#sometimes it’s better sometimes it’s worse but I am getting closer with my college friends too.. very fun

[teamdays]

im like if a lonely girl became a normal guy and escaped the loop of agony against all odds. more or less.

[navigating--thru--life]

17/10/2024

TIME; 11:30 AM

So if I shud talk abt today. There is actaully nthg to talk about. God that was SO lame. Anyway I woke up at like 8 and all I did was scroll thru insta. I have like nothing to do in life. like srsly. Idk I couldn't get into a college. Ofc not the end of the world but pretty much its like that for me. I wanted to go for nursing and I couldn't get into one either cause of my marks or cause I'm broke af. Um yeah so basically my life is pretty down and uk wts worse The people!!!! they just make you feel sm more miserable about everything in life. I didn't wanted to take a freaking gap year. I always hoped THAT I would get into one. But I didn't welll! wt can I do? Sometimes things just go all the way around of wt you actually prayed for. What can we do? Some people just makes me feel pathetic cause I couldn't get into a cllg. I'm so scared about my future. idk wt ever is gonna happen or wt could ever possibly go right? I just wanted to have that peace in life uk. Where I could just have experiences, meet new people and just simply GROW. My dreams were Go to cllg, get some friends, going out and just enjoying my life as it is. But all I got is no cllg, I do have my scl friends who got into cllg or who are actually doing smthing with life,( I'm so happy for them tho! like I'm so proud) and absolutly no going out, NO enjoyment BUT! clearly rotting in home. Dude!! like I wake up, I go to church, I eat, I scroll, I eat, I scroll again, I sleep AND OVER TO THE NEXT DAY DOING THESE ALL OVER AGAIN. This is all that've been happening for the past 4-5 months. It's a freaking loop like dude no wonder I got issues.

so Ig I rlly need to get out of this situation. So as a part of my plan, here's today's list;

PRIORITIES OF THE DAY

GETTING CLOSE TO JESUS- Now how do I do that? Bible helps ryt! imma read bible today yeah I asked Chatgpt to MAKE a schedule for me to read bible and today acc to Chatgpt imma read genesis 1 and 2 then john 1 and psalms 8 yeah I'm doing it if that's gonna help imma do it.

SECOND PRIORITY OF THE DAY - LET'S LEARN A LANGUAGE. SPANISH SOUNDS GOOD. I WILL TAKE DUALINGO LESSONS.

AFFIRMATIONS? yeh I kinda need positivity rn which idk if will ever work!!!!

TIME-8:00PM- updates

Yeah so I read bible today. Felt good ofc. Also went to church my mood was sm better. Felt closer to GOD. Also gave him an updation about my life (like he doesn't know wts going on)

I sat outside for almost 15 mins( waw that's like a lot *eye roll*) and wrote my journal. Ik that was like not on my list but Ig I wanted it today. It was very therapeutic. Just nature and writing with music in headphones. ITS A VIBE. Felt pretty calm. despite of hw my mood was in the mrng, evening felt good.

hola! Mucho guesto

So that was Hi and nice to meet you in Spanish. Its pretty fun actually I like Duolingo but I have no commitment. Hopefully I can work on that thru this as well.

then affirmations which I did and which had no effect. I mean its the first day wt do u expect.

So what now I don't feel like anything now. I mean its much better feeling than wt was there in the mrng. Yeah Ig imma end it heree.

gracias!

-Ann

[baregil]

processing my grief, 8 months later

brain's been itching a lot and i've found myself doing nothing for hours late at night during my off-days so i suppose i should try to manifest a semblance of productivity by writing about how things are in my life as they happen.

since i moved out, i've unpacked a lot of emotional baggage ranging from my earliest childhood disappointments to all the emotional maneuvering i'd had to do on my own as an adolescent just to get by and prevent myself from ceasing to exist (there were several attempts). it was nice to be able to unload all that with someone i trust and love (i would later do this with my cousins, which was also a nice give-and-take experience).

the peace that came with finally getting away from that still-living stormcloud was something i never thought i could experience, and it felt liberating.

this newfound high was a a little bit of a fake-out, i'd later realize, because the more i reveled in my solitude, the worse things got back home.

my parents had a tumultuous relationship. i would learn to pick sides every now and then, not fully understanding who was in the wrong. they fought a lot in every way you could imagine (if you factor out extreme violence, but there was still some there), and they would sometimes make me and my brother choose who to support.

the thing is, i never thought i was close with either of my parents. somewhere down the line, i just stopped trusting them to understand or be interested in anything deeper than what i showed to the world. i would learn, much later, that it was because i grew up with this knife pointed at my back, and acting outside of their expectations would hurt me. i was constantly afraid of what other people would say (i still am), how other people would treat them, and how they would treat me in return. it was always them and other people, them and other people, with no space left for me to express how i felt.

anyway, at the time, i developed a kind of indifference towards them, despite still actively seeking their help with the tedium of late high school and through the entirety of college. the fighting got worse and worse until it just got exhausting for my dad and he just started refusing to speak. even then, it still got worse.

as of this moment, i can confidently say that i was closer to my dad than i am to my mom. unfortunately, my dad's gone now, so that realization came way too late.

before my dad's passing, i often convinced myself that i hated both my parents. it was such a toxic household it was difficult to see anything positive about it. the energy of our home was so suffocating, it was easy to heave and just blame both of them for their own problems. they were kind of a package deal to me emotionally.

it was only when my dad passed that i got to really think about the times he tried. a few of my relatives would also tell me this. see, my dad kept to himself a lot. it's a dumb machismo thing that dads typically do and it annoyed the hell out of me because that kind of behavior robbed me of a healthy relationship with at least one of my parents. my dad generally despaired over a lot of things in my life, i know this to be true. he was the only father in his friend group who had a queer son (well, two), and i was deliberately shattering everyone's expectations when i turned 20, so he had absolutely nothing to talk about that would be of any interest to his friends. again, this problem stemmed from worrying more about what others thought and less about me.

going back to him trying, there were small attempts to be a dad to me. he'd offer to drive me to school/work, when i started collecting action figures he would ask a few things about them, and he'd sometimes fix some faults in my bedroom so i could sleep better. a lot of that flew past me because of the problems he had with my mom. man, the worst thing i had done to him was pick my mom's side without any hesitation when she came to me a wreck about his behavior towards something i choose not to specify.

anyway, this happened fairly recently, and it broke him. i would learn after his passing that when i moved out, he thought it was because of him. he thought i hated him so much i decided to leave. of course that was false. while i did leave because i wanted to experience peace, i didn't do it specifically because i hated him.

so that was a long fucking walk, and i apologize for the length i had written just to get to my point.

last night i experienced the end of god of war: ragnarok, and a certain dream sequence struck me like lightning. one of the main themes of the game was about preparing for death, and preparing for the grief that would come after it. it was said that to grieve deeply is to have loved fully, and that was it for me. eight months after my dad passed away, i was finally able to process the grief i was never able to grasp back then. it also hurt like hell.

i didn't get to say goodbye to my dad. though we got to talk a day prior, he passed away while i was asleep. i still feel so much guilt over that, although i convinced myself being able to talk to him the day before would have been enough, it really didn't feel true.

my dad died thinking i hated him, and the entire time i was away from home, i would later learn that he grieved. and it took a video game to make me realize what that meant to both of us.

this is my grief: knowing too late that i was loved deeply. constantly. not in the best kind of way, but in a way that would have been enough. words cannot express how sorry i am to have been unable to tell my dad how much i appreciated him and his cumulation of little gestures throughout our time together. how much i appreciated him trying, and how much that meant to me. it's too late to reassure him, and every time i say to the wind that i loved him, the wind would bite back with the uncertainty that he would hear me.

[minheeology]

one time thing ➳ k. minhee

pairing : cravity's kang minhee x gn!reader

word count : 855

warnings : like two curse words ?? lol

synopsis : ever the good students, you and minhee will do anything to get a good grade, including spending a day with each other.

you and kang minhee never got along. not when you were children, and not now, even in college.

everything was a competition for the both of you, whether it was being the best player on the soccer team, or having the best grades in school. you refused to lose to minhee, and he refused to lose to you. 

life can be funny sometimes, but you and minhee definitely weren’t laughing when you saw your names listed together for a project. you shot each other glares from across the lecture hall. it was bad enough that you both decided to attend the same college, and chose the same major. now you had to work together? you were cursing the universe as your professor dismissed you, trying to leave the hall as fast as you could.

of course, you weren’t moving fast enough, because you soon felt minhee’s presence beside you.

“listen, i don’t want to be your partner either, but this is a big part of our grade.” minhee rolled his eyes when he noticed you were ignoring him, “you know what? fine, i’ll write the essay, you draw the visuals. i’ve always been a better writer than you, anyway.”

“as if.” you finally looked at him, “you are not better at writing than i am, kang. you’re not better than me at anything.”

“that’s not what our marks said last semester.” minhee snickered as your face fell into a scowl.

“you’re not writing that essay.” you huffed, and minhee raised an eyebrow at this.

“so, what then? do you want to do it together?” he joked, but he became serious when you nodded, “what? no way, y/n. i’m not spending my weekend with you of all people. i have a life, you know. i have something called friends, i’m not sure if you’re familiar with those.”

“by 'friends', do you mean hyeongjun?” you shot back, “i believe that’s just a friend. singular.”

“whatever. when and where are we meeting? i’d like to get it done all in one day, so let’s not meet too late, alright?”

“pushy much?” you pulled out your phone to check your calender, “i’m free tomorrow around noon. yunjin is going home for the weekend, so you can just come to my dorm. make sure you shower first, though. you smell.”

you could hear minhee cursing you out as you walked away from him, a grin forming on your face.

➳ the next day. noon.

minhee was knocking at your door exactly at noon.

i guess he really meant it when he said he wanted to be done as quick as possible, you thought.

opening the door, it took everything in you to not let your jaw drop. you’d never seen minhee dressed down before, and it was a miracle that he actually looked… good.

“are you gonna let me in, or are you just gonna stand there looking stupid?” his voice was laced with annoyance.

shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you moved out of the way so he could walk in, “don’t be an asshole. i think we established that neither of us want to be doing this, so don’t make it worse than it has to be.” you closed the door, leading minhee over to the small desk in the corner of the room.

minhee said nothing as he sat down, before he pulled his laptop out, and then his notes. sitting beside him, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him as he did so. you hated to admit it, but kang minhee was attractive. 

“see something you like?” minhee’s voice broke you out of your thoughts for the second time since he’d been there, but this time, you could tell he was smirking.

shooting him a glare, you scoffed, “you wish, kang. don’t be so full of yourself, it isn’t a good look.”

“what if i did? wish you’d look at me like that more often, i mean.” minhee challenged, “what then?”

“what the fuck are you talking about? do you feel okay?” you spoke, despite the shock coursing through your veins.

“i feel fine.” minhee leaned closer to you, “what about you? how do you feel?”

refusing to back down, you stayed where you were, “fine.”

minhee just smirked as he leaned even closer. you could feel his breath on your face, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t anticipating his next move.

“is it okay…” he placed his hand on your cheek, “if i kiss you?”

“ew, don’t be gross.” you grinned before closing the gap between your lips.

pulling away after a few seconds, you and minhee could do nothing but stare at each other. had all of the hatred between the two of you blossomed into attraction? neither of you were sure.

“that was a one time thing. that’s not happening again.” you finally broke the silence.

“never again.” minhee agreed with a nod, beginning to type away on his laptop.

as you began to work beside him, you couldn’t hold back the smile that was forming on your lips.

 rumor has it that it was most definitely not a one time thing.

[monicashipsnickyjoe]

soulmate/modern au

Nicky has a nervousness about him that he’s never been able to explain. He keeps feeling like something’s missing. Like he’s forgotten the name of an important thing and it’s sitting, impatient, at the tip of his tongue. He can’t recall. Or he doesn’t know. It’s all terribly confusing, and so, so frustrating.

He’ll walk down the street, see a family of duckings that makes him smile, and turn to his right to tell... someone. No one’s there.

Sometimes, when he’s tired, he’ll order two coffees at the shop on the corner, making one much sweeter than he likes it. Only when he walks away does he remember he’s alone.

When his friends encourage him, he goes to bars. He meets men, and occasionally he will let them touch his arm or his shoulder or his thigh from the bar stool beside his. Sometimes, he lets them kiss him. Never, is he able to ignore the feeling of wrong that prickles over his skin and twists in his stomach. Always, he leaves without them. If he has their number, he will delete it before he gets home.

Tonight, he cooks at the stove. He doesn’t realize he’s made any mistakes until, holding two plates, he thinks of something Booker said at work and turns, ready to share. There are two chairs at Nicky’s table. Both are empty. Nicky looks at his hands, and cursing, leaves one plate on the counter and takes the other into the living room. He sits on the couch, plate on his lap, and turns up the sound on the tv until he forgets that he’s forgotten.

The next morning, on his way to work, he sees a selection of sketchpads in an art store window. He buys one, and a set of charcoals. He carries the bag proudly until he gets to the office, to the cubicle he shares with Booker, and realizes with a deep sigh and heavy frown that he does not draw.

Booker looks at the bag, then at him. He lifts one lone brow. “You start taking art classes?”

Groaning, Nicky throws the bag under the desk and collapses into the chair. Whatever this is, it’s getting worse. What started as tri-monthly slip-ups are turning into daily routines. “Maybe I should see a doctor,” Nicky says.

“Maybe.” Booker scratches his chin. Behind him, on his computer screen, a game of solitaire is opened over the report he is supposed to be writing. “Or it could just be what it obviously is.”

“Don’t start.”

“Soulmates, Nicky,” Booker says.

Nicky rolls his eyes. “Be serious.”

Booker swivels his chair the whole way toward Nicky and leans forward. “I am serious.” He’s not smirking. That is his serious face.

But soulmates?

“I’d have better odds at the lottery,” Nicky says. He’s seen thousands of soulbonds... in movies. To find one in real life is a one in a billion chance. More, perhaps. Nicky is just a regular guy with a bachelor’s degree in philosophy he doesn’t use, a desk job that he hates, and a caffeine addiction. Normal. Boring. Not near special enough to catch the attention of another person’s soul.

“Maybe you should play the numbers, then.” Booker twists his chair back toward his desk.

“Soulmates,” Nicky huffs. He shucks off his coat and starts his computer. “Ridiculous.”

*

Across town, Joe has purchased two coffees, one much too bitter for him. When he realizes, he’s so excited, he nearly drops them both. He stops on the street, places both coffees on the ledge of a windowsill, and opens his phone.

“Nile,” he says before she even finishes saying, “Hello?”

“It happened again.” Joe can’t stop laughing. “That makes everyday this week!”

“That’s great, Joe.”

“Do you think I’ll meet him soon?” Joe bounces on his feet. “If it’s happening everyday, then surely -”

“Maybe? I mean, who knows? There’s not a lot of concrete info on this stuff,” Nile says. There’s a yawn in her voice. He woke her - again. They go to the same college - Nile for the first time, Joe for the second - but their shared classes aren’t until the afternoon. He feels a little bad about it now. It dampens his spirits somewhat. “Except movies, but who knows if those are right.”

Joe tries to reel in his excitement. “Right. Of course.”

Nile must be able to tell, because she immediately perks, brightening her voice. “But, Joe. If it takes a little time, it will be worth it, right? He’s out there. You just have to find him.”

“Thank you, Nile.” Joe’s smile presses his cheek tightly to his phone. “I am sorry I woke you.”

“Swing by, bring me that coffee, and we’ll call it even.”

“I promise.” Joe hangs up.

He thinks of the groceries that stock his cabinets at home. More pasta than he’s ever needed before.

He thinks of the book of Roman philosophers that he purchased that now sits on his coffee table, waiting.

He smiles at a family of ducklings he sees by a pond, and turns, ready to tell the person beside him. No one is there.

Yet.

“Soulmates,” Joe tells the ducks. “Amazing.”

*

The following day, it’s raining when Nicky leaves the office. He doesn’t have an umbrella, so with a lengthy sigh, he hunches his shoulders and presses forward. The rain is cold on the back of his neck and he shivers. But once you are wet, you can’t be more wet, so there is some comfort in that.

He makes it to the bus stop and sneezes.

“Bless you,” says the man already there, standing beside the soaked bench. He has a blue umbrella open, hiding his face, and another, this one green, closed, tucked under his arm.

“Grazie,” Nicky says and wipes his nose with his sleeve. It’s damp, but so is everything.

The blue umbrella shifts up a little. Nicky looks the other way, down the street, for the bus. Something nudges him in the side. He looks, and it’s the handle of the spare, green umbrella.

“May I tell you a story,” the man offering it says. Nicky looks up into a pair of warm brown eyes and with a wide, welcoming smile. Soft-looking curls cover his head, and a well-groomed beard rounds his face. He’s wearing a leather jacket with a t-shirt underneath. Paint splotches cover both, in a rainbow of colors.

Nicky, stunned by this man’s beauty, can only nod. The man moves the umbrella, poking him again, and Nicky takes it. He doesn’t open it, though, he can’t get his hands to cooperate.

“I saw the weather report this morning,” the man says, voice so bright and happy, it warms Nicky up from the inside out. “And I grabbed two umbrellas before I left the house. Two. I didn’t even think about it until I walked into the studio and my friend noticed.”

He’s looking at Nicky and Nicky should say something. He tries, “That’s interesting.”

The man looks at the umbrella in Nicky’s hands, at the way he’s clutching it and not opening it. He takes a step closer, so that his open blue umbrella covers them both.

This close, Nicky can only see freckles.

“I have a question to ask,” the man says, “and I really hope the answer is yes.”

Nicky swallows hard. He nods.

“Do you like bitter coffee, pasta, and philosophy?”

Nicky’s breath catches in his throat. It cannot be possible, but... if it is. And if it is this man... Nicky’s heart leaps out of his chest with hope.

He clears his throat, he must find words now. “Do you...” Nicky stops and tries again. “Are you an artist, do you like things too sweet, and do you notice the ducklings?”

If Nicky thought this man’s smile was bright before, he was mistaken. For now, it is a beaming sun, pushing back all the gray.

“I love the ducklings,” the man says.

Any moment now, Nicky will awake, having fallen asleep at his desk, and Booker will mock him.

Instead, the voice in Nicky’s heart whispers, This one, and he knows.

The man reaches out a hand and places it on Nicky’s chest. Nicky must look like hell, drenched in rain, but this man stares at him with open reverence like he can see the moon in his eyes.

“Hello, my heart,” the man says. “I have been looking for you.”

Nicky’s having trouble with full sentences again, so he takes a step closer instead.

“My shared soul,” the man continues, speaking for them both now. He knows the words Nicky’s heart whispers. “My light. My warmth.”

He motions to himself, then. “Joe.”

Nicky does the same. “Nicky.”

“Nicky,” Joe repeats, and it takes all Nicky has not to melt into a puddle on the sidewalk, ready to be washed away with the rain.

“Joe,” Nicky says, and it’s sudden relief. The word he could never quite remember right there on the tip of his tongue. He says it again, loving the feel of it in his mouth. “Joe.”

It’s perfect. It’s everything.

Later, Nicky will cook the pasta in Joe’s cabinets, and Joe will sketch Nicky with the charcoal.

For now, Nicky places his hand over Joe’s on his chest and knows he’s home.

[kooktrash]

14 and jk pls

okay bestie, 14: sleepover and decide to play t or d BUT WITH A TWIST. I got inspo from the CUT game Truth Or Drink, but anyways. hope you like it. omg I’m scared

summary: you’ve been friends with Jungkook for months now, a severe thunderstorm and a drinking game blurs the lines between friendship and more.

warning(s): mature language, college friends, drinking, jungkook is a bit flirty, some of the questions are dirty, implied smut, friends with feeling. Plot with little porn.

truth or drink | jeon jungkook

- “The weather app sucks ass,” he huffed, staring out the window into the thunderstorm waiting for him outside. His eyes shifted down to the app, which changed from a warm night to showcasing clouds of gray and thunder on his screen.

“Severe Thunder Storm warning, if you are from any of the following districts, blah blah blah, remain sheltered from the time being until 6:45am the following day,” you read the weather alert out loud. Jungkook looked back at you, “Um what? I live clear across town, how the hell am I gonna get through that?”

It was true. Your dear friend lived far from your place, and the original plan for the two of you tonight was to study for your Psych exam and then go out for drinks with your friends. It had already been a struggle trying to get him to study, but now he was in an even worse mood because you weren’t going to be able to go out drinking. “Just sleepover crybaby,” you rolled your eyes making yourself comfortable on your couch, “Let’s drink or something.”

“Just us two?” He gnawed on his bottom lip nervously stepping away from the window and looking down at you, “Won’t it be boring?”

“Jieun’s got some drinking games here somewhere, check the media console,” you instructed him, stretching lazily as you pushed yourself up again, “I’ll go find something to drink for us. I think we still have some bottles of Soju laying around.”

“Truth or Drink, what the fuck is that?” Jungkook asked, scooting next to you on the coffee table as he held a little white box. Upon opening it he was met with four different card deck boxes, he read them carefully, “Which one should we do?”

He read the box, Last Call, eyes skimming the quick summary on the back, “Warning, do not play these questions unless it’s very late and you’ve got nothing to lose. Let’s play this one. Wait but it says three or more people.”

You poured Soju into two small glasses, “Yeah it’s to help find winners because the dealer has to choose between two answers. But let’s just play it a different way, there’s usually two questions on a card, we choose the best one, ask the other person and if they can’t answer they drink. And then we can ask the second question if we want to.”

“I need a beginner’s drink real quick,” he chugged down the liquor set in front of them, urging you to do the same, “I want to go first. I just have to pick a card from the pile and ask you?”

You nodded, setting two small piles on the table and waiting for him to decide which one he wants to ask. His eyes widened, “Oh fuck, these questions are heavy. First one and it’s already a lot. Um anyways,” he shook his head as if giving himself motivation, “Does our relationship bring out the best in you? In me? If not, why?”

You thought about it for a moment, “I think, we bring out the best in each other. You’re my best friend and you make me laugh easily and always make me feel comfortable and not a lot of people make me feel that way. I do think I am a better person because of our friendship.”

He wiped at his eye, pretending to shed a tear, “That was beautiful. Okay hurry up, ask me something.” He set the card to the side, waiting patiently for you to choose one. You laughed reading the question, “Who is in control of our relationship?”

“Fuck you, you know you are,” Jungkook huffed crossing his arms in front of him, “Everybody calls me your little puppy. I have separation anxiety it is not my fault.” The two of you chuckled, you watched him reach into the deck again, brows arching as he read, “What am I the most ignorant about?”

You debated answering. There were a few things your friend was ignorant about but you weren’t sure how to say it. In reality the two of you had barely been friends for a little over a year and though you hung out all the time you weren’t sure you were ready to have any deeper conversations. You reached for your drink, taking a drink swiftly ignoring the way his jaw dropped to the floor, “Don’t play with me, answer.”

“I can’t,” you shrugged, “I already took a drink. It’s Truth or Drink, not Truth and Drink.” He leaned forward a little, pout evident on his face, “Please. Please just answer this one. This is the only one I’ll ask you to do.”

“Fine!” You groaned throwing yourself back onto the pillow you set behind you, “I think you can be ignorant when it comes to your looks.” His brows furrowed, turning toward you, tempted to lay down as well. “I mean,” you thought for a moment, “Everyone knows you’re an attractive guy, except you. You’re always complaining about being single or lonely. And I know a ton of girls who’d kill to go on a date with you.”

“Wait,” he shook his head trying to process the information, “You think I’m attractive?” You rolled your eyes, sitting back up with a sigh, “That wasn’t part of the question. My turn.”

You sighed, reading the question out loud, “Do I often seem like I’m being fake?”

He thought for a moment, “Yes. Sometimes I feel like, you don’t really want to be friends with me, or that I annoy you and you just don’t know how to tell me to leave you alone. Or that you just keep me around because you’re bored.”

“Aw,” you frowned, “Oh my god, Kook I’m sorry I make you feel that way. I promise our friendship is 100% real and I am not being fake about it at all.” He smiled widely looking over to the other decks, picking the red one up, “Extra Dirty, let’s play it.”

“No,” you groaned as he changed the mood in the room rather quickly with his distracted mind. He ignored you reading the summary, “Sex, drugs, and rock n roll. All the questions your dark subconscious wants to ask your friends. Yeah let’s play it, the other deck was getting too emotional, can we do this one instead?”

“Fine but if it’s anything too weird I’m just drinking,” you told him. He nodded understandingly as he reached for a card, choking on his own spit for a minute before an evil smile came to his face, “What’s something you wish your ex would have done sexually, but didn’t?”

Fuck. Of course he’d be smiling at this question. Jungkook absolutely hated your ex boyfriend, Hobi. He thought he was rude and sexist and you had to agree just a little. You were friends with Hobi now but he wasn’t the best in a relationship. “Fuck,” you bit your lower lip in concentration, “I’ll tell you but this stays between you and I.”

He stuck his pinky finger out, locking it with yours as he waited eagerly for your answer. You weren’t going to pussy out of a question again so you were just going to say it. “He could never make me cum from eating me out, like never, not even with his fingers,” you hurriedly covered your face with your hands embarrassment filling you as it sat quietly on Jungkook’s end. The breakup was fairly recent so it was still a little awkward and the few hook ups you ve had since then sucked ass. “My turn,” you reached for a card taking his silence as a sign of awkwardness.

Huffing, you read carefully, “Do you find me physically attractive? What if I bat my eyelashes like this?” You did as the card said, batting your lashes at him with innocent and big eyes. He sat for a moment, “Most definitely, he said quickly grabbing another card, “You’re unbelievably attractive. Anyways.”

You could see his tongue push against his cheek, brows knitted together, “What’s your most complimented anatomical feature as described by your lovers?”

You chuckled lightly, “Realistically? Probably my chest.” You caught the way his eyes lingered down for a moment, face softening as he nodded his head. You giggled looking down at the card you just picked from the pile, “Are you loud during sex? Demonstrate with a dramatic interpretation of your signature sounds.”

“I’m drinking,” he mumbled but you shook your head laughing. “No no, you had me answer a question after I drank so I’m gonna do the same. I really want to hear what you got.” He groaned, covering his face in his hands, “Give me a minute, let me take this drink first.”

“Okay so,” he cleared his throat, “I wouldn’t say I’m loud, but I’m not quiet either. I think it also depends on what we’re doing. I’m louder when I’m getting my dick sucked, and it kinda sounds like, um,” he paused for a second. Breathing getting heavier as he began to show you, his mouth fell open, small whines leaving his lips followed by a couple grunts, “Fuck! Okay I’m done. Let me pick a damn card.”

You bursted out laughing as his ears turned a dark red. “It’s getting serious,” you giggled not noticing the way his embarrassed expression turned into a sly smirk, “Got your ass bestie, now it’s your turn. Give a passionate example of your dirty talk.”

You threw yourself back dramatically, debating on taking a drink or not. He smiled, “If you drink you’re a pussy.” “Fine hold on,” you say up scooting closer to him. Clearing your throat, you touched his shoulder lightly, bringing yourself closer to his ear too scared to say it loud so you chose to whisper instead. “You have really pretty hands Kook,” you started. He tensed underneath you for a moment, “I wouldn’t mind having them wrapped around my neck here and there.” Maybe it was the liquor already in your system but this wasn’t as embarrassing as you thought it’d be, and the goosebumps on his skin were making you want to say just a little bit more before it ended.

“And your fingers are so long and pretty,” you looked down at his tattooed hand, “I wonder how they’d feel all over me— Okay I’m done! My turn,” you grabbed a card, ignoring his silent stance. “If we were in a porn together, what category would it be under?”

He cleared his throat sitting straighter as he recollected himself, “Probably something along the lines of, ‘College Hunk Destroys Bratty Girl’ yeah that’d definitely be it.”

“You’re annoying,” you rolled your eyes as he went on for his turn, reading it loudly, “Are you a good kisser? If so, demonstrate.”

“It does not say that,” you muttered. You knew for a fact it didn’t. When Jieun got the game the two of you read every card in every deck and none of them were that suggestive. They said crazy things but nothing that involved intimate physical contact with someone else playing. “It does,” Jungkook said as matter-of-fact. “Okay then show me where it says that.”

“No.”

“Then you’re a liar,” you reached for the card but he held it away, “If you’re a bad kisser just say that Y/n.”

“I’m not!” You whined stretching forward for the card, hand pushing in his knee. He smiled at you, holding the card high as your faces were just a mere inches away from each other, “Well then demonstrate or take the L.” You sighed, hands using his legs to push yourself forward. He stared down at you, arm slowly lowering but his grip on the card was tight in case you tried snatching it out. You looked down at his parted and waiting lips, debating if you should actually go for it.

You were both a little tipsy, and you could always just blame your kiss on the alcohol. It wasn’t like you never thought about Jungkook in that way but you did your best to keep it as a simple friendship. Getting the courage, your back arched slightly as you leaned up to connect your lips with his softly. It was a soft kiss, his lips mets yours immediately going in for it. It wasn’t anything special but he was very obviously a good kisser. When you felt him dip in to further the kiss you attempted to pull away, his following lips going after you. Before you could catch your breath after your separation, his hand dropped the card, Both hands flying to your jaw and cupping your face in his hands as he pulled you in again.

You fell forward, hands gripping his shoulders to steady yourself. His large hands were soft, the pad of his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he pushed his tongue against you. You opened your mouth a little more allowing him access. Your could hear buzzing in the back, but as you tried to pull away, Jungkook only held you closer. You didn’t mind though, if you would’ve known kissing your best friend felt this good, you might’ve tried it sooner. His hands trailed down to your waist, pulling you swiftly onto his lap, as he leaned back against the legs of the couch. You pressed yourself closer deepening the kiss as your hands grinned onto his hair lightly. His hands brushed your sides and under your shirt. His cold hands on your bare stomach surprised you, the hand gripping a lock of hair pulled causing him to let out a breathy groan.

He pushed you down onto the floor, hovering above you as he wrapped your legs around his waist. His hands pushed your shirt up, kisses trailing down your jaw and neck, “If you don’t want this, tell me now because I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“I want you,” you told him as he looked down at you with doe eyes. “I want you too.”

yoongi: i got locked out of my place. ur at y/n’s right? can I come over?

yoongi: hellooooo

yoongi: ANSWER YOUR PHONE

yoongi: if I catch a cold I’m suing fat

A/n OKAY LISTEN. I wanted to put smut in but I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with that so I chose not to. I hope you like it, and I can always do a Drabble with smut if that’s something you want. Thank you for requesting bestie, and DONT BE SHY

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: hello, my loves! i am a senior in high school so the next two weeks are going to be extremely hectic for me with final exams and other senior stuff. i will try to get out chapters when i can but they may not always be on time!

Masterlist

Chapter 30

You returned home to see Spencer at the kitchen table with his laptop out and a bunch of papers sprawled out in front of him.

“What’s all this?” you asked.

“So you know how we were discussing moving into a slightly bigger house to have room for the twins,” Spencer said, “I found us a realtor and I have been printing out different houses that fit our requirements all day. You can go through them and I’ll send the approved ones over to her so she can schedule us a tour.”

“Alright, let’s see them,” you smiled, taking the seat next to him.

His hand immediately found its way to your belly and began his rubbing motions.

“This one is close to Jo's elementary school but she will only be there for 2 more years but the twins will be going there eventually. It’s just a little bit of a bigger yard than we have here. But, it’s pretty far away from your work,” Spencer stated.

He continued to go through the contenders, thoroughly explaining every pro and con that you wouldn’t even have thought of.

“This last one has the biggest backyard of them all. It’s about 8 minutes closer to your work than here. It’s even got a little sun room we can use as a book nook! It is farther from Jo’s school but it’s about a 3 minute drive to JJ and Will’s so we could start a carpool with them,” Spencer spoke.

“I think that one is my favorite as of now. And, I’m sure Jo wouldn’t have any arguments about being closer to her best friend,” you giggled.

“There’s also one more thing we need to brainstorm,” you began, “Names for the little ones. I honestly spent the better part of the day trying to think of some but I just can’t.”

“I have an idea,” Spencer smiled softly, “Ophelia.”

It was Spencer’s favorite song on your playlist that you played in the car. He even sang along to it sometimes, he actually had a nice voice when he wholeheartedly sang without caring about potentially embarrassing himself.

“Heaven help a fool who falls in love,” you grinned, finishing the lyric.

“I’m stuck on a boy name though,” Spencer huffed.

Jo came strolling into the kitchen to get her afternoon snack.

“Baby J, do you have any name suggestions for your little brother?” you asked.

Her face lit up and she ran back upstairs. She came racing back down with two books in her hand.

“Daddy, remember?” she held up a picture book.

“That’s the story I read you last night,” Spencer nodded.

“Name him ‘Oliver’ like the little baby elephant in the book!” she exclaimed.

“I actually love it,” you grinned.

“Ollie for short,” Spencer added with a smile.

“And for sister, Pinkalicious!” Jo beamed, holding up the other picture book.

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry. I think we already decided on ‘Ophelia’ for sister but we’ll keep that in the back of our minds,” you told her, giving her a pat on the head before she went back upstairs.

“I don’t know Spencer, Pinkalicious Y/L/N-Reid has quite the ring to it,” you giggled.

-

Your maternity leave had officially begun the week before you were due. You were lounging on the couch watching a nature documentary with Jo when you felt the sudden urge to use the bathroom.

As you stood, you felt the rushing of warm water trail down your thighs, effectively soaking your leggings, followed by a searing cramping sensation.

You immediately sat down on the hardwood floor, cringing in pain and exhaling sharply.

“Jo,” you breathed out, “I need you to call Daddy and tell him the twins are coming and get me a towel please.”

“Okay, Mommy,” Jo nodded, hopping off the couch and grabbing your phone.

She pressed Spencer’s contact as she ran upstairs to get you a towel.

Spencer was in the checkout line at the grocery store when his phone started to buzz in his pocket.

He fished it out, seeing your contact pop up, “Hey, love. I’m already in line but if you need something, make it quick so I can go run and get it.”

“Daddy! It’s Jo,” Jo announced from the other side of the phone.

“Hi, Princess. Is everything okay?” Spencer asked.

“Mommy peed a lot,” she started to say.

Spencer then heard your scream of pain in the background.

“And she said the twins are coming,” Jo stated.

“Uh-um-okay Jo, tell Mommy I’ll be there in 10 minutes. And um call Auntie JJ to come pick you up,” Spencer frantically spoke.

“Next,” the cashier called out.

“Um hi, I just got a call that my wife is going into labor so I have to go. I’m so sorry.”

The cashier smiled, “No problem. I think your wife needs you a lot more right now than these groceries.”

“Thank you,” Spencer rushed out of the store, breaking every speed limit on the way home.

JJ was pulling into the driveway at the same time Spencer was.

“Oh good, Jo called you,” Spencer said, exiting his car, “Thank you for taking her.”

“It’s no problem. She can stay with us for as long as you need,” JJ replied as they both rushed into the house.

You were still on the ground, sitting on the towel Jo retrieved for you.

“Spence, it hurts so bad like really really bad. Worse than Jo,” you grabbed his hand with tears running down your face.

“I’m so sorry, love, that I can’t take some of that pain away but we’ve got to get you to the hospital with doctors and nurses who can help,” he spoke softly, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumbs.

You nodded and Spencer held out his arm for you to grab on to so he could help you up.

“Hospital bag?” you questioned.

“Already in the car, love. You’re doing so good, look we’re almost at the car,” he encouraged you.

“I’m going to ruin your seat,” you huffed out, motioning to your soggy pants.

“Love, that is the furthest of my concerns right now,” he assured you, helping you into the car and buckling you in.

-

“My wife’s in labor!” Spencer announced as he helped you hobble into the ER.

Immediately, a nurse rolled a wheelchair over to you.

“I called in the car. Dr. Collins is supposed to be on call,” Spencer said.

“Yes, right this way,” the nurse guided you to a room in the delivery wing where Dr. Collins was already waiting.

“Ah, the Reids! I guess the babies decided to come out a week early,” she smiled as Spencer and the nurse helped you into the bed.

“I’m going to check to see how many centimeters dilated you are. You can start pushing at 10,” she stated, “...and you are somehow already there. These babies are very eager to meet their parents!”

“I’m going to check the ultrasound real quick,” Dr. Collins rolled the machine over to you and scanned the wand across your belly.

“So unfortunately, we aren’t going to be able to have a vaginal birth today like planned. The baby girl is ready to come out first but she is in breech position meaning she is flipped the opposite way we want her. We’re going to bring you up to the OR for a C-section, okay?”

You looked at Spencer panickedly.

“Scared, Spence” is all you could muster.

“I can be in there with her, right?” Spencer asked.

“That is correct,” Dr. Collins nodded.

“Love, you are the strongest and bravest person I know. You can do this,” Spencer brushed your stray hairs back, “I will be right by your side the whole time and then you can finally have Ophelia and Oliver in your arms.”

“Okay,” you nodded, wincing as another contraction intensified.

“I love you so much,” Spencer kissed the top of your head as they wheeled you up to the OR.

The nurse handed Spencer scrubs to put on over his normal clothes, “Love, I need to let go of your hand for just a second to put these on but then I’ll be right back.”

Spencer continued to give you words of encouragement and promises of all the things you were going to do together as a family with the new babies to distract you from the discomfort throughout the c-section.

When you heard the first cry, you started to get choked up.

“Oh god, she’s so beautiful, Y/N. We made that,” Spencer sobbed.

You squeezed his hand, “Go.”

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked.

“Ophelia is crying for her Daddy,” you smiled through happy tears.

Spencer stood and was out of your line of vision but you could still hear his occasional sobs and him calling out the weight and other things to you from across the room.

You heard the second distinct cry. You could already tell your babies apart from just their wails alone.

“Ollie’s here, love!” Spencer bawled, “He’s just as precious as Ophelia.”

You were stitched up and brought into the recovery room as the babies were measured, tested, and swaddled. Spencer rolled two bassinets into your room with the biggest smile on his face and watery eyes.

“I can’t believe they’re here,” you wept, “How are they so cute?”

Spencer gently lifted up Ollie and placed him into your left arm and then Ophelia in your right.

You held the cooing babies in your arms, looking down at them in complete awe.

“Spence, can you take one of them?” you asked, “I mean I would love to hold them both forever but I’m thoroughly exhausted.”

“Ollie seems to be on the same page,” Spencer smiled at the little boy snoozing in your arms, “I’ll take Ophelia for a little walk and make some phone calls to our families and the team.”

Sleeping didn’t seem to be on Ophelia’s schedule as she was staring around the room with her big wide eyes, trying to take in the whole world.

“Ophelia, that’s your Dada,” you explained to her even though you knew she couldn’t understand.

“Yes, I’m your Dada,” Spencer beamed as he accepted the baby into his arms.

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @rem-ariiana

[doubleddenden]

just got to part 6.

i... need to take a step back for a bit. a lot happened. a lot.

i'm gonna jot my thoughts down. Spoilers below. HEAVY spoilers. I'm not really ranting but I am... frustrated. Scared. But invested.

First of all, that whole tunnel bit. it was heavy. I don't like what's implied for some of them.

Saki has a lot of death flags- one of which is her fucking hair style. Second is how she seems to be getting closer to Takuma (i'd argue almost within shipping distance) and is like a sister to Aoi. Then the fog mentions a doctor. She's low on energy often and coughs sometimes. I think she's already dying of something. I'm scared because I actually like her.

Miu's encounter with the fog is... troubling. I don't think she's in danger, she's the youngest after all. But the fog taunted her by saying "Everyone hates you and knows you're a liar. Oh wait, your brother loves you... And so did that one guy. He seemed to REALLY love you!" and she screamed and cried. She's talked about not wanting to remember some painful memories, she's been playing out a fantasy where she has power... I don't want to go there. I really don't. But I think she may have been raped or something. Either that, or her parents were killed or something. I don't know. But the one guy bit just... Oooof. I don't like it when kids get hurt. I hate it. I hope I'm just one too many Criminal Minds episodes of analyzing here, but I'm scared I'm correct.

I already hated Shuuji, but he unraveled SEVERELY. I already thought he was a selfish jerk riding off a victim god complex, but its SO MUCH WORSE. He considered SACRIFICING one of them. He only wants everyone to survive so that way he can come out a hero and prove his dad wrong and prove he's better than his brother by getting whatever job or into whatever college he wants off of that story! AND THEN HE ACTUALLY STARTS BEATING UP LOPMON! I'm actually angry because nobody tried to stop him! And then Lopmon dark digivolved into Wendigomon, beat MEGASEADRAMON- an ULTIMATE to his CHAMPION, in ONE PUNCH, and THEN ATE, A T E. ATE. ATE SHUUJI. No room for misinterpretation, held him over his drooling mouth and ATE HIM ATTACK ON TITAN STYLE! BITING OFF HIS ARMS AND LEGS! BLOOD INTO THE CAMERA, ATE! HIM! And then we had to listen to Lopmon begging for help, we had to fight him, and we had to watch the fog eat him! Shuuji deserved it, sure, but Lopmon didn't! I'm actually very distraught. Lopmon didn't deserve that. He deserved a happy ending... not that...

I'm glad the Professor is alive, though.

But then of course, my worst fear after fucking Shuuji poisoned the well, now everyone is afraid of their partners! I was actually talking about it with a friend, and we both agree that these people lack some serious critical thinking skills. Minoru especially, because if they really wanted you dead, REALLY wanted you dead, why the fuck wouldn't they just kill you in your sleep? Why not just lie when danger is near? They love you and you're paranoid now because you fucks were too stupid to put 2 and 2 together to realize the reason Shuuji got eaten was because he snapped and Lopmon responded and was out of his fucking mind when he ate HIS FUCKING GOD DAMN ABUSER THAT NONE OF YOU STUPID FUCKERS DID ANYTHING ABOUT!

I know someone will say "guuhhhh but they're kidssss" but they're anime kids, they're not stupid like real kids! At least I thought they weren't. They complain about having "forced" the role of leadership onto Shuuji because he was older and how they "forced" everything on him- but this didn't happen. At all. Shuuji just showed up and started barking orders and declared himself leader. They were talking about how they weren't working together like he wanted- BUT THEY WERE! THEY WERE WORKING TOGETHER! Even when Shuuji kept throwing wrenches into their plans! Takuma and Aoi were leading the group just fine! Even WITH Shuuji there literally bitching and moaning about EVERYTHING while everyone else did the the actual work and risk taking so they could actually FIND A WAY HOME!

ugh... I'm actually at the point I have a headache. Its a lot to process. I don't want to hear how Shuuji didn't deserve it because he absolutely did, I don't care how sad his backstory is- he had a choice to be a different person, and chose to become his father, so that's all his fault. Trust me, I've been in his exact shoes with my mother! I'm not a perfect person, but I'm not that bad and I've decided to try not to become that bitch. He leaned WAY into it. He could've actually used critical thinking and empathy to realize this adorable lil bunny rabbit with nothing but love in his tiny widdle heart was NOT the same as the snarling sharp toothed monster trying to eat him, but he didn't and instead took out all of his pent up aggression out on him, so that's also his fault. He was not a good person- He pretended to be, and he was a good actor that could disguise his motives, but he did not actually give a shit about anyone except himself and how he could spin this tragedy to help himself. And the fact he wanted to use Lopmon to kill anyone that stood in his way, including his father and brother- which I guran-damn-tee you would include Takuma, Minoru, Kaito, and the others if Wendigomon was coherent.

I'm very conflicted, because Shuuji absolutely deserved to die, and this is absolutely just desserts. But Lopmon did not. Lopmon deserved to be adopted by Saki or Takuma or Aoi or Miu or whoever else and be loved. The information on the characters other than him is troubling, but i am curious.

But god damn, I wish they would fucking think. I really do. If they had called out Shuuji on his bullshit and abusive behavior toward Lopmon IMMEDIATELY, then we maybe would have one happier bunny boy with us now.

But I am convinced that Dracmon is the one to listen to in the future when it comes to danger. He called that shit BEFORE they went into the tunnels, he called that shit BEFORE Lopmon dark evolved. I would trust this funky vampire with my life.

Oh, and I learned you can cross Karma for evolutions. I had high harmony and got Tyrannomon, then got high Morality and got MetalGreymon. I'm tempted to go high Wrath and go Machinedramon.

[astriiformes]

Tomorrow is my first day of school since late 2017, and I am having the most complicated mix of emotions imaginable.

I don’t know what the last day of college I attended before this was. Sometime in late November or early December of what I thought would still be my junior year, even after crashing and burning and withdrawing from another semester when I was a freshman, I stopped going to classes and my two museum volunteer positions, because my mental health was a complete wreck. By December 8th, I was checked in to the local hospital’s mental health ward for being suicidal.

So much has changed since then. I moved back home, ostensibly to recover enough to return to school soon. My mental health got worse. I came even closer to killing myself. Some of my dearest friends in the world figured out how to help me move to another state where I could actually get back on my feet. My mental health got better. It’s been up and down since, but never near as bad as it was that fateful December that changed everything for me.

I’m doing so much better, truly, and I hope it means all this actually sticks this time. But I can also already feel myself creeping into terrifying familiar states of mind and anxieties I haven’t dealt with for years, and school hasn’t even started yet. I don’t want to get worse again. I know I have so much more in-person support than I did back then, and have done some real healing, but I have new stressors too -- the fear that classes might go entirely online this semester, which I know would be an utter disaster for me academically; the creeping shame of having failed so completely before, and going back to finish a degree I thought I’d have by 2019 at age 24 instead, when I used to be my family’s academic golden child; the fact that as part of coping with my failure, my mental pendulum has swung to almost the other extreme: I’ve come to accept, on some level, that my worth doesn’t come entirely from my performance in school, but to do so sort of went and tried to convince myself it’s okay to be worthless instead of finding other real sources of worth.

I’m scared. I’m hopeful. I’m a wreck. I’m at least a little excited. I’m unsure. I’m clinging to what mental health progress I’ve made in the last few years. I’m terrified of what mental health progress I might undo. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more topsy-turvy about a decision in my whole life -- even deciding to move up here, I knew I had almost no other choice. Deciding to go back to school was entirely my choice. I still don’t know if it was a good one. I still can’t entirely tell if my desire to finish what I started is because it’s something I actually feel ready for and truly want, or if it’s my personal shame whispering in my ear again that if I don’t, it will tarnish me forever. It feels, in a lot of ways, like my last shot at this, because if I’m not ready now, I’m not sure I ever will be, and another failure would probably be a sign I should look at pursuing other career options -- ones that don’t require me to get through a college degree -- and to stop flinging myself against a wall that thus far has only ever hurt me. Or maybe, just maybe, this time I’ll actually climb it. That uncertainty terrifies me.

Once more unto the breach.

[johnsamericano]

Hey! Can I request an e2l truth or dare/spin the bottle w haechan <3 tyyyy xx

Here you go ☺️

“I bet this was your plan all along.” Donghyuck whispered, his face just a few inches apart from yours. “I bet you begged your pathetic little friend to give you this dare.” The whole room watched you expectantly, waiting for one of you to make a move.

“You wish.” You cupped his cheeks, pulling his face closer to yours but still not connecting your lips. “Don’t get your hopes high, I don’t intend on engaging a relationship with an asshole like you.” With that final line, the space separating you became null. Your boldness surprised him, but he couldn’t say he disliked it.

Your tongue traced his bottom lip, his mouth opened, giving you full access to his wet cave. He tried his best not to show how much he was actually enjoying it, but his small moans, as quiet as they were, were perfectly audible to you.

“And...time!” Your friend, who had started a timer, shouted. “Nice job, y/n.” You pulled away, Hyuck seeking for your lips as the distance between you became bigger.

You weren’t oblivious to the looks Haechan kept shooting at you for the rest of the night, but decided to play dumb, just to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Let me give you a little background on your story with Haechan. During your junior year, you developed the biggest crush on him. He was part of the basketball team and an absolute genius, you weren’t planning to confess until one day, you caught him staring at you. ‘Maybe he feels the same way about me’ You thought back then. You couldn’t be more wrong.

“I think you’re a very interesting person and I’d like to get to know you better...maybe we’ll even end up being more than friends.” You extended your hand with a big smile.

He scoffed.

“Gross.”

The rumor spread across the whole school in a matter of days, every single student laughing at your back and all because of Lee Donghyuck. Your senior year was even worse. Haechan decided teasing you would be his new hobby, leaving small “love” letters on your locker, sneaking pictures of him inside your backpack and making you look like an absolute fool in love.

Sometimes you even wondered if he had purposely applied for the same college just to get on your nerves.

“Haechan, do you need an ice pack? Your face has been burning for a while now.” It was finally his turn to be mocked, and you were loving every minute of it.

Annoyed, he stood up, abandoning the game and earning a collective string of complaints. You smiled to yourself, heart feeling lighter at your little revenge.

“Guys, I have to pee, you keep playing.” You hated drinking beer, you had to go to the bathroom every five minutes.

You were about to open the bathroom door when someone grabbed your wrist.

“What is it Lee? Came to ask for another kiss?” His face was stoic, something odd coming from him.

“Can we talk?” You squinted.

“About what?”

“In private, please.” You looked for any sign of mischief in his features, but his face remained serious.

“Fine, lead the way.” He guided you to one of the host’s empty bedrooms, your eyes widening and your mind thinking of places to hit him in case he tried something funny.

“Just so you know, I always carry pepper spray with me.” His nose scrunched, taking a seat on the floor with his back against the mattress.

“Jesus, y/n. Who do you think I am?”

“Just making sure.” You sat beside him, tapping the floor with your white shoes. “What did you want to talk about.”

“I like you.” He blurted out, the alcohol in his system giving him the needed courage to confess.

“Because of the kiss?” You couldn’t contain your laughter.

“Of course not!”

“Then?”

“You really didn’t know, did you?” He placed his elegant hand above yours, the warm skin sending shivers down your spine. “I know I wasn’t the best person during junior year, I was just so desperate to fit in that I didn’t take your feelings into account. I wanted so bad to be your friend, but I didn’t want my other friends to reject me.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but, is this an apology?”

“Yes.” His thumb caressed the back of your hand, something he had longed to do for so long. “I wanted to apologize when we graduated, but you made it so obvious that you hated me, so I just stuck with the teasing, it was the easiest thing to do back then.”

“You’re an asshole, Lee Donghyuck.” His face went pale. Maybe he should’ve kept his feelings buried. “But maybe an Oreo frappe could change my mind about you.”

“Are you...?”

“Tomorrow, 12:00 p.m. Don’t be late or I’ll tell everyone you moaned during our kiss.” He simply stared at you, like you were some sort of alien. “What?”

“Does this mean you forgive me?”

“Not quite yet, but it’s a start.” You laced your fingers with his, admiring the size difference between your hands. “Now, I want to get to know the real Donghyuck. Tell me everything about him.”

[tangent101]

An interesting Life is Strange writing concept

I just recently stumbled across an interesting concept for Life is Strange in which Alex Chen was adopted by the Caulfield family and went to Blackwell with Max... and it got me thinking.

First, I need to say this outright. I am using this fanfiction's idea as a launching point for brainstorming of concepts and ideas. My ideas are no better or worse than the fanfiction. This other story is fantastic on its own and does not need my input and this is not a criticism of the story. Instead, it's an examination of a basic concept: What happens if Alex Chen were to be adopted by the Caulfield clan.

The first thing to consider is this: Alex is a psychic. She is predominantly empathic and can get flashes of thoughts when emotions are intense enough and/or she focuses on what that person is thinking. So... this has caused a number of fostering situations to fall through.

Interestingly enough, there is a point when the Caulfield clan could have taken in Alex before this became an issue... and that's when Alex was 11 and first put into the foster care system. Foster parents are actually given a stipend to help pay for the financial expenses behind caring for a child, and in theory that could have been enough money to keep Ryan and Vanessa from moving out of Arcadia Bay.

But let's say that they actually adopted Alex (and thus potentially forfeited that financial boon). Would they adopt Alex and abandon Gabe to the system? Would we have two kids becoming Max's big brother and kid sister?

In this situation, Chloe would obviously know that Max has siblings now. And what's more, I cannot help but think that Alex, with her burgeoning psychic abilities, would push Max to either stay in contact or get back in contact with Chloe.

Okay, let's change things up. Alternative Reality #2 had the Chen family uproot themselves as Alex's father looked for employment. He ended up working at the docks in Seattle but losing his job when the incident happens that resulted in Social Services putting Alex and Gabe in the foster system. Alex languishes in a foster care system that is not good. Gabe ends up in Juvie. And when Alex was 14, she ends up fostered to the Caulfield family.

At this point, it's 2011. Max has been out of contact with Chloe for several years. She is pining though. And Alex, with psychic nerves rubbed raw, likely has come across several instances of this. Max, being the sort of person who hates causing a commotion, would not tell her parents about any weirdness and indeed if her parents were getting weirded out likely would come to Alex's defense. So after a small waiting period you end up having Alex adopted by the Caulfield clan... with emerging psychic powers but a family that is far more comforting and caring than the foster care system.

Alex knows how much Max misses Chloe. Yes, it's been a couple of years. But Alex herself has had friends in the foster care system that she has fallen out of touch with, others that ditched her, and she likely knows what it's like to be abandoned. Alex likely would push Max to get back in touch with Chloe early on.

I can't help but think that Max would succumb to Alex's good-intended urging on this. So Max contacts Chloe. She sends a text.

Let's say that Rachel intercepted the text. She blocks Max's number. Chloe doesn't need that drama in her life. (Bad enough that Joyce is constantly bringing up Max, and Chloe is having trouble letting her go. It's better this way. Sometimes you have to move on. Jealousy has nothing to do with this.)

Or maybe David confiscated Chloe's phone and blocked the number and deleted the text because Chloe doesn't need old friends when he's trying to break down this young soldier to rebuild into a productive member of society according to his military mindset (HA!) and Rachel's innocent in this.

Alex wouldn't just let this drop. Anyone who's played True Colors knows how stubborn our young lady is. And she's driven by psychic powers as well that are blossoming under a more loving home. Wouldn't Alex follow up with her own text? And Rachel or David likely wouldn't intercept every text or block her as well. Hell, she might go for broke and call Joyce. And Joyce sure as blazes would make sure that Chloe knew Max was contacting her. (And that Max has a sister now.)

So Chloe is now in touch with Max. The roadblocks are quite important because if Rachel blocked Max's number, then this is going to cause a bit of a blowup that weakens Chloe and Rachel's relationship, while if David were the culprit then Joyce is going to have words with him (as she loves Max and sees her as not only a second daughter but a stabilizing influence).

Of course, there is always possibility 3 - neither David nor Rachel tried to block Max's efforts to contact Chloe and that went off without a hitch but where's the fun in that? XD

Anyway, Alex would be urging Max to remain in touch with Chloe. She would also likely notice that Max is crushing hard on Chloe and may very well push Max down that path. And given that Rachel was flirting with other people... well, Max being back in Chloe's life could do one of two things - either draw Rachel closer into Chloe's circle out of jealousy, or give Rachel reason to push Chloe toward Max and do her own thing while remaining friends with Chloe.

I like Rachel. I can't help but think it would be #2, especially given what we know about Rachel from the original Life is Strange. She cared deeply for Chloe and didn't want to hurt her. So... yes, I can see Rachel helping encourage Chloe to let bygones be bygones and to pursue her own romantic leanings toward Max. We'd have shippers on either end pushing the two together (Alex pushing Max and Rachel pushing Chloe).

It might even be amusing and interesting to see Rachel and Chloe drive up to Seattle to meet Max and for Rachel in that situation to meet the mysterious Alex Chen who she's been texting and possibly flirting with on the phone. (Amberchen? Hmmm...)

One other thing that is likely to happen is that Max would be a stabilizing influence on Chloe's life. She is a pressure valve even as Rachel was more of an instigator. So with Max urging Chloe to focus more on school, we may very well see Chloe starting to apply herself more to her classes. And if Chloe doesn't get kicked out of high school then David has one less thing to rail against Chloe with.

Rachel and Chloe would graduate a year before Max would (and two years before Alex). With Max back in Chloe's life, and a new friendship growing between Alex and Rachel? Then we may very well see Rachel less desperate for an escape because now there is a plan. Go to college with Chloe up in Seattle. Sure, it's not California but there are other advantages to the region (including legal weed!) and having good friends there would be reason enough. She escapes Jeffershit's death trap by never getting close to him. Nor does she get close to Frank. Similarly, Max has no reason to go to Blackwell because Chloe is coming to Seattle!

And Alex? Alex gets a home life that is far more loving than what she went through in the original timeline. And she has good friends... which will be useful when on October 13, 2013 a truly nasty storm strikes Arcadia Bay, wiping out most of the town and killing hundreds of people including the student body of Blackwell Academy. Because fate is a fickle bitch and Chloe Price wasn't dying as a sacrifice in a bathroom in Blackwell Academy. But you know? While Chloe, Rachel, and Max grieve... Max never blames herself for something outside of her control, and the girls never went through the horrors of the original Life is Strange.

Well done, Alex! You saved the day once again! ^^ And amusingly enough, when Max, Chloe, and Rachel go with Alex to meet her brother Gabe, Max is on hand to witness Gabe's death, her powers emerge, and she saves Alex's brother... but that is a different story. ;)

[goldenretriever-nicknelson]

New beginnings [P.P]

A/N: I guess I’m unofficially back or in other words I got too excited that I finished a fic and wanted to post it. I was inspired by the picture of Tom in a graduation cap and I really wanted to write Peter’s graduation which hopefully we’ll see in the movies. Anyway enjoy and now I’m gonna go hibernate until I can actually write the next chapter of tale as old as time. 

I’m also looking for a new beta reader for my fics so please let me know if you’d be interested! 

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

WC: 2.9k

Warnings: some angst and tears but mostly fluffy fluff

Peter took a deep breath as he looked at himself in the mirror. It almost felt like a dream version of himself staring back as he looked at the black robes and graduation cap that sat on his head. He’d dreamt and wondered about this day for so long and now it was finally here. His high school graduation. 

His eyes flickered over to the photo frames that stood on his dresser, two men stared back at him and Peter imagined their proud faces. He wished with all his heart that they could see him walk across that stage or give his speech. 

“They’re still here with you and they’d be so proud Peter.” 

Peter turned as he heard his aunt’s voice from the doorway. He sniffled and nodded, not realising that tears had started to form in his eyes. May wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close. He melted into the familiar comfort and hugged his Aunt just as tightly back. 

“Thanks May.” 

She pulled back and adjusted his cap, smiling proudly at her nephew. He’d been through so much even death and yet here he was, valedictorian of his class and ready to graduate. 

“I’m proud of you too.” 

Peter could sense May began to cry and he quickly shook his head with a laugh. “If you cry, I’m gonna cry and then neither of us will get to the ceremony on time.” 

She gave a watery laugh and patted his cheek, taking a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m gonna go get the car ready.” 

“Thanks May!” He called after her as she left his room, closing the door behind her and leaving Peter once again to his thoughts. He rehearsed his speech again and then again, nerves growing in the pit of his tummy. 

Just as he was leaving his phone buzzed. He worried that it would be an alert of some kind but Peter was pleased to see your name staring back at him with the words “Good luck!” and a dozen heart emojis underneath. He smiled wide as he headed to the car and met May, suddenly feelings less nauseous than before. 

May tried to speak to Peter on the drive but he could only focus on one of two things: you and his speech. He imagined what you would be wearing and the smile that could instantly make him feel better as it lit up a room. May noticed a pink tint forming on Peter’s cheeks and smiled to herself as she saw you waiting for him outside the school.

“Ready?” She looked over at her nephew and smiled, sighing softly. May couldn’t believe how much Peter had grown and how far he’d come in such a short time. He wasn’t the scared kid she knew anymore, he was braver and stronger and he’d faced everything that life had thrown at him. He deserved this moment of happiness. 

Peter nodded and took a deep breath, his hands tightly clutching the cards on which his speech was written. 

“You got this.” May encouraged with a smile. “And it looks like it’s not just me cheering you on.” She nodded to where you were standing, waiting patiently for Peter. He looked over and the smile that broke out on his face was wide enough to squash all his fears. 

You were wearing a pretty mid-length dress under your gown with a pair of sneakers and your hair perfectly styled underneath your cap. You looked beautiful. He told you so as he walked up to you, both of your eyes lighting up with happiness as Peter hugged you, practically picking you up off the ground. 

Peter always made you blush with his compliments and he’d love it when your cheeks went red because of him. He thought it was the cutest thing. Even on your worst days, Peter would always tell you why he loved you and why you were the best thing that ever happened to him. 

You and Peter had been dating for a little over a year now and there wasn’t a moment you would change. Even through the hardships and the fights, every moment with Peter was worth it. The biggest challenge had been college acceptance letters. 

Peter had got accepted into Empire State University and you had chosen to go to Columbia. Luckily it was only a 25 minute drive but even you both knew how crazy college would probably get. You’d heard about relationships, not even just the long distance ones failing because of the workload of college plus with Peter’s spidey duties there was added stress but you had both made a promise to try your hardest to make it work. You couldn’t lose each other, not after everything you’ve been through. 

He was always amazed by how perfectly your hand fit into his as if it were made to be held by him. You noticed as you walked closer to where the ceremony was taking place that Peter’s grip became tighter and his palms became sweatier. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay.” 

Peter looked at you and took a deep breath, nodding. He smiled as you cupped his cheek, leaning into your touch as it comforted him. 

“Thank you princess.” 

He leaned in and captured your lips in a sweet kiss, letting himself get distracted by the taste of your lips and the way they moved against his own. As he held you close he felt his nerves fade away and he felt he could take on anything. You were his anchor as his whole body felt on edge. 

Peter had never been one for public speaking. Sure he would give speeches as Spidey when he needed to and even though he was still awkward and nervous, he was hidden behind a mask and no one would be able to make fun of him the next day. 

As if you had read his mind, you placed your hand on his arm and kissed his cheek. “Pete, it’s the last time you’re gonna see most of these people so who cares what they think. Just keep your eyes on me, you got this.” 

Your words brought comfort to Peter as he held onto the cards for his speech. He could feel the kiss on his cheek lingering and it made him feel stronger to know he had you to support him. You took his hand in yours once again and smiled before leading the way to your seats, right next to MJ and Ned who both gave Peter a thumbs up.

He waved at May a few rows behind them and smiled, remembering to focus on his breathing as the time drew nearer. He tried not to focus on how many people there were or the different sounds that made him on edge. You knew that when Peter was nervous his senses started to make him feel on edge so you squeezed his hand and leaned into his side. 

Peter noticed your small gesture and focused instead on you; the smell of your perfume, the hum of your heartbeat and the way the sun was catching your face in a serene way. He calmed down almost instantly but it didn’t last long as soon after his name was called by Mr Harrington. 

“I’d like to welcome your class valedictorian, Mr Peter Parker.” 

The crowd of people applauded and it took Peter a moment to process as you pushed him lightly onto his feet. With one last squeeze of your hand, he pulled away and gave you a nervous smile as he walked up the small stairs to the stage. 

Peter stood behind the podium and placed his cards down, his eyes fixated on them for a moment before he looked up at the audience. He took a deep breath, trying to stop the shake of his hands as he gripped onto the podium. 

“Woo Penis Parker!” 

It didn’t take two guesses to know who was shouting in the crowd but Flash was quickly shut down by MJ who kicked him in the shin. Peter smiled at that before his eyes found yours and he felt the anxiety in his mind quieten just enough for him to start speaking. 

As he spoke and delivered his speech about gratitude and learning, his eyes rarely left yours. He rambled a bit off text as he thought of funny anecdotes to tell about his time at Midtown and he noticed the proud smile on your lips as well as the tears that had started to gather in your eyes. 

“My time at Midtown has been interesting for sure. I’ve done things in the past 4 years that I would never have dreamed of and at one point I wasn’t even sure if I’d make it here.” 

You sniffled, remembering when Peter had gone to space and left you and May worried and how the blip had almost threatened to tear you apart. You remembered the night that you first saw Peter after the battle, his face was bruised and the marks of cuts still lined his face but he was more broken beyond that. The emotional scars he’d suffered were far worse than any physical ones. 

He used to lay in your arms and cry most nights and whenever he slept he’d wake with terrible nightmares. Sometimes he’d space out or have flashbacks that left him shaking but you held him through it all. 

“I wouldn’t be here without my friends,” Peter gave a subtle nod to MJ and Ned who smiled back at him. “My family,” He looked over at May who was wiping her eyes with a tissue and Happy who was smiling back at him. “And my love.” His eyes finally met yours once again as he smiled wide. You felt a tear slip down your cheek but you didn’t even care as you smiled back. 

“I am proud to be standing here as your valedictorian and you should all be proud of yourselves too. Part of the journey is the end and tomorrow will mark the start of the new ones we take wherever they lead.” 

Peter smiled as he finished his speech, being met with loud applause from the crowd. You made sure to be extra loud and even gave a whistle which made Peter laugh. His cheeks were red but his smile was brighter than the sun as he walked off of the stage and came back to his seat. You wrapped your arms around him tightly and kissed his blushing cheek. 

“I’m so proud of you baby.” You whispered as you both sat back down, Peter’s smile widening at your words as he took your hand and squeezed. 

The rest of the ceremony went by slowly as you both waited for your names to be called. You watched MJ sigh as she went to grab her diploma but you could tell she was excited and that there was the hint of a smile playing on her lips as you, Peter and Ned all cheered for her. 

Ned almost tripped up the stairs as he got his but quickly laughed it off and happily accepted his diploma. His family cheered just as loud as his friends and Ned walked off the stage with a wide smile, being careful not to trip again. 

When it was your turn, you could feel the pace of your heart pick up, every nerve in your body was tingling. Peter kissed your cheek before you got up and made you blush as you went to accept your diploma. You swung the tassel of your cap to the other side and did a little bow which made Peter and your supporters in the crowd cheer even louder. You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry more as you walked off stage. 

Peter almost looked startled when they finally read his name. He got up quickly and walked up onto the stage, feeling more confident than he had before his speech. He smiled at the teachers and members of staff as he passed them before shaking hands as he got his diploma. He smiled out at the crowd focusing on you and May as you both cheered him on. 

Peter wished he could freeze the moment, the two most important people in his life smiling proudly at him and he knew that if Tony and Ben could be here they would be too. And for the first time in a long time, Peter was proud of himself as he stood on that stage. 

Soon enough all the names had been read and the ceremony was coming to a close. There were so many mixed emotions as the principal said the last words of his speech about moving on and wishing luck to all the graduates. It felt strange, like a dream. This chapter of your lives was really ending. 

Peter watched all the graduation caps being thrown up into the air, it almost felt like slow motion as they fell to the ground signifying the end of his high school years. He was grateful and sad and happy all at once. Yeah there had been bad times but the good times far outweighed them. 

He smiled as stole a kiss from you as you parted to go be with your own families. Peter headed towards May and Happy, accepting hugs from both of them. 

“You did so good, honey!” May ruffled his curls, making Peter roll his eyes fondly. “Happy cried too.” 

Happy gave May a look before looking back at Peter with a laugh. “Your speech was really good Peter.” 

“Thanks, both of you.” Peter smiled at them, he owed a lot to both of them especially May who had raised him. She hugged him again tightly and kissed his head before noticing you walk up to the three of them. 

“Congrats Y/n!” May pulled you into the hug with Peter, making both of you laugh. Peter was the first to pull back, his cheeks almost bright red as he gave his aunt a knowing look before asking if he could go with you. May nodded but not before kissing his cheek. 

You swung your hand with Peter’s as you walked away with a giggle. Peter lifted your hand to his lips and kissed it, making you blush. You smiled and giggled with Peter as you walked away from everyone else, soon stopping at a nearby tree which you instantly recognised. 

When Peter had first asked you to be his girlfriend, you were sitting under this tree reading as you sat between his legs on a warm summer day. You remembered the small shake in his voice as he asked you and how his smile had widened as you said yes. It was as easy as answering your own name.

Peter showed you a little tool knife which had his uncle's initials engraved and smiled. “I thought we could officially make this our spot.” You smiled wide and nodded, squeezing his hand before he started to carve both of your names with your help. 

You both smiled proudly at your work, Peter tracing his fingers over the carving of your names with forever written underneath. “It’s perfect.” He turned to face you and cupped your cheek, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “just like you.” 

You blushed and leaned into his touch, smiling softly at your boyfriend. Both of you felt so lucky to have each other especially after the blip. You never wanted to take each other for granted and you made sure you never did. 

Peter’s hand slipped into his pocket and pulled out a small box, looking like it contained a ring. You looked at him with wide eyes in shock. 

“P-Peter, I- are you-?” 

Peter furrowed his brow before realising what you were saying, his eyes going as wide as yours. He quickly shook his head and blushed with a laugh. “N-no. Maybe one day but no I’m not proposing.” 

You smiled at the mention of the future you hoped with Peter and let out a small sigh of relief. After all, you had only just graduated high school. That was a big enough life milestone for today. 

“This is a promise ring.” Peter spoke as he opened the box, showing you a beautiful silver ring that was engraved, For me, there is only you. “I love you Y/n, i don’t know what i’d do without you and I don’t want to be without you. These past few years have been crazy for sure but you’ve been my anchor through it all. This ring is to remind you that even though we might be in different places and we might not be able to spend as much time together as we want, I will always be yours. It’s only you, always has been, always will be.” 

You sniffled and wiped away a tear that escaped from your watery eyes. “Pete I-” You shook your head, feeling speechless as you held out your hand and Peter slipped the ring onto your finger. You didn’t know what to say so you said the only words that made sense in that moment. “I love you.” 

“I love you too princess, so much.” Peter caught your tears before pulling you in for a kiss, locking his lips effortlessly with yours. 

Peter knew that he’d lost a lot in such a short time and the pain of those losses might not ever go away but he had you and May, his friends and a new journey ahead of him that he was ready to take. Saying goodbye to a chapter of his life was hard but he had to focus on what laid ahead. After all, as a wise man once said; part of the journey is the end.

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[tinyboxxtink]

"Not My Yacht" *Chapter 4*

Part 3

Part 5

Mwahahahahaha!

Okay so-- obviously, this story is taking place in an alternate universe. Clearly. I need you all to follow me along on this journey, suspend your disbelief, yeah? I did my best at a backstory, I went over it for a long time. I'm pretty sure every detail is covered. If not, I apologize, let me know and I'll fix it.

I think this is gonna be one hell of a ride, people. I'm super excited, are you?!

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

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@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

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(should I keep tagging @storiesofsvu ? I'm gonna do it until she says for the love of god STOP. 😂)

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

There was a very long, awkward pause before Rafael finally spoke:

“....What did you just say?”

“Please don’t make me repeat it,” You bit your lip as you looked at him with very sad, still very frightened eyes.

“I...I don’t…how...why...HOW is this man your husband?!”

“I...Well, he--” You muttered.

“He’s a PSYCHOPATH, Y/N!”

“Well he wasn’t when I met him!” You screamed unintentionally. You hadn’t meant to be that aggressive, but your instincts kicked in whenever a man yelled at you now.

“...I mean, I guess he was but you just said it yourself: He’s smart. He’s slick. He was sweet and charming and handsome, and I just-- we just-- “

“He seduced you,"

"I fell in love with him, Rafael! Jesus, it wasn't a one night stand. We were in love," You took a shaky breath. "Look I was a young, naïve, impressionable broke college student, okay? And he-- he was kind, and generous, and--”

“I don’t, I can’t have this conversation with you,” He started to walk into his secret room to get your clothes so that you could leave.

“No, please Rafael,” You grabbed his arm. “Please, let me explain? Please,” You pleaded with him.

“....Fine,” He sighed, unable to ignore your whimpers and tears.

“He wooed me, he gave me everything and anything I asked for. He lived in this giant loft uptown, I thought he was amazing. Looking back on it now, the loft was probably owned by people that he murdered and he’d kill people to get things I wanted, but I didn’t know that at the time!” You paced the floor while thinking out loud.

“And then when he asked me to marry him, I was ecstatic! I thought it was going to be my fairy tale ending before I was even 25, I didn’t know--” You suddenly stopped pacing and stopped talking, the memories of that period in your life coming back to you in disturbing waves.

Rafael saw how much you were in distress telling your story. Even though he was disgusted that you were ever intimate with this lunatic, he couldn’t help but feel for you. He stood up and took your hand, leading you to the leather couch in the corner of the room. He sat you down and motioned for you to continue if you could, while still holding your hand.

“I didn’t know that he was just trying to get me to be-- ‘his’, so that he could do whatever he wanted to me,” You barely got the words out while you still burned holes into the carpet with your eyes.

“Oh God, Oh-- Y/N,” He took your other hand but didn’t force you to look up; he wanted you to tell the rest on your own time.

“After we got married he started hitting me for stupid stuff like putting the dishes in the dishwasher wrong, or folding the towels the wrong way. And then he’d--” You felt tears catch in your throat. “He’d make me have sex with him whenever he wanted,”

“Carino,” Rafael instinctively put his arms around your shoulders, pulling you closer towards him. He just wanted to comfort you, he didn’t want to think about what else that monster did to you.

“I--- I didn’t know what to do. I had just graduated, he was paying for my law school, he was paying for everything I had in my life. I felt like I was trapped, so I just-- I put up with it,” You tried not to cry, you swore a long time ago you wouldn’t waste any more tears on him. But right now you couldn’t help it.

“But then it started getting worse,” You finally raised your head to look at him. “He started beating me when he was angry over other things, sometimes within an inch of my life,”

Rafael didn’t know what to say, he knew you weren’t finished so he just kept rubbing the back of your palms with his thumb comfortingly.

“I finally knew either I had to leave, or die,” You got your tears under control as you remembered how strong you had to be back then. And ever since. “So one day when he was on one of his ‘business trips’-- which now I know were probably killings or heists or worse, I packed everything I could fit into two suitcases and I just-- I left,” You sighed.

“I didn’t have anywhere to go. My parents live in Florida, I didn’t really have friends at school, which wouldn’t have mattered anyway because without him paying for it I had to drop out. I slept on the streets for months!” You unconsciously moved closer into Rafael’s chest as you relived the horror.

“Finally I-- I did something that I never thought I would do in a million years, but I was desperate Rafael. You have to understand that,” You looked at him with a terrified look, like he was about to kick you out of his office for real after what you were about to say.

“I do,” He put a hand to your face. “Whatever you’re going to say, I understand,”

“Okay,” You nodded softly. “I...I became an escort,” You turned away from him and his soft hand on your cheek. Even though he just assured you he understood, you could feel the judgement.

“Not a hooker,” You quickly added, like that made it any better. “An escort-- for older, wealthy gentlemen callers,”

“Ah,” He nodded. “I see,”

“...I changed my name, cancelled all my credit cards and got new ones in my new name. And I started making pretty good money. Enough for a small apartment and food anyway,” You continued. “I had accepted the fact that my life was going to be just what it was at that time-- living my life out as a whore,”

“You’re not, and never were and never will be, a whore Y/N,”

“Rafael, please,” You shook your head with a sarcastic laugh. “Maybe I was a fancy whore, but still one nonetheless,”

“No you--” He didn’t want to get into female derogatory slurs with you right now, so he just let it go. “...Okay, continue,”

“So then I just-- got lucky,” You played with the buttons on his shirt once again nervously. “I shouldn’t say lucky, that’s awful to say about a person’s death,”

“...Death?”

“Yeah um,” You picked harder at the buttons. “A regular of mine, Bartholomew Ridgewood. He was a very wealthy stockbroker who had no family or friends, just-- me, apparently,” You shrugged. “He had a heart attack and died, and then his estate contacted me to let me know that he had left his entire fortune and penthouse to me,”

“Seriously?” Rafael almost laughed at the crazy notion.

“I know right?!” You suddenly exclaimed. It really sounded like something out of a soap opera. “So, I used the money to immediately enroll back in law school, and got a job with Rita, and-- here I am,” You motioned towards yourself, in a ‘ta da’ fashion.

“So, let me get this straight,” Rafael began going over detail of your story in his head. “You actually have a huge fortune, but you’re still going to law school, AND holding down a job?”

“...Yeah,” You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Why?” You half laughed. “Well for one, because I don’t ever want to have to depend on a man’s wealth to survive ever again,”

“How would that even happen? Did you blow through it that fast?”

“No!” You suddenly stood up in anger, not believing he was questioning you now. “But it still scares me that something will happen to it, and I’ll be helpless again,” You crossed your arms. “And two, I want to help people like me, without a voice. And three, a recommendation from the District Attorney to any law firm is a very highly coveted accomplishment, Rafael,”

“Right,” He nodded. “So much more coveted than a lowly DA’s recommendation,”

“Are you-- Are you serious?” You laughed in disbelief. “Wha--How, HOW did you get to that from any point in my horror story?”

“I don’t-- I don’t know, maybe if I had known you sooner I could have protected you,” He rubbed the back of his neck. Why DID he say that? Why was he suddenly jealous that you had consciously chosen to work for Rita over him? Why did that even matter at this point?

“No, you couldn’t have,” You shook your head as you sat back down next to him. “I got away from-- By the way he went by Tommy Richmond back then, if you want to add that to your case file,” You pointed to the folder on the desk.

He stood up and walked over to it, pulling papers out of the folder and examining each identity he had found so far. Tommy was on the list from a few years ago. Eric Braverman was next on the list, then Eddie Warshack and then Billy Forsythe, before William Lewis. Eric’s ID was from Connecticut, Eddie from Pennsylvania, and Billy from Ohio.

“....So this shows that once he left New York he went south, but then came back up? That doesn’t make any sense,” He flipped through the papers as thoughts ran through his brain.

“Doesn’t it though?” You stood up and walked over to the desk. “He came back for me. He’s probably looking for me. Maybe he thought I fled the state and he went looking and came back,” Your face turned paler the more you thought out loud.

“I have to get out of here,” You suddenly decided out loud. You briskly walked to the secret room and pulled your clothes out with one minute left on the dryer, but you didn’t care. You were quickly putting them on when Rafael ran in after you.

“What? No, no you don’t,” He tried to stop you from unbuttoning his shirt. “Not now that I know he’s looking for you, you’re not going anywhere,”

“Look Rafael,” You stopped undressing and looked at him very seriously. “He’s smart, and he’s fast. I’ll bet you right now that he is doing some very specific research on anyone that was in that station the day you picked him up. And that includes you,”

“And why would he waste time on that if he’s looking for you?” Rafael raised a curious eyebrow.

“Well obviously if he thinks he’s at risk of being caught I’m the furthest thing from his mind right now! And he’ll study you all like lab rats, trying to figure out your fears and weaknesses, and prey on them. That’s exactly how he manipulated me,”

“So he researched you?”

“No, I don’t think he needed to back then! I just fell into his arms, no hard work on his end required,” You scoffed at your naivete as a young girl.

“....So why do you need to leave?” He crossed his arms.

“Because he’ll figure out we’re....involved,” You gestured between the two of you.

“Involved?” He half laughed. “Y/N we haven’t even-- we haven’t done anything but talk!”

“And yet I’m standing here in your office in only my underwear and your shirt like you said, a sex fantasy!” You gestured to your still scantily clad body.

That gave Rafael an idea.

Without warning his arms were suddenly around your waist, pulling you roughly into his awaiting mouth. You were shocked at first, but soon welcomed his tongue into yours as it began exploring your mouth. His hands slowly moved up your waist through his shirt, approaching your bare breasts. Before he could reach them, you pushed him away.

“What the FUCK are you doing?!” You yelled angrily. “Do you really think now is the appropriate time to do this?”

“Well, if Lewis thinks we’re ‘fraternizing’, shouldn’t we actually ‘fraternize’?” He gave you a smirk.

“He doesn’t think anything yet! I have no idea where he is, you have no idea where he is,” You sighed in frustration.

“I do know where he is,” He traced your palms with his finger sensually. “He’s locked in the tank at the station,”

“...Really?” You were suddenly feeling much safer, and arousal quickly came along with it.

“Really,” He nodded, cupping your head in his hands by your jawline so his thumbs ran against the side of your temples. He gently massaged them, making you relax even more.

“...And you’re not just trying to have sex with me so I won’t run off on you?” You did your best to keep your wits about you, but it was growing increasingly difficult with the smell of his cologne wafting from his hands into your nose. It was intoxicating.

“Maybe I am,” He chuckled, “Or maybe, I’m just acting on things I know we’ve both felt since yesterday on that boat,”

“That’s assuming a lot, counselor,” You bit your lip as you tried desperately not to look down at his mouth while he moved his face closer.

“Is it, though?” His smirk grew more devilish as he continued to close the gap between your lips.

“I…” You tried thinking of anything but his tongue inside you, but it was a losing battle. “....Screw it,”

You grabbed his head and thrusted it against your burning lips as your tongues once again began to do a tango in between your mouths. His hands moved upwards quicker this time, and this time you let them. You jumped onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he fell against the desk to support your weight. He picked you up and carried you to the leather couch, laying you down and crawling on top of you while never removing his mouth from yours.

You were both so happy and so enthralled with each other you didn’t notice the door was cracked open, and two dark eyes peering behind it.

[myouwos]

milf nayeon working out in that adidas outfit and college student sana/mina being from the same gym...... i can't take it out of my mind

milf nayeon must really be inspiring cause i couldn’t stop writing this... thank you for the great request! also didn’t know if you meant misanayeon but that’s what i went for- with g!p mina as a bonus cause my mind said so (3.9k words) 

being one of seoul's busiest woman, nayeon has never had much time to give to the yearly subscription she took at the gym as a new year's resolution. it doesn't mean she doesn't make sure to stay in great condition, regularly asking her secretary to add a few hours of work out in her schedule, but she simply never bothers to get any professional help. 

unfortunately for her- although her doctor had insisted it was for the best- her back has been killing her recently, and not even the weekly massages she gets have helped. she had suggested changing those to daily ones, but he had simply raised an annoyed eyebrow, and told her to stick to working out regularly. 

and really, the women only gym she had decided to go to a year ago is not any bad, it's got amazing reviews and more hot trainers with straining muscles than she could dream of. but the real problem here is how truly unimportant she has always believed sport to be, the simple thought of having to cancel meetings with board members for the sole reason of having to go to the gym simply not worth it in her mind.

or at least, not at first.

the woman in charge of helping her around the place is charming, that, she will admit without a doubt. her name is momo, and although nayeon does not think she'll ever get a body like hers, that doesn't mean she can't daydream a bit about her strong arms and soft abs. it's been a while since she got any action, and she'll admit she might have reconsidered calling an ex back ever since she started coming here weekly.

but a pretty woman to help her learn how to use a treadmill and carry the weights she uses around is still not enough, and her back is still killing her from having to seat in a designer chair that's way too uncomfortable for the price it cost her. 

"you didn't come last week." momo scolds her as soon as she arrives, and nayeon simply ignores her, rolling her eyes as she hands her the leather handbag she chose to carry around today. "you know it's my place to tell you when you're in the wrong." 

"why did i agree to getting a personal trainer again?" nayeon mumbles under her breath, aware of the fact that momo can hear everything she's saying. "i'll be ready in a minute, that gives you enough time to get over my previous absence." 

nayeon knows she's probably a bit hard on momo, but maybe that's just her way to get revenge on how sore the sessions she spends here leave her for the next few days, body hurting even more than it did before she started coming here.

she usually dresses before coming, not fond of the way everyone here doesn't seem to mind sharing what they look like naked in the changing rooms, but when she saw she was going to be late, nayeon had hurried from her office to this side of town, no time left to pass by her personal office bathroom.

thankfully, the changing rooms are pretty empty by this time of the day, the sun already about to set, and she only comes face to face with two giggling girls, definitely younger than she is by a few years. 

"good evening." she says softly, walking past the bench they're standing in front of, one of the girls' shirt still hanging from her hands- not that nayeon is staring, she has made it clear she wouldn't be looking at anyone here anymore after momo caught her. 

she doesn't get a reply at first, but feels eyes following after her, burning at her back when she slips her light pink shirt off her shoulders. for someone who's not exactly fond of dressing in public- certainly because she could somehow be considered a public figure, her face often in the media- it should probably feel a lot more awkward than it actually does. 

"hi!" a cheerful voice finally cuts through the heavy silence, almost startling her from how sudden it is. "are you new around here?" 

turning to face them, nayeon raises a curious brow when she sees the blonde girl hitting her friend's side, eyes widening as if to tell her to shut up, blush on her cheeks. she must decide to ignore her, because her eyes are still on nayeon, light smile on her lips. 

"you could say that, i suppose." 

"well if you ever need someone to work out with, we'd love to help." 

there's a hint of smugness in her voice, but her eyes sparkle with sweetness, and nayeon has trouble understanding if she's being flirted on or not. 

"i'm sana, by the way. and," she motions at her friend, the girl still looking away from nayeon as red grows on her cheeks. "that's mina." 

they leave after nayeon nods, mina shyly waving at her and sana's eyes traveling down her body once again, lingering on soft breasts still clad in a discreet red bra, waving too before reluctantly following after her friend who tugs her by the arm.

"that was way over a minute." momo says pointing at her smart watch when she finally slips out of the changing rooms, now fully dressed to work out. 

"with how much i'm paying you, i think you can handle two minutes of tardiness." 

momo has her working a lot harder than she usually does on that day, but nayeon supposes that's only fair.

-----

"can you not flirt with her so openly!" mina mumbles under her breath, just loud enough for sana to hear. "it's so obvious, and we don't even know her. what if this is making her uneasy?" 

taking an earbud out of her ear, sana turns from the mirror she had been staring into to look at the woman she and mina have recently noticed to look at her best friend, rolling her eyes playfully. 

"she's been staring at us every time she comes here for the past few days, and her eyes are screaming the opposite of uneasy." sana slows the rhythm of the treadmill down, trying not to get out of breath just yet. "it's not my fault you suck at talking to pretty women, mina." 

mina stops hers entirely, catching her breath and discreetly looking back at nayeon through the mirror. blushing, she quickly looks away when dark brown eyes meet her gaze. 

"still, be a bit more subtle." she sighs, reaching for her water bottle. "i just don't want to seem disrespectful." 

sana laughs then, stopping her own treadmill. 

"then let's go and say hi." 

mina doesn't have the occasion to stop her best friend before she's tugging her toward the side of the room nayeon has been left alone in, and before she can let go of her hand, they're both standing in front of nayeon, sana's hand outstretched towards her.

"hey, it's good to see you here today. need any help with these?" 

"help?" nayeon snorts, shaking her head amusedly. "no, i'm doing fine on my own." 

"oh." sana appears unsure for a second, ignoring the way mina tugs at her shorts to try and get her to leave. "sorry then, we thought… nevermin-"

"i don't need help, but i wouldn't say no to company?" 

even sana seems surprised by her words, and judging by the way her grip loosens, mina is just as shocked.

"we'd love that."

-----

"so, are you going to pretend you're not as into her as i am." 

"sana…"

"you know i can see how hard you get every time she talks to you, right?" 

mina hits sana's shoulder playfully, thinking that's probably better than throwing the popcorn they've been sharing at her. 

"she's not even interested in me… nayeon only has eyes for you, really, you should ask her on a date and forget about me." 

the mood shifts to a less teasing one, sana wrapping an arm around mina's shoulders and bringing her closer, the couch too small for them to stay very far from each other anyway. 

"nayeon literally won't stop looking at you… you just need some more confidence, and she'd be in your arms already." 

this isn't anything they've ever seriously discussed- the growing tension between the woman they've gotten to know a bit more privately recently and the two of them. and that's certainly because that's just what it was at first, a fun bit of teasing that never went much further.

but sana knows her best friend too well, knows her interest in nayeon goes beyond having fun at the gym twice a week and forgetting about her when she leaves. she has always been the sentimental one of their duo, sana just as soft, but sometimes choosing to have fun without the mess of feelings getting involved. 

and the fact that nayeon has been showing interest to the two of them is not helping, because they might be inseparable, and perhaps even dated a few years ago only to decide not to risk their friendship, but both having their view set on the same woman is not something they'd ever considered. and it's making all of this so much… messier. 

"god, what did we get ourselves into." mina hides her face behind her hands, laughing in exasperation as she seems to share sana's thoughts.

stroking her hair gently, sana joins in on her laughter, sighing dreamily when silence takes over.

"i think… i think we should just see where it goes and… have fun. right?"

mina seems lost in her mind for an instant, images of what could very well end up happening between them flashing through her mind, and nods, getting comfortable against sana's chest.

"right. let's just see where it goes."

-----

nayeon would be lying if she said she hasn't been thinking about the two girls she recently met at the gym… pretty often. 

it didn't take much for her to understand that sana was indeed flirting with her, but she did have a few doubts about where exactly mina stood in all of this. getting the attention of one was already enough to have her leave the gym with her phone in hand and her ex-girlfriend's number ready to dial, but when mina made her interest clearer, it all got even worse.

not even staring at momo's flexing muscles could do it for her anymore, not when mina would always innocently wipe sweat from her forehead with the edge of her shirt, revealing tight abs nayeon could very well imagine grinding on, or sana would simply decide shirt weren't made to be worn and show up in a sport bra that revealed a lot more than muscles. 

it has gotten to the point where she can't even keep images of them from distracting her in meetings, getting lost in thoughts of the bulge she thinks she caught in the grey sweatpants mina often wears, nipping at the tip of a pen, imagining it to be something else entirely. 

"ms. im?" her secretary had needed to gently shake her shoulder for her to get back down to earth, and the blush that had taken over her cheeks had not gone unnoticed judging by the curious look she got from jihyo on the other side of the table.

"been seeing anyone special recently?" her best friend had cornered her the second she slipped out of the room, and the discussion they had right after is certainly why she has made a very simple decision.

"n-nayeon… hi." 

"you… you look different today." 

"oh, really?" nayeon pretends not to notice just how affected sana and mina had been by the new outfit she ordered two days ago while drinking a third glass of wine. "must be my new eyeliner." 

"right. eyeliner." 

sana is not even pretending to be looking away from her cleavage, but mina is definitely making an effort, holding a weight in front of her pants in a last attempt to hide her reaction.

"so what are the plans for today?" nayeon pretends to start stretching next to them, arms thrown over her head. 

"well…"

"momo told me i need to work on my thighs muscles- don't remember what they're called but she said that's important. so how about some squats?"

mina chokes on air next to sana, and nayeon has to turn around to hide her smirk.

it really doesn't take much for them to be hanging onto her every word, barely following their own work out plans as mina desperately tries to hide her own arousal and sana forgets to lift the weight in her hand, almost drooling.

so really, when they follow after her into the changing rooms like two eager puppies, mina not even hiding her excitement anymore, she thinks this really won't take much.

"this was exhausting." she says, slipping her jacket off. "think i'll go for a shower this time. want to join?"

and it could be a perfectly innocent question if nayeon wasn't taking them in with a hooded gaze, licking her lips with a more than inviting look shining in her eyes. 

"j-join?" mina asks, stuttering as her eyes fail to look away from newly revealed skin.

"we'll join. definitely." 

nayeon disappears toward the shower rooms, and although she can't see them, she imagines the slight panic in their eyes very well. 

"we said we'd have fun, right?" sana whispers to mina, already reaching for the hem of her shirt. 

"y-yeah. let's." 

there's supposedly nothing about this mina will regret, and this, she's sure of when they reach the common showers to see nayeon standing there, already naked, right before she steps into the stall, throwing one last heated look at them.

they're quick to follow after her, stripping of their clothes and pausing when the sight of nayeon standing under a hot stream of water greets them, and sana is the one to make the first move, walking towards her until her arms wrap around her body, nayeon's back resting against her chest.

"so… what do you want?" sana murmurs against the nape of her neck, hands settling low on her lips, making sure this is not all a big misunderstanding.

nayeon leans back against her, a hand reaching back to hold sana's head closer, and a light whimper echoes in the showers when soft lips trace the column of her neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin there. 

"you… the both of you." 

that's the signal mina had certainly been waiting for, and she emerges from behind sana to stand in front of her, hands trembling nervously when they join her friend's on her hips. nayeon must sense the nervousness coming from her, because she makes sure to make her feel involved every step of the way, lips falling onto hers within seconds.

the water stops running, sana watching with a fond smile as her best friend gets lost in the kiss, a lot softer than she had believed their first one would be like. she knows just how nervous mina gets around women- especially pretty ones, and it so happens that nayeon is really, really pretty- so seeing her lose herself in nayeon's embrace pleases her a lot more than she'd ever admit.

lips working against each other softly, mina's hands frame her face, deepening it, and she gasps in nayeon's mouth when a hand travels down her body until it wraps around the base of her shaft. 

"gonna get on your knees for her?" sana murmurs in her ear, nipping at her earlobe with a teasing chuckle, and nayeon nods eagerly, pulling away from mina's lips.

her hips roll forward, desperately waiting for nayeon to do something, anything for the flames burning in her chest to consume her whole. there's a drop of precum at the tip of her cock, rolling down her shaft until nayeon's palm smears it over the entire lenght, her lips tingling pleasantly as she imagines tasting her, feeling mina under her tongue.

having been too lost in the kiss, mina had not heard sana, and she shivers from surprise when nayeon kneels in front of her, lips latching onto her head before she even has time to process all of this.

a few days ago, she wasn't even sure nayeon was interested in her. and today, her mouth is wrapped around her cock, slowly descending down on it until it hits the back of her throat, low moan slipping past pink lips. it's quickly cut off by sana's lips softly landing on hers, an appreciative whimper echoing in her chest, and if anything, mina truly believes this to be heaven.

another rush of fluid spills down nayeon's tongue when the tip hits the back of her throat, and her hand joins her mouth, replacing her mouth in the places she knows she won't be able to reach. none of the toys she owns are as big as mina, and although it makes need throb between her thighs, aching for anyone to touch her, she's not sure she will even manage to take all of it.

"how does it feels, uh?" sana's smirk only makes mina blush. "to have her on her knees just for you?" 

"g-good…"

"good?" her laugh echoes between the walls of the shower, and she fights against the urge to call mina cute and pinch her cheeks, because she supposes her best friend would hate her for it in such a moment. "does that mean you're going to fill her mouth, uh?" 

mina nods rapidly, and sana brings a hand in nayeon's hair, gently forcing her away from the sensitive cock, already on the verge of coming. 

"not yet."

the younger of the three whines, pouting when sana helps nayeon up and pushes her against the nearest wall, cock throbbing with the need to come. 

"gotta make sure you're ready for her." sana says against nayeon's shoulder, bringing a hand to soaked folds, one of her thigh resting around her waist. inner walls clenching from desire. the moan that follows sana's fingers drawing small circles around her clit is loud enough for anyone who might be in the changing rooms to hear, and the fact that they could all get caught only hits them now. 

mina chooses that moment to join them, seeing just how needy the two women are, and right when sana sink two fingers into warm heat, walls greedily gripping onto the digits, mina decides to do the same for her, circling sana's own clit in a last attempt to bring her over the edge as well. her cock brushes against her ass, and it takes a lot from her to wait, the thought of slipping into damp folds taking over her mind. 

it barely takes a few strokes for sana's body to grow taunt between her arms, tension from the past few days coming rushing back to the surface. 

nayeon is clinging onto her hard, and if it weren't for mina holding her up, the both of them would have probably fallen down to the floor in a mess of limbs and moans. picking up her thrusts once she has gone back down from her high, she adds a third finger to the thrusts, herself perfectly aware of just how big mina is going to feel for her.

"turn around." she says once she’s slipped out of her, voice deep with desire.

nayeon is too far gone to care as sana pushes her against the wall again, but she whines when the warmth of her body leaves momentarily, soon replaced by mina, legs spreading on their own to welcome the new attention.

"you don't have much time until the gym closes… you know what to do." sana murmurs in her ear, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes with affection, watching with pleased eyes as mina pushes her shaft against nayeon's slit, not yet sinking into her but rather teasing herself one last time, in case this is the last one.

she knows it won't take long for her to come, not when nayeon's mouth did absolute wonders to her cock and the simple thought of finally being inside of her makes chills rise on her arms, and rubbing her shaft against her cunt already feels too good to be true.

"don't tease her, she's been good." sana reaches for her cock, and brings the tip to her entrance, telling mina to push forward. "can't have her begging for your dick just yet."

the second her tip breaches past her entrance, a throaty moan echoes in her chest, accompanied by nayeon's moans, sana watching from over mina's shoulder as she stays close to her body. rutting forward, the first few inches of her shaft sink into her, and nayeon reaches behind herself to hold her head, pushing against mina to get her to go further.

"am close already… please…" 

hands gripping onto her hips tightly, mina plunged into her with deep thrusts, nayeon trying to hold onto anything she can find, the wall definitely not feeling as good as a pillow would- but she supposes this won't be the end, and who knows, she might invite them over someday. 

mina feels huge, filling parts of herself she had never even felt before, and when sana's hand slips past their bodies until it lands on her clit, her thighs start shaking, knees getting weak from pleasure. 

"god, gonna fill you… c-can i?" 

all it takes for mina to finally allow herself to go over the edge is nayeon nodding eagerly, and a loud moan breaks through the showers when her hips still against her ass and she groans against her neck, sana doubling her efforts on her the hard bud between her legs and watching as nayeon follows mina in her orgasm.

a flood of warmth spills into her core, thick spurts of come slowly filling her as her walls milk her cock dry, feeling of fullness increasing as she empties inside of her. it's a whole new feeling for nayeon, and one she thinks she might have just grown addicted to, her orgasm more powerful than any of the ones she's ever had.

"wow." mina pants against her back, slowly slipping out of her, nayeon whining at the loss. her seed spills down her legs, and mina turns nayeon in her arms to kiss her again, lips lazily dancing against each other.

"yeah, that was amazing." sana kisses the two on the cheek, smiling happily at a still panting nayeon. "but… we really need to leave now."

-----

"so… do you two have a number i could call… i mean, if you don't mind, of course." 

wrapping an arm around mina's shoulder, sana is reaching for her phone before she can finish her sentence, the light of the screen illuminating soft features in the dark of the night.

"you should definitely call whenever you want to… and me, preferably, cause this one right here sucks at replying." 

mina pouts, nudging sana's hip, but she knows this is true anyway. 

and as they both watch nayeon get into her car, driver opening the door for her, sana's grip onto her phone is tight, because she knows that whatever number that's now in it is one she will be treasuring for a very long time.

[bucketslutz]

Godspeed

Summary: You've been working as Marcus Moreno's assistant for years, but during all this time you've also been hopelessly in love with him. You're unsure if he feels the same way, but as of late you've been catching him stare at you. He's said things that have seemed to have an ulterior definition and it's made you suspicious of his feelings. When a pipe bursts in your apartment, leaving your home unlivable while it's being renovated, Marcus invites you to stay with him and Missy till it's fixed. Will you fold and finally confess your feelings for him?

You can read Godspeed on AO3 here.

Warnings: 18+, smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, Marcus takes reader’s v-card, fluff, domestic-ish, AFAB reader, bisexual reader.

If Marcus was good at one thing, it was making your job a million times harder than it needed to be. He didn’t do it on purpose, he just tended to be more forgetful than you’d expected someone of his reputation to be. Whether it’d be meetings with the Heroics, grocery shopping, or even Missy’s parent teacher conferences, everything always managed to slip his mind. You suppose it is your job to keep track of all these things for him, remind him, and make sure he stays on top of all of his responsibilities. When he hired you, you were still a junior in college and his wife had passed away only a year prior. You didn’t expect that you’d be using your BA in international relations to be babysitting a grown man, but you don’t mind. He pays you substantially and he’s taught you so much over the years. You’re thankful that he even considered you for the job, the leader of the Heroics, when you’re far from interesting yourself. But he’s always been so kind and patient with you. Your first day you were fumbling over everything; you spilled coffee on his white button up, you accidentally packed Missy a peanut butter sandwich in her school lunch when she has a severe peanut allergy (luckily Marcus had glanced inside the unzipped lunchbox and swiftly threw it away), and you forgot to go grocery shopping that day. You hid inside the half bath off of the living room and cried from the stress, feeling like an absolute and complete fuck-up. Marcus knocked ever-so-gently on the door and you choked out a measly “I’m fine. Be out soon,” as a response. He didn’t buy it, obviously as he heard your sniffling from down the hall, and opened the door with a concerned look on his face. You were sitting on the floor, absolutely spent from the emotionally exhausting day. He got down with you and comforted you, talked you down from the breakdown and explained that he knew his schedule will take some time to get used to, but you’re a capable and strong individual who will catch on quickly.

“Cariña, I’m not disappointed in you. Mistakes will happen, you’ve gotta break a few eggs sometimes to make an omelette,” he told you with a wink, which caused you to snort at his very dad-ish remark; at that point, you had already forgotten about all the things you screwed up that day and was ready to start fresh tomorrow. And he was right, you caught on quickly. He’d begun saying a million times how life has seemed to have gotten easier since you entered it. You could’ve sworn there was a glint of something behind his eyes when he’d say it, maybe admiration, respect, perhaps even love. But you’d brush it off with a modest smile, trying to soften the weight of his words by saying you’re just doing what you’re being paid to do. He’d shake his head, trying his best to make you understand how much you’ve impacted his life. But you’re not used to someone insisting you deserve more respect than you give yourself, and Marcus showers you in praise every single day. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the compliments flattering, especially coming from someone like him. You’ve always found him very attractive, even before you started working for him. A lot of your friends in college would tease you about it, not finding him nearly as charismatic as Miracle Guy, but you stuck to your guns. You’d hoped that when you met him you wouldn’t be disappointed, praying that he was just as kind in person as he appeared to be on the news. But now that you know him, he’s more than kind...he’s considerate, caring, patient, and a wonderful father. You’re beyond lucky to have met someone like him. He’s changed your life for the better, and you’ll never stop being grateful for his generosity. He makes it too easy to fall in love with him; his warm smile, chocolate brown eyes, his dad jokes. You even love the parts of him that wouldn’t necessarily be that interesting to anyone else, yet they are to you; the way he eats sandwiches by nibbling all the crust off of the sides then working his way to the middle in a circular pattern, or the way he hates to make his bed because he’s “just going to get back in it at the end of the day anyways,” or how he sometimes takes a minute to get a joke in a movie or TV show and will laugh for way longer than he needs to. You’ve been hopelessly in love with him for years now, and it’s made your job uncomfortable from time to time. 

Once he started going back in the field, he’d come back to his house in immense pain every day. And for a little while, you just gave him some advil and a heating pad to leave him to his devices. But the pain and discomfort got worse, and he suggested a massage would relieve the pain. Which of course it would, and you should have no problem doing that for him. He wasn’t even necessarily asking you, he just said that a massage would feel better and he should go get one. But you still took it upon yourself to give him one anyways, perhaps as an excuse to touch him, but you care about him and you wanted him to feel better. He protested, of course, not wanting to inconvenience you, but he ultimately succumbed when you straddled his back and began rubbing his sore muscles. You did everything in your power to not seem as turned on by his groans of pleasure as you were; trying to hide the way your breath hitched when he choked out a “Yes, right there. Perfect,” between his shallow grunts. He had you in the palm of his hand, and he didn’t even know it. Your best friend has been telling you to make a move for months, but you’re too shy, and you’re not even sure if he feels the same way. He could very well want all of his assistants to stay for dinner, or movie night, or offer to let you stay in the guest bedroom when a pipe burst in your apartment leaking water all over your living room. You didn’t want to accept at first, feeling like you’d be overstepping, but Marcus insisted. He said he and Missy didn’t mind, especially considering you were way better at cooking meals than he was. You finally accepted the offer, figuring it’d also be way easier to work when you’re in closer quarters. You’d be cutting out commute time, and you wouldn’t have to get up so early to get there in time to make breakfast before Missy leaves for school. And you do love sleeping. So you accepted, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like you’ll confess your love for him while you’re staying over; so long as you stay away from the alcohol.

You knock gently on Marcus’ bedroom door and call out his name softly, coffee cup and newspaper in hand. You hear a muffled groan in response, and take that as your cue to enter. Cracking the door open, you see him laying on his stomach tangled up in his sheets with a pillow covering his head. He hated mornings.

“Marcus, it’s time to get up. You have a meeting this morning,” you coo as you enter his bedroom. He rolls over and pulls his head out from under his pillow, sporting the worst bedhead you’ve seen on him yet; you bite back a laugh.

“It’s early,” he grumbles, obviously very groggy from his slumber. You settle on the edge of the bed, offering him the cup of coffee to which he sits up and takes the mug from you eagerly.

“You didn’t see me complaining about the hour when I had to get up at 4 am and bust my ass here every morning, just so I could make breakfast for you and your daughter,” you snide playfully. You don’t resent him for that, and he knows that. He works hard and has a lot on his plate, and he knows you understand that. But it’s become almost like a running joke between the two of you that he can’t complain because “you have it harder.”

“Touché,” he says, pausing to say your name, “Touché.” He takes a few sips of his coffee and holds his hand out for the newspaper, which you then hand to him. He takes a quick sip, contentedly. “Mm, why is it whenever I make coffee it takes like dirty socks, but when you do it, it tastes like heaven. Are you hiding a fancy coffee maker here that I don’t know about?”

“Hm, don’t know. Maybe I’m magic,” you remark jovially, smiling warmly at him. His eyes lock onto yours for a moment and he returns the smile.

“Yeah, something about you sure is magic,” he says, that familiar glint of... something in his eyes. Then he gets up from under his covers and pats your leg with the newspaper as he exits his bedroom, leaving you feeling strange after that encounter. Not a bad strange, you just sensed there was an air of something hanging around him. You’ve been feeling that a lot with him for a while. He’s just said or done things that hinted at meaning more than what it was, but you’ve been trying to brush it off as you looking for something that wasn’t there. You stood up from his bed, tidying up his covers a little so they no longer looked like someone just rolled out of them. You shook your head at the sight of some of his dirty clothes scattered all over the floor and took it upon yourself to pick them up and toss them in his hamper for you to wash later this afternoon. Making your way downstairs, you can hear Marcus shuffling around in the kitchen, humming the chorus of Raspberry Beret by Prince. Another thing you loved about him, he was always humming something around the house, to Missy’s dismay, but you never got tired of it. It warmed your heart to see him so happy. While you didn’t know him before the passing of his wife, you could tell that it still brought him down sometimes when you first started working for him. He’d come home late from work, immediately go to the liquor cabinet, and lock himself in his office for the rest of the night. A year or so ago he finally went through her old things with you and got rid of a lot of stuff. He kept a lot of her belongings, mostly for Missy, but was finally ready to throw a lot of her things away. So the times when you hear him singing absentmindedly, it reminds you that he’s healing and it makes you happy to finally see that after so many years of grief. Entering the kitchen, you cross over to the island and finish plating Marcus’ and Missy’s pancakes; Marcus was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and sipping on his coffee. You set his plate in front of him and he glances up at you, smiling brightly.

“Thanks, these look great. Do these have bananas in them?” he asks excitedly.

“Yep, of course,” you reply with a grin, running your hand over his shoulder before turning back to cross over to the island. You know full well his favorite breakfast is banana pancakes, so you make them for him whenever he has to get up extra early for meetings.

“You know me too well,” he teases, spreading a glob of softened butter on the top of his pancake. You hear footsteps descending the staircase rapidly and the appearance of Missy in the kitchen shortly thereafter, dressed and ready for school.

“Hi dad!” she greets her father, then you, and settles in her chair at the kitchen table. You set her plate of pancakes in front of her along with a small plate of bacon. Marcus glances at you, then the bacon, then back at you, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Why does she get bacon and I get fruit?” he whines, through a mouthful of pancake.

“Because you’re susceptible to heartburn, Missy is not,” you tell him, smacking his hand as he reaches for one of her slices. Missy sticks her tongue out at her father, teasing him as she munches on her bacon. “Quit your whining, Moreno. Fruit is good for you.”

“Outnumbered and outwitted,” he remarks dejectedly, poking at the fruit on his plate. You roll your eyes at his dramatics and finish plating your own breakfast, with extra pieces of the assorted fruits that you especially love. You catch Marcus’ gaze lingering on you for longer than what would be considered “a passing glance.” Once you lock eyes with him, he turns his head back to his newspaper immediately pretending he wasn’t just staring at you. Okay, you can safely say now that he’s officially been acting weird. You don’t have the energy nor the time right now to address his behavior, so you opt to join him and Missy at the table and silently finish your breakfast before you have to drive Missy to school.

…

  These chores have been kicking your ass today. You were too preoccupied with the burst pipe in your apartment last week that you weren’t able to do the laundry, so now you’re gifted with two weeks worth of laundry to wash, dry, iron, fold, and put away. It’s almost the end of the work day and you just finished folding the last load. You huff as you haul the basket up the stairs and down the hall to Marcus’ bedroom. You hum absentmindedly as you put his clothes away, tuning out your surroundings as your music blasts through your earbuds. This is the only part of laundry you really like. Firstly, because it’s the easiest part, and secondly because you get to listen to your music in peace without anyone bothering you. Being in the house alone means you can scream/sing the lyrics to your favorite songs without Marcus or Missy making fun of you. Except you didn’t realize you weren’t home alone right now, because Marcus has been watching you, leaning against the threshold of his bedroom door. You stopped dead in your tracks and startled when you noticed his presence. Clutching your chest with your hand you laugh out of embarrassment.

“Marcus, what the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” you ask, frustrated that he just completely ruined your vibe.

“I like hearing you sing. I’ve got my own concert right here in the comfort of my own home,” he half teases, half remarks flirtily at you. He’s staring you up and down, as if you were a sight for sore eyes in your ripped mom jeans and bleach dyed t-shirt. Your hair was lazily thrown up into a messy bun for convenience, some strands hanging around your face to frame it. 

“Whatcha listening to?” he asks, crossing towards you.

“Um, Godspeed, by Frank Ocean. You wouldn’t know him, as his career exists post-Prince and Queen, grandpa,” you joke playfully. He shakes his head and rests his hands on his hips.

“Alright, indulge me then. I wanna listen.” Sighing, you oblige and pull your phone out of your pocket and tuck your earbuds away. You start the song over from the beginning and turn the volume all the way up as the song begins. Marcus stares off and listens intently, taking in the synthetic sounds that prelude the lyrics. Once Frank Ocean begins singing, a small smile appears on his face and he nods his head.

“I like that, reminds me of you,” he says sweetly, offering his hand out to you. You glare at it suspiciously, not really sure what he’s asking. “Dance with me.” A blush creeps up on your cheeks and you take his hand happily.

Marcus moves one of his hands to the small of your back while the other clutches yours. You bring your hand to his shoulder and begin swaying with him to the music, singing along to the lyrics softly. He’s staring deep into your eyes and trailing his hand up and down your back, leaving goosebumps wherever it goes. You’ve never felt more in love with him than in this moment. He’s content just swaying with you and staring into your soul. And this song reminds him of you. Because of what? Is this how he feels about you? There will be mountains you won’t move. Still I’ll always be there for you, how I do. He has always been there for you. He’s said he will a million times; when your dad died and your mom became estranged, he didn’t expect anything of you. All he did was text or call you ever-so-often to check in on you and make sure you were doing okay. He was one of the only people who really made you feel cared for at that time. That’s when you fell in love with him. You realized that you wouldn’t have gotten through that without his support and care. He and Missy dropped off a gift bag of all of your favorite snacks and movies one night and they spent the evening with you watching movies. Missy fell asleep on your couch and you fell asleep leaning against Marcus’ chest. It was the best you’d slept since your father’s passing. The song ends, leaving you and Marcus swaying to silence, anticipating each other’s next move. Eventually you both stop swaying, your hands move up to lace around the back of his neck and his move to cradle the small of your back. His mouth keeps parting and he inhales sharply, as if he’s about to say something, but he’ll purse his lips, second-guessing himself. You don’t know how, but you know what he wants to say. You can feel it as you look into his eyes. You can feel it when you catch him staring at you. You can feel it every time he enters a room.

“Say it, Marcus,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. You stare at him desperately, you want, no--need to hear him say it. Because you both know how he feels. He just needs to say it. He stares at you lovingly, and brings one of his shaky hands up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face. You inhale sharply at his touch, anticipating the words you’ve been wanting to hear him say for years.

“I’m in love with you,” he admits, his voice dripping in his signature rasp, saying your name as if he was blessed by the gods themselves to have the ability to say it. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, cariña. I always have been, and I always will be.”

Your heart beats out of its chest by his admission, your stomach somersaulting and your skin ablaze. I love you, Marcus. Truly, deeply, I do. Your eyes begin to well up, not from sadness, or even joy, but from relief. After years of uncertainty, wonder, even frustration, you finally know how he feels about you. How he’s always felt. It feels as though a weight’s been lifted off of your shoulders. You love him. You’ll shout it from the rooftops, if you have to. I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him. Tears begin sliding down your face as Marcus cups your cheek with the palm of his hand. You nuzzle into his touch, revelling in the way he so effortlessly cares for you.

“I love you, Marcus. I always have,” you finally confess, your voice shaky from the crying. You sniffle and let out a light laugh in relief. You finally said it, and so did he. His eyes look glassy, and he appears to be biting back tears. He smiles lovingly at you, clearing his throat to try and push down the lump that’s been forming. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, stroking your head with the pad of his thumb as he does so, and pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. He cradles the back of your head while his other hand wraps tightly around your back. Your arms hook under his, clutching his back eagerly.

“I love you too, cariña,” he whispers, his lips pressed atop your head. You close your eyes, revelling in his hold on you for a moment before you decide to pull away and look up into his eyes.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, your eyes searching his for the need you have to lock your lips with his. He doesn’t hesitate to dip his head and pinch your chin, tilting it up towards his face, and sealing his admission of love with a needy, gentle kiss. You sigh into the kiss, feeling sparks all throughout your body. He pulls you into his chest, your body now flush against his and your arms wrapping around his neck. He slides his tongue along your closed lips and you part them, welcoming his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues tangle, the both of you needily searching each other’s mouths. His hands begin roaming your body, sliding up and down your waist, toying with the hem of your top and grazing his fingers over the skin of your lower back. As if he was asking permission to slide his hands up your bare back. You nudge his arm lazily and he complies, sliding his hands up your spine leaving goosebumps in his wake. You gasp against his lips as his hands explore your back, pressing further into him as best as you can. He mumbles into the kiss, gripping your bare waist.

“Mm, Missy home?” he asks against your lips. You shake your head, of course he’d forgotten that she was staying over at a friend’s; you had to bust your ass this afternoon running errands and trying to drop her off in time.

“Friend’s house,” you tell him between kisses. He nods, tugging the fabric of your shirt up.

“Do you want me to take this off, honey?” he asks gently, his lips moving from yours to your cheek then your neck as he trails love bites up and down the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck.

“Yes, please,” you reply breathlessly. He slips your top over your head leaving you in your bra. Not wanting to be the only one shirtless, you bring your fingers up to his tie and loosen it before slipping it over his head, working impatiently on the buttons of his dress shirt. Soon you’re both shirtless, chests heaving as your lips lock together feverishly once again. He starts pushing you towards the bed till your calves meet it.

“Lay down--if-if that’s-if you’re okay with that, cariña,” Marcus says, trying his best to seem assertive, but in his heart he’s too gentle and caring to force you to do anything. You roll your eyes and spin him around, shoving him back onto the bed and climbing onto his lap. Supporting your weight by pressing your hands to his bare chest, you dip down to kiss him again. This time they were sloppy and needy, you wanted to savor every bit of him and memorize the way his lips melted into yours. The way his stubble poked your lip, the way his tongue glided across yours, the feeling of his breath against your face. His hands slide down to grip your ass, kneading it through your jeans. You grin into the kiss, enjoying his hands all over you and the way he’s possessively groping your ass.

“Take off my bra,” you command against his lips. He nods eagerly, his fingers fumbling with the straps of your bra before finally releasing the clasp at the back. You shrug off your bra and slip your arms out of the straps, the garment falling onto his bare chest. He chuckles once it plops onto him, he tosses it to the floor and smiles up at you giddily; he looks at you as if you just gave him the best thing you could have ever given him. You roll your eyes at his excitement.

“Why are you so excited? You never seen a pair of boobs before?” you tease, a blush creeping over his face as he realizes you’ve noticed the way he’s been ogling your chest.

“I just never thought you’d let me look at you like this,” he says, with a slightly somber tone. Did he really think you weren’t going to love him back? He must’ve been feeling the same way you have all these years; the yearning, the pining, and the pain of never really being sure if they loved you in return. But you were here now, on top of him in his bed without a shirt on. You grab his arms and pull him up towards you so he’s sitting up, while you remain straddling his lap. He strokes your face tenderly, taking every bit of you in. You turn your cheek into his touch and plant a chaste kiss against his palm, Marcus smiles at you in return. Your heart could not be full of any more love right now. The way he’s looking at you, touching you, kissing you...you’ve never felt this much love from anyone at once. You don’t think you’ve loved anyone like you’ve loved Marcus. Even though you haven’t really had a serious relationship since high school, a relationship that scared you away from love, but you still didn’t think that you’d let someone enter your heart again. Marcus proved to you from the beginning that he’d never hurt you, so you’ve always trusted him, which is something that you don’t like giving away so easily. Truth is, you’ve not even let a man look at you naked since you were a freshman in college; he was an asshole who took advantage of you and your body. And when you told him you weren’t ready to go all the way, as you’re still a virgin, he was fine with it...Till he decided to ghost you the next day. That made your experiences with men even more volatile. It left such a bad taste in your mouth that you never got around to actually having sex with a man. You got by in college with occasional hookups with women, but you always made sure to leave before they woke up, so as to avoid any festering feelings. Marcus got you to a point in your life where you could trust someone like him, finally. He’s treated you well, he’s loved you more than anyone ever has, he’s taken his time with you by being ever-so-patient. And he will always be your rock no matter what.

“Marcus, I want you to see the rest of me,” you whisper, holding his face in your hands. He smiles warmly at you, his coffee-colored eyes holding every ounce of your pain you’ve allowed him to hear and see. He obliges immediately, stripping you of the rest of your clothes, stroking your exposed skin with his feather-like touch. He’s gentle, loving, caressing your skin like you might crumble under his fingertips if he applies too much pressure. You straddle his clothed lap now completely naked, your slick lips gliding over the rough fabric of his jeans as his erection applies intoxicating pressure against the length of your cunt. Your lips are tangled together hungrily, but he kisses you slow and sensually as he searches your lips with his own, his tongue sliding inside your mouth.

“Let me see the rest of you too,” you whisper against his mouth, your fingers dipping down to his belt buckle as you pry it open. He nods his head and aids you in taking off his pants till he’s now clad in his black briefs. He groans as you palm his erection through his briefs, feeling his dick twitch under your touch as you glide your fingers up and down its tense length. He gasps into the kiss, sensitive and responsive to your hold on his cock. You tug on the elastic of his briefs and yank them down, Marcus adjusts so you can pull them down his legs more easily. His dick springs free, dripping with pre cum and twitching with need. Your pelvis settles firmly against his, Marcus’ cock sliding between your pussy lips and nudging your clit gently. You whimper against his lips as each thrust of his hips results in the head of his dick flicking your sensitive nub. Your clit aches for more friction, needing his fingers in your pussy and for him to stroke you. You grip his wrist and bring it between your legs, urging them into your dripping core.

“You want me to touch you, cariña?” Marcus grunts into your ear, his fingers tracing your entrance. His hot breath tickles your ear and makes your pussy clench with need.

“Marcus, my clit--please, baby,” you whimper against his neck. You thrust against his fingers, attempting to force them inside you, but he avoids your advances. He finally slides his finger up through your lips and to your clit, flicking the aching, swollen bud. You gasp, throwing your head back in pleasure as Marcus strokes you. He pulls his hand away and brings it to your mouth, prying your lips open with his finger, urging you to lubricate it. You swirl your tongue around his digit, then he pulls it out and brings it back to rubbing your clit. The pleasure builds inside of you, your breath hitching with each flick of his finger. You’re getting close to the edge, desperate for Marcus to let you cum; his lips trail up and down your neck, lazily licking and nipping at the skin there. He replaces his middle finger with his thumb and continues the pace of his strokes on your clit before sliding two fingers inside of you. The fullness causing you to mewl in his ear as you begin riding his fingers. Your climax builds as your pussy clenches around his fingers that are working in and out of you, curling with each thrust inside of you. The flicks against your swollen bud, your hips rolling into his fingers, his lips on your neck...the way Marcus is working your cunt right now is pushing you close to the edge. Your toes start curling and your pussy clenches around his fingers, causing Marcus to groan at your tightness.

“That’s right, hermosa. I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum,” he groans in his signature rasp. His hot breath sticks to your neck as the pressure inside of you builds. Shutting your eyes and moaning a slew of curses, you begin to see spots as your pelvis tingles and your cunt clenches hard around Marcus’ fingers. His fingers climb up to your scalp and he tugs your head back by your hair, pulling it away from where it was resting in the crook of his neck. You lazily part your eyes open through your climax, finding Marcus staring at you through his lustful brown eyes. His digits work you through the rest of your orgasm, relishing in the way he’s staring at you; your jaw slack, whimpering and moaning, your hands clutching his broad shoulders. 

“You’re beautiful, my love,” he breathes, stroking the stray strands of hair out of your face. You smile lazily at him, panting as you come down from your climax. His dick twitches against your thigh as he pulls his fingers from your soaked pussy. He offers them to you and you part your mouth, welcoming his cum soaked digits into your mouth; sucking the evidence of your arousal from his fingers. He watches you, your lips sealed around his fingers and your eyes dark with lust. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and lightly grazes your jaw with his saliva soaked fingertips.

“I want you to fuck me, Marcus,” you tell him hungrily, still breathless from your orgasm. He nods eagerly and grips your hips, trying to position you above his cock. You resist his grasp, and he glances up at you confused.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” he asks, his tone dripping with concern as he cradles your cheek with one of his hands.

“Nothing, I’ve just--I haven’t really...I guess I’m--,” you pause to sigh. “I’m still--technically--a virgin.” You swallow hard, unable to keep yourself from feeling embarrassed by your admission. It’s stupid to feel embarrassed, especially in front of Marcus who would never judge you for something like that. He stares at you comfortingly, not an ounce of condescension in his eyes.

“Okay, honey, let me take care of you,” he says tenderly, flipping you on your back so now he’s hovering over you. “Do you want this?” He holds you gently, wanting you as comfortable as possible and trying desperately not to pressure you into anything.

“Yes, Marcus. I want you. I trust you,” you affirm, your fingers dancing over the stubble on his cheek, desperately wanting more of him. Trust has always been hard for you. This was more than just letting him take your virginity, it was letting him into your heart completely and earnestly; it was the first time in years you’ve let someone love, touch, and look at you like this. And you wouldn’t want anyone else to be here fucking you except for Marcus. He grins at you warmly, his eyes so full of love and want.

“I love you,” Marcus says your name, planting a longing kiss on your forehead and nuzzling his cheek against your cheek. 

“I love you, too, Marcus,” you say, feeling all his love for you by simply looking into his eyes. He smiles and plants kisses along your jawline and throat, nipping at the flesh. He reaches into the drawer in his bedside table and pulls out a condom. He tears open the package and rolls it onto his cock. Marcus positions himself at your entrance, your legs wrapping around his waist in anticipation.

“You okay?” he asks nervously, he seems more anxious than you even are and it’s absolutely adorable.

“Marcus, sweetheart, I’m fine,” you giggle, your hands cradling the sides of his head. “Please, I want this. I’ve wanted this for forever. Fuck me, please.” He nods, planting kisses on your forehead, and his dick prods your slick entrance. Marcus sinks the head of his cock into you and hisses at the tightness of your pussy. You mewl as he stretches you open slowly, your arms wrapping around his neck and your bare chest pressing into his. He slowly buries his length into you, his cock twitching inside of you and he revels in the tightness of your cunt. You gasp once he’s sheathed inside of you, your pussy stretched wide open for him and only him. Your clit aches for more friction, and you desperately need him to move inside of you. 

“You good?” he groans through gritted teeth, his lips hovering above yours as your breaths mingles together.

“Marcus, baby, move please--fuck,” you gasp, gripping his shoulder tight. He doesn’t hesitate to begin pulling out slowly, and moving back inside your aching pussy. His thrusts are slow and gentle, trying to get you used to his length before he picks up the pace. He wants this to be as enjoyable for you as possible and he’s only able to do so by starting out painstakingly slow. After a few more slow, languid thrusts, he gauges a slightly quickened pace. You moan, locking his lips with yours, and sloppily kiss him as you begin to try and thrust against him, searching for a rhythm. Your hips rock with his, his thick cock gliding in and out of your pussy, but your clit still craves more friction.

“My clit--shit, Marcus,” you hiss against his lips. He dips one of his fingers between your bodies and begins flicking your clit gently and expertly as he continues to fuck you. You gasp and whimper into the kiss as he keeps flicking the sensitive bud in rhythm with his thrusts. You bring his lower lip between your teeth and tug it gently, Marcus groaning before locking your lips again.

“Fuck--cariña, you’re so tight--so good--for me, shit,” Marcus growls into the kiss, his thrusts keeping pace but becoming harder. You moan, the pressure on your clit becoming almost too much for you as his cock stretches you wide and fills you each time he thrusts all the way into you. “Wanted you--wanted--I’ve dreamt about fucking this tight little pussy, cariña.”

The way he speaks to you makes your body run hot, his words burning into your skin and making you flush. You moan your affirmations, wanting to urge him on to keep going.

“Baby, keep going--keep talking,” you choke out between gasps and moans. Marcus continues his pace on your clit and with his thrusts, not faltering even once as he groans in pleasure.

“I wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck the shit out of you. I--shit--wanted to eat your pussy out while you made breakfast; on my knees, my head between your thighs, licking your cunt like that’s what you were serving me,” he growls, dipping his head down briefly to lazily suck your nipple, switching between both breasts. “You--fuck--mija, you’re mine. You’re finally mine, I won’t lose you.” His hot breath tickles your breasts and he kisses his way back up to your lips locking them together again. His words were not possessive by any means, they were desperate, needing you to know how much it would hurt him if he were to lose someone else he loved the same way he lost his wife. The pressure he’s creating from the flicking of your clit partnered with his cock buried deep inside your pussy as it tickles your g-spot, becomes too much and before you know it you’re close. Your cunt clenches around his cock a few times, making Marcus groan into your mouth. You gasp and whimper, wanting to cum for him again; you want to come undone in front of him, show him just how much you’ve wanted to fuck him all these years. You roll your hips up into his, frantically searching for your orgasm as your thrusts begin to quicken and your pussy clenches around him once again.

“Marcus, I’m close,” you whimper into your sloppy kiss, clinging to his back and dragging your nails up and down the skin there.

“Cariña, cum for me. You look so sexy when you finish,” he whispers huskily against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip as he thrusts harder into you again, the slapping of skin echoing throughout the room. Your body tenses underneath him, white spots clouding your vision as your cunt clenches around his dick, milking him. Your body tingles and you spasm against his bare chest, digging your nails further into his back. Marcus thrusts into you, hissing when you clench around his throbbing cock, as he rides out his climax. His groans and whimpers growing louder as he reaches his orgasm, then promptly quieting down once he begins to come down. You pant, your chest rising and falling as you also come down from your own climax. Marcus slumps next to you, his twitching length still sheathed inside of you as your legs tangle together. He grabs your chin and tilts your head towards him to kiss you, slowly and featherlike, wanting to savor your taste. You lay like that for a moment, your sweaty chests rising and falling together as you both try to catch your breath.

“I’m so in love with you,” Marcus says your name, draping his arm over your stomach and squeezing your waist gently. “And I will show you just how much I love you every day, mi amor,” He plants a kiss on your shoulder. “I’ll never let you forget it.” He kisses up and down the length of your neck, his tongue darting out occasionally to taste you.

“You’re my hero,” you giggle, turning on your side to face him while his dick still remains buried inside of you. He rolls his eyes playfully, having heard hundreds of different women say that very phrase over the course of his career, but it strikes something inside of him when he hears you say it. “You saved me. I love you.” You snuggle into his chest and pepper kisses along the sweaty skin there.

“I’ll always be here, cariña. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll catch you when you fall, like how you catch me when I do. I would be so lost without you, mi corazon,” he says tenderly, planting a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around you tighter. He loosens his hold on you, and pulls his half-hardened cock out of your pussy. He disposes of the condom then pulls the sheets back over your bodies, bringing you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. Marcus plants slow, languid kisses all over your face, wanting to make you feel all the love he holds for you. Your eyes droop shut, fatigue beginning to overcome your body as you’re trapped in Marcus’ arms. But this is a place you wouldn’t want to escape, no, you feel safe here. Marcus won’t let you go, and you wouldn’t let him go either. Marcus has your heart, and there’s no one else you’d trust to keep it. He’s your hero, after all. The hero who saved you with his love.

[prose-for-hire]

What’s a soul without it’s mate?

Part one

Pairing: Willow x vamp!reader

Request: Mostly requested by myself and a kind and encouraging anon for a sequel to ‘a lie taken to the grave’

A/N: I like a reader with a bit of a backstory/personality. Mention of past Bangel. You guys seemed to like the first part, so I hope the second part is just as enjoyable 🖤💖

You had tried not to wait outside her house like some kind of monster. Like this obsessive creature of the night she had no doubt pictured you as in her mind. But not checking on her, making sure she was safe, was hard. You had tried to speak to her earlier but she was now heavily guarded by her friends at all times, especially after dark.

You had come to speak to her, not just stand around like some lovesick fool. Like the lovesick fool you were for her.

You would have to act, there was no other way. To stand even another minute without her love would be enough to suck the very soul from your body.

You looked up at her window. The light was on. Flickering. Your last ember of hope.

You nodded, resolving you had to see her. Get on your knees if you must. This love was too great. You jumped up to the balcony of her room. Easily spanning the gate and stepping onto the cold concrete under your feet. You paused, only for a moment. Eyes closing, a silent prayer. Not that anybody took heed to yours anymore.

But you were willing to try anything. For her.

“Willow? Oh, sweet Willow, please be home” You whispered, tapping on the door to her balcony.

She opened her blinds, almost instantly. As if she had sensed you there. Her face trying so desperately to be unmoving. To not give away how hard this was for her.

Your heart rose and sank in the same moment. Her face was puffy, she had been crying. Because of you.

She opened the doors to the balcony, allowing her to hear you speak.

“Please, my love? Uh, ‘hear me out’ as they say…”

“Y/n, I’ve read about you, about the people you used to, um, hang out with” Willow warned you, trying to hide the waver in her voice. The fact that she wanted to collapse back into your arms.

“I was young, and foolish. I had not yet learned of love. Of you” You insisted, “How can I prove I never meant you any harm?” You said softly. Your hand slid into hers and she began to soften, her face kind and seemingly ready to make up. You wished to hear about her college work and about the hijinks with her little human friends. She wanted to hear about your life, your history. About how you coped, spent your time.

But all too quickly she snapped her hand away. Removing those possibilities. For tonight, at least.

“Th-this isn’t fair, Y/n. With the pleading and the softness and the… you” She almost crumbled at the end but shook herself in resolve. She clambered onto the balcony to face you, her sweet nature giving you more of a chance than you deserved.

“I take it all back, Willow. I would in a single heartbeat” You rushed these words, you needed her to understand. That it was the single biggest regret in any of your lives.

“B-but you don’t do you?”

“Of course I w-”

“No. You don’t have a heartbeat” Willow said slowly, tears beginning to stream down her face as she shook her head at you. That pout that turns into a grimace when she cries almost broke you into pieces. She felt stupid, as if you had played a game.

Her reaction was physically painful. You were sure you would be ash and dust before sunrise one way or another. Whether by her words or actions.

“Dear, sweet Willow. You have my word, I did not wish to harm-”

“You can’t just do this! You- you lied! That’s big, bigger than big - it’s massive!” She exploded, using her hands as she spoke. You had always found it endearing when she got worked up, but never over something you had done to her. It made you sad, you could have wept freely.

“My love, I apologise. I am laid bare for you, can you not see? I would walk into the sunlight myself, wait for dawn to toss my ashes asunder for what I have done to you. Back to where I belong. The hell that was, that is, when you are not near...” You voice cracked with emotion, your eyes pleading with every intake of unneeded breath.

She shook her head, tears dripping down her neck. You averted your gaze though, less she thought you were thinking something you wouldn’t. Never without her permission, anyway.

She sniffed, managing to look at your face. She had fallen for you so deeply. Your soft touch. Understanding nature. The way you spoke. So lyrical. But so obviously not from this time. How had she missed this?

You took this sign. Her wanting to look at you again. This one shred of hope she had afforded since you appeared to her that her heart may thaw for you. That you may win her favour in some way.

“Y-you mean that? I mean all of that… to you?” She whispered it. She had been unsure of your intentions. Which, you understood. It was natural.

You nodded, of course. You stepped towards her, tentatively at first. But with more confidence when she did not flinch away.

You moved your cold hands to caress her cheeks. Cupping them softly. She closed her eyes at the action and it made tears begin to creep up behind your eyes. Stinging and pushing against the back of your eyeballs. It was painful, this feeling. That once this dam would break it may be over. You couldn’t mourn something that was not yet dead. This was forever, to you. You had only ever felt alive when she was around.

Even now, feeling her skin under yours. It warmed you. Gave you hope.

“I need more time, y/n” she sighed, wiping her tears on her sleeve.

“It has been a week, my love...” you said softly but she was unmoving, except for stepping reluctantly from your touch. She meant it and she could be stubborn, you adored this about her. She backed away, her eyes on you before she slipped back into her room.

Leaving you out on the balcony alone. The darkness and sorrow caressing your broken heart.

It had been months and your heart began to wither as you had spent so much time away from her. An acquaintance of yours had arrived back in Sunnydale and you had convinced him to go for a drink with you. Neither of you fit in with the other vampires and so you had bonded for decades over this.

He chose the Bronze, neither of you were welcome in any demon bar. Both of you had souls. His, cursed upon him and yours transferred after you showed goodness even when you were pure demon.

You made a correct choice, one of mercy despite you not having a soul. Which meant that a coven took pity on you, wanted to allow you to experience something closer to humanity.

It was a gift, your soul. In name, not necessarily in practice. It gave you so much guilt. You still struggled to come to terms with. But you would rather this than be who you once had been.

You and he had bumped into each other every decade or so, catching up and sometimes at odds depending where in the soul-cycle either of you were. He was probably the only person you would dare call a friend although many people did not even know that you were acquainted. Angel gave you an understanding smile as you sat beside him, sliding a drink towards him.

“How have you been?”

“You know…”

“Oh yeah” He muttered in agreement. He knew exactly how you had been. The same as him. And, this was where the conversation died. It was a comfortable silence between you both but filled with your own regrets and horrors twisting through your mind. You sat there, nursing your drinks in silence for a long while.

Angel had returned from LA and wasn’t sure if seeing Buffy would be a good idea. But he ached for her. To see her. Talk to her, even for a moment. You tried to offer some comfort, told him that if the powers wanted them to be together one day they would find a way.

He nodded, knowing that this was all you could offer. Both of you knew better than to cling to false hope after everything you had seen. And done.

“You and Willow then? When did this happen? I would’ve thought you’d learn from my mistakes” He said, knowing you needed to talk about it. You both shared a humourless laugh at his words before you tried to explain it.

“She is… everything.” You breathed, glassy eyed. 

Your voice speaking from the soul. The soul that was now in a constant despair. For what was a soul without it’s mate? 

Without her, it all felt meaningless to you. All of it.

“We found each other, in here actually. She had joked that I was ‘too cool’ for the Bronze and I took offence. I believed she was calling me cold-hearted, or worse, a vampire.” You continued.

“They speak so differently from when we lived” Angel nodded in agreement, although he had at least assimilated better than you had. You kind of missed his Irish accent, but you did not miss the demon that came with it.

“She found my grave, I had never told her that I had died. I fell for her, completely and couldn’t find a way to explain. I hate it, it’s one of the worst things I have done. Her poor, sweet, heart”

Angel didn’t mention that he had seen you killing and torturing people before, which might have been a regret worth thinking about over lying to Willow. But he understood, you had never had an attachment like this. Your love for her was pure. Probably the only part of you that had not been touched by the demon was your love for her.

So, you had clung to it. Selfishly.

As you spoke, Willow and her friends had arrived at the bar. Both you and Angel sensed it and shared a look. Your respective lost loves were walking towards the bar. Your hearts breaking over and over with every footstep it took them to get there.

You both shifted uncomfortably, noticing that their eyes were on you. Anya had announced that you were both there. Apparently, they all knew your face now. Probably because you were enemy number one.

After some drinking and some talking that you and angel pretended you couldn’t hear, Willow shakily got to her feet and walked towards you both. Her eyes the entire night had only been on you and so when she got up to the table she only just noticed who you were sat with.

“Oh, uh, hi Angel” Willow did a little wave before turning back to you, “Y/n, we should talk”

Angel nodded, muttering his good luck to you. It was so quiet that it was only detectable to you, so you nodded subtly and heard him leave. All of this happening without Willow noticing. She was taking a deep breath, trying to categorise and re-categorise her thoughts. Sort through what she wanted to say.

“What you did, it was wrong” You opened your mouth to speak but she shook her head to stop you and you instantly complied, “But I-I understand. You had so many chances where you could have hurt me or Buffy. I was kinda scared that you only wanted to be with me so that you could get to slay the slayer and-”

“Never” You breathed solemnly. You could care less for the slayer, apart from of course gratitude for her saving the world and your Willow.

“- I didn’t get why you would want me for… me” She admitted, taking your hand in hers, “I don’t wanna be apart anymore, Y/n. I miss you so much”

“You mean it!?” Your eyes danced, smile widening more than it ever had. You were overjoyed. To be cast in such favourable light. Nothing mattered unless she was with you. Loving you as you loved her.

She nodded, smiling. Both of your eyes reflected a glassy delight in the others. This felt right. You and her. Together.

You leaned in, pressing the lightest kiss to her lips. It was chaste, sincere. Not willing to pressure her into a deeper kiss less she be snatched from your side again. Her lips grazed yours and you finally felt that breath of life you had been sadly missing since she had left.

“Come home with me” She whispered as you both pulled back. Your eyes lit up, you had been fearful that she would never

But her home was yours, she had always felt this way. She didn’t want to waste anymore time. She just wanted you.

She slipped her hand back into yours and led you, weaving between the crowds. The two of you against the world. How it should be.

All was well in the world again.