#posting this in the morning instead of the evening like usual... yeah maybe i did my watch last night and got too sleepy to post!

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 12 "war of the coprophages" thoughts

ha! a post at a different time than usual! you didn’t see this coming, did you? well i like to keep you guessing

do you hate bugs? if so, this may not be the episode for you!

(based on the poll i have running, i’m going to try putting a “read more” thingy on this post. please let me know if this enhances your experience. what a cruel thing to only think of 3 seasons in…)

disclaimer on the formatting of this blog aside, let us jump in, straight from the moments right before i clicked the play button.

okay, so last episode will be a hard act to follow, given that it was my new favorite episode. BUT i think i’ve seen that this episode is a fan favorite?? i think?? so we shall see…

trying to go in with no expectations at all. not even one. just let the story take me where it goes.

but i thought i did see something about this episode referring to a mulder ex?? not sure i can deal with that again at this point in my life. not after phoebe. still haunted by that arthur conan doyle thing.

it's bug time in massachusetts. learn some bug facts with this kindly looking fellow. 

i love academics who are really into things like bugs. i love when they love funny creatures. WAIT HE STEPPED ON IT!! that was cruel??? maybe he is not a kindly fellow after all…

okay, i THOUGHT this dude was teaching a class on science, but he’s an exterminator... LMAOOOOOO they got me with that gag

so he’s putting down a new pesticide to kill the cockroaches. always risky business, those pesticides.

he sprayed the bug with the stuff and then stomped on it and it seems like he started choking?? is he messing with some dangerous poison here??? pesticides scare me…. 

the bugs are pouring out of surfaces and onto him and it is making my skin craaaaawl!!!

oh, a cricket now graces our screen! a pleasant creature. on mulder’s windshield? he went up to massachusetts for the weekend! but not for family reasons. for alien reasons.

scully is cleaning her gun and talking to him on the phone while he looks up at the sky. it’s quite charming <3

“look scully, i know it’s not your inclination, but did you ever look up into the night sky and feel certain that not only was something up there, but it was looking down on you at the exact same moment, and was just as curious about you as you are about it?” <- ohhhh he’s waxing poetic. ohhh what does the massachusetts bring out in this man?

scully is going on about how she thinks the real fascinating truth is that life exists here on this planet at all, and uses the word “anti-darwinian”… and he asks what she is wearing??? she laughs at this 

(i actually really liked her little monologue here and would copy it down, but i want to see what happens next)

he references planet of the apes and they both understand it, which means they have both seen a movie that i have not. sad!

a bright light shines on him and he says he has to go, so he hangs up. way to freak her out!

it’s a cop. he asks what mulder is doing. “just sitting, thinking” LMAOOOO they hate to see a man who ponders

the cop asks for his ID after implying he is on drugs, and then is gagged when he pulls out his FBI badge. and then all of a sudden he’s a “sir”... okay. only getting respect AFTER the occupation reveal. not the most morally outstanding thing...

the cop asks why he has his windshield wipers on and he’s like oh, just knocking a bug off, and the officer reaches for his gun??? and asks if the bugs he is referring to were cockroaches. he’s like… maybe? or maybe a beetle?? “i’m not really good with bugs” LMAOOO

then the cop leaves when he says there is a roach attack. oh?

scully is trying to just enjoy a meal and some tv when he calls and says that she needs to get up here because “it appears that cockroaches are mortally attacking people”, to which she replies “i’m not going to ask you if you just said what i think you just said, because i know it’s what you just said”, which would also be my response to this information!

(she has flowers on her glass of water. it’s quite pretty)

anyway. bodies with roaches. (nicki voice) ROACHESSSS!

oh, they’re very scientific up there in this town, all the people who were victims/witnesses were expert scientists... hmm. any roach scientists?

the guy whose house was being exterminated says he sees cockroaches when he closes his eyes, and he can’t sleep!! that is very concerning.

scully says it might be an allergic reaction to roaches that killed this dude, and this seems to please mulder as an answer, or at least bide him enough time to let her stay the night at her place. and when the cop asks who was on the phone, he says “my drug dealer” <- hahahaha get his ass

in this next scene, i at first thought people were doing some science, but it seems these are teenagers that are doing drugs. and whatever it is has a cockroach crawling in it?

OHHHH OHHHH NO. A COCKROACH JUST CRAWLED INTO AN OPEN WOUND ON THIS KID'S HAND. OHHHH IS THIS GONNA BE A BODY HORROR EPISODE??? BLECKKK this was not what i was expecting after many jokes!! 

he’s scratching and scratching and i literally cannot look. i heard him yell “get them out of me” but i am already light headed and we shall leave it at this.

cut to scully cam. her dog is getting a bath!!! with anti-flea shampoo….. does the creature have bugs or is she just being very cautious? not sure if more bugs would be an auspicious sign. good to see the dog again, i’ve missed him. what a cute little fellow. he whines. 

of course her phone rings when she is covered in soap!!

mulder says she better get up there. the kid is dead. and there were very much drugs at the scene, but mystery drugs.

she says that sometimes people who are high can imagine bugs in their skin- it’s called ekbom’s syndrome. again, love when she knows this stuff. and he says that she is probably right, and she doesn’t really have to come up. “sorry to bother you”, he says, and she says “it’s no bother” into the phone with a smile. 

but the dog!!! he has run away!!! still covered in soap!! naughty little fellow.

back a the scene of the crime. a roach has been caught. mulder somehow squished it. but the exoskeleton was made of metal?? OH! his hand is bleeding!!!

GET HIS HANDS CLEAN NOW!!!

is this some sort of future cockroach that has developed advanced resistance to eradication efforts?? like the darwinian stuff scully was talking about earlier???

he is still bleeding. at the doctor. and the doctor wants to know what the hell is going on. mulder doesn’t know. and the sheriff asks the same thing!!! many are wondering.

doctor goes to the bathroom and a roach approaches. NO NO NO I SEE WHERE THIS IS GOING AND I HATE IT NOOOO. 

“i see the correlation, but just because i work for the federal government doesn’t mean i’m an expert on cockroaches” mulder!!!! what a way to speak of your coworkers! hahaha

oh!! someone has been doing experiments in the town!! this dude says killer bees were an accident, and maybe these cockroaches are something similar- is that true about the bees??? need to fact check. OH MY GOSH IT IS??? what the hell. what a scary world we live in.

so the doctor is dead. he was covered in cockroaches when he was found dead, but now they are gone? except for one on the sink. that one falls down the drain.

back to scully cam. she’s reading truman capote’s breakfast at tiffany’s!!! she picks up the phone with “who died now?” LMAOOO

she says it was probably a brain aneurysm that killed the doctor, and it looks like it was. cutscene to him jumping into the secret area.

scully at home, looking up cockroaches on a… laptop? with her glasses on <3 and eating ice cream right out of the carton. honestly queen shit!!! her hypothesis: new cockroach species…?

“mulder, you’re not thinking about trespassing onto government property again, are you?” she asks, while he is at the door LMAOOOO 

“i know that you’ve done it in the past” <- yeah, he is a repeat offender. her tone here was so funny, too. trying to gently talk him out of it.

“it’s too late, i’m already inside” HAHAHA

(deep resigned scully sigh) “well, what’s going on? what do you see?” this exchange says so much about them <3 if he's gonna get his ass in trouble, he at least better describe to her in great detail what is going on

he is giving her a full walk through of this place, which looks like a normal house except the moving walls. until the roaches burst through.

and someone turns a light on! he says he has to go. see, that is exactly when i would want someone to be on the phone with me, when a mysterious entrance is made.

so we see dr. berenbaum. i guess she was at home alone, but damn, they are really trying to show off her chest.

“what’s a woman like you doing in a place like this?” he asks. gag (and not in the slay kinda way, in the "please stop mulder, you're making me cringe" kinda way)

OHHH scully is still staring at the phone… is she contemplating or did he forget to hang up?? does she have to listen to all of this? another case of her being god's strongest soldier if she has to hear this.

and in the next scene, dr. berenbaum has buttoned her flannel. it is differently buttoned in the next cut.

WAIT. she’s talking about UFOs. she thinks they are really insect swarms. this seems like a trap to lure mulder into some trouble, by getting him distracted...

she’s saying something about loving insects. so now we get a REAL academic who loves bugs!

LMAOOOO the phone rings and he answers it only to say “not now”, ohhh he wants her bad. he says that he finds insects to be very interesting. LMAOOOOOO an absolute LIAR!! just after she said she loves bugs for being honest. mulder is not immune to lying to women to make them like him. a cardinal sin! just be yourself, man!

at a motel room, a cockroach is approaching another guy’s feet. and he’s scratching at himself and i see where it’s going and i’m NOT LOOKING. i can’t bear it. 

mulder waking up. in. a bed? did they hookup??? oh i don't need to imagine that.

no, seems he is by himself, in the motel. which is good. i don't need that kind of energy in my life. 

he opens his eyes and immediately calls scully. who was sleeping with the phone on her pillow to be there if he called again. AWWWW. she is so thoughtful.

she does not seem to be enjoying that the scientist is a woman, and also that her name is bambi, which like. okay, i get that. bambi is kinda wild as a name, lmaooo. she cannot believe it. no offense to any bambis reading this, you are deeply valued. he's babbling about bambi and bugs and her parents were both naturalists, and dude, shut upppp

“scully, can i confess something to you?” he asks

(scully is visibly cringing, with pain in her voice) “yeah sure, okay!” <- LMAOOOO she was prepared for the worst!!! but ready to try and be supportive no matter what!! that is friendship! this moment was sosososososo cute. she was bracing herself for the worst but still trying to be kind. she did NOT wanna hear about his antics with this bambi!! and i do not blame her!!!

he says “i hate insects”, and she tries to comfort him saying lots of people are afraid of them!!! because that is a good friend who sleeps next to the phone waiting for your call, even after you mysteriously hang up on her!!!

! MULDER LORE REVEAL ! he was terrified of a praying mantis as a child. they look like aliens. he was repulsed by the mysteries of the natural world. we can unpack that at another time.

he says that it “wasn’t a girly scream” that he let out as a child, and she asks if he was sure LMAOOOOO 

she’s so funny i SWEAR. they need to call more late at night/very early in the morning just to make fun of each other but also do their very best to support each other.

but! a loud screaming in the distance. he hangs up the phone again and she rolls her eyes. 

discovery: that the dude seen in the hotel earlier was covered in cockroaches. also, he is dead.

mulder at the scene with his JEANS ON, NO SHIRT, BELT UNBUCKLED????

wait. we need to unpack this. was he SLEEPING in jeans??????? holy fuck... we need to lock this man UP, that is CRAZY!

anyway, the cockroaches that were just on that guy's body are gone. so they just disappeared somehow. not as crazy as a man sleeping in jeans, but it is up there.

she’s getting her stuff to come up there now. and i like that we get to see into her place, her little kitty on the desk, her two giant bookshelves. maybe i tried to pause and read what was on there, any maybe i had no luck!

also, now she’s on the phone with him explaining the mysterious death, and he’s clothed. he must have saw the dead body and realized he had time to change.

mulder seems to think that this dude had a heart attack. and all of scully’s theories have seemed correct. but that doesn’t explain the metal exoskeletons, which he had NOT mentioned before, and leaves her gagged.

“mulder, i’m coming up there” “whatever”, he says, as he sneaks onto the ground, to catch a roach!!! petulant child of a man.

cut to bambi, analyzing the cockroaches. with mulder pressed veeeeery close to her face. and the cockroach is… hung? but they are actually robots??? so this robot cockroach has that as a design. interesting. 

turns out, a guy who makes bug robots lives in town. so mulder is off to visit. and we see a little one walk by!!! about the size of a roomba or small dog. mulder seems enchanted by it, following it in. it's a very cute little guy. i politely request 10 of them.

dr. ivanov is the fellow behind all this. they’re trying to make AI robots by making them bugs. interesting strategy. if only AI was used to make cute little dog-sized robot bugs in our age...

the robots are following mulder about. dr. ivanov says the bug robot likes him!!! aww

the goal of this research is that they want to send the bugs to space!!!! to explore alien civilizations! and that if aliens visit our planet, they will also be robots. if you think otherwise, you have been brainwashed by sci-fi. scalding hot takes coming from dr. ivanov here.

interesting to see two separate takes on what aliens/UFOs actually are in this episode from someone other than mulder.

these roomba or small dog sized bug robots are soooo cute, not at all like those real looking cockroaches.

ugh! i just realized they probably had to get a TON of roaches on set to film all this. and they were probably crawling about…. euGhHhh

he asks dr. ivanov to identify the bug legs. and dr. ivanov looks terrified. he says it is beyond his comprehension...??

and then a cockroach walks across the screen? it looks like it’s walking right on the camera. i had to replay to see if it was supposed to be walking along their faces, but no, it’s completely flat, right on you, the viewer’s screen, which i’m sure made a lot of people jump!!!

the grocery store is being looted for all things, even chocolate and pantyhose. someone crashes a car, and someone else slams into scully, who looks IMMENSELY displeased.

scully just wants a damn map, but one person is saying that roaches are eating people whole, then another person says they’re spreading ebola. the misinformation panic can produce!

she starts yelling in the convenience store, and people mostly calm down. queen of controlling the situation. until someone knocks over some candy that sort of kind of looks like roaches if you squint and the stampede resumes. 

LMAO SHE TAKES ONE OF THE CANDIES. 

dr. ivanov and mulder are drinking whisky??? okay, boys night i guess. he finds a real looking roach on the way out. and starts talking to it.

he brings it to bambi and she confirms it’s a real cockroach.

scully calls, saying this town is insane. and that she has a lead! the alternative fuel researcher brought various animal dungs in, which could have started an infestation. and she says “maybe you can confirm this with your dr. bambi” and there is a sort of venom in there that has me giggling. get his ass queen.

oh, and now he’s going on about aliens. she says he’s been in this town too long. 

HE BRINGS BAMBI TO THE INVESTIGATION??? he says to wait until it’s safe and he’s worried about the human element. DOES HE MEAN SCULLY?? or the researcher...

so poor bambi is just gonna sit in the car i'm crying

it’s the guy who was saying he was seeing cockroaches in his sleep!! and who found the first body, of the exterminator!!! he’s in there spraying stuff on a cockroach and it doesn’t do anything.

sure enough, cockroaches in his dung samples. mulder goes to touch it when this DUDE SHOOTS AT HIM?? his name is dr. eckerle. he says they’re following him. and that the bugs drive him crazy. 

scully rolls up and says “let me guess- bambi” and bambi says “fox told me to wait out here” FOX?? hearing his real name is always such a jumpscare. she loads her gun and says this is no place for an entomologist. OKAYYYY steal his girl!!!

back in the lab, dr. eckerle has mulder at gunpoint. he’s reciting bug facts to distract him.

mulder tries to explain that dr. eckerle hasn’t gone crazy, but then he brings the gun back up to his chest and asks mulder if he’s a cockroach, so. jury’s out on that one. 

scully in da research facility. she can’t find him. so she rings his phone. and dr. eckerle takes this as a sign that he is a cockroach!! he fires his gun in the facility full of methane gas and they have to run run run!! they make it outside and tell bambi to get down just in time.

agents are covered in exploded dung. deeply unfortunate.

and there had been 4 other fires that night!!! and a whole lot of automobile accidents, assaults, other such panic induced things. but no cockroach problems. 

the episode ends with another planet of the apes quote and bambi hitting it off with dr. ivanov.

scully observes all this and says “smart is sexy” LMAOOOOOOOO 

AND THAT THEIR CHILDREN MIGHT SAVE THE PLANET THE NEXT TIME DUNG EATING OUTER SPACE COCKROACH ROBOTS REACH THE PLANET. she is sooooo out of pocket!!!!!! but it was deserved.

he doesn’t seem to know what to say to this so he tells her she smells. and she seems taken aback LMAOOO

episode wrap up time. mulder edition. “the development of our cerebral cortex has been the greatest achievement of the evolutionary processes. big deal.” <- okay i’ve said lmao a lot, but that one got a real, genuine laugh out of me. ugh his dumb ass… love him so bad. 

he is typing and typing and we see his fish in the background. also he is eating something. that i really hope has no cockroaches.

he’s going on about the vastness of technology but then has to slap the computer to get it to work LMAOOOO

he’s calling humanity mindless and primitive and BAM cockroach looking thing on whatever it was he was eating. he gets around to smack it. and then he lands a great smack, with an FBI file. i paused in case it had any clues to various mysteries and the file number is “667386”, but i don’t think that’s actually relevant at all

we hear a cockroach chirp as the end credits roll

WELL! that was an interesting episode. it’s interesting how even an episode centering on mysterious cockroach deaths can be made funny. they leaned into the campy elements, which i enjoyed.

things on my mind, in no particular order: scully cleaning her gun while calling mulder, mulder talking in poems while watching the stars, how they quoted planet of the apes at the beginning and then when two other did it it was in an implied romance (hey listen, you can’t stereotype the bond between two academics sharing a niche interest into such basic categories as “romance” or “friendship”, but i call it as the narrative presents itself), doggy bath time, the intimacy of long distance phone calls in pajamas, scully sleeping with the phone on her pillow, scully reading breakfast at tiffany's, this man sleeping in jeans.

it’s always weird watching them flirt with people that aren’t each other. and i know the writers do that on PURPOSE but it’s so weird!! the thing you did to be purposefully weird is working!!! so i was wrong about my initial assumption i had seen based on posts crossing my dash, she was NOT a former romantic partner, but a current love interest that did not seem to really feel the same. she just loves bugs, man. can you blame a woman? is there any greater love than between a woman and her research?

but seeing scully lowkey kinda jealous was also making me laugh. i’m not a believer in the whole “men and women can’t be friends thing”, so i choose to interpret that she wasn’t thinking along those lines at first, but the way she clocked him as down bad for her that fast was soooo funny. the minute that first name came out it was game over. 

(i mean, maybe it could be interpreted less as jealously and more as friendly antagonism, but that wasn’t the vibe i was getting. she wanted the tea. and then cocked her gun in front of said bambi and implied she and her new scientist friend were sexy due to their smarts at the end. always watch your back because scully can and will flex in front of ur girl)

it was nice to have a silly one!!! a good old fashioned silly one. although the body horror really did jumpscare me because i was enjoying the silly and then WOAH. cockroach in the arm. i also just shivered thinking about bugs again. nasty nasty! i’m sorry bambi they are just crawly!!! i appreciate their value to science but i just watched that little critter crawl in an open wound so have some space for my discomfort!

i wonder if in the writer’s room, they allotted how many silly episodes are per season. or arc. i see people referring to “arcs” in my reblogs by specific names; you’ll have to fill me in on that measurement of episodes. because it sounds intriguing. but yeah, sometimes you need a lighter one, and it’s nice to get that. 

need a scully fancam to femininomenon….

[myjjongie]

۶ৎ BENEATH THE MASK ── s. jaeyun

IN WHICH: your best friend's brother has a secret identity you didn't mean to find at 3 in the morning.

PAIRING: spider-man!jake x fem reader GENRE/WARNINGS: lowercase intended !!, one shot, fluff, slight angst, best friend's brother, emotional tension, slow burn, mentions of an injury, bleeding/blood WORD COUNT: 2.5k ₊⊹♡ EVIE'S NOTES: firstly i wanna thank claire ( @jaeyunluvbot ). i was torn between writing bsf brother jake or spider-man jake, and claire said to mix both. and that is what i did, so shout to her holy days. really loved writing this tbh. i am a huge lover for anything marvel (scott summers ily) and this was so just so much fun :3

spider-man, a proclaimed menace. at least, that’s what the daily bugle claimed. a web slinging vigilante who causes property damage alongside misdemeanors. speculations of him being a college student, didn’t help the masked hero’s case. to many, spider-man seemed like a immature kid.

but to a small majority spider-man was their savior. you were a part of that latter. your interest was just a minor curiosity. blurry photos mixed with poorly shot videos flooded your feed. or maybe it was the way the masked hero was close in your age. in the end it began to flood your mind, he was on your mind.

it wasn’t until the infamous web slinger saved you. in truth it wasn’t a life or death situation. just a minor theft, stolen back pack was all. yet spider-man was somehow there to save you instantly.

you remember the way he spoke—his tone was strangely familiar, yet out of reach. like a voice you should recognize but couldn’t quite place. that fleeting moment was enough to keep him on your mind. articles you stumbled upon? bookmarked. every post that crossed your timeline? saved without hesitation. what only started as simple curiosity had slowly turned into something more.

now here you were, crashing at yunjin’s place as usual—pajamas on, sprawled across her bed. your phone rested in your hands, screen glowing as you mindlessly scrolled, your feed unsurprisingly filled with spider-man.

“you totally have a type.”

your head turned to your best friend bewildered by her statement. her eyes remained fixed on the post displayed on your phone. sure you found the mysterious hero charming. but you wouldn’t say he’s your type, that was a bit of a stretch. yunjin, however, only giggled at your immediate defensiveness.

“come on. i’ve seen the way you talk about him. not to mention all those articles and posts you have saved. he’s totally your type!”

you rolled your eyes, heat creeping up to your cheeks. “doesn’t mean he’s my type. it’s just simple curiosity nothing more.”

“right.” yunjin hummed as she turned away from your phone. “you know instead of just day dreaming about wanting that web-head, put that focus on jake.”

your face morphed into utter shock. “absolutely not!”

yunjin snorted watching you jump up. “i mean he’s single. you’re single—“

your voice quickly cut in. “huh yunjin. i liked him one time in grade school!” you couldn’t help but stare at her like she had lost her mind. “not to mention this is your older brother we’re talking about!”

“gosh. you make him sound horrible.” yunjin pouted.

“i mean he’s not horrible. he’s a great guy. just, i was so young when i first met him. hell he was the only guy i knew at that age. so of course i had a crush on him.”

yunjin shrugged, unbothered by your words. “i mean even if you still did i wouldn’t care. plus i think it would be enjoyable watching you both bicker in a will they or won’t they kind of way.” she couldn’t help but laugh at the could have been situation.

“still not happening.”

“what’s not happening?”

both of you turned towards the doorway, where jake stood in flannel pajamas and a graphic tee. his iconic black frames perched on his nose. your face turned red, heart racing as you feared he had overheard the entire conversation.

“meh, nothing don’t worry about it. you heading to bed jake?”

“yeah just came to check on you both before i turned in for the night. just don’t forget you’re in charge of getting groceries tomorrow. i’ll send some money—“

“yeah yeah. i hear you jake. i’ll see you in the morning.” yunjin cut him off, breathing out a sigh.

jake softly laughed at his stubborn sister. “good night yunjin. and good night yn.”

your red ears perked at his voice. “yeah.. good night jake.” awkward eyes looking at him, taking note of the smile on his face.

with that jake walked away to his room. the faint sound of his closed door echoing from the hallway.

face planting into the pillows you groaned out. “god kill me now!”

the weight of embarrassment was too much for you. in truth you weren’t being fully honest with yunjin. one thing was true you did like jake once in grade school, but that didn’t mean there were no feelings that lingered.

you denied anything romantic you felt towards jake for years. only recently did you come to terms with these emotions that would never leave. the only conclusion now was to sleep it off—it seemed like the quickest way to forget, at least for the time being. future you would have to deal with waking up and remembering it all again.

later that night you stirred awake, eye lids struggling to open. finally finding your phone after blindly feeling for it. the bright light helping to wake you up. the weight of yunjin curled up next to you as she still slept soundly. you carefully peeled yourself out of the bed. making sure not to make any noise as you made your way to her door.

once out of the door, you began to head toward the kitchen. as you made your way down the hallway passing jake’s room, something made you pause. his door was cracked open, just slightly. just enough for you to see him.

there was jake, his black frames—something he always needed—no longer in sight. jake hunched over his bed, peeling his hoodie off with slow, careful movements. his shirt was stained a dark red at his side. blood swelling from a fresh gash on his ribs.

your eyes widened at the deep wound seeping through his shirt, panic rising as your mind raced with too many questions to count. then you scanned the room further, taking notice of the first-aid kit sprawled out beside him. surgical scissors along with antiseptic wipes littering the floor. evidence of a rushed attempt to tend to his injury. the sight only deepened the confusion settling in your chest.

and there, crumpled at his feet, was a torn mask. one you had seen countless times—so many that you could recognize it just from its color.

that signature red mixed with a web motif.

your breath hitched.

no.

no. no. no.

your best friend’s, nerdy, predictable, know it all, older brother was—

jake was spider-man.

your head began to spin, everything falling into place like a puzzle you stared at for so long. why he felt oddly familiar. why spider-man’s voice sounded like someone you knew. why he was in the right place at the right time.

it was jake.

all along, it was jake.

before you could even think about stepping back, his head snapped toward the door. toward you. jake’s gaze now locked onto yours instantly. panic spreading across his face as the situation settled in.

for a second, nothing moved. then, in one swift motion he shot up. stumbling slightly, knocking over the chair beside him. “shit.”

unfortunately for you, jake moved faster then you could react. one second you were standing outside his door frozen in place. the next, a strong hand was wrapped around your wrist, yanking you forward.

a startled gasp left your lips as you stumbled into his room. his door shortly closing behind you. before you could begin to register what had just happened, your back was pressed against the wood. jake’s arm braced by your head, caging you in. his uneven breathing being the only sound in the shared silence.

you couldn’t move, neither did he. all you could do was watch as his eyes scanned your face. seeking for your reactions, wondering if you felt lied to, betrayed, hurt.

you could see it in his dark eyes, worry cascading his body at his secret being out. indeed spider-man was someone you began to admire. but that didn’t mean jake purposely lied to you or even yunjin, there was a reason for it. so how could you hate him for something he felt hiding was right?

jake noticed the reflection of your eyes change. his tense body now softening. he could withstand everyone else hating him, maybe even his sister. but you? the thought of you hating him for this secret, crushed him every time he put the suit on. especially when he realized his feelings for you shifted all those years ago.

finally his voice broke through the silence, low and measured. “you can’t tell anyone.”

you nodded along, your brain still processing the last ten minutes. you felt dizzy, as if the world around you was spinning out of control. this was jake. your best friend’s older brother. the same guy you used to have a ridiculous grade school crush on—to your surprise, you still did. the same guy who now stood in front of you bleeding, battered, and very much not a nerdy know it all you thought you knew.

then he winced.

the sharp inhale made you snap out of it. your eyes flickered down to his ribs. remembering the fresh blood seeping through the fabric. your stomach churned at the thought.

“jake. you’re—“

“i know.” his voice was strained, body tensing up again. ��can you help me?”

your eyes widened at his question. “me?”

“yeah.” jake couldn’t help let out a pained laugh at your expression. “i mean unless you want me to bleed out in my room. that’s fine.”

“no. no! i’ll help.”

jake stepped back, the absence of his warmth making you exhale. jake made his way to the bed, dropping himself onto the edge with a slow and careful motion. once settling down did he strip away his blood stained shirt, revealing his wounded body.

you had seen jake shirtless countless times before. he had the build of your usual nerd—slim, somewhat lanky, with a lean frame. but now, with the suit gone, he looked different. stronger. more defined than you had ever realized. the muscles that lined his torso was a stark contrast to the image of him you always carried in your mind. that alone made it hard to look away.

swallowing all your nerves you forced yourself to move. picking up the fallen chair, you pulled it up the bed side. gathering up the items from the first-aid kit, you settled it down next to jake.

your fingers trembled slightly as you grabbed the antiseptic wipes. jake took immediate note of this causing him to smirk at your movements.

“you’re nervous.”

you shot him a glare. “no, i’m not.”

“mhm.” jake let out a low chuckle. knowing you weren’t being honest.

you felt your cheeks burn at his laugh. yet wanting to prove a point, you pressed the antiseptic to his wound a little harder than necessary.

jake hissed. “okay, easy.”

“you know you deserved that.”

jake laughed lowly once more sending a shiver up your spine. you turned your focus back to his wound, ignoring the way his laugh made you feel. you took the moment to examine his side. a deep gash that would definitely need stitching, jake didn’t expect you to do it did he?

“don’t worry. i’m gonna stitch myself up.”

your head shot up to look at him. did he just read your mind? you saw the way jake let a lopsided smile tug at his lips. “it was written all over your face yn.”

you turned your face away feeling too shy to continue staring at him. carefully you went back to the task. your eyes couldn’t help but wander over to his bare chest. noting the way jake breathed deeply whenever you applied pressure, or when you brought a new wipe to the wound.

then gently you raised your fingers to graze against his stomach. mesmerized by how muscular his torso had become. before you could make contact, his hand shot out, grabbing yours. his grip was tight, trembling slightly, as if he was afraid of something.

“don’t.” jake breathed out, his dark eyes fixed on you, partially hidden by his messy brown hair. his voice came off low, strained, almost as if the simple request was harder than it seemed.

“sorry. i. i wasn’t thinking.” you whispered as you readjusted your focus.

jake’s breathing deepened as he studied your nervous body beneath him, his gaze faltered between your hands and your face. jake could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him—knowing that if he didn’t stop you, everything they had would be ruined. the seemingly normal relationship you both had would slip through his fingers. it was bad enough you had found out about his secret identity this way. he couldn’t bear to make it worse by letting his feelings get in the way.

soon you finished, scooting away as jake took over, carefully stitching the wound. an occasional click of his tongue filled the room whenever he poked too deep.

the air was thick, charged with something unspoken. you didn’t know what it was. but there was a tense emotion that hung between you both.

you let out a deep exhale, your gaze lowering down to the floor, now eyeing the torn mask. with hesitant fingers, you reached down for it, gently picking it up. turning it over you stared at the face you’d seen countless of times on your screen. fingers grazing over the eye lenses, taking in the moment of jake being spider-man.

jake’s hand stilled. his gaze flickered to you, watching as you studied the mask.

then, he spoke up. his voice low yet quiet, breaking the silence.

“are you scared of me now?”

his words were barely above a whisper, worry laced between it.

your body jumped, caught off guard by his question. slowly, your gaze lifted to meet with his eyes. then you saw it, the jake you always knew. yet. he looked tired. worn out from all the responsibilities he had to bear alone. your fingers curled around the mask gripping it tightly.

“no.”

you swallowed hard, heart hammering in your chest. realization dawned on you at how much jake truly suffered alone. suffering so much he couldn’t even tell his sister. “i’m not scared of you jake.”

“thank you…” his head hung low as he focused on stitching himself up.

you continued to sit there, feeling as if jake needed the company—someone to distract him from the weight of his solitude. after a long moment jake finished up, carefully putting everything back into the kit before shoving it underneath his bed.

standing up from the chair, you knew this was your queue to leave. mask still held tightly in your hand you placed it down next to jake. before you could turn toward his door, jake’s fingers brushed against yours. barely, lightly, as if he was unsure he could touch you.

“yn. thank you again. just. please don’t tell yunjin..”

“didn’t plan on it.” you laughed softly, slowly pulling your hand from his touch. the feeling still lingering on your fingertips.

making your way to the door you slowly turned around, gaze locked back onto jake. “good night spider-man.”

jake chuckled at his hero alias the corners of his mouth curling into a faint smile. “good night yn.”

as you left his room the weight of it all still loomed on you. you knew for certain nothing between you and jake would ever be the same again.

yet somehow you found yourself happy with that new found outcome.

perm taglist ( open! refer to this post ) . . . @ikeulove @leehsngs @nickiminajleftasscheek @ijustwannareadstuff20 @enhanextdoor

©myjjongie 2025

[gf2bellamy]

hi! love your fics so much <3 i was wondering what do you think of sunshine!reader and post-prison spencer... like that man is so wary about everything after what he'd been through and sunshine!reader was just being the goodness incarnate, breaking down his walls one by one 🙏🏻

sunshine — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: spencer having a cut on his forehead , mention of spencer having nightmares , mention of germophobia a/n: hiii !! this made me realize how much i love writing sunshine!reader x postprison!spencer <3 hope you like this

Spencer’s gaze lingered on you as you laughed with Penelope, your bright energy filling the room like a warm sunrise. The corners of his mouth twitched—just barely—but as soon as he felt it, he forced himself to look away, focusing on the coffee he was pouring.

But then, like clockwork, you shattered through them. 

“Spencer!” Your voice was light, cheerful as you entered the breakroom. “Hi! Good morning! I haven’t seen you all day.” 

You stepped closer, your shoulder brushing against his in an innocent touch, but one that sent a ripple of warmth through him. He straightened slightly, tightening his grip on the coffee cup.

“Morning,” he murmured. “Yeah, I woke up a little late today.” 

What he didn’t say—what he never really said—was that the nightmares had stolen his sleep again, twisting through his mind until exhaustion finally won out, making him oversleep. 

You tilted your head. “You know, my alarm clock is pretty amazing. Hasn’t failed me once,” you said, watching him take a sip of coffee. Then, almost as an afterthought, you mumbled, “Except maybe once or twice…” 

A sheepish grin spread across your lips before you perked up again. “But I can totally give you the brand name! You should definitely get one.” 

Spencer looked at you, really looked at you. The way you stood there, all warmth and light, as if the world hadn’t touched you with the same cruelty it had touched him. A part of him wanted to let that warmth in—just a little. 

Instead, he gave you a small, wary smile. “No, it’s fine… but thank you.” You flashed him a bright smile.

“Okay,” you said simply, turning to grab a cup and start making your own coffee. 

Spencer lingered for a moment, watching as you hummed softly to yourself, completely absorbed in your task.

He exhaled quietly, forcing himself to turn away. But as he reached the doorway, something pulled at him.

So he glanced back. 

Just for a second. 

You, still oblivious, stirred your coffee, completely unaware of the way his gaze softened—just barely—before he shook his head at himself and disappeared down the hall. 

He wasn’t sure why he looked back. Maybe that was the part that scared him the most. 

That wasn’t the first time moments like this had happened. 

Like that one evening on the jet. 

The case had been brutal. He sat in his usual spot, silent, lost in thought. 

And then there was you. 

Sliding into the seat next to him, your knee brushed against his, a casual, fleeting touch that sent a ripple of awareness through him. You didn’t pry or push—you never did.

You simply pulled a small Sudoku book from your bag and flipped it open. A quiet invitation. 

Spencer wasn’t sure why he kept sneaking glances at you as you worked through the puzzle, pencil tapping idly against the page. Maybe it was the way your lips quirked in concentration, or how you absentmindedly twirled the pencil between your fingers when you were thinking. 

You were stuck—long enough that he finally caved. 

“Four,” he murmured, tapping his finger lightly against the empty square, his arm brushing against yours in the process. 

Your head snapped up, eyes meeting his, and then came that smile—the one that made something unfamiliar tighten in his chest.

“Thanks,” you said. For some reason, that made him feel lighter. You bit your lip surpressing an even bigger smile at the realization that your plan was working.

At some point, you shifted the book between the two of you, an unspoken offer to let him join in. He could have filled out the entire page in seconds—he already had the answers mapped out in his head—but he waited, watching you work through each number, patient in a way he rarely was. 

And when he saw it—that telltale little pout, the way your lips puckered just slightly when you were stumped. 

Without a word, he would lean in again, pencil grazing the page. 

“Seven,” he murmured. 

Your smile was even brighter this time. You always had a way of brightening his day, even when he least expected it. 

Some mornings, Spencer woke up convinced that smiling was out of the question. And yet, somehow, you always managed to prove him wrong. 

Like today. 

He stepped into the bullpen, his eyes catching Emily and JJ standing by a small pink bakery box, happily grabbing donuts from inside. By the time he walked closer, the box was already half-empty. 

Typical. 

Spencer barely had time to process his disappointment before your voice chimed in from behind him. 

“Spencer!” 

He turned just as you appeared, a small box in your hands. Without hesitation, you pressed it into his. 

“Here.” 

He blinked down at it, fingers curling around the edges. “Hi. What’s this?” 

“Open it,” you urged, practically bouncing on your feet. 

Lifting the lid, he found a single chocolate-sprinkled donut inside. His favorite. 

“I knew the team would finish them all,” you said, nodding toward JJ, who—right on cue—grabbed another donut with a sheepish grin. “So I thought I’d get you one in a separate box.” 

You smiled, and Spencer found himself just… staring. 

For a moment, he didn’t know what to say.

“Thank you,” he said softly, offering a small but genuine smile before taking a bite. 

You and he both knew why you’d gone out of your way to do this. It wasn’t just because he was often late these days, dragging himself in after nights spent wrestling with his own mind. It wasn’t just because the team had a tendency to wipe out the treats before he even got a chance. 

It was because you’d noticed. 

Noticed the way he hesitated before grabbing food that others had already touched. Noticed that, despite his insistence that prison had forced him to overcome his germophobia, old habits still lingered. 

But neither of you said anything about it. 

Instead, you just smiled at each other before heading to your desks, like this was normal—like it wasn’t something small and kind and significant. 

And maybe, for the first time in a long while, Spencer started to believe that kindness didn’t always come with a catch. 

That's when things started to shift.

One morning, as you were settling in at your desk, a cup appeared in your line of sight. 

You blinked, looking up—only to find Spencer standing there, his expression unreadable but his gesture speaking louder than words. 

“Oh.” A flicker of surprise crossed your face before it melted into a bright smile. “Thank you.” 

You took the cup carefully, warmth seeping into your palms, trying to pretend like this wasn’t a big deal. Like your heart hadn’t skipped a little at the thought of Spencer Reid going out of his way for you. 

Spencer shifted slightly on his feet, glancing away as if regretting the decision to linger. “I, um… You always bring everyone else coffee. Thought I’d return the favor.” 

Your fingers curled around the cup a little tighter. 

“Oh, so you do notice,” you teased lightly, taking a sip. It was exactly how you liked it. Of course it was—Spencer noticed everything. 

He gave a small, almost imperceptible huff of amusement, shaking his head. “I notice a lot of things.” 

Something in the way he said it made your stomach flip. 

But before you could respond, he cleared his throat and tapped the file on your desk. “We have a briefing in five minutes.” 

And just like that, he was walking away, as if this was nothing. As if he hadn’t just let his walls slip, even for a second. 

You watched him go, a knowing smile playing on your lips. 

Little by little, he was letting you in. 

And he probably didn’t even realize it yet. 

The next instances were small, almost imperceptible, but to anyone paying attention, it was clear Spencer was letting his walls down bit by bit.

He’d consistently choose the seat next to you in the bullpen, even if there were other open spots. He’d find himself working alongside you—no matter what the task was.

And it wasn’t just in the office. Spencer’s schedule seemed to align with yours more often than not. He’d find himself finishing up work at the same time as you and walking out alongside you.

The way he would stand near your desk, leaning in just a bit to hear your voice, was becoming something he almost looked forward to. 

There was no grand moment of confession, no flashing neon sign that screamed, Spencer is letting you in, but it was happening in little gestures, in the softening of his gaze when he looked at you.

Maybe he wasn’t fully aware of it, or maybe he was too guarded to admit it, but it was happening, and that was enough for you. 

But one particular day, the usual rhythm shifted. The case they’d been working on had taken its toll on everyone, but Spencer had been especially distant.

No one had missed the way he’d brushed off the slight injury to his forehead, a thin cut from the struggle during the case.

It was barely noticeable at first, but under the harsh lighting of the bullpen, it was impossible to ignore. 

“Spencer.” Your voice was soft but firm. He turned slowly, his expression unreadable, but you could see the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. 

You were already reaching into the drawer of your desk, fingers brushing over the familiar cool metal of your first aid kit.

It was instinct, really—an automatic response to someone else’s pain. 

“Come here,” you said, motioning toward the chair beside your desk. Your smile was warm and reassuring.

“I’m fine.” His voice was quiet, dismissive. A reflex, more than anything. 

You raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Spencer Reid,” you said gently, and something about the way you spoke his name made his resolve waver. “You’re not fine. Come here.” 

For a moment, he didn’t move. You saw the conflict flicker across his features, the instinct to withdraw battling against something else—something softer, something that looked a lot like longing. 

Then, with a quiet exhale, he relented. 

You resisted the urge to let out a relieved sigh as he sat down, watching as he brushed his hair back from his face.

“You should’ve taken care of this before we got on the jet,” you murmured, pulling out disinfectant and a clean cotton pad. Your hands worked steadily, but your heart was another matter entirely.

It always seemed to race when he was close like this. 

Spencer huffed a quiet laugh, though there was little humor in it. “There were more important things to worry about.” 

You frowned. “That doesn’t mean you don’t get to take care of yourself.” 

He didn’t respond, but you could feel his eyes on you as you stepped closer, standing between his legs without thinking twice about it. It wasn’t until your fingers tilted his chin gently upward that you realized how close you were. 

Your breath hitched. 

Spencer, for his part, remained still. If he was aware of the proximity, he didn’t say anything. But you saw the way his lips parted slightly, how his gaze flickered from your hands to your face like he was memorizing the details of the moment. 

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. 

“This might sting,” you warned softly. 

He gave a small nod, but his eyes never left yours. 

The moment the antiseptic touched his skin, he barely reacted. But you felt the sharp intake of his breath, saw the slight twitch of his fingers where they rested on his lap. 

“You’re really bad at this whole ‘letting people take care of you’ thing, you know that?” you said, attempting to lighten the air between you. 

Spencer exhaled a small chuckle, and the sound made your chest feel warm. 

“I’m aware.” 

You smiled despite yourself, shaking your head as you pressed a bandage carefully over the cut. “Yeah, well. Lucky for you, I’m stubborn.” 

Something flickered in his eyes—something almost too vulnerable to name. 

“I’ve noticed,” he murmured. 

Your fingers lingered against his skin for just a second too long before you forced yourself to take a step back, clearing your throat. 

“There,” you said, suddenly feeling breathless. “Good as new.” 

Spencer didn’t move right away. He just sat there, watching you in a way that made your stomach twist into knots. 

Then, finally, he spoke. “Thank you.” 

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Anytime.” 

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

Then, Spencer did something that surprised you. 

He stood up and reached out, hesitating only for a second before his fingers wrapped around your wrist. The contact was fleeting—just enough to make your breath catch—but then, in a single motion, he pulled you forward. 

Before you could fully process it, you found yourself wrapped in his arms. 

Spencer was hugging you. 

It wasn’t a quick, polite embrace. It was full-bodied, desperate in a way that made your heart ache. His arms tightened around you as if he was afraid you might slip away, and when you felt his lips rest against your shoulder, you thought you might actually break. 

You exhaled shakily, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, your arms wrapping around him in return. You felt the tension in his frame, the way he held onto you like he didn’t want to let go. 

One of your hands moved up, fingers threading softly through his hair in a soothing motion. You felt him exhale against your skin, the tension in his shoulders melting little by little as he leaned into your touch. 

When he finally pulled away, it was slow—like he wasn’t entirely ready to let go. His hands lingered at your waist, his fingers ghosting over the fabric of your shirt.

His eyes, usually guarded, were soft in a way you rarely got to see. 

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at the sight of it. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to—” 

“You don’t have to apologize,” you interrupted gently. “Not for that.” 

He blinked at you, something unreadable passing through his gaze. His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something, but instead, he just nodded. 

And then, to your surprise, he lifted a hand, hesitating for only a moment before brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was barely there, fleeting, but it sent a shiver down your spine. 

You swallowed hard, suddenly hyperaware of just how close you still were. 

“I should probably—” Spencer started, but he didn’t move, his eyes locked onto yours. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, but you didn’t move either. 

Neither of you did. 

Not yet. 

And in that moment, you knew. 

The walls he’d spent so long building were finally beginning to come down. 

[nakylvr]

— ESPRESSO

kim donghyun "leehan" x gn!reader

summary: the coffee shop you regularly go to has a new employee, a kind male your age who always seems to write your name wrong. too bad you'll never notice his attempts at talking to you, right?

warnings/tags: fluff, barista!leehan, barista!taesan mention, mild language, super short sorry

my first boynextdoor post!! requests are open for these lovely lads 🫶 i might do a pt 2 for this but for now this is it!

"y-yn?"

you hear your name, or, an attempt to say your name as you stand aside from the front counter waiting for your coffee. you walk up and grab your drink from the employee, turning it around to see another complete butchering of your name written on the cup. when you look at who's working the cashier, you see the same male you've seen the past few weeks. the one who has taken your exact same order these past few weeks, and still manages to spell your name wrong leaving his coworkers struggling to pronounce whatever he wrote.

he's cute, which is the first thing you noticed about him. his hair long enough to outline his perfect face, his brown eyes that looked like they were chocolate, the warm smile he always had on his face. god, why did this place have to get all the cute people as employees? he must be new too, judging by the way he keeps looking back at his coworkers to ask questions about the drinks and what sizes they come in. also by how nice he seems to be for the overwhelming holiday season for local coffee shops.

as you take a sip of the drink, you look at the time on your watch and realize you're running late. walking by the front counter, you go right by the male who hesitantly reaches his arm out to try and talk to you, but you don't notice as you walk out the door putting your phone to your ear.

"do you really think this is going to work?" taesan asks leehan, leaning against the counter.

"positive," leehan nods his head. "it just...may take some time."

"yeah, no shit," taesan rolls his eyes. "what are you even trying to get out of this? i'm the one actually making the drinks. you just take the orders and spell their name wrong every time."

"well," leehan starts. "they're cute, and i want to get to know them."

"so you think by writing their name wrong repeatedly will want them to talk to you and not get irritated by your incapacity to spell?" taesan raises an eyebrow at his friend.

leehan lets out a sigh, dragging his hands down his face. "i don't know! i'm trying, okay?!"

"terribly," taesan mutters. "maybe actually try to have a conversation with them. you never know what could happen." he shrugs lightly.

"yeah, i guess," leehan nods.

the next morning, you walked into the coffee shop looking like you got up five minutes prior. you got essentially no sleep the previous night, and were in desperate need for a strong coffee instead of your usual. you stop in front of the counter and a male walks up to it from behind it, the same one you'd seen the past few weeks.

"hi," he says with a smile. "you gonna get your-"

"i need a quad shot iced americano."

"oh!" leehan lets out in surprise at both you cutting him off and your tone. "not-not your usual?" he asks.

you shake your head. "not today, sorry."

"no! it's okay!" leehan quickly changes the order on his side and grabs a new cup, giving a look to taesan who was already pouring the original drink for you. "uh. uhm."

you raise an eyebrow at the confusion growing visible on the barista's face, clearly not knowing how to do something. "is everything okay?" you ask.

"yep!" leehan nods quickly, clearing his throat as he writes your name on the cup. "you're all set!" he smiles.

you blink a few times, staring at him confused. "you haven't charged me yet."

"don't worry about it!" leehan's smile stays on his face. "my treat," he says before he can think.

a blush forms on your face realizing you just got your drink for free, shyly nodding your head and pushing some of your hair out of your face. "well, thank you..." your voice trails off.

"donghyun," he answers, his smile growing bigger.

"thank you, donghyun. i really appreciate it," you say, smiling back at him.

"it's not a problem," he shakes his head, his hair flowing with him. "really."

"yn?"

sending a gentle smile leehan's way, you walk over to the other side and take your drink from the black-haired male you always saw with leehan. looking at the cup, your smile grows bigger at the sight of your name. walking back up to the front, you hold the cup up in front of leehan.

"finally got my name right, hm?" you say, smiling still. you turn the cup a little bit more, failing to notice leehan's eyes widening in fear as you see numbers scribbled on it, making you confused. looking over the numbers, you realize it's a phone number. slowly lowering the cup, your smile grows bigger as you look at the male in front of you. "and more, huh?"

"uhm," leehan lets out awkwardly, shifting on his feet. "i was hoping i would be able to talk to you more," he admits, a shy smile on his face. "but i didn't really know how to go about it."

it all clicked in your brain then. "so you were writing my name wrong on purpose?" you question, but the smile remains on your face.

"yeah," he nods.

"do you have a paper and pen?" you ask, leaving leehan looking at you confused.

"here," taesan pops out of nowhere, handing you a pen and pad from his apron pocket, nudging leehan lightly before walking in the back.

scribbling your number down on the paper, you tear the page off and hand it over to the male who's staring at you in bewilderment. "here! in case the marker wipes off the cup or one of my friends tosses it," you tell him.

taking the paper from you, leehan looks it over and his face instantly turns red realizing it's your number. "oh! gotcha!" he nods, shoving it in his pocket.

your phone dings, and you pull it out of your pocket to glance at it before putting it back away. "well, i gotta get going. but, it was really nice talking to you a bit, donghyun," you say, grabbing your drink.

"yeah, you too," leehan smiles. "i'll text you after my shift!"

smiling back at him, you open the door and wave. "i'll be waiting!"

as you walk out the door, the bell dinging as you leave, there's a dumb, lovesick smile on leehan's face as he leans against the counter. he glances around, seeing no customers in the store before pumping his fist up in the air. "hell yes!" he exclaims.

"you're a fucking idiot," taesan rolls his eyes, walking back up front.

"be quiet!"

[familyvideostevie]

to close up all the rest

joel miller x reader | 3.2k

a patrol rattles you. joel keeps you grounded.

cw: typical tlou violence, intense emotions about being alive/death, love, something to live for. post-part i jackson au

a/n: just a little jackson au one-shot. this is a christmas present for darling @macfrog. thank you for existing, i love you. hope this is alright.

--

It's been a long time since someone died in front of you.

You don't even know her. Honestly, you should be glad the runner grabbed her, considering she just finished shooting at you. Your patrol partner, a kid called Joey who usually works the stables, shouts your name as you watch it sink its teeth into her neck over and over again.

She doesn't even scream.

"More are coming," he cries. "We have to go."

He's right. The woman's gunshot echoed in the valley and it's not yet cold enough for the herds to be slow, so you have a few minutes at most to get out of here. Probably less.

Groans on the wind. Definitely less.

You shake yourself out of the twisted thrall you've fallen into and look away. Heart in your throat, blood pounding in your ears, you quickly tie your bags to your horse and scan the street.

"Do you have your pack?" you ask Joey.

If she was screaming you'd shoot her. Put an end to it. But it might be a waste of a shot and then the runner would be on you in ten big steps. Fuck.

"Got it!"

You both mount skittish rides and take off down the cracked pavement. The patrol had an added ask of raiding some neighborhoods for linens that can be turned into bandages. You each have a big bag of old clothes, curtains, blankets, and the like strapped to the back of your saddles. The woman had appeared out of the tree line just as you finished the last house, demanding your stuff. There was protocol for this -- Joey would distract her while you went for the gun strapped to the back of your jeans.

But she was skittish, this woman. She fired at the pavement in front of you as soon as your hand twitched.

And then, well.

After a few miles of steady galloping you signal for Joey to slow. The forest is quiet as you turn onto the path down the hill that will lead you back to Jackson.

"I can't believe she shot at us," the kid says. "Stupid."

You sigh. "She was desperate," you say, remembering how wild her eyes looked. "And alone. If she had people with her she wouldn't have."

"You think?"

It's been some time but you did your days alone in this world. It's bloody, it's terrifying, it's punishing. You stop trusting anyone and eventually you stop trusting yourself. Wondering why you keep trying. Without community you lose sight of what matters. You lose sight of how you can not just survive this hell on earth, but live in it.

If she had wanted to do that, instead, maybe you could have told her it was possible.

"Yeah," you say. The walls of Jackson come into view and you think about what awaits you. A warm house, an even warmer embrace. Safety, security, home. "Having people makes all the difference."

Joey waves the green flag and the gates open for you. After returning your horse and checking to make sure the kid isn't too traumatized -- frankly, he seems totally unbothered -- you walk back to the house. The sun is starting to set, painting everything golden, but you can see the clouds rolling in. Might be that snow that everyone keeps anticipating. Most mornings you hear chatter about it. Small talk about the weather persists after the end of the world.

A few folks wave hello, ask after Ellie's new dog, say they hope you've got your firewood ready. Jackson is a thing out of dreams. Solid walls, even steadier people. Good rules, smart leaders. You feel lucky every day that they let you stay here. That you've made a home here.

That home is in sight when you turn on Rancher and what you spy on the porch makes you pick up your pace.

Joel.

He's rocking in the one chair out front, guitar slung across his lap like an afterthought as he strums with his eyes closed. It'll be too cold to sit out, soon, so he spends most evenings playing while he can still stand it.

A heaviness you didn't realize you were carrying lessens a little at the sight of him.

"Hey, stranger," you call as you walk up the steps.

His gaze falls on you, the hazel in his irises more evident in the fading light of the late afternoon. God, he looks beautiful. Like everything you've ever wanted.

"Howdy," he says. The guitar goes up against the house and he stands, meeting you at the top step. "How was patrol?"

You falter, smile frozen on your face. You should tell him, but you don't know what you'd say. A stranger died in front of you and it's put your stomach in knots? It's not that he'll laugh at you, or anything like that. You just need to chew on it a little longer. And right now you're steps away from the warm inside of your home and inches away from the man you love, so you decide to push it aside.

"The usual," you muse. Joel furrows his brow just a little and searches your gaze, but whatever he finds in your eyes causes him to let it go.

"Okay," he says, softly. He taps your chin with his knuckle and turns toward the front door, snagging his guitar on the way. "You hungry? Ellie brought by some soup."

"Did she make it?"

Your layers go on the hooks by the door, your boots next to his in the hall. He heads for the kitchen.

"Hell no," Joel says, deep voice echoing through your house. "Dina did."

"So it's edible?"

You pad on socked feet over creaking hardwood and find him over a pot on the stove, bowl in hand.

"Tried a bit and it didn't kill me," he says. "Waited for you to get home to eat, though."

"And Tommy says you were raised in a barn," you tease, kissing his cheek before he ladles the soup for you.

Joel grunts and you laugh. "Hot bowl," he says. "Careful."

For some reason, his gentle caution makes your chest hurt. You think about the woman from today, how she had no one telling her to be careful. How she made a mistake, or maybe a reckless choice. How she didn't even scream.

There are many very difficult days in this life and you dealt with them on your own for a long time. It's taken practice and mounds of patience from Joel and the other people in this town who love you, but you've learned that you can let other people help you through those days. But that doesn't mean it isn't hard.

You sit at the table across from Joel and try not to let your mood take over.

"You alright?" Joel asks, frown firmly in place. "Maybe Ellie did make the soup--"

"It's good, Joel," you say, smiling a little. If he asks you how you are one more time, you'll crack. And you're not ready yet. "Will you tell me about your day?"

He sighs, no doubt seeing through your second deflection, but allows it.

"Let's see," he starts, leaning back in his chair. "Tommy had me handlin' that bullshit with the kids who went huntin'."

Last week, three teenagers snuck out with the grand idea that they'd bag an elk or something just as big and bring it back for fame and glory or whatever kids think is worth life and death these days. It hadn't gone as badly as it could have, but it was pretty bad. They'd stolen a rifle from the patrol cache and only made it a few miles before one of them slipped down a bank and broke his ankle. Joel had been the one to lead the search party when someone realized they were missing.

He's got a soft spot for teenagers.

"It's good for them to learn," you remind him. He sucks on his teeth and rubs at his jaw. You slurp on some more soup and a thought at odds with your sour mood dances through your memory -- how good his beard felt on your skin last night. Jesus. He does something to you, this man.

"Should know better," he says, oblivious to the echo of your desire. "Havin' them clean all the guns is one thing but once that kid heals up I'm tellin' Tommy we oughta start a trainin' class or somethin'. Let them get outside the walls and hunt if they want. With supervision."

"Keep talking like that and Maria will make you join the council," you muse.

He snorts. "Yeah, I'm sure as shit not doin' that."

"You'd be good at it, Joel. People listen to you."

"I have a hard enough time gettin' my own kid to listen to me," he reminds you. "Hell, you, too."

It's less of a jab and more of an attempt to get you to cheer up, and it works. You laugh at him, delighted to vex him so. As if he does anything but melt for Ellie. And for you -- both of you know just how wrapped around you he is. He'll do anything for his family. You've seen proof of it.

"If only the council had a uniform," you sigh, exaggerating your disappointment. "You'd look so handsome in one."

"Watch it," he says, eyes sparkling.

You tap his foot under the table with yours. "Just being truthful," you tease, though it rings a little hollow given the fact that you're swerving talking about your own day.

Joel hums and leans back in his chair. "You gonna tell me what happened today?"

"What do you mean?"

Even as you chew on how to swerve him once again, you find yourself going back to the patrol. The way your senses sharpened when she stepped out of the trees, how you saw all the ways it could go wrong. Her twitchy hand, her wide eyes. The crack in her voice when she demanded your packs. The echo of the gunshot and your own heartbeat loud in your ears wondering if today was the day you wouldn't make it home. When the runner leapt out of nowhere and latched onto her. How easily your life could have ended that way, too.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you," Joel says, not unkindly. "Where are you?"

You chew on your lower lip. This would be a lot easier if the words would just come to you, if you knew how to explain yourself.

"Joel--"

"Alright, that's it," he says. Joel gets up with a groan, stretching his arms high in the air, and heads for the front door.

"What?" you ask, confused, but you follow him into the hall. "Joel, where are you going?"

"We're goin' for a walk." He shrugs on his jacket and waves you over. "C'mon."

"But the dishes--"

"Will be here when we get back," he finishes. "Now, get your coat on. Hat, too. Reckon the snow is gonna start tonight."

You could fight him about it, say you're cold and tired and just want to sit on the couch. Tell him to stop badgering you, to let sleeping dogs lie.

But that's the thing about Joel -- you trust him. Outside the walls, inside your home. With your life and with your heart. You're safe in his hands. And you've been here before plenty of times. After nightmares from both of you, after hard days in town, after his fights with Ellie or Tommy or whatever it is. You walk and you talk it out. Fresh air helps, Joel often says. It's the father in him, the caretaker, the man who knows when to listen and when to push. He's taught you a lot about that.

So you shove your feet back into your boots and Joel tugs a knit hat over your ears. The sun finished setting while you were eating, Jackson now illuminated by the gas lamps and string lights hanging between the posts.

Normally you'd be content to just walk with Joel side by side, as is your usual routine. He's not a particularly public man when it comes to affection, though you never doubt that he's thinking of you. His eyes find yours in every room and he easily finds you in every crowd. By now, you've got your own language.

But, given that he's brought you out here to no doubt get you to be honest about your complicated feelings, he offers you his arm for support. You take it with a dry look that he matches.

Never one to let you off easily, this man. Not when he knows he can help, at least.

"You know what I'm gonna say," he grumbles.

It helps to talk.

It's basically a mantra in your house. Ellie says he didn't used to be like this. The total opposite, in fact. You know that it's her that brought him back to this version of himself -- he did it because she asked. And maybe you coming along helped, too. He might seem gruff and guarded to those who don't know him but it's all so he can protect who and what he loves.

And this is one of his ways -- not letting things go unsaid.

"I don't know where to start," you say. "I don't know how to explain it."

Joel rubs a hand over his jaw. "Try the beginning," he suggests. "It was patrol, right? Somethin' happened?"

You nod.

"We saw a woman," you start. You close your eyes and picture her, letting Joel lead you down the street. "She came out of the woods just as we finished the last house."

"Hostile?"

You look at Joel. His jaw is tense, as if you're not standing in front of him safe and sound. Always trying to fix hurts he had nothing to do with.

"She had a gun, yeah," you continue. "Demanded our stuff. We were ready to do the protocol but then she shot at us."

Joel stops in his tracks, pulling you with him. "She did what?"

"And missed, obviously," you remind him. "But it was a stupid mistake, since we weren't far from that town with the herd. She had to have seen traces of them and known they were there."

"Christ," he mutters. You tug on his arm and he starts walking again.

"And before we could do anything a runner tackled her to the ground."

Joel curses under his breath. "Unlucky."

It starts to snow. You look up at the white flakes falling from the dark sky as you figure out how to say what happened next.

"Go on," Joel says, softly. "This is the part that bothered you, I reckon."

"She didn't even scream, Joel," you whisper just loud enough for him to hear. "She just went down."

"Ah."

All of it comes to a boil and the words pour out of you.

"I mean, why did she shoot in the first place? She was jumpy, sure, but she was alone, too. She looked so tired, so desperate, and the way it lunged for her I know it didn't kill her on the first bite. No screaming, she just took it. She took it and gave up. I don't -- she must have had nothing, to give up like that. It's just so fucked up --"

Your voice breaks. Joel pulls you to a stop and unwinds your arms so he can put his hands on your shoulders.

"Ain't nothin' you can do about someone else's lot," he says. "She made her mistakes."

"I know," you retort, "but that could have been me."

"It ain't you."

"But it could have been, Joel!" You're not angry with him, but you're frustrated. "If things had worked out differently for me, it could have been. If I never found Jackson, if I was still out there. It could have been me."

He exhales sharply, reigning in his own desire to remind you that you're safe. That you're here, that you're with him. That he won't let anything bad happen to you.

"Lots of things could be different," he says, slowly. "Could spend days thinkin' 'bout that stuff. Years."

"I guess I'm just sad for her." The snow has gathered in Joel's hair and you reach for him to brush it away. He allows it, keeping his eyes on yours. "I think she wanted to die."

"It's a hard life on the road."

You sigh. "I know, Joel," you say. "I just -- it's been a long time since things have been that bad for me. And it was hard to be reminded, you know?"

His hands move from your shoulders to cup your face, thumbs your skin. "I know, sweetheart," he replies. "We've all been there. Hard not to think about givin' up at least once in this shit hole."

It gets a dry laugh out of you.

"But you ain't givin' up. You fight tooth and nail every single time 'cause you've got so much to get back to. And it'll get you home."

You lean into one of his palms, your lips brushing along the heel of his hand. "I know, Joel."

He's not done. "For a long time I was like that. Not carin' much how things went, so long as I got to get my hands dirty. But Ellie --" he swallows, the love he has for his girl getting in the way of his words " -- and you tie me to this damn place. Make me get up every day, make me remember how things can be good. And someday it'll be my turn --"

"Joel--"

"No, listen. Someday it'll be my turn, and I'll go knowin' I was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world to get what I got. Time."

You can't take it anymore. You pitch forward into his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. Now that he's said it, you realize why the whole thing bothered you so much. You don't want to die. You don't want to lose the life you have now. The home you have with this man, the way he loves you. The way you love him. It makes you feel human, it makes you feel alive.

And you feel damn bad for anyone who doesn't have something to live for.

Joel's hand presses into your spine. Maybe in a different life you'd be worried that he'd think you're silly for being so bothered about this, but he always takes you seriously. You both know how quickly you can lose something, how much it matters to make the time you have count.

"Thank you," you say into his jacket. He scoffs.

"C'mon, now." He gently pulls away from your embrace to look at you. He brushes snow from your shoulders and hat with careful fingers. "Let's go home."

Home. For so long you never thought you'd have one.

Joel must see the vulnerability in your eyes because he leans in to press his lips to yours gently. An anchoring touch, a reminder of how he feels.

"Getting frisky, Mr. Miller," you mutter when he pulls away. He snickers and you sneak another kiss as he pinches your hip through your coat.

"Home," he says again.

You couldn't agree more.

[rootedinrevisions]

Friends (with Benefits) Don't: Part 5

THIS IS PART OF THE FRIENDS (WITH BENEFITS) DON'T SERIES! T

PROMPT: “I love it when you say my name like that, baby.”

KINK: Morning Sex

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. SMUT (P in V. Lots of kissing and touching.)

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

TAG LIST: See Comments

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm going to be honest I was really struggling with my original idea for Kinktober Day 20. It was a different Kink with a different character but it wasn't coming together like I wanted. I had started and scrapped it five or six times. But I also had this that I wrote a few weeks ago. I wasn't going to post it because I didn't think it fit with the story I originally was writing it for (a Jake series that I've since abandoned cause I wasn't loving how it was coming together) but I feel like it could fit the Kinktober theme so here it is! Hope you like it! xx

The morning sunlight filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow over the room. You slowly stir awake, feeling the warmth of Jake’s body pressed against yours, his arm draped comfortably over your waist. His chest rises and falls with the rhythm of his deep, even breaths, and for a moment, you let yourself relax into him, enjoying the unexpected comfort of waking up in his arms. This isn’t how things usually go.

Your relationship with Jake has been easy, with no strings attached. At least, it was supposed to be. But now, with the way he’s holding you so protectively, it feels different. You remember last night—how you’d planned for another casual hook-up, but instead, after, you’d ended up tangled together under the covers, watching a romcom of all things. And then, instead of leaving like he always does, Jake stayed.

Your heart pounds softly in your chest, the weight of the situation settling in. Is this still just a fling? Or is something else happening between you two? The lines are starting to blur.

You shift slightly, careful not to wake him just yet, and glance over your shoulder. His usually cocky, confident expression is softened in sleep, his features relaxed, and suddenly, you’re hit with a wave of vulnerability you weren’t expecting.

You know you should probably move, maybe get up, but something about this moment feels too good to let go. You bite your lip, torn between the easygoing fun of what you had before and the undeniable change that seems to be happening.

Just as you're lost in thought, Jake stirs, his arm tightening slightly around your waist before his voice rumbles low in your ear. “Mornin’, darlin’.”

His voice, deep and gravelly from sleep, sends a shiver down your spine, and you fight the urge to smile. You manage to reply softly, “Morning.”

Jake shifts behind you, pulling you closer for a second before he stretches and rolls onto his back, his hand trailing down your arm as he moves. The bed feels colder without him wrapped around you, and you can't help but miss the warmth. He runs a hand through his messy hair and glances over at you, his usual cocky grin making an appearance. “Sleep well?”

You nod, still feeling a bit off-balance by the situation, and try to keep things casual. “Yeah, I did…you?”

“Better than usual,” he says, surprising you with the sincerity in his tone.

You sit up slowly, pulling the covers around you, suddenly feeling a bit exposed—not physically, but emotionally. This isn’t what you signed up for. Friends with benefits doesn’t include waking up in each other’s arms, watching movies together, and it certainly doesn’t include the softness in Jake’s eyes when he looks at you right now.

You’re about to say something, maybe ask him about breakfast or make some quip to lighten the mood, but before you can get the words out, you feel Jake’s lips press against your bare shoulder. It’s not just a kiss—it’s gentle, lingering, almost like he’s savoring the moment. And it catches you completely off guard. Jake’s mouth has been everywhere on you before, but this? This feels different. It’s tender. Intimate. Too intimate.

Your breath hitches slightly as you glance back at him, and you’re met with a gaze that’s softer than his usual playful smirk. His green eyes seem to be studying you, watching your reaction carefully. For a second, your heart pounds a little harder, and all you can think is what are we doing?

“Jake…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure of what you want to say. You feel like you should address this shift, but before you can even form a coherent thought, he’s already leaning in again, his lips brushing against your collarbone this time, trailing upward to your neck.

The air between you thickens, and any words you might’ve had dissolve in the heat of the moment. Jake’s hand slides along your waist, pulling you back down onto the bed, your body instinctively responding to him. You should stop and talk about this, about what this all means, but when he moves closer, you can’t seem to find it in you to pull away.

Jake’s lips linger for a moment, his breath brushing against your skin. It sends a shiver down your spine, not from cold, but from something much deeper. Something you hadn’t expected to feel this morning, or maybe ever in this situation. Sure, Jake has touched you plenty of times before, in ways that have sent your pulse racing and your skin burning. But this—this feels different.

Your heart begins to beat faster as his hand, which had been resting on your waist, tightens ever so slightly, pulling you closer. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, the way his muscles flex just beneath the surface as he shifts beside you. He presses another kiss, this time closer to the nape of your neck, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the contact. It sends your thoughts into a spiral, the question lingering in your mind—What is happening?

Before you can fully process it, Jake’s hand begins to move, sliding from your waist up along your ribs, his touch light and teasing. His fingers graze the band of your bra, tracing the edge in a way that makes your breath hitch. You shift slightly under the covers, your body responding to him even as your mind races to catch up. Every touch feels deliberate like he’s taking his time, savoring every second. It’s not the hurried, frenzied touches you’re used to—it’s slow, almost reverent, and it makes your heart pound in your chest.

His hand moves back down, slipping under the hem of your shirt, and in one smooth motion, he pulls it up over your head, tossing it aside. You don’t even think to stop him—you don’t want to. The cool air hits your skin, but it’s quickly replaced by the warmth of Jake’s hands as he cups your sides, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of your bra. His lips find your neck again, this time pressing a series of kisses, each one sending sparks through your body.

You open your mouth to say something—to ask him what this is, what it means—but before you can, his hand slides around your back, expertly unhooking your bra with practiced ease. He pulls it off, tossing it somewhere in the room, and you suddenly feel exposed in a way that’s both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

Jake doesn’t give you time to think about it. His hands are on you again, skimming over your bare skin as his mouth moves lower, pressing a kiss just below your collarbone. His touch is slow and patient as if he’s in no rush to get anywhere, and it drives you wild. You can’t help the way your back arches slightly, your body reacting to him before your mind can catch up.

As his lips trail down your chest, you feel his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down with the same deliberate slowness. The way he’s taking his time—like he wants to memorize every inch of you—sends a flush of warmth through your body.

You reach up, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him back to you. His lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and consuming, filled with a hunger that makes your head spin. There’s an urgency now, but it’s not the same frantic rush as before. It’s something deeper—something that makes your heart race as much as your body responds.

Jake’s hands roam your body with a familiar ease, but this time, there’s a softness to his touch, a kind of reverence that makes your skin tingle. His mouth moves back to your neck, trailing down to your chest, and you can feel the heat between the two of you intensifying. Every kiss, every touch, feels deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment in a way that leaves you breathless.

Before you know it, you’re completely lost in him. His mouth is everywhere—on your skin, your lips, your neck—and all you can do is let yourself fall deeper into the moment, feeling the weight of him, the warmth of him, as he moves against you. You’re no longer just two friends sharing a casual hookup. This is something more. And it terrifies you as much as it thrills you.

Jake pushes your legs a little further apart as he reaches down and wraps his hand around himself. He spreads the precum that formed at his tip around the head with his thumb before pumping himself a couple of times.

He then presses the tip through your folds as he gently pushes into you. His eyes find yours as his hips slowly move until they are pressed flatly against yours. Jake leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips before he started slowly moving in and out of you.

Your breath started to hitch as he moved in and out of you, each thrust feeling like it was a little deeper than the last. Slowly his pace started to quicken.

“J-Jake,” you moaned as you started to move your hips up to meet his.

You feel his lips curve into a smirk against your neck before he whispers, “God, I love it when you say my name like that, baby.”

Baby. That was new. He’d never used pet names before.

But you didn’t have time to overthink it because his hand slid down your stomach until one of his fingers started rubbing circles on your clit. You felt your back arch up off the sheets as the knot in your stomach tightened even further.

“F-fuck,” you cried out, feeling your orgasm right there.

“Not yet. Wait for me, baby. I’m…I’m almost there,” Jake breathily said as he picked up his face even further. Your hands grabbed at the sheets as you tried to hold it off, but it was getting nearly impossibly.

“Okay, come with me baby.” He breathed after a few more thrusts. Your toes curled and you cried out as you felt your orgasm wash over you. It was the most intense one he had ever given you. It left you feeling slightly dizzy as you laid there trying to get the air back into your lungs.

Once the intensity subsides, your breaths gradually even out, but the room still feels heavy with the lingering heat of what just happened. Jake shifts beside you, his body slightly resting on yours as if he’s reluctant to let go. His skin is warm, slick with a light sheen of sweat, and his chest rises and falls against your back. Slowly, his arm drapes lazily over your waist again, pulling you even closer until there’s barely an inch of space between you.

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, a gesture that feels impossibly tender compared to what had just transpired. It sends a strange flutter through your chest, and you can’t help but close your eyes, sinking into the feeling. His lips linger there for a moment, as though he’s savoring the closeness, his breathing still a little uneven as it fans across your skin.

You lay there in silence, the warmth of his body cocooning you, and for a fleeting second, it almost feels like more than just a fling. Jake holds you like you’re something precious, his grip on you gentle but firm, like he’s afraid you might slip away if he loosens it. His fingertips lazily trace small circles on your hip, an absent-minded gesture that sends ripples of electricity through your skin.

But even as your heart skips in response, your mind is racing. The intimacy of it all—of him kissing your shoulder earlier, of the way he’s holding you now—feels too close. Too much. Like it’s crossing a line you weren’t prepared to cross. You stare up at the ceiling, the fan spinning lazily above you, trying to quiet the thoughts spinning in your head.

What are we doing? It’s the question that’s been eating at you for weeks now, but after moments like this, it feels impossible to ignore. You’ve been telling yourself for months that it’s just physical—that this friends-with-benefits thing is working. But lying here, wrapped in Jake’s arms, the weight of his body still pressed against yours, you can’t help but wonder if it’s something more. And if it is—what does that mean for the two of you?

Beside you, Jake’s breathing has slowed, becoming more even, and you can feel his muscles relax against you. He looks so at ease, so content, like this is the most natural thing in the world. It’s disarming, seeing him like this, without the cocky smirk or swagger. Just Jake, quietly holding you in the early morning light.

He doesn’t say anything—maybe he’s thinking the same things, maybe he’s not thinking at all—but the silence between you feels charged, like there’s a conversation you should be having but neither of you is ready to start. You know you’ll have to face the reality of what’s happening between you eventually, of what it’s becoming. But not right now. Not yet.

For now, you’re content to stay here, tangled up with him in this moment. His arm still draped over you like he’s anchoring you to him, his breath warm against your neck, and the lingering heat from the sheets creating a bubble you don’t want to burst just yet. It’s safe here, in the quiet aftermath, even if it’s complicated. Especially because it’s complicated.

Eventually, Jake shifts beside you, the movement pulling you out of your thoughts. His arm loosens around your waist, and you can feel him adjust himself behind you. There’s a slight pause before he moves, as if he’s hesitant to break the moment, but then he finally leans back. You hear him run a hand through his tousled hair, the sound of it brushing against the pillow beside you.

With a small sigh, you push yourself up slightly on your elbows, feeling the cool air hit your skin as the blanket falls away. You turn your head just in time to see Jake glancing at himself in the small mirror on the wall, running his fingers through his hair again, making sure it still looks good. It’s such a Jake thing to do—caring about how his hair looks even after everything that just happened—and you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

He catches your eye in the reflection, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a lazy grin. “Pull yourself together,” he teases lightly, the heat from earlier still lingering in his tone. “You look a little... well, you know.” His eyes flicker over you in a way that makes you feel warm all over again.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no bite behind it. Instead, you push the covers off and slide out of bed, your legs still a little shaky as you stand. You make your way over to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face and doing your best to hide any signs of what had just happened in the bedroom. The cool water is refreshing, helping you regain some sense of normalcy after the heated intensity of the morning.

When you finally feel composed enough, you step out of the bathroom and make your way through your apartment, finding Jake by the door. He’s already pulling on his shirt, his movements casual and unhurried, as if the last hour hadn’t completely turned your world upside down. He glances at you as you approach, a knowing smile tugging at his lips, but he doesn’t say anything.

The two of you walk out together, the easy silence between you feeling both comfortable and charged, the weight of what just happened lingering in the air between you. The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the parking lot, and for a moment, everything feels almost normal—like this could be any other day.

You head toward your car, the cool morning breeze brushing against your skin, but before you can reach the handle, you feel Jake’s arm snake around your waist. He pulls you close, his body warm against yours as he leans down to press a quick kiss to your temple. The gesture is light and easy, like it’s something he’s done a hundred times before. And maybe he has—but it still feels different now.

Your heart stutters in your chest as the warmth of his lips lingers on your skin. You wait for something more—for him to say something, to acknowledge the shift between you—but instead, Jake gives you a small smile, his signature smirk just barely there, and turns to walk toward his truck.

You blink, watching as he pulls open the door and climbs inside, the engine roaring to life. His truck pulls out of the lot, disappearing around the corner like it’s just another day. Like nothing extraordinary just happened. Like he hasn’t turned your world upside down in the span of a single morning.

And you’re left standing there by your car, fingers still hovering near the door handle, your mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. What just happened? He kissed you goodbye—and went on about his day like it was nothing. Like it was routine.

But it didn’t feel routine, not to you.

Your stomach twists, a confusing swirl of emotions rising inside you. You’re no stranger to Jake’s touch, to the way he holds you close in private, the way he knows exactly how to make you feel good. That was the arrangement—the simple, no-strings-attached setup that the two of you had fallen into. It had worked perfectly at first. Fun, light, uncomplicated. But this morning, something shifted. And it scares you.

You press your lips together, your fingers tightening around your car keys as you replay the morning’s events in your head. The softness in Jake’s kiss. The way he held you like it was more than just a fleeting moment. The way he kissed your shoulder earlier, something so intimate it almost felt like a confession in itself. But none of it made sense. You weren’t supposed to feel like this. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

Right?

You lean against your car for a moment, trying to sort through the haze of emotions clouding your mind. There’s an ache deep in your chest—something that wasn’t there before. It’s that feeling you’ve been trying to ignore for weeks now, the feeling that this wasn’t just about hooking up anymore. Not for you. And maybe not for him either.

But then why did he just leave? Why did he act like this was nothing more than your usual routine?

You bite your lip, trying to shake off the growing uncertainty. Maybe you’re reading too much into it. Maybe this is just what happens when you start spending too much time together outside of the original arrangement. Lines blur, things get messy, and suddenly it’s not just about sex anymore.

But the worst part is, you don’t even know what you want. You don’t know if you’re ready to confront whatever this is becoming. If you’re ready to have that conversation with Jake, to open up the possibility of things going wrong. Because things were good—before they got complicated. Before last night. Before this morning.

You sigh, the cool breeze brushing your hair as you glance toward the empty spot where Jake’s truck had been parked moments ago. Your mind is a jumble of emotions—confusion, longing, fear, and something else you’re not quite ready to name.

What if Jake feels it too? What if he’s just as confused as you are?

But then again... what if he doesn’t?

You unlock your car door and slide into the driver’s seat, the weight of uncertainty heavy on your chest. You don’t know where this is going, or what happens next, but one thing is clear: things have changed between you and Jake. And you can’t go back to the way things were, no matter how much you might want to.

As you sit there, staring out at the quiet street ahead, you wonder if Jake is thinking about you now, if he’s replaying the morning in his mind like you are. Or if, for him, this is still just part of the arrangement—a fun, easy fling that hasn’t crossed any lines.

Your fingers tap against the steering wheel, the echo of Jake’s kiss still lingering on your skin.

You thought you had it all figured out. But now, standing on the edge of something new and uncertain, you realize that maybe—just maybe—you’ve fallen in deeper than you ever intended to.

And the scariest part? You’re not sure if Jake’s ready to follow you there.

[vunblr]

Tangled (#8)

Pairing: Cecaelia! Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Slight Angst. Fluff. Slow Burn. Eventual teratophilia.

Summary: Between fear and fascination, a solitary creature struggles to protect his hidden world -and himself- after an unexpected encounter with a curious human woman makes him question everything he thought he knew about trust, danger, and boundaries.

Word Count: 4k

note: The chapter I wrote turned out to be too extensive, so I decided to post the first part today, so you guys have something to read while I polish the rest when I can -aka, you know what, you dirty little things-.

Previous Chapter

She arrived a bit later than usual, with a short-sleeved dress brushing her knees. Her basket swung lightly at her side as she picked her way across the familiar rocks, pausing when she spotted him.

“Hey,” she called, a little breathless.

Bucky offered a grunt in response, low and noncommittal.

He hadn’t planned to stay long. Just watch, maybe say a few words. But then the wind shifted.

His nostrils flared. Something foreign. Male. Not him.

It was faint, threaded through the fibers of her dress like smoke. His body tensed, and his pupils darkened, as a flick of something primal rose hard and fast in him.

“You were in town,” he said, more statement than question.

She nodded, crouching to set her basket down. “Yeah, this morning.”

He got a little closer, slightly narrowing his eyes. “Who did you meet?”

She blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Who did you meet?” he repeated, voice rougher now.

She tilted her head, with a curious frown pulling between her brows. “Well, Detective,” she said, dryly playful, “the old lady from the yarn shop. Then I grabbed a few groceries.”

He didn’t smile. Instead, he moved closer again, silent and imposing. The way his eyes roved her now were assessing, searching.

“Who is he?” he asked, low and firm.

“Who?”

“The man.”

She stared at him, knitting her brows tighter. “What man?”

His jaw clenched. “The male you let touch you.”

The words dropped like a stone in the water between them.

Her mouth parted in disbelief, the heat of confusion rising in her cheeks. “Excuse me?”

But he was already bristling, the scent clinging to her like a warning was difficult to ignore. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t meant anything by it. His body didn’t understand nuance, only instinct. Only the ache in his chest and the flare of something sharp and unwelcome in his gut.

"You smell like another man."

Her brows shot up at the bluntness of the comment. He was next to her now, silent and solid, with his tendrils half-curled on the rocks around her like restless shadows. Close, but not touching.

“Why would I-” she began, confused, and then her expression cleared. “Oh. Must be… when I was leaving the market, I tripped. Bags and all. Some guy caught me mid-fall.”

She watched his face carefully as she spoke. He didn’t respond, didn’t blink. His pupils were wide, black swallowing blue, and whatever emotion curled in the tight set of his mouth was unreadable.

Something in her bristled. She’d danced around this for too long, his moods, the way he drew close only to retreat again. Sometimes warm, sometimes so distant it left her aching.

And now this?

She lifted her chin, slightly narrowing her eyes. “What is it with you?”

No answer. Just that burning gaze on her.

She took a breath. “Last I checked, I don’t have to report to you about what I do with my time. Or who I meet.”

His jaw ticked, but he didn’t argue. Didn't even look away.

She didn’t either.

“You think it’s about control?” His mouth twitched, not quite a sneer, but something bitter and tight that didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t care who you see.”

A lie, maybe, or something he wanted to believe. “I just didn’t think you’d let someone touch you like that.” He shifted, the coil of his tendrils pulling back slightly, and his jaw was tight like it hurt to speak. “Not when I can’t even let myself.”

“Excuse me?” she snapped, furrowing her brows as she took a step closer. “Elaborate ‘touch me like that’, because stopping me from face-planting into the ground with all my groceries doesn’t exactly sound like some x-rated encounter to me.”

Her finger jabbed lightly against his chest, not hard, but enough to make a point. “And clearly you do care who I see. You wouldn’t be standing here growling questions at me if you didn’t.”

His mouth opened, but nothing came out fast enough.

“And what’s that crap about you don’t let yourself touch me?” she pressed, her voice lower now, more dangerous. “What the hell does that even mean, Bucky? Because from where I’m standing,” she went on, “it’s not that you don’t want to touch me. You did. You held me, curled around me, slept on me like a goddamn cat.”

He flinched, just slightly, but she caught it.

“And then spring came, and suddenly I’m radioactive? You don’t sit close anymore, you barely look at me, and now you’re accusing me of what? Letting some stranger touch me?” She laughed once, bitterly. “I’m not yours.”

That landed. His jaw clenched, and the muscles in his arms flexed before he leaned back a fraction, like her nearness burned. But she didn’t let him retreat.

“You either want me, or you don’t,” she murmured, locking her eyes on his. “But don’t keep treating me like I’m something you’re afraid of and then act possessive the second someone else so much as breathes near me.”

He snapped. Not in anger, but with something raw, tangled in his voice. “I do want you.”

Silence.

His throat bobbed. “I want you so much it hurts. But I don’t know if I’m allowed to. Or what you’d do if I let go.”

There it was. The truth lay bare between them like a wave crashing over the shore, impossible to ignore.

“Why… wouldn’t you be allowed?” she asked softly, with her voice stripped of all bravado. No challenge, only honest curiosity.

He looked at her, and then his gaze dropped low, to the dark, muscular limbs that curled and shifted restlessly around the rock, black and deep blue against the pale stone. They moved like they had a mind of their own, like they were already reaching for her in ways he wouldn’t let them. Wouldn’t let himself.

“I… I don’t mind,” she said softly.

A beat.

Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t take it back. Couldn’t. Not when his expression cracked, just a little. Surprise filtered in his handsome features first, then something else. Hope? No. Something more desperate, more dangerous than that. Like he wanted to believe her, but didn’t dare.

He’d been fighting it. Fighting himself. Telling himself it was unnatural, that he was unnatural for wanting her like that. For needing her with a hunger he’d never allowed before.

Because for someone like him to be wanted, it would take another kind of anomaly.

Another kind of beautiful, impossible aberration.

Someone like her.

He broke.

The restraint he'd clung to like a lifeline slipped through his fingers as he leaned into her, gathering her in his arms and pressing his face into the crook of her neck. His breath hitched as he inhaled her, sharp and deep, like she was the only clean air left in the world. His teeth clicked together once, a small but involuntary sign of the effort it took to keep from losing control.

She didn’t flinch.

Instead, she embraced him without hesitation, one hand firm between his shoulder blades, the other sliding up to cradle the back of his head. Threading her fingers into his damp hair, soothing.

His breathing grew heavier, more erratic.

“I need to touch you,” he said hoarsely, almost pained. “Like… like that time.”

She understood what he meant. She didn’t need him to explain.

“Then… do it,” she murmured into his hair.

He didn’t move for a heartbeat. But the tendrils, those dark limbs already spread over the rocks around her from when he'd first confronted her, began to stir again. Slow, deliberate. They slid from the stone toward her seated form, curling lightly around her calves, her waist, her back. Careful. Testing. Wanting.

She let him.

She exhaled, slow and warm against his temple, with her hands still in his hair, and her posture open. Inviting. Her body reacted to the embrace with something soft and welcoming, and he felt it. The trust.

The acceptance.

And it undid him in ways nothing else ever had.

He let himself sense her again, truly, deeply this time. The tendrils that had curled around her body slid more firmly into place, their rows of soft suckers brushing over her skin with slow, reverent intention. Not bruising. Not even gripping. Just tasting. Reading.

Each shift in her breath, each subtle twitch of muscle or flutter of pulse fed into him like whispers of her truth. Her scent deepened with warmth. Acceptance. Arousal. Not fear.

It overwhelmed him.

He reluctantly drew back from the crook of her neck, pupils wide and chest rising in shallow breaths. He looked at her, unsure what to do with the flood of sensations and the sharp ache of want clawing at his composure.

So she decided for him.

She leaned in and pressed her lips to his, soft, fleeting, almost chaste. But it lit something in him like flame to oil. His kind weren’t foreign to oral intimacy. He knew the language of mouths. Knew what it meant when lips met in surrender.

So he kissed her back.

Not softly.

His mouth claimed hers in a way that left no space for doubt. His hand found her waist, basking in her curves. The kiss deepened, and then, his tongue slid past her lips, slow and deliberate, a single fluid motion that mimicked everything his body ached to do if she let him. A promise. A preview.

He kissed her like he wanted to possess her, to imprint his longing on every part of her body. Like he couldn’t help but show her exactly what he meant when he said he needed to touch her. His tendrils pulsed faintly against her skin in reaction, still reverent but no longer shy, until she was left moaning into his mouth, wanting, needing.

And he, finally, allowed himself to want her back.

She gasped softly into his mouth, grabbing his shoulders, then sliding her fingers down the smooth plane of his damp chest. He slowed down and pulled back just enough to breathe, to look at her with half-lidded eyes. Her lips were enticingly swollen, parted in a daze, and he didn’t resist the urge to lean in again, to trace the curve of her lower lip with his tongue before gently sucking it into his mouth.

It wasn’t just a kiss, it was the kind of kiss that sent ripples down her spine and made warmth bloom low in her belly. And it wasn’t just the way he held her, tendrils tangled around every patch of exposed skin, suckers gently tasting her, reading her, cradling her.

"Well," she managed, trying to gather a few working brain cells through the haze, “that was-”

"Good?" he offered, in a low and warm voice against her pulse point before pressing a teasing nip where her neck met her shoulder.

"Hey!" she yelped, startled.

But he was already soothing the spot with his tongue, with his hands never leaving her skin.

“Sorry,” he murmured, retreating just a little, sliding his gaze away from hers. “I just…”

He exhaled slowly, and she felt the shift before he spoke again.

“You should probably go back.”

“What? Why?” she asked, breath still uneven. “We just-”

“Because,” he cut in quietly. A sigh. “You asked what was wrong with me.”

She went still.

“What’s wrong,” he continued, finally meeting her gaze, “is that it’s mating season for me. And I’m trying really hard not to just-”

“Oh,” she breathed, the single word thick with realization.

She looked at them, at the surreal embrace they were sharing, her body cradled in his tendrils, his upper half still pressed close. Her voice came quieter now, hesitant.

“And… can we?” Her cheeks burned. “I mean, is it even possible-”

“Yes.” His answer came low. “Nothing will result from what we do, but we are compatible to mate.”

“Oh.” She blinked, processing. “So we can-”

“I can be inside you. I can please you.”

“Don’t say it like that!” she nearly squeaked, burying her face in his shoulder.

He pulled back a little, brow furrowed in confusion. “You don’t want me to please you?”

“I do! I just-” she groaned softly, hiding her fluster behind a hand, “it’s embarrassing when you say it that bluntly.”

His throat worked as he swallowed, his gaze searching hers. “So… you are willing to mate with me?”

She exhaled slowly and nodded.

“Not today,” she murmured. “But… yes.”

Bucky stilled.

For a moment, he just looked at her, like he hadn’t quite heard right. Like the ground beneath them had shifted, and he was trying to find his footing. His pupils widened again, and the arms encircling her drew her just a little closer, instinctively.

“You mean that,” he said hoarsely. Not a question. A realization.

She gave a nervous smile but nodded again. “Yeah. I mean it.”

A shudder ran through his body. Not of cold, but of tension, finally beginning to ease. He bowed his head, gently pressing his forehead to hers. His hands cupped her face with surprising care, stroking the edges of her jaw with his thumbs. The tendrils around her twitched, clenching briefly before relaxing again.

“I thought…” he started, then stopped. Swallowed. “I thought I’d ruin it if I told you how much I wanted you.”

She felt his breath on her lips, warm and uneven.

“I’ve never wanted someone like this,” he murmured. “Didn’t think I could.”

Her heart gave a painful thump. She cupped the side of his neck, brushing her thumb over the pulse that fluttered quickly under her touch.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” she said softly. “You’re just… making it hard to breathe a little.”

That pulled a low sound from him -something between a chuckle and a groan- and he leaned in, brushing his nose against her cheek.

“I won’t rush you,” he promised, though his breath betrayed him, shallow and quick where it fanned over her skin.

But even as the words left his mouth, one of his tendrils traced a slow, deliberate path along the side of her calf. A teasing slide, a test of restraint. It didn’t grip, didn’t urge, it simply lingered there, as if trying to memorize the shape of her body.

She shivered, but not from the cold.

“...But I think you should leave for today.” He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, the blues of his irises dark and troubled. “The urges I have right now… they’re not easy to quell. Not during mating season.”

There was no shame in his tone, only quiet frustration. Honesty. “You’d understand it better if you were one of my kind,” he added, almost apologetically. “I want to respect you.”

Her heart gave a little ache to the conflict written across his features. “I wish I could stay with you a little longer,” she said softly, brushing her fingers along the shell of his ear. “But I don’t want to make things harder for you.”

His arms closed tighter around her in response, and a low sound left his throat, something between a sigh and a groan. “Already are,” he muttered against her throat, just before his teeth grazed her skin. He nipped gently at the crook where her neck met her shoulder again, then soothed it with a slow, wet drag of his tongue.

She gasped, and heat sparked in her lower belly.

“I can smell your readiness,” he murmured, with his voice low and wrecked. “I know what I’d find if I just... gave in.”

She didn’t deny it. Couldn’t. “Oh. Y-you can?”

He nodded once, still pressed against her pulse. “Yes,” he said, “And it’s hard not to act with my instincts.”

The tendril on her calf slid upward, languidly, curling along the curve of her thigh with a gentle squeeze. It stopped just shy of anything indecent -barely intentional-before retreating, as if reluctant to leave her warmth behind.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her cheeks heated. The idea that he could smell her arousal -sense it like some undeniable beacon- was as thrilling as it was mortifying. Her body reacted to him so easily, so instinctively, but now she knew he didn’t even need to guess.

She swallowed hard, trying to clear the fog in her mind. The way his tendril slid up her thigh had made her thighs clench, made her want more, but she also needed to think. To breathe. This -whatever was happening between them- wasn’t just physical, at least not for her.

And as much as she wanted him, she needed clarity.

Was this surge of intimacy between them something real, something he chose? Or was it simply the flood of primal instincts tied to his mating season? Was she just… close and willing? Or did he want her beyond this?

She blinked at the sunlight, suddenly hyper-aware of the time. It was still midday. Bright, open, and exposed. Sure, people tended to avoid this stretch of shore, but anyone walking by could see them. See her, practically curled into his chest, his limbs lazily wrapped around her like some sensual sheath.

Her heart beat a little faster, not just from the embarrassment, but the desire to protect whatever was growing between them.

She exhaled, calming herself, and brushed her fingers along his jaw.

“I’ll go,” she said, gently, not pulling away just yet. “But... we need to talk about this. About you and me. Not now,” she added quickly, “but when you feel more… like yourself.”

Her thumb swept across the line of his cheekbone. “I need to know if this is just… instinct. Or if you’d still want me, even when your season is over.”

His gaze focused on her face, conflicted. She could see it, something sharp and heavy behind his eyes that he still hadn’t named.

“I do want you,” he said at last, his voice low and rough with restraint. “It’s not just the season. It just… makes it harder to hide.”

He didn’t say more, but the silence between them stretched, filled with all the things he wouldn’t -couldn’t- admit yet. The things he thought about himself when he was alone in the dark. That maybe he didn’t deserve closeness. That maybe everything he'd done -regardless of how or why- meant he should stay isolated.

But she made it difficult. She made him hope.

His fingers brushed hers briefly. “We’ll talk,” he murmured. “Another day.”

The tendril curled around her thigh loosened, slowly retreating like a wave drawing back into the sea. The others followed, unwinding from her body with reluctant grace, the soft suction releasing her skin with barely audible pops that made her shiver.

His gaze stayed on her for a breath longer, his jaw clenched like he was holding something back, words, urges, things she couldn’t name. Then he dropped his eyes, and his shoulders shifted subtly, drawing in as if he were pulling armor around himself again.

Without another word, he slid into the water, disappearing in a slow, sinuous motion, the tips of his limbs were the last of him to vanish into the surf. A ghost of warmth remained where he’d held her, but the absence felt colder than the breeze rolling in from the sea.

----

That night, under the hot spray of the shower, she let her head rest against the tiled wall, closing her eyes as the water slid over her skin. The day replayed itself in vivid fragments with startling clarity. So it had taken a silly accident -nearly falling on the street- for the truth to slip free. The reason behind his strange, aching distance these past weeks.

Not disinterest. Not discomfort. He’d been struggling. Holding himself back.

She exhaled, covering her face with wet hands, heat blooming in her chest that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. The gifts he’d left her weren’t just gestures of goodwill. They were offerings.

And in land, during those colder months, when he came to her? He still was protective during their visits to town... she remembered how stiff he’d become when men looked at her too long. How he always stood just a little closer than necessary. People noticed -how not to?- some edged away under his relentless stare. It wasn’t just because he worried for her in a friendly way his kind will be. No. He hadn’t been worried. He’d been possessive. Jealous, maybe. Struggling to be better behaved, to rein it in for her sake. And failing, sometimes.

It was there. It had always been there.

He felt the pull, too.

That simple truth rattled around her chest, knocking loose every excuse she’d made for his distance. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her, it was that he did. He’d said so. Had fought himself, tangled in the same storm she had, long before this mating season muddled everything.

She had come to terms with her own desire weeks ago. The tentative glances, the way her body leaned toward him before her mind could stop it. She’d admitted -at least to herself- that what he was didn’t frighten her. That it wasn’t a barrier. If anything, it made her curiosity sharper, and her pull toward him deeper. Maybe there was something objectively wrong with her for that.

But apparently something was wrong with him too, if he felt the same.

Two peculiar -no, let’s say it- two weird beings, each a little off in the eyes of their own kind.

So what was stopping her, then?

----

She had said yes.

Freely. Calmly. Without pressure or fear. She had looked at him and chosen him. And now, Bucky’s body was in overdrive.

It took everything in him not to pounce, not to claim her the second her voice laced with acceptance, the second her body responded with that telltale warmth he could smell, taste, and feel lingering on his skin. He was trembling by the time he pulled away, trembling still hours later as he curled in the dark of his den, panting quietly against the cool stone, trying to calm the storm inside him with nothing but memory and his fucking hand.

He felt like an animal. No, less than one. Unhinged. Fractured by years of solitary mating seasons, of urges swallowed down with saltwater and grit. But this time, it wasn’t just the burn of biology, it was her. The thought of her. The weight of her thighs under his limbs. The way she’d gasped into his mouth, pressed her hands against his skin like she wanted to learn his shape too.

She’d chosen him.

And yet, all he could do was lie there, with ragged breath whispering her name into the dark while the desire and guilt churned in his gut.

Because he still didn’t know if he deserved that yes.

He had told her before he left: it wasn’t just instinct. Not for him. The truth was, he’d been drawn to her from the moment she offered him life. Since he took the form he loathed, and climbed the rocks with legs he barely trusted, just to see if the fragile creature who had shared her essence with him was still breathing.

His kind didn’t attach easily. Didn’t bond unless there was a purpose.

But he had. To her.

And now she had said yes to that thing -the one who had been used, manipulated, made a weapon under human greed- and his heart was caught between euphoria and dread.

She had the right to know.

And more importantly, he had the right to be seen for everything he was, not just the parts he managed to show her through veiled glances and cautious touches.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @civilbucky @thatesqcrush @lonelyghosts-stuff @x-press-it @the-voice-beckons-below @angelilacsworld @dollface-xoxo @mcira @lazyneonrabbitt @vxllys @namjoohnie @sebastians-love @misspendragonsworld @thewriters64 @escapefromrealitylol @hi172826 @wintrsoldrluvr @reddesires @ruexj283 @buckvoidsyy @littlesuniee @kimberly-stocks @pandaxnienke @ladypncl @homiesexuallaj @kulteule @awesompawsum @killerwendigo @princessgriffin1998 @helen-2003 @nynxtea @alagalaska @maryevm

dividers by @/strangergraphics

[angellic4l]

ordinary things - s.r

in which: season2!spencer and sunshine!bau! reader get coffee on their way into work

content: fluff!! idiots in love ofc, reader loveees autumn, no warnings, gn!reader i’m prettyyy sure, barely any dialogue because i’m far too scared of writing something cringy.

a/n: this is my first fic, i’m being BRAVE posting this ‘cause i am SCARED. i hope whoever reads it enjoys it. i’m also aware it is WINTER, but i felt autumn was more fitting, idk. kisses 💋

Autumn, despite the cold, bitter air and dark mornings it brings to Virginia, is beautiful. In your opinion, anyway. That’s why your face lights up at the first pile of leaves you see outside of your usual coffee shop, the red and orange hues bringing a smile to your face. An even bigger smile than the one you so naturally sport, usually wearing it like a tattoo, almost permanent.

You lightly nudge Spencer’s coat clad arm with your own, pointing at the fiery coloured foliage on the floor, like a child who’s just seen snow for the very first time. Of course, it isn’t your first time seeing autumn leaves, but it excites you the same way nevertheless.

“Oh, Spence, look how pretty they are!” You gush about the leaves, your eyes never leaving the pile on the floor beside the coffee shop door. If they did, you’d have seen that Spencer was already looking at you, your light nudge rendered unnecessary to gain his attention. It was yours the whole time.

A faint chuckle sounds in your ears, soft and breathy, delivered to them by Spencer’s lips.

“Pretty, yeah,” he agrees, his eyes trained on you the whole time, never once dipping to the leaves that you’re so captivated by.

Finally turning your head, gaze diverting from the leaves, to look at Spencer, you see the soft smile adorning his face. With a soft nod of his head towards the door, you both finally enter the coffeehouse, Spencer holding the door for you.

The second you walk in, the warmth from the coffee shop envelops you, a nice contrast from the bitter weather outside, and the smell of freshly ground coffee beans fills your nostrils. Oak tables scatter the small shop, red brick walls complimenting them nicely, and small fairy lights hung to complete the warm atmosphere. It’s like walking into a hug; soothing, pleasant, and warm.

Side by side, you and Spencer stroll over to the counter to order your drinks, pleasantries being exchanged between you and the barista because you frequent the shop almost every morning. Once ordered, the two of you stroll over to the side of the counter to wait patiently for your drinks.

—

Coffee in hand, coat and scarf keeping you warm, and a pep in your step, the pair of you walk side by side over to the FBI building. Cars go past as morning commuters make their way to work, the noise a soothing backdrop to a walk to work with your friend while mid conversation.

“I think autumn’s just so beautiful; the leaves and flowers, how even when they’re dying, parting from their vessel of life, are still so beautiful, y’know?” You ramble, walking in step with Spencer to the BAU.

Another soft chuckle elicits from Spencer’s lip, a similar one to his last chuckle outside of the coffee shop. He doesn’t agree with you this time, though. Turning your head to look at him, a nervous giggle escapes your lips when you see him still laughing.

“What?“

“You have the ability to see beauty in the most ordinary things. It’s endearing.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Warmth flushes your face, despite the bitter air outside and you quickly avert your gaze to the pavement in front of you instead. Spencer always has the ability to say the most profound things and every single time, they make you blush.

He blushes slightly too, when you look away. Maybe it’s the weight of his words setting in, or maybe it’s how pretty you look with your face tinted pink because of him.

Either way, the rest of the walk is continued in silence, save for the city’s background noise.

[enwoso]

hi! I absolutely love your alessia russo x child!reader posts. your writing is so good! if you’re up for writing some more for this universe could you maybe do something with reader being a menace with the england girls and causing some trouble? it’s okay if not!

devil in disguise | alessia russo x child!reader

*back with my fave little universe! and don’t worry there are more bits to this little universe i am in the middle of writing them🙃*

grumpy masterlist

alessia had been on england camp since monday and it was now wednesday, you had accompanied her for the short camp.

but since arriving alessia hadn't had the most smooth couple of days like she usually would and that was because she wasn't able to take her eyes off you for more than a few seconds in fear that you would be up to something you shouldn't be.

on top of that she had noticed that a couple of things weren't here that she needed. like her training socks, which she had to go and ask the kit man for some spares putting it down to her forgetting them when being asked why she didn't have them. brushing it off she forgot about it quite quickly, you taking her focus as you were in your little trouble maker mood at the moment.

as the other day alessia had turned her back for one moment and you had vic pelova looking down into a full water bottle telling the dutch that she was looking at something inside the bottle before you squeezed the bottle into her face. ice cold water dripping down the poor dutches face.

today was travel day, the girls were playing back at wembley and had the day to recover after having a light training session early this morning.

everyone was eating breakfast, you had ate yours probably too fast for your mums liking but nevertheless she couldn’t be mad because at least you had eaten. knowing that you couldn’t play until you had eaten majority of your food.

alessia was sat talking with a few of the girls her gaze looking over to you every so often to check you weren't doing something you shouldn't of been doing — instead seeing you just colouring in content while also watching the cartoon that was playing on your ipad.

"so how is the little munchkin?" mary asked as alessia had turned her attention back to the table after checking on you for the fiftieth time in the past three minutes. alessia eyes going wide, pulling a face that said it all.

"that doesn't sound good" georgia pointed out as alessia hummed.

"she's starting to get a little naughty, like the other day i walked into her bedroom and she had drawn all over her walls and then proceeded to say it wasn't her even though she had the pen in her hand." alessia explained the girls trying to stifle their laughter as the blonde spoke.

"did it come off the walls at least?" beth asked as the blonde shook her head, proceeding to explain how her brother was thankfully going to repaint the walls for her.

"didn't she bite someone at nursery as well? tooney was on about that the other day, weren't she" millie commented looking towards mary for back up, the goal keeper nodding. the blonde groaning as she thought back to the day.

"wait you never told us girls this story"

"yeah i wanna hear it!"

"so i went and picked her up as usual after training, and then the teacher pulled me and began to tell me how she had bitten a little boy but when i asked her why she did it she said that the boy bit her first but the teacher never mentioned that part so i don't know what to think!" alessia explained the girls humming along to show that they were listening.

“are we sure she isn’t the devil in disguise?”

"well if he bit her first then her biting him is totally valid" georgia said shrugging mary agreeing mumbling something about it was good she was sticking up for herself — the other two however not as convinced, "yeah but if you give her that excuse, she'll go around biting everyone" beth said as the other two both hummed.

“that’s is true, she did make him a card to say sorry though so-“ alessia shrugged a chuckle coming from her as the others awed at the thought of you sitting and spending your own time to make a card to apologise.

“was the card made before or after you banned her from using pens?” millie asked but before alessia has a chance to reply you were heard yelling to get your mums attention.

"mummy! mummy!" you called over, alessia still talking with the girls, "look mummy!" you appeared a bright smile on your face as you held onto your top holding out a sticker.

“wow! what did you get that for?” your mum asked as she looked to you holding her hand out for you to high five. “i helped one of the coaches-“ you began but as you carried on your explanation, alessia’s eyes went wide your arms were covered in big bright red drawing and doodles you had done all up your arms

"oh my god" your mum whispered to herself, her hand stroking up your arm to find out if the pen was dry or not. "lovie, why have you done that for?" your mum sighed thinking about how on earth she was going to get the pen off.

you shrugged in response to your mums question, a smile on your face clearly happy about the colour of your arms, glancing over to the girls sat around the table who were trying to keep their smiles and laughter in.

"what have you drawn on your arms with?" your mum asked as your ran back over to your little table to grab the pen. alessia's head falling straight into her hands as a loud groan came from her.

"at least she knows what colour north london is!" leah joked trying to bring light to the situation, her and few others the only ones laughing as alessia brought her head back up shooting a dirty look to the captain.

"not the time leah." alessia mumbled through gritted teeth as she saw you running back over. pen in hand.

"this one mummy!" you held out a red sharpie towards the blonde. of course it couldn't have just been a simple crayola pen, it just had to be a permanent marker that you had somehow found.

mentally alessia was screaming, physically she was trying her best not to scream and stay as calm as possible.

"where did you find that lovie" alessia calmly asked as you explained how you got the pen, that you had found it in the pen pot which you weren't exactly lying you did find it in the pen pot but it wasn't your pen pot.

it was the pot that all the adults used but you didn't think they would mind if you borrowed it. alessia could feel her patience running thinner and thinner as the seconds went by.

since the drawing on walls situation at home incident alessia had made sure to hid each and every single pen possible, instead only allowing you to colour with pencils and even still that was under supervision. this was adding to the reasons of why it would be a while until you were able to retain your pen licence back.

"less have you seen my boot-" ella began holding one boot in her hand as she stopped at the sight of you, "woah that's a nasty sunburn tiny!" the manchurian gasped ruffling your hair as few laughs heard from her teammates as she turned to them not knowing what part of the joke she was missing.

"mate, how's she gonna get a tan never mind sunburn when it's seven degrees outside!" beth deadpanned as ella nodded along realising how silly her comment was.

"silly auntie ella, it's pen!" you giggled as ella's eyes went wide. the pieces fixing together but confusion hitting her as she knew about your redecoration of your room and the fact that alessia has hidden every pen in sight. "i thought you had banned her from using pens?"

"i have!"

“the devil in disguise strikes again!”

after many layers of baby oil and tissues most of the pen had came off your arms much to your protests that your mummy was getting rid of your artwork.

you had managed to make it down to the lobby where the team was beginning to gather for the bus arriving, people swarming around with big camera asking some of the girls questions.

you were sat with your mummy, you sat with a small coffee table in front of you. a picture game you had been playing with spread across the table.

"lovie? what's in the backpack?" you mum asked as you struggled to get it on your back, it looking very full. alessia trying to remember if it looked like that when you both arrived on camp.

“just my things” you huffed, the backpack dropping off your shoulder and onto the floor. “what things?” your mum pushed wondering what on earth you could have in your back to make it so heavy considering she had all your clothes, and your ipad in her bag.

“do you want me to carry it for you?” your mum asked as you shook your head mumbling a no as you lifted the bag up with great difficulty onto the seat. “well how about i help you put it on, yeah?” she smiled as you nodded a little admitting defeat.

you picking your backpack back up and passing it to your mummy who was sat down on the chairs in the hotel lobby. you stood in between her legs waiting for her to help you put it on, slotting one arm through the strap and then the other.

you mummy keeping you still for a moment as she pulled the zip a little, showing a glimpse of what was inside. a confused look taking over the blondes face as the sight of things which definitely were not yours.

opening the bag up a little, alessia discovered where her lost training socks along with her headphones she had thought she had forgotten as well as ella’s lost boot, millie’s t’s shin pads, chloe’s water bottle and beth’s slider.

the blonde laughing to herself as she took each item out placing it on her lap, you turning about once you thought you mum had finished putting it the bag on your back. “mummy it feels light- hey there mine!” you frown turning around and seeing the things that were in your bag on her lap.

“lovie, these are the girls’ things” your mum explained, you backpack falling to the ground as your pout got bigger, “but i found them?” you said hopefully that you would be able to keep them.

“i know, but these still belong to the girls and they might be sad if they don’t have them anymore and we don’t want to upset anyone do we?” your mummy smiled softly, as you looked over to some of the girls who were starting to gather in the lobby before it was time to get on the bus, looking back at your mum you shook your head.

“good, now can i give these back to their rightful owners?” your mum laughed slightly as you pout loosened and you nodded. you mum kissing you on the forehead as she sat you on the chair she was on, picking up the items in her hand as you grabbed your ipad to watch. your mummy telling you she would be a few seconds.

the blonde walking over to the little huddle near the coffee machine where beth, ella and millie were. “are you now the lost property box like?” ella joked watching as alessia walked closer to them, millie and beth laughing as alessia sarcastically laughed along.

“one purple boot, two shin pads and a slider!” the blonde smiled as she handed each of them their stuff back. “where did you find these?” beth asked as she looked at her slider.

“lovie, ‘found’ them and she’d put them in her backpack” alessia explained as the three awed as a few giggles followed.

“the devil strikes again!”

[mintyys-blog]

ROUND 2 | kon el kent x reader

DC MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: smut, loss of virginity, random hookups, post sex regret, mention of bad sex, oral sex (fem receiving), swearing.

She didn’t even want to go out that night. But her friends insisted—saying things like “You’re the only virgin left, come on,” and “You need to get it over with already.” They laughed, nudged her, ordered her shots she didn’t really want to drink.

“It’s not a big deal,” one of them said, eyes already scanning the bar. “Just find someone hot, get it done, and you’ll finally stop being so uptight.”

She tried to laugh it off. But deep down, their words stuck. Like there was something wrong with her. Like being a virgin at her age was embarrassing. Outdated. Pathetic.

So when a guy—some tall, cocky stranger with a nice smile and rough hands—started hitting on her, she let it happen. He bought her another drink. He talked a little, touched her back, leaned in too close. It felt rushed. Off. But she told herself it was fine. It’s what her friends wanted for her, right?

She went home with him.

He was rough. Too rough. He didn’t listen. When she flinched, he thought it was a compliment. When she tried to tell him to slow down, he grunted and kept going. There was no foreplay, no care, no consideration. Just sweat and pressure and discomfort.

She didn’t finish.

He did.

Then he rolled off of her, reached for his phone, and without even looking at her, muttered, “I’ll get you an Uber.” No towel. No comfort. No kiss goodbye.

She left. Pulled her clothes on, barely holding it together. The second the Uber door shut behind her, she cried. Quiet, shaking sobs into her hands. She felt disgusted. Dirty. Cheap. That had been her first time. That was supposed to be some kind of milestone.

Instead, she felt hollow. She didn’t tell anyone for days

The next morning, she couldn’t even look at herself in the mirror.

Her body ached in places it shouldn’t. She stared at the marks on her skin like they belonged to someone else. Scratches on her hips, a bruise on her inner thigh—souvenirs from someone who didn’t care. Who didn’t ask. Who didn’t listen.

She showered until the water ran cold, scrubbing herself raw, trying to wash the feeling away. But it clung to her—under her skin, in the pit of her stomach, in the tightness in her throat when she remembered the weight of him, the way he hadn’t even looked at her when he finished.

And worst of all, she hated herself for letting it happen. She thought maybe if she’d spoken up louder, if she’d said no more clearly, if she hadn’t had that second drink—maybe it wouldn’t have gone like that. Maybe it was her fault.

The shame followed her everywhere. She avoided her friends. She ignored their messages. They’d only tease her again if she told them the truth—probably say something like “That’s just how it is the first time,” or “At least now it’s over.”

She didn’t want to hear it.

She didn’t want anyone to know.

She didn’t want to feel the way she felt—used, embarrassed, like she gave away something that should’ve mattered to someone who didn’t.

For a whole week, she barely spoke. She went through the motions: school, home, sleep. But her smile was fake, her eyes tired. She flinched when anyone touched her. Even hugging her parents felt wrong. She couldn’t shake the memory of rough hands and an uncaring voice.

Then one night, she was at Kon-El’s apartment—just the two of them, sharing pizza like usual. He didn’t push her to talk. He never did. But something in his easy grin, in the way he always made space for her to breathe—it made her crack.

She didn’t even plan to say it.

But halfway through a slice, she blurted it out:

“Yeah, did I tell you I lost my virginity?”

Kon froze, the pizza halfway to his mouth.

“Oh! Wow. Uh…” he blinked, trying to catch up. “Congratulations?”

He took a bite to fill the silence, but the second he looked at her—really looked at her—he saw it. Her shoulders were slumped. Her voice had no excitement. Her eyes were heavy.

She wasn’t proud. She was ashamed.

“Don’t congratulate me,” she said bitterly, waving her hand. “It was horrible. I mean—he didn’t even do foreplay. Just rushed into it like I was some kind of warm-up. I didn’t even get to finish, Kon.”

She swallowed hard, the words tasting worse as she spoke them. “And when I told him it hurt, he smiled. Like he was proud of that. Then he came, rolled over, and literally just called me an Uber. That was it. No towel. No ‘are you okay?’ Nothing.”

Kon finished chewing, eyes still on her. He didn’t say anything right away.

She buried her face in her hands. “God. I feel so stupid. Like I waited this long thinking it would mean something—and it was just… awful. I hate that it was with him. I hate that I let my friends talk me into it.”

The room went quiet, her shame thick in the air. Then:

“I could fuck you.”

Her head snapped up, blinking. “What?”

Kon leaned back, finishing his drink like it was nothing. “I mean it. I could give you a good experience. May not be your first—but I could be your second.”

She stared at him, stunned. “You… you’re not joking?”

“Nope.” He shrugged, giving her that classic Kon-El grin. “Why the hell not? Unless you don’t want to. That’s totally cool, Y/N. No pressure.”

“I…” she hesitated, her lips trembling. “I do want to.”

He moved closer. She kissed him—soft, searching. His arms went around her as she climbed into his lap, rolling her hips against him instinctively, like she needed to feel something right for once. Her arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to the only person who’d ever made her feel safe.

Kon pulled back, breath brushing her lips. “You sure about this, Y/N?”

She nodded, eyes locked on his. “Words, baby. I need to hear ‘em.”

“Yes, Kon. I want you.”

And he smiled, warm and sure, before kissing her again—like he meant it. Like she was worth something.

Kon kissed her again, but slower this time.

His hands didn’t rush. They explored—tracing up her sides, fingers brushing the small of her back as he pulled her closer into his lap. Every movement he made was deliberate, patient. He kissed her lips, her jaw, the corner of her mouth, her neck—soft, unhurried, like he wanted her to feel every second of it.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against her skin.

She stiffened for a moment—caught off guard by how sincere he sounded. Like he wasn’t just saying it because she was in his arms, or because they were about to sleep together. He said it like it was a truth, like it had always been a fact.

“You don’t have to say that,” she whispered, fingers curling against his shirt.

“I’m not saying it because I have to,” Kon said, gently lifting her chin so she’d look at him. “I’m saying it because you are. You’re gorgeous, Y/N. Every inch of you.”

She felt her eyes burn, but not from shame this time. From something else. Something tender.

He kissed her again—deeper now, his tongue sliding slowly against hers. And then, as his hands slid under her shirt, he paused.

“Can I take this off?” he asked softly, looking into her eyes.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

He peeled it off carefully, like unwrapping something precious. When he saw her bare skin, he didn’t gawk. He didn’t grab. He just smiled, warm and a little awestruck.

“God, you’re even more beautiful like this,” he breathed.

His hands moved over her body like a promise—up her sides, over her back, tracing along her ribs. When he leaned in to kiss the curve of her breast, she felt her breath hitch, but it wasn’t fear—it was heat. Want. Need.

He laid her back gently on the couch, kissing down her torso, murmuring soft praises between every press of his lips.

“You tell me if something doesn’t feel good,” he said, voice low and serious. “And you tell me what does. I’m here for you, baby. Not for me.”

She nodded, already breathless, already trembling.

He kissed the inside of her thighs slowly, reverently, as if each inch of skin was something sacred. His hands moved in slow, soothing strokes up and down her legs—never greedy, never forceful. Just warm, steady, grounding. She squirmed under the attention, her breath catching each time his lips brushed a little higher, his mouth hovering just close enough to tease but not close enough to satisfy.

Kon glanced up at her from between her legs, his dark eyes hooded but full of warmth. “You’re already shaking, baby,” he murmured, lips grazing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

She nodded, eyes fluttering, her hips subtly rolling toward him—chasing his touch. “Yeah,” she whispered. “But I… I want more.”

He smiled, and it wasn’t cocky. It was proud—proud that she was asking for what she needed. Proud that she was trusting him with her body.

“Then I’ll give you more,” he said gently. “You just keep feeling. Let me handle the rest.”

He started slow—his mouth soft and unhurried, like he was tasting her favorite flavor for the first time. She gasped, hands flying to the couch cushions for balance as he licked a long, slow stripe up her folds. His fingers joined in, teasing at her entrance before sliding in with the same careful patience. He watched every twitch of her stomach, listened for every change in her breathing, adjusting to her like her body was speaking a language only he understood.

His tongue circled her clit in perfect rhythm with the slow curl of his fingers, and her thighs began to tremble around his shoulders. “Kon…” she moaned, her voice cracking. “Oh my god…”

He didn’t answer with words—he just groaned softly against her, like her taste was something divine, like he wanted to drown in her. One hand gripped her hip to steady her, while the other stayed between her legs, working her open with a rhythm that was steady, perfect, unrelenting.

It wasn’t just about getting her off.

It was about undoing all the damage that came before. It was about teaching her that she was allowed to feel good. That her pleasure mattered.

And when her body finally snapped—when her back arched and her hand flew to his hair, tugging tight as her orgasm tore through her—he didn’t stop. He didn’t pull away. He held her through it, guided her through every wave, his tongue still moving as she writhed and gasped his name over and over like a prayer.

She collapsed back into the couch, boneless, blinking up at the ceiling as if seeing stars.

Kon lifted his head slowly, lips glistening, eyes still locked on her face. He reached up, brushed the hair from her forehead, and kissed her inner thigh once more.

“Feel good?” he whispered. “You deserve to feel like that every time.”

She let out a shaky breath, still panting. “I didn’t know I could…”

He crawled back up her body, laying gentle kisses along the way until he hovered over her, resting his forehead against hers. A small smile came on her face. As she caught her breath, blinking through the haze, he kissed the inside of her thigh again. “There she is,” he said, smiling softly. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

She reached for him, and he climbed back up to kiss her again. “You okay?” he whispered, brushing hair from her face.

“Better than okay,” she murmured. “I didn’t know it could feel like that…”

He grinned, cocky and affectionate. “That’s ’cause no one ever gave a damn. I do.”

She cupped his cheek, kissing him again, deeper this time. “I want more. I want you.”

His smile faded into something softer, more reverent. “You sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure.”

And he nodded, holding her gaze. “Then I’m yours, baby. All night.”

Kon stayed above her for a moment, letting her breathe. His forehead rested against hers, and one hand cupped her cheek as if anchoring her back to herself. She looked up at him, eyes still glassy from the high, her lips parted.

He kissed her again—slower than before, deeper, more intense. There was no rush in him. No hunger to flip her over or take control. Just warmth. Devotion. She could feel it in every brush of his lips, every exhale against her skin.

“You’re sure?” he asked again, barely a whisper. “We don’t have to do more. I meant it, Y/N. I’m good just like this.”

She reached up, touching the side of his face. “I want you, Kon. I want all of you.”

His breath hitched. That was all he needed.

He undressed slowly, giving her time to watch him, to admire the way his muscles moved under smooth skin, the way he didn’t shy away or pose or show off—he was just Kon. Strong, steady, grounded. Hers.

When he leaned over her again, they were skin to skin, their bodies aligned like they belonged together.

He kissed her neck, then her collarbone, down the center of her chest, and then back up—like he was memorizing her. His hand slid between them, guiding himself to her carefully. He paused, looking into her eyes one more time.

“This okay?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”

The first push was slow—so achingly slow she swore she could feel every heartbeat between them. Her body tensed on instinct, breath catching as she felt him begin to press inside, stretching her more than she remembered, more than she expected. The last time had been nothing but pressure and pain, something to endure.

But this—this was different.

Kon immediately felt her tighten, and he paused, still halfway in, his lips brushing the edge of her jaw as he whispered, “Breathe, baby. I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.”

The way he said it—soft and steady—grounded her.

She nodded, shakily, and drew in a deep breath, trying to let go of the fear that still lingered in her muscles. He kissed her again, slower this time—her cheek, her jaw, her collarbone—before gently rocking his hips forward, easing in another inch.

She clung to him without even realizing it, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. Her legs lifted instinctively to cradle his hips, drawing him closer, wanting the connection even if the feeling still overwhelmed her.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispered, one hand splaying wide against her lower back while the other gripped her hip. “Just like that. Let me in, baby.”

And she did.

Bit by bit, he slid deeper, filling her at a pace that respected every flinch, every breath. His body didn’t rush hers. It responded to it—syncing to the rhythm of her comfort. His lips never stopped kissing her skin, worshiping her inch by inch until he was finally fully sheathed inside her.

He didn’t move. He didn’t rut. He just held her—his body pressed close, his mouth at her neck, his breath shaky with restraint.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, voice ragged. “So fucking perfect around me.”

She whimpered at the feeling—her body pulsing around him, not in pain, but in surprise. In wonder. There was no sharpness, no sense of being used or rushed. Just warmth and fullness and the electric hum of being wanted.

Truly wanted.

She breathed again, her hands slipping into his hair, her fingers tangling there. “Move,” she whispered, her voice nearly lost against his ear. “Please, Kon.”

He pulled back, just a little, just enough to kiss her again—this time deeper, needier—and then began to move. Slow, controlled thrusts that never left her empty, each one rolling through her like a wave, gentle and purposeful.

He stayed close, his forehead pressed to hers, his hands guiding her hips in time with his own. Every time their bodies met, she felt it deeper—not just physically, but emotionally. He wasn’t just with her. He was there with her, locked in the same moment, reading her every sound, every breath, every shiver.

“Say my name,” he whispered, like a prayer against her lips.

“Kon,” she moaned, voice cracking as her nails dug into his back. “Oh my god…”

“That’s it, baby. That’s all I ever wanna hear.”

Each thrust brought her closer to something she didn’t even realize she’d been craving—not just pleasure, but healing. Trust. A sense of being seen and adored. Her body met his rhythm eagerly now, no longer afraid, no longer holding back. She was opening to him completely, her heart pounding as he made love to her like it meant something.

Because it did.

And he showed her that with every movement, every kiss, every whispered affirmation in her ear as her pleasure built again—this time not just intense, but whole.

“You feel so good,” he whispered against her neck. “So perfect around me.”

She whimpered softly, already overwhelmed by how different it felt. There was no pain this time. No disconnect. Only warmth and weight and the steady, grounding presence of the man above her.

He started to move, slow and deep. Each thrust was precise, angled, patient. He kissed her with every stroke, whispered her name like it was a vow. She felt herself open for him completely, her body responding like it had always been waiting for this. For him.

“You’re doing so good, Y/N,” he breathed. “You feel so amazing. I want this to be everything you should’ve had the first time. I want you to feel everything.”

And she did.

Every roll of his hips sent sparks blooming through her body. Every moan he pulled from her was met with a kiss, a touch, a soft “That’s it, baby.” She felt safe. Wanted. Loved.

Her body moved with his now—no hesitation, no second-guessing, just raw sensation and trust. Every time Kon thrust into her, it sent a rush of warmth curling through her belly, tightening low and deep. The pleasure wasn’t sharp or overwhelming—it was building slowly, steadily, like a flame fanned by his every touch, his every whispered word.

“That’s it, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice rough but still tender, like velvet scraped over stone. “You’re taking me so well. You feel so good—so fucking good.”

Her hands clutched at his back, nails lightly scraping his skin as her head fell back, lips parted in a soundless moan. Her hips rolled up to meet his, their rhythm syncing like they were made for each other. His pace stayed steady—deep, controlled, almost reverent.

“I can feel you getting close,” he said, his breath ragged against her cheek. “Don’t hold it back. Let go for me, baby.”

Her eyes fluttered open, locking on his—dark, soft, full of nothing but her. “I’m trying… I—” Her breath hitched, body tensing.

“You don’t have to try,” he whispered, brushing his lips against hers. “Just feel. I’m right here.”

And with a final thrust that hit just right, his hand slipping between them to press firm, perfect pressure to her clit, her body came undone.

It hit her like a wave—hot, consuming, full. Her back arched off the couch, her thighs trembling around his waist, a cry ripping from her lips as her orgasm tore through her, sharp and sweet and overwhelming in its intensity. She felt everything—every nerve alight, every inch of her body screaming with pleasure as Kon held her through it.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, never breaking rhythm, still moving inside her. “God, you’re so beautiful like this.”

The pulsing of her climax pulled him deeper into his own unraveling. His thrusts grew more uneven, more urgent—but still gentle, still focused on her even as his body neared the edge. He buried his face in her neck, letting out a low, broken moan as he finally let go, hips driving deep one last time as he came with her name on his lips.

They stayed like that for a moment—bodies locked, hearts pounding, breath mingling in the quiet space between them. She could feel him soften inside her, his weight grounding her like an anchor.

Neither of them spoke at first.

He pulled back just enough to look down at her, brushing her hair from her damp forehead. Her eyes were glassy, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from his kisses—but she was smiling. Soft. Real.

“You okay?” he asked, voice hoarse, thumb stroking her cheek.

She nodded slowly. “More than okay…”

He kissed her again, slow and warm, before pulling out gently, carefully. She winced a little, but he was quick to cradle her, murmuring, “Sorry, sorry—I’ve got you,” as he shifted them into a softer position, pulling a nearby blanket over their bodies.

They lay tangled together on the couch, limbs intertwined, the quiet hum of the city outside their only background.

“I… I didn’t know it could be like that,” she whispered eventually, her fingers drawing small circles over his chest.

He looked down at her, then leaned in to kiss her temple. “It should’ve always been like that. You deserved that the first time. Not what that asshole gave you.”

She swallowed hard, nodding.

“But this?” he said, wrapping his arms tighter around her. “This gets to be what you remember now. Not him. Not the pain. This.”

She looked up at him, heart full in her chest. “Thank you, Kon.”

He smiled, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. “No need to thank me, baby. I’d do it all over again. As many times as you want.”

And in that moment—with his arms around her and his words still echoing in her chest—she knew she believed him. This was what it was meant to feel like.

The light that crept in through the blinds was warm and golden, casting soft stripes across the living room floor and the tangled mess of blankets on the couch. Outside, the city moved on as it always did—horns honking, birds calling, distant life churning forward.

But in here, wrapped in Kon’s arms, the world was still.

Y/N blinked awake slowly, eyelids heavy, body sore in the sweetest way. She shifted under the covers, the realization of the night before settling over her like a second skin. Her muscles still hummed, every part of her remembering his touch, his voice, the way he’d made her feel like she was the only person in the universe.

Kon stirred beside her with a sleepy hum, his hand already moving instinctively to pull her closer.

“Morning,” he mumbled against her shoulder, his voice still thick with sleep.

She smiled faintly. “Morning.”

He cracked one eye open and grinned as he looked down at her, tousled and bare beneath the blanket, nestled against his chest. “You’re still here.”

“You expected me to vanish?” she teased, voice soft.

“I don’t know,” he said, brushing her hair away from her face. “Felt too good to be real. I kept thinking if I blinked too fast, you’d disappear.”

She snorted gently and poked at his side. “You’re such a sap.”

“You like it,” he replied with a lazy grin.

She did.

Silence fell again—but not the awkward kind. The quiet where hearts just settle. Where breathing syncs and fingers brush and nothing needs to be said.

“I was scared,” she admitted softly, her voice nearly lost beneath the hum of the morning. “Last night… before. I didn’t know if I’d be able to relax. To trust again.”

Kon looked at her, all the teasing gone from his face. He cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking gently along her jaw. “But you did.”

“Because of you,” she said.

He leaned in, kissing her forehead. “That means everything to me, Y/N.”

They lay there for a few more minutes, until Kon finally groaned and stretched like a cat beneath the blankets. “Alright. I’m gonna say something I probably shouldn’t say right after incredible sex, but… I’m starving.”

Y/N laughed, muffling her face against his shoulder. “You’re always starving.”

“And you’re distracting. So really, this is your fault.”

She swatted his chest, giggling. “Fine. Feed me and I might let you distract me again.”

“Oh?” he said, eyes gleaming. “Is that a promise?”

“Depends on how good the pancakes are.” He grinned, leaning in for one more kiss—slow and sweet, his lips lingering on hers. “Challenge accepted.”

And as he stood up, pulling on a pair of sweats and offering her his T-shirt, she realized she wasn’t ashamed anymore. She wasn’t broken. Not in his arms.

Last night had rewritten her story. And she wasn’t alone in it.

[lexosaurus]

Ghost Boy? In my college class? It's More Likely Than You Think

[ao3 link]

Warnings: None Words: 6,031

****

College was crazy. 

Okay?

There was absolutely no reason why college had to be as insane as it was.

Alright, maybe there was a reason. A reason called, "We have four years to make these students professionals in their chosen field, and some even less time than that."

Danny understood. He really, truly did. He knew that to work in his dream job at NASA, he needed to learn not just how to locate the constellations in the night sky, but also about subjects like chemistry, biology, calculus, physics—a lot of physics.

But seriously, when the hell was a guy supposed to sleep?

Last night's problem set only had five questions, theoretically. But it was run by a completely sadistic site that Vlad himself must have designed—that bastard—because while submitting a correct answer seemed to mark one of the five outlined stars in gold, the site also seemed to be more than happy to remove the gold star if he got a problem incorrect. 

Which meant that the theoretical five-questioned assignment ended up taking Danny many, many more questions than that. 

Just when he had thought the hell was over, he realized he still hadn't begun his paper for his mandatory freshman writing class. So then, he got the absolute pleasure of writing an essay about a stupid, Victorian-era play he didn't read regarding the symbolism of a hat as it related to...foreshadowing, or something. 

He didn't read it. He only signed up for this dumb writing seminar because the timing worked better on his schedule. He'd much rather be taking the writing class about horror novels. But unfortunately, that one happened during his mandatory physics course.

When it was all over and he finally caught sight of his pillow, he was pretty sure he’d shed a single tear. Did he remember sinking into the mattress? Closing his eyes, and drifting off?

No. He didn't. 

He was fucking tired.

But apparently, the universe did actually hate him because instead of being roused by his alarm the next morning, he was shaken by his ghost sense.

Oh yeah, apparently Skulker found his dorm.

Joy!

No seriously, fuck that guy. 

What the hell kind of sick weirdo wants to make a rug out of someone else's skin, anyway? Not to mention that Skulker had no conception of what a good time to hunt was, considering he seriously was trying to start chaos at five in the fucking morning.

Again, fuck that guy.

He only just barely had enough time to fly home, shower, hastily read over and submit his essay (he'd long since learned from high school that he couldn't trust himself that late at night to be coherent), and make a mad dash to his favorite bagel spot on the way to class.

However, the bagel guy—he had a name, Danny was almost sure—must have been under the weather today because, for some reason, he could not stop staring at Danny.

The instinct to run his hand over his face to check for post-fight ectoplasm splatters was a learned reaction at this point. But this time, he couldn't feel anything off. His skin was dry. Cold, like usual, but dry.

"Uh..." The bagel guy continued staring at him slack-jawed.

"Do I have something on my face?" 

That seemed to shake the bagel guy out of his stupor. He blinked, his eyes darting around to catch the eye of a few other customers who, for some reason, were giving Danny a really wide berth.

Did he smell or something? Had he forgotten to put his deodorant on?

Oh god, did his parents do something to make national news again? Did the news use a family photo when reporting the story or something? Why was everyone looking at him? Seriously, what the hell was going on today?

The bagel guy locked eyes with Danny once more, briefly, before darting back down to the register and handing Danny his change. "One everything bagel with cream cheese for the, uh—for—coming right up."

"Thanks," Danny said, trying to be as friendly as possible. Jazz always said that he shouldn't judge people for acting strange. That they could be going through something personal.

So, Danny shook it off. Maybe he missed a chunk of ectoplasm on his hair when he was showering. Skulker had nailed his shoulder pretty well. The green, ecto-infused smoothie he'd sipped that morning was working its magic to mend his skin, but who knew? Maybe a little bit of blood was leaking through his shirt. It wouldn't be the first time that happened, anyway.

Or the last.

Amazingly, he did get his bagel. But when the man handed it to Danny, his eyes were almost popping out of his skull. His heavily accented, "Ah, here is one—ah, your—your bagel," sounded especially halted today. 

But no. The big, gruff bagel guy wouldn't have stuttered. He wouldn't have been nervous to pass a bagel to a tired-looking college student either.

Danny must have misheard. 

He darted down the sidewalk. He was going to be late for class. And it was because of his internal panic that he didn't notice the girl with her nose buried in her cell phone at first. Not until she almost crashed into him, looked up, and nearly jumped out of her skin.

"HOLY SHIT!" she yelled, her hands flailing beside her. Her phone flew out from her fingers and clattered on the pavement.

"Sorry!" Danny scooped up her phone from the ground and handed it to her.

She stared at him as if he were completely insane, making no move to take the phone until Danny leaned forward a little closer and pointedly said, "Here."

Whether or not this girl was hungover or still drunk from whatever party she'd been at the night before, Danny did not have time to work around her brain. He was going to be late for class!

"Fuck," she said, eyes still glued on Danny. She did, however, finally reach out and gently take the offered cell phone.

Which was all he needed.

Mission accomplished, he whirled back around intending on continuing his fast-walk-nearly-run pace to the science building, but caught the eye of a biker who seemed to go into a similar trance as the bagel guy and ended up crashing straight into a parked car.

"Oh my god!" Danny darted over to the strewn biker. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine! Stay back!" the man yelled, struggling up and holding his hand out to block Danny from seeing his face.

Was this guy...cowering at him? Like he was some sort of ghost?

No, no. This was silly. Now Danny was just being paranoid.

"Just stay back!"

An oddly phrased demand, and a little biting at that, but the biker did just crash into a parked car because of Danny and that other girl—who was currently holding her phone up at Danny—so he guessed he could forgive this random dude for being a little snappish.

Danny didn't have time to dwell on this stranger anyway, because holy shit his class was starting in ten minutes and if Danny didn't get his ass to the room right now he was going to be screwed.

So with one more apology to the biker, and one more glance to the strange phone-obsessed girl, Danny adjusted the strap of his bag back over his shoulder and took off down the road.

Not literally took off. Though, he really wanted to jet through the air today. He'd had these urges to duck out of sight and fly to class before, but it never felt so compelling as right now. 

Unfortunately, the street was crowded as shit, and in between classes as it was, the building would likely be crowded too. Finding a discreet place to transform would probably take just as long as running to the classroom like his half-life depended on it. And so, the latter option it was.

Somehow, he managed to make it to class with five minutes to spare. Okay, maybe not somehow. Maybe he did risk using his flight to propel him forward a little bit. Could anyone blame him? 

College was crazy. And anyone who thought they saw a guy not quite touching the ground when he walked could have just as easily been sleep-deprived and were almost certainly hallucinating. Humans couldn't fly! Only ghosts could fly, and Danny Fenton was clearly a human college student just running to class.

Gaslight, gatekeep, ghostboss—or whatever the saying was.

Energy was buzzing in Danny’s veins, and he found it a little difficult to stay in his seat. An aftereffect of only barely using his flight powers, he was sure. His body got a taste of being airborne, and now it didn't want to return to the laws of gravity.

Danny could forgive his ghost core for that. Gravity could be very exhausting sometimes. Especially when he was in the middle of a ghost fight and his enemy was hurling him to the ground. But he was in a lecture, and it would look weird if this random college student was hovering over his seat, so Danny forced his butt onto the chair as he dropped his bag beside him.

Whispers fluttered around him, which wasn't too unusual. People often talked in pleading freak-out whispers to their friends after an especially grueling night of homework.

Danny was about to turn to his chemistry lecture buddy and do the same—because seriously, he was going to have nightmares over that damn assignment for weeks—when he realized that his chemistry buddy was not in his usual seat.

And then, a whisper caught the attention of his enhanced eardrum.

"...ghost..."

"...Phantom..."

Ah, that explained it. 

Oh yeah, it was all coming together now.

They must have been talking about the ghost fight from this morning, the one with Skulker. This city wasn't Amity Park, so the students here weren't exactly used to ghost attacks. Of course, the initial fight was probably very exciting for them.

And, well, his parents probably were on the news that morning, but likely only to be interviewed about the attack. Maybe they ended up rambling about ghostly habits and migration patterns or whatever other bullshit theories they’d been churning with recently.

So then, the bagel guy must have recognized Danny as a Fenton, a child of Jack and Maddie, the infamous, kooky ghost experts.

The effects of that realization were delayed, but when they finally hit, he felt like his brain was hit by a semi-truck. Because, shit. He didn't know if he could deal with his bagel guy knowing who he was. He was going to have to find a new bagel spot, wasn't he? 

Danny craned his neck over to the door. The lecture was supposed to be starting, but his chemistry buddy was nowhere to be found.

But then, to his immense relief that he wouldn't have to suffer through this lecture by himself, the door opened to reveal the tall, lanky form of Cameron, his chemistry buddy.

Danny eagerly moved his bag out of the way of Cam's seat, his woes of that fucking assignment hot on his lips, but before he could begin his trauma-dumping session, something strange happened.

Really, really strange.

As Cam began habitually walking over to his seat, he looked up, caught Danny's eye, and froze.

His mouth parted into a perfect 'o,' his eyes widened, and his eyebrows disappeared under his hairline. Then, he backed up, caught the bewildered expression of another student near him, and moved to another aisle.

Danny sat there too stunned to call out to Cam, though the intent was at the precipice of his being. Hurt stabbed his gut, and the social anxiety the A-List had trained his brain for in high school started creeping up his spine.

Did Danny do something wrong? 

Why had Cam moved away?

What did that look to the other kid mean?

He tried to think of a reason why Cam might have suddenly decided that Danny was a weirdo freak that should be avoided, but the only thing he remembered doing between yesterday and today was the two texts he'd sent at eleven last night complaining about the assignment. But surely, everyone had complained, right?

Or was the assignment genuinely effortless for everyone? And Danny was just an idiot who didn't understand some really simple concept, and now Cam had suddenly realized that he'd picked the wrong chemistry buddy to sit next to in class?

That must have been it.

Why else had he moved away?

Danny turned around, looking to the back of the lecture hall. But all he could see was a sea of faces all looking at him.

Okay, honestly, what the fuck was wrong with everyone today?

He whipped out his phone, paranoia striking through his gut like a spear. Maybe he'd accidentally revealed himself during the fight? But he checked Google, searching for Phantom's human identity, but all he got at the top of the search were old Reddit threads theorizing about which historical figure he could have been, and celebrity news sites spouting completely absurd clickbait-type theories about his past.

Is Danny Phantom Napoleon's son?

Could Danny Phantom be Related to George Washington?

New Theory Suggests Danny Phantom is Alexander the Great!

Yeah, like Danny was leading legions of ghosts around Europe anytime soon.

As Danny wracked his brain for what the hell he'd done to deserve the wrath of having his classmates stare at him like he was some sort of weird alien species and everyone was plotting on how to initiate first contact, the side door opened and the professor came darting in the hall with a stack of folders all but falling out of his hands and a muttering of breathy, "sorry, sorry," light on his lips.

The muttering broke out into jilted, uncomfortable laughter, and Danny still couldn't help the feeling that they were laughing at him. 

He tried to brush that off as just the remnants of his high school on him and keep his attention focused on his short, salt-and-pepper-haired professor who looked like he couldn't remember if he was going to a beach party or Burning Man today, and decided to dress for both. 

Yang put the manila folders down on the front table, miraculously without spilling any of the contents inside, set his bag down on the rolling chair beside him, and picked up a piece of chalk to face the board.

He held a hand up and began writing Chemistry 101 — Stoichiometry on the board.

Behind Danny, the snickers grew louder. 

Was there some inside joke that he just wasn't getting? Had his classmates prepared some sort of prank for the teacher today and Danny hadn't read the email? Was it April Fool's Day, even though logic and reasoning told Danny that it was only October?

"Sorry I was late, everyone," Yang began. "Now if you don't mind, I want to begin by going over a few problems from last night's assignment. I noticed a pattern in the problems everyone was getting wrong..."

Someone coughed rather obnoxiously behind him.

Danny felt ice begin to build in his stomach. 

"...so as you can see here, I noticed a lot of people forgot to calculate the used excess of iron to find the amount of excess reactants. Remember, guys, you can't just subtract the bigger and smaller masses in the problem..."

Another obnoxious cough. 

Yang didn't break stride. "...you have to actually convert it to moles and set up your mole ratio, and then convert back to grams. I mentioned this in class but it seemed like too many of you—"

"Professor Yang?" the impatient voice of Brittany, one of his classmates, said from behind.

The class broke out in a fit of whispers and giggles, this time not even trying to hide their restlessness.

"What is it?" Yang turned around, his chalk still hovering on the board.

And then he looked at Danny. His eyes bugged out like a cartoon, sticking out beyond the rims of his glasses. His jaw opened and closed like a fish, and he dropped the chalk on the floor.

Now, the class was roaring with noise.

Danny stared eye-to-eye with the professor for ten seconds or ten minutes. He didn't know which, and it didn't matter anyway, because then Yang's thin lips opened to exclaim a word that may as well have electrocuted him all over again:

"Phantom?" 

Confusion and panic hit Danny like a sledgehammer.

How did Yang know he was Phantom? Had he been revealed? Did everyone know he was Phantom?

And then he heard the whispers. 

"It's really him! It's Phantom!"

"Why is he here?"

"It's Phantom!"

No!

No!

How did everyone know his secret?

Danny had to stop this.

He had over four years of hiding his ghost half from his parents, the world, and most impressively, his parents. Over the years, he'd honed his ability at lying and using his silver tongue to smooth over situations with such practiced ease, he was expecting his Oscar in the mail any day now.

Which is why, like an utter pro, he jumped up from his seat and shouted, "It's a lie, I'm not a ghost!"

The room went silent, and then was launched into a frenzy.

"Phantom!"

"Is he delusional?"

"It's really him! It's Phantom!"

His panic was bordering on hysteria as it stampeded over him, beating his core so furiously that Danny thought it was going to jump through his ribcage.

He stood, his gloved hands held out in front of him as he began his best at pleading with the masses, but before he could grovel too much, Professor Yang's voice sliced through him like a knife, calling out, "Phantom! What are you doing in my class?"

Wait...

Gloved hand?

Danny looked at his hands again. They were gloved.

And glowing.

The relief was so heavy on his shoulders, his back, and every inch of his skin. It was also mortifying.

Because here he was, in his Chemistry 101 class not as Fenton, but as Phantom. 

"Holy shit," Danny muttered. 

What. The. Hell.

No, really.

What the hell?

How was this happening?

Had he really been so tired that he'd forgotten to change out of his Phantom form after Skulker's fight?

No, hang on—had he been walking around in his Phantom form all morning?

How had he not noticed?

Then all the memories came flying back to him at once. The bagel guy acting weird, staring at him like he wasn't sure if he should seriously give a ghost a bagel because "Do ghosts need to eat? Is human food poison?"

And then the girl. She hadn't screamed because she nearly crashed into a stranger, she screamed and threw her phone in the air because she'd nearly crashed into Phantom. And that's why she was recording him after, too. She was recording Phantom, a ghost that wasn't native to this college town.

Danny thought he'd die of cringe-fail right there because that meant she also recorded the biker crashing into a parked car and was probably uploading it to TikTok later. He was sure it would be trending in minutes.

That was, if she hadn't already uploaded it to Tiktok, and it wasn't already trending. His phone suddenly felt heavy in his pocket. 

He looked around at the faces of intrigue and excitement, feebly attempting to squash the anxiety that was currently tap dancing over his skin.  Okay, so his initial attempt at acting hadn't gone so well. That was okay; nobody could be perfect all the time. If he just channeled the inner cool and suave hero that he was, he could totally save the situation.

For sure.

He floated a few feet in the air. His legs felt awkward sprawled out, and he tried to form a ghost-tail, but somehow his sense of self was too strong for that today. No matter, to balance it out, he splayed his arms out wide and began doing jazz hands, saying, "It's me! Danny Phantom! Just here checking your classroom for ghosts!" 

There was a moment of collective pause before his brain caught up with what his mouth said, and then he scrambled, making a big show of ducking around the room to search for...ghosts, or something. He lowered to the floor to check under the auditorium chairs, flew to the front of the room to peek around the tables, and finally went up to the ceiling to glance around the four corners of the room.

Once he felt embarrassed enough, he stopped in the center of the room, puffed out his chest, and said, "Good news, citizens! There are no ghosts in this room!"

Whispers and mutters once again broke out from his classmates, along with a few giggles. In the front of the classroom, Yang's head was craned up to look at him, his expression showing pure bafflement. 

Okay, Danny was bombing this set. He was catching onto the vibe of the room, and had come to this very astute conclusion: there was no saving this. 

Time to abort the mission.

"Well, that will be all! Have a fun class learning about chemistry!" 

And then, without another word, he jetted through the wall and into the hallway of the building, turning invisible immediately. Fortunately, with classes having started several minutes ago, the corridors were mostly empty. Only a few stragglers remained, booking it down the halls and trying to duck inconspicuously into their classrooms. 

Danny cut around a corner of the hall where, thankfully, no one was standing. That didn't stop him from triple-checking over his shoulder (it was just the water fountain, Danny) before he let his ring wash over him.

Then, when he was sure he was human again this time, he ran down the hall and pushed open the auditorium door to his class which, by the looks of things, hadn't calmed down from their encounter yet.

The door hit the wall with a bang—oops, he thought he hadn't pushed so hard—and then every head was turned to him.

"Sorry!" Danny rubbed the back of his neck and gestured vaguely to the clock on the wall. "I lost track of time."

The room was...silent. Incredibly, confoundingly silent. 

That wasn't good.

On instinct, Danny glanced down again to make sure that he was wearing his red hoodie and blue jeans and not his Phantom black and white jumpsuit. He was, in fact, wearing the right clothes. And out of the corners of his eyes, he saw the glint of his black bangs.

So then, what the fuck?

Alright, there was no need to panic. He was human, his classmates were human, they'd just met Phantom, and now Danny was busting in the classroom late. It wouldn't be the first time he was late to class, anyway. Lots of students were late for chemistry! 

With his brain sufficiently pep-talked, he pointed as inconspicuously to his seat as he could and said, "I'll just...take my seat." 

No one responded, so he took that as his cue to begin his walk of shame up the steps of the auditorium aisles to his usual seat near the front, which was still amazingly void of students anywhere near it.

"Phantom?" a voice rang out from the spattering of students around the room.

Danny missed the next step and ate shit on the floor. His bag hit his back heavily, and he could have sworn his shoe nearly flew off his feet. He scrambled to stand, his hand missing the railing only once, before he managed to stand back proud and tall. Sort of. His backpack had slid off one shoulder, and his body was hunched forward and he tried to regain his breath because holy shit, it actually really hurt for his torso to land on the corner of the step.

He rubbed his sternum, sure it was going to bruise, and coughed out, "Uh—what?"

"Phantom!" the voice, now too familiar, repeated. "You're him. Phantom."

Danny glanced up, and dread not only slammed into him with the force of a semi, but also backed up and floored it into his soul again. And again.

Because that voice was none other than his Chem 101 buddy, Cam.

No, Danny was a magnificent actor. He surely could save this one.

What did people always say? Something about the third try being a charm?

He could really use a charm right now. Unfortunately, Murphy seemed keen on watching him suffer instead.

"No—no way! I'm not a ghost! I'm totally human, guys! See?" Danny said with quite a lot of conviction, waving his hands beside his body like some sort of circus display.

It was so conclusive of a performance, that Cam simply laughed. 

Shit. This was not how he wanted today to go at all.

"I can't believe I never put it together before! Did people really buy that in your hometown?" 

"What act? I'm not acting!" Danny insisted.

But his classmates, it seemed, were even less convinced. 

"Seriously, it's so obvious."

"How did no one notice?"

"They're literally the same person it's crazy."

"What? No! No we're not the same person!" Danny insisted, trying not to sound desperate and hopelessly failing. "He's my—uh—twin? Yeah, that. He's my twin."

"He's obviously not," a classmate said.

"He is. He died in the womb," Danny refuted.

"Okay, now you're just being ridiculous."

"Does it sound better or worse if I say that my mother drank ectoplasmic smoothies while she was pregnant and that's why he turned into a ghost?"

"Fenton!" Professor Yang called out.

Danny felt his blood turn so cold they started forming frost in his veins. 

And then, he refused to look down because he was pretty sure ice crystals were glueing his feet to the floor.

In his panic, he'd totally forgotten that this was, in fact, a classroom. With a professor. And not just any professor, his chemistry professor. As in, the guy that had the sole power of crushing all of Danny's dreams of working for NASA via the power of the curve.

Yang took a step back, colliding with the chalkboard behind him and smearing white dust all over his brightly-colored shirt. But he ignored this, instead finding it more pertinent to fold his arms and regard Danny with a look of pure incredulation. "Are you really Phantom?"

"What? No!" Danny said. However, as luck would have it, that gasping answer caused him to inhale the wrong way, and coughs shot up his throat to overtake his body.

And then like the valiant superhero he was, he began having a coughing fit. In front of his classmates.

He knew Sam and Tucker always called him a dork, but this was really unfair.

"You okay, Phantom?" one student asked.

Danny tried to argue, "I'm not Phantom," but unfortunately for him, he hadn't stopped coughing yet.

Taking his silence for a confirmation that he was in fact the elusive ghost known as Phantom, another classmate commented, "I didn't know Phantom breathed."

Not-so-quiet whispers and mutters broke out around the class at once discussing theories of his cardiovascular system.

All while Danny was doubled over, trying desperately to reclaim what little of his dignity was still left. As well as reclaim some of the oxygen that his body seemed more than willing to push away for some reason.

Seriously, was he out of karma yet? 

Okay, Universe, if this is your way getting back at me for reading the Cliffnotes of that book for the essay last night, I get it. Cheating is bad, blah blah blah. I'm very sorry in a deeply remorseful way, so can we please stop ruining my life now?

"...so he wouldn't need to breathe!" A classmate's voice had stepped above the rest.

"That's what I said!"

"Dude, he's literally fallen asleep on my floor once. I'm telling you he needs to breathe."

That voice must have been Cam's.

Danny took a deep breath, regaining control of his lungs. "Wait, guys!"

But it was too late. And, oh god, why were people now giggling over their phones? Had someone taken a video of him earlier? Was he trending online right now?

If this got back to Sam and Tucker, he was never going to live this down. 

"Okay, okay!" Yang's voice rose in volume. "Class, settle down!"

The class went silent.

"Alright, I know we are all curious to know about Fenton's secret double life—"

"I don't have a secret double life!"

"Sure you don't, Phantom," Cam said.

"—But please, we do actually have quite a bit of material to cover today, judging by the very impressive homework scores from last night. And, by the way, class, might I remind you all that my office hours are on Mondays and Wednesdays from two to four. I won't name names, but I'll just say that if you need to make it a point to come for some review, you know who you are."

Was Yang looking at him?

"Regardless, if Fenton is done screwing around with his ghost powers, we do need to get through the material sometime this year."

"But I'm not a ghost!" Danny protested.

"Dude, you're standing in a block of ice," a classmate argued. 

"Holy shit, he froze his legs to the floor!"

Danny felt frost on his cheeks. "The A/C system is broken! Everyone knows that!"

"The ice is glowing." 

"So? A lot of ice glows."

"Fenton, please." Yang had never sounded so disappointed in his life. "I'd expect anyone in this class to know that ice is made of which elements?"

Danny hated where this was going. "Hydrogen and oxygen."

"And please describe the bonds to me."

"The hydrogens have a double bond with the oxygen, and then there's two pairs of electrons leftover."

"What shape?" Yang pressed, pushing his wiry glasses up his nose.

"Bent."

"Good, thank you. So we have two hydrogen and one oxygen in an H20 molecule, yes? And so tell me, would that configuration with those two elements cause anything to glow?"

"Um, no." Danny had the sudden urge to die. "Water does not glow." 

"But, interestingly, ectoplasmic water does glow, correct? Because....?"

They'd touched over ecton science earlier in the semester. "Because ectons are larger and can sit closer to the nucleus which results in atoms fusing and due to the greater amounts of energy they emit, some this excess energy can be seen in our visible spectrum."

Yang smiled and then gestured to the seat devoid of any humans near it that Danny, previously Phantom, had been sitting in at the start of class. "Thank you, Mr. Phantom. Now, if we're all done dillydallying, we have some stoichiometry to go over."

It took Danny more than a second of the awkward silence that followed to realize that oh yeah, his feet were literally frozen in place.

"So..." He glanced around the room, meeting the expectant gazes of his classmates. "Just to be clear, none of you care that I might potentially be..."

A ghost?

Phantom?

Some sort of weird mutant hybrid thing?

"Danny, you're the only one making a big deal out of this," a classmate answered.

Danny guffawed.

"Yeah, it's whatever. You're dead, so what? We're all dead in college. You're not special."

"I have a biology lecture later right after this for my weed-out course and going to that is basically the same thing as dying, I'm pretty sure," Cam joined in.

Danny resisted the urge to smack his forehead with his open palm.

He turned back to Yang. "And if I were maybe the—uh—being that kind of has saved humanity from being invaded by ghosts give or take one or two times, would that maybe get me extra credit on the next test?"

"No."

Well, that was a brutally quick response.

Danny shrugged. "It was worth a shot." He reigned in on his core's fluttering, and the ice began to melt around his feet. 

He tried to ignore the obvious phone flipped his way as he did.

Shit, this was going to be all over social media later. How embarrassing. He could only hope that Tucker wouldn't find it. But who was he kidding? If he checked his phone, he bet he already had about sixteen messages from Tucker laughing at his misfortune.

Once he finished freeing himself from his ecto-ice like some ghost toddler, he began a very graceful and humiliating trek to his seat, complete with multiple instances of him bumping into chairs as he trudged down the row. When he finally reached his seat, it was just his luck that the rusty hinges let out an obnoxious creaking wail as he lowered himself down. He winced, hissing out apologies, but in the silent hall, the sounds of the withered metal were almost too much to bear.

It was for that reason that his entire body refused to unclench until the professor was well underway with his lecture about excess reactants and whatever else they were going to be quizzed on next week.

He tried his best to pay attention and not check his phone for the no doubt endless notifications. He'd already made his presence too obvious in this hall, anyway. Professor Yang would have been thoroughly annoyed if, after everything, Danny decided to spend the remainder of the class on his phone.

Miraculous as it was, he did manage to survive the lecture.  

After class when he finally was able to check his phone, he saw that the world was too focused on the viral posts about Phantom being spotted outside of Amity Park to give any attention to the little itty bitty post of Danny, in human form, frozen to his lecture hall floor.

As it turned out, that post only had two likes—one of them was Tucker—and one comment from a random user reading, "lol why phantom freeze that dweeby kid to the ground???"

Danny didn't resist the urge to facepalm this time, and in fact did it so hard he was surprised he didn't give himself a concussion.

Well.

At least his secret was safe.

****

"You really don't care that I'm Phantom, do you?" Danny asked, looking up from the barely clean dorm room floor that his back was currently stretched out against.

"No?" Cam glanced from his notebook. "Why?"

"Uh, I figured the whole part where I'm a part ghost would have been a little weird?"

Cam's thin brows shot up to his hairline. "You're only a part ghost?"

"Yeah? Why, what did you think?"

"Oh, I just figured you were legit dead or something."

Cam uttered those words with such nonchalance that Danny reacted immediately, shooting up from the floor so hard he accidentally switched into his Phantom form.

"You thought I was dead?" His voice echoed when he spoke, and his ghostly tail wiggled underneath him. 

Cam's pointed look and handwave were explanation enough.

"Okay, you know what? That's fair." Danny swiped his notebook off the floor and forced his adrenaline-spiked body back into human form. "That's actually super fair."

"Yeah I mean, being a ghost is sort of Phantom's whole shtick, anyway."

"Right but like...wait, you didn't even care that you thought I was a fully dead and deceased ghost taking college classes? And you still wanted to do homework with me tonight?"

Cam, once again, only gave a very lazy shrug. "Well, yeah. I just want to pass this class, dude, and we've already established that we should tag-team team this class instead of trying to rawdog it by ourselves."

"I mean...I guess?" Danny blinked at his friend, his mind reeling with astonishment. "You're weird, you know that?"

"Says the ghost-human person or whatever. Now, are we gonna finish this prelab assignment, or are you gonna keep having an existential crisis about your place in the Universe?" 

Danny slid back on the floor, propping his knees up to lay his notebook against. "No, you're right. We need to finish this prelab."

"Thank fucking god."

****

[read more of my stuff here]

[velvet-paradox]

Secured (Part One)

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: König x Female reader Summary: wanting a little slower pace in his military career, König takes a calmer, desk job while he recovers. After a bit of a mix up on shifts, König is now in charge of what comes next. (I've been watching The Night Agent and got inspired!) Length: Medium Warnings: explicit content, strong language, eventual NSFW. ENJOY!

König had fully intended to listen to his mother's concerns the last time he visited her cozy little cottage on the hillside. Tended-to garden, trimmed up grass from the helpful lads that lived just down the road. He'd been injured, shot in the shoulder where conditioned muscle met bone, got treated and sent home with strict orders to take it easy.

Relax.

Live a little.

And he did just that.

Enjoying his time with is mother, resurfacing memories of when he was a boy, less scarred and jovial then the man posted up on her afghan covered couch. Physical therapy was bitch, even a pint couldn't stoke off the fire that burned into his joints.

He was also enjoying homecooked meals and not the usual mess hall offerings or freeze dried lumps they'd slap tantalizing names on the plain, brown packaging, as the stuff inside were actually up to snuff.

Ja right!

"You ought to settle down now , König. You have been fighting for most of your life, you should be living, traveling and seeing the world with the love of your life under arm. Don't you want that?"

Of course he did.

Most of his life were acts of service, finished deeds, quotas. Filling out paperwork, signing classified documents, pursuing the worst of the worst, taking down targets, letting his life on the actual line for the greater good.

Did a certain foreign dictator need to be 'rescued' from their senate floor and taken to an undisclosed location and threated, beaten and broken for an extended amount of time until intel was finally given through broken teeth and a bloody jaw? Perhaps.

Was a 'missing' senator maybe not so missing after all under the clutches of the Austrian and with good reason, added sex trafficking was highly frowned upon and under his high ranking position too? Not on his watch.

Yes blood was on his hands, in his hair, in his mouth but those same hands wanted to also be washed clean, to hold another, to touch another.

Sometimes he'd feel unworthy, all these acts, all these years in the military formed the man laying in his bed, the same four walls that molded him, crafted him like clay. That maybe all his hard work wasn't worth all the damage. His shoulder screamed when rubbed his hands over his face.

….

"How she doin'?" Sebastian Krueger asked the following morning, sipping tea from one his mothers' glass cabinets, sitting across from König at a little table and chair set behind the cottage. He'd already eaten two biscuits was not so subtly eyeing the third one of the decorative plate.

"Mother is well, she'll be back from the market soon. You should stay for dinner, I have half a mind that she is trying to fatten me up like some Christmas goose!"

"You know I wasn't going to say any-"

"Then don't!"

Krueger chuckled and broke off half the biscuit instead.

"She must be happy to have you home for a bit, not off on field duty."

"A little too happy," König took a long, hot sip, savoring the honey on his tongue. "She thinks I should settle down, find a partner, live life while I still can."

"Is she wrong?"

"Nein. I want those things as well, Seb. I just don't know where to start! I've been on deployment after deployment, cots, and safe houses since I was seventeen. How do I talk to a woman about a life like that? One isn't going to just fall into my lap, you know?"

"I could set you up with someone if you like?"

"Yeah right," König snorted and finished his tea. "I'm not taking fucking dating advice from you."

"Why not?" Krueger eyed him, expression laden all the way up to his hairline.

"Because smart pants, you don't know any women to set me up with!"

Krueger pondered his words, eyes narrow, mouth opening and closing, lost in thought he just grunted and finished off the rest of that biscuit in defeat.

"It is smarty pants by the way!"

König heard Sebastian shout as he made his way through the threshold of the open back door to refill their cups.

….

Four months.

Four months of softly changing his sheets, helping his mother about the house, going for runs through the jagged hills, splashing his face with fresh creek water, chewing on wild growing ramps. Bringing back little rocks to add to his mother under-window flower beds, he'd done so since he was a knee high boy. She had saved them all of course.

He was starting to lose his mind, the pain meds his doktor had prescribed sat half full on the nightstand, he took them as needed but for the most part he punished himself, testing his own pain tolerance as means of an endurance challenge of sorts. He needed to do something, anything, to get out of the house.

Sebastian suggested he come back to work, take a desk job, fill out reports, that sort of thing to make his life a little more interesting until he was medically cleared for field operations.

"I know of another type of job, real laid back, you don't have to do too much physically." Kruger had mentioned one sunny, yet cold afternoon.

"Like what?"

"Ever heard of Night Division?"

"Nein, I have not." König had answered, a query on his mask covered face. Sounded interesting.

"There is a reason for that, it is a top secret op, need to know basis," Krueger pulled him in close on their walk through the base, stopping by the archway that lead to the rec room. "If you want in, let me know, I'll get you clearance and I'll walk you through it. If not; not harm, no foul."

König considered it, contemplated it for the rest of the day. He was feeling a bit down, his shoulder throbbed something fucking fierce every fours or so, letting him know he was still in the healing stages, still on the mend. But a cushy little desk job, keep him occupied, maybe he could get caught up on a few books he'd started and had to put down or leave behind, relax at a desk like he had when he first started out after basic. He could do something like that.

Sebastian was right; this job would keep dinner on the table and the lights on. It was simple enough as well, answer the phone when it rang and flashed burnt orange (according to Krueger this phone hadn't actually rung in two months). Monitor the actions, pay attention to the caller in need of assistance, ask the appropriate questions in order to render aid.

König brought a thermos and a water bottle full of ice. He was afforded a notepad and pen, a binder in the top right drawer of a silver desk, the left held a rolodex of people who might be calling in need.

He'd been at it for two weeks now, no phone calls, caught up on three books already as he reclined back in the softest office chair he's ever sat his behind in. Ankles locked, boots on the table reading, belly full. Then it happened.

The phone rang, a shrill sound that damn near rocked him right out of that chair! His book fell to the floor, loosing his page instantly. The orange flashed urgently as König scrambled to get out his notebook to take notes and location, the binder that held random question whoever was on Night Division duties to ask to make sure they were truly talking to who they were supposed to. The phone number as Krueger had told him was only given out to military, not a simple phone number one might find scribbled on a folded up post-it or bar napkin.

König cleared his throat and picked up the receiver, holding it tightly to his ear.

"Hallo, what is the color of the day?" König asked, clicked pen at the ready and pressed onto the first page.

"What? I don't know! I need help." A frantic woman hushed her voice into the phone, he could some shuffling and light grunting.

"Ma'am, I need the color of the day before I can assist you."

"I don't fucking know! Please help me." The woman gasped and he could hear something close.

"Miss this is a very secure line-"

"I know that. Night Division, right? My brother said if anything suspicious happened while he was deployed, I should call this number immediately. Which is what I am doing!"

"Without the color, miss-"

"Please, sir. There's two people breaking into the house, their looking for something. I don't want them to find me. There's a crawl space in my brothers' closet, that's where I am." The woman rasped, panic in her voice made König uneasy, things could get messy fast, he knew that first hand.

"I do not know your location."

"There's a rolodex in the top left drawer of your desk, my brothers' name and address are in there. And hurry!" She growled lowly.

"Name?"

"[REDACTED]."

"I'll send over someone."

"What? You're not coming?" The woman almost sounded offended, as if he had stood her up on a date or backed out of a last minute party.

"This is my station, miss. I can't leave my post, another call might come through."

The pregnant pause made him even more uneasy, as he wrote down the boyfriend's name and address with three scratches of his pen below it.

"I don't want to die like this." The woman exclaimed with a sniffle.

….

Much to König's surprise when he told his supervisors that a phone call had come in, he didn't realize that meant he was the one to answer it meant that in the very sense. Another selected Night Division advocate would take his place.

They handed him a standard service weapon, shoved a bullet proof vest to his bulky chest and sent out on his way. He even got to pick which company car from the lot. The SUV handled beautifully, the screen on the dash showing the coordinates to the Division caller. He cut the lights as he turned down the block, a quiet, wet residential street. Most of the cars were put away in their garages, all but one.

König memorized the plate, just in case things got hairy.

He could see movement in the house, shadows dancing in the low light. He narrowed his eyes, and softly exited the vehicle, approaching the house like the thieves already inside. König maneuvered around the back of the house, rolling his bad shoulder before kicking open the back door. He could hear muffled voices from inside, startled footsteps, a new magazine is put into a weapon that stands no chance against the man advancing in the darkness, especially when he flips down his night vision goggles.

"Whoever the hell you are, you owe me a new door asshole!" A raspy man calls in the dark.

"Sorry. Are you [REDEACTED]?" König asked, already knowing the answer.

"Who?"

"Didn't think so!"

König held his gun steady as rain, aimed true at one of the intruders. The man before him was crouched and steadily raising to his feet in the foyer, hands up.

"Do not do anything stupid, well more stupid than breaking into someone's house."

"Easy big guy, [REDACTED] is my brother, he asked me to check on the place while he's on vacation."

"Vacation, ja? Where to?"

"Uh Spain I believe he said." The man mumbled something.

"Then why are you in the dark? Go ahead and turn the lights." König suggested.

The man reacted by reaching behind him and swiftly pulled out a blade, the metal glinting in the darkness.

Big mistake.

Though König is on the larger scale in terms of height and weight, he is quite agile, a superb trait and bonus to his career. The blade came right at him but was easily slapped away by his gloved hand, the man reached back for another but ever the observant Austrian, he located the light switch panel next to him, flipped up his goggles and whacked the room into brightness, exposing everyone to the white hot lights. A woman tried to bum rush him and failed as she made a distressing sound when she hit the floor, her loosely held gun skidded away.

The second attempt at throwing a blade stuck to the wall beside him, König ripped it out of the dry wall and threw it back at the man in the foyer, landing perfecting in the shoulder. The man wailed out in pain, the woman scrambled for the gun only to slide it further out of reach.

König pointed his gun and undid the safety.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the woman looked up at his towering frame, her head jerked slightly and she slowly put her hands up. "Get your little friend and leave, you wish to wake up tomorrow do you not?"

They left without a fuss while König cleared the rest of the house. Not too much damage, the office behind the French doors was a mess though and going to be a bitch to put back in order but that wasn't his problem.

"Miss?" König called out after finishing his sweep of the first floor.

"Miss you can come out now. We talked on the phone. Night Division. You're safe now."

As he made his way up the staircase, lined with paintings of landscapes and bodies of water, the door to his immediate right swung open and the woman appeared.

"Oh!" She was startled, no doubt by his mask and head coverings, by the way he was steadily putting away his service weapon. His size in comparison to hers.

Her eyes went wide and she slightly hugged the doorframe, a baseball bat in hand. Her expression ranged from frightened, to skeptical, to calm in an ease of seconds.

"I didn't mean to startle you." König apologized.

"It's not.. sorry. You're who I spoke with. Are there more of you?" She asked peering around him, or at least what she could, clutching her cellphone and bat.

"Just me I'm afraid."

"Oh. Did you kill them?"

"Maimed."

"Good. I don't think there's enough peroxide to clean that up."

"You've cleaned up blood before?"

"You do see that I'm a woman, right? I've been cleaning up blood since I was twelve." The woman cocked her head to the side with a snort and dropped the bat down to her side.

König got the OK to clear the rest of the second floor, just in case. All was well and he followed her down the stairs, pointing out the mess the intruders had made of the office.

"You mentioned they were looking for something. Did you hear what exactly?" He asked from the doorway, watching her side steps and tip toe about the space, moving a crooked lamp, picking up a few pillows from a small futon in the corner, a woven blanket.

"Something called Eden. Does that mean anything to you?" The woman asked, putting her brothers' things back in order. The sound of shuffling papers being neatly stacked once more made for a delightful background noise.

"No but I'll look into it. You should get ready."

"You certainly cannot stay here, miss. Those two dirt bags might come back with more firepower and back up. Nein nein, you shall come with me to a safe house after a debriefing at the base." König explained, watching her face rise and fall with understanding that the man before her was right. "My superiors will want to know what you have told me."

"Oh. Yeah. Right."

König waited patiently in the office, looking at childhood photos of the woman who was pounding the floor upstairs, gathering some belongings. Her brother's Marine portrait, certificates of accomplishments and replica swords lined the wall behind the wood stained desk.

She knocked on the side of the office doorframe soon after, giving him a thumbs up.

….

"You said Eden, correct?" Kim Hong-jin or another masked man by the codename Horangi sat down with König and his charge. He was used to the cold conference room, the woman beside him, shivering and rubbing her hands before sitting upon them, did not.

Mid conversation, König shouldered off his jacket and draped it over his shoulders, dwarfing her in size. She gave him a nervous smile before continuing.

"Did they mean to hurt you, the duo?"

"I don't know. They just broken in through the side door, my brother, [REDACTED] has three entrances to his place, I got a Ring notification and hid. I'd never seen them before but they were adamant that my brother had something they wanted."

"Hmmm. We'll look into it, see what rocks we can over turn," Horangi scribbled down some information, circling a few keywords from your statement. "König; take her to the old farmhouse on 84th, hasn't been used in a beat, could use a tune up. Keep yourselves occupied until further notice." Horangi shook the woman's hand before gathering up the folder and notes. "Oh and König?"

"Ja?"

"Don't let her out of your sight."

The ride to the farmhouse was a bumpy one, the cabin of the SUV jostled the pair around, rocks and pebbles no doubt threatening with good merit to get lodged into the tread of the tires. The crooked place came into view from just the headlights, on bright of course, started to appear along the empty dirt road. There wasn't a neighbor for miles König and his partner noticed once they took their exit ramp from the highway, making sure they weren't being followed.

He held the door open for her, taking the duffel bag from her lap, flipping it over his shoulder like an afterthought.

"I never did get your name," the woman said, walking up the rocky driveway to the creaking porch as König took out the keys Horangi had given him on their way out from base. "Suppose I ought to know who I'm being shacked up with."

König snorted and put the key into the lock. "You can call me König ." "Hmm, nice ring to it if you ask me." She said, fumbling along the wall until the lights came on, showering the cozy house in a nice warm glow.

"And you are, miss?" He asked and placed her bag down on a stiff looking couch.

She spun on her heel and held out her hand in salutations. "I'm Y/N."

Even in the country light and glow of the almost yellow/orange lighting, you looked great. Not that he thought you looked bad; at all. He realized you were incredibly attractive the moment you popped out of your brothers' room, weapon and phone in hand. Hair mussed, face contorted with relief at his presence, stroking his ego.

You looked around, checking the rotary phone on a polished side table. Lifting the pewter Eiffel Tower, the fake flowers were dusty and the place reeked of mothballs.

The kitchen was decent, a little round table with a cheap plastic table cloth, four chairs with matching tied cushions.

"Not too bad," you announced after rummaging through the empty fridge. "I could live here."

"How long do you reckon we shall be out in the sticks?" König asked, more so out loud to himself than to you.

"Who knows. We'll need to go to the store in the morning, fuck all is in this place. Not even a water pitcher!"

"We will just have to take it day by day, I'm scared."

You snorted. "You're scared? You. All what? eight fuckin' miles of you. You're scared."

"I mean uh… I'm afraid. You'll forgive me, I tangle my words sometimes."

"Clearly! We should check out the rooms, I call first dibs!" You shouted, brushing past him like a child or wobbly infant, thundering your footsteps to the second floor. He could hear you exclaiming up there, bouncing on one squeaking bed in favor of the other as he locked up the house.

"Found mine, fend for yourself big guy."

He took the third room, at the top of the landing, it's bedspread reminding him of sweet grass summers. He laid there for awhile on top of the covers, telling you to keep your door open just in case. He could hear you snoring lightly, could picture the rise and fall of your breaths, timing them on his watch before he crept down the stairs, taking sudden notice that the fourth stair from the bottom creaked at just the right spot to the right.

He propped himself into an armchair by the sheer curtain covered window by the door.

Ever cautious.

Hyper aware.

He knew he wouldn't sleep and had planned on being awake as soon as Horangi sent you on your way from base.

He didn't mind.

He was being useful which filled his head with light, happy thoughts.

[lovelyahoy]

Dr. Stone: One-shot.

Word Count:5,705.

Warnings: Happy ending angst(?) question mark because I suck at angst and I didn't plan on it, then I realized what I had written uhm yeahhh, maybe way too OOC Senku, my writing is a warning itself, might feel (very) rushed, has a few triggers involving mental health issues, mention of suicide.

Summary: Senku's always logically thinking brain is steadily corrupted by something he can't seem to solve, the girl who barely seemed to take part in the world.

Pairing: Senku Ishigami x Fem!Reader.

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[Y/N] was a science he couldn't decipher.

Were they friends? He couldn't tell. She lingered here and there but never long enough to spark a conversation, her [E/C] eyes never changed from the blank stare—face frozen in a stone-cold expression.

Most classmates assumed she wasn't interested in making friends, focusing on her studies to remain in her position as the second-highest-ranked student. Senku thought the same for the longest while, over time she naturally drifted from his usual thoughts. Despite that, [Y/N] managed to make appearances in his head whenever he'd stumble on a psychology article, or social media posts asking for advice on friendships and getting to know other people.

During one of his rare lazy nights, he scrolled through his phone, scarlet eyes landing on a particular question.

"how can i find out if my friend is okay without being it obvious?"-posted 30 minutes ago by alo_mistx11

25 comments +

He sighed, when did it start bothering him this much? The leek-haired boy clicked on the plus sign, eyebrow raising at how the replies were lengthy paragraphs of others trying to give real advice, he sped-read most of it.

"I'm going to use my personal experience to try and give you some idea, I noticed a while ago that my friend's mood never seemed to change, not when he did something he claimed to like or something he mentioned hating. I started by asking simple questions like, how was your morning? did you enjoy lunch today? what do you think of this x thing? His typical answers were short, direct and lacked details—but the more I asked, the more I realized they started changing. He added a few more comments every time, slowly but surely my friend opened up, the 'It was fine.' turned into 'It was nice.' the 'Yeah, I did.' was now 'Not really, my curry didn't have enough flavor.'

The point is, to focus on their answers and go from there. Words are complicated, they can mean multiple things at once or nothing at all. Be patient.

Senku woke up the next morning with a mission to work on, instead of his usual seat in the middle of the classroom he swapped to sit next to a stiffly sitting [H/C] haired girl who didn't spare him a glance.

Why wasn't he sure of their status? Because he met the girl back in the third year of middle school, ever since then she always silently chose him as her partner for any assignment that needed to be worked on in pairs, sitting next to him during school trips and not to mention lingering in the science club—something she still did to this day in high school. Halfway through the second year of knowing each other, he realized maybe the reason wasn't her but him, thinking she silently made an effort while he didn't.

Weirdly enough he couldn't recall a single time she spoke, did she even at all? Was she mute and he didn't notice? Senku would ramble his points during their work, not caring if she paid attention or not. However, he knew she did, [Y/N] writing exactly what he had just said and using it for their presentations.

"How was your morning?"

A brief pause in her movements, a nod, and nothing else.

So he tried right after lunchtime, making his way back to the classroom he noticed her standing by an open window. Senku slid next to her, careful to not invade her personal space. Taking a moment to admire how the sun's rays gave her [S/C] skin a glow-like effect, even as her face expressed nothing her body was relaxed.

"Did you enjoy lunch today?"

Once again, a quick nod and she walked away.

Nearing the end of the last lesson, their teacher bid them a good day and left them to write down the homework scribbled on the blackboard. Senku zipped up his bag before catching up to [Y/N] who was already halfway down the hallway.

"What did you think of today's topic?"

Oh, she stopped walking. Her head slowly tilted over her shoulder to show him her usual face, [E/C] met a curious scarlet. She shook her head.

It wasn't exactly a huge progress, but it was something. He kept a notepad solely to write down her responses, day after day it stayed the same, a nod, a shake, or nothing at all. Senku's curiosity turned into something more, like a desperation to understand just what or who [Y/N] really was.

It gnawed at him that nothing he tried worked, repeating himself like a broken record and possibly annoying the girl—if she could feel annoyance anyway. But science took time, he knew that, Senku needed to up his effort.

So he decided to drop the questions he took from the post, scribbling consistent things she indulged in. Sadly, reading books was the first and only thing he noticed she did regularly, or well read one book, Senku realized after a short while she always re-read the same one.

Walking behind her while leaning over her seated figure, squinting his eyes trying to catch a glimpse. Pointing at a random corner in the classroom and reaching his hand over to move the book closer when she looked away. Even going as far as to lie to [Y/N] that a teacher was looking for her.

And every single damn time, the book was too far away for his eyes to catch anything. The cover closed over the pages whenever she'd look away from it, and the worst one of all, she carried it everywhere. Leaving no room to snatch it in her lack of presence.

Two weeks later the perfect opportunity set itself up for him, or so he thought.

While they were paired up in groups and loud chatter filled the room, the teacher asked [Y/N] to quickly fetch some assignments he forgot in the staff room. The scientist took this chance to pull out the book from her bag, there was nothing written on the cover. Senku flipped through the pages, feeling his face scrunch up as he read the words—this wasn't a story like he initially thought, no, it was more of a diary.

Entry #27

She started kicking a lot today, the first few times made me feel so giddy! But now I can't pick up my paintbrush without her causing me so much pain, can she stop?

Entry #28

I'm so sorry, I don't want her anymore. I'm scared, so goddamn scared…

Senku stuffed the book into his bag in a hurry when he noticed the top of her head peeking through the door's window before opening it. [Y/N] handed over the papers she was sent to get and took a seat next to him, picking up her pen and continuing to write.

On the outside, his composure could rival that of an actor, inside? Oh lord, inside he was screaming at himself, why the hell did he panic? He didn't know how he could return her book before she noticed—he's screwed.

[Y/N] reached into her bag, sitting up straight when her hand came up empty. Scarlet eyes widened in absolute fear surprise when the grasp on her pen tightened hard enough to spill ink out of the blocked end. Small plastic shards fell onto her open work notebook alongside droplets of crimson red, she hardly seemed fazed by the injury and wiped the blood away with a handkerchief.

He felt like he fucked up. Big time.

Senku started to lecture her to ease his worry in a familiar way, "Plastic might seem harmless to most people, but if microplastics enter your bloodstream it could cause cell damage, inflammation and not to mention an increased chance to develop diseases." he gently took the cloth and wrapped it around her hand carefully, tying a knot to secure it from moving. During his ramble he could feel her [E/C] eyes burning into his forehead, he couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze.

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[Y/N] walked into the classroom on a cold Monday morning, she made the mistake of showering before checking the weather—leaving her body shivering while she waited for the bus just a few moments prior.

Like always, she tuned out the lively talk and sat down at the very back. Senku was already there writing down a list of things he'd need for an experiment, or so she assumed. Lately, the boy had been weirdly talkative to her, he always entertained her with random science facts but now he'd been asking questions out of the blue.

"Good morning." She wanted to part her lips and greet him back, but the grip on her bag tightened when she nodded instead and sat down.

With the book gone, [Y/N]'s routine had drastically been reduced to nothingness for hours. Her hand was now wrapped with clean bandages, there wasn't a chance in the world she misplaced the book. That meant someone had purposely taken it, her brain recited the pages to fill the void, word by word.

Entry #76

The doctor said I needed to be careful, [Y/N]'s very fragile. Was this my fault? I should've taken care of myself more, what if she never gets better? Sorry…

Entry #102

What's this? I don't know, I can't tell. Voices. There are voices everywhere and no one else seems to hear them, they happen when I'm around her…is this [Y/N]'s fault? Making her mother suffer this much, what have I done to deserve this?

"Pigeons have five color receptors in their eyes, while humans only have three." The feeling of something falling on her shoulders and the scrapping sound of a chair broke her trance.

Her closed eyes fluttered open, head tilting over her shoulder as if questioning Senku's random fact and act. [Y/N] observed the slight red tint his ears got, looking away while she slipped her arms through the sweater's sleeves.

"I saw you petting a pigeon Friday after school."

'You look cute like this.' is what she wanted to say, a twinge of pain in her chest brought her back from her thoughts. Why was he observing her so closely nowadays? Senku was completely out of character. His questions, thankfully now dropped, unsettled her at times—reminding her of the twice-a-week therapy sessions.

"Would you like to come over? Taiju and I are going try and send another rocket into space."

'Huh, another?' It was so…Senku coded…that her surprise melted away quickly, it sounded like it could be fun but unfortunately, she couldn't head anywhere other than home. Her dad who worked from home never let her out of his sight besides school, not even to go to the corner store. It used to feel suffocating, but now she mindlessly went along with it, fighting was a waste of time.

When you're the cause of someone else's despair, it's only fair to stay quiet and oblige them.

The boy sighed softly at the shake of her head, denying his invitation. Senku wasn't one to give up, his mind dead set on everything having a solution and while humans were complicated beings, a science he typically had no interest in—he wanted to know about [Y/N] no matter how long it took. When he started something, it was almost impossible for him to stop.

A note slid onto his desk, the pinky stuck in his ear stopped moving, and Senku felt his heart skip a beat. There laid her first words towards him, on the ripped-up corner of her notebook page.

'Sorry, have fun for me.'

That single note had changed everything, a huge leap in progress. Taiju questioned him on the number of packs of post-it notes he carried in his bag, only to get brushed off by the ecstatic scientist. Senku would stick a blank note on her desk every day since that Monday, and without fail, it would be on his after a few minutes of asking her stuff. It was a wonder how he didn't feel impatient at her vague words and quick sentences, but they were far better than the nods.

"I'm sure the next one won't explode."

"Good luck."

"Your club member dropped off this box."

"I'd like to know more about pigeons."

Senku breathed in shakily reading the newest piece of paper he got, eyes borderline burning imaginary holes into the only note he kept safe. The rest were thrown out after their 'conversation' ended, but this one? He couldn't bring himself to do the same.

Unfortunately, after this breakthrough, his only obstacle to moving forward was the book still stuffed in his bag. Logically theorizing her reaction, ten billion percent it would end with her killing never speaking to him again. Guilt overtook him whether he liked it or not, it felt wrong to just place it on her desk when she wasn't around. Senku was sure [Y/N] knew someone had taken it, he needed to come clean.

Oh boy.

"Uhm, are you sure about this, Senku?" Yuzuriha waved her hands frantically, she tagged along for a few minutes when the leek-haired boy asked her to help look for [Y/N]. The crafts member was horrified when he admitted to being the culprit behind the book's disappearance, Yuzuriha hung around the [H/C] haired girl on the daily—with them being in the same club.

"Nope, tell Byakuya to stop crying like a wimp when I go missing." The brown-haired girl could see Senku smirking smugly, however, he couldn't hide his trembling body from the thought of how this could all go down.

Waiting behind the corner, they noticed [Y/N] finally walk out of the nurse's office and head towards them. Senku tried to take a step back, only for Yuzuriha to send him an encouraging smile and push him forward. Her friend was going to get her book, no matter what.

Senku stumbled forward almost bumping into [Y/N], he huffed out an annoyed sound and fixed his lab coat. He wordlessly grabbed her wrist in a gentle grip and guided her to the rooftop. Really he was just trying to buy more time to compose himself, these feelings were beginning to become an illogical mess.

Illogical. Feelings were nothing but illogical, that's what he always said to himself and others. It was bothersome to realize that once they overtook you, it was hard to push them away.

[Y/N] walked behind him without struggle, eventually settling near the railing of the rooftop. Her eyes noticed his hand reach into the bag, grasping something and hesitating to bring it out. She had a vague idea of what it was going to be. Suspicions floating in her head were confirmed when her mother's journal entered her line of sight, she made no move to grab it, only raising her head to stare into his wavering eyes.

[H/C] hair was hit by a soft breeze, she lifted a hand to brush it out of her face.

"Why?"

Feeling like his brain malfunctioned, Senku nearly dropped the book at her voice. It was soft—so soft that if he wasn't paying attention, he would've missed it. He couldn't tell if she was mad or upset, face staying neutral.

"I'm sorry." He wiggled the book, trying to encourage her to take it and be done with it. Senku felt sweat build on his forehead when she stayed still. "I wanted to know more about you, I got too into my head and took it."

"Know me as a person or did you see it as an experiment?"

"I'm sorry."

[Y/N] finally grabbed her belonging, tracing a finger over the smooth cover. "Did you..?"

"Read it? only two entries." He didn't know if that would help him save face. "I couldn't bring myself to read further without your permission." He watched her flip through the pages, still standing in front of him with what seemed like zero interest, before he could utter another rushed apology she spoke once again.

"I'm not allowed to talk, not at school or home." She paused, trying to think of a good reason to keep talking. Senku, from the beginning, sparked hints of emotion she thought she had lost forever ago. It was an occurrence she wanted to keep happening, and while she couldn't ignore the slight anger bubbling right now—she would suppress it, not wanting to lose him.

Maybe, just maybe she could get this off her chest. Knowing the boy would never gossip or spread rumors about her, Senku wasn't that type of person, and perhaps that's why he drew her in so quickly.

"My dad says I sound too alike to my late mother, he hates it. I'm not sure when exactly I stopped talking altogether, but before I knew it, my voice felt like a distant memory." [Y/N] sighed softly, continuing when she realized he had no intentions of interrupting her. "It's not that I hide my feelings like everyone claims, I just don't feel them anymore. Not as strong anyways."

"Your cute science rambles gained all of my attention, ever since middle school. Something about your passion and love for it made me feel warm inside, the strongest feeling I'd get was all because of you."

[Y/N] took another, much longer pause this time. Slowly thinking back on her words, he'd probably think she was confessing to him. Before she could rephrase, the bell rang loudly. Senku gave no indication that he planned on moving, taking a step forward and stopping her.

"Finish what you were saying."

"Senku…"

"You were right. At first, the way you acted did feel like science I wanted to figure out, over time It became more about…you…as a person." His scarlet eyes kept their focus on her, refusing to break contact. "So, please [Y/N], tell me everything, every detail possible—I ten billion percent assure you I will do whatever I can to help you."

Seconds later she pushed the book into his chest gently, leaving him to hold it while walking back inside. He stood there feeling conflicted. Fuck. Was this really okay?

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Click. Clack. Click.

The sound echoed throughout the room, the culprit? Newton's cradle settled on her therapist's desk. The older man knew it bothered her, why he kept it moving was a mystery she wished would disappear.

"It's been years [Y/N], why do you still come back?"

"Because you suck at your job."

"Cheeky shit." Dr. Bernard poured himself a glass of whiskey, swirling the liquid around before downing it in one go. "Your mom died, get over it."

"You know what your real problem is? You. You're the issue. You self-destruct whenever you feel any hint of happiness, feeling guilty about it." [Y/N] stayed quiet, these words had been thrown at her by the man since forever ago. "Your mom hated you, not because she wanted to, or because you did something. Being happy isn't going to make her mad, [Y/N] she's fucking dead."

"Can we end this early? I just needed your signature."

She dusted off her school skirt, taking the waving paper from Bernard's hand. He didn't let go, forcing them to engage in eye contact. "I hope you find something that brings you so much joy, you stop taking these shits."

For a drunk, rude, and lazy therapist, Bernard had been the best possible match. He'd been trying for years, since [Y/N] was a mere eight-year-old crying hysterically whenever her mom came up as a topic. Why was he the best in her eyes? Well, it came in the form of his prescription notepad. At first, he hesitated assigning any further treatment, however over time while his life went to shit, he stopped caring about his job and patients.

"I didn't understand at the time, why she was so unresponsive. Taking a nap…what a joke.."

"It must've been heard to learn the truth, [Y/N]. However that's why you're here with me, I'll be helping you."

Even when he got back on track, he couldn't fix the addiction he created within [Y/N]. Trust him he fucking tried, she always managed to get the pills one way or another, even if it meant getting involved with shady third-party sellers. So he kept agreeing to sign for them.

While [Y/N] laid in bed waiting for her medication to settle and lull her into sleep, a few blocks away a certain scientist was doing intensive 'research'.

Postpartum psychosis. A mental illness that causes a mother to lose their grip on reality after giving birth, hallucinations, and deep confusion are the main symptoms. Senku was approaching the middle of the journal when he realized the extent of it, putting pieces together from each entry. Some were lengthy, others were single sentences.

Entry #123

[Y/N] made paper flowers for Mother's day, gosh she looked so adorable with those messy pigtails she insisted on doing herself. Lately, I've realized my thoughts have been jumbled in a way, I don't even remember writing those weird entries that keep appearing. Maybe [Dad/N] was playing a prank on me? Anyway, leaving this cute memory here.

Senku traced the glued-on picture, a smiling [Y/N] hugging her mother's leg while shoving the fake flowers into her hand. They looked extremely happy.

He couldn't help but intensely stare, a part of him wanted her to smile like that for him. Subconsciously making it a goal in his head. Senku yawned looking at his clock, a little past two in the morning, he was too focused to stop.

Entry #268

Something's wrong. Yesterday I had a vivid dream where I nearly killed my baby girl, it felt so real. From the sound of her crying to the blood that gushed out from where I cut her….it was horrible. I tried to cater to [Y/N] all day, giving her treats and playing dolls until sundown. Why do I feel so guilty, if it was only a dream?

The clock continued to tick, flipping another page Senku's eyes began to droop. It was extremely illogical for him to tire himself out like this, fully knowing he could finish reading tomorrow—the book still remained in his grasp.

He couldn't begin to imagine what [Y/N] had lived through, typically postpartum psychosis lasted for weeks, sometimes months, and in bad cases up to three years. It seemed [M/N] never got better, slipping between her mental illness and reality constantly for eight consecutive years. To hear and see your mother love you so profoundly one day only to hate your existence the next, must've been awful.

Entry #311

This will be my final entry, I've hurt you so much already and I can't continue to allow it. Remembering is becoming harder and harder with each passing day, but I know I love you [Y/N], so very much. Take care of [D/N], he'll get a bit lonely without me.

I'll leave this book with you, hoping you finish filling its pages. Please be strong my little pigeon, I know you asked me to stop calling you that but I couldn't help it. Will you allow just this once? I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry darling, promise me that you'll live life to the fullest, for both of us.

-[M/N] [L/N]

His fingers lightly traced the darker spots around the page's surface, lips trembling when he realized some of them were dried-up blood instead of tears. Senku noticed the pages after this last entry were all written by [Y/N], hesitating for a good while until he remembered how the girl had entrusted him with it.

Entry #46

Dr. Bernard couldn't answer my question, I didn't expect much to be honest. He's been drinking heavily every session, his wife died? or was it his kid? Perhaps both. I wonder when I stopped caring, where is the real me? Neither of us knew.

So with an energy drink he'd been avoiding till now, cracked open and set onto his bed stand he was ready for an all-nighter. Future Senku can deal with tiredness.

Entry #88

I didn't take any medication today, I met a boy who wouldn't stop talking about how rockets were made and operated, I was too immersed in his passion to notice my alarm telling me to take my pills.

Senku? Yeah, that's his name. I think I'll stick around him more, still have to take my pills even if he makes me feel like they aren't necessary in the moment.

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"What are you doing?"

[Y/N] watched Senku search for her bag, they were alone in the science club, and she wanted to hurry home but the boy insisted on giving him a quick minute.

After a few seconds, he found what he was searching for, the two antidepressant pill bottles with different labels. He shook them in front of her seated figure, a frown etched on his lips.

"Taking Prozac and Zoloft together isn't doing you any damn favors, [Y/N]. It doesn't result in better efficiency, harming you faster than you could ever outheal it." [E/C] eyes barely reacted to him dumping the pills into a vial filled with some sort of acid, the disintegration took only mere moments sizzling up before the liquid settled back to its original composition.

"It doesn't seem like you suffered with serotonin syndrome, no, you got a severe case of emotional blunting. You noticed and continued to take them regularly." Senku scratched off the labels before throwing the empty bottles in the trash, people didn't need to find out who they belonged to. "Remember the response you gave me, [Y/N]? When I asked if you minded my science talks?"

He took steps forward, stopping when he was right in front of her. Scarlet met [E/C], head tilted up to observe him.

"If you ever feel the itch to take a pill come to me instead, I'll fill your head with the brightest colors."

It was easier said than done, the confidence he felt when saying those words settled into raw embarrassment. It was the first time he ever heard her huff out a noise close to laughter, trying to pry his hands away from blocking the red faced scientist.

Senku studied up as many pigeon facts as he could, he truly underestimated how badly [Y/N] was hooked on the medications, asking to hear his voice around every hour. When she needed some science talk, he'd immediately do it, even going as far as sending her constant audio texts throughout the day and night—it was logical, right? Just in case she needed them while he wasn't physically there.

A few more weeks later, her lips would slowly twitch up into very brief smiles, [E/C] eyes gained a small spark, one he noticed in a heartbeat. [Y/N] greeted him and other classmates in the morning, shocking even the teacher when she raised her hand to answer a question. From an outside perspective, it looked like a teen finally coming out of her introverted shell and fitting in more snuggly with her peers.

For Senku? He never thought he'd ever feel this sort of third-party heartbreak, her cries being muffled by his chest, tears streaming down her face and onto him. Yeah, she was healing, but being healed meant all of her suppressed emotions came back in harsh waves. He had been the one to throw out her remedy, so he would ten billion percent be the one to help her get through it all.

"Your mom's last words, weren't they asking for a promise? To live for her and yourself?"

Was a question that had completely broken the thin barrier that remained between them, it was the hardest she cried and honestly, it scared him. Trembling words that were spoken in a hoarse voice letting him know, that in fact, that wasn't the last promise she had asked of [Y/N].

"While she wrote her last entry, I was in the room. I didn't understand why mom had a rope tied around the ceiling fan, or why there was a stool just underneath it." Senku's arms around her tightened, body felt heavy against his as they were seated on his bedroom floor. "I was so excited for her to finish because she told me it would be mine. I didn't know I was practically beaming with happiness that my mother was about to die."

"In her last moments, she was no longer my mom. Screaming at me for ruining her life, for being born…then…then she asked me to promise to take my own life." Hiccups interrupted her words, taking deep breaths to compose herself long enough to tell Senku the memory that haunted her above everything else.

He pulled her head closer to his chest. His eyes began to sting at her words, he regretted bringing up that question.

"When she realized I didn't understand what it meant, whispering a 'like this.' she pushed the stool away. I tried, I tried so hard to stop her legs up while she twitched but I was too weak. My mom died hating me Senku, and I know it wasn't her, but in the end, it was still a part of her." [Y/N] wiped at her face uselessly, the tears kept getting replaced by fresh ones. "If I hadn't been born, she'd be living happily with my dad."

"Mommy…?"

A croaking noise left the woman's body, natural instincts kicking in to try and pry the noose away from her crushed throat. Feet harshly kicked around narrowly missing a frantic [Y/N] who managed to finally wrap her small arms around her mother's legs.

"What's wrong? Mommy?"

Silence enveloped the room, the small girl kept her grip on the now-still body. [Y/N] trembled with tears running down her chubby cheeks, she was scared. Never did her mom ever make any sounds like that.

"Are you sleeping mommy?…goodnight, don't let the bed bugs bite." The small girl sighed in relief, from what? She didn't know. She stayed there for an hour, frowning when her mom was getting cold. [Y/N] turned to the bed and struggled to take the thick blanket, she froze hearing a loud thud, and her head whipped seeing the body sprawled on the floor.

Dried up blood stained the woman's neck, a result of her nails having dug into her neck when desperation caved it. [Y/N] dropped the blanket over her mother, running over to the bathroom, and grabbing a first aid kit.

"You need to be more careful mommy…" [Y/N] closed the wide dull eyes staring right at her, wiping the wounds with the light hum of a lullaby her mom used to sing whenever she healed her up.

Eventually, sleep won her over, the child huddled up to the corpse with a smile on her face. She hadn't cuddled with mom in a long time.

What [Y/N] never could've known, was that her mother, in the truly very last moments had regained full consciousness. Clawing at her cause of impending death, desperate to push her child away from seeing this.

Wait…I…I don't want this anymore please god…not yet..[Y/N]….[Y/N]….

"The if doesn't matter. not anymore." His words were sharp, trying to get them across loud and clear to the girl having a breakdown in his arms. "Her mind hated you [Y/N], not her heart."

"The real her loved you so much, cling onto that." Senku's arms slowly unwrapped her figure, instead raising his hands to cup her puffy face, eyes filled with new tears. The pads of his fingers caressed her cheeks, lightly wiping right underneath her eyes.

"Learn to remember only the happy memories, bad ones will only continue to hurt you and…..I don't like seeing you sad."

He mumbled the last part, despite this very weak attempt he knew she heard it. [Y/N] giggled seeing his face turn a bright red, feeling the heavy chains around her heart disappear bit by bit. Like a fresh breath of air, she had found happiness in Senku.

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"Hurry up, slowpoke."

The morning was too chaotic for Senku, his damn alarm didn't go through, leaving him with literal seconds to get ready.

[Y/N] yawned buttoning her school sweater, she regularly slept over at her boyfriend's house—even learning to deal with Byakuya gushing over how cute they were to him.

Grabbing her backpack she headed out first, leaving the scientist to stumble about still getting his last items. Stuffing the lab coat into his bag he raced for the door, before closing it he glanced at his computer.

There, on the corner of his main monitor, was the post-it note he refused to throw out. It dangled softly with the wind coming from his slightly opened window, scarlet eyes filled with adoration recalling the writing. Words engraved into his brain and heart.

"Do you mind me talking this much about science? Is it okay?"

The question lingered in the air for a brief moment before the note was placed on his desk.

'It's okay, the brightest colors fill my head when you speak."

Taiju and Yuzuriha were excited to hear they were dating, the former teasing him and backing down once his best friend threatened to expose his crush on the brown-haired girl.

[Y/N] finally said her goodbyes to Dr. Bernard, smiling gently when the older man cried his eyes out, apologizing and saying how proud he was. Slowly but surely, the strings that attached her to the past were snapping.

Dad's string was the hardest, she didn't want to get rid of it, only untangle the knots. It was rough, but with time and patience, he agreed to attend therapy and changed to work in the office instead of at home. Relationship getting stronger with each dinner night together.

"Stop spacing out dumbass." Oh right, with a romantic relationship came deeper trust and a back to normal Senku. His hand outstretched waiting for the chemical he asked for three minutes ago, [Y/N] sent him a pout, giving him the requested item.

"You were much nicer before."

"Do you reeeally mind it?" He leaned over to quickly peck her lips, turning his head back to his experiment. "Even when I do that?"

"Dumbass, was it? yeah, agreed."

Senku huffed out a cackle, partially from her comment and the chemical reaction going perfectly. They watched the foam-like substance pour out of the vial, he had already explained what it was but she was too busy focusing on his cute concentrated face.

Her fingers wrapped around his hand, squeezing tightly and letting her head fall on his shoulder.

"My dumbass though." He sucked at mumbling.

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3700+ years later he created post-it notes for her, receiving that beautiful huge smile he longed to see. (He melted on the spot, not caring about Kohaku or Chome's eyes bulging out their heads from his reaction)

Walking into his lab in the mornings and seeing her words scribbled with encouragement. Yeah, feelings were illogical, but she made it worth it.

To keep herself conscious, [Y/N] recited her mother's journal, only the happy pages this time though.

Upon awakening she slapped Senku abruptly, covering herself with her hands and yelling out. She didn't realize it was him, forgive her.

-

[Y/N]'s last entry before petrification:

Entry #211

I found someone very precious to me. I'll probably follow him till the end of time, hope you don't mind waiting longer for me mom.

and mom?

Rest easy please, I'm not afraid anymore.

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When y'all write any 'sad' stuff, does it make you sad when you read it? I know I'm not good at angst, but reading back to edit it I was stoned faced, so my head was like, yeah no one is gonna give a fuck if I don't. 👩‍🦯

[estrellex]

racing hearts #2 - dr3

summary: swapping numbers at the gathering, you and daniel started chatting, and what began as playful banter quickly blossomed into meaningful conversations about photography, travel, and life in general. yet you couldn’t shake off the warm and fuzzy feeling that bubbled up inside you whenever daniel's name flashed on your phone—maybe they were onto something after all!

part 1 🌱 part 2 🌱part 3 🌱

after the gathering..

daniel pulled his phone from his pocket, glancing at it before holding it out to you. "here, put your number in. you know, just in case i ever need a professional photographer." his grin was playful, but there was something else there—something softer.

you hesitated for only a second before taking the phone, fingers typing in your contact details. "just in case?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you handed it back to him.

he smirked. "or, you know, in case i want to talk to someone who won’t roast me as badly as lando does."

you laughed, shaking your head. "i make no promises."

daniel chuckled, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "fair enough. but i’ll take my chances."

the night continued, but the lingering thought of your conversation with daniel sat in the back of your mind. even as you made your way through the party, chatting with rebecca and teasing carlos about his questionable music choices, your thoughts kept drifting back to the easy rhythm of your conversation with him.

yourinstagram posted a story

later, when you were home, curled up in bed and scrolling through your phone, a message popped up from an unknown number.

unknown: hope you made it home safe. no sudden urges to capture the perfect shot while driving?

you smiled, shaking your head as you saved the contact.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the amused smile forming on your lips.

sunday morning..

the next day, you met up with your best friend, maya, for coffee. she leaned forward expectantly. "so? how was the party? anyone interesting?"

you shrugged, stirring your latte absentmindedly. "it was fine. same faces, mostly. carlos was being dramatic as usual. lando is still a menace."

maya squinted at you. "and?"

you took a sip of your drink, trying to seem casual. "and i talked to daniel ricciardo for a bit."

her eyes widened. "oh my god. and you just casually drop that in? i mean i did see you post him last night. what was he like? tell me everything."

"relax, and yeah… i asked him of course if i could you know, crazy fans out there" you laughed. "he was just… easy to talk to. funny, obviously. but also just— i don’t know. it didn’t feel like small talk. it felt like—"

"flirting?" maya supplied.

you rolled your eyes. "i was going to say, a real conversation. but sure, let’s go with your theory."

maya smirked. "and? are you texting?"

you hesitated for half a second before nodding. "yeah, we’ve exchanged a few messages from last night. nothing major."

maya leaned in, intrigued. "nothing major? you’re smiling while saying that. what’s he like over text?"

you glanced down at your phone, the last message still lingering on the screen. "he’s… witty. kind of effortlessly funny. and he actually asks questions instead of just talking about himself."

maya wiggled her eyebrows. "sounds promising. and what do we think?"

you sighed, leaning back. "i don’t know. it’s fun. i don’t want to overthink it."

maya gave you a knowing look. "famous last words."

just then, your phone vibrated again.

maya leaned over, reading the messages over your shoulder. "oh yeah. he’s so into you."

“maya. don’t make me feel delusion after a small interaction with him,” you say playfully.

she puts her hands up in defense, “what? these messages totally show that he’s into you.”

you shook your head, but the warmth in your chest lingered. Maybe, just maybe, maya had been onto something after all. and maybe carlos was up to his matchmaking skills once again.

yourinstagram posted a story

a few days later..

over the next few days, you and daniel exchanged texts that started light and teasing but quickly grew into something more. conversations about photography turned into discussions about travel, music, and childhood memories. he sent you ridiculous selfies with captions like "artistic masterpiece?" and you retaliated with photos of your morning coffee labeled "true art."

one evening, as you were editing photos, another message popped up.

carlos, ever observant, caught on quickly. during a facetime call, he smirked at you. "you’ve been smiling at your phone a lot lately. something you want to share?"

you rolled your eyes. "it’s called having friends, carlos."

"mhm. friends. sure," he drawled, clearly unconvinced. "you forget i know you, hermana. you don’t text just anyone this much."

you scoffed. "it’s just daniel. we’re just talking."

carlos raised an eyebrow. "just talking? when was the last time you ‘just talked’ to someone this much and actually smiled about it?"

you hesitated. he had a point, and he knew it. carlos grinned, triumphant. "i’m just saying, i wouldn’t be mad if you two hit it off. i mean, imagine how fun double dates with me and rebecca would be."

you groaned. "we are not doing this."

carlos chuckled. "alright, alright. i’ll let you figure it out. just… don’t overthink it for once, yeah?"

em speaks: sooo sorry that i've been mia on this story and just in general :(( school has been on my butt, and it doesn't help that im on quarter system. i've been starting on the next part of this and hope to get it out as soon as i can 🙏 but hoped you enjoyed this second part!!

[cheol-e-kat]

• no blueberries, feat. mingyu, pt. 3 •

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

mentioned: seungcheol, joshua, vernon, christian yu (dpr ian in part ii& iii)

word count: 3.1k

genre: fake dating, college au, college student!mingyu, college student!reader, fluff, f2l, idiots, idiots in love, angst, pining, denial of feelings, established friendship (reader & ian), miscommunication

summary: mingyu was just your lab partner and study buddy for several semesters, but lately things seem to have changed, and maybe everyone else has noticed, but for the most part, neither of you even think about what you are to one another until mingyu asks you to be his 'fake' date for a long weekend trip so he can avoid an ex, the biggest problem is realizing that there's nothing fake about your relationship but when mingyu won't even talk about what you are to each other, you start to think things might be over before they even really start

warnings: explicit language, mentions of anxiety, sexually suggestive situations, drinking, smut, penetrative sex, oral (m. receiving)

a/n: they are still idiots but idiots who are finally getting it together ;-;

xx kat

[part i] [part ii]

♡ if you would like to be tagged in my upcoming posts, go [here]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔

she spent the rest of the break hanging out with ian - they went to a few art galleries and some new restaurants. she didn’t upload her photos anywhere, she didn’t want to make things any worse with mingyu. it was just a low-key break. she slept late a few mornings, went running if she felt like it, and took long breaks from reading a book she had found by staring out the huge windows of ian’s apartment. he had an insane view of the city. 

the problem was her habit of snapping photos because she was suddenly without anyone to send them to - she had taken tons, and she could sit and scroll through them, but they only made her feel lonely as the break wore on. she kept thinking if he would just post one thing where he looked like he was having fun, then she could pretend nothing had happened. everything would go back to factory settings or something - she wasn’t sure.

it was only the last night of break, while they were having dinner, that ian asked her about mingyu.

“so, have you answered him at all?” 

naturally, she knew the ‘him’ being referred to. “not yet,” she paused, “i don’t really know what to say - how do you back up from the fact that you left someone during a vacation because you’re in this weird tenuous space where neither of you seem to be able to talk about anything properly?”

he laughed, “yeah, that’s a nice description - i’m sure i’ll back away from the discussion now,” he rolled his eyes, “you have class with him tomorrow don’t you?”

she nodded, “yep - two classes, actually, and usually we grab breakfast,” she sighed, “not tomorrow though, i guess.”

he drummed his fingers on the table, “because you can’t, you know uh, give him a ring and i don’t know, maybe ask to talk?”

she stared at her plate, not wanting to let the reasonableness sink in too deeply. 

she poked at her food, “look, i don’t like that he kept something from me, and i don’t like that admitting we might be a couple seems like such an issue,” she pursed her lips. 

she had had a lot of time sitting around to think through how she was actually feeling, and even if she handled things badly, she felt like there were legitimate issues.

“ah, and so instead of telling him about all of this, you’re just going to avoid it, or did i miss something?”

she shrugged, “i don’t know - shouldn’t he maybe know that i have issues with these things?”

“to me? how would he - and why are you being so inflexible - we both know you like him, maybe you just need to take a step towards him instead of running in the opposite direction like your hair is on fire whenever you start to have some real feelings,” he sounded way too sage. 

“don’t be obnoxious,” she deadpanned.

he swirled his wine, “look, if you want to end it with him, then just do it, but waiting around, seems like a big mistake, especially if you do care about him - you’re stringing him along.”

she sighed, “i think i’ll wait to see if he’s suddenly back with his ex before i do anything,” she concluded icily. 

he laughed and sipped his wine, “so avoid him until he does something that proves your theory then?”

she flipped him off. 

but even when she went to bed in his spare room, she kept tossing in bed. she couldn’t get comfortable. 

it was too hot - then too cold - her back hurt, but she didn’t like sleeping on her stomach. she was convinced the aircon wasn’t working properly and kept trying to feel the air from the vent by standing on a chair. she eventually gave up and sat down to scream into her pillow out of sheer frustration. but, lying there post-scream, more than anything, she wondered what mingyu was doing. 

she kept checking his socials, looking for signs of life, but he hadn’t posted anything. she checked again, and when there was still nothing, she went to her messages to stare at the draft she had typed out. she had typed short things and long things, and she kept coming back to the fact that they were all wrong. none of them said the right things - none of them were going to fix anything. 

she glanced at the clock, 10:38 pm. she stared around and finally typed a message quickly and hit send. she couldn’t undo it - it was already gone. all she could do was stare at her phone and wonder if he would reply. 

after about one minute, she shoved her phone off the bed, certain he would never talk to her again. she couldn’t handle waiting and checking. she had flipped her ringer on, though, just in case he did answer. she hoped that he would, but she was very sure that he wouldn’t. in her mind, he had totally forgotten her and was already back together with katie, exactly where he should be. and she was alone - probably forever. she was definitely going to die alone, and not just in the poetic way of how we are all alone in death or whatever. 

she practically leapt out of bed when the little ping suddenly interrupted her thoughts. 

[mango 10:41]

where?

she stared for a moment, trying to remember what she had even asked - she glanced back at her message, asking if they could meet. 

she bit her lip, trying to think of where might even make sense, but she saw his little typing bubble and waited to see what he said. when it went away, she felt like she needed to answer quickly or all would be lost, she named a park - it was probably closer to him, but she didn’t exactly care. she waited, feeling nervous all over again. 

but then her phone screen lit up - he was calling her. she watched for a moment, silently panicking, before finally swiping to answer.

“why do you want to meet in a park, y/n?” he asked immediately, no preamble, just his husky, sleepy voice.

she shrugged, “i don’t know - i guess so we can talk in private?” 

she knew precisely how uncertain she sounded.

he was quiet for a moment, “just come here - it’s only me,” his voice trailed away.

she closed her eyes, “did they decide to stay or something?”

she felt horrible for asking. 

“not everyone has monday classes.”

she hummed, “right.”

she suddenly felt tired - she realized how used to talking to him at night she was. the difference being they were usually in the same room, and the same bed. 

she sighed, “i miss you.”

she picked at the fabric of the duvet she was lying on top of - it had never become comfortable for reason. 

“like a lot,” she added, voice soft, floating off into nothingness.

she stared hard at the white fabric of the duvet, waiting for him to say something, as she tried to follow the lines of the fabric’s weave. and the silence only made her hate that she had taken ian’s advice. he was wrong - she should never have taken a first step or any step at all. 

she started to say his name, thinking maybe he had fallen asleep. 

“so come here, then you won’t have to miss me,” he whispered. 

“mmmh, are you mad at me?”

she could hear him shift around, “not mad - maybe confused,” he paused, “but not so much that it really matters right now when i just want to be with you.”

she nodded, feeling her stomach flutter, “mingyu?”

“hmm,” his voice was low.

she knew what she was thinking, but she wasn’t sure how to say it.

“if it’s too late”— she started.

“y/n, just - please come - i’ve missed you too,” he spoke quickly. 

⋆˙⟡

she ordered a car, and without traffic, she was over the bridge quickly. it didn’t stop her from being nervous when she hit the buzzer for his apartment. even walking up the familiar stairs, she was still jittery. she decided that if she needed to leave, at least it would be a quick ride home to her very empty, very cold bed. 

she was expecting to need to wait outside his door, but he was already there, waiting for her. she gave a small wave as she neared him. even dressed in sweats and a tshirt with slight bedhead, he looked stupidly handsome. no, she decided, he was much worse than handsome; he was gorgeous and perfect, and she had missed spending her entire break with him. 

she only noticed his split lip when she was closer, immediately reaching for him, “what happened to you?”

he shrugged and moved for her to go inside, which she did since standing in the hallway wasn’t the best thing. but she immediately rounded on him, “seriously, what happened to you?”

“nothing,” he caught her hands lightly before they could make contact with his face.

she tried to tamp down her annoyance because it felt like, again, he was just holding out on her. for no reason she could even begin to understand. 

unlike earlier in the week, she wasn’t looking for a reason to be annoyed with him, but she wanted to know. 

“please tell me?”

“why, y/n? it was just something stupid with seungcheol - it’s not important,” he whispered, his hands tracing lightly over her arms. 

she groaned, “yes, it is,” she could see him getting ready to assure her that it wasn’t - “it’s important, just like the stuff katie said to you, okay - all of it matters to me because it’s about you, so even if it annoys me or whatever, please tell me, okay? you’re not protecting me from anything - it just makes me feel like you don’t trust me or something,” she had imagined being a bit calmer when she explained that, but she hadn’t known how soon they would be talking about it either. 

he nodded, “fine,” he laughed, “he was trying to make me feel better about you leaving, and it turned into me calling him short and we sort of got in fight,” he nodded, his face flushing.

she stared at him for a moment, “did you at least hit him back?”

“yeah,” he whined, “he was being a dick to begin with.”

“i thought you said he was trying to make you feel better?” 

he rolled his eyes, “he was, in a very seungcheol way, and even if he was right, i didn’t like the things he pointed out,” he said matter-of-factly.

she tilted her head slightly, wondering what seungcheol had pointed out. although, she had the distinct feeling this wasn’t the time to ask. they were both quiet for a moment. she could feel his fingers tracing along her waist, gently pulling her closer.

“did you actually miss me?”

she nodded, “umhm,” she stepped closer, leaning into him, feeling his arms surround her.

she pressed close, glad that there was no distance between them. 

“i’m sorry i left,” she whispered. he kissed the top of her head in response. 

they stayed there hugging like it would make up for the last few days. and then they went to his room to go to bed. but even lying next to him, she knew she wasn’t exactly doing anything differently than before. she was letting the physical calm between them fill all the little emotional cracks, but that wasn’t going to fix how she felt. it would just keep things together until the next time and the next time until maybe the cracks were too big to be held together. 

which was how she found herself poking mingyu in the cheek at 3 am until he woke up.

“what’s wrong?” he sounded only slightly annoyed, like she did this all time, and he was used to it. 

she took advantage of the fact that he was groggy, not because she thought it would help her get what she wanted - it was because groggy mingyu was less intimidating than fully engaged mingyu. 

“nothing, but i need to ask you something,” she whispered. 

he whined “right now?”

“yes, it’s important.”

he nodded, barely keeping his eyes open, “okay, what is it?”

maybe she was wrong, even groggy mingyu made her stomach turn back flips. “do you want to date me?” she was barely audible.

she watched him close his eyes - her stomach immediately sank. 

but then he nodded, “yes, of course - that’s what i was trying to tell you before, about being with you is all that matters.”

she leaned over him, playing with his hair, “i wasn’t completely focused on those things.”

“i know.”

she watched him for a moment before leaning close to kiss him. it was sweet at first - soft and mellow - neither were in a rush. she realized that even a few days without kissing him felt like ages. to her, mingyu had seemed half asleep, but after a few minutes, she found herself on her back, caged in by his arms as they continued to kiss. when she felt his hand slide down to grip her thigh, she knew it was over - the fact that it was the middle of the night didn’t matter. she gasped softly when she felt his hips press roughly against hers. he found his rhythm easily, rolling his hips against her, teasing her. she pulled his hair roughly, wanting to feel more. 

she managed to break their kiss and press him back. she pulled off her own shirt before tugging at his, wanting him to undress too. she watched him run a hand through his hair before finally matching her, pulling off his shirt, and he followed her example again when she stripped off her pants and underwear. 

she pressed close to him, running her fingers down his chest, loving his muscles - she wondered if she told him that enough - the things she liked about him. she leaned up to kiss beneath his collarbone.

“you’re so perfect,” she whispered against his skin, kissing further down his chest. she pressed him back onto the bed, leaving a trail of kisses and bites and whispered praise as she went. 

she liked going down on him - there was something about the size of his cock that she couldn’t help but enjoy. she licked a fat stripe along the underside of his cock, paying attention to the thick vein there, all the while, she heard him moaning softly. she smiled, kissing his shaft and sucking gently at the skin as she moved up to suck his tip. she tasted his precum and enjoyed knowing that she could make him leak for her, just like he could make her a wet, sopping mess. 

she pulled back, hearing his soft panting, “good baby?”

he groaned, “what do you think?”

she smiled and leaned up to kiss him. she licked into him and moved so that she was straddling him. she grasped his cock, hearing his low groan. he knew she was going to finish him off by riding him. he gave her ass a soft smack, urging her on as she lined her pussy up with his cock. she didn’t waste any time taking him in - she let herself slide down on him until she was sure she could feel his cock in her stomach. she stayed there for a moment, loving the way he filled her. she leaned back enough to let her hands rest on his thighs for leverage, and then she started to move her hips. 

she knew he liked when she was a bit rough - she loved the way he watched his cock disappear inside her. she felt his fingers on her clit, massaging it in little circles, she moaned, “fuck, just like that.”

he bit his lip, “come on, finish yourself on me like a good girl,” he rasped. 

her eyes fluttered closed, and she smiled at the idea that she was just using him for his cock when they were like this. 

instead though, she started to whimper and whine, “i can’t,” she gasped.

“can’t what baby girl?”

her hips had slowed, “can’t get myself off like this - need your help, daddy,” she leaned forward, her fingernails barely digging into the skin of his chest, “help me?” she whined softly, knowing how much he liked it, feeling his cock throb inside her.

she kept him inside as they swapped positions - she grinned up at him, “fuck me?”

he nodded, picking up her thighs and throwing them over his shoulders - his first thrust left her mewling. the way he was hitting every spot so perfectly left her grasping the edge of the mattress, whining his name over and over as he slammed into her. 

she squeezed him tightly, hearing the soft grunts, despite how determined he looked, until suddenly he became relentless, fucking into her like she was the toy - their roles reversed. she came, gasping and moaning, almost choking on her own pleasure, and still feeling him pumping into her until he finally finished with a hard groan - his cum filling her completely. he leaned down between her legs, sweat glistening on his skin, as their bodies melded and they kissed until he finally pulled out with a soft moan.

“fuck,” he groaned, wiping himself off with his discarded tshirt before turning to her to do the same. 

she pulled him into another lingering kiss. she wounder her fingers in his hair, wanting nothing else but to stay in the afterglow with him. 

when he leaned back, licking his lips, “so did that count as ‘make-up sex’ or ‘we’re dating sex’?”

she laughed softly, “both maybe?” she suggested, watching him.

“or maybe i just really missed you sex?” she offered after amoment.

he nodded, “i was afraid you wouldn’t miss me at all.”

she pressed closer to him, kissing him again. it was soft, though. 

“how could i not miss you?” she asked as she pulled away, “i love you,” she whispered, a new flush coloring her cheeks.

she waited nervously for him to respond - she had thought it so many times. it was only when he kissed her back, gently pulling away and whispering his own confession, that she relaxed, knowing that mingyu loved her too. 

⋆˙⟡

they did not go to classes the next day. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

a/n: look they made it! sorry if miscommunication (lack of communication maybe in this case) isn’t your genre - to me it’s like the main driver of most issues…there could be more pining but as someone who also loves instant crushes….i actually just want them together

anyway, tell me what to write next…some vampire x human arranged marriage?? or like type a personality / type b personality rivals to lovers…both are in my wips but so are so manyyy other things, like mafia au with arranged marriage, gov’t assigned soulmates and more random stuff - give me input, plz - otherwise it may end up being this random idea i had about golf and fr no one needs that

♡ kat

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

tag list: @syluslittlecrows @cherrylovescheol

if you want to be tagged, go [here] & my [master list] if you want to read more

[marlenesluv]

charles + gf living together in monaco (hc)

note: saw charles’ story of him playing piano this morning (feb. 10) and felt the need to make this bc my mind spiraled. (this led to more than i expected, maybe marriage. tf is wrong with me) also i wrote the “he won monaco” bit in february 😭 imma say i manifested that.

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: none

head-cannon: yours and charles’ lives after moving in together in monaco.

۵ after dating for about three years, charles proposed the idea of you guys moving in together. the two of you decided on buying a new house in monaco instead of picking between the two of yours.

۵ if you thought living together would be a bad idea, you’d be wrong.

۵ it was the best idea you guys had ever had.

۵ no more ‘can you come over?’ texts at 2am because one of you couldn’t sleep. no more keeping clothes in his closest and some of his in yours. no. everything was perfect now.

۵ you shared a bedroom, a space, a closet, and a home.

۵ when you woke up in the morning, you occasionally would wake to charles playing the piano. a beautiful sound that you thought angels would come down from heaven to hear.

۵ you’d sneak up behind him and kiss his cheek as you sat beside him and played for a while with him.

۵ when you met charles, you didn’t know anything about pianos. but after three years, he’s taught you everything and you enjoy the hobby more than a lot of things.

۵ piano became a staple in your daily routines. at least an hour everyday, you sat down at the piano and practiced.

۵ which usually ended with charles behind you, kissing your neck as you giggled, pushing him off, “charles! i’m practicing, stop that.”

۵ maybe you guys even came out with a song on his spotify. a little duet on the piano, which everyone loved.

۵ grocery shopping was always fun. you insisted that charles didn’t need to go, he was busy after all. but he would never miss it.

۵ he probably will grab to the most unhealthy things and you’re just like, “wont your trainer be mad…?” and he just shrugs and throws the cereal into the cart.

۵ you and kika are bestfriends. obviously.

۵ since your boyfriend’s hangout all the time, you guys started talking and hanging out together and leaving the guys to train.

۵ since you and kika became so close, pierre and charles shared a jet more often.

۵ races were even more fun with you had another girl to talk to. sure, you were friends with the other girls, but you and kika had a connection.

۵ and you had always gone to the family dinners.

۵ pascale saw you as one of her own, she knew you and charles were meant for each other.

۵ and arthur and enzo knew that too.

۵ of course, they all expected charles to propose, which after a while, he told them he would eventually.

۵ but before that, you told kika how much you wanted to get married, and she kept telling you, “just wait, i’m sure he will soon.”

۵ and yeah, maybe pierre told kika that charles was planning to purpose after monaco this year.

۵ and he won monaco. he won at his home.

۵ and he proposed to you on that podium, asking you up there to celebrate, and he got down on one knee.

۵ sobbing, of course you said yes. which fans loved and his friends cheered, kika recording the whole thing.

۵ the wedding was gorgeous, and the honeymoon was incredible.

۵ but you both looked forward to going back home.

۵ you yearned for your simple routine.

۵ and, of course, charles threw out the idea of christening the house now that you were officially married.

۵ and christen you did.

۵ the bedroom, the sofa, the shower, the island, the kitchen table, the balcony, the guest bedrooms, and his new ferrari.

۵ anyways….

۵ you also tried to reach charles how to cook.

۵ he burnt the cookies, let the pasta boil over, served raw burgers, and made the scrambled eggs smoke.

۵ so you quickly took over the home cooked meals.

۵ the two of you loved living together, but it was even better as a married couple.

(guys this posted on queue OMG😭 i’m so sorry it wasn’t finished! i’ll keep it up tho lol)