny, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, thanks for that Johnny but that's definitely not true. Not the part about Mark not being hard-working...or me, I mean, I am hard-working, just not the most," you stutter, suddenly feeling foolish.

Luckily it hits 5 pm before anyone can dwell on your tongue-tied speech. You're all tidying away, turning off your monitors and getting ready for a night of drinking.

You catch eyes with Yerin and go to the bathroom to touch up your makeup.

You're reapplying a dab of lipstick and Yerin brushes her face lightly with powder. She stops for a moment, glancing at you.

"You don't still like Johnny do you?" Yerin asks.

"Johnny?! No way, I'm not going back there," you laugh.

"You seem nervous around him," Yerin points out.

"Come on Yerin, that was awkward. It's weird when someone hypes you up like that. It's bad enough being marketing lead now, it's like I'm expected to be some bigshot when I still feel like a uni student," you admit.

"Yeah, I understand, but you're totally capable. Could it be that you’re feeling shy around a handsome, new worker, I wonder?" Yerin winks.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've noticed that you've been spending a lot of time with Mark recently. I'm left to take lunch with Doyoung. I mean I'm not complaining but you know, Mark does look kinda smitten."

You look over at your friend and catch her looking back at you, expectantly.

"We have to look after our interns, Yerin. And it's not every day that you get such a hard-working one like Mark. Remember the hell I went through with Kyungsoo? Let's just say I'm relieved I've got a good worker."

"Right...so you don't think he's even a little bit cute?"  

Hell yes, you did. But you couldn't admit that, could you?

"He's cute but like, in a little bro way. He's too goofy for me to see him romantically," you bluff but you know Yerin can see right through you.

"He's an intern, what's the harm? As long as Kim doesn't find out," Yerin says.

"Yerin! You're talking nonsense."

"I've seen the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you," she laughs.

"The way he looks at me?" You blurt out, "The way I look at him? We're just good coworkers."

"Girl, you're such a bad liar."

♡

Yerin's words stay in your head for the entire night. Suddenly you're thinking about what Mark's lips would feel like against yours. Wondering what it would feel like for him to touch you, more than the light touches in the office. You've thought about it before, of course. But mostly while touching yourself in bed.

Mark is sat at the low table opposite you, Yerin and Mina at either side of you. Mark is laughing, taking a shot of soju as Johnny pats him on the back. He clearly can't handle his alcohol because he's giggling like a school kid and his face is already flushed. He looks stupidly cute and you realize how much you want to hold him, feel his flushed cheeks underneath your palms. But you peel your eyes away, tuning in to a conversation Yuta and Mina are having about Christmas holidays in Japan.

Manager Kim announces that him and the CEO will be moving to drink somewhere else, stumbling from the long table and telling you to enjoy your night. You all know where that 'somewhere else' is, but you don't bother questioning it. Corporate culture can be parasitic.

Even so, you're relieved that they've left, the atmosphere less stuffy now. Things feel playful and flirtatious. Jaemin is whispering in Jeno's ear and Jeno is laughing. Yerin's hand is dangerously placed on Doyoung's thigh. 

You can't snatch glances at Mark anymore because he's looking right at you, his eyes filled with something you haven't seen before..lust? Maybe your tipsiness is altering the situation but you like it.

“Shall we play truth or dare?” Lucas grins, clapping his hands.

“Let’s just do truths, we’re in public,” Jaehyun points out.

“I second that! But this stays between us, company oath,” Mina says, taking an empty soju bottle and spinning it on the table.

The bottle lands on Jungwoo first and Jaehyun and Mark nudge him on either side, laughing.

“Jungwoo! Who would you date out of everyone here?” Mina asks.

Jungwoo’s eyes are playful and he throws his head back laughing.

“You want me to be completely honest? I’d probably say Lucas,” he says without hesitating.

Everyone is laughing and teasing the pair, except for Mina who nudges Lucas in the ribs to stop him from smirking.

“Moving on, where is the riskiest place you’ve ever had sex?” Jaehyun asks, spinning the bottle as it lands on Mark. 

Mark rubs at his nose, looking at you momentarily. You pretend to focus on your soju shot but you’re listening carefully. 

“I mean…a car I guess?” Mark chuckles, he’s bright red now and you feel jealousy rising inside of you.

Why were you jealous? He wasn’t even your boyfriend.

Johnny is ruffling his hair but Mark looks up at you, looking slightly shifty. Maybe you understand how Mina feels now. You can’t look at him.

“Okay, moving on,” Mark says taking the bottle, “Do you like anyone here?”

It lands on Jaemin and he reclines back in his seat. He raises an eyebrow, “Sure, they like me too.”

Everyone laughs at that and Jeno just shakes his head cutely, everyone knowing they’re practically an item at this point.

“Who would you make out with right now if we were doing dares?” Jaemin asks.

The bottle lands on Johnny. It’s Mark’s turn to pat Johnny on the back now and Johnny just smiles to himself.

“Aren’t you gonna answer, Johnny?” Yuta laughs.

“I’d make out with y/n” Johnny shrugs.

There are collective gasps, and you can feel everyone’s eyes on you. That wasn’t what he was supposed to answer, surely? He had a girlfriend; he could’ve passed on the answer. You look up at Johnny and as if reading your thoughts, he shrugs.

“I had to answer,” he says, putting his hands up defensively.

You laugh then, typical Johnny.

There’s a playful glint in Mark’s eye. Was he that unaffected? You suddenly felt annoyed, foolish for feeling jealous about Mark’s confession.

“If you could have a threesome with two people here, who would they be?” Johnny asks.

It lands on Yerin then, who is already flushed with embarrassment at the question.

“Doyoung, and hmm..” she pauses looking around, “Probably y/n, because we’ve seen each other naked.”

“What?!” Mark, Lucas and Jaehyun say simultaneously. Mark just about chokes on his soju.

“Calm down Mark, looks like someone’s getting a bit turned on,” Yuta winks but Mark’s eyes are still wide, shocked by Yerin’s statement.

Yerin was your best friend, all best friends had seen each other naked. It was perfectly normal. At least it was for you two. 

“It’s a girl thing,” Yerin says simply, taking another shot.

“Oh! I have a good one,” Yuta says grabbing the bottle, “Have you masturbated thinking about anyone around this table?”

Of course it lands on you. To be honest, you had touched yourself thinking about 3 separate people at the table but no one needed to know that. Everyone’s silent and you don’t know where to look. You could lie, it would save your reputation but where would the fun be in that? You were all as tipsy as each other. So you reply with a small “yes” instead.

“Who was it?” Jaehyun asks. 

“I’m not gonna answer that,” you laugh.

You try not to blush but you can’t help it and cover your face with your hands momentarily.

“She’s thinking about them again!” Yerin nudges your shoulder.

You didn’t want to look, you didn’t want to see if Mark was staring at you so you take the bottle to ask the next question quickly.

“How many people have you slept with in total?” you ask, spinning again.

It lands on Doyoung, his eyes are wide and he looks confused, you can’t help but laugh at his cute expression.

Yerin is smirking, expectant.

“Hmm...maybe fifteen?” Doyoung says, tilting his head.

“Fifteen! No way,” Johnny laughs but Doyoung just nods.

“You said you wanted the truth.”

Yerin looks slightly pissed as she pours another shot of soju. It’s only when Doyoung whispers in her ear that her frown softens into a slight smile. She’s got it bad, you thought.

“Let’s stop the game now, I don’t want to hear all these details,” Mina says, side-eyeing Lucas.

 “Yeah I didn’t even get picked,” Haechan huffs, “Let’s just drink a bit more!”

"Hey," Yerin murmurs in your ear over the noise a few moments later, "I'm going home with Doyoung, I'll see you on Monday."

"You naughty girl! Have fun," you laugh. She blows you a flirtatious kiss as she leaves, her arm in Doyoung's.

It's gone midnight when you and your remaining coworkers spill out onto the street. 

"To the next bar, let's go!" Haechan shouts, stumbling as Johnny props him up.

"Dude, you've had way too much to drink. I'm getting you in a taxi," Johnny says. 

Sooji and Jaehyun also opt for getting taxis, following Johnny down the street.

"Are you coming y/n? Mark?" Jaehyun calls.

"I think I'm going to get some food first, I'll see you guys on Monday," you say before you realize. You're not even hungry.

"Yeah me too, see you later!" Mark waves.

You say your goodbyes, leaving you and Mark to walk the opposite way. Mark follows your step, but he's taking his tie off, undoing his top button because he's hot from drinking even though it's the middle of December. The sight of him makes your stomach flip.

"You don't think they'll suspect anything, about you coming home with me?" you ask suddenly.

Mark raises an eyebrow and looks at you, "Who said I'm coming home with you? I thought you wanted food."

"Yeah...yeah, just they might think something else."

Mark shrugs, "Do you care what they think?"

"No, and I guess everyone's fucking each other anyway," you say emphatically.  

"Exactly. Everyone in the office knows we're friends, let them think what they want," Mark says.

"I guess you're right."

"So where are we going?"

"McDonald's?" you ask.

"I don't really feel like food, to be honest," Mark chuckles.

You turn to Mark, "You're seriously just gonna watch me eat?"

He shrugs, "Why not?"

His eyes are glazed over and shiny from the alcohol, his lips formed into a little pout. It takes everything in you not to kiss him right there and then on the street. 

"You're so weird when you're drunk," you say instead, "Seriously, where do you want to go? If you're not going to eat, we might as well go home. I mean...you go to yours and I go to mine."

Mark pulls at his ear, thinking for a moment. But it doesn't really look like he's thinking, more like pretending to think. You can see the trace of a smirk hiding on his lips. This whole conversation feels weirdly contrived. You want him and you're pretty sure he feels the same way.

"I could come with you? Just, you know, to make sure you get home safe," Mark blurts out.

You can't take it anymore. You want Mark Lee so bad it hurts. "Right, okay...well, shall we go now?"

Mark nods and you haul a taxi, just as it starts raining.

♡

Mark is stood in your bedroom doorway, looking as awkward as when you first met him. Now you're not so sure if it was a good idea to invite him in.

"I'll sleep on the sofa if you want," he insists but both of you know it means nothing.

You laugh, "Mark, you can sleep in my bed, it's alright. You can sleep on the left side, I'll sleep on the right if you want."

He smiles in response but doesn't move.

"Seriously Mark, I'm not going to bite," you say patting at the bed.

He sits down gingerly then.

"Your apartment is decorated so nicely," he says looking around your room.

You can see the moon outside of your window, already on its descent for another night.

When you turn back to look at Mark, his eyes are on you. You don't know what to say, but you know what you want to do.

"Can I kiss you ?" he asks, confirming your thoughts. He looks down at your lips and back up to your eyes again.

You nod your head, you can't talk but it doesn't matter because Mark is already leaning in and then his lips are moving against yours. His lips taste faintly of soju, but you don't care. You want to taste him and you slide your tongue against his, suddenly feeling desperate. He takes the hint because you're both taking off each other's clothes then until you're both just in your underwear.

"Wait," Mark says, his hands faltering, "Do you think we should be doing this?"

It's dark, only a street lamp and the moon partially illuminating the room. The raindrops are highlighted and cling to the windowpane. You feel melancholic and you realize now more than ever that you want to be held by Mark. You can make out Mark's expression, a mix of flustered and horny rolled into one. You know he wants this too, this dorky, shy intern who was barely able to make eye contact with you is now in your bed.

"Why not? There's nothing wrong  with what we're doing."

That's all the confirmation he needs because he starts to plant kisses on your neck. You stroke his hair as he makes his way down to your boobs.

"You're so hot" he murmurs, taking off your bra.

He nuzzles his face into your chest, breathing heavily before taking one of your boobs in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around your nipple first and then sucks again. His tongue feels warm and wet against your skin. He looks up at you, his eyes wide and needy.

"God that feels so good -  keep doing that," you breathe.

He hums in response against your boob and you shiver. You want to keep hearing him, that voice that you've dreamt about for nights on end.

Mark lifts you to sit on his lap and you can feel his hardness pressing against you.You guide Mark's head back up to meet yours and you're both kissing again. You grind down on him, both knowing you need this. You want to feel him against you and you can't control it. Your movements are instinctual. Mark understands because he's bucking his hips up to meet yours, despite still having his boxers on. You can hear him grunt into the kiss.

"Do you have a condom?" you sigh.

"Shit, no."

You break apart briefly, Mark's eyes are hooded and his lips are swollen. You're almost certain that you look the same.

"It's okay," you say, getting off his lap to sit next to him.

"Wait - what are you doing then?" he asks, a trace of disappointment in his voice.

"What does it look like I'm doing," you say, pushing him lightly so he's lying down on the bed.

You pull off his trousers and he helps by kicking them at the ankles. He's eager now, his eyes hungry.

You pull down his boxers next until he's lying there, his beautiful, fully naked body exposed. You can see the shadowed contours of his lean body, the smoothness of his skin.

You kiss on his thighs, his skin is so soft and you hear his breath hitch as you do it. He's completely turned on now, you're satisfied knowing you've done this to him. So satisfied that you begin rubbing your clit in slow motions as your face hovers over Mark's crotch.

You take his dick with your free hand and pump it in your hand a couple of times. The tip is wet already and you kiss it, the precum on your lips. He whimpers then and you circle your clit quicker, feeling yourself growing wetter. As you lick Mark's tip, his hips raise to meet your mouth.

"I can't show my face when I'm like this," he murmurs, putting your bed pillow over his face.

"No, I want to see you," you say, climbing up to take the pillow.

Mark just turns his face to the side in response, too horny to argue.

You take him fully in your mouth, bobbing up and down slowly before finding a steady rhythm. He groans in time to your sucking motion.

"Fuck y/n, I'm gonna cum soon," he moans.

You hum against his dick, "You taste so good, Markie. Please cum for me."

He holds your head, pushing it down to reach his raised hips and you can feel yourself choking as his tip touches the back of your throat.

"I'm so...close,  fuck" he moans, thrusting into your mouth.

He whimpers and wriggles beneath you, before jerking violently in large strokes as he cums in your mouth.

You swallow it up, but continue sucking, feeling yourself reach your own climax.

"Shit," Mark hisses.

"Oh my god, Mark -" you cry as you orgasm, your center pulsating.

You come to lie next to Mark, kissing him, open-mouthed and hungry. He can taste himself on you and he likes it.

"You were so damn good at that, y/n," Mark whispers.

"You were so good," you mirror, taking his now sweaty cheek in your hand.

"But I didn't get to do anything," Mark mumbles, placing soft, small kisses on your face.

"I came too. It was so hot seeing you like that."

"No seriously - I wanna make you cum, like for real though," he murmurs into your hair.

"Mm?"

"I know you're sleepy now but would you let me some other time?" he says in the darkness.

Mark's dark hair is plastered to his forehead now. He's hot and flushed, it makes your heart want to burst.

"Do you want to see me again? Like...outside of work I mean," you ask, brushing the hair from his eyes to look at him.

He nods, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Nothing, are you asking me out?" you giggle, pinching his cheek a little then.

He smiles and you know he's blushing.  

"I guess you could say that, yeah," he laughs.

"I'm free then," you say, giving him a small peck on his lips.

Mark pulls you in for a hug. It seems like he wants to say something, whisper to you but you find yourself drifting in and out of sleep quickly. The sound of rain mixes with Mark's rhythmic breathing and lulls you to sleep.

♡

Mark had told you to wait on a nearby street by Apgujeong station. So you're surprised when he pulls up in front of you in his car. It's an old model, just about affordable for a student but it suits him well.

"I never knew you had a car," you point out, climbing into the passenger seat.

"What can I say, I'm a man full of surprises," he winks, laughing because he knew that was as cheesy as it sounded.

"Is where we're going a surprise too?" you ask.

"It might be," he says tapping at the steering wheel with his thumb to the beat of the music. It's a Lucky Daye song.

"You look so pretty by the way," he says, rubbing his nose slightly. You can tell he does that when he's shy.

"You don't look bad yourself," you reply. That would be an understatement, Mark looks like a full course meal right now. Skimming your eyes over his casual clothes, you remember that this was the first time you were meeting Mark outside of work.

You feel good. Despite how cold the late morning feels, the low winter sun is shining, the sky a soft blue.

"Where are you taking me?" you ask when you eventually realize that you're leaving Seoul.

Mark just taps his nose and tells you it won't be a long journey.

And he's right, in the next half an hour, you're driving on Incheon bridge, next to a stretch of blue sea.

♡

It turns out that Mark brought you to Incheon to eat.

You're sat on the floor at a low table of a seafood restaurant. Both of you know how good Incheon seafood is. There's what seems like a hundred different side dishes on the table, and despite both being big eaters, you're not sure if you'll be able to clear even half of it.

"Have the spicy seafood stew, it's delicious," Mark says, pouring you a bowl and putting it in front of you.  

You take a mouthful and he's right, it is delicious. It’s warm and spicy, exactly what you need on a cold day. Mark is looking at you intently, his eyes shining like an eager puppy. He seems happy to see you enjoying your food and that warms your heart. You want to kiss him again.

“The stew is really good for a hangover too, it’s probably what you need,” he says, smiling. 

“Hangover? I’m not hungover, do I look it?” You say self-consciously. 

“No, no, I just meant we both drunk quite a lot last night,” he says, laughing nervously. 

You blush remembering last night and then your thoughts flick back to truth or dare, and how jealous you were. 

Mark must be thinking about it too. "Have you dated any of the guys at Hyphen?" he asks.

You just about choke on your stew, "No, why do you ask that?"

Mark shrugs, "I just wondered. They all speak really well of you, especially Johnny. And you're pretty, why wouldn't they want to date you?"

You laugh then, "Do they?"

Mark frowns a little, "You don't like Johnny, do you?"

"God no, we barely interact these days. No, I haven't dated any of them."

"Did you interact a lot before?" Mark asks.

"Me and Johnny? No, has Johnny said something?"

"Nah, apart from saying he’d date you last night. He just looks like he likes you," Mark says, rubbing his cheek.

You laugh a little then, "No, Johnny has a girlfriend and I wouldn't date him now even if he didn't have one."

Mark relaxes a little then.

"Is there a rule about dating coworkers then or do you just decide not to do it?"

"There's no rule, people just like to keep their personal and work lives private and often separate," you point out.

Mark thinks for a moment, toying with the noodles on his plate.

"What do you like to do, keep things private?" he asks.

"Private or public, I don't care, they can choose," you say quietly.

"Okay...that's good then," Mark says, smirking slightly.

He always has a roundabout way of saying things.

♡

It's 5 pm when the wintry sun sets in Incheon. You and Mark are walking along the beach. It's not perfect weather for it, since it's cold and you shiver in your coat but you're happy to be here with him.

"You need to dress warmer, y/n!" Mark says as he turns to you to retie your scarf properly.

He rubs his hands over your arms to warm you up.

"I'm okay - feel," you say, reaching your hand up to his cheek.

Mark searches your eyes and so it doesn't come as a surprise when he leans in and kisses you. His lips are warm and soft against yours and you feel as though you're melting. The kiss is a light, sweet one and you have to break apart because you feel giddy.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he says.

"No, I like it."

You look into the fading light and see figures at the busy part of the beach in the distance. It wouldn't matter if you were publicly affectionate, no one would care. But you know if you start kissing him again, you won't want to stop.

You hear the sea breeze and then the first rainfall before you see it. It's soft and gentle but you know if you stand here for much longer that you'll catch a cold.

"Shall I take you home?" Mark asks.

You nod, feeling dazed and slightly lightheaded.

As you get into the car, Mark puts his Spotify on. 'Wait for it' by H.E.R. is first to play.

You peer over at his phone screen, it reads 'sex playlist'.

"There's no way you have a sex playlist," you laugh, pushing his arm playfully.

"Nah, it's just random," Mark bluffs, rubbing his nose in the cute way that he did.

"Well, whoever created this playlist has good taste."

"Yeah, alright, it is mine. But it doesn't mean anything," he says.

You raise an eyebrow then.

"Why doesn't it mean anything?" you ask. You don't know why you're probing but you enjoy teasing Mark, hearing him search for words to form an acceptable answer.

Mark just shrugs though, "I just like this mood...being here with you, I like it. This playlist just represents the mood."

"You're so good at bullshitting, Mark," you laugh but Mark is looking at you seriously now.

I know you on the way, but now I want it I can't take it I'm merely tryna chill, but I'm impatient Stay on my mind Can't sleep at night

“I’m being for real though. Like yesterday, I didn’t tell you but it was the first time someone’s given me head before,” he says, playing with his hoodie drawstrings.  

“What? You’ve never had a blowjob before?” you ask, eyes wide.

“I’ve only dated one girl and she straight up didn’t want anything in her mouth so nah, it was the first time and it was amazing” Mark says. 

“Well there’s a first time for everything,” you smile, feeling happy that you got to share that moment with Mark. 

You look at each other in silence again. It’s a comfortable silence but it’s heavy with intent. You both know what’s coming. 

"Y/n, you know I'm not good with words," Mark says and then he pulls you to him so that you're kissing again.

The kiss is different this time, it's slow and intense as if you're something he craves. It's the type of kiss that expresses he needs you now. His lips on yours feel so good and you kiss him back, mirroring his eagerness. Your hands are in his hair and then he bites at your bottom lip. He's gentle but it drives you crazy. His hands are travelling into your bra now.

"Mark," you whisper against his lips, "Mark we're in public."

"It's crazy, I keep wanting to kiss you," he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I want to kiss you too, all the time," you admit.

"No one's here to see and it's dark now anyway."

You look around and Mark is right, it is dark. The rain is lashing hard against the window now, the H.E.R. track barely audible. Your breath and body heat is already steaming up the windows of the car.

"Can I touch you? I want to touch you," Mark whispers, kissing your neck.

There's no use in trying to stop, you feel your willpower disintegrating by the second. There's a desperation in Mark's voice. He's wanted this for so long, and so have you.

Before long you're a tangle of arms and legs in the backseat. Someone might find you but that prospect turns you on more than you initially thought. Your stockings and panties are pulled off and your skirt is hitched up now.

Mark hovers over you.

"Can I touch you?" he murmurs, his half-lidded eyes flick over your body.

You try to close your legs, embarrassed about being observed like this. But Mark just parts your legs with a hand, "You're so beautiful. Can I?"

You nod, you're so wet and you want to feel Mark inside you, you've needed it for so long.

Mark finds your clit easily, rubbing at it slowly but it's enough to make you wriggle underneath him.

Mark leans down to kiss you hungrily. He slips his tongue into your mouth as he continues circling your clit, faster now. You moan into the kiss and Mark bites your lip gently again. That habit he had which drove you crazy.

He breaks the kiss, still touching you and looking at you intently.

"You're so wet, do you want me that bad?" Mark teases.

You bite your lip, bucking your hips up to meet his fingers.

Mark massages you in quick circular motions. You can only focus on the sensation now, coming closer to your orgasm. Nothing matters anymore, not Mark observing your body, not the possibility of being caught by someone, nothing at all.

"Mark, Mark - please," you moan.

"Mmm?" he asks, smirking slightly.

"I want you to fuck me," you murmur, suddenly losing all inhibitions.

"But we're in public," Mark's eyes widen and you realize he's teasing you.

"Please, please fuck me, Mark."

You've never seen Mark like this before, so in control of the situation and you feel disorientated because of it.

Mark takes a condom out of his pocket then and tears it open with his mouth.

He pulls his jeans and boxers down, rolling the condom over his length. As he touches himself to adjust the condom, he suddenly looks more like his nervous, boyish self. He concentrates when he's horny and you realize how cute it is.

"I need you now, please," you whisper, feeling increasingly needy.

Mark is so soft for you, you can tell by the sudden redness of his cheeks, the begging turns him on.

"Please, Mark," you mewl, scratching lightly at his left arm propping him up over you.

Mark positions the tip against your center and you whimper at the sudden contact.

"What would the others say if they saw us like this?" Mark says.

"I don't care," you whisper, feeling even more turned on by the thought. You're not doing anything inherently bad but Mark is still your intern. Why did bad things always feel so good?

Mark’s pupils are dilated as he leans over to kiss you again, and then he slips into you without warning. You feel yourself tighten around his dick and he feels it too because he's groaning.

"Oh my god, y/n, you feel so fucking good," he moans into your mouth.

“Better than the last person you fucked in here?” you murmur.

Mark is taken aback but he clearly likes the jealous tone. He bites his lip and nods “Much better, you’re so hot, y/n.”

Mark fucks you gently, moving inside you with slow movements. His breathing hitches and he closes his eyes momentarily. 

"Mark faster," you plead, your voice filled with innocence.

Mark puts a hand on your thigh and the other grabs at your boob as he starts thrusting into you harder.

"Mm fuck," you moan, feeling him hit your sweet spot.

"D-Do you like that?" Mark whispers and you can't even nod in response. You just know he feels so good.

“Who do you think of when you touch yourself?” Mark pants between groans. So he’s thinking two can play at that game. 

“Ah - it’s you, I think of you Mark,” you moan.

He licks his fingers before placing them on your clit and rubbing once more. The combination makes you a moaning mess and you can't think of anything but your approaching orgasm.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks.

“My god, Mark” is all you can manage. 

Mark's strokes get sloppy and he has to grip at your waist with one of his hands to keep steady. Your bodies are both damp with sweat, the leather seats of Mark's car underneath you are wet. You want to melt into Mark, you want to feel like this forever.

It doesn't take you long to orgasm. With a few more slow strokes and a rub of your clit, you pulsate around Mark's dick.

"Mark, I'm  - fuck" you moan, shuddering violently with every pulse.

"You feel so fucking good," Mark grunts and his praise is enough for you to tighten around him once more. He thrusts again, groaning in your ear before he empties himself into the condom. You feel his dick twitch inside of you and pull his neck down for another kiss.

It's sloppy and needy, your tongues against each others in desperation. When Mark breaks the kiss, he collapses on top of you breathing heavily. You both lie there, trying to catch your breath. Mark's dick is still inside of you though and you can feel the warmth of it and the now filled condom.

"Shouldn't we throw the condom out?" you whisper, stroking the back of his neck.

"I like this feeling, though. Can't we just stay like this for a while?" he says and you feel shy knowing he's still inside of you, that he likes the feeling of you.

"I don't think I can keep away from you," Mark whispers into your hair.

"Me neither," you say as he props his head up to look in your eyes.

"You know yesterday I asked if you cared if people at work knew about us - did you really mean that? That you don't care?" he asks, his eyes are wide like a puppy’s and you know you're too far gone, you want Mark to be yours.

"I don't care at all, Mark", you say, stroking his hair and then his cheek.

"I'm gonna pull out now," Mark chuckles, pulling himself out of you and taking the condom off.

He pulls his boxers and jeans up and you do the same, adjusting yourself into a sitting position.

Mark opens the car to dispose of the condom. Luckily it isn't as busy as you thought outside thanks to the uninviting winter cold and darkness.

As you both get back into the front seats, you look in the mirror, fixing your hair but not bothering with your makeup, which has sweated off completely.

Mark turns to look at you, "You look beautiful, y/n. Seriously."

"Anyway why did you ask me if I care or not?" you ask, trying to change the subject because you're blushing too hard now.

Mark drives away from the parking lot and back towards Incheon bridge.

His eyes are focused on the road but you know he's thinking of what to say next. 

"I was just wondering, well, if I can see you again tomorrow. For a proper date?" Mark asks.

"We did go on a proper date, Mark, we ate seafood and walked on the beach. I loved it," you say.

Mark bites at his lip. He looks nervous as if everything he's done with you so far has lead up to this moment.

"I can't lie, I really like you. Like to the point where I want to be around you all the time," Mark murmurs and his face is going bright red again.

Your stomach is fluttering from the sudden confession and you're can't look at his face anymore. You press for him to go on, though.

"Mmm?"

"Being able to talk about normal shit, do normal things, it's made me realize how much I enjoy spending time with you. I don't even want to drop you off tonight."

He clears his throat, "I think I've fallen for you, y/n. I know I sound stupid but you wanted to hear it. I like you and you don't have to accept it, we can go back to work and forget this ever happened, go back to norm-"

"Mark," you cut him off, "I like you too. I've liked you for ages, I just didn't want to be the first to admit it."

"Why?" Mark chuckles, his eyes wide. He looks genuinely taken aback.  

"You're my intern! Why would I confess first? That wouldn't be professional," you laugh.

"Well we're past professional now," Mark admits, "But if anyone asks, I can just say I've been giving you a helping hand." He winks then and you can’t believe how easily you’ve fallen for this dork.

As you drive across Incheon bridge back to Seoul, you look out of the window and see the same stretch of sea that you saw on the way there. Except this time, the sea is not a glittering blue, it's black, barely noticeable against the wintry evening sky. The passage of time in Mark's company comforted you, it reaffirmed how much you wanted to see each subtle change of the world with him.

"And to be honest, I don't care if anyone at work knows. It's better if they do know we like each other," Mark says quietly, reaching out a hand to stroke yours instinctually.

"Yeah, they've probably guessed already. I don't mind though, half of them are fucking anyway."

Mark laughs at your candidness. "For real though, the number of times I've seen Jaemin and Jeno come out of the unused toilet together is crazy."

"Don't forget Lucas and Mina in the stock cupboard," you point out, giggling.

"We're going to have to find our own spot before they're all taken up," Mark says, his tongue poking at his cheek. He was such a tease.

You could see the first few stars sprinkled across the sky through the car windscreen. The rain had cleared and it was one of those beautiful, chilly winter nights. Still, the stars made you feel solitary.

"I don't want to be alone tonight," you admit to Mark quietly. 

Mark nods "I'll stay. So the cinema and aquarium tomorrow, how does it sound?" 

"It sounds lovely," you smile.

You see the city skyline in the distance, nothing more than a cluster of twinkling dots. You're excited, the night is young and filled heavy with promise.

[mrfandomwars]

Aftermath

A/N: Just a small angsty fic of Crosshair, nothing to see here.

Edited by the wonderful @bomboclaaty

Crosshair frowns, burrowing under the blankets before closing his eyes and breathing through his nose.

In.

Out.

Ignore the headache.

In.

Out.

"Crosshair? Is everything alright?" Asks a voice, a hand coming to softly rest on his shoulder a second later. Reflexively, he flinches at the contact and promptly moves away, as he’s been doing a lot lately.

Opening his eyes, Crosshair came face to face with the concerned face of Echo.

"Everything is fine, you can go back to helping Tech with the hyperdrive."

That you shot, his thoughts provide.

No.

No thinking of what he did.

"I'm taking a break. Omega is helping him right now, and with her ability to mimic so well, she can help a bit more than I can." Echo says, hesitantly sitting down on the bed, which Crosshair responds to by inching away from him. "Besides, it's my turn." My turn to watch you, my turn to make sure you don't betray us again, my turn to make sure that the chip doesn't come back online, my turn to-

Crosshair huffs, tensing up. "Well, you can do your job away from my bed, thank you very much.”

"Crosshair, you can't keep pushing us away-" Echo starts to say, but Crosshair cuts him off.

"Everything is fine."

He tightens his hold on the blankets underneath the top cover, taking a moment to breathe.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

"It's not like my chip has a chance of reactivating or anything," he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes, but he looks down when he sees the sad look on his vod— Echo- on Echo's face.

(He doesn’t have the right to call anyone vod after what he did. He shouldn't act like he does.)

"Crosshair-" Echo starts, before pausing with a sigh and moving closer. "I know that you would prefer not having the chip, but until we find a medical droid that can perform the surgery, Tech's virus will have to do. It's holding itself well, so you shouldn't worry so much. ...I know how it feels to be used against your will, but trust me, we have your back, and we won't let the Empire get their hands on you again."

"Sure, it's not like the virus could fail at any point." Crosshair slightly curls more into himself, away from Echo, trying to concentrate on anything other than the memories of attacking his vode- attacking the bad batch with a small whisper of 'Good Soldiers Follow Orders' in the background. "And you shouldn't make promises you can't keep, it would be easier leaving me behind in a random planet, that way I would be less of a liability-"

Echo snaps, furious. "We are not leaving you behind Crosshair!” He interjects, before closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Speaking again after a few moments, calmer, he continues.

"We are not leaving you Crosshair. You are a member of this team, of this aliit, and we aren't going to let the Empire get their hands on you again." A small look of guilt crosses his face before he speaks again. "We already failed you once Crosshair.. Please let us try again. We promise you that what happened to you won't happen again, not if we have a say in it."

Crosshair scoffs, rolling his eyes and looking down, before turning around so his back was facing Echo. His vo- the batch should listen to him, he’s trying to help. By keeping him around, they were taking an unnecessary risk.

They should leave him somewhere where he can't hurt anyone, then they would be safe.

(Even if it would hurt Crosshair never seeing his vo- his old co-workers again, it's for their safety, and that's all that matters).

Before he can dwell more on that, he feels arms encircle him, making him go stiff, before he forcibly relaxes himself.

"Making sure I can't move, heh?" Crosshair tries to joke, but fails ultimately at that.

Hugging Crosshair tighter, Echo put his chin on top of his vod head.

"You aren't at fault vod. I know that it feels like it is, that you should have done something more to try and stop it, trust me, I know, but you aren't the person who attacked us." Echo says, making Crosshair turn around and face him. Making him meet his eyes before pulling him against his chest, holding him close. "You aren't at fault."

"You don't know what you are talking about," Crosshair whispers, leaning against Echo as he looks down and puts a trembling hand on his v- co-worker shoulder, hating how quivery and quiet his voice sounds. How weak it sounds. But he knows his words were a poor excuse. Out of all the batch, Echo was the one who understood what he went through best.

(Which he hates— his vo-his co-worker shouldn't know what it felt like to be controlled, with every choice taken away from you. He shouldn't.)

"Crosshair, we both know that's osik." Echo sighs, rolling his eyes.

Crosshair was about to retort when he suddenly realised that he couldn't feel his legs.

Oh no.

"Echo, knock me out,” he says, trying to control the panic quickly rising in his chest as he registers the way he’s slowly losing the feeling in his arms.

Good Soldiers-

"Echo, Echo, please-“ He barely has any control over his body, no longer caring about the clear panic in his voice.

Good Soldiers Follow-

"Echo-" Crosshair started to say again, panicking more, but he’s hushed by the feeling of something pricking his neck.

The last thing he sees and feels is his vod losing his hold on Crosshair, while his own hand goes limp from where it was on Echo's neck.

(The next time he wakes up, he is restrained to the bed, the sound of arguing in the background.

Turning his head slightly, Crosshair catches sight of the glint of a blaster held in someone's hand, before he turns his head to stare at the wall. Closing his eyes, Crosshair fell into a dreamless sleep.

The only constant thing through it all was the small, barely heard, chant of 'Good Soldiers Follow Orders'.)

[AO3]

[cobaincreates]

touch pt. 2

warnings: smut (surprise), oral (female receiving), 18+, language, literally no plot & i’m not sorry

count: 3k+

part two part two part two baby! thanks for all the love on the first! ✨taglist is open✨ i’m smoochin’ all your faces

— — —

sarah bustled around her room like it was on fire. her clothes were thrown messily on her floor and she had half of her hair up in a crazy-looking bun. you laughed from where you snuggled into her pillow. you were still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, having woken up to the closet doors groaning open.

“oh my god, where the hell did i put them?” sarah said, but you knew she wasn’t asking you in particular. her hands dug through a basket in her closet.

sitting up, you figured now was as good a time as any to get moving. with sarah leaving soon, you didn’t feel comfortable just lying in her bed like she insisted. given that you were best friends, and her house was your house, and vice versa, you jumped at the opportunity of leaving. she always offered the possibility of you staying longer than you wanted because she was a good friend.

which was why when you cleared your throat and tasted her brother, your cheeks lit up with a steady burning fire. you were glad her back was to you as she switched bikini tops, replacing the blue for the yellow. were you ashamed or reminiscing? there wasn’t time to think about it as she finished getting ready.

“you’re more than welcome to stay, you know. i feel bad running out on you.” sarah repeated once more.

“it’s fine. go have fun with john b and fill me in later.” you wiggled your eyebrows at her as you gathered your things and threw on your sweatshirt.

“how about we order some takeout and binge watch how to get away with murder next weekend?”

“that would be great.”

sarah beamed at you before leading you out of her room and down the stairs. you kept your eyes straight but noted the ajar door to rafe’s room. maybe he had already left for the day.

“morning!” rose chirped happily as you followed sarah into the kitchen. it all seemed very familiar as you walked in, even though you’d been in the cameron’s kitchen more times than you could count, but also because the last time had been less than six hours ago.

everybody was awake and doing something. wheezie was eating freezer waffles, ward had a few manila folders splayed in front of him on the table, and rose was cutting up oranges. sarah gave her a hug from behind as she passed and then turned to smack rafe’s back lightly as he cooked something on the stove.

you breathed in sharply at the sight of him. you blinked last night’s events away given that his entire family was right in front of you and now was not the time to think about it. you reminded yourself not to give anything away with your best friend in the same room. but you also wondered if rafe thought the same thing. would he try to hide it?

“you two sleep okay? i turned the air off since it was so nice out last night.” rose said.

you caught rafe’s eye when he looked over, that tiny jolt going up your arms. your feet melted into the floor and rose looked over at you with a sweet smile as sarah leaned on her other side.

“i was pretty comfortable,” sarah shrugged and took a slice of orange.

“you girls hungry? i’m sure rafe could make something up.”

“i’m going out with john b. he should be here in a few minutes.”

“y/n?” rose lifted her perfect brows as you stood at the end of the island, holding all of your things tightly.

“i’m actually going to head out,” you said. “thank you for the offer though.”

“aw, are you sure?” rose set down the knife on the cutting board. rafe glanced over his shoulder as the contents of the pan sizzled.

“yes. thank you though. i’ll see you guys again soon.” you hugged rose when she came toward you and you waved to sarah and the rest of the family at the table. you and rafe looked at each other once more before you walked out.

—

“oooh, look at these! i love these! how much?”

“12 dollars. they would go great with your top actually.”

“you’re so right! i’ll take them.”

the customer beamed at you as they handed over the set of sea glass earrings. you rang them up and returned some change before wrapping the jewelry in tissue paper and sealing it with the boutique’s sticker. you placed the wrapped gift carefully into a tiny reusable bag and handed it over.

“have a good day,” you smiled your noteworthy customer service smile and relaxed once they left, the front doorbell going off.

it wasn’t that you hated your job. but you hated your job. the main reason was that it was part time, and the second main reason was because you hated working in retail. it was exhausting having to put on a fake smile and answer stupid questions like whether or not you sold earrings when you literally worked in a jewelry store. it was tiring really, if only for four hours a day.

thankfully, you were due to clock out in about fifteen minutes and you couldn’t wait. you busied yourself with cleaning a few displays then restocking some with new styles your boss, the owner, had batched out the week before. 

“hey, y/n,” you looked up at your co-worker coming through the front door. your shoulders tensed as the cheery doorbell went off, but the arrival of your co-worker was always a relief.

“did you dye your hair again?” you eyed their bright locks as they went behind the counter and situated themselves for the rest of the day.

“yup and i think i’ll stick with it for a while. you like?”

“it’s bright.” you tried to say it as politely as you could. “maybe you’ll bring in more customers.”

they laughed at your comment and disappeared into the back. you turned to the display and set a few necklaces down.

once you gathered your things and said goodbye to your boss in the back office, you waved to your co-worker and toned out the bell above your head as you left.

the main street where the boutique was was swarming like a beehive. it was tourist season after all and there was nothing better to do on the island than shop or laze around at the beach. the island was perfect since both activities didn’t require much travel.

you glanced into a few windows as you walked down the sidewalk, dodging a couple kids with heaping amounts of ice cream on a tiny cone. the sun beat down from above and it was a wonder that the ice cream hadn’t already melted down their wrists.

your ears perked up at the sound of a car horn and a second later a truck was pulling up right beside you. looking over curiously, you recognized the gray truck and the person behind the wheel. your stomach leaped.

“hey.” rafe called from his seat as you both came to a stop.

“hi.” you said, feeling frozen momentarily.

“do you want a ride?” he asked in a hopeful tone that you couldn’t stop thinking about once it left his mouth.

you hadn’t seen or heard from him in a couple days since your sleepover with sarah and a part of you didn’t think you’d talk to him again until you went back to his house. you thought it was weird that he didn’t text you or even call, but then you reminded yourself that he was your best friend’s brother, and she didn’t know about what had happened between you two. you wondered if she would be angry with you.

you thought about accepting his offer, seeing no real harm in it. it was only a fifteen-minute walk otherwise. but something drove you to say yes and before you knew it, you were grabbing ahold of the door handle.

“thanks.” you said as you settled into the passenger’s seat. he pulled away from the curb easily as you put your seatbelt on, listening for the satisfying click of the lock.

“you just get out of work?” he asked, making small talk.

“yeah.” you nodded and glanced at his arm. the vein taunted you as he reached out to fiddle with the radio. you shifted in your seat. “what were you doing?”

“i had to drop some stuff off at the post office for my dad and work. i saw you walking and figured i could offer you a ride. even though you don’t live far.” he said with a soft shrug.

“i appreciate it.” you said and looked out the rolled down window.

you watched the cement walkway disappear and turn into the fine sand along the shoulder of the road. houses started to litter the street instead of the businesses and storefronts. you could hear the sand under rafe’s tires and you closed your eyes for a moment to focus on the breeze. you opened them back up when you felt the ghost of rafe’s fingers in your hair.

looking away from the dusty shoulder, you set your gaze on the road stretched before you. rafe kept a lose hand on the very top of the wheel, his other resting in his lap. you swallowed and licked your lips. 

“rafe?”

“yeah?”

willing yourself to look up at him, trying to act quickly before he reached your house, you stared at the side of his face. he glanced over quickly then back to the road.

“don’t bring me home.” you said in a small voice, hoping the question didn’t lead to rejection.

his eyes flicked to your face, his jaw flexing. “okay. where do you want to go?”

you let your gaze waver, wandering down his chin to his neck where he visibly swallowed. did you make him nervous?

“just somewhere private,” you said.

you wet your lips when he looked at you again, your eyes trailing from his neck to his face. your hands were itching to reach across and touch him, but they settled on fidgeting in your lap. when you looked out the windshield again, you saw your yellow front door pass by as rafe continued to drive. you took a deep breath in.

after a couple turns and the road turning into more sand, rafe pulled to a dead end in front of the marsh. the engine cut off with a turn of the ignition key and fizzled out to let the lapping water fill the car. you kept your eyes on the small bay ahead, spotting a dragonfly whizzing by over the water. letting the marsh sounds fill your ears, it seemed to calm your nerves.

you nervously glanced at rafe in the quiet cab of the truck. you wondered what was going through his head. he turned his eyes to you, letting them linger around your face. you swallowed.

giving a mental swift kick to your own rear, you looked over your shoulder into the back seat and unbuckled yourself. you slipped the strap of your bag off your shoulder and left it in the seat as you twisted and crawled over the console. rafe watched you, a dumbfounded smile making its way onto his lips.

you laughed when you saw it. “come on,” you patted to the seat beside you and scooted to the right so he’d have enough room.

rafe looked gigantic when he turned in his seat, bumping into the wheel and nearly pushing on the horn. you grinned as you watched him, the simple journey into the backseat seeming so wild. it felt like you were somewhere you shouldn’t be with someone your parents had warned you about. your parents loved rafe actually.

his knee bumped into yours once he was settled and situated. the space was too small for the two of you but you liked feeling his skin against yours. it also felt much more private than the open windows in the front.

looking over at rafe, you let your hand fall easily to his knee. he shifted his top half and closed most of the space between you, bringing an arm to rest atop the seat behind you. you breathed softly, trying not to show how fast your heart had started to thrum.

your eyes flicked down to rafe’s lips and you thought about how you didn’t know what they felt like.

“what are you thinking?” you asked as you licked your own lips.

rafe reached a hand up to your cheek, finally touching you and nearly drawing a moan from your throat as you leaned into his touch. when had you become so touch-starved? well, you could probably answer that.

“how badly i want to kiss you right now.”

you let out a breath as he looked down at your open and ready mouth. you both leaned in and finally kissed, rafe’s lips capturing yours and yours capturing his. your hand moved to his neck. his fingers on your cheek traveled into your hair again. you didn’t mean to make a noise but come on! you loved feeling his fingers in your hair.

“how i have you in my truck, in my backseat.” he pulled away to say, in a near whisper, then kissed you again. he licked into your mouth and it was difficult to find the words to portray just how amazing it felt. needless to say, your underwear was going to be soaked any second now.

you opened for him and moved closer to eliminate any space between you. he parted from your lips to travel downward. you leaned your head back, happily giving him the access he craved. your breath was coming out heavier now, but you didn’t have that panic of losing your breath like drowning. it was a good situation to lose your breath.

“how it’s been two days and i haven’t stopped thinking about the other night.” he admitted into the thin skin under your jaw. he switched hands, one holding your head in place and the other skimming over your chest. he nipped at your flesh.

“rafe,” you moaned and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

“what do you want?” he asked, his hot breath blowing across your cheeks. you peeked your eyes open and saw tiny flakes of brown in his eyes. his hand traveled further until it landed on your thigh, squeezing and triggering the sweetest of shivers.

“i want your mouth on me.”

pressing a kiss to your lips, rafe pulled away again to look over your face. “are you sure?”

you nodded and let go of his shirt to touch his cheek. you just wanted to feel his mouth everywhere on you.

“please,” you said. you shuffled away from him reluctantly so you could situate yourself on the seat. your head and shoulders rested against the back door and you brought your legs up over his lap, already having slipped your shoes off. he watched you intriguingly. your stomach sank a little, hoping he wasn’t going to turn you down.

when his hands reached toward your bottoms, you couldn’t help the smile that took over your face. he undid the button and tugged them down. lifting your legs so you could open them for him, he leaned forward and pressed a sweet kiss to the inside of your knee. his fingers traced your calf as he shuffled and bent down as awkwardly as possible in the cramped space. you felt bad for a moment until you saw the way he looked up at you. he wanted this just as much as you did.

keeping eye contact with you as he placed his mouth right over your pubic bone, you moaned faintly. it was so delicate and soft that you didn’t expect it to feel that way. he caressed your calf as he pressed another kiss over your underwear, moving lower and lower to where you had soaked them through. your face went a little red, anticipating his reaction to it.

he looked godly as he stared up the expanse of your torso and to your eyes, all the while his lips pressed against your clothed entrance. his groan at the state of your underwear sent ripples out from the exact spot he kissed, like the vibrations of him sent shockwaves through you.

“you’re soaked,” he breathed against you and had you wanting to close your legs. instead, you slipped from his grasp and took your underwear off.

pressing your left leg into the back of the seat, you opened for rafe again. he looked down at you in front of him and licked his lips hungrily.

“god, you’re fucking pretty.”

you bit your lip at the way he looked at you, like he wanted to go to town. you were all for it really, but with the way he’d been touching you so far you had a feeling he’d be super gentle.

taking your leg and guiding it over his shoulder, he pressed a kiss to your thigh. then he finally tasted you with a savoring lick between your folds. it felt so good that he even hummed against you. you moaned in return and slipped your eyes closed. you needed something to hold on to. searching for the seat, you reached up to that tiny metal pole of the headrest and curled your fingers around it. it was cool and grounded you to where you were.

rafe licked another stripe, making a delicious noise with his tongue. you were sure if you weren’t so aroused that you’d gag at the sound.

one of his hands moved to your hip now, his skin rough and warm against yours. a gasp left your lips as you flinched without much thought, your leg over his shoulder tightening. they were all caused by rafe’s tongue brushing over your clit, something you hadn’t expected yet. you surely welcomed it when he did it again after feeling your reaction. he did it softly the second time around and you felt him shift below you before one of his fingers appeared at your entrance.

“fuck,” you whispered mostly to yourself. rafe pulled away a second later and you gasped as his finger coated in your arousal before pushing into you at the same time he reconnected with your clit.

you moaned lowly from the back of your throat. “rafe, that feels so good.”

he spent a few seconds sucking on you until he disappeared again. “look at me,” he said with a squeeze to your hip. his finger continued to move.

you breathed through your mouth as you opened your eyes and looked down at him. his seemed a smidge darker, but he held a sweet and fascinated smile on his lips.

“do you want another?”

“y-yes, please.”

you reached down and grabbed ahold of his wrist on your hip. your fingers tightened around the headrest at the same time. rafe pushed in another and returned to your clit, his tongue moving. you moaned as you watched him, wondering why you had even closed your eyes in the first place. he looked heavenly between your legs, and it felt even better.

pulling his fingers out, he brought them to his lips and licked them clean. “fuck, you taste so good, baby.”

you whimpered the next moment when he wrapped his hand around your thigh and licked up your folds. both of your hands let go to attach to his hair, your fingers spreading and pulling.

rafe’s mouth worked over you a bit quicker this time and you could tell he was losing himself in it, but you were enjoying it. it was startling when his tongue dipped into you and he pulled away only to spit, but it blew your mind. he licked widely up to your clit then, mixing everything in to one as he closed his mouth over the sensitive mound.

“oh my god.”

you felt your muscles tightening in your abdomen and the familiar feeling of wanting to move, of wanting to release. your feet tensed, a white-hot fervor starting in your toes.

“fuck, rafe, i’m going to come.” you gasped. “make me come, please, please.”

rafe obliged, his tongue flicking over you and causing your muscles to tighten even more. your eyes pricked with tears; your legs tightened on either side of him. he held them open and you wanted to curse him out for not letting you close them, to trap him in place and never have him stop.

your hips lifted off the seat, bucking against his face as you grew closer. you thought you were ripping his hair out when you came undone, moaning loudly out into the truck, to the marsh. seconds later, your grip loosened on his scalp as he licked you clean, catching everything on his tongue.

pressing a kiss to your thigh, rafe pulled away slowly and sat up. you lay there for a moment, collecting yourself and catching your breath. the muscles in your legs felt like they liquified, but you could feel them harden again to help you move. the fire in your toes died out, a pulse still existent from your release. 

“thank you.” you said to rafe as you sat up and pulled your underwear back on tiredly. you looked over to find him watching you with a soft smile and a subtle dent in his shorts. “can i do something for you?” you asked, nodding toward his lap.

rafe glanced down then shook his head at you. “no, that’s okay. i liked just tasting you.”

he didn’t say anything else as he brushed your hair over your shoulder and pressed a kiss there. his hand ran down your back. you grinned at your lap, holding your shorts and wondering where to go from there. rafe’s hand felt nice, his thumb rubbing gently. when you looked over at him, he leaned in and kissed you slowly. his hand moved up to the back of your neck while one of yours reached to touch his jaw.

“i should get home,” you said when you broke apart. you found those brown specks again and wanted nothing more than to analyze them further, but if you didn’t show your face at home soon, your phone would be interjecting in your time with rafe.

he nodded in understanding and moved apart from you so you could pull your shorts back on. “when can i see you again?” 

it was such a stupid thing to make your heart leap in your chest. it even made your body flush as if it already wasn’t.

you grinned at him. “you have my number.”

he nodded again and moved in for another kiss. you reciprocated and gave it your all, hoping that if he hadn’t already decided, that he’d call you or text you tonight. it was thrilling to think about the next time you’d see him.

⭐️taglist of beauties & babes!⭐️

@tovvaa​ @fttayla @dontjinx-it @moniamaybank @drewstarkeygf @cheshirecat107​ @jjmaybankzz​ @obxcunt @honeyyhemmings @dvakat @macey730 @twinklelilstarkey @disrecpectful @prettylilwolf-blog @jjcanloveme @ityagirljay @igotmajordaddyissues​

[wolffe-simp]

Talk Some Sense To Me (Part 1)

The Bad Batch are left to babysit an outsider when the Jedi agree that Clone Force 99 need to have an eye kept on them at all times, but something isn't quite right with them and they catch the eye of a certain sniper.

Word Count: 2364

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma, Crosshair is an ass like always, teachable lessons for the boys.

I am hoping to turn this into a small series along with "Heart Of a Wolf" which will be getting a part 2 soon.

There were those that followed the order of the universe to ensure the balance of life, then there was clone force 99, a team of defected clones who spit on the orders given to them so that they could follow their own style. It had always been them, brothers, until the end of the line. That was how they liked it, they lived in their own little world among the war, being who they wanted to be in this world without a care. That was until the Jedi council made the ultimate decision to assign them to a general that would possibly put the clones in their place and stop them from causing as much havoc as they usually did. Hunter had to be the one to break the news to his brothers, expecting the angered voices of most of them, they had never had some outsider keeping them in check like misbehaving children. Echo was the only one that had been okay with the concept, not that he didn't understand why his brothers were upset, but because he had been a reg before all this and was use to serving under a Jedi general. "Just what we need, some Kriffing idiot who is probably so far up on their high horse that they couldn't care less about what happens to us." Crosshair fumed, angrily swirling his toothpick around his mouth. "For once, I agree, its likely we have been put under the command of a very irrational diplomat." Tech called out from under the Havoc cockpit, fixing a few bits of damage that had been made on their last mission. "I think we shouldn't jump to conclusions before we meet them." Echo argued, trying to talk some sense into his team. "Echo is right, we cannot judge them before we meet the, we aren't like the regs." Hunter added his input. "Yeah, Echo has a point." Wrecker mumbled, even though he himself had been against the idea only moments ago. Crosshair ripped his toothpick from his mouth and tossed it away with a flick of his fingers before crossing his arms over his chest and looking away, grumbling under his breath. "You know, not everyone was on board with this decision." A new voice suddenly piped up from behind Hunter, causing them all to turn towards the source. Standing there was who they suspected to be their new general, but the female could have easily been mistaken as a worker or a possibly senator. She definitely didn't look like she belonged on a military base, a girl like this belonged to more than all this, she seemed far too pure and far to young to have the position she had among the ranks. "I was quite against it, not because I don't like you or anything, I mean I don't personally know you but I understand that you value the freedom you had and that you don't want that taken from you and.....I'm just gonna be quiet now." She cut off her rambling as she noticed them staring at her, a mix of angry, deadpanned or confused faces just watching her. "Well....its nice to meet you General, I'm Hunter and these are my brothers, Echo, Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker." The Sargent spoke, pointing to each of his teammates in turn so that the General would be able to tell them apart. "Nice to meet you all, you can just call me (Y/N)." The female couldn't meet their eyes, which was unusual behaviour for someone of her status, normally a general was confident and sure, looking them in the eyes and commanding respect. Yet here she was, acting as if she was a soldier being scolded by her commanding officer. "We are sorry you had to hear all that, if you'd like, I can show you to your bunk." Echo was quick to offer, sensing a tension building in the air, the clone could already see Crosshairs lips twitching with the desperate need to make a rather vile comment towards the general. "Don't worry, I've had worse...." She replied, her lips falling into a small frown. Echo offered her a comforting smile and led her inside the Maurader, showing her to the back of the ship where a makeshift bed had been made. It wasn't much as the ship hardly accommodated the clones, yet they had somehow made it work by thinking outside of the box, some even had to share rooms to ensure their was enough space on the ship for the

important things. (Y/N) didn't mind how bare and small it was though, the fact they had the faintest decency to build a place for her to stay was enough, even if the thought was mingled with the question of how easily they could get rid of her. She put her bag down in on of the corners. humming as she scanned the room, a simple room for a simple person. "Bit of paint and it will look like a palace." She joked, earning a small chuckle from Echo. "I am glad you like it." He said before nodding his head in farewell and leaving to go and help Tech on those repairs. Once alone, (Y/N) sighed heavily and placed her head in a hand while the other wrapped around her waist. She was far from ready for this, she had barely recovered from her previous mission, which had been an absolute failure and resulted in the death of her entire squad along with her capture. What were the Jedi council thinking? She had barely come to terms with everything and now they were throwing her back into the deep end and hoping she could move on like nothing has every happened. Her dreams were haunted by the loss of the clones she had come to call friends and here she was, expected to just blindly lead another clone squad, a squad who didn't even want her. For hours, she stayed in her room, lost in her own torturous thoughts. Even when Tech had fixed the ship, even when they had all come back onboard to do their chores, she had not made another appearance. At some point, Hunter had passed by her room, skidding to a stop when he head a small, pained sob. Out of curiosity, he wanted to check in and make sure she was okay. But then again, she probably didn't want to be comforted by someone she hardly knew. He had no idea why she was upset, a part of him suspected it was because of what had been said earlier. He sighed and joined his team in the main living area, keeping this to himself, he didn't want Crosshair using this as fuel to get rid of the general. After a while, he pulled Tech to the side, speaking in hushed voices. "Hey Tech, can you do me a favour?" "Depends." "I need you to find everything you can on the General." Tech have Hunter a confused look, mulling it over in his head before nodding. It seemed quite logical to look into their General, after all, they needed to know if she could be trusted. (Y/N) didn't emerge until it was time for dinner, she had washed her face of evidence, not wanting the clones to see her weakness. She couldn't be weak in front of them, especially because of how much they hated her, it would just give them a reason to dislike her even more. No clone squad wanted to be led by a general who cried at the most trivial things, even if those things weren't so trivial to her. She leaned against the doorway to the main living area, catching the eyes of Hunter and Echo, offering them each a smile that barely touched her eyes. They seemed to be the only ones who tolerated her and that was enough for her right now. "Finally, the princess has graced us with her presence." Crosshair sneered from his spot on the bench, regarding her with disgust. "Guess that makes you a peasant." She retorted with a small roll of her eyes. "Means you won't be able to eat with us higher ups." Her comment made the others chuckle a little, watching as Crosshair tightened his jaw in anger. But (Y/N) just ignored him, sensing another comment lingering on the lip of his tongue. "Tomorrow, we have been requested to make our way to a small backwater planet to scout some separatist activity." She spoke calmly, looking at the rest of the squad. "Right now, I want you to all to eat and rest up, I was just on my way to the mess hall if you'd all like to join me." "Ah Yeah! I'm starving!" Wrecker cheered, his face lighting up at the mention of food. "I think we all are." Hunter scoffed, smiling affectionately at his brothers childishness. "I think a team dinner would be a good idea, lead the way General." (Y/N) nodded and made her way off the ship, followed by her team, including a moody Crosshair. As they made their way to the mess hall, (Y/N)

made small talk with Wrecker and Echo, listening to a few stories they had to share about their previous missions. At one point, Wrecker tried to tell her about how Crosshair and Hunter had been tricked by some Twi'leks that worked for the Hutts but was quickly shushed by the sniper who was clearly embarrassed by the story. Even when they had got their food and sat on one of the far table in the corner, Wrecker was still more than happy to boast about his brothers, even when he was stuffing his mouth with food. (Y/N) laughed and shook her head, slowly picking at her own food, barely able to eat anything. Then came a question that had her whole body tensing, her mind reeling with memories of a time she wished she could go back and change. "So General, what about you? What kind of adventures have you had?" Tech had asked, his question innocent and simple, he simply wanted to get to know the person he was going to work with. "Shopping trips and pedicures don't count as adventures, Tech." Crosshair scoffed, focused mostly on his food. (Y/N) stared down at her tray of food, feeling her heart clench painfully in her chest. Her fingers tingled, remembering when her captain had held her hand as the light faded from his eyes, telling her it wasn't her fault. The night before, he had held her hand like that, only this time it as because he was afraid to wake up back on Kamino as if his life held no meaning whatsoever. Her squad had usually slept in positions where at least one part of their body touched hers, they were so close that they had always been afraid of waking up and losing the others. It was still hard to think that she had lost them all in the same day, unable to save them from enemy hands, she was suppose to protect them. She didn't realise she was struggling to breath until she felt a hand rest on her shoulder, making her jump back to reality, trying to calm her racing heart. She turned her head to look at the person, only to come face to face with a familiar clone, the one who had been there for her even in her darkest times. "Cody...." She breathed in relief, reaching up a hand to rest it over his. "General." He greeted with a smile, taking his hand away as he sat next to her with his own tray of food, silently offering her a supporting force so she didn't become overwhelmed by her own thoughts. "To answer your question Tech, the General has had many adventures. You should have seen the time she kicked a droid head across the battlefield and knocked the tactical off of its tank. I've never seen General Kenobi laugh so much at such a daft thing but (Y/N) sure has quite a temper for someone so small." Cody laughed, recalling a moment he had spent with (Y/N) during her time in the GAR, they had many memories together, both good and bad. Right now, he knew she needed to be reminded of the good times. Cody was more than happy to chat with Clone force 99, even happier to take their attention off of (Y/N) for now. Sadly, they was no mistaking that they noticed how she acted when Tech asked about her adventures in the field, there seemed to be something about their General that she was keeping from them. Usually, they wouldn't pry into such matters but if it endangered their brothers then they had to find out what she was keeping from them. (Y/N) was staring at her tray, hardly listening to Cody when something smooth and cool landed on one of her hands. She slowly lifted her head, seeing the smiling face of Echo looking at her, his metal hand covering hers. She stared at it for a moment, slowly turning her hand over so it was in her palm, slender fingers wrapping around it. She knew she wasn't alone in the darkness that clouded her mind and somehow, she knew that Echo understood her. He had known the pain he could see in her eyes and he hoped that he and his brothers could help bring back whatever spark she had once had, exactly like the Bad Batch had done for him.

This is just a set up to the story, I hope you like it. Been a bit too busy for writing but I am slowly getting back into it. I am also, trying and failing at drawing a concept for Plo Koon's daughter for "Heart of a Wolf"

[cayofdreams]

Vengeance = Repentance

PART 1: VENGEANCE

Summary: Reader had bullied Todoroki throughout all his time in high school. Years later, after a reconnection during an after-work drinking session, she goes back to his place, naively unaware of the payback he has planned for her…

Words: 4.1k

Rating: Explicit, Smut (in part 2)

Warnings: bullying by reader in beginning, murderous thoughts by Todoroki, Dark!Todoroki, drugging

(no smut in the first part, just immense build-up)

Notes: I could not for the life of me think of an interesting Todo fic to write. Until...THIS baby popped into my mind. It was actually really challenging and fun to write what goes on in the mind of Dark!Todoroki. I hope I did it justice.

~~~

He hated you.

Sometimes the only reason he had for living was simply to see the day that you’d be six feet under a cold batch of dirt. You’d be all alone down there with no one to control. No one to manipulate. No one to blackmail or threaten.

You’d have no lackey to run around and get you sweet bread from the convenience store. No lookout to make sure any teachers came to catch the abominable acts you committed in the bathroom stall or behind the gymnasium. No rich father to make sure that whatever horrible deeds you committed that were reported were swept gracefully under a rug.

And most importantly, you wouldn’t have him. The target of all your psychological and physical abuse. The one person who constantly fulfilled your insatiably engorged sadistic ego.

“Heyyy~ Shou, can you come here for a sec?” You had called out to your bi-colored haired classmate from the threshold of the class’ door. The twitch in his shoulders in reaction to your voice made you chuckle. Todoroki slowly slid his chair back, making a scratching noise against the tiled floor, and got up. He walked up towards you with his eyes trailing the floor.

“Yes?”

“Ohh! So obedient today, aren’t we? Hehe- It was only a matter of time I suppose.” You smiled your disgustingly innocent smile at him. “I need you to check something for me. It’s important, okay?”

He stayed silent as he watched you move the hand that was behind your back out forward. You had a carton of milk in your hand, and it seemed to have already been open. He saw you put the carton to your nose and sniff harshly from where the opening was before shoving the carton into his chest. A bit of milk spilled out and dripped onto his uniform.

“This milk. It smells kinda funky. I want you to check it for me.”

“…If it smells funny then it’s probably-“

“Did I ask for your cheap opinion? Just do the favor, alright?” You frustratingly squeezed the carton in your hand which made even more milk spurt out and land on your hand as well as Todoroki’s uniform again. “Ugh! Shit! Look what you made me do! From being so obstinate.”

“Sorry…” He took the carton from your hand. It was practically half full now so he wondered why you even still cared so much. But he didn’t ask. He put the carton to his nose and sniffed to try and find a rotten smell to it. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Are you stupid? Not like that, idiot. You’ll never know if its bad if you check like that.” You quickly took the milk from him and raised it in the air. “You have to check like this~” You began to slowly pour the rest of the carton’s contents onto his head, completely soaking his silky hair and ruining his uniform even more. The milk drenched into his shirt and he could feel its cool wetness trickle his skin. “Ahaha! Weeell?? Is it bad or not, Shouutoo??”

There was a loud commotion of hoots and hollers from the other classmates as they watched your tormenting of Todoroki.

“Uwaah!! Milk boy got dunked on again!!”

“Gross! He’s gonna smell so bad later…”

“Dude! Go wash up! You’re gonna make the whole class smell like milk!”

“Krrgh..” Todoroki choked up in frustration, his hands balled into a fist. The fact he couldn’t just punch you right now could drive him to a point of enraged insanity.

The fact he had to let you get away with this over and over again just because of your father’s notorious connections with various government and business groups. He sometimes thought about just killing you anyway and dealing with the consequences. Prison would be more manageable than continuing to live in this same physical plane as you.

He thought about how he’d do it, too. If he would try to do it inconspicuously with poison, or conspicuously with his hands wrapped around your slender little throat. The former lead to more chances of him getting away with it. He could have the pleasure of your death along with his freedom. But the latter…the latter was just too enticing to pass up. Being able to hear your gargled whimpers attempting to beg for your life. Your legs that would try to kick and pry him off your weak body. Your face losing its color as your body is abruptly deprived of oxygen. And finally, his personal favorite, your bloodshot eyes that would be pleading for him to give you mercy before finally greying out.

Yes…the latter would have to do. Time in prison would be a beautiful cost to pay to see you perish under his fingers. The world would thank him later, for getting rid of their waste. Your death would serve as your repentance

But he was weak. Scared. He couldn’t find the conviction he needed to actually go through with it. It made him feel even worse. Maybe you were never wrong, and he was truly as spineless as you treated him.

But he’d get stronger. He had to. He needed to. He craved to.

-------------------------9 YEARS LATER-------------------------

“Good job on closing the deal, Todo!”

Todoroki had felt a harsh pat on his back before a heavy arm was slung over his shoulder by his spikey red haired coworker as he was grabbing his blazer off the chair.

“It was nothing, Kirishima.” He replied coolly but not without a small twinge of a smile.

“Ha! ‘It was nothing’ he says!” The energetic man turned his head around to face everyone else in the office. “Hey! Everyone! Pay attention to this guy right here! You might become the most successful businessman this country has to offer!”

The office chuckled and gave soft cheers for Todoroki, some of them poking fun at Kirishima’s exuberant display of comradery.

“Todo! Kiri! You guys are coming out for drinks, right!” Another one of Todoroki’s energetic co-workers, this time with bright yellow hair, briskly jogged up towards them. “I already invited the ladies!”

“Totally, dude! Where are we supposed to be going?”

“Heights Alliance! That bar has the best drinks and food a guy could ask for. Not to mention cute girls!

Todoroki softly brushed off the arm of Kirishima before putting his jacket on. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Aw! Come on dude!” This time, the yellow-haired co-worker placing his arm around Todoroki’s shoulder. “You alllways bail on us! Come with us this time! Drinks on Kiri!”

“Hey, Kaminari! Don’t decide that for yourself!” Kirishima retorted. “But yeah, man. You should come out. We miss you sometimes, dude.”

Todoroki hesitated as he contemplated his fellow workers’ requests. Honestly, he had never gone out to just...have fun. He would clog his mind with work which was probably why he was successful anyways. He didn’t even know why he was so disciplined when it came to his career. Not knowing what his goals even were. Focusing primarily on work, but for what? To just deny any moments of pleasure or belonging?

Maybe it was time for a change.

“…Alright.”

“Wooo!!! Todo is officially on board!”

The loudness of the cheers of his coworkers rang stingingly through his eardrums but he couldn’t suppress the smile that stemmed on his face.

As he had the feeling tonight would be an unforgettable night.

-------------------------------------------------

Todoroki sighed as he sipped the last of his drink and placed it softly on the counter in front of him. He sat alone as he thought about what he was even doing there. The entire evening basically constituting to watching his co-workers ramble on about various subjects that he could not get the meaning behind. After a while of heavy drinking, that he did not participate in, everyone either went bar-hopping or went home passed out in a taxi. He truly did not understand the purpose of such gatherings and he started to wonder how he’d even fit into society.  

As he thought to himself, the sudden words from the bartender disrupted his thoughts.

“Oh hey, Y/N. Long time, no see.”

The abrupt sound of your name made him widen his eyes and his body unconsciously jolt in the barstool. Was it really the same Y/N? No, it couldn’t be. Surely there were a bountiful amount of people with names that were similar to yours. But he had to check for himself, so he looked up from his empty glass and-

“Haha…Shinsou. Looking as gorgeously sleepy as ever. How are you?”

The sounds of your conversation with the bartender drowned out with the rest of the bustled atmosphere as he glared upon you. Without a doubt, it was you. He could never forget that figure. That figure that towered over him menacingly even though he was taller than you. That figure that just watched from a distance as you sent your delinquent underlings to pummel him into the cold cement. That figure who would bow respectfully to teachers when they dismissed any reports of your lechery. And now that same figure was only a few feet away from him, sitting gracefully at the bar counter as you talked to the unknowing bartender.

His glare locked long enough onto your figure for you to finally meet his eyes. And before he could look away, you had called out to him.

“Eh..? To…Todoroki?” You had softly called out to him. Using his name in a way that he had never heard from you before. Using a voice that harshly contradicted the patronizing tone you barked commands at him with. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”. You were smiling at him. Smiling at him as if he were a longtime friend that you missed connections with due to one of you going abroad.

You had hopped out of the barstool and approached your old classmate, taking a new seat beside him. He looked over at the wall of drinks displayed in front him, avoiding your gazing. “Wow…you’re all grown up now, huh?” You looked over to the bartender raising your hand at him. “Shinsou~ A refill on whatever he had, okay? Make it two actually.” The bartender simply nodded at you before mixing up various alcohol and flavors behind the counter.

“I..I don’t want to drink.” Todoroki shivered at his own statement as he was reminded of the times you’d scream at him for not doing something you’d ask.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous. It’s on me, okay? Don’t worry about it.” You had inched your head more over the counter trying to get a better look at him. “Your hair…I always thought it was dyed. But I guess its real, huh.” You reached your hand out to run your fingertips through his silky bi-colored bangs. He twitched at your touch.

What exactly were you doing? Acting so innocent with him like this. Were you just going to pretend like the three-year long trauma you subjected him to was a fable? An illusion? Or perhaps you had minimized the damage you’d done in your mind in order to preserve your own sanity as you took over a new life.

“...Y/N. What are you doing?”

You quirked your eyebrows in confusion at his question. “What do you mean? I just…I just think your hair is really pretty is all.”

Were you faking it? Was this another one of your atrocious jokes? Perhaps within the next minute you’d start cackling at him, asking him how he could be stupid enough to believe he deserved such niceties from the likes of you.

Todoroki looked down and squeezed the empty glass on the counter. “Don’t you…don’t you remember? What you did to me?”

“Todoroki…” You lowered your eyebrows in sorrow. “I-I’m sorry for what I did to you back then. I was indeed…a cruel person. I know you probably won’t accept that…but I still want to tell you. You at least deserve my apology. As cheap as it is.”

He looked over to you, surprised at your apologetic tone. He gazed into your e/c eyes. The very e/c eyes that captured the hearts of everyone around you, yet seethed supremacy and calamity toward him. He had learned to distrust anyone with eyes that resembled yours. The eyes that were now looking at him with…

Remorse. Your eyes were burdening in remorse. As soon as Todoroki saw the guilt that dwelled in your eyes he knew that this wasn’t a joke. That you weren’t pretending to feel these things. The look in your eyes unquestionably conveyed the apology you had stated earlier.

And it was that same look that would ascend an unusual beast that lurked within the visceral regions of his body. An unfamiliar thirst that stayed submerged within him, never needing to be satisfied until now. It gurgled within the depths of his gut, practically wanting to vomit out of his esophagus.

A beast that went by the name of revenge. And it would be so easy to pursue it right now with the plague of repentance beating in your heart.

Todoroki placed one of his hands on yours and squeezed tightly. Your skin was so soft, so smooth. He could never take the time to feel how delicate your skin was when the only touch of yours he knew before was the stinging slaps you’d deliver on his face. But tonight, he’d be able to feel something more, and the touch of his hands on yours only made the beast inside of him grow more and more unruly.

“I forgive you, Y/N.” He tried to state it in the softest way possible, making sure the feigning of the line wouldn’t be discovered. However, he knew you believed him by the twinkle in your eye, signifying an immense weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“Todoroki…” A warm tear dropped from your cheek to his hand. “Thank you, Todoroki… thank you.” More tears would soon follow and drop onto his hand. He would’ve let go of you if he wasn’t so encapsulated by the feeling of your salty waters dropping onto his skin. As your tears cooled and dried up into his hand, he couldn’t have felt more enthused.

It was only then that Todoroki could take in the beauty that was your face. You looked so elegant like that, with pools of emotions trailing down your cheeks. Maybe if he’d seen this site of you in high school he’d had instantly fell in love. But such feelings didn’t reside in him anymore. They’d been evicted by the lurking beast of revenge, and that beast was craving more of this site from you.

“Two Vieux Carre cocktails” The bartender had placed the drinks on the counter in front of each of you before grabbing something under the counter. “…and a tissue”. He handed the soft fabric to you which made you giggle a bit.

“Thank you, Shinsou.”

He simply hummed a reply at you and returned to making drinks for other patrons that had walked in.

While you wiped away the allure that was your tears, Todoroki sat there, thinking of prolific strategies of how to get you under his grip. Should he just ask you to come home with him? Wouldn’t that be too straight forward? He didn’t know much about social interactions, but he knew asking a woman at a bar to come home with him had its underlying implications. And its not that he was undesired by women; he knew of the colleagues in his office that held romantic feelings for him. He just never followed through with any of them, never feeling anything close to the desires that were brought for him.

He also couldn’t help but feel subconscious about asking you to come home with him. You were the person that so incredibly ridiculed him for three years. You were still the same person who made him believe that no sane person would ever look twice at him. That he was too weak and monotonous to ever make someone feel happy.

Or were you? It seemed that whatever life change you went through caused you to redevelop your entire personality. Maybe you’d be like most the women he encountered in his life and become attracted to him? After-all, he also wasn’t the same person as he was in high school. He’d become stronger mentally and physically as well as much more confident about himself.

“Y/N, would you like to…finish drinking at my home?”

You stopped drying your tears at the suddenness of the question. “Huh?...You actually want me in your home?”

“Only if you want to.” Todoroki squeezed your hand again attempting to signal the desire to have you with him in private.

Blood rose to your nose and you looked away in embarrassment. “…Okay.”

Todoroki couldn’t stop the widening of his eyes at your acceptance. A part of him truly believed you’d call him disgusting before jumping up and delivering one of your characteristic slaps to his face. The heavens knew just how badly that needed to happen. If you’d rejected him, the beast of revenge may have gone right back to where it resided, deep in the subconscious of his mind.

But no, you’d accepted him. And with that, you’d accept your punishment. If you were truly ready to take on a new life, you would need to repent for your old one.

------------------------------------------------------------

Todoroki couldn’t stop the erratic beating of his heart as the two of you walked over the threshold into his house. He was closer and closer to fulfilling the dream of having you within his grips. But he couldn’t be too impatient as this would be the part where he would need to tread carefully. As the two of you took off your shoes, he would continue to watch your every move, like a jaguar stalking its prey.

“Woww!” Your eyes wandered around Todoroki’s living room, amazed at how expansive and beautifully designed it was. “Your house is so luxurious! And polished!” You looked back at Todoroki. “It suits you.”

Todoroki was a bit taken aback by your statement. As far as he knew, you had a rich father who catered to everything your callous heart desired. He was partly the reason behind his suffering seeing as that your father made sure any unpleasantry brought against you was hushed behind a closed door. “You aren’t used to this?” He stepped over to the mini-bar area and reached up to grab a specific bottle of wine.

“Huh?” You followed behind him and leaned against the bar counter, grazing your finger over the refined marble surface.  

“This…kind of house. You aren’t used to it?” He grabbed a corkscrew from the drawer and began to pry off the wine bottle’s cork. “Your father was a rich businessman was he not?”

You scoffed as you rested your elbow on the marble. “My father was in the yakuza. Rich in some aspects, but no businessman.” Your eyes fell from Todoroki to the counter. “And we never got to live in a place anywhere this grand. Especially after he was taken down by the cops…”

“I see.” It made perfect sense honestly. Your yakuza connections would explain the lackeys, the apathy of the teachers towards your lechery, the strange approval of your actions by the entire class. It must’ve been hard behind the scenes having to be the daughter of a yakuza member, but nonetheless it wouldn’t your crimes against his humanity. Todoroki poured two glasses of wine and placed one on the counter next to you.

“Should we…sit on the couch?” You looked towards to main part of the living room, eyes landing on Todoroki’s expensive sectional. “I-I mean…if you want to…”

Todoroki noticed the flustering of your face and couldn’t help but think that if the two of you had met under different pretexts he would surely have made you his wife. But marriage is not what this affair is about. This affair is about satisfying the demon that grew expansively inside of him.

He grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers between yours as he picked up both glasses with his other hand. “I’d love to, Y/N”.

He walked the two of you over to the couch, waiting until you sat down to hand you your glass and sit closely beside you. He carefully watched as you took sips from the glass, mesmerized by the shape of lips and how you’d glossed them for your night out. They looked so soft and delicate and perfectly matched the dimensions of your face.

But your naivety obviously outmatched your beauty Todoroki thought. How could you so easily drink from the hands of someone who would so obviously want to get revenge on you? Did your newfound personality make you oblivious to the dangers of life? Maybe after wanting to permanently discard the remains of the yakuza from your brain, you decided to look at people in a new light. Maybe you wanted to just see the good in everyone and learn that most people aren’t out to destroy you. It is indeed a true thought; most people don’t want to destroy you.

But most people also don’t subject those around them to abhorrent acts of malice. And for that, your naivety would prove to be one of the worst decisions you’d made in your small existence.

“Your wine…it tastes very good.” You had swirled what left of it you had before drinking it all within a couple more gulps.

Probably the best compliment you could have said in your life. Todoroki had taken the time to make sure every speckle of power was completely dissolved into the wine. He couldn’t taste it himself or get a taste tester of course, so he would have just had to wait until your ultimate encountering to test it. And it worked.

“It was a gift from a friend abroad.” A lie. But a believable lie. “I’m glad you like it.”

You quizzingly looked at his still full glass of wine in his hand. “Why didn’t you drink any?”

“Oh...I- well I guess I am already a bit tipsy from the bar so further consumption would be ill-advised.” He smoothy stated before placing the glass on the coffee table in front of the couch.

You giggled at the statement as Todoroki internally cackled at your gullibility.

“You know, Todoroki…” Your eyes strayed to your lap. “I know this must mean nothing coming from me but…I liked you a lot in high school.” You twirled your index finger in circles on your skirt. “And I know I was mean to you but…I believe that our encounter must have been fate because, well…I still like you.”

Todoroki smiled, a cover-up for the guttural laughter that wanted to burst out of him. He let go of your hand and traced his fingers across your cheek before holding the side of your face delicately in his hand. “That…means more than you’d ever know, Y/N.”

“Shouto…”

He leaned over to give you a peck on the cheek before pressing his lips against yours. Your lips were just as soft as they looked and the gloss you wore provided a sweet vanilla taste. You sunk your hand into the red side of his hair before slipping your tongue in between his lips. Your tongue felt hot in his mouth and Todoroki grabbed your head to pull you deeper into the kiss. He tasted every part of your mouth that he could with his tongue. Your teeth, your gums, the inside of your cheeks. He made sure to leave his mark everywhere in your mouth, foreboding to the marks that would soon be left on your body.

As his kiss got deeper, yours became shallower and lazier. Eventually you pressed your hand against his chest to softly get him to back up.

“I’m sorry, Shouto…” You pressed your hand to your forehead. “It seems…I have a headache…and I’m kinda sleepy.” Your eyelids drooped heavily as sleep seemed to overcome you. “I…should go home.”

Shouto grabbed your head and leaned you down on the couch, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Ssshh…its okay Y/N. You can just sleep here for tonight. I’ll drive you back in the morning.”

“Okay…thankyou, Shouto.” You quickly drifted off to sleep at the finish of your sentence.

When Todoroki felt the heaves of your chest raise higher and lower at deeper levels, he picked you up into his arms, carrying you gently to make sure you wouldn’t wake up. Though that was a rare chance seeing as how he put a little extra power in the wine to make sure it would subdue you. He carried you down the corridor to the door that would lead to your demise. Before he walked down the stairs, he whispered into your non-listening ear.

“This encounter is indeed special, Y/N. But it will be more special to you than it will for me…because tonight will mark my vengeance. And tonight will also mark…your repentance.”

[yutahoes]

Valentine’s Day

A little Valentine’s treat. 😁 Gif is not connected to the story, I just love how he smiled at the end.  

genre : fluff

word count : 1.3k words. 

tag list : @ailoveyuta​ @yutazen01​ @aiforyuu​ @cosmiclatte28​ @2-3-t-i​ @puzziw​ @dreamlesswonder86​

It’s Valentine’s Day. The time that you hated the most in the world. Not that you’re anti-love but working as a server in one of the most famous restaurants in towns made you annoyed at the thought of Valentine’s Day. 

“You know if you’re really annoyed, you can just go home early.” Your co-worker, Jungwoo, claimed. You shook your head. Extending time meant more pay and you can’t miss that opportunity. 

By eight pm, the restaurant was already full of couples that you’re annoyed at how it smells like different scents of flowers. You swear you’re going to puke when you see another couple enter the restaurant holding hands. The door opened and you forced yourself to smile to welcome the customer. “Hi.” he greeted and your face fell that instant. He’s pretty. “I have a reservation under Yuta Nakamoto.” You checked the tablet that has the list of guests and nodded, asking him to follow you. 

You directed him to a table for two. Maybe he’s on a date. Well, it’s Valentine’s. “I’m Y/N. I’ll be your server today.” You introduced as protocol and he smiled at you, nodding. “If you need anything, just let me know. Do you want me to bring you the menu now?” 

He shook his head and you thought that he’s somewhat cute. He gave a heavy sigh before you could leave, calling your attention. “Do I look alright?” He asked nervously that made you smile. Truly cute. “I mean, my mom just set up this date and I’m not sure if I look fine.” A blind date. Isn’t that cute? 

You smiled at him. “You look great.” He thanked you and you excused yourself to serve for the other tables. 

It was a normal work night except it is much more taxing now because of the incessant requests of other couples. Really, why can’t they just do a date at home? It’s more romantic. While serving salad to a couple, your eyes drifted to Yuta who is still pretty much alone on his table. Did he come too early? It’s been almost fifteen minutes. He looked so nervous that he kept playing on the napkin on the table that you found adorable. 

When your eyes met, you just gave him an encouraging smile. “Are you alright? You’re sweating. Do you want to change tables?” You asked but he shook his head, claiming that he’s just nervous. “I’ll get you some water.” He quietly thanked you. 

“He’s cute,” Jungwoo claimed as you put water in a tall glass. You rolled your eyes at him, saying that he’s on a date. “Bummer.” And you chuckled. 

He smiled when you handed him the water then went to other tables to serve them. It’s been an hour since the guy came but he’s still alone. He had almost five refills of water and you watch as he grew fidgety within each second. “Do you think the date is still coming?” Jungwoo asked. Some couples were giving him a pitying look, especially those who came before him. You glanced at Jungwoo before your feet dragged you to where he is. 

“Hi.” You greeted. “Do you want to eat first? I mean, we have appetizers. It’s not that heavy.” 

He nodded. “I’m sorry. Of course, I have to order first.” You handed him the menu and he took time to scan it. “I don’t think she’s coming so I’ll order alone. Can you recommend something?” God, he’s so pitiful. For a handsome guy, he doesn’t deserve any of this on Valentine’s Day. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

“Sorry.” You mumbled then bit your lip. You overheard a couple nearby talk about how he was stood up for his date on Valentine’s and you felt worse for him. “Well, Risotto is our best selling dish and it’s good for two…” You stopped, you were trained to say those words.

You cannot take this anymore. You can’t bear making him feel bad about himself. You wrote something on your notepad then handed it to him. “Can you give me a minute? I’m going to transfer you to Jungwoo.” 

Your co-worker was surprised at your sudden decision but you were already removing your apron. “Just give me half an hour. I’ll help clean the kitchen.” He was just chuckling, shaking his head. 

Yuta looked at the note then at you, smiling when you sat in front of him that earned glances from other customers. You did inform him that you’ll pretend to be his date. “Sorry, I forgot that your mom told me that you’re coming here.” You heard words like ‘She’s his date?’ ‘He waited an hour for her?’. At least, the comments are now directed to you and not him. Jungwoo gave you a knowing look when he ordered the risotto and some wine. 

It was awkward at first. You don’t know anything about him. Like a blind date. A real blind date. When he started sorting the celery from the pasta, you giggled at how picky he is. When dessert came, the choco lave cake that you always wanted to try, you were both laughing at random cat pictures in his phone. It’s almost closing when you finished the small serving of cake. 

The customers had lessened now, probably on their way for the second batch of their date at home. Jungwoo was just eyeing you, gesturing his watch and you nodded at him. "Well, I had a good time Yuta. But I promised Jungwoo that this will only take half an hour. It's…" Your eyes widened in surprise, it's past an hour already? "Wow." 

Yuta chuckled. "I also had a great time, Y/N. Thank you for saving me back there." You shook your head, smiling at him. "Sorry for taking your time like this." 

Again, you shook your head. "It's fine. I don't have anything to do." He stood up and you both walked to the counter where the cashier is looking at you, smiling. "Unnie, just take out what I ordered…" 

"No. No, it's fine." Yuta claimed, handing his card to the cashier. "I'll pay for dinner. I owe it to you, Y/N." You only smiled. He's so charming. "Bye, Y/N." And as he went out the door, you sighed at the thought that you're not gonna see him again. 

Your co-workers kept on teasing you when you stayed to help clean the kitchen for the night but you just shrugged them off. And since you all worked until late tonight, the manager gave you a day-off for tomorrow that made you ecstatic. It's almost 12 when you finished your work and went out with Jungwoo to head home. "Oh my God!" He exclaimed that made you stop as well. 

Yuta was in front of the restaurant. "Hi," He greeted, then handed you the bouquet of pink and red flowers he was holding. "I…" he started which made you raise an eyebrow at him. Did he wait for you? He glanced at his watch, "It's still not too late to greet you a Happy Valentine's Day…" Then he shook his head. "I mean, night." 

"Well, it's late and it's dangerous for a girl like you to walk alone." Jungwoo then held your shoulder. "So I'm going to leave you two." Wait, what? He said it’s dangerous. "And have a nice Valentine's." He hailed a cab, even saying to the driver that he should hurry up. 

Yuta laughed. "He's so cheerful." You nodded. He is. "Then, can I walk you home?" He laid out a hand that made you smile. Well, it is kind of chilly. 

You took his hand, threading your fingers on his. "What are you going to tell your mom?" You asked, genuinely curious. 

He smiled, pulling you closer. "That I had dinner with a pretty girl. Why?" You shook your head. "Wait, you don't have a boyfriend, right?" You shook your head, smiling. "Husband?" You giggled at him. "Valentine's is already over but can we still go on a date? A real date? Tomorrow?" 

"Of course." You said almost immediately that made him chuckle. "Besides, chocolates and flowers will be on sale tomorrow. We can swipe the whole store." He laughed at that, nodding. 

Who would have thought that you'll get a date on Valentine's Day? It isn’t so bad after all.  

[plaidbooks]

Feeling Cold

A/N: I just can’t stop writing Sonny Carisi, especially fluff. Because this man deserves fluff and happiness (okay, everyone on svu deserves that). Anyways, here’s some fluffy Sonny fluff.

To my non-American crowd, 5⁰F = -15⁰C

Tags: none (it’s implied they have sex at the end), alcohol mention (Bailey’s is an Irish cream liqueur)

Words: 2577

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @shroomiehomie @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @averyhotchner @redlipstickandplaid @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @reading--mermaid @dreamlover31

It was one of those days where Sonny had arraignments all morning, then no court the rest of the day. Normally, he loved that; it’s not that he hated trials or courts, but he felt like it was, well, a time sinkhole. He had so much paperwork and stuff to do, and sitting at a table, listening to the defense drone on and on, made him more anxious as he thought about the stacks of files in his office. When he was up in front of the judge and jury, it was fine; he was getting things done. Any moment not actively working felt like a waste, though.

But today, he was leaving the warmth of the courthouse to half-jog through snow and 5⁰ weather. He checked his watch as he entered One Hogan Place, seeing that it was his “normal” lunch time; he was planning to take a quick lunch break, then dive into work. Plus, his lunch break meant he got to call you.

You had the day off, so he called you while in the elevator, heading up to the eighth floor. “Hey, doll. I’m done with court and just heading up to take my lunch. How’s your day?” His voice was a little unsteady, his teeth chattering. He had his normal peacoat over his suit, but he had forgotten both his scarf and gloves, and he was freezing.

“Fine…. You sound cold, Sonny. Are you outside?” you asked.

He huffed. “Not anymore—I’m just getting to the eighth floor,” he explained. The elevator doors dinged open, and Sonny let out a hiss as a blast of cold air hit him.

“What happened?” you asked, hearing his exhale.

He let out a shiver. “It’s fucking cold in the office.” Hurrying to his door, he unlocked it with numb fingers, and it was even colder inside. “The heater must be broken.”

He noticed everyone on his floor bundled in various coats and blankets, some even with personal heaters. Sonny moved behind his desk, sitting in the chair and feeling another shiver move up his spine from the cold leather.

“Would coffee help?” you tried. You had just made a huge batch of soup—for lunch and dinner tonight—and you wished Sonny could have some.

“Y-yeah…good idea.” He stood and went to his coffee maker. “Aaaand, it’s broken. Holy shit.” He clenched his jaw, feeling tears in his eyes from frustration.

“Oh god; I’m sorry Sonny. Can you leave early? Bring paperwork home to work on?”

“No—I have a meeting in two hours, and I need to be here. I-it’s fine. I can deal with this.” He grimaced, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m gonna go—eat my lunch. I’ll talk to you tonight, doll. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Sonny. It’ll work out; I promise.” You hung up, thinking. Sonny sounded so upset, and you knew him—he got cold easily. The downfall of his lankiness. It was only a 10-minute drive to his office; you could easily make it before his meeting. Hell, he’d probably still be on lunch.

You ladled some soup into an insulated thermos, then pulled on Sonny’s coat—which was much too big on you. And then you pulled on a second of his coats. You stopped by the store on your way, buying literally the last space heater on the shelf, and ordering an extra-large coffee—with a tray.

You put the thermos on the tray, opposite the coffee. Tray in one hand and space heater in the other, you made your way to the eighth floor of One Hogan Place. It was freezing in the building, and you felt bad for the various workers you passed by, all bundled up.

You made it to Sonny’s office, putting the heater down to knock on his door. He called out to you, and you opened the door, stooping to grab the heater as you entered.

“D-doll?” Sonny asked, shivering. He took you in—the two coats, the tray and box. “Wh-what—?”

“I figured you needed this,” you said, smiling. He shook himself, standing and hurrying around his desk. You handed him the tray with coffee and soup, then placed the heater on the desk.

Sonny put the tray on his desk, still looking confused. “What i-i-is all this-s-s?”

“Drink some coffee—warm up. The thermos has minestrone soup,” you instructed. He didn’t need to be told twice, taking a deep gulp from the coffee cup. You shrugged off the top coat, laying it on the desk. Then, you shrugged off the second coat—the one that was insulated between your body heat and the top coat. Sonny stood stock still as you slipped his arm through one sleeve, then pulled the other one on.

“Better?” you asked, grinning at him. You pulled the other coat back on—it was cold in his office. Sonny nodded, just barely, and you turned to the desk, ripping the space heater box open.

Sonny was so stunned by your act of love; you were here to make him warm, to make him feel better. His mind was spinning—he was the one that did this for others. No one had taken care of him like this…except for his Ma when he was little. He didn’t quite know how to process it.

You finished “building” the space heater—you simply shoved the base on—then stood it by his chair and plugged it in.

“Is this a good spot?” you asked, turning to look at him. But Sonny hadn’t moved, his brow furrowed as he looked at you—no, he looked through you. “Sonny?”

He visibly shook himself. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

You gestured to the heater. “Sit in your chair as if you’re working and tell me if this is placed right.”

Sonny moved back behind his desk, pulling his coat closer around him, then sitting. “A little to the left?”

You moved the heater this way and that until Sonny announced it was perfect. Then he stood once more, coming over to you, and wrapping you in his arms. He kissed your cheek, his lips cold still.

“I love you so much. Thank you,” he muttered in your ear.

You smiled against his shoulder. “Of course, Son. I love you, too.” He held you for a long time, both of you warming from the contact. You kissed his cheek, your lips warm against his cold skin.

Eventually, you pulled back. “Text me when you’re coming home—I’ll have the heater on and a bath ready for you, okay?”

“Y-yeah, okay. Thank you again. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Freeze to death, apparently,” you teased, and he chuckled. “Now drink that coffee and that soup before they get cold. And don’t be too late tonight—it’s supposed to get colder and snow more.”

You moved to the door, and he croaked out another, “I love you.”

You paused and turned, giving him a soft smile. “I love you, too. See you tonight.”

 *********************

Sonny texted you that he was heading home. The soup was simmering, the heater was on, and you made hot chocolate. The bath, you’d wait until he was home, so that it’d be steaming hot. Still, you got a towel ready for him, and you grabbed his favorite sweats and his Fordham hoodie, throwing them in the dryer.

You heard Sonny’s footsteps in the hallway outside your shared apartment, and you went to grab a mug. The front door opened and shut as you poured some Baileys into the mug, then the hot chocolate.

“I’m home, doll,” Sonny announced, shrugging out of his two coats and suit jacket.

“In the kitchen,” you called back. You met him as he came in, handing him the hot chocolate. Sonny was shivering again, his nose and cheeks bright red.

He cupped the mug with both hands, groaning as the warmth seeped into his skin. “Th-thank you-u-u,” he breathed.

“Mhm—there’s Baileys in it, too,” you warned, and he took a grateful sip. You smiled as he made a happy sound, then took another sip. “I’ll get that bath ready, and then you can have some soup.”

You headed for the bathroom, then turned the water on. As soon as it was hot, you plugged the tub, letting it fill. Sonny joined you in the bathroom, and you swore you saw tears in his eyes.

“Are you okay, Sonny?” you asked, worried.

He nodded, blinking rapidly. “Fine; just something in my eye.”

You gave him a look before brushing it off. “Okay, well, bath’s almost full if you wanna strip.”

He placed the empty mug on the counter, then started pulling his clothes off. He was still trembling slightly, goosebumps on his skin even in the warm apartment, and you were worried he may get sick. Once undressed, you helped him into the bath. He groaned as he sunk down, letting himself slide until he was almost fully underwater. You smiled at him, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. Then, you took the empty mug, and went to refill it.

You brought a full mug back, and Sonny’s eyes were closed as he soaked. “This water feels amazing,” he moaned.

“I’m glad,” you replied, passing him the mug. “How was the rest of your day?”

“Soooo much better with that space heater. Thank you so much for that—I can’t believe you found one.”

“It was the last one on the shelf. But if they were out, then I would’ve just dropped off the coffee, soup, and coat, then gone out to find one for you.”

Sonny blinked, staring at you. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, I would—you’d do it for me,” you replied, chuckling in disbelief that he asked.

“Y-yeah…I would…” he trailed off, sipping his hot chocolate.

You smiled at him. “Then why is it so shocking?”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I just…never mind.” You gave him a stern look and he sighed. “I’m just…I should be used to this by now.”

“Used to what?”

“Someone taking care of me…someone who cares….”

You softened at his words. You had been dating for a few years now, having just moved in 7 months ago. And while it’s true that Sonny went above and beyond in the relationship, you tried your best to do the same for him. The only issue was that Sonny usually brushed off your attempts, not maliciously—he just wasn’t used to it, like he said. You’d try and cook dinner after a long day, and he’d take over once home. You’d plan to have his suits dry cleaned, and he’d snag them on his way to work, picking them up on his way home. Sonny didn’t like people waiting on him; he felt like it was a bother to have someone do something he could easily do himself. Your only time to “take care of him” was while he was at work, or holding him after a long day.

“Listen to me, Sonny; a relationship shouldn’t be one person doing everything for the other. There has to be a balance. So, let me take care of you. Let me do things for you, even though you can do it yourself. I want to do things for you, okay?”

Sonny turned to look deeply into your eyes. He scanned your face for a long time before he eventually nodded, a small smile on his face. “Yeah…okay. I can do—I can try and do that.”

“That’s all I ask,” you replied. You stood, turning to leave the bathroom.

“I’ll be out in a moment—the waters getting cold,” Sonny said.

You turned back, smiling. “Okay. I’ll get your clothes ready.

He raised an eyebrow at you as you left, heading for the dryer. You pulled out his hoodie and sweats—both steaming hot. By the time you came back to the bathroom, Sonny was out of the tub, drying off. You passed him the clothes, and he smiled softly as he felt the warmth in the fabric.

As he got dressed, you went back to the kitchen, stirring the soup. Long arms wrapped around you from behind, and Sonny’s chin went to your shoulder.

You chuckled. “Feeling warmer?”

“I always feel warmer around you.”

“Awww, that’s cute. But I’m serious,” you said, turning in his arms.

He grinned at you. “Yes, I’m warm now. Thank you, doll.” He leaned down and kissed you tenderly, putting all his love and affection into it.

“Good,” you whispered against his lips. “Ready for dinner?”

Sonny gave you another kiss before pulling away, heading for the cabinet with bowls. “Starving.”

 *******************

Sonny caught you up with his day during dinner, then asked you for yours. Your day was a lot more boring, so there wasn’t much to comment on. Even so, Sonny hung on every word, as if you had traveled the world in 80 days rather than make and simmer a soup, and do some small jobs around the apartment.

Once done eating, you cleared the bowls, rinsing them out and putting them in the dish washer. Then, you went back to Sonny on the couch, throwing a blanket over him, and cuddling next to him. He chuckled, moving the blanket so that it was covering you both, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest.

“I love you so damn much,” he murmured against your head, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You chuckled. “I love you, too.”

You both sat there a moment longer, watching whatever Sonny put on TV. You could hear him humming—something he did when he was thinking hard. You were just about to ask him what he was thinking about when he whispered, barely audible, “marry me.”

You let out a surprised huff of laughter. “I think you’ve had too much Baileys.”

“I’m serious. Marry me.”

You turned to look at him, finding his eyes on you. “You’re serious?”

Sonny rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. You sat up as he got off the couch and disappeared down the hallway to your room. There was some shuffling, and your heart started beating faster. He came back soon enough, a small ring box in his hand.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” he announced, dropping to one knee in front of you.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you gasped, your hand coming to your mouth. “Oh my god! Of course, I’ll marry you!” you tearfully said, hands shaking.

Seeing you cry made Sonny start crying. He sniffled loudly, blinking his eyes rapidly as he took the ring and slid it on your finger. He got up, and you pulled him right back down into your lap, holding him close and kissing him.

“Well, I guess now I have to get used to you taking care of me,” he muttered, and you laughed.

“Yeah, you do. I want to take care of you, love. You spend so much of yourself, taking care of everyone. Let me return it.”

Sonny nodded. “I will. I promise. But right now, I want to return the favor. You warmed me up, and I have an idea of how to warm you up.” He leaned in to kiss you deeply, and you gripped his hair, tugging gently. He groaned into your mouth before urging you to stand, dragging you to bed.

[zimms]

an olliewicks flower shop au to soothe the soul! this is somewhat based on mine and @tingo-tango’s tags on this post. 

fields of flowers, soft beneath my heels

Ollie’s wrist-deep in a pot of soil, sweat rolling down his cheeks and sunlight streaming through the windows of Faber’s Flowers, when the shop’s bell rings and a new customer stumbles through the door. Ollie frowns slightly and hastily wipes the beads of sweat off his chin with the corner of his shirt, before plastering on his best customer service smile to greet whoever needs flowers at 7:30 am on a Tuesday morning. He mentally catalogues the possibilities; maybe they’ve forgotten their spouse’s birthday? Or maybe it’s a gift for someone at work? Maybe it’s an apology present because they accidentally cycled into a fruit stall and ruined a fresh batch of melons? 

(Okay, maybe not, but it would be a refreshing change in the cycle of constant businessmen grovelling for their partner’s forgiveness)

Ollie shakes himself from his thoughts and grins across the counter at the customer, who’s sporting a baseball cap and a t-shirt that sits just right across his broad shoulders. Ollie’s eyes track down the guy’s biceps which are a tad too big for the sleeves. Ollie consciously shut his mouth to stop himself from gaping; this guy was hot. As Ollie’s gaze roams across the customer’s face to meet his eyes, he realises three things. Number one is that he definitely shouldn’t be ogling a customer like he’s a piece of meat. Number two is that he hasn’t said anything to this guy yet. Number three is that at least a minute of awkward silence and staring has passed since the customer entered the shop. 

Ollie rips his eyes away from the customer’s face to stare at a spot slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hi! What can I help you with today?”

The guy shifts on the balls of his feet, scanning the shelves of bouquets and individual flowers. “Erm, I’m looking for a bouquet of flowers for my mom?” His voice raises at the end of his sentence, which is kind of cute, if Ollie does say so. He rubs the back of his neck and his checks flush pink. “I kinda need to apologise to her.”

Ah, a classic apology scenario. Got it. 

“What’s the apology for?” Ollie asks as he turns to the sink behind the counter to wash his hands. “Not that you have to tell me that is; it just might help as we make the bouquet.” He unravels the roll of tissue paper and cuts off a square to package the flowers in. 

Hot Guy winces. “Ah,” he says, “I kinda got into a fight in front of her the other night. She was not happy to say the least, so I figured I might as well get her some flowers to apologise for it.” 

“Cool, cool.” Ollie grins at him. “What kinda flowers do you want for her?” He gestured to the whole shop, where various buckets of flowers lined the walls, each displaying a different species. “We can get her just a plain old bunch that’s all just the same type of flower, or we could mix and match, create a nice piece of artwork that she’ll admire rather than a bunch that’s boring and all the same.”

Hot Guy’s eyes flick up from the counter and meet Ollie’s own, moving slowly up his body. If Ollie was feeling particularly optimistic, he’d say the guy was checking him out, but he pushes that thought to the corner of his mind because he’s made way too many faux-pas in the past by asking out guys that have come into the shop just for all of them to be straight. Hot Guy clears his throat. “Yeah, a mixture sounds good. I know her favourite flowers are hyacinths if that helps?”

“That’s perfect.” Ollie shoots him the most reassuring smile he can think of, eyes softening. He grabs the bucket of blue hyacinths that sit behind him. “These alright?” 

“Yeah, those are great,” Hot Guy says a little hoarsely, squinting at Ollie’s name tag, “Ollie.” Something settles in Hot Guy’s voice and he seems a bit more comfortable. 

“So, why'd you get into a fight in front of your mom?” Ollie reaches for the bucket of Narcissus behind him and waves a bunch at Hot Guy for affirmation. He nods in return. “Doesn’t seem like the best idea to me-” Ollie trails off, hoping that Hot Guy might get the hint and finally introduce himself. 

“Oh, uh, Pacer.” He coughs and the remaining tension leaks out of his posture. “Nah, a guy said something about Ma, and you know, I had to rush to defend her like the rash idiot I am.” 

Ollie laughs. “At least, it’s one of the more noble reasons to get into a fight. There’s a bit more chance of forgiveness, then.”

Pacer nods and his gaze wanders away from where Ollie is deftly making the bouquet to settle on the purple Clematis. 

“You like them?” Ollie makes a ‘gimme’ motion with his hands and Pacer passes the bucket over to him. Their hands briefly brush each other during the exchange and Ollie does everything in his power to ignore the jolt that goes through him at that brief skin to skin contact. “You’ve got a good eye; I was just about to grab them myself.”

“Yeah, my mom loves blue and yello-” Pacer cuts himself off with a sneeze. “Also, aren’t they the colours of the local hockey team around here? The Falcons?” Although he has a completely clueless tone to his voice, Pacer is studying Ollie’s reaction as if it might reveal the secrets of the universe. 

“Yeah, the Falcs! I only get to see them every so often, but they’re great,” Ollie says, doing his level best to ignore Pacer’s sudden intensity. “I was actually on the same team as Jack Zimmermann in college, which was pretty cool.”

“Really?” Pacer’s enigmatic expression becomes even more indecipherable. “That is pretty cool.” He looks slightly over his shoulder towards the street before meeting Ollie’s eyes and flashing a genuine smile at him. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself, you know.”

Ollie tries to convince himself that the bubble of excitement that rushes through him is because Pacer is such a good conversationalist and not for any other reason, like the fact that they have a couple of things in common, or that Pacer is one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen. 

(He fails.)

_X_

Pacer leaves about forty minutes later, with a bouquet and handwritten note in hand and a smile fixed firmly on his face. When Ollie goes to scrub down the counter and start repotting the plant he’d abandoned when Pacer had arrived, he spots a scrap of paper that definitely hadn’t been there before. The note is pretty cute; it’s a string of numbers and a smiley face, accompanied by a couple of lines from Pacer.

Would you like to go I would have asked you out earlier, but my tea friend always says it’s bad form to hit on workers whilst they’re on shift. Anyway, here’s my number if you want to go out some time? Call m Don’t worry if you don’t though!

- Pacer 

Ollie grins as he opens up his phone to add the number to his contacts, but pauses as he sees a Google Alert come through that he’s set up for the Falcs. The text reads, Providence Falconers acquire forward Pacer Wicks from Colorado Avalanche in exchange for a second round pick in the 2022 NHL Draft, and immediately underneath the caption, Pacer’s smiling face stares out at him. 

Pacer’s voice echoes in his mind. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.”

Played a bit of hockey himself? Ollie cannot believe this guy. He plays in the fucking NHL and all he says is “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.” 

However, Ollie thinks as he opens up the article to see a picture of a bruised Pacer from his last game with the Avs, it would explain why he needed to apologise for fighting in front of his mom. 

_X_

Now that Ollie is aware of Pacer Wicks’ existence, he seems to follow him everywhere. Well, not Pacer exactly, but his name. 

It begins, like many things, at the grocery store. 

“Excuse me?” the cashier asks, as she’s scanning his groceries two days after Pacer first came into the florist’s. “Are you that hockey player? Pacer Wicks?” 

Ollie furrows his eyebrows. He doesn’t think that him and Pacer look that similar, but then again, Pacer’s only been in Providence a couple of days, so people don’t exactly know what he looks like yet. “No, sorry.”

The cashier purses her lips, taking a moment to study him again before ringing him up. “Huh, sorry! You guys just look really alike is all.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Ollie gathers up his groceries. “These things happen sometimes.”

(He almost texts Pacer to tell him about it, but, as Ollie looks at the clock on his phone, he realises that Pacer probably isn’t going to want to receive a message about how someone thought they looked similar mid-way through his game against the Pens.

Also, he’d have to wish him luck and honestly, as much as Ollie loves the Falcs, he wouldn’t wish them too much luck against his hometown team.)

_X_

ollie

hey! i’ve finished off that other apology bouquet for your ma!

let me know when you want to swing by and pick it up!

also i was watching the game tonight; do you need me to make up another identical one for your ma, or do you wanna come into the shop to choose this one?

pacer

thanks ol! i’ll probably swing by to pick it up tomorrow and then help make the next one at the same time?

ollie

sounds like a plan!!

_X_

When he said these things happen sometimes to that cashier in the grocery store, he didn’t expect them to happen all the goddamn time. Be it at his favourite café, on the street, or on the commuter rail, someone always, always, asks if he’s Pacer Wicks. 

_X_

ollie

oof that hit from eriksen looks like it’s gonna leave a mark

pacer

yeah, half my face is swollen

ollie

yikes

pacer

i assume we’re still on for dinner in a couple of days right?

even if my stunning visage has been marred by the fists of a schooner

ollie

that was a very weird way of putting it

but yeah, i still wanna go out with you even if your face looks like a dodgeball

_X_

A girl taps him on the shoulder at Bitty’s Bites downtown. “Excuse me, are you Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie smiles sheepishly at her, brandishing his coffee cup with a scrawled Oily on it as if it might keep the Pacer Wicks fans away. “Sorry, you’ve got the wrong dude.”

He hurries out of there as quickly as his legs can take him after that, hands fumbling for his phone so that he can text Pacer about it.

ollie

jdshjkdsjh a girl just asked if i was you

pacer

oh?

ollie

yeah, i don’t really know why so many people ask if i’m you

especially as they usually ask when you’re on a roadie??

so i don’t get why they know who you are without knowing the falcs’ schedules

pacer

maybe they’re a fan of my dashing good looks rather than my hockey?

isn’t that why you agreed to go out with me after all?

Ollie grins to himself before sending back three words.

don’t push it

_X_

He’s less generous to the guy on the commuter rail, but in fairness that’s mainly because he stole the last seat just before Ollie could get there and it’s 6:30 in the morning. 

“Hey, aren’t you that hockey pl-?”

Ollie barely looks up from his phone before cutting him off with a sharp “No.”

_X_

Today, someone even asks him at the flower shop.

“No,” he says, heaving the deepest sigh he can whilst still remaining in customer service mode, “I think Pacer Wicks might have other things to do on a Saturday afternoon than work the till at a flower shop.” He shuts the cash drawer on the register with a bang and hands the customer their change and bouquet as quickly as he can. “Thank you for shopping with us! Enjoy your day!” 

He collapses back onto the wooden stool that he keeps behind the counter, taking a breather for approximately five seconds before a laugh echoes through the shop. Ollie jumps half a foot in the air before locating Pacer, who’s stood in the corner of the shop inspecting a piece of sea holly. 

He’s dressed up pretty nicely considering hockey players’ notoriously bad fashion sense, wearing a button-up, a nice pair of jeans that do all the right things for his hockey butt, and his ever-present baseball cap, but this time, unlike his first visit to the shop, it’s sat backwards on his head. He spins around to face the back of the shop, grinning his face off. “I’m impressed by the fact that she asked you that whilst I was standing in the shop and she still didn’t notice me.” He laughs, smirking across at Ollie. “Does that happen often?”

“Yeah, some people are surprisingly oblivious sometimes,” he says, “but also, I don’t look that much like you?” He pauses, trying to work out what Pacer’s face means. He places his hands on his hips and jokingly rounds on Pacer. “Do I?” 

Pacer chuckles, taking a few steps closer so that he’s leaning against the counter. “Not that much, but would it be so bad if you looked like me?” A mock-wounded expression plays across his features as he presses his hand to his chest. 

Ollie takes off his apron and hangs it up behind the counter. “Nope, because you are extremely hot.” He threads his fingers through the hockey player’s belt loops to pull him closer, feeling emboldened by Pacer’s flirting. “And if that means that people are inadvertently calling me hot whilst asking if I’m you?” He shrugs. “I can live with it.”

Pacer has to lower his gaze to meet Ollie’s eyes, the two inch height difference between them clearly obvious, even if Ollie is six foot, thank you very much. “You were right about something though,” Pacer murmurs, “I do have better things to do than stand in a flower shop on a Saturday afternoon.”

“Like what?” Ollie raises an eyebrow.

Pacer smiles softly down at him, taking his hand and interlacing his fingers with Ollie’s. “Like taking the cute florist that works there on a date for starters.” Pacer starts to move them towards the shop’s entrance. “There’s this lit-” He sneezes abruptly.

Ollie tilts Pacer’s head downwards. “That’s like the fourth time you’ve sneezed in the shop.” He rubs his thumb over his cheek, frowning when he sees that Pacer’s eyes are slightly red. “Are you okay?”

Pacer waves him off. “Yeah, it’s fine; my antihistamines just wore off.”

His-? Ollie furrows his eyebrows before leading his date out of the shop. “Pacer, are you allergic to flowers?” 

“No?” Pacer’s sheepish and slightly bunged up reply says everything that Ollie needs to know.

“Fuck, Pace, why have you been coming to the shop so much if you’re allergic? Surely you don’t like the aesthetics of flowers that much that you need to torture your sinuses every spare minute of the day.” Ollie pinches the bridge of his nose, voice full of exasperation.

Pacer holds his hands up in surrender. “In my defence, the first few times were because I did need to buy Ma flowers, but I didn’t keep coming back because the flowers were pretty.” He pulls Ollie close and frames his face with his hands. “I came back because the florist was.”

_X_

The final time Ollie is mistaken for Pacer is five years later as he’s heading towards the arena for Pacer’s final game of the season. In fairness, dressed in a Wicks jersey and a Falcs snapback, he probably looks more like Pacer now than he has at any time since he first got mistaken for him in the grocery store. 

“Excuse me?” A teenager taps him on the shoulder, their arm slung around a friend. “Are you Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie grins at the kid. “Nope,” he says, trying not to take too much joy in the hope fading from the fan’s eyes before he drops the bombshell, “I am his husband though.”

“Really?” The teenager’s eyes light up. “You’re not kidding, right?”

“Nope.” Ollie holds up his phone screen to show the kid a photo of Pacer kissing his cheek, just so that they know he’s not lying. “D’you wanna meet him after the game?” He smirks at them. “After all, I do know a guy.”

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’: Separation

Word count: 1.6K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Mentions of multiple deaths, feels, fluff

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: This timestamp takes place before the first chapter of the series. I wrote it for myself, because it’s a snapshot of their lives that demanded to be fleshed out. 

The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014.

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

29th August 2014

Sam simply had to look away. He couldn’t bear to see the pictures Stacey had put in front of him.

“Why’re we doing a homicide, again?” Chase asked, face screwed up. He didn’t want to see the horrifying images either.

Stacey pursed her lips. “Sam had told me he’d like to be informed if something similar to… you know... if something like this ever pops up.”

Sam had told her that. She was only doing what she’d been asked.

“So, what’s the deal?” Sam motioned with a tilt of his head towards the photos on his desk.

“Victor Parker, 37 and Alicia Parker, 32, were found murdered at their San Jose home yesterday. They are survived by a 5 year old boy John.”

“What happened?” Chase’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Burglary gone wrong, or so the cops are saying. The resemblance of the crime scene was all too uncanny. I had to tell you.”

Stacey wasn’t wrong. The way the bodies were splayed- just like Simmons.

“Where’s the boy?” Sam’s fingers scratched against the etching on his pen. A nervous tick he had developed over the years when he started feeling the panic.

“In the hospital, fighting for his life. The assholes shot everyone. Little John got it twice. The surgeons removed the bullets, but there’s been a lot of internal bleeding.”

Sam flinched, closing his eyes.

Chase got up from the chair. “What’re we going to do about this? We’re lawyers not law enforcement or miracle workers.” He turned to the girl before him. “Stace, darling, c’mon. There’s nothing we can do for the poor boy. We work private law jobs and this is the DA’s territory.”

Stacey pushed her hair behind her ear, distressed. “Sam, you okay?”

“Sam?”

“Hmm?” He looked up, fingers sweaty against the obsidian in his hand.

She looked like something had just occurred to her. “Wait… Wasn’t your dad’s name John? Oh, Sam, I’m so sorry if I brought something up.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m okay. It’s not that.”

It wasn’t. His parent’s death had been a grave tragedy, but it affected Dean a hell lot more than it had ever affected Sam. He had always been sheltered, protected and loved by a brother who was his entire family. 

Sam let out a long breath. “Call the PD and check with them which hospital they’ve put John in, will you?”

“On it!” 

He watched Stacey hurry out of his office.

Chase gave him an apprehensive glance then walked out of the cabin, too. He wasn’t wrong about what he’d said earlier. There was nothing Sam could do. Max’s case was a one off. Ralph Simmons had been a client to Johnson’s before, so Max was by default on the firm’s radar. These murders were only a news report. Even though Sam couldn’t be legal help, he could always be monetary help. It’s why he’d asked Stacey to keep a look out. If there was anything Sam could do for little John, he would.

The glass door opened, and his secretary stepped in.

“Stace?” 

Her lower lip quivered before she put her face in her hands. “Just heard from the Hospital. He passed, Sam. That little boy didn’t make it.” 

******

“Mr. Winchester, can I offer you something? A glass of water, perhaps?” The principal asked him, casting a side eye at the other teacher.

“No, thank you,” Sam whispered. “I just want to see my son.”

“I have to tell you, this is very irregular. We usually don’t pull out kids from their classes. Is something wrong?”

He closed his eyes and said the words with deliberation. “Nothing is wrong. I’d just like to take my son home early. Will that be a problem?”

The principal gestured to the teacher, who Sam now realised was Max’s class in-charge. She shrugged. “Sure. There’s just an hour of school left for the year. You can take him home.”

When Max shuffled into view outside, through the office’s blinders, he looked small and confused, brown eyes flitting nervously. It was all Sam could do not to fall on his knees and hug him to his chest. 

Max’s eyes went round with worry as he read Sam’s. Kid just always knew.

With shaking legs, Sam made his way out and clutched Max’s shoulder. He would have picked his boy up, but the fear of collapsing kept him from doing that. 

“Come,” he said quietly, placing a hand against Max’s back.

Max followed without a question, climbing in the passenger’s seat.

Sam drove the rest of the way doing his best not to break down. His eyes kept tearing up and he rolled them up each time to stop the threatening tears from spilling.

Once home, he discarded his coat and sat Max down on the sofa. The packed suitcase, along with Max’s backpack stood right next to it. 

“Stay here, let me fix you something to eat, okay?” 

Sam’s kitchen was open, he could see Max from where he was standing in front of the stove. The eggs broke unevenly and the whisk shook in his hands. Next time that Sam’s eyes flitted to the sofa, it was empty.

“Max? Max!” He yelled.

“Right here!” Max was sitting on the kitchen island right behind, feet tucked under him.

“I told you to stay right there on the sofa!”

Max dropped his shoulders. “You’re spooking me out, you know?”

Sam was taken aback.

“Look,” Max sighed. “If you don’t want me to go, I won’t go, okay? It’s not that big a deal.”

Closing his eyes, Sam leaned back against the counter next to Max. “It’s not that. I… Well, I had a rough day at work.”

“What happened?”

He wasn’t sure how to put it to Max, but he sure as hell couldn’t lie to him.

“You don’t want to tell me,” Max huffed. 

“Something very sad happened today,” Sam breathed. “And I just… I couldn’t take it-” his voice broke. “I couldn’t breathe another minute without seeing you, knowing you were okay.”

Max was silent for a moment, then he spoke through pressed lips. “You look funny. Bad funny. You wanna sit down?”

Sam gulped once and pulled himself on top of the counter next to Max. 

His house wasn’t big, but it sure felt cavernous when Max went over to Jody’s for the night sometimes. One whole month. How was he supposed to live?

“Your hands are shaking,” Max said in his sweet, ringing voice. “Sam, you’re scaring me.”

First rule of parenting, don’t let your kid see you fall apart, Dean’s words came back to Sam.

He ran his hand over his face- it must’ve been white- not knowing what to say to Max.

“I’m not going to the camp,” Max announced.

“No. You should go. Your aunt Jo would butcher me with one of her fancy knives if you don’t show up now. I’ll be fine.”

The boy next to him didn’t look convinced. Max saw right through him with those sharp eyes. “You’re bluffing. And I thought you were the best lawyer in the world.”

“All kids think their parents are infallible.”

Max snorted. Sam turned to look at him.

“You’re infallible, alright, but you’re also stupid!”

“What?”

Little brown fingers grabbed Sam’s hand, stealing eyes. “It’s just a camp.”

“But you want to go, right?”

Max didn’t say anything. Sam knew he’d been dying to go to that mechanics camp his uncle Dean had suggested. It would mean cars, tools and dinners with his aunt and uncle on the weekends. Dean and Jo were looking forward to this, too. They had their own kid on the way and Jo loved Max. Much like Sam, it was second nature to her to keep looking at the roads and door and be disappointed each time when the person she was hoping to see never showed. Sam couldn’t disappoint her.

“I’ve never been away from you for more than a day since you moved in with me. I wouldn’t know what to do with my days.” Or life for that matter.

Max smirked. “Uncle Chase keeps asking you to have fun. So have fun.”

Chase’s definition of fun was very different from Max’s. Sam wasn’t interested.

“You call me everyday, you hear me?” Sam said through a thick throat. “You miss a day and I’ll haul your ass back all the way from Kansas. I won’t care if the camp counsellor says no. I can throw hands.”

Max gave him a very slow once over then snickered. “No one’s dumb enough to fight you.”

Sam couldn’t stop himself. He threw his hands around the little boy, engulfing him completely. “I’m going to miss you so damn much, son.”

“Can’t. Breathe.” Came the muffled words. Sam eased the grip.

“I’ll miss you, too, Dadda.”

Thirty-one days. Sam could do it. Monday was the orientation lecture for the new class of Stanford Law. A fresh batch. Sam was supposed to teach Civil Procedure. That would keep him plenty busy. Submissions, hypos, presentations. He could take over extra cases at work, make more trips to LA to check on the boys home. The month would be in and out and before he knew it, his kid, the light of his days, would be back to bouncing on his couch and reading on the kitchen counter.

Max yawned against Sam’s stomach.

Yeah he could survive. After all, what could possibly happen in thirty-one days.

********

[prettywordsyouleft]

MonX Hospital | Changkyun

Pairing: Im Changkyun x reader

Genre: lab technician – hospital au / romance / strangers to lovers

Warnings: medical terms, and the word “blood” is used a lot, considering Changkyun’s profession, illness.

Word count: 4417

Index: Shownu | Wonho | Minhyuk | Kihyun | Hyungwon | Jooheon | Changkyun

Turning around to the next tray of samples to check, Changkyun stopped for a moment after reading the name on the adjoining paperwork. Working at MonX Hospital as a Laboratory Technician meant he could process samples from the same patients at least twice within his working week. It shouldn’t stand out as anything important to him, yet when he saw your name for the eighth time in the past two weeks, Changkyun found himself a little stunned. There were several other technicians in this department who could have processed your blood work but it seemed to always end up in his batches.

“Everything alright?” his co-worker Bora questioned and Changkyun snapped out of his thoughts, however, his brows remained furrowed.

“Yeah, I’m just getting familiar with this patient’s blood samples.”

Bora grinned. “That sometimes happens. I like to think of it as a sense of fate for a technician to see the same person’s samples during their stay. It’s a pleasure to watch as things improve for the patient through their continued testing.”

As Changkyun waited for the results from the automatic analyser to be transferred to the computer he was monitoring, he didn’t hold the same optimism as Bora did. He had been steadily watching the decline in your numbers over the past two weeks. And when the results appeared, his shoulders dropped.

“There’s an abnormality in these results,” he murmured, and Bora swivelled her chair around so she could see the screen. As a technologist, she was more experienced in looking at results such as these. Still, Changkyun could tell the levels to your iron and blood oxygen count were low.

You would no doubt need a transfusion today.

“Just remember that doing these tests are what will help this patient get the right treatment for a quick recovery.”

Changkyun nodded softly. However, your results bothered him for the rest of the morning and he even spent some time staring at a sample under the microscope just to find exactly where the abnormality was. He was invested for some reason and hoped he could find a way to see your numbers improving each second day instead of dropping.

Resigned, he stepped out for a coffee break in the hospital’s public cafeteria, watching as a patient rested her head against a windowpane. She looked far too pale to be away from her room, though she smiled when the sun danced over her skin.

He couldn’t help himself and sat at the table next to her. “Are you here for the sun?”

“After being locked up in this place for two weeks, I’ve finally found a spot where I can get direct sunlight. It’s too nice a weather lately to be cooped up inside so this is my happy medium.”

“I hate to break it to you but you know you can’t absorb vitamin D through a windowpane, right?”

The patient looked at him with a heavy pout which made him regret speaking the fact out loud. “Really? Is it only if I go outside? I’m not allowed out though…”

“Sorry,” he said apologetically. “I once was stuck inside recovering from a really bad virus and used to sit by the window every day until my father, who is a scientist, told me otherwise.”

Peering at his badge, she nodded. “I guess it’s now a bit of a like father like son moment then. He broke your heart and now you’re breaking mine, Im Changkyun.”

Changkyun cringed and waved a hand in dismissal. “I really didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine, I’m teasing you. Are you a doctor?”

“No, I work in the lab.”

“Doing what?”

“Running tests on the samples we receive.”

“Like blood tests?” she asked and Changkyun nodded. She then smiled warmly. “Maybe you’ll have come across mine.”

“Maybe.”

“If you can figure out what’s wrong with me, I’d ask you out on a date, you know.”

Changkyun, having taken a sip from the coffee mug, spluttered it everywhere. “Wh-what?!”

“I’m kidding, of course,” she remarked, looking back outside. “The doctors keep saying that monitoring my blood samples will find the answer to why I’m so sick but all that keeps happening is-”

“Y/N!” a voice called out and Changkyun let go of the mug he was holding, gaping at the patient now being fussed over by a distraught relative, the wheelchair she was sitting in now being wheeled away.

Your wheelchair.

It was you, the person he had been staring at under a microscope all morning long. Well, your blood sample at least. He couldn’t believe that the mystery in the lab had appeared in front of him right now. It was his first time meeting a patient in the flesh like this.

“Wait!” he called out fruitlessly and you turned back, shifting around to grin at him.

“I hope you can find what’s wrong with me, Mr Technician! If you do, I’ll go on a date with you!”

Glancing down at the coffee starting to run off the side of the table and then at your departure, he groaned, reaching out for a stack of napkins to clean up his mess.

Changkyun was hopeful this wouldn’t be the last time he saw you outside of the laboratory.

His daily trips for the rest of the week to the cafeteria didn’t bring you back into his presence. Your samples hadn’t been as regular as before and when you did turn up in his batches on Thursday, he smiled when he saw he had predicted right. Your iron and blood levels had rapidly increased, indicating you had received transfusions of both. You would no doubt be feeling a bit better after receiving the treatment, though he couldn’t be sure since you hadn’t returned to the cafeteria since that day. Had his pointing out about the sun having no effect stopped you? Or was it the relative who acted as if you were too fragile to be around others that had prohibited your return?

It was strange. He had never found himself so interested in another human before like this. You weren’t someone who matched his typical type in women, but Changkyun couldn’t deny you captivated him either.

Was it the added bonus that he had seen what your cells looked like up close? Shuddering with the rather creepy thought, Changkyun tried to forget about you. He knew he couldn’t, though. He was too invested in helping find a reason for your illness, as a professional of course.

“It’s not because of the date offer,” he mumbled to himself, ears growing hot despite his outspoken stance.

Though, he wondered if you actually had meant it since you mentioned it twice.

Another two weeks went by and by that time, your samples were almost back to how they had been before the transfusions. The doctors hadn’t figured out anything, he concluded. And every time he ran the automated analyser or looked at a sample on a slide, Changkyun couldn’t figure what was causing your cells to be abnormal. Even after talking with a pathologist for better understanding, there was little to go on aside from having a type of anaemia. But even the more experienced people couldn’t decide on which type it was.

You were a mystery to everyone.

And strangely, he missed you.

“I know you’ve worked extra today, but reckon you could go pick up some samples for me? Dora fell down a set of stairs an hour ago and is in orthopaedics so can’t collect the samples from wards fifteen and sixteen that we need to test tonight.”

Changkyun nodded at Bora. “I can do that.”

“Good, after you fetch them you can go home.”

“How kind of you to let me go like that,” he cheekily replied and Bora laughed.

“Well, I could make you stay on even longer and-”

“Ten hours is enough!” he chimed, diving to door to the department. “I’ll get the samples and then get out of here.”

“Less talk, more movement, Changkyun!”

He chuckled as he headed to the elevators in the lobby to take up to the floor needed. He thanked the nurse after retrieving the samples from ward sixteen, heading across the foyer to the opposite ward. Whistling softly as he walked to the nurse’s station, Changkyun glanced lazily around the ward, skidding to a stop when he noticed your name on the wall. Blinking rapidly, he went towards the door when a nurse caught his attention.

“Are you here to collect the samples?”

“Uh, yeah,” he distractedly answered, smiling weakly. Tearing his eyes reluctantly from your door, he followed the nurse to her station and waited for the package. Changkyun went to walk off, only retracing his steps back to the nurse. “Is room three allowed visitors?”

“Miss L/N?” she spoke and he nodded. “She has restricted access at the moment due to a family request.”

“Ah, that answers that then,” he murmured and then smiled back at the nurse. Thanking her, he then headed back down the hallway, his feet dragging outside your door. He craned his neck as if that would gain him better access to seeing you again. Your blinds were shut and only a small window in the door allowed him a brief look into your space. Sighing, he began to move again when he spotted you coming back into the wardroom.

You were walking this time, albeit with the help of an IV stand. You grinned. “Well if it isn’t Mr Technician.”

“Changkyun,” he corrected awkwardly and clamped his eyes shut. “I mean, please call me Changkyun.”

“Are we one a first name basis now?” you wondered with an animated smile. “I guess you already know mine. Sorry about the other week. My Aunt is a bit over the top. I’m all the family she has left so me being sick has sent her into a perpetual meltdown.”

“It’s fine, though I did wonder if you went in search of other places around the hospital for vitamin D.”

“Do you know, they’re supplementing it through this bad boy to me,” you mentioned, patting the IV machine. “Along with a multitude of other things.”

“Still no definite answer to what’s going on?” he asked and you gave him a wry smile.

“That would be too easy, now wouldn’t it? Every day they propose something else, and then take it back. I wonder how hard medical school must be if they can’t seem to collectively come up with an answer.”

“I don’t blame you for being frustrated.”

You shrugged and then pointed at him. “What about you? How’re my samples looking?”

“I’m struggling to figure out the abnormally. My whole team has looked at it and have suggested a few things but equally can’t come to a conclusion.”

You giggled. “I feel so exposed. Everyone gets a look at me under a microscope except me.”

“Maybe one day you could too,” Changkyun blurted out without much thought, scrunching his face up in realisation. “Uh, I mean not many people would-”

“Can I? Would I be allowed to?!” you wondered, stepping closer to him with a bright expression. You seemed hopeful and who was he to knock you down for that. Changkyun was nodding before he even realised it.

“Sure. I’ll make sure you can.”

You grinned, patting his arm as you passed him to go towards your room. “Sounds like it’s a date.”

It took a lot of convincing and doing the dirty jobs around the lab for an entire week before Bora agreed to let you look at your own blood sample. Bora gave Changkyun a pointed look. “You’re invested in this case, you know.”

“I know.”

“Did you seek the patient out first or-”

“We met by chance, I swear. I’m not going to go against professional conduct and privacy clauses. Further, if you hadn’t of sent me to go retrieve those samples-”

“Okay, blame me, it’s my fault!” she concluded with a shake of her head, a loose grin spreading out her lips. “You’re lucky I’m a hopeless romantic, Changkyun.”

“Wait, I wasn’t, I’m not…” Flustered with his supervisor’s reaction to his request, he fanned a hand at his face, trying to express that it wasn’t anything like that. Bora didn’t buy it and when Changkyun went to collect you for the scheduled visit, he felt hot under his collar.

Why was his good deed being taken as anything more than that?

However, when he reached your room, he stopped in the doorway, finding you out of your pyjamas and in a floral dress instead. You spun around, carefree.

“What are-- I mean… Woah.”

“Thank you,” you said with a broad smile. “I hoped you’d like it.”

“Why did you get dressed up?” he asked hastily, glancing down at his usual work attire and lab coat.

You giggled. “You look handsome for our date too.”

“Oh, this isn’t a date.”

“Didn’t you offer me to come with you to the lab?”

“Yes, but-”

“And didn’t I agree and say it’s a date?”

He nodded quickly. “You keep joking around with that and-”

“Hospital life is boring, let me enjoy experiences like this, hm?” you pleaded and Changkyun bit at his bottom lip before nodding again, holding out his arm for you to take. You were delighted by his chivalry and swooped in around it, clasping his lower arm gently. And you practically skipped at his side all the way to the lab.

You were gracious during the visit. You complimented his team and made them smile, everyone becoming more comfortable with the idea of a patient in the lab. You asked questions and Bora was in her element answering them for you. You were engrossed by the process of their work and by the time Changkyun took you to the back office where he had set up a microscope for today out of the way from the rest of his team, you were buzzing.

“This is amazing. You do so much here!” you breathed, taking a seat next to him in awe. “I’ll never complain about getting another blood test taken again.”

Changkyun looked at your bruised skin around the underside of an elbow and instinctively reached out to run his fingers over it. “You’ve had so many.”

“Those aren’t even the places they get it from me right now,” you lamented, patting his hand gently all the same. “I’m okay if it means I’m helping you all find whatever it is you can in my samples to help me get better.”

“Speaking of samples, should we look at yours now?” he asked after a visible swallow, reaching forward to the equipment and turning it on. He looked through the ocular lens and fiddled with the machine until he was satisfied with the setup. Changkyun then gestured for you to take a look.

You turned timid as you did so, quietly staring into it.

“This is your most recent sample,” he told you and you didn’t answer. Feeling more confident than you in the situation, Changkyun expertly changed settings of the magnification for you and then took the slide out and replaced it with another. “This is a healthy blood sample. Can you see the difference?”

“Kind of. Can you swap them a couple of times so I can get a better understanding?” you asked quietly and he did that for you, hearing you sigh when you were looking at your own again. “So this is why I’m sick?”

“It indicates you have an abnormal cell structure right now, yeah.”

Lifting your eyes from the lens, you glanced curiously at Changkyun. “Are you allowed to show me the other blood sample like this? I mean, I get seeing mine, but another patient-”

“It’s mine,” he confessed with a short laugh. “So you don’t have to worry about any privacy clause.”

“You drew your own blood just to show me this sample?”

“Well, it made sense to have a second slide. In experiments, we always have a control slide when presenting variables and-”

Your lips cut off his explanation then, pressing softly into his. Before he could truly register that you had kissed him, you pulled away, covering your mouth with a hand.

“I uh, I was touched, that’s all,” you quickly told him, turning away from him to recover. Changkyun cleared his throat noisily and then stood up.

“Is there a reason why you’re not allowed to go outside?”

Frowning at his random question, you nodded. “Too many people are out there.”

“Tomorrow at lunchtime, don’t make plans,” he announced and you eyed him carefully. Changkyun, emboldened with your kiss, smiled warmly at you. “I know where you can get direct sunlight without anyone bothering you.”

Admittedly, it had taken Changkyun all this time to find a place where you could access the sun without technically leaving the hospital grounds or leaning out a window to do so. He hadn’t at first understood why he started searching, ruling it down to his logical side needing to find an answer to the question proposed in his mind. But as he helped you up the final metal stairs to the rooftop, Changkyun knew the reason he had searched for this was because he liked you.

A whole lot.

“Wow,” you breathed at the view when you came to a stop at his side, squinting under the bright midday sun. “It’s beautiful up here.”

“I checked with your doctor and also with some medical studies and its safe for twenty minutes for us to just sit here and soak in the sun,” he said and you grinned, going over to the bench on the rooftop and sat down.

You then removed your cardigan and offered your arms out to the light. “Heavenly.”

“I thought you might like this.”

“I should have kissed you sooner if it would lead to this,” you teased as he sat down beside you. “I also have a regret from yesterday’s visit.”

“You do?”

Nodding, you scooted around and promptly laid your head in his lap, dangling your arms and legs out to the warmth from above. You peeked through an eye at his evident surprise from your move and giggled. “You blocked the sun from that side.”

“Oh, so this is merely strategic?”

“And more comfortable,” you admitted, nestling into his thigh some.

Changkyun smiled. “What was your regret?”

“You’ll think I’m mad.”

“Well, you’re certainly not normal,” he quipped and you whined outlandishly. Chuckling, he found himself brushing your hair away from your face so the sun could reach that too. You stilled, looking up at him.

“I like you.”

“I like you too,” he admitted with a shy smile, your own splitting your lips until you were grinning giddily.

“Would you like me even if I wasn’t sick? I’m sure as a medical professional you probably find what you see under the microscope more fascinating than my actual form but-”

“No, it’s not like that at all,” he cut in, still smoothing your hair back from your face. “I like you. Not your illness, not what I see from my work. I can’t deny that I’m invested in seeing the changes to your tests, but that’s just because I saw them before I met you in person. I was invested before I found you trying to soak in sun through a window.”

“Don’t remind me of that embarrassing moment,” you exclaimed, mortified. Throwing a hand over your face to hide your emotions, Changkyun pried it away and held it instead. Your expression evened out and you started to smile again. “You knew my name before you knew me. And you knew a lot more too, I guess.”

“I’d rather get to know you like this though.”

“Me too.”

You sat up suddenly, almost bashing into Changkyun’s chin in the process. Sheepishly flashing him an apologetic smile, you held up your index finger. “That’s right, the regret!”

“You mean not telling me how you felt yesterday wasn’t the regret?”

“I’m pretty sure when I kissed you, it showed you,” you countered and Changkyun rubbed at his neck with his other hand awkwardly. You then looked at him and grinned. “I wanted to wear that!”

“What?”

“Your lab coat!” you explained, tugging at the sleeve of it. “I was in the lab and I didn’t once put one on!”

“Well, you looked so pretty in your dress, why cover it up?”

“Because! Oh, you won’t understand because playing dress-up as a doctor isn’t fun like it is for everyone else who isn’t in the health sector professionally.”

“I’m not a doctor,” he reminded and you rolled your eyes.

“Still, you get to wear a white coat of importance! Let me try it on now.”

“What about the sun?” he asked and you stood up, bouncing around impatiently, almost pulling it off of him when he shrugged it down his shoulders. Slipping it on, you giggled triumphantly and spun around in it. Of course, it was too big and made your child-like request even more obvious. He laughed heartily then, the magic of the moment making his heart soar further for you.

You were right. For him, the lab coat was simply part of his work attire, nothing more. He saw no joy or importance in wearing it since he did so every workday. However, watching you enjoy it made it feel special.

Until you stumbled in your excitement, reaching for your head as you continued to lose your balance. Changkyun lurched towards you, catching you before the ground did. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Just a little dizzy. I guess I went too far.”

“Let’s get you back to your room and get a nurse check your stats, hm?” he offered and you didn’t argue, leaning into his side as he helped you back down the stairs. Once back in your ward, you slipped off his coat and climbed under the blankets, smiling weakly.

The transformation bothered him. Upstairs you were carefree and empowered. Now back under your stark white sheets, you looked weak and tiny. Changkyun blinked back his emotions.

You smiled sadly. “Looks like reality came back for us. Go do amazing things, Changkyun. You’re the one with the power to do so. I’m back where I belong now too.”

He was determined to find a way to make you better again.

“I’ve got it!”

“You have?!” Bora asked immediately, scooting backwards to his station and taking a look at his findings. She grinned. “You bloody have too.”

“Pathology needs to get onto this right away and then the doctors will act upon it, right?” he asked, hope building within his chest. She nodded once and he sent the files through to the team, marching out of the department and over to pathology to follow up.

It hadn’t been easy, and after being in the hospital for over three months now, Changkyun wished he had been able to source the correct abnormality in your tests faster. However, the main thing was they had a definite answer now. You had an autoimmune disease that had triggered the mysterious illness. And whilst knowing that didn’t mean you would get better and be healthier than before, it did give answers. And answers could lead to the right medication to support your health to improve and to help you live with your condition.

Answers meant discharging once better as well.

You stood in the doorway of the department, grinning brightly at Bora who welcomed you in. Changkyun hadn’t seen you yet, still focused on his work. But he stirred as soon as he heard your voice.

“Sorry to interrupt,” you said, looking around the department until you caught his gaze. You slowly grinned. “I just happened to be discharged today and I need to thank the technician who found the answer for my diagnosis.”

He didn’t care about the rest of his team jeering at him right now, getting up from his seat and approaching you. Of course, you already knew of his findings since your treatment began three weeks ago. However, you attempted to keep a straight face as Changkyun stopped in front of you.

“You see, when I was terribly sick, I ran into a lab technician who I told I’d go on a date with him if he helped me get better. I’m here to collect on that date.”

“I thought you were joking,” he murmured and you grinned.

“Oh no, if anything, I asked for the date because you were handsome, not holding onto any hope that you would actually help find the reason for my illness.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and Changkyun walked you out into the hallway, closing the door and the deafening noise out behind him.

He leaned in closer. “Well, I guess I do deserve a reward for my hard work.”

“When can you leave?”

“I think I have some extra hours up my sleeve that I can use to leave work now.”

“Oh good because I want to go on a very long date with you.”

“How long?”

“How much time can you give me?”

Changkyun’s lips were so close to yours now, he merely hummed and you shivered with delight. “How about as long as you want.”

“I’ll be greedy, you know. I’ll want all of your time.”

“I have to work,” he mentioned sadly and you nodded.

“And I have a lot of therapy to attend.”

“But outside of those hours?” he wondered and you pressed into him, kissing him with demand.

It wasn’t his first or even his second kiss with you. And Changkyun knew it wouldn’t be his last either. However, it was one he knew he’d remember forever, the way you tasted so sweet from pure happiness to be leaving the hospital and with him as well.

Finally, you stepped back just enough to catch your breath and answered. “Outside of work and therapy, I hope you can give me all your time. I don’t want to stop repaying you for the rest of my life.”

“Can I ask a question?” he breathed and you nodded. “Did you really mean it about wanting to date me from the first day you saw me?”

“Now that would be telling.”

“So it was a joke!” he whined and you giggled, stepping up on your toes to kiss him again.

“No, I did think you were handsome. I just didn’t believe I’d get this lucky. A cure and a boyfriend. What more could a girl ask for?”

_________________

Thank you for supporting this series.

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[MONSTA X Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

You Got That Look In Your Eyes (Part 2)

Summary: Dean is back in town to take the reader on their first date...

Part 1

Pairing: Rockstar!Dean x reader

Square: Rockstar!AU

Word Count: 3,100ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo���​

______

“Who’s the hot date with?” teased Eileen, munching on a bowl of popcorn on your bed.

“She’s not telling apparently,” said Donna, stealing a handful from the bowl.

“That’s also the third time you’ve put on that dress,” said Eileen.

“It’s definitely edgy,” said Donna.

“You mean slutty,” said Eileen.

“Guys,” you groaned. “I asked you to come over to help me.”

“If you’re going for slutty, that’s the one,” said Donna, rolling off the bed as you threw your head back. “Alright, alright.”

Donna walked into the closet and you lay down on the bed face first.

“I take it you’re over douchebag,” said Eileen. You nodded and she laughed, rolling you into your back. “You just did your makeup. Come on.”

“Well it’s too much,” you said, going into your bathroom and washing off your face.

“Is she having a meltdown cause I totally just found the perfect outfit,” said Donna.

“Y/N? You freaking out on us?” asked Eileen.

“It’s just a guy,” said Donna, wandering into the doorway, holding up a flowery dress and your ripped denim jacket you forgot you even owned.

“That’s cute,” you said, wiping off your face.

“Wear your booties with it and this guy will be all over you,” said Eileen. “So who exactly has got you all in a twist?”

“You don’t know him,” you said, taking the clothes from Donna. 

“Go light. It’ll go better with that,” said Eileen.

“Do you want to do my makeup for me?” you asked.

“I’d love to,” she said, grabbing your mascara out of your hand. 

“Eileen,” you sighed, letting her turn your cheek.

“Fine. But I get to do your hair,” she said, slapping the tube back in your palm.

Half an hour later you stood in front of your mirror, hair in a fishtail braid and smoothing out your dress. 

“I bet this guy is gonna love that,” said Donna over your shoulder. 

“Well he’s gonna be here soon so…” you said, all three of your heads whipping around when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” they both said, skirting out of your room.

“Guys!” you said, both pausing at the top of your stairs. “Can you two please reign it in? And like not be here when I get back later? I like this guy.”

“Well she’s been smiling goofily at her phone the past three weeks. I hope she likes him,” said Donna as you headed down the stairs. 

“Please stay up here until I’m gone?” you asked.

“Duh,” they both said.

“Thank you,” you said, jogging down the stairs and quickly opening the front door. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” said Dean with a big smile, handing over a small batch of flowers. “You look beautiful.”

“What’s he look like?” you heard whispered from the balcony.

“I can’t see. He brought her flowers though. Point one for him,” said back Eileen. Dean chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

“Roommates?”

“Annoying ass friends who should go away now!” you shouted up the stairs. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool. I have been looking forward to this for weeks,” he said.

“You look pretty. Handsome. Pretty handsome,” you said, putting a hand on your face.

“I already know you’re a dork,” he laughed. “But thank you. You ready to go?”

“Let me just stick these in some water,” you said, jogging to the back of the house. You set them in a tall glass for now and headed back to the foyer, slipping on your shoes.

“So,” said Dean, wrapping his hand around yours once you were outside and walking to what looked like a nice rental car. “Your friends sound fun. Let me guess. Eileen and Donna?”

“How’d you know?” you asked.

“Oh, you’re always talking about your besties. It’s cute. I’m glad you got them around,” he said.

“They’re annoying...and they want me to get over the douchebag,” you said.

“Are you?” he asked. “We can keep this completely platonic if you want.”

“I am and I didn’t say I wanted to do that,” you said. Dean hummed, giving you a small nod.

“Good cause you have been flirting with me like crazy,” he said, smirking as he walked around the other side of the car.

“Keep it up, Winchester, keep it up.”

“Jeez,” you said twenty minutes later when you were downtown. “Am I dressed up enough?”

“Yeah,” said Dean. “I’m the one in jeans. Come on.”

You followed him into one of the arguably nicest restaurants in town and started to frown.

“I hope I’m not disappointing you but I just wanted to say hi to a friend quick. I haven’t seen him in a while,” said Dean.

“Oh. That’s cool,” you said, surprised when you started to head back into a kitchen and poked one of the cooks in the shoulder.

“Deano?” he said as he spun around.

“Hey Benny,” said Dean, getting wrapped up in a big hug. “Been awhile.”

“I haven’t seen you in a year, brother. So you think that little music thing is ever gonna work out for ya?” he teased.

“Who knows? You ever think that cooking thing will work out for you?” laughed Dean.

“Good seeing you. You look happier than I’ve seen lately,” he said, looking at you. “Well hello. You are far too attractive for my friend here.”

“This is Y/N,” said Dean.

“The Y/N?” smiled Benny. “Wow. Dean’s got such a crush on you.”

“Thank you, Benjamin,” said Dean.

“I think your friends would get along with mine,” you laughed.

“You got any friends as half as good looking as you and I’m all in,” said Benny.

“Down, Benny,” said Dean.

“You guys eating here?” asked Benny.

“Nah. Just wanted to stop by,” said Dean. “Tour’s ending soon so I should be around more.”

“Well let me know. We’ll grab a bite and a drink at my place,” said Benny. “Actually how about at yours, rich boy.”

“I technically still live at home,” said Dean. “I don’t even have a house.”

“That’s because you’re indecisive,” said Benny. “Now you two go enjoy your date.”

“Later, Benny,” said Dean, leasing you back outside of the restaurant. “Thanks for that. I haven’t seen him in forever.”

“It’s no problem. He’d probably get along with Donna if I think about it,” you said.

“Donna’s a cop, right?” he asked. “Benny would love that.”

“Well maybe if this goes well...we can have a little get together,” you said. “When you’re done with your tour.”

“I can’t wait to just sit down and do absolutely nothing,” he said. “Just sit with a guitar and just enjoy playing.”

“You still enjoy it?” you asked, walking with Dean along the sidewalk. 

“The music, sure. It’s pretty cool hearing a song you wrote sung back to you by a ton of people. Hearing it on the radio is pretty incredible too. But I don’t really like the famous part. I hate going to events and stuff like that. I’d rather be hanging out or having a backyard bonfire,” he said.

“I get that,” you said. “I think you should stick with it though.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. Take a break, get your head on straight, get some good people around you. You’re not some rookie anymore,” you said.

“True. Not been much in the mood to write until recently,” he said.

“You know this is going to sound bad but I totally went and bought your album on iTunes,” you said.

“Well I appreciate it,” he chuckled.

“Wanna know my favorite song?”

“Baby,” he said, your eyes wide. “You seem like a Baby girl.”

“I know it’s not the song that was a hit-“

“It is actually the worst selling one if you can believe it,” he said. 

“I really like that one,” you said.

“You know that song isn’t about a girl? It’s about that car my dad and I are fixing up. We call her Baby,” said Dean.

“I like it cause it’s a little sad,” you said.

“I wrote that when I found out I was going on tour,” he said.

“I like it,” you said with a shrug.

“I’ve been working on another song. This one actually is about a girl,” he said.

“A break up song?” you asked.

“A getting together song,” he said. “You know, when you got a new relationship, that sort of thing.”

“Oh really,” you said.

“Totally different girl, not you,” he teased.

“What’s her name?”

“...shut up,” he said, smiling when you grabbed onto his arm. “I mainly got the chords down is all.”

“Is it a happy song?”

“Very,” he said.

“Good,” you said, Dean swinging your hands together. “Where we eating dinner?”

“You’ll see.”

“I love the food trucks,” you said, halfway through your fish taco ten minutes later. “The douche hated them.”

“A cheater and he doesn’t like great food? What’s wrong with this guy,” said Dean, shoveling some brisket in his mouth. 

“We work together,” you said. “Sorry. I’ll shut up about him.”

“He an ass at work?” asked Dean.

“No. It’s awkward. He cheated on me with one of our co-workers,” you said. “Work sucks right now.”

“Take some time off, recharge,” he said. “Get away from those guys.”

“I can’t. The company is paying off my student loan if I worked for them for five years. I still have three to go,” you said.

“I could pay off your loan,” he said.

“Thanks but no,” you said. 

“How about a year from now if we’re still dating and you haven’t gotten rid of me and work still sucks, I can pay it off so you can be happier someplace else,” he said.

“Sure, why not,” you laughed.

“I think my odds of a second date just went up,” he said. You bumped his hip and he returned it, enjoying his fries before he started to tense up. “Can we go?”

“Yeah. Everything okay?”

“Somebody’s watching us,” he said. You looked around, Dean grabbing your hand and quickly walking the two of you out of there. “Looked like some paparazzi person.”

“You really hate being famous huh,” you said.

“Yup,” he said.

“Let’s head back to the car. I got a private place we can go.”

“You took me to a murder barn,” laughed Dean as you pulled him up the stairs.

“It’s...it’s just a quiet place,” you said, guiding Dean over to the open doors up on the second floor, sitting down and dangling your feet over the edge. 

“Oh,” he said as he sat down, the night sky on full display. “That’s pretty. How’d you find this place?”

“A few friends and I were riding bikes when we were kids and this huge storm rolled in. We were way outside of where we were supposed to be and we spotted this place and hunkered down here until the storm passed. It’s always kinda been a safe place,” you said.

“Thanks for showing it to me,” he said, finding your hand and lacing it together with yours. “I like you, Y/N.”

“I kinda hoped so after all the flirty texts,” you said.

“You started it,” he said.

“You started texting me first!” you said.

“Cause I knew you’d never text me first. I bet a part of you thought that was a game I was playing,” he said.

“It was a very small part,” you said. “But I don’t think that anymore.”

“I don’t like games. Not those kinds of ones anyway,” he said.

“What games do you like?” you asked.

“I was always a fan of hide and go seek,” he said, hopping up. “Count to a hundred?”

“And if I win?” 

“Bragging rights...and maybe I can swipe some extra passes for your friends,” he said with a smile. “Although you don’t have to win to get those.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. You’d have more fun hanging out with them and I’d like to hang out with ‘em. Now, beautiful. Come and catch me.”

“How are you so good at that?” said Dean as you were sat on the hood of baby, eating some fast food take out and sipping on a pair of beers from your six pack an hour later. “Hide and seek.”

“Older brothers,” you said. “Four older brothers to be exact.”

“I see. You were thoroughly traumatized as a child then,” he chuckled.

“Oh, for sure,” you said. “But I got to annoy the shit out of them.”

“My little brother would agree with you on that,” he said. “Is this okay for like, a first date? I know you were probably expecting better than McDonald’s at one in the morning.”

“I like this first date. It’s simple and we’re not stuck in some restaurant where we can't hear each other talk and it’s fun to just bounce around, ya know?” you said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Simple’s nice. I like simple.”

“I still can’t believe you’re dating this guy,” said Eileen, shoveling a few chips in her mouth in the VIP room the next night. 

“Want me to do a background check on him?” asked Donna.

“Don, no,” you said.

“Too late,” she said.

“And…” you said.

“Clean record. Apparently he and a friend went for a bit of a little speeding on the highway one night in said friend’s dad’s truck when they were teens. They just scared the shit out of them though. He looks about as harmless as a puppy dog,” she said.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. Still though. I will kill him if I have to,” she said.

“Me too,” said Eileen, eating more chips. “These are so good. Sam hates chips.”

“Yeah but Sam’s like hot,” said Donna.

“Good point,” laughed Eileen, swallowing hard as she stared past you. “Hi.”

“Hi Eileen,” said Dean, giving her a smile before turning to Donna. “Hi Donna. You guys keeping Y/N occupied for me?”

“Uh huh,” they both nodded.

“Guys. He’s like a regular dude. Stop freaking on me,” you said.

“Regular dude who’s gonna sing in front of like a gajillion people,” said Donna.

“I heard you’re a bit of a singer, Donna,” said Dean. You gave her a grin, Donna glaring at you. 

“Yeah...I’m not really great,” she said, poking Eileen. “Eileen. Talk.”

“S’okay. You guys looked like you were having a good time before I interrupted-“

“Your last name is Winchester,” she said. “That’s like...your real name?”

“Uh huh,” he said.

“You wouldn’t happen to be related to Sam Winchester on the off chance would you?” She asked with a swallow. Dean’s face lit up, looking Eileen up and down.

“You’re that Eileen! Oh, Sammy is head over heels for you,” said Dean with a laugh. “He’s my little brother. He pretends we’re not related sometimes. I don't really blame him. But he has a super crush on you. He talks about you for hours.”

“Really?” she said.

“Yeah, he thinks you’re awesome,” said Dean. 

“Well, he’s alright,” she said with a shrug, biting her bottom lip.

“You know he believed in the Easter bunny until he was twelve,” said Dean.

“I wonder who told him that,” you said, Dean chuckling. 

“Well I’ve got to run ladies. Enjoy the show and if you guys want anything, be sure to go ask Kyle,” said Dean. He nodded for you to walk out with him, Dean pausing by the door. “Small world with Eileen, huh?”

“Your little brother is a lawyer?” you asked.

“Mhm,” said Dean. “I try to keep him out of this stuff. But I mean, not to gossip but Sammy really loves your friend, you know.”

“I think she knows,” you said with a smile.

“Do you want to grab a bite or a drink after the show?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. “We were thinking of getting a pizza at my house later.”

“I like you guys. You eat all the time,” he chuckled.

“Boys are invited,” you said. “If you want.”

“Can my brother come?” he asked.

“Yeah. Invite your friend Benny too if he’s free,” you said. “You know, Donna’s single and always down to mingle.”

“Alright,” he said with a smile. “Now I really got something to look forward to.”

“Hey, go have fun out there,” you said.

“Okay but only cause you asked,” he said, flashing you a wink.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said.

“But I’m cute right?” he teased.

“Eh…” you said, Dean pouting. “Yeah, I guess you’re cute. Oh hey, what kind of pizza do you like?”

“Whatever you want is fine, sweetheart,” he said.

“Come on. My treat,” you said.

“I never turn down buffalo chicken,” he said.

“You just got more attractive,” you said, Dean smirking at you. “I will order some then and I will see you after the concert?”

“Mhm. Be sure to catch the last song before you head out though,” he said, smiling before he pecked a kiss to your cheek. “Later, Y/N.”

“Alright, I know this is normally the end of the show but I got something new I want to share with you guys,” he said, spinning on his stool, flashing a wink off stage at you. “It’s called Simple.”

“He wrote you a song called that?” whispered Donna in your ear.

“Why?” asked Eileen in your other one as Dean started to strum his fingers.

“Cause for some reason, with Dean, it’s simple.”

_______

[detroit-become-hurt]

Do As I Say

Summary: You meet the Swedes for the first time

You had been working at the Commission for several years now, quickly climbing their ranks. As time progressed, you became one of their best field agents. So normally, when you got new recruits in, it was your job to train them along with some other well skilled agents. “y/n, please report to the lobby, y/n please report to the lobby.” someone announced over the comm. “Looks like you get some new trainees today,” your friend Mel says, catching the book you tossed to her. 

“Yup. And let's hope they’re not idiots this time. The last batch I had to train never listened, and now look where they are. Dead as flies. Seeya Mel.” throwing your suit jacket back on you made your way down towards the lobby where you saw Andrew, another co-worker of yours, and three blond men. “Ah, y/n, good to see you as always. Anyways, these are the new recruits we need you to train.” He says. “Why aren’t they in uniform?” You asked, noting that the three brothers wore very...dated looking clothes. “Ah, that is classified. All I can tell you is that you have to train them. Show em how to fight, but in regards to the protocol that we have to follow, they don’t. Why? Couldn’t tell ya.” 

Rolling your eyes you huffed, “I understand the meaning of the word training dummy I’ve trained countless agents here, you included so don’t be getting cocky with me. Anyways, you three, follow me. We’ll get started now.” You say beginning to walk away. “Bite me y/n, just make sure that these three don’t die this time or we’re all in trouble.” Hearing this you stopped dead in your tracks, almost causing the shortest man to bump into your backside. Before the three could react you had grabbed a knife that was in the inside pocket-how you knew that was there bewildered them-and threw it right at Andrew.

“Jesus! Fucking hell you crazy ass! That hurt!” he cries out as you pinned him to a wall, the knife going through his ear. “You’re lucky I wasn’t aiming for your eyes, or better yet your dick you insolent piece of shit! You know just as well as I do that it wasn’t my fault the last recruits died in the field. Now watch your tongue before I cut it out!” Pulling the knife out you wiped the blood on his jacket before returning it to the man you took it from. By now everyone was staring at you, watching to see what would happen next. “Return to your business, you three with me.” You say walking back in your originally intended direction. 

The three men followed silently, following you into a training room. “Right, my name’s y/n. You do exactly as I say, when I say. If you don’t you end up dying. What’s your name?” You asked. They were silent for a moment before speaking, “Oscar”, “Otto”, “Axel”. “Great okay, if you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask, because there’s nothing I hate more than training people and them not asking questions when they have the chance! Now, before we begin, any questions to start off with?” You asked.

Oscar raised his hand, and with a laugh you called on him. “How did you know about the knife…” You shrug, “Where the knife sat, it created a stiff area of your coat. Besides, what kind of field agent would I be if I didn’t know my opponent had weapons on them? Any more?” Not receiving an answer you clapped your hands. “Right, so do any of you have experience with hand to hand?” both Otto and Axel nodded. “Alright, lets see what you boys got. Axel, you first.” He followed you to the middle of the room where there were mats laid down. “Give me all you got.” You say. Otto and Oscar had to admit, watching you fight Axel was very intriguing. It seems you were both evenly matched, which was a first. Not even Otto could best Axel in hand to hand.

“You’re actually really good,” You say when Axel managed to put you in a choke hold, “But you’re not good enough.” And with that you managed to escape his hold, flipping him over and pinning him to the ground. “At least, not yet,” you whispered in his ear before standing up. “Otto, you’re next.” You called after tapping Axel’s arm signaling he was done. Your height compared to Otto was drastic, and seeing this Otto thought he would have an advantage. However, he was proven wrong when you had him pinned down as well. Axel wouldn’t show or say it, but he was very impressed by you. He found you interesting, and when you whispered in his ear-no. Forget that.

The rest of the day was spent evaluating the current skills the brothers had. They weren’t bad, but they could be better. Wiping the sweat off your brow you sighed as you looked at your watch. “Well, that does it for today. Tomorrow, we’ll meet back here to work on some more skills. See you then.” You say dismissing them. You were packing up some of the training equipment before deciding to speak, “Whatever you have to say spit it out.” 

“What happened to the last recruits?” Axel asked, causing you to sigh. Turning to face the brothers you see that they’re clearly curious. “They were on a job, one of our own went rogue. I told them to not underestimate him, but they didn’t listen. The next day I was called into the morgue, had to identify each and every one of them. They were slaughtered like pigs.” Wiping your hands on your pants you sigh, “Which is why you guys have to do as I say. The last team didn’t. Look where that got them. You can’t screw up, not for yourselves, and definitely not for me or else I’ll kill you myself.” By now you were making your way towards the brothers until you were standing in front of them, so close your chests could touch, “So do as I say, and we’ll be good.” Brushing past them you made your way back to your room.

The triplets watched you disappear down the hall. While they didn’t appreciate you telling them not to screw up for your sake, they understood where you were coming from. They decided later that night, while they laid in bed limbs aching, that maybe you weren’t so bad, and that they actually quite liked you. They looked forward to working with you more in the future.