#need to get back to doing these earlier in the week...

[bunny-jpeg]

max verstappen, blueberry bars, belgian waffles, tim bits with margarita and root beer. like, reader is max's naive and innocent best friend and he does this without her knowledge, asleep or drugs. she ends up preg and max convinces her that it sometimes happens and promises to take care of her.

bakery menu

want to submit an order? the bakery is open! submit your orders and i'll try to get through them as fast as possible. been a bit of a slow period because of the holdays/end of the year, but i'm making a comeback with 'em since they are very popular with ya'll! i was immediately drawn to this one, i love a good dark fic and i knew i had to write it! so thank you, thank you! enjoy <3

blueberry bars: “gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.” + belgian waffles: "i cum in that every night." + tim bits: "stupid little thing." + margarita: unprotected sex + root beer: filming/recording served by max verstappen!

tags: smut/pwp, dark fic/dark themes, filming/recording, unprotected sex, breeding& pregnancy, best friend!reader, non-con somophilia, innocent!reader, mad!max, drugging

the sight of you was beautiful, there was something about your sleeping form that drove him mad. max knew that he could have any woman he desired, but why would he desire them when he could have you. you pulled him in, but even after years of friendship. you never seemed to notice max's advances, and he was getting desperate.

earlier in the evening you complained about not being able to sleep. you were visiting your best friend who was happy to house you in his apartment in monaco, so when max handed you a dainty little pill and told you to have a good night, you happily took it. and when your soft snores could be heard from the doorway of the bedroom, max felt himself getting arousing.

you looked like an innocent princess, and max believed himself to be the prince who will protect you. even if that meant having his hands under your shirt while you were asleep. a prince deserved a reward didn't he?

you laid under the sheet, which max pulled off slowly. you were in a thin tank top and underwear. he felt his heartbeat leap at the sight of you. he took out his phone to take photos.

he chuckled to himself lowly, "i cum in that every night." a cheeky joke as he had spent the last week slipping you a little pill and having his wicked way with you once you were asleep. you were quite nice when you were asleep, so much softer. it only made max yearn for you more. he wanted you, you were just too beautiful. he groaned as he felt tension in his sweatpants, "stupid little thing."

there was hunger inside of him, he needed you. wanted you in carnal ways that he couldn't put into words. the sight of you, he took more photos as he got his cock out of his sweatpants and rubbed it against your now bare stomach. he shuddered, "beautiful little thing. so stupid. need someone to protect you. you need to be saved don't you? well that's what i'm here for." he then got your panties down around your ankle and exposed your entire form to him.

it was only right for him to admire every inch of you, you were going to be his wife. the mother of his child. he said softly, “gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.” and you shifted a little, it excited him as he got between your legs. he felt the rush through him as he sank his cock into you.

he had been doing this every night for a week now. every evening like ritual, he made sure you were tucked in, only for him to peel back the sheets and fuck you with a feverish want while you sleep. max had enough of beating around the bush with your love, he was a man of action.

and all he needed was for two little cells to meet before that action became a plan. some would call it baby trapping, but he'd call it a promise of commitment. you weren't going to do it alone, you'd have max every step of the way. he'd even retired to make sure that you and his baby were taken care of.

he could feel the pleasure through his body as he moved against you. he held your legs wrapped around him as he leaned in to kiss you on the lips. he snatched his phone up from the bed and snapped photos and took a small video of his cock being rocked in and out of you. he let out a small groan as the pleasure seeped into his blood. you felt amazing, he eyed your sleeping form as he picked up the pace a little bit more. he filmed a little more and let himself just enjoy the feeling of your slick cunt.

it was like a warm vice that pulled him in further. he took it as a sign that your body wanted it. you wanted this too, to carry his child. of course you did, you were so innocent and sweet. bordering on naive that max knew that you'd want a baby. a chubby little verstappen baby at your hip, you'd make a good mother.

and max knew that, even if you didn't at that moment.

he groaned lightly as he held onto your hips. he felt the climbing warmth in his body as he fucked you. feeling your body against his. your sleeping form was like the future in his eyes. he could imagine your wedding, having your family. you being the perfect wife for him. it was only destiny for the two of you, you had been friends for ages.

he knew everything about you, no other man would be able to compare. to think they could would be stupid to think, you were meant to be with max. for him to dote, love and protect. you didn't need to do anything else besides be his wife and the mother of his children. he had already made enough money to sustain a full house for three lifetimes. you deserved a man who could provide, max knew you 'dated', but they never lasted long. they didn't deserve to be with a woman like you. an angel from the heavens brought to earth.

"i love you." he said, "even when you don't see it. i know you do, i know you love me. you want me badly, but you don't think you're good enough. hopefully when i get you pregnant you can realize that i love you. i need you." his breathing was heavy as he thrusted against you.

there was no protection between you two and honestly he didn't need it. 'protection' wouldn't get you pregnant, wouldn't keep you as his. plus, it felt so much better bare-back. to feel the closeness to you. fill you with his seed and let it take root inside of you. then maybe you'd come to your senses.

maybe he could've done it a different way, but why would we do that? you looked so peaceful, he knew you weren't getting sleep. and max, the dutiful husband, would always make sure that you were alright. he just happened to want your sweet cunt wrapped around his hard cock at the same time. who could blame him, your pussy was the kind to salivate over like a hungry dog.

to love you, in his own twisted way, was a sign of utter devotion. even in your sleep, he would protect you. he knew what was right, and had convinced himself that breeding you while asleep was the best course of action. it'll prove that max is the man you need in your life, the protector. you were so innocent at times, anyone could hurt you!

but not max, at least in his logic.

you cunt felt amazing around his cock. his heart hammered in his chest a she rocked against you. he panted heavily as he moved against you. he held onto your thighs firmly and the dirty talk spilled from his lips. it was hard to make it stop at the feeling of your cunt like a vice around his cock. he rutted up into your further, as deep as he could go, as he said, "you're a fucking good girl. always did everything right, you were so trusting. that's why i have to keep you with me. close to me, where you belong. you're my wife, i knew that from the moment i met you. but the older we get, the further you're getting. time to bring you home. you, me and baby." his voice was hushed, but his words were protective and loving. or his version of loving.

if anyone saw or heard what he was doing. they'd be in shock, but they didn't understand. they didn't get how much you meant to him. he spent so much time trying to find you in other women, but why bother with them when he had you. all of you.

and soon there would be a product of your love. your union together. that only made him work his hips faster against you. you remained limp under him as he drilled his cock into you. your let out a small moan in your deep sleep and it made max near drool as he finished inside of you.

he thrusted quickly against you and felt all semblance of control start to slip. he was left hungry, near feverish from the intensity of the pleasure. he loved it, just as he loved you. of course the love of his life would have a cunt that drove him to near insanity.

he soon finished inside of you after the pleasure took hold. he clutched onto you tightly and felt the intense heights of pleasure. he let out a loud moan before he slowed to a stop. he wiped his sweaty brow and eyed your still sleepy form. it made his cock twitch inside of you for a moment.

he leaned in to kiss you on the lips before he pulled away to get you re-clothed and tucked back in. before he left the room, he kissed you on the face once more and said,

"everything i do. i do for you."

-

you were in tears weeks later, you showed max the pregnancy test when fear in your eyes. and while you looked distraught, max looked excited. the test clattered on the floor as max took you in his strong arms and kissed your face.

"how..how did this happen?" you asked meekly.

max replied with a wide smile, "don't worry about it! it's our little miracle! you and the baby won't go without. we'll have to get a bigger place, and move your stuff back home. or i can buy you new things since you'll be going through so much change... and then of course, i have to marry you. it's only right!" he was already talking like you two had planned this pregnancy.

but it was hard to do much thinking when max held you so protectively. you held onto the front of his shirt and rubbed your face against his chest. you exhaled deeply, still feeling shaken to your core. you held on tightly like a lifeline, knowing that max's child was growing in your womb. a part of you wondered if the things you were feeling late into the night weren't dreams after all. <3

[thesecondhandwoman]

BOTTOM OF THE BOTTLE

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: Another night, another time that Sevika returns home drunken off of cheap booze from The Last Drop. But this time, it was the last night that you could take it any longer.

A/N: I had to start this year off with a Sevika fanfic. I just had to.

The creak of the apartment door tore through the quiet night like a blade. You’d been waiting, pacing, and stewing in the dim glow of a single lantern. Sevika was late tonight, again. But you didn’t expect the heavy thud of her boots to hit the floor this late, nor the unmistakable tang of Last Drop whiskey that followed her like a storm cloud.

“Sevika,” you said, stepping into view. “God, you’re drunk, aren’t you?”

She didn’t bother taking off her coat. Instead, she slumped against the doorframe, the flickering lamplight casting shadows across her sharp, exhausted features. Her metal arm whirred faintly as she ran a hand through her disheveled hair.

“Nice observation,” she drawled, her voice thick with liquor and something darker—Anger? Frustration? She kicked the door shut with her heel, the sound reverberating in your chest.

You crossed your arms. “Where were you? I waited, again.”

“Don’t start, you already know damn well where I was” she muttered, brushing past you. “Plus, I’m not in the mood.”

“Not in the mood?” You followed her into the small kitchen as she reached for the half-empty bottle she’d left on the counter earlier that week. “Sevika, we were supposed to talk tonight, about us, about this.”

“This?” She turned, bottle in hand, and gestured between the two of you with a bitter laugh. “What is this, huh? Me coming back to you nagging? You waiting around like some—some Undercity housewife? Is that what you want?”

Her words stung like a slap. “What I want is for you to actually care about this relationship. About me! But you’re too busy drinking and fighting Jinx’s battles to even—”

“Don’t you dare bring her into this,” Sevika snapped, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, the air between you felt suffocating. “You don’t get it. You don’t get what it takes to survive out there.”

“I don’t get it?” Your voice rose, trembling with the weight of held-back tears. “You think I don’t know what survival looks like? I’ve been surviving my whole damn life! But surviving isn’t enough anymore, Sevika. I need more. I need you—sober, present, not drowning yourself at the Last Drop every night!”

She scoffed, turning away from you to take a swig from the bottle. The sight was infuriating, her indifference like salt in a wound.

“Don’t walk away from me!” you yelled, your voice cracking. “For once, just face this and have an actual conversation!”

“Why?” she barked, spinning back to you with a fire in her eyes that you hadn’t seen in weeks. “So you can tell me how I’m failing you? How I’m not enough? Guess what? I’ve never been enough—for Silco, for Zaun, for anyone. Why the hell would you be any different?”

The raw vulnerability in her words made your breath hitch, but the alcohol twisted them into something cruel. You stepped back, crossing your arms defensively.

“You know what?,” you muttered quietly, voice trembling but firm. “You’re right. You’re not enough—not like this. And I can’t keep pretending it’s okay.”

Her expression faltered, the weight of your words landing like a punch. She staggered back a step, bottle still in hand, before the anger flared again. “So what? You’re just gonna leave, huh? Walk away like everyone else?”

“Maybe I should,” you shot back, hating the way your voice shook. “You’re the one pushing me away, Sevika. Not the other way around.”

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of her breathing—heavy, uneven. She looked at you like you’d just struck her, but the tension between you was unbearable.

Finally, she set the bottle down on the counter with a loud clink. “Fine,” she muttered, her voice low and venomous. “Do what you want. I won’t stop you.”

You blinked, your chest tightening as the tears you’d been holding back spilled over. “Is that all you have to say?”

She didn’t answer, her gaze fixed on the floor as if looking at you would shatter her completely.

“Sevika, are you serious?” Your voice cracked, softer now, pleading. But she didn’t move, didn’t respond.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turned and headed for the bedroom, leaving her standing there in the room, alone with only the soft flicker of the light. The weight of her words, and your own, pressed heavily against your chest.

You wanted to believe this wasn’t the end, that the Sevika you loved was still somewhere beneath the alcohol and anger. But as you closed the door behind you, the sound of her lighting another cigarette echoed in your ears, and you weren’t sure if she’d ever let you reach her again.

The first thing Sevika noticed when she woke was the ache in her head—a dull, relentless pounding that made her groan and press her flesh hand against her temple. Her mouth was dry, and her tongue felt like sandpaper. The faint stench of whiskey clung to her clothes, and the stale taste of regret lingered on her lips.

Her eyes cracked open, adjusting slowly to the dim light filtering through the curtains. She was still on the couch where she had lit her cigarette, her body slumped awkwardly across the cushions. Memories of the night before hit her like a freight train—stumbling through the door, the sharp edge of your voice, the argument that escalated too quickly.

“Shit,” she muttered, dragging herself upright. Her metal arm whirred faintly as she stretched, her muscles stiff from a night spent in an uncomfortable position. She rubbed her face, trying to shake off the fog in her head, but the memory of your last words cut through the haze like a blade.

“You’re the one pushing me away, Sevika. Not the other way around.”

She groaned again, this time not from the hangover but from the guilt gnawing at her chest. She’d passed out before she could even think about apologizing. Her pride, fueled by whiskey and frustration, had kept her from chasing after you when you’d stormed off.

Now, she needed to find you, to fix this—if it wasn’t too late.

Sevika pushed herself off the couch, her heavy boots thudding against the floor as she made her way toward the bedroom. Her heart sank as she approached the partially open door. She hesitated for a moment, gripping the doorframe for support.

She called out softly, “Hey, babe, are you awake?”

No response.

She stepped into the room, her gaze immediately sweeping across the bed where she’d last seen you. It was empty. The sheets were rumpled, as if you’d sat there for a while before leaving, but there was no sign of you now.

“Y/N?” she called again, louder this time, her voice cracking slightly.

The silence was deafening.

Her heart began to pound in her chest as her eyes darted around the room. Your jacket was missing from the hook near the door. The pair of boots you always wore to work was gone from their usual spot by the dresser. She opened the closet, her stomach twisting when she noticed the gap where some of your clothes had been.

“No,” she whispered, stepping back, her head shaking in disbelief. “No, no, no…”

Her eyes landed on the nightstand. A folded piece of paper sat there, your handwriting scrawled across the front: Sevika.

She froze, her chest tightening. It took her a moment to move, her hands trembling slightly as she picked up the note. Her fingers hesitated at the edge of the fold, almost as if opening it would confirm the reality she was desperate to deny.

Finally, she unfolded the paper and began to read:

Sevika,

I don’t even know where to start. Maybe with “I’m sorry.” Sorry for yelling, for making this harder than it already is. But I think the truth is, we’ve both been making it hard.

I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you, even when you make it so damn difficult. I love the woman you are when the walls come down, when it’s just the two of us and the world doesn’t matter. But lately, it feels like I’m the only one fighting for that version of you.

I know you’re hurting. I know life hasn’t been kind to you, and you think drowning yourself in alcohol and shutting everyone out is the only way to cope. But Sevika, it’s killing us.

I need you to understand something: I can’t keep breaking myself to pull you out of the dark. I want to be here for you, but I can’t if you won’t meet me halfway.

I’m leaving. Not because I don’t love you, but because I do. If you ever decide you’re ready to let me in—to let yourself heal—you know where to find me.

~I’m sorry, Y/N.

Her grip on the letter tightened as she read, the words blurring slightly as her eyes burned with tears she refused to let fall. The raw honesty in your words cut deeper than any blade ever could. She sank onto the edge of the bed, the letter trembling in her hand.

She’d always thought she was protecting you by keeping her pain to herself, by drowning it in whiskey and fights. But all she’d done was push you away, the one person who had ever truly cared for her.

Her gaze dropped to the floor, her jaw clenching. She wanted to scream, to punch something, to make this crushing guilt and regret go away, but none of that would bring you back.

Sevika folded the letter carefully, setting it back on the nightstand. For a long moment, she just sat there, staring at the empty space where you should’ve been.

Finally, she stood, her resolve hardening. She wouldn’t let this be the end. If you’d left her a chance, any chance, she would take it. She didn’t know where you’d gone, but she’d find you, especially since she had the smallest idea of where.

And when she did, she would prove that she could be better, that she could be the woman you deserved.

Grabbing her coat, she slipped the letter into her pocket and headed for the door, determination etched into her every step.

The streets of the Undercity were as unforgiving as ever, the air thick with smoke and desperation. Sevika walked with purpose, her boots crunching against the damp cobblestones. Her mind was a storm of emotions—fear, guilt, and determination blending into a volatile mix.

Her destination loomed ahead: Babette’s brothel. The flickering neon sign bathed the surrounding alley in a crimson glow, casting shadows that seemed to taunt her as she approached. She hated this place—not because of what it was, but because it was where you always ran when things got too heavy between the two of you. It was a place you’d told her once made you feel safe, even if Sevika could never understand why.

Sevika pushed open the heavy wooden door, the warm scent of perfume and alcohol hitting her immediately. Inside, the brothel was alive with laughter, soft music, and low murmurs. Velvet drapes hung from the walls, and the dim lighting painted the room in hues of red and gold.

A few of the women lounging near the entrance glanced her way, their smiles faltering when they recognized her. Sevika had a reputation, and it wasn’t one that made people feel comfortable.

She ignored their stares, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Babette. The Madame of the house was seated at her usual spot near the bar, her dark pinkish hair and sharp smile as disarming as ever.

Babette’s gaze flicked to Sevika, and her smile widened, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, well, if it isn’t Zaun’s favorite enforcer. What brings you here, Sevika? Looking for company tonight?”

Sevika didn’t bother with pleasantries. She crossed the room in long, purposeful strides, stopping just short of Babette’s table. “Where is she?”

Babette raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. “You’ll have to be more specific. I have a lot of girls here, darling.”

“You know who I’m talking about,” Sevika growled, her voice low and dangerous. “Where’s Y/N?”

Babette’s playful demeanor faltered for a moment, her sharp eyes narrowing as she studied Sevika. “You’ve always got some nerve, barging in here like this after what she’s been through.”

Sevika’s jaw tightened. “I don’t have time for this. Just tell me where she is.”

Babette leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs elegantly. “And why should I? Do you have any idea what you’ve put her through? She came here last night, Sevika, crying, shaking, looking for somewhere to feel like she wasn’t drowning. Do you really think I’m just going to send you after her so you can make things worse?”

The words hit Sevika like a punch to the gut, but she refused to let it show. She clenched her metal fist at her side, the faint whirring noise barely audible over the music. “I know I screwed up. I know I hurt her. But I need to make this right.”

Babette studied her for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she sighed, leaning forward. “You’re lucky she still cares about you, or I wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

Sevika’s heart skipped a beat. “So, where is she?”

“She’s upstairs,” Babette said, her voice softer now, though still tinged with warning. “Room six. But Sevika…”

Sevika paused, looking back at her.

“If you go up there and hurt her again, I won’t let you walk out of here in one piece. Do you understand me?” Babette’s eyes were cold and sharp, her voice like steel.

Sevika nodded, her throat tight. “I understand.”

Without another word, she turned and headed for the staircase, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Room six.

She stopped in front of the door, her hand hovering over the handle. For a moment, she hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. She couldn’t afford to let her fear control her now. Finally, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your head resting in your hands. The soft glow of a single lamp bathed the room in golden light, highlighting the tear stains on your cheeks. At the sound of the door opening, you looked up, your eyes widening slightly when you saw her.

“Sevika?” Your voice was a mixture of surprise and exhaustion.

She closed the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice rough but sincere. “We need to talk.”

You stared at Sevika, your body tense, unsure whether to let her stay or tell her to leave. The raw vulnerability in her expression—the regret etched into the lines of her face—wasn’t something you saw often. It caught you off guard, softening the sharp edges of your anger.

“What are you doing here, Sevika?” you asked, your voice quiet but strained. “You said everything you needed to say last night.”

She stepped closer, hesitant, her boots barely making a sound on the worn carpet. Her metal hand flexed at her side, the faint whirring a reflection of her nerves. “I was drunk,” she admitted, her tone rough. “But that doesn’t excuse it. None of it does.”

You blinked, unsure if you were hearing her correctly. Sevika wasn’t one to apologize easily, or at all.

She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply. “I… I messed up. I’ve been messing up for a while now, and I know I’ve hurt you. You didn’t deserve that.”

“No,” you said, your voice trembling as the tears you thought you’d run out of threatened to return. “I didn’t.”

Her gaze dropped, shame washing over her features. “You’re right. I’ve been pushing you away. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own shit—my anger, my pride, my damn drinking—that I didn’t see what it was doing to you. To us.”

You swallowed hard, your hands curling into fists in your lap. “Do you even understand how much that hurt? Watching you destroy yourself while I sat there, trying to hold us together? Do you know what it’s like to love someone who won’t let you in?”

“I do,” she said quietly, her voice cracking just enough to make your breath hitch. “Because I’ve been watching you do the same. You’ve been trying to save me, and I’ve been too damn scared to let you.”

The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling between you like a fragile thread. She stepped closer, kneeling in front of you, her metal hand resting on her thigh while her flesh one reached out hesitantly.

“I don’t deserve you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “But I want to try. I want to be better, for you, for us. I can’t promise it’ll be easy, but I don’t want to lose you. Please, Y/N.”

Your heart ached at the sight of her, this powerful, stubborn woman kneeling before you, baring her soul in a way she’d never done before. The anger and hurt inside you hadn’t disappeared, but they softened under the weight of her sincerity.

“You hurt me, Sevika,” you whispered, tears spilling down your cheeks. “And I don’t know if I can keep doing this if you won’t fight for us.”

She nodded, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I will. I swear I will. Just give me one more chance. Let me prove it to you.”

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. But then you saw it—the fear in her eyes, the desperation. Sevika, who rarely showed weakness, was letting herself be vulnerable for you.

Slowly, you reached out, your hand brushing against hers. Her breath hitched at the contact, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

“I need you to mean it,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the tears. “I need to know you’ll try, Sevika. Not just for me, but for yourself.”

She nodded again, her grip tightening around your hand. “I will. I promise.”

The sincerity in her voice broke something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around her neck. She stiffened for a moment, then melted into the embrace, her arms encircling your waist as she held you tightly.

The tears came for both of you, quiet sobs that filled the room as the tension and pain of the last few weeks spilled out. She buried her face in your shoulder, her body trembling slightly as she clung to you like you were the only thing keeping her grounded.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against your skin, her voice cracking. “I’m so damn sorry.”

“I know,” you murmured, your fingers tangling in her hair. “I know.”

For a long time, neither of you moved, content to stay wrapped in each other’s arms. Eventually, Sevika pulled back just enough to look at you, her face inches from yours. Her hand came up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing away the lingering tears.

“I love you,” she said softly, the words raw and honest.

Your breath hitched, and you leaned into her touch. “I love you too.”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching yours for permission. When you nodded, she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. It wasn’t like the desperate, heated kisses you’d shared in the past. This one was different—softer, filled with unspoken promises and a tentative hope for something better.

When she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breath warm against your skin. “I’ll do better,” she murmured. “I swear.”

“I know, I believe you.” You whispered, and for once, you truly did believe it.

A/N: And now I go back to all the requests I’ve got (a lot of them are on domestic Caitvi)

[janeyseymour]

Love Languages

Summary: You're the music teacher at Abbott Elementary, and you find that Melissa Schemmenti's love language may be not-so-gentle bullying- in Italian.

WC: ~2.8k

After accepting a music teaching position in one of the rougher areas in the greater Philadelphia area, it’s safe to say that you aren’t quite sure what’s going to be coming your way. Still, you persevere and head into Willard R. Abbott Elementary School’s professional development week with a smile and your bright and sunny disposition. The only way that you think you can make it as a teacher in a less affluent area with harder backgrounds than what you’re used to is to remain as positive as possible.

You quickly learn that there are about two teachers in the school who attempt to stay as positive as you when you walk into the library for your first meeting of the school year: Janine Teagues and Jacob Hill. The rest of the teachers are older and a bit more seasoned- jaded and attuned to the situation that you’re all in. It’s an underfunded school with students who don’t necessarily come from money with a principal who can poorly manage the building at times. 

Still, as the meeting drags on (you feel like you don’t actually know what you’re walking into; most of the presentation has been pictures of Ava during her vacation this summer), you attempt to stay focused. Eventually, the topic shifts into more educational topics, and you take down a few notes despite the fact that benchmarks and other state mandated tests are not a part of your curriculum. And at some point towards the end, the principal introduces you to the rest of the staff.

“She our new music teacher,” Ava tells your new coworkers. “Don’t go scarin’ her off the way you scared off White, you hear?” She actively points at one teacher in particular with her perfectly manicured nails. “Schemmenti, I’m talkin’ to you.”

Your eyes follow the direction of Ava’s hand, and sitting there is a beautiful redhead who looks like she hasn’t been paying attention to these staff meetings for the last seven years. Striking green eyes are rolled, and Schemmenti scoffs.

At lunch, you’re just trying to heat up your meal when you’re practically bombarded by the two younger teachers who still seem to have a childlike wonder to them.

“You should sit with us so we can get to know you!” Janine smiles. She had already introduced herself and Jacob to you earlier in the day, and it’s quite clear she’s taken with your bright, yet somewhat shy, personality.

“And why would she do that, pipsqueak?” you hear a low voice growl. “I thought we had our group pretty filled out- and that was before Greg even wormed his way in.”

Your eyes search for who that voice belongs to, and it’s none other than the redhead from earlier. Damn- it’s sexy the way she speaks.

“Because, Melissa,” Janine gestures wildly. “It’s important that she feels comfortable at this school! I want her to feel just as welcome as I did my first few days here.”

“I didn’t do nothin’ to try to make you feel welcome,” Melissa states. “And I ain’t goin’ out of my way to be nice to someone who’s just going to leave us in a few days anyway.” Then she turns to look at you. “Ain’t that right, newbie?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and find out,” you quip as the microwave signals that your food is finished. You smile at the group warmly before sighing. “While I do appreciate the invite, I have a few things I still need to set up in my room and get together. Have a nice day though!”

You exit, but not before you hear Melissa grumbling, “She’s just another leccaculo. Ass kisser.”

You aren’t, but you suppose that she doesn’t know you yet, so you let it slide and silently head off to your classroom to pour over lesson plans while you eat your meal.

That’s only the first time she calls you that. As time goes on, she gets more confident and starts insulting you in Italian to your face. The first time she has the courage to call you a leccaculo directly, you have to bite back a laugh. She has no idea you know what she’s saying- you had taken Italian all throughout high school and studied abroad in college.

“I’m not an ass kisser,” you chuckle, and your laughter only grows when emerald eyes widen with realization that you understand her. “But thanks anyway.”

She calls you a myriad of other insults in Italian as the days pass by, whether it be in the staff room or while she’s dropping off or picking her kids up from music. Occasionally, it’s when you have the unfortunate lunch duty, and she does too. And each time she does it, you just roll your eyes playfully and laugh before letting her know you know the translation, refuting her claim, and thanking her.

It almost becomes like a bit of yours- and inside joke to a certain degree. Sure, she calls the others Italian insults from time to time, but yours seem to be almost daily, if not every day. And you’re the only one who actually knows what she’s saying, which makes it all the more hilarious.

It’s not like you really mind either. It’s quite entertaining to you to see that even when she starts to switch to Sicilian slang, you know what she’s saying. It’s keeping the language alive in your mind.

“Don’t you care that she says all that stuff to you?” Janine asks you one day after Melissa has left the staff lounge.

You shrug. “It doesn’t phase me.”

“But you know what she’s saying to you,” the second grade teacher reminds you. “And it’s never nice.”

“I do,” you chuckle. “Listen, I know she’s mean, and she’s rude, but her voice is so lovely. I’d listen to her call me names all day. And I do. Even at home.”

“At home?” Janine gives you a look that tells you she’s clearly confused, but you just shrug her off with a smile. 

“I live like… seven doors down from her. When I go on my walks after school, she’s pulling into her driveway just in time to throw an insult my way. And why should I dwell on it when I know at this point, she doesn’t mean what she’s saying? She just likes speaking her language and having someone who understands what she’s saying.”

And with that, you exit the staff room to head to the bathroom before your whirlwind of an afternoon starts. 

To a degree, you’re right. The fiery Italian second grade teacher loves that she can speak in the language she used to talk in growing up. Someone finally understands what she’s saying. It’s nostalgic. But at this point, Melissa just likes hearing your voice. She likes to see that dumb smirk that you give her as you reveal that you know exactly what she was calling you, before it melts away into that bright smile of yours. Melissa Schemmenti realizes that she just might have some feelings for you.

Once she has that revelation though, she doesn’t change what she does. If anything, she lays them on a little thicker, challenging you to fight her back or tell her she’s gone too far with a few of her insults. But of course, you’re a champion and you can only laugh at some of the insanely creative insults she comes up with in a foreign language.

“You have quite the imagination when it comes to what you choose to say,” you chuckle as she hurls one at you while picking her students up. “I am indeed not… that, but thank you.”

She’s about to say something else while her students wait for her at the corner of the hall, but then Barbara is coming down with her students, and you’re forced to turn your brain back on to work with kindergarteners.

“Well, Miss Schemmenti,” you smirk. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with next.”

“Neither can I, Cagacazzo.” The redhead chuckles.

“Not that either,” you playfully roll your eyes before turning to the kindergarten teacher. “Why, hello Mrs. Howard!”

“Hello dear,” Barbara greets you warmly, a hand stretching out to gently squeeze your arm. “How are you today?”

“I’m wonderful,” you smile. “But I think my day is about to get better, now that I have your kiddos.”

“I do hope they behave for you,” Barb tells you, although she gives a few of her more rowdy students a pointed look.

“They always do,” you assure her sweetly. Only then do you realize that Melissa is still standing there. “Miss Schemmenti? You there?” you tease.

The redhead begins to flounder for words, but Barbara steps in to save her. “Melissa and I were going to chat on our ways back to the classrooms, dear. Don’t mind her.”

In all truth, the second grade teacher just loves how your voice sounds. It’s amazing the way that you can switch from a lower register in your vocals while teasing her and bantering with her before raising your pitch and sounding like an angel to speak with Barbara and her students.

The two head off once you explain to the small class what they’re to do upon entering your classroom and ushering them in. 

The pair is a few paces away when Barbara leans in and quietly whispers, “Girl, you have it bad for Y/N.”

“I do not,” Melissa grumbles her denial as she gestures for her students to continue on down the hallway.

“Don’t act like you don’t,” the kindergarten teacher hums. “I see the way you look at her, mmm, yes.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Not as crazy as you are if you don’t notice that you want to court the music teacher,” Barbara chuckles lowly as she turns into her own classroom.

“Barb!” Melissa rolls her eyes. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, this ain’t Bridgerton!”

“It may not be,” the kindergarten teacher quips. “But I know what my eyes see!”

“Sei pazza,” Melissa calls back as she too enters her room. “Crazy!”

Barbara Howard is a lot of things, but crazy isn’t one of them. And both veteran teachers at the school know it. 

A few weeks pass, and the routine that you find yourself in with the redhead continues on as usual. The routines that you find yourself in with the others soldiers on. Melissa is snarky and hard to read, often times brushing you off. You still allow her to insult you with a smile and a laugh, refuting every name that she calls you. You settle into easy conversation with the others at lunch, always excited to hear what they’re doing in their classrooms that week, or to just converse about whatever could be going on in their minds at that moment.

You find that you quite enjoy having this odd little group as your work family. You’re not quite sure how you managed to weasel yourself into their very tight knit group, but you aren’t complaining. It makes working at Abbott a lot easier than when you were working in a school where homeroom teachers essentially told you that you weren’t a real teacher. How they could treat you like that baffled you then, and it baffles you to this day. You’re just thankful you got out of there and are now being appreciated at your new place of employment.

“Have a nice weekend,” you tell your colleagues as you go to leave the staff room. You smile brightly and wave at them before smirking. “And no, Melissa, I am not whatever you were going to call me this time.”

“Damn, taking my fun away,” the redhead grumbles. “I’ll just save it for when you’re on your walk later.”

You actually don’t see the redhead pulling in while you’re on your daily after school walk to decompress. Her car isn’t in the driveway either, so you know she isn’t home. It’s odd, sure, but once you’ve passed, you don’t think much else of it.

The weekend is here, and you thank goodness for that. The kids have been amped up what with the holiday season about to kick off with Halloween before leading into November and December. 

Once you return from your walk, you’re showered and changed into sweatpants, takeout is ordered and eaten; you’ve allowed yourself to indulge after the hectic week. You have no plans other than to curl up with a glass of wine and a good book. If you drink enough, you may just end up at the keyboard that you have set up, or perhaps you’ll bring out the guitar that sits in the corner of your living room. But you know one thing for sure: you are not leaving the comfort of your own home.

You’re about two-thirds of the way through your small bottle of wine and getting a bit restless laying on the couch with your book. You sigh softly as you put your bookmark in place and stand to head for the keyboard when your phone lights up.

Melissa Schemmenti is calling you? It’s… you glance at the clock on your wall. It’s nearing eleven. Why is she calling you?

“Melissa?” you answer, clearly confused.

“I- I don’t know why I called. Sorry. Have a good night,” the redhead’s voice crackles through the phone. And even though you aren’t with her, and you really have no idea why she’s calling this late at night, you can sense that there’s something off with her. She doesn’t have the same bit that she usually does- she almost sounds… scared?

But before you can react, the call disconnects. You shoot her a text asking if everything is alright, and when five minutes go by without a reply, you run a tired hand over your face before pulling your shoes on.

You’ve never really noticed how eery the area that you reside in is at night. You’re rarely out this late, and when you are, you aren’t walking the streets. Still, you head in the direction of the redhead’s house. It doesn’t take you long. Once you’re at her front door, you take a fortifying breath before knocking gently.

You shouldn’t be shocked when she opens the door wielding a weapon: her precious baseball bat.

“Seriously?” you ask. “I knocked so gently, how could you think someone was trying to hurt you?”

“I never know,” Melissa answers. “I bet you’re an idiota who answers the door without a bat, aren’t you?”

You chuckle softly. “I am not an idiot, but I can say with confidence that I don’t have a baseball bat with me when I open the door.”

“Well, you should,” the redhead counters. “Why are you here?”

“Melissa, you called me at eleven at night sounding terrified and then didn’t answer my text. I do care about you. you know. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” you tell her as she sets down her baseball bat.

Your coworker hums gently. “I thought you were barely tolerating me this whole time. I mean, I’ve seen how you are with the others- and I’m not like that. I can’t be like that, even if I wanted to.”

“I know,” you smile softly. “You’re not easy to know, and you make it hard to like you sometimes. But I’ve always liked a challenge, and sometimes you have to meet people at their own pace.”

“But I didn’t expect you to come all the way out here. I wasn’t thinking; I just woke up scared and calling you was the first thing I could do. You didn’t need to check up on me.” Melissa welcomes you into her house.

“No,” you sigh as you make your way into her house. “But I wanted to. Thank you for letting me in.”

“You’re thanking me for letting you into my house?” the redhead quirks a brow.

You chuckle. “Well, that. But also for letting me in and past your rough exterior. You’re finally starting to meet me halfway.”

The redhead just rolls her eyes. “Just because I called you in a moment of weakness doesn’t mean I don’t still think you’re a barbone.”

“I can’t be a bum,” you smile cheekily. “I have a job, a house, and I came all this way to check on you in the middle of the night.”

“Only an idiota would venture out at eleven at night without a baseball bat,” Melissa counters. “You know I ain’t letting you walk home alone now. So, how about a glass of wine, and maybe a movie before I shove you in my guest room for the night?”

It only occurs to you after you wake up the next morning (on the couch, with Melissa using your chest for a pillow), that she could’ve just driven you home.

Tags

 (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits

[jisungchan]

i'll like you!

pairing/au: yunho and afab/fem reader, nonidol! au general content/summary: unspoken romantic feelings, tension, years of no contact, strained childhood best friends, friendship rekindling, childhood home town, NO race specific descriptors (skin colour, hair texture, etc.), NO body type specific descriptors (size of reader body parts, weight, etc, BUT reader is alluded to being smaller than yunho in terms of general height.) genre: childhood friends to lover's trope, some angst (a stretch tbh), some fluff, smut

⚔︎ sexual content warnings (explicit): bigdick!yunho agenda, raw sex (do NAWT do this), he does pull out (AND THE PEOPLE CHEERED), riding, f!receiving and m!receiving oral, marking and biting, soft dom!yunho, kinda sub!reader, pet names, a cutie lil aftercare moment (always), lmk if i forgot anything :D 

~5k word count nets: @mirohs-aurora-society and @illusionnet

a/n: secret santa event for @mirohs-aurora-society. this piece is dedicated to @kpop---scenarios , i hope you enjoy being wrecked (no pun intended) by yunho! <3

a/n2: i most def forgot to put a page break when i first posted this SORRYYY

the train ride going from the city to your hometown was always a peaceful one. hours sitting in the cushioned seat, stares between the landscape out the window and the book in your hands. sure, in reality the chairs weren’t that comfortable, and the scenery was sometimes dreary and grey, but lucky days like this… it’s perfect. 

even though it’s just a short, few hour trip to your countryside hometown, it’s still a journey you rarely take. with your life finally settling in the city, you hardly find the time to carve out of your busy schedule to visit your family. for the holidays this year though, you managed to take a week off for christmas and new years. this was time for you to fully relax away from all your responsibilities and spend some much needed time with your family back home.

when you finally arrive at the train station, you stand up to stretch your stiff limbs, idly standing to wait for the rush of the passengers to get off the train first. once the train cleared out, you stepped into the aisle, reaching up high to get your luggage store in the overhead. 

before you could even stand on your tip-toes to reach a bit higher, you felt a large presence behind you, grabbing your luggage before you could even react. and just as quickly as they came into your space, they left. 

shaking off the interaction, you wheel your suitcase off the train, stepping down onto the platform to be met with a warm, strong hug from your mother.

“y/n! i’ve missed you so much sweetie.” she says, grabbing your face in both of her hands and giving you a kiss on your head. you cover her hands with your own as you smile at her, 

“i’ve missed you too mom.” 

your mother drives you back home, to your real home. the house you grew up in from when you were born, to when you moved away. the oh-so familiar drive of snowy streets and dim light poles shines in your eyes as you approach your childhood home. you get in, put on some warmer attire, and decide to go for a walk. riding on a train in the same small seat for hours makes you want to reconnect with your limbs. 

you take the same route you used to when you were a child. weaving through the small, quaint neighbourhood you run into some familiar faces, all of which are more than happy to see you. it wasn’t until you reached one house in particular that your body froze up, despite all of your bundled layers. 

outside of the perfect, white picket fence house was none other than the very woman who has ran it, the very woman who raised the kid you used to be inseparable with, the very reason why this was your go-to favourite route. 

“y/n, i didn’t know you were back home too!” she waves for you to come closer as she hurries down her driveway to envelop you in a hug, similar to your own mother’s gestures earlier. 

“hi ma, it’s nice to see you.” you giggle, and then you remember her choice of wording, “wait, what do you meant, ‘too’?” 

“oh, you didn’t know? yunho just got back home today too! he went out somewhere with his father, he should be back soon.” she smiles, and right on time, the old 1950s cadillac pulls into the driveway as ma pulls you closer toward the house. 

“why don’t you come in and have some tea? we can all catch up!” she says excitedly, then rushing to go greet her soon, leaving you with no time to deny her offer. 

and there steps out yunho, your childhood best friend. the kid who taught you how to ride a bike, then a skateboard, then drive a car, likewise the kid who would make fun of you for being terrified of all three of those activities. also the same kid who dragged you out of the house at 2am to satiate his foodie cravings. while there are many fond memories of your friendship, there are also some more unpleasant ones. 

before you could think further about your history with yunho, the very man was standing right in front of you. you quickly greeted his father as he and ma went into their house, leaving you and yunho to bask in the awkwardness in the air.

“y/n…”

“yunho…” 

all it took was a strained muttering of each other’s names for the fog of tension to strangle around your throat, feeling the pressure of what to say next heavy on your chest. your mouth opened again to speak, but nothing came out. it seemed even yunho was speechless, which itself was a rare occurrence. 

“ma invited me in for tea.”

“is that so?” he questioned, looking you in the eye with a million and one thoughts in his mind, many of them questions unanswered. 

“yeah, can you just– can you just tell her i’m tired? that i’m heading home?” you pleaded, exhaustion becoming apparent on your face as your features sunk. the exhaustion was a mental one though, just a few minutes back in yunho’s presence and feelings you buried years ago are being unwillingly dug up from the depths of your heart. 

“no.”

“no…?” you confusingly utter back, a bit startled at his brash response. for all the years you’ve known yunho, you have never known him to be unmoving, even toward those who may have deserved it. you stutter over your next words, letters strung together to bind an incomprehensible sentence of mashed up words. this dazed thinking around him started once your friendship dwindled down into missed calls and hurried ‘heys,’ no longer sharing that same excitement around each other as once was. 

“just come in, y/n. don’t make things weird, okay? it’ll be fine.” and so you went, yunho ushered you to go in first as you made the stroll to his porch. the same decorations hung up from all those years ago, back when the world seemed so big. 

walking into the home also felt the same, the jeong’s signature house scent of warm sandalwood and vanilla hit your nostrils, as well as the aroma of freshly brewed tea sitting at the kitchen table. shimmying out of your shoes and bundles of warmth, yunho graciously took your coat and scarf to hang them on the rack. when you turned to start walking toward the table, you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders, forearm firmly resting on your collarbones, holding you in pace. honestly, he could have just brushed his fingertips along your arm, and you would have stopped dead in your tracks. 

frozen in place, you feel the blush rise up your body, spreading across your cheeks in a pinkish hue. the way he stills behind you feels eerily familiar, but when he places his hand atop of your head to pull your hair off, all tangible thoughts leave your mind. and when he smooths out your hair from your hat, it takes everything in you to keep a straight face as his parents are in front of you, mindlessly chatting away. finally, he releases you, and only when he comes from around you to loop his hand around your wrist do you move, pulling you to take a seat at the table. 

“i made your favourite tea, y/n! i remember how much you loved it, and i would make a fresh pot every time you came over.” ma giggles as she kindly pours the steeped hot water into your teacup, the same one which has been delegated as yours. 

“thank you, ma. it’s even better than i remember.” you smile as you sip the warm-hot tea, letting the mixture coat your throat in a soothing stream. his parents engaged you in a simple conversation, asking what you’ve been up to, your job, where you’re staying, and all of the other catch up questions. 

some time passes by, tea is long gone, and yunho has barely spoken a word. it’s mostly you and his parents conversing back and forth, with him sitting back and observing. as you’re busy in the mixed feeling of the nostalgia of your childhood and the excitement of your new life, yunho is stuck in the past. his own mind is filled with thoughts of you when you both were young, carefree, and only focused on the feeling of sneaking out late to go on a drive. yunho still remembers the way your hair would flow in the wind when you would stick your head out the window. you let the breeze flutter your eyelashes like butterflies and hair cascade back even more beautifully than a waterfall, even all the way back then yunho saw you as his world. in his eyes, you were so perfect that even god up above took inspiration from your beauty, creating the world from your very image. nothing or no one can compare to you, especially now as you sit, catching up with his parents as if they were your own, which they practically were. he adored the way his mother doted on you, and how his father saw you as the daughter he never had. his whole life was in front of him, and he wanted to take it all in to never forget it. he hasn’t seen you in years, who’s to say the next time you’ll sit down in his home, let alone see you again?

losing track of even more time, you glance down at your watch to see the time has quickly passed. look out the front room window, you see the night has turned pitch black. you get up, mentioning how you better get home before it gets too late and your mother worries too much. his parents stand with you, walking you toward the food as you put your belongings back on, preparing yourself for the still and chill of the late, snowy night. 

“yunho, walk her home! it’s too late for a lady to walk by herself!” ma says, pushing yunho by his shoes, ushering them to quickly put them on to get you home. all that comes from him is a small chuckle and an “okay, mom,” completed with a playful eye roll. after your final goodbyes to his parents, along with a (forced) promise to see them again before you go back to the city, you and yunho embark on your 30 minute walk back to your home. 

for the first 15 minutes, there was silence. not a word had been spoken directly to each other since you first saw him in his driveway. at this point in the walk, you pass by a convenience store, you tug on yunho’s sleeve and motion toward the store. you both turn to walk into the shop, still silent, enveloped in a stiff warmth and fluorescent lighting. 

you head in and grab some of your favourite snacks, making sure at least one is hot to munch on for the rest of the way back home. you meet back up with yunho at the register, where he wordlessly pays for your snacks. you thank him as you both take a seat at the bench in the front of the store, opening the bag to eat. 

all that could be heard was the crunches and swallows from the break, you and yunho are separated by the ‘thank you’ bag between you two on the bench. eventually, you decide to break the silence. 

“yunho, what have you been up to?” albeit, you were a bit nervous asking, he has barely spoken to you, but it’s also been years since your last encounter, and you can’t really blame him for acting a bit distant, especially since you are too. 

back before you left, your friendship with yunho was already near its end. the future you both always dreamed of for yourselves was coming near, and so it lessened the time you spent together. when you were kids, the world was nothing but your toy to play with, you both would do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted, with no thoughts of what the next day would bring. with age though, comes time to think a bit more about your future. as things in each of your personal lives got more serious, your bonding time took a huge hit as there was just not enough time in a day. what yunho didn’t know was your underdeveloped feelings for him. it wasn’t until you moved away when you realised that everything you did together in your mind was romantic masked as platonic. the way you would go out of your way to include him in everything, even your own celebrations did not feel complete without him by your side. the way you immediately felt at ease near him, whenever you had a tough day, you could count on going over to yunho’s to lay on the couch in his basement, feeling the tension leave your body the moment you felt his arms around you. the way when he got his first girlfriend you had an overwhelming sense of dread and jealousy, feelings you thought were just because you didn’t want to be seen as the stereotypical girl best friend in love with her best friend. 

well, his relationship with her didn’t last long. you weren’t sure why, but you didn’t question it when yunho called you over to hang out as soon as they broke up. 

so to go from unplanned hangouts to barely being able to spend 15 minutes alone together is a big difference, and both of you were feeling the weight of it. 

“i moved to the city, got into the career field i always dreamed of, got my own place, my own car. living the dream i guess you could say.” he gives a half-assed smile as he looks down at his hands. to anyone else, he’s right that he’s ‘living the dream,’ but you know it’s far from what he wanted when he was younger. 

“you don’t sound too sure, it’s okay to still want more, or even something different.” you offer as a small piece of condolence. 

“hah, it’s okay… i’ll be complete soon now.” he finishes his sentence as he looks up from his hands. his eyes want to meet yours, but he can’t bring himself to do it. you both get up, stuffing the plastic bag with the wrappers and leftovers from your small snack. the rest of the way back to your place is still quiet, but the comfortable silence you once shared before the reality of the world settled in. it was nice to be back in yunho’s presence, and you could have sworn he’s walking a bit closer next to you.

finally arriving at your own driveway, yunho stands at the edge, seemingly waiting for you to get in the house before he walks off back to his own. 

“come in, i’m sure you’re hungry.” you smile as you tug his arm in a similar way to how he looped his hand around your wrist, dragging him to your front door.

after getting in and removing your outerwear, you find a note at the kitchen counter. 

“i had to run out for a bit to pick up some stuff for your stay. i’ll be gone for a few hours, there’s plenty in the fridge to make yourself something to eat! love, mom.” 

you chuckle as you show yunho the paper, he sits down on a stool opposite of you. 

you start rummaging through the fridge and pantry, eventually finding all the right ingredients to make yunho’s favourite dish. 

“how about that, remember how you used to eat an entire pot of this?” you laugh, reminiscing about him forcing you to make this meal on cold nights like this. 

“yes, and now i can’t wait to do it again.” he laughs back, getting up to help you in the kitchen. he goes to the sink, rolling up his sleeves to wash his hands. you can’t help but watch as the water flows down his palms, dripping off the tips of his fingers. he turns to dry his hands as soon as you snap your head the other direction, suddenly very interested in the produce in front of you.

the faint sound of music playing from a record player fills the gaps between your banter and the chops and plops of cooking. it doesn’t take long before everything is done, and all that is left is to let the meal simmer for a bit in the oversized pot. you tell yunho you’ll be back, deciding to run into your room to change as you’re still in your travel clothes. 

yunho makes himself busy in the kitchen, he hears the shower start and finally settles on sitting at the couch. on the coffee table in front of him lies a few photo albums, and he flips through them. among the family photos are countless with him in them. every birthday party, he was right next to you as you blew the candles out your cake. when you got the decision email from your dream school, which you got a scholarship to, he was right next to you, his hand over yours on the mouse. when your favourite aunt got married and he went as your date, your attire matching as you danced together on the dance floor. every moment of your life where he didn’t belong, you made him belong. 

back in your room, you’re still draped in a towel as you search through your drawers to find some comfy clothes to wear. you’re dressed in your underwear, preparing to put on some lotion, when you hear a knock at the door that startles you, causing you to drop the jar in your hands onto the floor. then, yunho bursts through the door. 

“are you okay?” he asks worriedly, scanning around the room until his vision lands upon you, in just your underwear sitting on the foot of your bed. he darts his eyes downward, now landing on the jar of lotion, laughing as he puts it together that he was worried over just a jar of lotion.

he gets down on one knee before you, gently placing your leg atop his thigh. he picks up the jar to take a scoop out and spread it over your shin, massaging the shea butter into your freshly showered skin. 

you stammer, again trying to conform sounds into an understandable sentence, but nothing comes out. this time, yunho takes note of your speechlessness. 

“it’s okay, this is the least i can do for you.” 

he finishes moisturising your right leg, and switches its place with your left leg, similarly working the moisture in. as he reaches up toward your upper thigh, it’s ever so prevalent on your body the toll it's taking from him being so close to you, especially in your current state. 

“you know, i’ve been meaning to apologise to you for so long now…” he sighs, now. he’s massaging both of your thighs as he speaks to you. 

“for what?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“shhh, it’s okay. just let me talk to you.” and you don’t need to be told again, so you let him speak his mind.

“i’m sorry for not reaching out to you all these years. i’m sorry for letting our friendship go when i could have saved it. and i’m most sorry for not making you my first girlfriend.” his words are filled with genuine angst, but his eyes can’t help but swirl with something you can’t quite decipher. 

“it’s okay, yunho, but i’m not quite sure what you mean.” this time when you speak to him, he looks up to meet you in the eyes. and now, you can clearly see how he is feeling:

he’s yearning.

you know yunho inside and out, you have been able to read him like a book for your entire life. you know what he looks like when he’s feeling upset, angry, even blissful. however, you have never seen him with such a deep feeling of want and desire, let alone for someone, especially that someone being you. 

“all these years, all those years, i dreamed about you being by my side.” he gets up from his knees, hovering over you before leaning back down to trap you between his arms. 

he crawls the both of you further back onto the bed as he continues to express his feelings.

“earlier, when you asked me about my life?” you nod, watching as his breath grows heavier, his silver cross dangling above your face. “with you by my side, i’ll be complete, my ultimate dream will come true.” 

you shudder as his sudden and heavy confession settles into your mind. all these years, he’s felt the same as you, if not even stronger. all the past few years of yunho’s absence is starting to dissolve, and you’re brought back to your younger self who was in love with him, she still lives inside you as the feelings are lit aflame. 

“please, y/n, tell me you love me too.” he pleads, his face now mere inches above yours, you see his eyebrows lightly furrowed and the look of pure desperation on his face. 

“i’ve loved you since then, and i’ll love you forever.”

that was all yunho needed to hear before finally closing the gap between your lips and his. all the daydreaming about how his lips would feel are put to shame as you now have the real thing. he takes one of his hands to hold your cheek, his large hand covering the entire length of your face. his kiss is littered with little nips and tongues rushing to explore each other. you feel his weight shift as he places a knee between your legs, pressing against the seat of your underwear. you gasp slightly as he applies even more pressure, grinding small movements making you squirm. he leans back from the kiss to swipe your bruised lips with his thumb, pushing it past your slightly parted lips. you circle around his thumb as he keeps pushing it in further as you suck and lick at it playfully. he watches your movements with a soft groan, holding himself back for the moment being. 

but, feeling as inpatient as you were, you push his face back into yours as you swat his hand away, going back to an even more heated makeout session. you arch your back further into his touch, allowing him to reach behind you to unclip your bra. the once very calculated yunho turns inpatient himself, moving his knee back and flipping your positions. you find yourself sat on top of his lap, quickly feeling his hardon pressed perfectly between your folds. you lean forward to kiss him again, this time reaching your hands down his shirt to lift it off him, only taking a brief second to go back to tasting his lips. your nails run up and down his torso, lightly scratching his chest and abs as you wander further down to the button of his jeans. as you unzip his pants, his hands go under your panties to feel your hips, showing his strength as it only takes him a light tug to rip your underwear in half, he throws them off to the side to leave you completely bare on top of him. 

he finally gets hold of his own waistband, he helps you pull his jeans and boxers down in one go as he dick springs up to slap against his stomach. he’s sat up against the headboard, hands lazily rubbing your hips and pulling them forward. his lips are swollen and his breath pushed through his parted lips. his eyes are heavy with desire, hair messily tousled across his forehead. you take in this sight before you, one you could have only imagined in your wildest dreams. but now, those dreams are becoming a reality. 

you sit up higher on your knees, grabbing yunho’s throbbing red-hot erection and hovering over it. you slowly start to sink down, body filled with excitement and a bit of nervousness. yunho lets you go at your own pace, allowing you to go at your own pace and not rush you. eventually, you bottom out, leaning forward to the crook of his neck to breathe properly. he rubs your back and soothes your breathing.

“you’re doing so–hah–so good.” he tells you, but you can feel him starting to get antsy, and so are you. 

you sit back up, placing your hands on his shoulders as you start to slowly bounce up and down on his cock, feeling his long shaft and veins drag up and down your walls. you feel the tip gently graze and poke every time you sink down further and further. getting used to the initial stretch, you start to move a little quicker, and are motivated by the grunts coming from yunho underneath you. 

“fuck, y/n, just like that.” he groans out, his hands on your hips now bouncing you faster and faster and faster. 

“yu, you’re so big.” you cry out, head falling in his chest. he takes control again and starts thrusting up into you. all you can hear is the slapping of your skin together and the squelch coming from your arousal mixing. you start to clench as you feel his movements picking up speed and force. 

“you feel so good, baby, better than i ever imagined.” you moan as he punctuates the remark with an especially hard thrust up, making you choke out on your words. 

you sit back up again and start to match his motions, adding in small grinds in desperation to feel some friction on your clit. seeing your efforts, yunho moves one of his hands to it, circling in firm shapes to expedite your pleasure. he leans up to kiss love bites all over your neck, shoulders, and chest. marking you blue and purple for people to see for days. 

“you’re mine, y/n. you-you know that right? i can’t let you go again.” yunho almost whimpers out. you can hear the yearning in his voice, and it makes you even wetter to see the man himself so desperate for you.

all you can manage to do is nod your head rapidly as you feel your own release nearing. the way he’s moving so constantly with both his hands and his dick, along with his newly confessed feelings still weighing on your mind, makes your head spin and clit throb. 

“need to feel you cum around me, can you do that for me? i’ve waited so long, wanna feel that pretty pussy when she cums baby.” your eyes hit the back of your skull when the right combination of his motion, friction, and words hit you. you clench around him and feel a gush of your arousal come out. you moan out as your release hits you, riding out your orgasm as yunho uses all his strength to hold back.

though it hasn’t been long for either of you, all the years of longing and hidden feelings make the experience ten times more intense. 

when you’ve come down, and just as he’s close, yunho pulls you off of him, even though your mind is clouded with lust, he still has some sense of reality as he tries to finish himself off. you replace his hands with your own, swatting them away as you stroke his length. you spit on the head, watching it mix with his precum and ooze out down his shaft. you bury your head down to give kitten licks at the slit, making him hiss as he tangles his hands in your hair. you let him control your head movements as you feel him push down down down. 

his tip pokes at the back of your throat as you’re determined to take all of him. he doesn’t really give you much choice in the matter as he’s so caught up in the warmth of your mouth to think about anything else. you run your hands back up his abs and caress his stomach as you feel his ragged breathing.

“fuckfuckfuck,” was all the warning yunho gave you before finally releasing in your mouth. you feel his seed sticky down your throat, and as you start to pull him out he sputters more in your mouth. you stick your tongue out and slap the tip against it, he has a few more pumps spread across your lips as he finally calms down. you lick your lips clean and swallow the rest in your mouth, albeit a little sore. 

yunho is quick to recover, laying you back down on the bed, and crawling down between your legs. 

“let me return the favour, pretty.” he dives between your legs with full force. he wastes no time on teasing as he indulges in the taste of you. he tongue moves from licking your clit to prodding at your clenching hole. his lips wrap around your throbbing bud in haste as he sucks and nibbles lightly. 

you look down just as he takes his hand to join his mouth. he expertly pushes two fingers in, immediately causing you to moan out as you feel him all over. he takes his free hand to push your hips down, locking you down on the bed. 

his lips continue to lick up everything you have to offer, and again it does not take you long to have your second orgasm of the night.

yunho climbs in bed and pulls you onto his chest, and again, no words are spoken, none need to be. everything which has been bubbling up for your entire lives has been dealt with now. you both were once kids with no thoughts for the future, but for the first time since you have met, you anticipate tomorrow.

[rhiannonsknife]

— BUT I’M A CHEERLEADER (part 1)

— summary: you’re still getting over your past situationship when you meet nat scatorccio.

— warnings: drinking/alcohol. implied period typical homophobia. based on this request.

the music pounds through the walls of the house, every beat rattling through your skull and adding to the dizziness you’re already feeling. you’re perched on the edge of the bathtub, clutching a half-empty red cup you’ve forgotten about. the drink has long since lost its taste, and the buzz you’d been riding earlier is wearing off in the worst possible way.

tears fall, slow and relentless, even as you try to force them back. it’s pathetic, you know it is as you look at the mascara smeared face that greets you in the reflection of the mirror ahead.

none of this was supposed to happen. you weren’t supposed to end up here, locked in a bathroom at some stupid party, crying over someone who never cared enough to give you what you wanted. the same old story. you saw it coming, but that doesn’t make it hurt less. it doesn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.

you run a shaky hand through your hair and wipe at your burning eyes, the red cup slipping slightly as you press it between your palms. it was supposed to be different this time, not feel like the same heartbreak you’ve lived through so many times before. she was different. or at least, you thought she was. that’s what you kept telling yourself while you fell for the girl who promised she was ready to be with you, who made all the right moves, said all the right things.

but when it came down to it, she couldn’t even look you in the eye as you tried to talk about it a couple of weeks ago. all she could do was calling things ‘complicated’ and saying that maybe she wasn’t ready for something real. no apology. no real excuse. and now here she is at the same party, dancing with some guy in a way she never would have with you, leaving you no choice but to watch from across the room.

the bathroom door creaks open suddenly, and you quickly wipe at your face, trying to compose yourself. the last thing you need is for somebody to walk in on one of the cheerleaders looking like this. but it’s too late.

“occupied,” you mumble.

“yeah, no shit,” a dry voice responds

you look up, surprised to see one of the yellowjackets standing against the doorframe. you know her, obviously, if only from a distance, from watching games from the sidelines after performing: natalie scatorccio. she’s the one with the shaggy, bleach blonde hair and that perpetually bored look in her eyes, the one who always wears vintage band tees and a leather jacket if she’s not in her soccer jersey number 7.

“sorry,” you mumble, trying to sound like you’re not completely falling apart. “i’ll leave,”

natalie doesn’t move. she crosses her arms and leans against the wall, her smirk softening. “relax,” she says. “not like i’m dying to hang out with the drunk assholes out there.”

you blink at her, caught off guard. “then why are you here?”

she shrugs, stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. “needed a break. but you-“ her eyes flick to your tear-streaked cheeks. “-are you okay?”

“do i look okay?” you snap, voice wobbling.

natalie raises her hands in mock surrender. “fair enough. want to talk about it, or should i leave you to…whatever this is?”

you hesitate, staring down at your cup. she’s a stranger, but something about her feels steady, like she’s not here to judge or pry. before you know it, the words are tumbling out.

“i hooked up with someone. someone i really liked. and they…didn’t feel the same way,”

natalie hums, leaning back against the counter. “cheerleader, right?”

“uh, yeah. how’d you know?”

her grin is small, knowing. “lucky guess,” she gestures vaguely toward your perfect ponytail, the neatly pressed outfit you're wearing (or what's left of it after the night's events). "also, your whole squad has that...same vibe, you know?"

“a vibe?” you echo, frowning.

“you know.” she shrugs. “acting like you’ve got it all together, even when you’re crying in a bathroom…”

you bristle slightly. “well, clearly, i don’t,”

“clearly,” she says, with a smirk that’s just shy of teasing. then, more seriously: “so, what happened?”

you hesitate, then sigh. “i thought we had something. but they didn’t see it that way. basically said i was imagining things!”

natalie tilts her head. “cheerleader too?”

her tone is careful, and the question catches you off guard, though you don't bother denying it. with the amount of cheap liquor you've had, there’s no point in trying to lie. besides, she doesn't strike you as the type to judge, considering the fact that she was the one to bring it up.

“yeah,”

she lets out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “figures. you guys are always so tangled up together,”

you glance up at her, defensive. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it’s just…” she shrugs. “predictable. all sunshine and pom-poms until someone gets stabbed in the back!”

“not all of us are like that,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“oh, yeah?” she quirks an eyebrow. “then why are you in here crying?”

her bluntness stings, but it cuts through the fog in your head. at least she's not sugarcoating things just to make you feel better. you exhale sharply, and before you can stop yourself, you’re speaking again. “because i thought she actually cared. i thought…” you trail off, shaking your head.

natalie’s expression shifts slightly, something softer slipping through as she shoves her hands into her pockets. “people suck,” she says simply.

you laugh weakly, despite yourself. “yeah. they really do!”

the room falls into silence again, but it’s not uncomfortable. you feel lighter, somehow, like just talking to her has already taken some of the weight off your chest. for the first time tonight, you feel like you can breathe again.

natalie shifts, standing upright and jerking her chin toward the door. “c’mon. this party fucking sucks anyway. let’s get out of here!”

you hesitate, glancing toward the door. “what, you’re just gonna leave?”

she shrugs, her hands still tucked in her pockets. “what’s the point of staying? and let me guess: you’re not exactly dying to run into her again tonight either?”

your stomach twists at the thought, and you shake your head. “no. definitely not!”

“exactly,” natalie says, stepping away from the wall. “so let’s bail. the night’s already shitty, might as well make it less shitty!”

“you want me to come with you?”

she smirks faintly. “you want to stay here crying in the bathroom?”

you let out a soft laugh despite yourself. “alright, fair point”

natalie gestures toward the door. “come on. i know a spot. it’s better than this place, anyway,”

‘better than this place’ isn’t exactly a high bar, but something about the way she says it makes you trust her. you nod, leaving your cup on the counter. “alright. lead the way!”

natalie doesn’t say anything else, just pushes open the bathroom door and leads you through the party. the noise and chaos feel even more overwhelming after the relative quiet, but she moves through it carelessly. you follow her out to the driveway, where her beat-up car sits under a flickering streetlight.

“get in” she says, jerking her head towards the passenger side.

you hesitate for a moment before climbing in. the interior is as unpolished as you’d expect, the faint smell of cigarette smoke lingering in the air. natalie slides into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut and cranking the engine to life.

“where are we going?” you ask as she starts driving off.

“somewhere quiet,” she says simply, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

fifteen minutes later, you’re parked at a deserted overlook just outside town. only there, natalie cuts the ignition and leans back, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her jacket.

“want one?” she asks, holding it out to you.

you shake your head. “not my thing”

“suit yourself.” natalie lights one up, the orange glow illuminating her face in the otherwise dark space. for a while, neither of you says anything, the silence surprisingly comfortable.

“so,” natalie starts, breaking the quiet. “you really liked this girl, huh?”

you sigh, leaning your head back against the seat. “yeah. i thought…i don’t know, i thought we had something!”

“maybe she’s just an idiot,” she offers, her voice dry though not unkind. “her loss, right?”

you glance at her, watching the way her face lights up from the faint glow of her cigarette. “what about you, natalie? ever had…dunno, someone break your heart?”

she winces playfully at the name. “natalie? god, no one calls me that. it’s just nat!”

“nat,” you repeat. “alright, nat, what about you then?

she exhales a stream of smoke, her gaze fixed on the horizon through the window shield. “not really,” she says after a pause. “i’ve had my fair share of bullshit. people thinking they can get close, but only on their terms,”

“that sounds…” you trail off, searching for the right word.

“exhausting?” nat supplies, flicking ash out the window. “yeah, it is.”

familiar, is what you were going for, but you suppose ‘exhausting’ will do. you study her for a moment, the sharp angles of her face in the dimly lit space. “you’re not what i expected, you know?”

nat glances sideways at you. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

you shrug, leaning back against the headrest. “i don’t know. i see you at school sometimes…and with the whole soccer thing, i guess i just figured you’d be different,”

“different how?” she presses, curiosity piqued.

“i don’t know,” you hesitate, searching for the right words. “the team’s such a big deal. everyone’s always talking about the yellowjackets since you guys won nationals,”

nat lets out a dry laugh, taking another drag of her cigarette.

“trust me, we’re just a bunch of idiots kicking a ball around. nothing special”

“you’re good, though,” you counter. “regionals last year? that goal you scored? pretty badass!”

“you were there?”

“i’m a cheerleader, remember? i’m at all the games. you don’t really notice us, though, do you?”

“not my thing,” she says with a grimace. “but, uh, thanks. i guess,”

the conversation continues, ebbing and flowing with surprising ease. turns out that nat scatorccio is not at all how you had expected her to be.

eventually, as she runs out of cigarettes to smoke, the cold starts to seep in, and you shiver. nat notices, shrugging off her leather jacket and holding it out to you.

“here,” she says. “you’re gonna freeze to death!”

you blink at her, surprised. a part of you wants to argue, but the goosebumps on your arms speak volumes. “are you sure? won’t you be cold?”

“i’ll survive,” she says, rolling her eyes. “just take it!”

you do, slipping it on quickly. it’s oversized on you, the sleeves hanging past your hands, and smells faintly of smoke. it’s warm, at least, and you murmur “thanks” as your finger clutch at the fabric.

“don’t mention it,” she replies, stubbing out her cigarette. “c’mon, let’s get you home before someone calls the cops on me for kidnapping a cheerleader”

you laugh, the tension easing from your chest as she starts the car and pulls back onto the road, letting you navigate the route to your house.

the drive is quieter this time, the party and all your earlier heartbreak feeling strangely far away. nat drums her fingers on the steering wheel in time with a song playing faintly on the radio.

when she stops in front of your house, you hesitate for a moment before opening the door. “thanks for tonight,” you say, your voice softer than you mean it to be.

she shrugs, her gaze flicking toward you. “don’t overthink it, alright? i just…didn’t want you crying in some gross bathroom all night,”

“well, i appreciate it. see you around?”

“maybe,” she says, a half-smile on her face as you climb out of the car and close the door behind you.

you stand on your front porch for a long moment, watching her tail lights disappear into the night. only then, when theres only the pitch black darkness of the street left ahead of you and nat’s car is long gone, you make your way inside.

it isn’t until you’re curled up in the comfort bed that you notice it: nat’s leather jacket is still wrapped snugly around your shoulders. you hadn’t even thought to take it off, too distracted by the events of the night. now, as you bury your face into the worn leather, you can’t help but smile as you inhale what is a mixture of the scent of her cologne and cigarettes.

the thought makes you grin despite yourself, and you let the warmth of the jacket lull you to sleep, unbothered by the fact that you’re still in a full face of makeup and the clothes you wore to the party.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re already thinking about how to return it, though the idea of seeing her again doesn’t feel like a chore at all.

the gym is still buzzing with energy, the echoes of the rally lingering in the air. you're perched on the bleachers, fiddling with the hem of your cheer skirt as the crowd begins to disperse.

the yellowjackets are clustered near the far corner, laughing and shoving at each other while coach martinez barks something about practice tomorrow that you can understand clearly even from a distance and amongst the giggles of the other cheerleaders.

your eyes, however, are locked on one player only.

she's leaning against the wall, arms crossed, her signature smirk firmly in place as she banters with lottie. she doesn't seem to notice you staring. if she does, she doesn't let on. her hair is messy, sweaty strands sticking to her neck, and there's a small smear of dirt on her cheek that she clearly doesn't care enough about to wipe away.

the ache in your chest is as confusing as it is frustrating. you're not supposed to feel this way about her, of all people. not after how your recent situationship ended. you'd made the stubborn promise to yourself hat you would not end up falling for another girl in the foreseeable future. and yet, here you are, watching nat scatorccio from afar.

"hey"

the voice beside you makes you jump, and you whip around to find her -the girl you'd been seeing, or whatever you'd been doing-hovering uncertainly at your side. only yesterday, the sight would've made your heart ache. now, it just annoys you that she's interrupted your people (nat) watching.

"uh, hi," you mumble, glancing back at nat almost instinctively. the girl notices, following your gaze. "since when do you care about soccer?"

"what? i don't, i wasn't-" you cut yourself off, realizing how pointless it is to lie. "i was just…..zoning out,"

"sure," she says, her tone clipped. she shifts awkwardly, crossing her arms. "look, about the other night-"

whatever she's saying is drowned out by your own thoughts: nat's laughing at something van said, her smile wide and unrestrained. it's different from the smirk she usually wears. it's softer, more real somehow, and your heart stumbles stupidly in your chest.

"are you even listening to me?" she suddenly asks sharply, pulling your attention back to your side of the gym.

you blink, caught off guard. "sorry, what?"

she rolls her eyes, clearly exasperated. "forget it. i just thought we should talk about...whatever this is. or was!"

you don't want to talk, especially not to her. she's made her stance clear. still, you offer: "yeah, no, you're right. we should. just... maybe later?"

she scoffs, throwing up her hands. "whatever. good talk!" you don't even have the energy to stop her as she stalks off, the sound of her sneakers echoing sharply in the nearly empty gym. your gaze drifts back to nat, then, and you catch her glancing your way. your breath catches, the conversation instantly forgotten, but she looks away before you can tell whether she actually noticed you, or if it was just wishful thinking.

even the school parking lot is alive with post-rally energy by the time you and the rest of the cheer squad has made it out of the locker rooms and you're no longer in the tight outfit.

the yellowjackets are lounging around their cars, hard to miss when they're still in their jerseys. you spot nat leaning against her car, a bright yellow number 7 on her chest and a cigarette dangling lazily between her fingers. she's clearly disinterested in whatever story misty is animatedly telling beside her.

your heart thuds uncomfortably as you approach, clutching the leather jacket in your hands. the nerves aren't new, you've felt them every time you've seen her since that night, but this time, it's worse: she's with her teammates, and they're all staring at you the moment you come into view.

"hey," you call out, offering a small wave. "i, uh...i have something that's yours?"

nat's eyes narrow slightly before flicking to the jacket in your hands.

“oh my god, nat,” taissa teases, leaning casually against van's shoulder. "didn't know you were in the habit of lending your stuff to cheerleaders!"

she exhales a puff of smoke, side-eyeing tai. “shut up!”

you bite your lip, stepping closer. “here. thanks for letting me borrow it!” you hold out the jacket, trying to keep your voice steady with the whole team watching the exchange.

nat takes another drag from her cigarette, letting the silence hang for just a beat too long, before, finally, taking the jacket from your hands. “no problem,”

van raises an eyebrow, smirking the exact same way taissa is.

“well, this is new. didn't know you two were friends...?”

“we're not,” nat says quickly, her tone defensive. you glance at her, the sting of her words hitting sharper than you expect.

“but she's nice,” misty chimes in, clearly delighted by the interaction. “and really good at flips! i saw you at the rally. you did that back handspring thing-“

“misty, not now,” lottie interrupts, shaking her head.

“anyway,” you say, forcing a smile despite the awkward tension.

“thanks again, nat. and...see you around…?”

nat shrugs on the jacket. “thanks, i guess,” she mutters, not meeting your eyes.

“uh, no,” you say, catching her off guard. “i'm thanking you. for, you know...saving my ass the other night...?”

nat quirks a brow at you, clearly unimpressed. “right. well, you already said that. so, we're good!” she shifts on her feet, clearly itching to leave. “see you around, cheerleader!”

and with that, she's gone, her boots scuffing against the asphalt as she falls into step with taissa and van.

turns out you do see nat around, more often than she seems to like.

the first time you spot her in the halls, it's almost comical how badly you fail at playing it cool. nat's leaning against a locker, her bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, chatting with somebody you don't recognize. you walk past and try to keep your head down, but you can't resist glancing over at the last second.

unfortunately, nat very much notices: she smirks, raising an eyebrow in what you can only assume is amusement at your awkwardness. “hey, cheerleader,” she calls, her voice echoing in the hall.

“uh, hi!” you manage, voice coming out brighter than intended. the person by her side snickers, but nat doesn't say anything else, and you slink away, your face burning.

the second time, you're determined to do better.

you catch her near the parking lot, hanging around with a group of guys you've never seen around before. she's got a bottle in a paper bag, her posture lazy and self-assured, and for a moment, you stop in your tracks, hesitant. but then you remember her kindness at the party, and you square your shoulders. the least you can do is thank her properly.

“hey, natalie,” you call as you approach, and she glances over, her expression one of confusion before recognition flashes over her features.

“it's nat,” she corrects automatically, taking a swig from the bottle.

“what do you want?”

you dig into your pocket and pull out the scrap of paper, you'd prepared in class, holding it out to her. “here!”

she takes it, frowning. “what's this?”

“my number,” you say, surprising even yourself with how steady your voice is.

nat snorts. “yeah, no thanks. not really my thing.”

“no, not like that!” you insist quickly, though your face warms. “it's just...if you ever want to talk, or hang out, or whatever. i still owe you for that night, remember?”

her eyes narrow as she studies you, and for a moment, you're sure she's going to crumple the paper and toss it. but instead, she tucks it into her jacket pocket with a shrug. you consider it a small win when you leave her to it.

the third time you try your luck with nat, it's after school. nat's sitting on the steps outside, looking a little less put-together than usual: her hair's messier, her leather jacket slightly crinkled, and she's perched on the edge of a concrete step, surrounded by a few other yellowjackets.

you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot, wondering if you should just let it go for today. but then you remember the way she looked at you the first time you crossed paths after the party, how her gaze softened just a little and how willing to hold nat had been, and it pushes you forward.

you walk up to her, purposefully ignoring the eyes of the other yellowjackets, but determined to try anyway.

“hey,” you say, a little unsure.

nat looks up at you then, her eyes calculating as she takes in your approach. for a moment, she doesn't say anything, just watching you with a furrowed brow. you can feel the familiar rush of nerves, but you push through it anyway.

“do you have a minute?” you ask, trying to sound casual. her lips twitch in what might be the beginning of a smirk, but she doesn't move. “no cheerleading practice today?”

you blink in surprise until you remember: she knows. of course she knows. everyone knows. it's hard to miss you bouncing around in that uniform, especially when you're standing next to your teammates, who always make a point of making everything so damn loud.

“no, not today,” you reply, glancing down at your shoes. “i...thought i'd take a break. come see what you're up to...?”

she doesn't immediately respond, but her eyes flick to the group of yellowjackets gathered around her, clearly sensing that they're all watching in anticipation. nat takes a long drag from her cigarette before replying in her usual dry tone. “why are you here, cheerleader? got another number for me to ignore?”

you almost laugh: the way she says it isn't cruel or mean, but teasing instead.

“no,” you say, shaking your head. “just wanted to check in. i haven't really heard from you since that night. thought i’d see if you were still alive!” nat doesn't seem fazed by the comment. she just exhales a puff of smoke before she replies: “i'm fine,”

you bite your lip but continue, “so you're not mad at me for, you know, giving you my number? for-“

“i'm not mad,” nat interjects. “just don't expect me to be...all friendly, alright?”

you feel a flash of disappointment, but try not to show it. instead, you nod, aiming for a smile but landing more on an awkward grimace. “fair enough. just thought i'd try, you know?”

for a moment, nat just looks at you, her expression unreadable. you're about to turn away, thinking you've pushed too much, when she suddenly speaks again. “you're persistent, i'll give you that,”

you turn back, blinking in surprise.

“maybe it's because i don't like giving up," you reply, your heart skipping a beat. "i really do owe you for what happened that night.”

she shrugs, the motion almost lazy. “you don't have to keep thanking me,”

“i know” you tell her. “but if you ever want to grab a coffee or something, i mean..i'll be around”

just when you think she's going to dismiss you again, she looks over at the group, making sure they're not listening, then back at you. “i'll think about it, cheerleader,” nat says, her voice softer than usual. “but if we do this, i get to decide where we go. deal?”

you blink, surprised by her answer, but you can't hide the grin that spreads across your face. that's not a no. it's far from it, actually.

“deal,” you agree, heart racing in your chest hopefully.

“good,” she says, her lips curling slightly as she pats her pocket, where she must still keep the note with your number on it. “i’ll let you know when. don't go getting your hopes up, though!”

and with that, she turns back to the group, pulling the collar of her jacket up higher, but you catch the smallest smile before she does.

you're not sure if you've just secured somewhat of a date with nat scatorccio or if you're just being hopeful. either way you’re not ready to back down yet.

you don't hear back from nat right away. truthfully, you're not sure you ever will. then, three days later, just when you've pretty much given up on it, the telephone rings.

“hello?” you say, balancing the phone between your ear and shoulder as you set your homework aside.

“hey, cheerleader”

your heart practically jumps at the sound of nat's voice, low and almost reluctant, as though she's already second-guessing this decision

“nat?” you ask, sitting up straighter.

“yeah,” she replies, and you can practically hear her smirking through the phone. “i said i'd think about it, didn't i?”

a stupidly wide smile spreads across your face before you can stop it.

“you did. so, what's the verdict?”

there's a pause on the other end, and then: “tomorrow night. meet me at the bowling alley on main street, eight o'clock?”

“bowling?” you repeat, surprised.

“yeah, you know? shoes that look like fucking clown rejects, greasy fries, cheap drinks?” she pauses, and her voice takes on a teasing edge. “figured it'd be fun to see you totally suck at something for once!”

you laugh softly, shaking your head. “wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. are you any good?”

nat immediately snorts, and the sound is so sudden and genuine that it makes your grin widen. “hell no. i fucking suck. but they've got an arcade, so if we both bomb at bowling, at least there's that!”

“an arcade?”

“what, you don't think i could beat your ass at pinball?”

“oh i think i could destroy you at pinball, actually!” you laugh into the speaker

“big talk, cheerleader,” nat says, her smirk audible. “guess we'll see, huh?”

“guess we will,” you reply, still smiling.

there's a moment of silence before she speaks again, her tone quieter now. “see you tomorrow, then. don't flake!”

“i won't," you promise. “you better not either!”

nat scoffs lightly. “yeah, yeah. see you at eight!”

before you can respond, the line goes dead, leaving you with the telephone pressed to your ear, smiling like an idiot.

— a/n: happy new year everyone!! here’s the first part of my little nat series (masterlist) <3

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 34/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 8937

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The harsh blare of Jensen’s alarm shattered the cozy stillness of the morning. You stirred against his chest, groaning softly as you reached out to silence the offending noise, but Jensen beat you to it, fumbling blindly to swipe it off. As the room fell silent again, you blinked up at him, your cheek still pressed against his chest.

He looked exhausted, his green eyes heavy-lidded and rimmed with shadows that made him seem at least five years older. His stubble was slightly more pronounced in the dim morning light, and his usual easy smile was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a weary sigh as he ran a hand down his face.

“You look like you fought a war last night”, you teased gently, your voice still thick with sleep.

Jensen chuckled, the sound low and raspy as he tilted his head back against the cushions. “I feel like I did”, he admitted, his hand moving absently to rub your back. “Should’ve gone to bed earlier. But someone insisted on testing every inch of this couch”.

You smirked, shifting slightly to look up at him. “Pretty sure that someone was you”.

He gave a half-hearted shrug, his lips twitching into a faint grin. “Details”.

You pressed a soft kiss to his chest, your hand moving to trace lazy circles over his ribs. “You don’t have to go”, you murmured, your voice gentle. “You’re running on fumes. Stay and rest”.

Jensen shook his head, his fingers brushing through your hair as he looked down at you with a soft expression. “Can’t. I need to get back for the kids”. His voice was resolute, but the tiredness in it betrayed how much he wanted to stay.

You sighed, leaning up to rest your chin on his chest. “Just promise me you’ll take it easy when you get there. No running around or doing ten things at once. You’re not a superhero, you know”.

He grinned faintly at that, his hand sliding to cradle your face. “Not a superhero, huh?”, he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’re the first person who’s dared to say that to me”.

“Well, someone has to keep you grounded”, you teased, leaning into his touch.

Jensen’s grin turned mischievous as he leaned closer, his tired eyes sparkling just a little. “I seem to remember someone enjoying the Soldier Boy roleplay a little too much a few weeks ago”.

You froze for a second, the heat rising to your cheeks instantly. “Oh my god, Jensen!”, you muttered, covering your face with your hands. “We are not talking about that right now”.

“Oh, we absolutely are”, he replied, his chuckle deep and smug as he gently pulled your hands away from your face. “The way you looked at me in that uniform? You weren’t thinking about me being grounded, that’s for sure”.

You groaned, burying your face into his chest to avoid his knowing smirk. “I can’t believe you’re bringing this up”, you mumbled against his skin, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed how much you were trying not to laugh.

“Manhandling you, tossing you around a bit—it’s what heroes do, right? I mean, I even stayed in character. You were very into it”.

You lifted your head, glaring playfully at him despite your still-flushed cheeks. “Okay, fine, yes—I liked it”, you admitted, throwing your hands up in defeat. “But that’s on you, not me. You looked too good in that uniform. It was distracting”.

Jensen’s laughter rumbled through his chest as he kissed the top of your head. “I’ll take that as a compliment”, he said, his tone smug but warm.

You smirked, feeling a wave of boldness rush through you as you placed your hands on Jensen’s chest and pushed him gently back against the mattress. He fell back with a mock look of surprise, his grin never faltering. Swinging your leg over, you straddled his stomach, settling on him with a triumphant smile as you leaned down slightly.

“So”, you began, your voice soft and teasing, “do you think I’ll ever get Soldier Boy back?”. You tilted your head, feigning shyness but grinning wickedly, fully aware of how you had him exactly where you wanted him.

Jensen’s eyes darkened instantly, his smirk shifting into something more mischievous. Without missing a beat, he let out a low, gravelly voice, slipping effortlessly into character. “Oh, sweetheart”, he drawled, his hands sliding up to grip your hips firmly. “You don’t get Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy gets you”.

Before you could react, his hand came down sharply on your ass with a loud smack, making you gasp in surprise. The sting was immediate, but the playful gleam in his eyes and the smirk tugging at his lips sent a shiver of excitement through you.

“Guess you forgot who’s in charge here”, he said, his tone dripping with filthy arrogance as his other hand gripped your waist tightly, pulling you slightly closer, before turning the two of you. “Better start showing some respect, doll, or I might have to remind you”.

Your cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and arousal, and you couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled out of you. "Fuck, sober this is something else". Your voice was barely audible, and yet it betrayed the whirlwind of emotions rushing through you—nervousness, excitement, and arousal blending together in a way that made your heart race.

Jensen’s grin deepened, the mischievous gleam in his eyes growing even more intense. “Oh, doll”, he said, staying fully in character, his deep voice dripping with Soldier Boy’s signature arrogance. “You’ve got no idea what you’ve just gotten yourself into”.

He leaned down, his face mere inches from yours, his lips curling into a wicked smirk. “You’re blushing”, he drawled, his tone laced with amusement. “Guess someone likes a little discipline”.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, trying to cover your face, but Jensen wouldn’t let you hide. He caught your wrists gently but firmly, pinning them above your head as he loomed over you, still embodying the cocky, commanding presence of Soldier Boy.

“Ah-ah”, he tsked, his voice dropping even lower. “None of that. You don’t get to hide from me”.

You were practically squirming beneath him now, your breath quickening as he held you in place. “Jensen”, you mumbled, your voice caught between teasing and pleading.

“Jensen?”, he repeated, his grin turning smug. “Sweetheart, that’s not the name you’re supposed to be calling me”.

Your face grew impossibly redder as you avoided his gaze, mumbling, “Oh my god, you’re really leaning into this”.

“As if I wouldn’t”, he shot back, his free hand sliding down to your hip, holding you steady. “What kind of actor would I be if I didn’t fully commit?”.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a smile as you looked up at him, unable to deny how effortlessly he’d fallen into the role. "You’re enjoying this way too much", you muttered.

Jensen’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned closer, his voice a seductive whisper against your ear. “You’re the one who asked for it, doll. Don’t act like you’re not loving every second”.

And damn it, he was right.

Minutes later, you found yourself in the warm steam of the shower, the water cascading over both of you. Your body was still buzzing, your face flushed and your skin marked in a telling shade of red from where “Soldier Boy” had left his signature touch—your hips, your breasts, your ass, everywhere he’d gripped, squeezed, or held you in place. Despite the stinging sensitivity, the memory of his intensity made your knees feel weak all over again.

Jensen stood behind you, his chest pressed against your back, his strong arms wrapping gently around your middle. One of his hands rested on your stomach, brushing over your skin in slow, soothing circles, while the other held you steady as the heat from the shower enveloped you both. His touch was soft now, a stark contrast to the dominance he’d shown earlier.

“You okay?”, he murmured into your ear, his voice low and gentle, breaking through the sound of the water. His lips brushed lightly against your temple, a silent reassurance of his care.

You nodded, leaning back into his chest, letting his presence ground you. “Yeah”, you whispered, your voice soft but steady. “More than okay”.

Jensen chuckled quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest against your back. “Didn’t push you too far, did I?”, he asked, his tone teasing but with a genuine edge of concern.

You turned your head slightly to look up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the heat still lingering in your cheeks. “No”, you assured him. “You were perfect. Maybe a little too good at it”.

That earned a low laugh from him, his hand sliding up to rest just beneath your ribs. “Told you I’m a professional”, he joked, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “But for real, you tell me if there’s ever anything you don’t want, okay? I mean that”.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and you reached up to rest your hand over his on your stomach. “I will”, you promised, your voice equally serious.

Jensen had already moved on to packing his suitcase, his movements purposeful but unhurried as he folded clothes and tucked them neatly inside. You sat on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in the towel from the shower, your skin warm and slightly flushed. The calm after the storm lingered in the room, a quiet intimacy that made you smile softly to yourself.

As you watched him, your eyes trailed over his familiar silhouette. Jensen had just pulled on a pair of dark jeans, leaving his upper body bare as he moved to grab a shirt from the nearby dresser. The way his muscles flexed with each movement made your heart skip a beat, and you found yourself lost in the moment, admiring him without saying a word.

Jensen glanced back over his shoulder and caught your gaze, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What?”, he asked, his tone playful as he held up a black t-shirt.

You shook your head, a grin spreading across your face as you leaned back on your hands. “Just admiring the view”, you teased, letting the towel slip slightly to reveal a bit more skin. “You clean up pretty well, Ackles”.

Jensen chuckled, pulling the shirt over his head and smoothing it into place. “Flattery will get you everywhere”, he replied, stepping closer to the bed and dropping his hands onto your knees. His touch was warm and steady, his thumbs brushing small circles against your skin. “But you’re making it really hard for me to leave when you look like that”.

You glanced down at yourself, the towel barely hanging on, and gave a small shrug. “Maybe that’s the plan”, you said softly, your tone playful but with a hint of longing.

Jensen crouched slightly so he was eye level with you, his hands sliding up to your thighs as he leaned in. “You’re not playing fair”, he murmured, his lips hovering close to yours. “You know how hard it is for me to walk away from you”.

“I hope so”, you whispered, your voice soft and tinged with emotion. Your hand reached up to brush along Jensen’s jawline, the familiar roughness of his stubble grounding you in the moment. “Because letting you go is hard for me too”.

Jensen’s gaze softened, and his hands tightened slightly on your thighs, his touch firm but tender. “You’re not making this any easier”, he admitted, his voice low and full of warmth. He leaned in closer, pressing his forehead against yours as his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “This is the first time in weeks we’ll be apart".

You gave him a small, bittersweet smile, your fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. “It’s not forever”, you reminded him gently. “It’s just a few days. And then you’ll be back, and we’ll pick up right where we left off”.

Jensen opened his eyes, and the intensity in his green gaze sent a flutter through your chest. “You better believe I’m counting down the minutes”, he murmured, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that felt more like a promise than a goodbye.

When he pulled back, he sighed, resting his hands on your hips as if reluctant to let go. “You’ll be okay here, right? The house is huge, and it’s your first time here alone. If you need anything—”.

“I’ll be fine, Jensen”, you interrupted with a reassuring smile. “I’ve got the dog statue to keep me company, remember?”.

He laughed, the sound light and genuine, breaking through the tension. “Good ol’ bronze nightmare”, he said, shaking his head. “At least it’ll make sure no one sneaks in”.

You chuckled along with him, leaning in to press one last kiss to his lips. “Now go before I change my mind and barricade the door so you can’t leave”.

Jensen smirked, standing to his full height as he grabbed his suitcase. “Don’t tempt me”, he warned playfully. With a final lingering glance, he headed toward the door, pausing in the doorway to look back at you. “I’ll call you as soon as I land, okay?”.

You nodded, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself. “I’ll be waiting. Safe travels, Ackles”.

As the door clicked shut behind him, the house seemed to grow quieter, the absence of his presence already palpable. You sighed, standing up and moving to the window to watch as he loaded his suitcase into the cap.

It was just a few days, you reminded yourself. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of how much you’d already grown used to having him by your side, how much you’d miss him in even the smallest ways.

The next day, the house felt quieter—almost too quiet. Without Jensen’s easy laughter echoing through the halls or the warmth of his presence nearby, you realized just how much you’d come to rely on him being there. Breakfast was boring, the TV didn’t hold your attention, and every little task seemed to take twice as long because your mind kept wandering back to him.

Jensen had sent you a few pictures earlier in the day, each one tugging at your heartstrings in a different way. There was one of him with JJ perched on his lap, a goofy smile on both their faces as they held up their half-decorated gingerbread cookies. Another showed Arrow giggling as she smeared frosting on Jensen’s nose, and the last was Zeppelin, grinning triumphantly as he held up a hand-drawn Christmas card.

The photos made you smile, but they also left an ache in your chest—a longing to be part of those moments. To see the way Jensen’s eyes lit up when he was with his kids, to hear their laughter in person instead of imagining it from the snapshots.

You sighed, tossing your phone onto the couch and staring up at the ceiling. “This sucks”, you muttered to yourself, wrapping the throw blanket tighter around your shoulders. You wanted to text Jensen, to tell him how much you missed him, but you didn’t want to add to what was probably already a chaotic day for him. He deserved to enjoy his time with his kids without worrying about you feeling lonely.

Instead, you got up and wandered the house, hoping to distract yourself by finishing some of the little tasks you’d put off. You unpacked a few boxes, rearranged some of the kitchen shelves, and even found yourself dusting the bronze dog statue by the front door—a sure sign of just how bored you were.

Later in the afternoon, your phone buzzed, and you grabbed it eagerly, hoping it was Jensen. It was another picture, this time of the whole family sitting on the couch, watching a Christmas movie. Jensen’s caption read: “Wish you were here. Miss you like crazy”.

You clutched the phone to your chest, the ache in your chest softening slightly at his words. With a small smile, you typed back: “Me too. House feels empty without you. Also, I dusted the dog today. Don’t judge me”.

His reply came almost instantly: “I don’t know what’s more shocking—that you dusted or that you admit it. I love you”.

You smiled at Jensen’s reply, your fingers flying across the screen as you texted back:

“Love you too. Also, don’t act like the dusting isn’t a big deal. I’m practically a domestic goddess now. Have fun with the kids—don’t let them out-cookie you”.

You set your phone aside and stretched, trying to shake off the lingering loneliness. The photos of Jensen and the kids had left you craving a bit of the festive spirit, so you decided to channel your energy into something fun—baking cookies. Even if they were just for you, it would be a good way to pass the time and maybe cheer yourself up.

You wandered into the kitchen and pulled out the ingredients from the cabinets and fridge, grateful for the well-stocked pantry that Jensen insisted on setting up during one of his “let’s hire someone” phases. The sight of flour, sugar, and chocolate chips laid out on the counter brought a spark of excitement. Maybe you weren’t the world’s best baker, but you could definitely manage a batch of cookies.

As you worked, the kitchen began to fill with the comforting aroma of vanilla and melted butter. You hummed along to a playlist you’d put on in the background, rolling dough into imperfect little balls and popping them into the oven. The rhythmic act of measuring, mixing, and shaping cookies soothed your mind, and for the first time all day, you felt a little less alone.

When the first tray of cookies came out, golden and fragrant, you couldn’t help but smile at your handiwork. You snagged one immediately, blowing on it to cool before taking a bite. It was still warm, the chocolate gooey and perfect, and you let out a little hum of satisfaction. Maybe baking wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Your phone buzzed on the counter, pulling you from your thoughts. It was Jensen again.

“What are you up to now? Don’t tell me you’re cleaning the dog statue again”.

You grinned, taking a picture of the cookies on the counter and sending it back with the caption:

“Nope. Just baked cookies. You’re missing out”.

His reply came a moment later:

“Not fair. Save some for me, alright?”.

You texted back:

“Only if you promise to hurry home. No guarantees otherwise”.

Jensen’s response was immediate and made your chest warm:

“Deal. Miss you more than cookies”.

Christmas Day had arrived, but instead of the warmth and excitement you usually associated with the holiday, the house still felt far too quiet. Dressed in one of Jensen’s ridiculously expensive sweaters—it still smelled like his cologne even after washing—you curled up on the couch, your legs tucked beneath you, and clicked through Christmas movies. The scent of him brought a bittersweet comfort, making you miss him even more.

The loneliness felt sharper today. You’d thought about visiting your family, but the idea of sitting through another round of prying questions about your love life felt unbearable. And Jensen… well, he was still a secret you weren’t ready to share, not while everything was still so complicated. So, instead, you’d resolved to spend the day alone, letting yourself melt into the world of feel-good holiday rom-coms and sugary cookies you’d baked the day before.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the country, you knew Jensen was enduring a very different kind of holiday chaos. He’d texted you early in the morning, a photo of JJ and Arrow excitedly tearing through wrapping paper, with a simple caption:

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart. Miss you so much”.

You’d replied with a quick selfie of yourself in his sweater, holding a mug of hot chocolate:

“Merry Christmas. Love you. But I think your sweater misses you more".

But since then, you hadn’t heard much from him. You suspected why.

Danneel was in her element during the holidays, or at least the version of the holidays she wanted the world to see. You could picture it all too clearly: the forced family photos, the perfectly curated videos of the kids opening presents, the captions about being “blessed”. Everything about it would be carefully staged for social media, a façade of a happy family. It didn’t matter that their marriage was on its last legs—appearances were everything.

Jensen had vented to you about it before, about the pressure to play along just a bit longer. But it still stung to think of him standing next to her in those photos, smiling like everything was fine, while you were here missing him so much it hurt.

You clicked aimlessly through Netflix, barely paying attention to the movie playing in the background. Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, and you reached for it, hoping it was Jensen. Instead, it was a new post from Danneel on Instagram. Against your better judgment, you opened it.

There it was: a perfectly framed family photo in front of a lavishly decorated Christmas tree. Jensen stood beside Danneel, his arm around JJ while Arrow and Zeppelin grinned at the camera. Danneel’s caption read:

“Merry Christmas from our family to yours. Grateful for another beautiful holiday together ❤️🎄”.

Your chest tightened, and you quickly closed the app, setting your phone down with a little more force than necessary. You knew it was just for show, but seeing it still stung. Jensen had promised you things were ending with Danneel, but moments like these made it hard not to feel like an afterthought.

The sound of the movie faded into the background as you pulled the sweater tighter around yourself, curling up into a smaller ball on the couch. It was just one day, you reminded yourself. Tomorrow, Jensen would call. Tomorrow, this would all feel a little easier.

You sat staring at the Christmas lights blinking softly in the dim room, trying to lose yourself in the comforting warmth of the sweater that smelled so much like Jensen. But when your phone buzzed again on the coffee table, a faint flicker of dread passed through you. You already knew what it was.

You reached for your phone hesitantly, opening the message from Jensen:

“Heads up. She’s posting some… staged stuff. Don’t let it mess with you. I hate it as much as you do”.

Your chest tightened, your fingers gripping the phone tighter. You appreciated the warning, but it didn’t fully prepare you for what came next. Against your better judgment, you opened Instagram again and found the new post from Danneel.

It was a picture of her and Jensen standing in front of the Christmas tree, the kids in the background opening presents. She was turned toward him, their faces close, and her lips brushed against his in a way that looked both intimate and entirely deliberate. The caption read:

“Holiday traditions with the ones I love most ❤️🎄 #FamilyFirst”.

Your stomach dropped. You knew it wasn’t real—knew Jensen’s relationship with her was over in every way that mattered. But seeing the image, seeing her hands on him, her lips so close to his, hit harder than you expected. The ache in your chest turned sharp, a mix of jealousy and doubt creeping in despite your better judgment.

Your fingers hovered over your phone screen, debating whether to say something to Jensen. He’d warned you. He’d told you it was all for show. But it didn’t stop the image from clawing its way into your mind, feeding into insecurities you hadn’t even realized were still there.

You sighed deeply, setting your phone down and curling further into the couch. You trusted Jensen, but the life he was still partially tethered to felt suffocating at times like this.

The weight of the day clung to you as you finally decided to head to bed early. Staying awake, scrolling through your phone, and letting your thoughts spiral would only make things worse. You turned off the TV, the soft glow of the Christmas lights fading into the darkened room as you padded to the bedroom. Climbing into the bed you shared with Jensen, you wrapped yourself in the familiar scent of his pillow, clinging to the thought that in just two days, he’d be home. That was your lifeline—a reminder that this situation wasn’t permanent.

You tried to focus on the fact that Jensen hated the staged images just as much as you did. He wasn’t the one choosing to post them. He was stuck in a situation he didn’t want to be in, but it didn’t make the ache in your chest disappear. It was easier to close your eyes and will the hours to pass quickly.

Meanwhile, in Connecticut, the tension in the house had reached a boiling point. The kids were fast asleep, their Christmas excitement finally wearing them out, leaving Jensen and Danneel alone in the living room. Jensen was still in the clothes he’d worn all day, his sleeves rolled up and his jaw clenched as he sat on the edge of the couch, a stack of papers in his hand.

“Why are we still doing this?”, he said, his voice low but taut with frustration. “We’ve had these same conversations over and over. You keep stalling. You agreed to this, Danneel”.

Danneel stood near the fireplace, her arms crossed defensively. She looked poised, her makeup still perfect despite the late hour, but her voice carried a sharp edge. “I told you, I’m not signing until I know what’s best for the kids”.

“And this circus on social media?”, Jensen shot back, holding up his phone briefly before tossing it onto the coffee table. “That’s what’s best for them? Making it look like we’re still a happy little family?”.

“They don’t need to see their parents tearing each other apart”, she countered, her tone icy. “They need stability, Jensen”.

“What they need is fucking honesty”, he replied, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself, glancing toward the hallway where the kids were sleeping. He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dragging this out, playing house for Instagram, it’s not helping them. It’s confusing them. And it’s making it harder for me to move on”.

The words hung heavy in the air, their double meaning clear. Danneel’s eyes flickered with a mix of hurt and defiance. “Move on”, she repeated bitterly, her arms tightening around herself. “You mean with her”.

Jensen looked at her, his expression softening just slightly. “This isn’t about her. It’s about us. About ending this in a way that doesn’t destroy everything. But you’re making it impossible”.

Danneel, her composure already teetering from too many glasses of wine, grew visibly more agitated as the conversation spiraled. Her cheeks were flushed, her movements sharper and more erratic. She had crossed the line from defensive to outright combative, her words no longer measured but biting.

“Oh, you think you’re so noble, don’t you?”, she snapped, pacing in front of the fireplace, her glass sloshing slightly as she gestured. “You’re the one who walked away, who decided you were done. And now, because you’ve moved on, I’m supposed to just roll over and make it easy for you?”.

Jensen sat back, his jaw tightening as he watched her unravel. He exhaled deeply, trying to maintain some semblance of control despite his own growing frustration. “This isn’t about me”, he said firmly, his voice low but steady. “It’s about the kids. About giving them a stable environment—”.

“Don’t you dare lecture me about stability!”, she interrupted, her voice rising sharply. “I’ve been holding this family together while you’ve been off playing house with her!”.

Jensen’s patience finally snapped, and he stood, towering over her as his voice grew louder. “Holding this family together? Are you serious, Danneel? This isn’t holding anything together—it’s dragging it through the mud. We’re pretending for the sake of appearances, and it’s toxic. For us. For the kids. For everyone”.

Danneel’s face twisted into a bitter smile, and she placed her glass down with a loud clink before walking to the coffee table. She snatched the stack of papers, her hands shaking as she flipped through them. “Fine”, she spat, her voice dripping with venom. “You want this so fucking badly? You want out? Here!”.

Without hesitation, she grabbed a pen from the table and scrawled her signature across the necessary lines, the sound of the pen scratching against the paper harsh and final. When she was done, she ripped the pages free and hurled them at Jensen, the papers fluttering briefly in the air before hitting him square in the chest.

“There!”, she said, her voice breaking as she turned back toward the fireplace. “Merry fucking Christmas, Jensen!”.

Jensen caught the papers as they fell, his expression a mixture of shock, frustration, and a flicker of relief. He looked down at the signatures, his hand tightening around the edges of the documents. For a moment, he said nothing, letting the weight of her words hang in the air.

“Thank you”, he said finally, his voice calm but heavy. He straightened, gathering the papers carefully before turning toward the stairs. “I’ll stay here tonight for the kids, but after tomorrow, I’m gone. I’ll figure out a way to tell them in the least painful way possible”.

Danneel didn’t respond, her shoulders stiff as she stared into the fire, her back to him.

Jensen turned and walked upstairs, clutching the papers tightly in his hand. As he reached the guest room, he let out a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. It was over. Finally. The thought brought so much relief as he sat on the edge of the bed. His mind wandered to you, the only person who made him feel grounded and whole in the chaos.

His first instinct was to reach for his phone, to call you and hear your voice. You were the one constant, the one thing that always made sense in the chaos of his life.

He dialed your number, the familiar sequence offering a brief moment of comfort. But after a few rings, it went straight to voicemail. His shoulders sagged slightly, realizing you were likely asleep. He smiled faintly, imagining you curled up in his sweater, probably with the TV still playing softly in the background.

“Hey”, he said after the beep, his voice quiet but warm. “I just… I needed to hear your voice, even if it’s just your voicemail. It’s done. She signed the papers tonight. It wasn’t pretty, but it’s over. I know it’s late, so I’ll let you sleep. Just… two more days, baby. I’ll be home soon. I love you”.

He ended the call and set his phone on the nightstand, the faint glow of the screen illuminating his face for a moment before the room was plunged back into darkness. He lay back on the unfamiliar bed, staring up at the ceiling as his thoughts continued to race. Relief, sadness, guilt, and hope all battled for space in his mind, but the image of you—the way you’d smiled at him, the way you’d whispered his name—was the one thing that brought him peace.

Jensen closed his eyes, exhaustion finally pulling him under as he held onto the thought of you, counting down the hours until he could be by your side again.

The next morning, you woke up with a groggy sense of calm, your limbs tangled in the blankets as the morning light filtered softly through the curtains. You reached for your phone instinctively, still lying in bed, and saw the notification for Jensen’s voicemail. A small smile tugged at your lips as you opened it, his familiar voice immediately sparking warmth in your chest.

“I just… I needed to hear your voice, even if it’s just your voicemail. It’s done. She signed the papers tonight…”.

His words ignited a spark inside you, your heart racing as he continued. Relief flooded through you at the news, and the way he ended with "I love you" made your chest tighten with emotion. You sat up in bed, clutching the phone, eager to call him back and hear more about what had happened.

But before you could press the call button, a sudden wave of nausea hit you hard. Your stomach lurched, and you barely had time to toss your phone onto the bed before you bolted for the bathroom. Kneeling over the toilet, you clutched the cool porcelain, your body trembling as you heaved, the nausea relentless.

It took a few moments for the sickness to subside, leaving you weak and slightly disoriented. You sat back on your heels, wiping your mouth with a tissue as you tried to steady your breathing. The lingering taste of bile made your stomach churn again, but this time, it was more manageable.

“What the hell…”, you murmured to yourself, leaning against the wall as you tried to piece together why you’d felt so suddenly ill. You hadn’t eaten anything unusual the night before, and you’d been feeling fine up until now.

Your gaze flicked back to the bedroom, where your phone still rested on the bed. Jensen’s words echoed in your mind, reminding you of the steady comfort he brought even in moments like this. You decided to shake off the nausea and call him back, your heart still racing from his voicemail and the realization that his life was moving closer to the one you were building together.

You grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen to rinse your mouth and steady your nerves, then picked up your phone, ready to hear his voice again.

You held your phone to your ear, waiting as the call rang and rang, but Jensen didn’t answer. A flicker of disappointment crossed your face, but you quickly reminded yourself that he was likely busy with the kids or catching up on much-needed rest after the exhausting events of the night before. Still, a small part of you had hoped to hear his voice right away.

Setting the phone down on the counter, you made your way back to the bathroom to freshen up. Turning on the faucet, you let the water run cold as you grabbed your toothbrush and began brushing your teeth. The lingering nausea was still fresh in your memory, and you figured getting cleaned up might help shake off whatever this weird feeling was.

But as you stared at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t ignore it: something felt… off. It wasn’t just the nausea anymore—it was a strange mix of fatigue and unease that settled in your chest. You paused mid-brush, frowning slightly as you tried to piece together why you felt so out of sorts.

Maybe it was the stress of the past few weeks finally catching up with you. Between moving into the new house, navigating the complexities of Jensen’s situation, and spending Christmas alone, it wasn’t surprising that your body might be reacting to it all. But even as you tried to rationalize it, a nagging thought lingered at the back of your mind.

Your hand rested on the counter as you leaned forward, taking a slow, deep breath to center yourself. “Get it together”, you mumbled, rinsing your mouth and splashing cold water on your face. The chill jolted you slightly, but it didn’t completely shake the fog settling over you.

Still, you brushed it off, telling yourself it was nothing a little food and fresh air couldn’t fix. Grabbing your phone again, you checked to see if Jensen had called back, but there was still no response. You sent him a quick text instead:

“Hope everything’s okay. Call me when you can. I miss you”.

With that, you decided to focus on starting your day, even though the gnawing sensation in your gut refused to leave entirely.

The sound of your key in the door seemed louder in the quiet house, and as you stepped inside, balancing grocery bags in both hands a few hours later, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks. Jensen stood against the kitchen counter, a cookie halfway to his mouth, his green eyes lighting up when he saw you. He looked like he hadn’t slept much, but his presence immediately filled the house with warmth.

“Hey”, he said, his voice soft but carrying that familiar note of comfort. “Surprise”.

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “Jensen? You—”, you paused, setting the bags down on the counter. “You’re not supposed to be back until tomorrow”.

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Caught an earlier flight”, he said simply, popping the cookie into his mouth and brushing his hands on his jeans. “Wanted to be home”.

The words sent a warm flutter through your chest, but the lingering soreness and nausea in your stomach reminded you that you weren’t exactly in your best shape to enjoy the moment.

Jensen stepped away from the counter, closing the space between you with a few long strides. His hands found your waist, his touch gentle yet grounding as he pulled you closer. His green eyes searched your face, concern mingling with curiosity as he tilted his head slightly.

“What’s going on?”, he asked softly, his voice low and steady. “I thought you’d be happy to see me. Especially with the divorce papers finally signed”.

His words hung in the air, and you blinked up at him, your chest tightening at the realization of what that meant. He’d done it—he’d closed that chapter of his life. Relief and gratitude swelled in you, but the lingering queasiness in your stomach dulled the joy just slightly.

“I am happy to see you”, you said, your voice a little shaky as you rested your hands on his chest. “I just… wasn’t expecting you so soon. And… I’m feeling a little off today”.

Jensen frowned, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as his brows knitted together. “Off how?”, he asked, his voice laced with concern. “You sick? Something happen?”.

You shook your head quickly, not wanting to worry him more than necessary. “No, nothing like that”, you reassured him. “Just some stomach stuff. Probably… I don’t know, stress”.

He studied you for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

There was a pause as his eyes searched your face, his expression tender and filled with concern. Then, he leaned in to kiss you, a familiar gesture that usually brought comfort—but this time, you instinctively flinched, your body stiffening against him.

The movement was subtle but unmistakable, and it threw Jensen completely off. He froze, his brows knitting together once more, as he stepped back slightly, his hands still resting gently on your waist. “Hey”, he murmured, his voice laced with confusion and a tinge of hurt. “What was that?”.

You looked away, your heart sinking as you realized what had just happened. The image of the staged photo—the one of him and Danneel kissing—flashed in your mind again, unbidden and sharp. You’d told yourself it didn’t matter, that you understood it wasn’t real, but clearly, it had left a mark deeper than you’d thought.

“It’s nothing”, you said quickly, trying to brush it off, but your voice lacked conviction. “I’m just… I don’t know. It’s been a weird couple of days”.

Jensen tilted his head, his concern deepening as he gently tipped your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. “That’s not nothing”, he said quietly, his voice steady but firm. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”.

You hesitated, feeling a lump form in your throat as you tried to put your feelings into words. “It’s stupid”, you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

You opened your mouth to say more, to try and explain, but the words got caught in your throat. Before you could force anything out, a wave of nausea hit you like a freight train, making your stomach churn violently. Without a second thought, you pushed Jensen’s hands away, clutching your stomach as you spun on your heel and bolted toward the bathroom.

“Hey!”, Jensen called after you, his voice laced with worry. You barely registered it, the urgency in your body overtaking everything else.

You made it to the bathroom just in time, falling to your knees in front of the toilet as your body betrayed you. The sickness came in waves, leaving you clutching the porcelain for support as you struggled to catch your breath between bouts. Your head spun, and your heart raced, the abruptness of it all making it impossible to focus.

A moment later, you felt Jensen’s presence behind you. He didn’t say a word at first, simply kneeling beside you and brushing your hair back from your face with gentle fingers. His other hand rested lightly on your back, rubbing soothing circles as you trembled.

Jensen’s voice was soft and steady, laced with concern as he leaned closer, his hand never stopping the gentle motion against your back. “Baby, what’s that?”, he whispered, his other hand brushing a few damp strands of hair away from your face. The warmth in his touch was grounding, but the worry in his tone only made your chest tighten further.

You shook your head weakly, still clutching the toilet as your stomach twisted uncomfortably. “I… I don’t know”, you managed to croak out, your voice hoarse. “It just hit me so fast”.

Jensen frowned, his hand stilling briefly before resuming its soothing pattern on your back. “Have you been feeling like this all day?”, he asked softly, his voice a mix of worry and frustration, like he was trying to piece everything together. “You said you were off earlier. Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”.

You turned slightly, leaning back against the cool bathroom wall as the nausea slowly began to ebb. “I didn’t think it was anything”, you admitted, your eyes meeting his. “Just felt bloated and sore. I thought it would pass”.

Jensen sighed, crouching closer so he could look at you more fully. His green eyes searched your face, scanning for any sign of what was causing this. “This isn’t nothing”, he said firmly but gently.

You sighed, letting the words spill out before you could stop yourself. “It’s just the stress, Jensen”, you mumbled, your voice low and weary. “You try spending Christmas all by yourself while your boyfriend’s out there kissing his wife for everyone to see”.

The second the words left your mouth, you froze, your eyes widening as you realized what you’d just said. Heat flooded your face as you looked away from him, clutching the edge of the bathroom counter for something to focus on. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud—not like that, not now. The air between you felt charged, thick with the weight of your unintended confession.

Jensen sat back on his heels, stunned into silence for a moment. The tension in the room was palpable, and you could feel his gaze on you, his hands stilling completely. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, filled with a mix of guilt and understanding. “Baby…”.

You shook your head, your voice coming out softer this time, almost a whisper. “I didn’t mean to say that. I just… it’s been a lot, you know? I know it wasn’t real, and I know why you had to do it, but seeing that picture—it hurt more than I thought it would”.

Jensen exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging as he reached for your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours. “I should’ve handled it better”, he admitted, his tone heavy with regret. “I thought giving you a heads-up would help, but I didn’t realize how much it’d still hurt you. That’s on me”.

You turned back to the sink, brushing your teeth with deliberate focus, the tension in the room still thick between you. “It’s not your fault”, you mumbled through the toothpaste, your voice soft but certain. After rinsing your mouth, you grabbed a towel and wiped your face, avoiding Jensen’s gaze as you turned toward the door.

“Where are you going?”, he asked gently, his voice laced with concern.

“To the living room”, you replied quietly, without looking back. “I just… I need a minute”.

Jensen stayed kneeling in the bathroom for a moment after you walked out, running a hand through his hair and letting out a heavy sigh. This wasn’t how he’d imagined coming home earlier than planned. He’d been in such a good mood, finally having the divorce papers signed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He’d thought you’d be happy to see him, that the two of you could finally start thinking about the future without the shadow of his past hanging over everything. But now this.

He stood slowly, following you into the living room where you were already curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the muted TV. The sight of you—so small, so clearly hurting—made his chest ache. He hated this. Hated that something he’d done, even if unintentionally, had caused you pain.

Jensen walked over and sat down next to you, his body close but not touching, giving you space to breathe. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, the quiet between you broken only by the soft hum of the television.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you”, he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “You have to know that. Every time she pushes for these public things, I hate it. I hate pretending. I hate what it does to you”.

You glanced at him, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. “I know”, you said softly, your tone lacking its usual strength. “I know it’s not what you want. But it doesn’t make it easier to see”.

Your heart ached seeing the regret etched on Jensen’s face. You hadn’t meant to make him feel this way—he was the one person who always made you feel safe, secure, and loved. Now, you couldn’t bear the thought of him blaming himself for something so far out of his control.

Without thinking, you shifted closer, crawling onto his lap and settling yourself there. Jensen’s body tensed briefly in surprise, but his arms instinctively wrapped around you as you pulled them close, holding them firmly around your waist. You buried your face against his chest, your words muffled but filled with emotion.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered, your voice shaky. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just—everything’s been so overwhelming, and the nausea threw me off, and then that picture…”.

You felt his grip tighten around you as he leaned back slightly, resting his chin on the top of your head. His hand began rubbing slow circles on your back, silently urging you to continue.

“I’m so glad you’re here”, you said, your voice cracking slightly. “I was feeling so alone, and seeing you walk through that door—it meant everything. But I’ve been such a mess today, and I took it out on you, and I didn’t mean to…”.

“Hey”, Jensen interrupted gently, his voice steady and soothing as he tilted your chin up so you could meet his gaze. “Stop. You don’t have to apologize for feeling what you feel. This isn’t on you, okay? It’s on me for not being here sooner. For not making things clearer”.

You shook your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “No, Jensen. It’s not you. You’ve done everything right—it’s just me getting in my head and overthinking. I hate that I’m making this harder for you”.

Jensen leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if to reassure you without words. “You’re not making anything harder”, he murmured. “You’re the reason I want all this. The reason I’m fighting so hard to move forward”.

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, melting away some of the doubt that had clung to you all day. You let out a shaky breath, resting your head against his chest once more as his arms tightened around you.

“I love you”, you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. It wasn’t the first time you’d said it, but it carried a different weight now—one born out of vulnerability and truth.

Jensen smiled softly, his hand brushing through your hair. “I love you too”, he said, his voice steady and sure. “And I’m here now. No more pretending, no more staged pictures. Just us”.

You nodded, the tension in your body finally beginning to ease as you let yourself relax in his embrace. In that moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the quiet promise of better days ahead.

Jensen’s arms stayed securely around you, holding you close as the minutes stretched into something quiet and comforting. His chin rested lightly on your head, and the steady rhythm of his breathing was almost enough to lull you to sleep. But then he broke the silence, his voice a low murmur against your hair.

“By the way”, he said softly, the warmth in his tone unmistakable, “those cookies you made? Damn good. I had one earlier while you were out. Might’ve had two… or three”-

You let out a quiet laugh, lifting your head to look at him. “You didn’t even wait for me to get home?”.

He grinned, the corners of his green eyes crinkling. “Couldn’t help it. They were calling my name. You’ve got a real gift, sweetheart”.

The praise made your cheeks flush with warmth, but then your mind wandered to the groceries you’d brought in earlier. Your eyes widened as the realization hit you.

“Shit”, you mumbled, scrambling to get off his lap. Jensen’s hands fell away reluctantly, and he watched you with mild amusement as you hurried toward the kitchen.

“What’s going on?”, he asked, standing up and following you.

“The groceries”, you called over your shoulder. “They’re still sitting on the counter. God, I hope nothing’s gone bad”.

Jensen leaned against the doorway as you began unpacking the bags, his grin widening as he watched you move quickly, pulling out various items. “You’re cute when you’re in panic mode, you know that?”.

“Shut up”, you muttered, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your attempt at being annoyed.

He stepped closer, grabbing a few items from the bags to help. “What’d you get, anyway?”, he asked, peeking at the contents. “Anything good?”.

Jensen reached into one of the bags, pulling out a small, wrapped package and holding it up with a curious tilt of his head. “Mmm, what’s that?”, he asked, his tone playful as he examined it.

You glanced over your shoulder and rolled your eyes when you saw what he was holding. “It’s tea”, you said, reaching to grab it from him, but he held it just out of reach.

“Tea?”, he repeated, grinning as he turned the package over in his hands. “What kind of tea requires this fancy packaging? You sure this isn’t some secret gourmet chocolate?”.

“It’s for my stomach”, you explained, trying to stifle a laugh as you reached for it again. “You know, the stomach you apparently traumatized with your dramatic Instagram antics?”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2 @fitxgrld @luvr4miya @yikeschoices @lyssalvus @soab1967 @luvr4miya @didi0666 @impala67rollingthroughtown @cheekygirl2309 @kamisobsessed @deansimpalababy

[doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou]

Anywhere I Want

> melissa schemmenti x fem!reader

> requested? no

> content/warnings: idk an unfinished curse?

> a/n: please please please tell me what you want me to do with this one, a series? stay as it is what it is? TELL MEEEE

“That’s a nice necklace, Mel! Where’d you get it?” Was Jacob’s greeting to Melissa as she sauntered towards her Barb’s table in the teacher’s lounge, making Melissa glance down at her chest— seeing the flower shaped pendant sitting still on her sternum.

“What’s it to ya, pipsqueak?” said Melissa, receiving a light slap on the arm from Barb. “He’s just asking. No need for that sour mood when the Lord has given us this sunny day to enjoy!” smirking and shaking her head at Barb’s statement, Melissa turned her attention back to Jacob.

“Wanna ask again?”

“Where’s that from?” asked Jacob as he leaned his head on his arm. “Italy.”

Huffing at Melissa’s vague answer, Jacob rolled his eyes. “Come on! There’s gotta be more to that necklace! You replaced your cross one with it today!” Clutched his phone and looking at Janine to back him up.

“Jacob’s right.” Janine and Gregory glanced at each other, then at Jacob, before finally giving Melissa a pointed look.

Pursing her lips at the trio’s pressing attention at her, Melissa huffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine! Someone gave it to me. Before— years ago. Just foun’ it recently while cleaning out my room.”

As Janine was about to speak, the half-hour before bell rang, indicating that the teachers had to go to their classrooms to prep before the kids came, making Melissa thank the Gods as she grabbed her bag and ran towards her classroom.

You wear the same jewels that I gave you, as you bury me

“Y/N. Are you sure? Really really sure about this?” asked Charlie as she sat on one of your children’s desks.

Turning your attention on her, you huffed and pushed her off the desk with your broom. “Yes. It’s just an inter-school thing, C. Nothing’s going to happen.” This made Charlie hum and lean against the wall. Seeing another blonde walk by, she pushed herself off and grabbed the blonde— pulling the teacher inside the classroom.

“C! I just mopped there, gosh!” Throwing the broom down, you rolled your eyes and sat on your desk, facing the two blondes in front of you.

“Yeah, c’mon C, she just mopped and you go pullin’ people inside her classroom.” Kristin Marie smirked at Charlie as she sat on a desk, the one Charlie sat on earlier. “Tin!”

Laughing at your exasperation, Kristin Marie stood up and raised her arms. “What?”

“You have to tell her she can’t go to next weeks inter-school competition!” Shaking Kristin Marie’s arms, Charlie raised her eyebrows to remind the other blonde.

“Why?”

“Because!”

“Because wha-? Oh… oh!” Slapping Charlie’s hands away from her, Kristin Marie shook her head and walked towards you. “I say she go. I mean, what’s gonna happen?”

“The worst can happen! Am I the only one that remembers what your sister did to her?”

Walking towards Charlie, you held the hand pointing at you and put it down. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. Hell, I don't even think she remembers me, C.”

Holding both of Charlie’s hands, you looked into her eyes. “I promise, nothing is going to happen to me. Even Kristin Marie promises it. Right, Tin?”

Biting her lower lip, Kristin Marie joined you, caressing Charlie's arm. “Yeah, not while we're with her.”

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

“Okay y'all, Addington’s gonna be here for a week cause the district wanted to make a few bucks of kids beating each other in chess.” said Ava as she walked in the lounge, beelining towards the coffee maker she bought last week.

“What?!”

“How?!”

“C’mon Janine, we talked about this!” Melissa gave Janine a glare, making the other 2nd grade teacher pout.

“I didn't do this! I’m not even in the district anymore!”

Nodding his head, Jacob agreed. “That's right, Janine left them.”

Cupping her face, Barb huffed the stress away from her space and turned to Ava. “A week? Full of games?”

Leaning against the counter, Ava hummed in agreement. “Yeah, so y'all be ready cause those charter kids ain't gonna let the kids here beat them. Especially them teachers over there.”

“I heard there's a new teacher there, the previous art teacher died of heatstroke— the school didn't even tell the kids the truth, told them Mr. Jamal left to get the treasure at the end of the rainbow.” said Gregory as he drank his fruit smoothie, making the other teacher's raise an eyebrow at the information.

“Where the hell did you get that? He left to join the thugs, boy!” Mr. J pointed his index finger at Gregory.

“Enough of the dead talk! How do you know the new teacher there?” asked Barbara as she looked at Gregory to Janine. The 1st grade teacher followed her gaze and shook his head frantically. “Y/N was my classmate in college, actually she was taking her master's at Brown, then we became friends when we found out we were from Philly—”

As if the name struck a nerve in her, Melissa’s stare at Gregory turned into a harsh glare before Barb took her attention from the first-grade teacher.

And I can go anywhere I want

“Well, y'all are early.” Ava greeted the Addington teachers.

The teachers were having a pre-game event, mostly to talk about how they would play it light when the kids were around. The number one rule? No cursing at the other teachers.

“Have to, we know how y'all play.” Kristin Marie rolled her eyes as she locked gaze with her sister, Melissa.

“How we play? Why you idio-”

“We noticed you have a vacant seat? Not complete yet, huh?” Jacob cut Melissa off before she could start a fire between her and her sister. This made Barbara give the boy an appreciative nod.

“Actually-”

The double doors opened with a bang, the suspect? You. Panting due to the long run you made from Addington's parking lot towards Abbott's building. “Here! The seat's for me. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” You tumbled towards your chair and plopped your ass down, hard.

“Ow… Are the chairs here really that hard, Eddie?” You glanced at your friend who gave you a chuckle and a nod.

“Yeah, not as soft as the chairs in Brown. You have to excuse us.”

Shaking your head, you let a chuckle that turned into a full blown laugh. “Oh geez! That's fine, Eddie.” You stood up and embraced Gregory. “I’ve missed you!”

“Miss you too, Y/N.” Gregory gave you a pat on the back. “This is Janine Teagues, my girlfriend.” He held the hand of a shorter woman as both of you pulled back from the embrace.

“This is Janine?! Hi!” You gave the shorter woman a hug and an energetic shake of hands.

Seeing the change of energy, Charlie stood up from her chair and held your arms to stop giving Janine an arm exercise at seven in the morning. “Sorry, she's like a golden retriever with her energy surges.”

“No, I'm not!” And in your defense, Charlie gave you a pointed look that told you to shut up.

Shrugging, Gregory waved his hand and laughed. “Nah, it's fine. These are my colleagues— Jacob,” a lanky brown-haired man waved at you, “Ava, our principal,” a curvy fashionable woman gave you a wink, “Barbara,” you received a ‘hello dear’ from the woman, “and Melissa.”

Before you could look at the redhead beside Barbara, Charlie pushed you towards your chair. “Would you look at that! All of us are here, shouldn't we start by now so we can all go home early— right, Principal Coleman?”

Anywhere I want, just not home

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Back home p.20

Hii guyss, if you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist and if you missed part 19, here it is.

Your life in Monaco was idyllic, growing up alongside the Leclercs. But everything changes when you're forced to leave. Now, returning to the place you once called home, you're confronted with a dilemma: not one, but two Leclerc brothers vying for your heart. Old bonds and unresolved emotions collide-what will you do when the past and present merge in unexpected ways?

The morning after discovering the slashed tires on Charles's Ferrari was nothing short of chaotic. Charles had been frustrated but surprisingly calm, arranging for a tow truck while reassuring you that he’d get it handled. However, the day took another downward turn when Charles’s phone started buzzing nonstop. His number had been leaked online, and fans and strangers alike were bombarding him with messages and calls.

As if that weren’t enough, a rumor started circulating that Charles had been involved with another girl—completely fabricated but enough to draw unwarranted attention. The universe seemed determined to test both of you, but despite everything, Charles remained steady, his hand constantly finding yours whenever he saw you begin to spiral.

“Hey,” he said softly as you sat on the couch that evening, your knees tucked to your chest. He crouched in front of you, his green eyes searching yours. “We’ll get through this. Together. I promise.”

His voice, calm and reassuring, was a lifeline. You nodded, reaching out to cup his cheek. “I know. It’s just… a lot.”

“I know it is,” he said, pressing a kiss to your palm. “But no matter what happens, you’re not alone in this. Okay?”

You nodded again, this time with a small smile. Charles had a way of making the world feel a little less heavy, even when everything seemed to be falling apart.

After the day’s whirlwind of events—you both decided a change of scenery was exactly what you needed. When Pascale had invited you for dinner earlier in the week, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity to relax and reconnect with someone who always radiated warmth and positivity.

By the time that evening rolled around, things had calmed down somewhat, and you found yourself heading to Charles’s mom’s house for dinner. Pascale had been thrilled when Charles told her the two of you were together and had insisted on hosting you both.

The moment you walked through the door, Pascale enveloped you in a warm hug. “Oh, mon ange, I’m so happy for you two,” she said, her smile radiant.

“Thank you, Pascale,” you said, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

“I always knew,” she said, pulling back to look at you both. “Since you were kids, I could tell there was something special between you.”

Charles laughed, his arm sliding around your waist. “You’re just saying that now because you’re happy we’re together.”

“No, I mean it!” Pascale said, wagging a finger at him. “A mother knows these things.”

As the evening progressed, the three of you shared stories and laughed over old memories. Pascale had made your favorite dish, and the warmth of her home wrapped around you like a comforting blanket.

At one point, Pascale turned to you with a curious smile. “So, how has it been so far? Dating my son?”

Charles started to answer, but you noticed the way his lips parted and the slight tension in his jaw. He was about to bring up Arthur.

Quickly, you interrupted. “It’s been wonderful,” you said, giving Charles a pointed look before turning back to Pascale. “He’s so thoughtful and sweet. Honestly, I couldn’t be happier.”

Charles blinked at you but didn’t press, instead slipping his hand into yours under the table and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Pascale beamed. “I’m so glad to hear that. You deserve to be happy, both of you.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics after that, and the rest of the evening was filled with laughter and love. Before you left, Pascale insisted on taking a picture of the three of you, which she handed to you later, saying, “Post this one. The world should know how happy you two are.”

Back at Charles’s apartment later that night, you posted the photo Pascale had taken. In it, you stood between Charles and his mom, all three of you beaming. The caption read, Family dinners are the best ❤️.

It didn’t take long for the likes and comments to start flooding in, with fans gushing over how adorable the picture was. You set your phone down, smiling as Charles came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You think mom is already planning our wedding?” he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“She wouldn’t be Pascale if she weren’t,” you joked back, leaning into him.

The moment felt perfect, a brief respite from the chaos of the past few days.

Unbeknownst to you, Arthur was staring at the same Instagram post in his room. His jaw tightened as he scrolled through the comments, many of them praising how happy you and Charles looked together.

“Family dinners,” he muttered under his breath, his grip on his phone tightening.

A flicker of jealousy burned in his chest, twisting into something darker. It wasn’t just about Charles stealing the girl he had feelings for—it was about Charles always winning, always coming out on top.

Setting his phone down, Arthur stared out the window, his mind racing. The possessiveness he felt wasn’t rational, and he knew it. But that didn’t stop the gnawing sense of injustice that Charles had taken something else that was supposed to be his.

For now, he stayed quiet, but the storm brewing in his mind was far from over.

Tag list: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @janeh22, @victoriaholland, @abq654, @iamapersonwholikesunicorns, @anaferreira-4, @larastark3107, @itgirlofthecenturysposts, @boherahpsody, @iamkaku, @jz12, @boherahpsody, @urfavouritef1girly, @meglouise00, @charlesgirl16, @a-beaverhausen, @lol6sposts, @linnygirl09, @weekendlusting

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Friendly Neighbourhood

Jason Todd x Reader

wc: 3.5 K summary: Befriending his neighbour gets out of hand. warnings: fluff, no y/n used, injuries from Gotham activities a/n: got this idea while doing my groceries. also decided to change up my theme a bit! enjoy! divider: @kodaswrld

You barely manage to lift out the two heavy grocery bags out of the back of your car, setting them down at your feet. With a heavy sigh, you fish out your keys and struggle to pick the bags up again, cursing under your breath.

»Need help with that?« You jump up at the deep voice behind you, looking to your right before you spot a similar man, close to your age.

»Uh...«

Jason can see the way your wheels are turning in your head, trying to figure out who he is while also thinking over his suggestion. Finally, he decides to help you out. »Jason… Todd. I live next door to you, if you noticed.«

He shrugs and fidgets with his hands inside his jacket pockets, already regretting it. But luckily, you simply light up and nod, glancing down at your bags again.

»Oh, right! No, I know, just needed a moment. Also, I‘d greatly appreciate your help.« Finally a normal person. No, finally a person that isn‘t actively trying to make your life worse. Without another word, the taller man picks the bags up and gets going to the front door of the apartment complex. You unlock the door and let him walk in first, taking notice of his broad back, still mesmerised, even when he‘s wearing a dark leather jacket. At the front of your door, you catch your breath after walking up four stories worth of stairs, needing a moment to compose yourself fully. Jason, however, doesn‘t seem to too exhausted and simply waits for you to open the door.

»Should I put them inside or just leave it here?« He feels rather awkward in this situation but refuses to show it or let himself cringe at his words, wanting to come off as friendly and nice.

»You can put it here, it‘s fine. Thanks, again.« Jason smiles lightly in return and steps back to his apartment door the opposite of yours, stepping in after unlocking it.

Inside, you stash away your groceries and take a small break, eventually slapping yourself for being so awkward with him. How did you not recognise him earlier, by your car? He is your neighbour! As a form of an apology, you settle into your kitchen and start making some baked goods, focusing on making the best cookies and bread you can muster.

After some hours, perfecting your cookies with sprinkles, and carefully wrapping the fresh loaf of bread into a pretty paper, his gift is ready. You put the sweet cookies into a tupperware, wrapping a light lace around it with a bow. Finally satisfied, you take your last wits and step out into the hallway, ringing his doorbell. To say that you‘re nervous puts it pretty well, your palms sweating lightly as you hold the baked good in yours arms. Jason answers his door, not having expected to see you again so soon again. Immediately, he straightens his posture and clears his throat, hoping he doesn‘t look like a mess right now.

»Hey, I just wanted to drop by some sweets after you helped me earlier… thanks again.«

You smile sweetly at him and hold out the loaf of bread with the box of cookies, overwhelming him. Although he doesn‘t see, surprised or shocked, he feels like his legs might give out under him.

»Oh— thanks. You didn‘t need to do all that, though.«

Jason takes the small box and craddles the lkoaf of bread into his arms, noticing how warm it is. You simply smile back, standing there for a moment longer before you awkardly say goodbye. From that moment on, Jason made sure to see you more often during the week and hopefully help you more with mundane stuff like getting your groceries into your apartment.

◐

In general, you didn‘t see Jason often. There were a few occasions you can remember seeing him, and it was extremly underwhelming. Once, you entered the basement with the on laundry day at the same time as him and he left immediately after you entered. You didn‘t think much of it, glad about the fact that you didn‘t have to worry about someone seeing your underwear. Another time was when you parked your car near the building and saw him getting off his bike before walking into the apartment complex before you. Thinking of it, that was approximately a week ago, if not less. Wait, he rides a bike? Maybe you should definitely try to see him more during the day, maybe he isn‘t that bad of a neighbour.

Even though you normally went into the laundry room in the mornnig to avoid people, you just couldn‘t bring it over yourself to get up a few minutes earlier than normally for that. But considering that it‘s rather late in the night, there‘s probably no one in there. Picking out the dirty clothes that need a wash, you walk downstairs into the shared basement and open the heavy door with your back, since your hands are busy with the heavy basket. Walking in, you didn‘t expect to see the same person you were thinking about earlier in the day. With an awkward smile, you pick a free mashine machine and mind your own business. Jason seems to be almost finished with his laundry, throwing in the last piece urgently. He nodded back at your smile, turning his broad back to you as he messes with the settings of the machine.

In the meantime, you throw in your clothes into the free machine, being composed, although you hope that he doesn‘t notice the light tremors in your hands. Why are you so nervous? It‘s not like you two talked more than three words together. Before you could overthink the situation, he leaves the room with a final glance over his shoulder until the room falls into yet another silence. The sounds of his washine machine going off is the only thing that keeps your mind in this reality. Finishing up your task, you can‘t help but be curious. With careful steps, you peer a little into the machine that washes his clothes, only noticing some flashes of red in between the black clothes. Without trying to be creepy, you casually make your way back into your apartment, forgetting about the previous interaction.

◐

Another week, another grocery haul. Exiting out of your car, you manage to put the two heavy bags onto the concrete before you fish out for your keys. This will probably take two trips, silently wishing that you magically grew a pair of biceps like your friendly neighbour has. Sadly, it doesn‘t happen, even after staring at the two grocery bags. With a final sigh, you pick up one of them and don‘t notice the man beside you until you lift your head up. From the surprise, you jump up and let go of your bag, a small gasp leaving you.

»Oh— so sorry, didn‘t mean it! You need help with that?« The black haired man seems just as surprised as you, seemingly guilty for scaring you.

But once again, your brain needs a second to catch up on the situation. Luckily, you nod and smile, rather amused. Either amused at the scare or his guilty expression.

»I was actually waiting for you to appear, so yes. Thanks.«

With a faint smile, Jason picks both bags into his hands and lets you lead the way to your apartment, as if he didn‘t know better. On the way up, he does his best to cover up the light sweat as he carries those groceries for you.

»Jeez, what do you have in there? A ton of bricks for a house?« He blurts out, his voice lightly out of breath. You can‘t help but chuckle at his comment, although you start to feel bad for him. »Stuff someone needs to survive during a week.«

You shrug in response and unlocks your door, not as exhausted as him. He sets the bags down by the door of your apartment, before he slips back into his own home, giving you a smile and a polite goodbye. After sorting through your ingredients, you can‘t help but think about the interaction for the rest of the day, hoping this will happen more often… without the scare.

Unlike last week, you simply bring him an easy recipe for cookies that he gladly takes and studies for the rest of the evening.

◐

Would it be weird for a neighbour to bring over cookies randomly? It was out of your recipe anyways, so you must like it, right? Judging from the last two times, it should be socially accepted to gift your neighbour something to show gratefulness.

Finally, Jason knocks at your door and tries not to fidget with the plastic bag in his hands, filled with cookies that he couldn‘t finish up. Unfortunately for him, the he made too many sweets, but now he has a good excuse to see you. The door opens after a few moments, revealing you in a fuzzy robe, draping over your body like a comfy blanket. Jason almost chokes on his spit and looks down, feeling like he just disturbed your privacy. You on the other hand, chuckle softly before greeting him.

»Good evening. Sorry about my outfit, got comfy.« You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms, ignoring the embarassment. At the same time, Jason composes himself and holds out the bag of cookies and your tupperware from the earlier cookies.

»It‘s fine, I tried your recipe and made too much. Hope you like them.« You take the gift with a grateful smile and look back up at him. You nod, trying to say something to keep the short interaction going.

»Thanks. So, you also like baking? I was hoping I didn‘t make you confused with it.«

Jason shakes his head with a faint smile, fidgeting with his hands briefly, before stuffing them into his pockets. »No, I like baking. Used to make cupcakes when I was younger, it‘s the time that keeps getting lesser these days.«

You get the struggle of having not enough time for yourself. Now that you think of it, you realise that he probably sacrficised time for these cookies. You smile back at him, keeping the cookies in your hands.

◐

It was like any other night shift for you, returning back inside your apartment complex early in the morning, with an aching body. The keys jingle in your hands as you go up the last few stairs into your story. As another yawn escapes you, you don‘t notice the other person in the hallway at the door opposite of yours.

Jason pauses and glances to his side of the sound of footsteps, staying frozen on his spot for another moment. Finally, your eyes focus on him and you give him a brief nod. He nods back, albeit slightly confused.

»Nightshift?« Judging by your rather formal clothes that remind him of work uniform, that‘s the only conclusion he comes up with. You nod in response, standing by your door. His leather jacket is in his arm, seemingly hiding something underneath it, or maybe your brain just makes things look weird after staying up for so long.

»You too?« Jason nods after a brief pause, glancing back down at his hand with his house key.

»Yeah… gonna rest up now.«

After saying goodbye, you return to your flat and pass out on your bed in a matter of seconds.

Moments like these happened more often where you both came back home at the same time or did your laundry in each other‘s company. Your conversations consisted of some small talk, sharing recipes together, and Jason made sure to bring your groceries up every week. It was fun and refreshing to have a helpful and nice neighbour like that. Especially if he has a few extra muscles that seem totally unecessary on him. Either way, you admire his workout routine, whatever it is, that he does.

Another night shift, another exhausted mind and insane craving for your bed. What you didn‘t expect to see was a vigilante by your door. Well, opposite of your door.

You both pause, a light gasp of shock escaping you as you stand there, frozen. Red Hood doesn‘t move as well, staring back at you silently until he finally clears his throat.

»Uh… do you know where Jason Todd is?«

His voice is rough and more raspy due to the modulator of the helmet, making you tense further. You process his words and shake you head quickly, glancing at Jason‘s door briefly.

»What? I- no, I didn‘t see him lately at all. Don‘t know where he went last month.«

A silence follows in the corridor, hoping that he believes you. Unexpectetly, he nods and makes his way past you, although with some distance.

»Good night, miss.« He mumbles, although the voice changer makes it sounds rather sinister. It seems like he doesn‘t notice, leaving you be and walks down the stairs in a hurry. You release a heavy sigh and watch his back until you hurry inside your apartment and lock your door, just in case.

You manage to fall asleep after pacing in your room, overthinking the situation. Is Jason in danger? Should you check up on him now? Considering that it‘s past four in the morning, that‘s a bad idea. Exhaling, you take a shower and eventually fall asleep afterwards.

You don‘t see Jason the next day in the laundry room, making you even more concerned. Luckily, you catch him next week as you walk out of your place to leave for the store.

»Jason! I need to talk to you for a moment.« You urge him lightly, stepping closer to him in the hallway. He stops and stares down at you, already tense. He doesn‘t know what to expect, ready to pull you inside his apartment and blackmailing you, so you won‘t reveal his identity to someone else… or worse, the media. But to his surprise, you feel concerned and look concerned.

»Listen, I get it if it‘s uncomfortable for you, but are you in danger? Because...« you hesitate, trying not to scare him, »Because I saw Red Hood at your door a week ago and he— he asked for you. Obviously I lied and told him you were gone since last month, but… do you need help?«

He listens to your small rant, seeing the worry on your face as clear as day. After thinking and contemplating in his mind, he pretends to be two people.

»I… you know, no one can know about this, but… he‘s actually a nice guy, just seems intimidating. He checks up on me a few times a year, but trust me, he isn‘t bad.«

He explains calmly, hoping to reassure you. The elder lady that lives above you comes down the stairs, seemingly noisy about the whispering in the stairwell. Jason notices and gently guides you inside, hand on your shoulder. Finally, inside and without any prying eyes, he goes on.

»Did he scare you?« This time, he seems worried as his eyes meet yours again. You shake your head, then nod, wanting to be honest.

»A bit… his voice just scared me.« He nods in understanding and lets go of your shoulder, glancing around his flat briefly.

»Want tea? It‘s the least I can do.«

That‘s how you settle onto his couch and drink tea together, taking your mind off the worrying topic with more mundane things.

◐

After getting to know more about Jason and why he knows Red Hoood, you feel calmer but also slightly more alert. Whenever you walk back home, you make sure to watch the rooftops, wanting to catch a glimpse of Red Hood, in case he patrols or goes to visit Jason again. Sadly, you don‘t see him, and find yourself wishing that he would appear someday again. Preferably at Jason‘s door, so you can escape into your apartment in case of an emergency.

Luckily, you catch him as you come back home after another long nightshift. You narrow your eyes at him, stopping in front of him as you take him in. The red guy seemingly stares back at you, exhaling lightly.

»Not scared this time, miss?« He sees you shake your head before untensing. He hums lightly under his breath, leaning up against the wall by Jason‘s door.

»Nightshift? Jason told me about your hard work.« He tries his best to pretend being another person as he stays casually leaned against the wall, arms crossed. You seemingly perk up shortly as he mentions your neighbour, eventually composing yourself afterwards.

»Did he? Well...you better take good care of him, I need him to carry my groceries.« Little did you know that Jason feels way more confident under his helmet, taking a few steps closer.

»Yeah? Such a big girl and you still need help with such things?«

You watch as he steps closer to you, but you don‘t get easily swoon over with his confident cockiness.

»Well, some girls like getting help with that. You should know that yourself, aren‘t you a vigilante?«

Jason explained the duties of Red Hood to you on the same evening when you had tea together. Now you‘re using his words against him, in a way he didn‘t expect. Red Hood pauses and blinks, coming off as stunned with his blank helmet. Finally, he steps back, raising his hands up in the air.

»Don‘t need to get cheeky there. Just wanted to tease ya.« He tries to save it, but once again, it falls on deaf ears as you walk past him to your door.

»Just do your job.« Is the last thing you say before you walk into your place, leaving him specheless in the hallway. Seems like you actually buy his act of being two seperate people. With a final nod, he enters his own apartment and wonders how long he can keep the act going.

◐

You visit Jason the day after, sitting on his couch as you talk his ears off about anything.

»Yeah— and then he stepped closer and just straight up insulted me. He thinks I‘m weak!« You complain to him as he prepares two cups of tea in his kitchen, smiling to himself as you talk.

»I‘m sure he didn‘t mean it like that.« He shrugs as he carefully walks over and hands you the sweet tea you seem to love.

»Still… he‘s a bit weird.« You mumble against the rim of the mug, making Jason grin more amused to himself. He leans further back against the couch, warming his hands up against his own cup of tea. A comfortable silence stretches between you as you simply sit beside each other, occaisonally sipping on your hot tea.

You sit up straighter, focusing on the flash of bright red underneath a pile of clothes at the armchair. Without trying to assume much, you glance subtly at Jason before you speak up.

»Is that his helmet?« He perks up beside you and looks up to where your eyes are focused on. Instead of immediately agreeing and covering it up, he watches you and stays calm, trying to predict how you‘ll react.

»Huh… yeah.«

You quirk an eyebrow at his response, finally looking back at him beside you. Your eyes narrow and you lean back into the couch, trying to say something to find out more.

»And.. he just left? Without his mask?«

»Mhmm.« Jason hums back in agreement, although he doesn‘t seem too convinced of himself. In reality, he feels extremly bad for lying right into your face the entire time. So, he stopped trying. It feels like you won‘t react too dramatic anyway, he hacked your phone and find out that you didn‘t tell anyone about any of this in the first place. In short, he thinks you are trustworthy, after doing his usual researching. Besides, it‘s hard to get rid of you anyway, considering you live right next door to him.

»Right...« You sigh out, finally putting two and two together, but won‘t voice it yet, being too nervous. Until he finally speaks up, leaning up this time.

»You know, I‘m surprised you believed me for this long.«

The tension finally snapped, making you relax but also grow excited.

»I knew you were the same guy all along! You both speak the same way.« You exclaim with a relieved smile, making him tilt his head in light disagreement.

»If you only saw me talking to muggers...« Jason mutters before he takes a sip of his tea.

It feels refreshing to trust someone with his identity outside of the whole vigilante and work area. Especially with someone so pretty.

←MASTERLIST

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Epilogue

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 9 minutes

Previous

MASTERLIST

The soft clink of keys echoed in Y/n's hand as she walked up the stairs to her apartment, a small smile tugging at her lips. She held the neatly wrapped package close, her heart fluttering with anticipation. Inside was a copy of her apartment key, tied with a simple ribbon, tucked into a little box. It wasn't just a key, it was a gesture, an invitation for Jungkook to step back into her life fully.

Living with Jungkook again the weeks that Jimin stayed in his apartment only confirmed to her louder that was the man she wanted for her. Something he said during those weeks stayed with her, until she finally found herself sure enough to do it, seeing the perfect opportunity during one of her days off. Jungkook had been cautious, hesitant to fully let his guard down, but this time, she wanted to show him that she wasn't going anywhere, and she wanted him to feel the same.

As she unlocked her door, she paused for a moment, glancing down the hall. The memories of the past months lingered, silent exchanges, stolen glances, and the heavy weight of words left unsaid. But now, things were different. They had fought their battles, both separately and together, and it felt like they were finally standing on solid ground.

She placed the small package on the counter, running her fingers over the ribbon before sending Jungkook a quick text:

Y/n: Will you take too long to come?

Jungkook: I'm working... Why? Did something happen?

Y/n: No... I just thought you'd be here early.

Earlier that morning, Jungkook kept saying how he was going to do anything he could to be home soon with her. Actually, it took her thirty minutes to convince him to go to work, until he finally gave in, the pout almost disappearing completely as he got himself ready and headed outside after pecking her lips.

Jungkook: Something came up last minute...

Jungkook: I might take a longer while to get back home, baby

Y/n puckered her lips, letting that message settle, until a new idea came up. If he couldn't come to her, she'd come to him.

Y/n hummed softly to herself, feeling a giddy rush of excitement as she headed toward the gym. The small package containing the spare key to her apartment sat snugly in her bag, wrapped neatly with a note attached: "For when you need to come home."

As much as she wanted to shut her thoughts, there was something off in the way he changed plans last minute. He wasn't one to avoid her without reason.

As she pushed open the heavy glass doors of the gym, the familiar scent of sweat and rubber mats greeted her. She scanned the room for Jungkook but only saw Jimin behind the reception desk, organizing paperwork.

—Hey, Y/n! —Jimin greeted, looking up with a smile.

—Hey —she responded, glancing around—. Where's Jungkook? He said he was busy, but... I don't see him here.

Jimin hesitated, his expression flickering with something she couldn't quite place.

—He left a little while ago. Didn't say much, just that he had something to take care of.

—Right... —Y/n's excitement dimmed slightly— Did he say where he was going?

—Not really —Jimin shook his head—, but... maybe he needed a break. He's been pushing himself a lot lately.

—Yeah, I know —Y/n nodded, agreeing that Jungkook had been working extra hard.

Ever since he left the boxing parties, keeping that gym to float has been a tough job, taking him almost a few months to take it outside from the hole it was in. They both knew it was going to be difficult, they both knew it'd take a lot of work and effort, but the calmness from living without dangers was something Jungkook, at least, wouldn't change.

—He said that the thing he needed to work on was related to the gym though —she quickly noted, her eyebrow raising.

—Right —he pointed at her—. That's exactly what I meant. Needed a break from the gym as the space, not the business per se.

Jimin noticed the package she was holding, quickly using it to change the topic before he dug his hole deeper.

—Is that for him?

—I don't know —she narrowed her eyes—. We'll see when he gets back home.

—I messed up, didn't I?

Y/n nodded, a bitter smile on her face.

—Can you not tell him it was me though? —Jimin asked, spotting her starting to walk away— Y/n? Your boyfriend gets scary when he's angry... Y/n?

She didn't react, nor answer, instead she walked fast outside.

As she turned to leave, her mind raced. Jungkook had been acting distant since he left the house, but she hadn't expected him to disappear like that. She needed to find him, not just to give him the key, but to make sure he was okay.

Determined, she stepped outside, glancing down the street. She didn't know where he was, but one thing was certain, she wasn't giving up on him.

Y/n's feet ached from walking all day. She had searched every place she thought Jungkook might be: parks, coffee shops, even a few quiet corners of the city where they once spent time together. But there was no sign of him.

As the sun began to set, exhaustion weighed her down. She sighed, deciding it was time to give up for the day and head home. Maybe Jungkook just needed space. She wasn't sure how much more space she could give when her heart was already stretched thin.

Climbing the stairs to her apartment, she felt a twinge of defeat. She unlocked the door, setting down the small package with the spare key on her counter. The thought of giving it to him now felt distant, like a dream that was slipping away.

Just as she sank into her couch, the doorbell rang. Her heart leapt. She practically ran to the door, yanking it open.

There he was.

Jungkook stood there, his hands in his pockets, his lips pressed together, making his dimples show up immediately after. Neither of them spoke for a moment, the silence between them thick with unspoken emotions. He smiled, trying to ease the air between them, not knowing that the tension she had been carrying only went worse after he smiled like that.

He was expecting to have her smiling back and kissing his lips, not smacking his arm and calling him out like she was doing.

—Where were you? —she called him out— You didn't answer my calls... I looked everywhere.

—I know, Jimin called me —he murmured, guilt flickering in his eyes—. I didn't mean to make you worry. It's just... something came up.

When she stopped to look at him, she could notice how damaged he was. She scanned him, from head to toe, trying to guess what could've happened to him to end that way.

His hair was a mess, his clothes slightly wrinkled, and there was a suspicious smudge of dirt across his cheek.

—What happened to you? —Y/n blinked, trying to understand how he ended up that way.

He gave her a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his head.

—You're not going to believe the day I had.

—Try me.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, almost identical to hers.

—I was trying to get a copy of my key made for you.

—What? —her eyes widened in disbelief.

—Yeah —he groaned—. But everything went wrong. First, the key machine at the hardware store broke down while I was there. Then, I tried another store, but they lost power right as they were about to make it. And finally, when I found a locksmith, he locked himself out of his own shop! Then I went to another shop, and it was closed.

—The curse of the key —Y/n tried to stifle her laughter, but it bubbled out uncontrollably.

—Don't even mention that thing —he stepped inside, his hands on his hips—. I wish I was kidding —Jungkook said, shaking his head with a huff—. It was like the universe didn't want me to get this key made. I even got chased by a dog because I accidentally dropped the key near his food bowl.

She doubled over, clutching her stomach as she laughed.

—Are you sure you didn't make a guest appearance in a cartoon?

—Ha ha, so funny —he mocked her—. I could've died today.

—You're right, you're right —she nodded, eventually shifting her laughter to a smile—. My baby, you had an awful day. Was the dog that chased you big?

—Hmm... I think it was a Chihuahua now that I'm thinking it better —he admitted—. But you should've seen the way it ran toward me.

Her hands cupped his cheeks, trying to get his focus again.

—I spent all day looking for you to give you my key!

Jungkook furrowed, tilting his head confused.

—You too?

—Hmm —she nodded—. I got it done in a place near my work —she admitted—, I didn't have to go to hell and back to get it.

—Does that mean mine holds a bigger cost?

—Yes, because a Chihuahua chased you —she rolled her eyes.

—It was scary. You have no idea the foam that was coming out of its mouth —he added, disgusted.

Keeping her from arguing further, his hand reached for the back of her neck, pulling her in for a tight hug.

—Kook.

—Hmm?

—You stink —she mumbled against his chest.

Instead of letting her go away, he pushed her harder against his chest, making sure she'd take in all of his scent, earning a cackle from her.

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face when she finally stepped back.

—Well, how about we exchange keys?

They both handed each other the small boxes, similar in shape but different in color: Jungkook's being an electric blue, while Y/n's was a passionate red.

—Now I'll be able to step here whenever you want —he sighed.

—You already do that —she narrowed her eyes.

—Without you having to open the door for me, I mean.

As much as she felt tempted to snap back, she could only roll her eyes and smile, snuggling in for another hug.

—I love you. Thank you —she whispered.

—I love you more —he kissed her temple, squeezing her body tight.

As they slowly faded into a comfortable silence, Jungkook and Y/n stood in the middle of the living room, holding each other's keys while their bodies were pressed together.

The weight of the past months seemed lighter now, almost laughable. In their hands, were more than just keys: they were symbols of trust, commitment, and a shared future. Without needing to say a word, they both knew that this was a fresh start, built on everything they had endured together. Ready to be open, to be everything the other needed, ready to complement each other and be one.

Jungkook had spent so much time running from what he believed was a curse, an anti-romantic fate destined to ruin anything good in his life. He dodged love, fought against vulnerability, and convinced himself that keeping Y/n at a distance was the only way to protect her. Yet, no matter how far he ran, every road led back to her. Standing there with her key in his hand, he finally understood: there was no curse, no fate to fear. The only thing he'd been escaping was his own fear of happiness. And now, with Y/n by his side, there was nothing he wanted more than to spend every day proving that love wasn't something to run from, it was something to embrace.

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

[monowritestoomuch]

I Know I’d Take My Heart Clean Apart If It Helps Yours Beat

Day 7:

Fandom: Obsidian Lantern: Merfolk

Theme: Hurt/Comfort. Listener tells Zef why they are working for Mr. Wood. 

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2044

Notes: SAY IT WITH ME! SONG LYRIC TITLE! Not from EPIC this time though. Do merfolk have eyebrows? I mean, they have hair so I guess they would? Anyway, I love chocolate covered dried bananas. Enjoy, I'm sorry this is so late. 

Zef and Sera had joined you in the cave where you and Zef had first met, reviewing files over Mr. Wood. You had finally gotten somewhere with your research through the files you had been able to obtain. 

Sera had been reviewing some of the papers as well, but he had mostly been reviewing human laws. Most of the laws were from your area, but many of the laws he’d been reviewing were international, or from the Geneva convention. 

When you had asked why he was reviewing laws such as the Geneva convention and other such international laws on violence, he told you how to be able to convict Mr. Wood in Bermuda, he would have to see what human laws Mr. Wood had violated in addition to the Bermuda laws. 

And meanwhile, Zef was playing around and eating your snacks. This time, you’d brought some chocolate covered dried bananas that you’d bought earlier in the week. 

“Clemmy!” Zef called out, arms out on the rocky ground of the small cave. “Clem~” he called again, his tone drawing as if purposefully trying to annoy you. 

“Zef,” Sera sighed tiredly. “Stop that.”

“I’m just trying to get their attention to ask a question!” Zef squawked in mock offense. He bobbed under the water before coming back up. 

You shook your head fondly, putting down the file you’d been reading. “What do you wanna’ ask, Zef?” 

“How did you come to work for Mister Wood?” Zef asked, dropping another few chocolate covered bananas in his mouth. 

Your body froze as your even, calm breaths stopped abruptly. Sera looked up from his documents, holding them in one hand with the other on the rocky floor of the cave keeping him afloat as he gave you a look of concern. 

When you didn’t answer the question after a few moments, Zef spoke up again. “You good Clemmy?” he asked, concern and confusion in his tone. 

You nodded briefly. “I’m fine,” You responded, an invisible weight appearing in your chest. “I just–didn’t expect you to ask a question like that.”

Sera placed the papers he had been holding down onto the cave floor. “Zef makes a good point,” he started, swimming over to where the previously mentioned Merfolk floated. “I too, would like to know. It seems relevant to the case,” he added. 

Although Zef just seemed to be asking out of curiosity, you were nervous to reveal your relationship to the man. He might’ve been your boss, but that wasn’t the only way you knew him, and the way you knew him, you didn’t think the boys would take it very well. 

“Are you sure? I mean–I work for him, but do you need to know how I met him?” You attempted to play off poorly. 

Sera seemed to sense your nervousness, but he could also tell that you weren’t telling the full story, and that wouldn’t work for him. 

“It would be better to know as much as we could about Mister Wood,” Sera explained, his stern gaze meeting yours. “And it would most likely be brought up in our courts when he is to be convicted of his crimes.”

Your nerves only increased as Sera spoke. You logically knew that neither Zef, nor Sera–well, maybe Sera, wouldn’t hate you if you told them. Logically, you knew that, but emotionally? Emotionally, you felt as if they knew how the two of you were connected, that they would despise you for it. 

“Well–” You started, unsure what to say. You knew that whatever you said would lead to yelling and shock, but the eyes and ears were on you now. “When–when I was a child, I was so interested in marine life and biology, and constantly wished to study them even though I lived about three hours away from the closest beachside–” You chuckled to yourself. “And my mother, she wanted to to encourage my curiosity and research, urging me to study what I loved–”

“She sounds lovely,” Zef interrupted, smiling while continuing to nibble on your snacks. 

“Yeah,” You smiled warmly. “She is–and back then, her brother was living close to the coast, starting up his own marine study center,” You continued, taking a breath as your heart thumped loudly in your chest, the invisible weight on it becoming heavier. “And one summer she sent me to my uncle’s place to study and research marine life with him.”

Sera raised an eyebrow in suspicion, as if he had already been catching on to what you’d been trying to avoid stating obviously. 

“At first it was nice,” You continued, hands becoming crossed and grabbing the opposite tricep. “My uncle was stern but not strict and we would study different shells and what caused each shell to be shaped the way they did. He always had me guess what caused those hollow shells with empty caverns to be the way they were.”

Sera’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, before shutting it and locking eyes with you. The expression on his face resembled concealed shock, his eyebrows furrowed in what resembled a wild rage. 

“I went back, summer after summer after summer. Every summer he would become colder somehow, more secretive. At first I would try to ask, but eventually, I would just leave him be,” You continued, wringing your fingers nervously. “And eventually, I went off to college. I got a degree in marine biology and was looking for jobs when my mother suggested–” You paused, waiting for the realization to settle in before stating the obvious. “-that I work for my uncle, here, on the coast.”

Zef’s face dropped from interested and curious to shocked and horrified, floating in the water in stunned silence. He looked as if he had been betrayed, but he hadn’t. You hadn’t betrayed him, and you would never. But in these very moments, you felt as if you had. 

Even Sera stayed silent, his usual stoic facade cracking under the weight of the revelation that had been revealed. 

You sat in silence as you felt their disappointment seep through your skin and bones and into your soul before you spoke again. “At first, It wasn’t even bad, I was doing minor work and even though my. . .my uncle was cold, it wasn’t a bad job. I met Doctor Evander–” You smiled softly, head down and facing the ground, unable to look at your companions. “--and he was nice, a good fella, but my uncle only grew colder. . .”

Your smile dropped and you didn’t look up, not wanting to see the faces of people who thought they could trust you.

“And when he got colder, his patience wore thin, and his anger became. . .stronger and more–more forceful,” You gulped, feeling as if your throat was burning. 

“What do you mean by that?” Sera asked, his voice deep and stern. You avoided his gaze, shame spreading down your face. 

“Clemmy?” Zef’s voice rang in your ears. “Answer Sera’s question. What do you mean by that?”

“I knew–” You sucked in a grateful breath of air. “I knew my uncle had issues–events that happened in the past to change him, although I didn’t know what those were at the time–but he started to take out his anger on his employees–”

“Did he ever raise a hand to you?” Sera questioned sternly, interrupting your shaky response. 

“No-! He–I,” You stuttered briefly. “He never–not to me, my mother would’ve practically murdered him–” You chuckled sullenly at your own remark. “–if he had ever raised a hand to me, but that didn’t excuse others, such as Doctor Evander, from being caught in the crossfire.”

“Clemmy, what does that mean?” Zef asked, his tone now far more manicked and concerned than upset. 

“We would have performance reviews, every week or so, at the end of the week,” You spoke, your voice shaking. “And every week, he–he would grab an employee and degrade them in front of all of us, sometimes even going as far as slapping them–and if they made him–if he was angry enough, he would damage products or materials we used and blame it on us and subtract it from our paychecks,” You responded with a shaky exhale, wishing for the burning in your throat to cease and you refrained from crying.

“Did he ever do that to you?” Sera questioned, his tone stern and without room for argument. 

“Twice, but he only yelled, never hit. After those two times, which was a few years ago, I was his perfect little employee who performed everything up to standard, and because of that, he never focused on me and I was mostly out of his sight–and I stayed near Doctor Evander and he was nice, but Mister Wood always pulled him aside and I would see bruises on his–,” You concluded. “But he never hit me-he never–” 

Sobs wracked your body as you shook, holding yourself in your arms as Sera and Zef watched on in mystified horror. 

“That has got to be illegal!” Zef practically shrieked, his voice rising. 

“Zef!” Sera attempted to shush. “They’re shaking,” he stated. 

“Oh,” Zef uttered, his voice quiet. He frowned, watching you shiver and shake, fat tears falling from your eyes. He swam up next to you and hooped up, sitting on the cave floor. Hw wrapped you in a hug, and although it was wet, you gladly accepted.

“Just because he never hit you, doesn’t make it okay,” Zef affirmed, raising your head to lock your gaze and his. “Oh Clem–why didn’t you tell us this before?”

You were lost for words, sobs as your only answer. Sera watched on, guilt hanging heavy in his chest. 

“I had previously asked what their relationship was to Mister Wood, and they told me that they were just an employee,” Sera stated, looking at the pair of you and Zef. “But they lied, and maybe they thought of what we’d think of them if we knew.” 

“Oh Clemmy!” Zef cried. “Did you think we’d hate you?” 

“I thought–” You sniffed. “I thought you would leave me here–leave me with–with this–with, oh with–” 

“With Mister Wood?” Sera asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded as a response. “I would never leave anyone with such a man, especially now when I see how he treats family.”

“We’ll always be here for you, Clemmy,” Zef smiled. “Even if you don’t believe it right now, we’ll always be here for you, here to catch you when you stumble or fall, or when you’re stuck on a boat in the middle of a storm or–” 

“Whenever you need to ask for help,” Sera added, swimming over and placing a wet hand on your arm. “We will be here.”

“And we could never, ever hate you,” Zef added in finality, smiling at you. He let you out of the hug, hopping back into the water, but still facing you. 

You sniffed. “Thanks guys, that means a lot.” 

“Anytime Clemmy, anytime,” Zef offered genuinely, smiling wide. 

You laughed, sniffling. “Guess I’m all wet now.”

“Oooo, yeah, that’s my bad–” Zef cringed, hissing at his own revelation. 

“How about we reconvene here tomorrow? Give some time to process, no?” Sera suggested. 

“I’d like that,” You admitted, standing up and grabbing your documents whilst Sera put his in a large ziploc baggie, courtesy of Zef. 

“Bye Clemmy!” Zef waved. “See you tomorrow!” He ducked under the water, taking your precious chocolate covered banana chips with him. 

Sera collected his things before speaking to you. “What you did today, you shouldn’t be ashamed,” he stated, his voice somehow softer than you’d ever heard it previously. “If you ever need help, and I am serious. If you ever need my help, do not hesitate to tell me. I will help you. You deserve to be treated well.”

You stood in stunned silence with your belongings as Sera took a large breath. “Take care of yourself, I mean it,” he finished, ducking under the water with the ziploc covered documents.

You stood in the cave briefly, a warm feeling spreading across your chest, taking off the heavy invisible weight that had stood prior. 

In those next moments, you walked out of the cave, somehow feeling better and lighter than you had in years. 

[umbracirrus]

WIP Wednesday 💛

Wednesday again already... And happy new year to everyone <3

Here's a snippet from the next chapter of The Perfect Storm, which I'm hoping to get out over the coming days, hopefully before I return to work next week!

Tagged by @hircines-hunter and @skyrim-forever! Thank you! Now... One of my new year's resolutions is to try and stop overthinking things (as much), and one of the things I always seem to overthink is tagging people back in these WIP posts. So I'm going to tag quite a few lovely people who I have interacted with recently! No obligations to post anything of course, but know that I'm smooching and hugging you all <3 Tagging @thequeenofthewinter, @oblivions-dawn, @illumiera, @pocket-vvardvark, @bougainvillea-and-saltwater, @moriche, and I've no doubt forgotten people, so I'm tagging anyone else who wants to share a WIP!

------

Just as he would sometimes find himself doing on his throne in Dragonsreach, he found himself beginning to watch the people in the inn as he made his way through his drink. Mikael, as usual, was playing music on a flute, though appeared to have fierce competition in Jon Battle-Born who happened to have a drum with him. Carlotta Valentia and her daughter appeared to be having a meal together. And Sinmir… Divines, Sinmir. He was loudly complaining about the guards of the city and casting him brief glances as he did so – just as he would do on the occasions he would visit Dragonsreach. He didn’t know what sort of issue he had with Caius, but the complaints had only started happening once Caius became captain of the guard… it didn’t take much to guess that there was something going on between the two of them.

Thankfully, his attention was drawn away from all of that when a shadow began to loom over the table he was sat at.

A throat cleared to his side, and Balgruuf almost chuckled at the predictability of his housecarl as she glared down at him. “I am not a child who needs escorting or watching at all times,” he stated, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms over, finger lightly tapping at the rim of the bottle he was holding.

“No, you are a Jarl who has had numerous threats against his life over recent months, and needs to start damn well acting like it and allowing me to do my job!”

His brow creased as he glanced at her, before moments later, Saadia approached the table with the two drinks he had ordered earlier. He thanked her, before gesturing for Irileth to sit. “I am also not an idiot, going somewhere that my housecarl couldn’t anticipate, but nor would I dare to disturb your time with my brother when you both seem so happy together. Now sit yourself down and rest for a moment, I knew that you would be arriving so already ordered you a drink.”

The scowl across Irileth’s face was quick to shift to eyes blown wide with surprise, before she quietly huffed and sat down. She reached out for the bottle closest to her, wrapped her hand around its neck, and after a moment of staring at it, she brought it to her lips. Once she placed it back down on the table, she let out a sigh. “And since when did you know?”

“I’ve had an inkling for a while. And as I am sure that you know, Hrongar isn’t exactly the best at subtlety.”

A quiet snort escaped her. “Well, you’re not wrong there.” Irileth seemed to start relaxing at that point, her shoulders not as square as they had been previously, and there being a slight recline in her posture. “He said that he would be along soon enough. I take it that the other drink is for him?”

“Aye.”

[occasionaltouhou]

regular touhou #17: aunn asks for help whilst looking for the missing reimu

[xxplastic-cubexx]

May I offer you a hastily drawn picture to wish you a good get-through-the-week? :3

HELLO ??????? HELLO hot gluing this to my eyes IMMEDIATELY thank you so much i feel myself becoming stronger already

[dawnthefluffyduck]

New game interest unlocked

(crow in bottom right belongs to @patchwork-crow-writes)

[lapinpuff]

Get sorta sad when I open tmbg youtube comments and they're despairing about how old the Johns look now or (when it's an older video) saying like "I miss how Flans looked here :("

like Idk man they are 65 years old and ageing is a gift and people are not on this planet for you to lust over. Although the last part is still very possible for um some of us ^w^