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[kanmom51]

JK ain't gay - part 118 to our super professional expose

*Disclaimer: This is not for the humourless or faint at heart.

Yes my friends, it's time for another piece in our award winning (Best made up expose ever award of twenty twenty something or other) JK Ain't Gay expose.

JK is back from the military.

JK showed his sexy self up at Hobi's concert on Festa.

And now that he's back it's time to for Hobi to beware, or so say the TikTok experts:

"Watch out Hobi, JK is out to steal all your girls".

Even though, to those expert TikToker's say so, the man already has between 2 to 200 girlfriends of different ages, sizes, hair colours, nationalities, including (probably not) his blond haired girlfriend from his pre-enlistment Japan trip. Oh, wait a second, that was JM, oops.

And so, my non existent team and myself have decided that indeed it is time to post our latest episode of our series, part 123 (wink wink).

SIGH.

In this highly explosive episode we will be revealing to you the latest discovery my research team of 1 found.

I am sad to reveal that following our previous exposes, including the Hickey-gate recordings, our super secret agent was exiled to boot camp, hence our need to recruit a new source. It has taken us some time, but we have done it. And now I am bringing this to you following confirmation we have received from our secret inside plant (Goldie, the Labrador, who heard this unequivocally from the horse's mouth on visit day). I'm trusting you guys not to divulge our secret agent, yeah?

But before we reveal this huge bomb that CLEARLY proves JK is up for grabs for all you horny ass gals out there who are fantasizing about JM's chestie besties and clearly have a chance at grabbing them for yourselves, we need to present a "previously on JK ain't gay":

Episode 1

Episode 2

Episode 3

Episode 4 (maybe)

Episode 5

The Hickey-gate recordings that have never been revealed (until I revealed them):

The RB mind blowing recording revealing it all:

And now that we have gone through all the 811 previous episodes, it is time for our HUGE scoop today.

We have uncovered a never been seen before AITA ask that JK who ain't gay had sent to Reddit and will be sharing it here with your for the first time ever (again, thank you Goldie):

Dear Reddit - Am I the Asshole?

I am 27 years old musician and I have just rejected my blond haired brunette, tall but short, Korean but also Caucasian girlfriend's ultimatum to me - it's either her or my Jiminie.

Am I the asshole?

Before I get to the ultimatum I need to give you a little bit of background here.

My gf and I have been together since 2014. Or maybe not? Maybe since 2019? Wait, let me ask my fans for a sec... nope, it's since 2021... maybe? Or was it 2022? Or 2023? I guess they know better than I do. I mean, I did tell them I don't have a gf, but I probably don't know, right?

Anyway, she's never been happy with the relationship I have with my Jiminie. But I seriously don't understand what her problem is!!

So what if I look at him like he's the moon and the start combined.

That doesn't mean anything.

So what if I would rather spend all my free time with him, since forever and ever and ever and until the end of time.

That doesn't mean anything.

So what if I can spend hours filming my Jiminie, taking photos of him. He's so pretty, he's my muse. How can I not?

That doesn't mean anything.

So what if I can't stop talking about him, constantly mentioning my Jiminie hyung, even when I'm at work. It's not my fault he's such a cutie and I would rather watch him than interact with my fans.

That doesn't mean anything.

So what if I sucked on his ear in front of thousands of our fans and then gave him a loving kiss on his ear shell. You know that's just a bro thing.

That doesn't mean anything.

So what if we spent time together and I let him put his lips on my neck and have a good suck?

That doesn't mean anything.

So what if I sent him a super sexy super flirty public happy birthday clip? I ended it with "Bro".

So that most definitely doesn't mean anything.

So what if we just couldn't spend 18 months of our military service apart and chose to be the first idols EVER to enlist together.

That doesn't mean anything.

So what if I chose to spend any free time I had between my super busy schedule going on trips with Jiminie, finally, taking care of him, feeding him, feeling up his lovely waxed legs, yum.

That doesn't mean anything.

So what if the night I returned from a work trip to NY I spend with Jiminie, cooking for him, and we left on our trip together the next day.

That doesn't mean anything.

So what if my last trip before enlisting I chose to do with my Jiminie, to Japan, a very special place for the two of us (Jiminie and I, not my gf, like what was her name anyway?)

That doesn't mean anything.

So what if we slept together all cuddly (what does she even want from me? I need to be close to my Jiminie), so what if we spent our free time together, so what if we showered together, so what if I would wait for him to be ready before going to shower. So what if I took care of my Jiminie preparing special meals for him during training. So what if we made plans for our futures together.

That doesn't mean anything.

So what if when we were on leave I chose to spend my time with my Jiminie hyung.

That doesn't mean anything.

So what if when I was allowed to go on leave overseas just before we were discharged we decided to fly out to our favorite super sentimentally important destination (no, not me and her, eww.. me and my JIminie).

That doesn't mean anything.

Right?

I don't understand why she's making such a big deal out of this.

making this ultimatum.

It's her or my Jiminie?

My Jimin-ssi.

My hyung.

My cutie sexy lovely?

Like there is even a choice here.

So yeah, not that it means anything, cause you know, I ain't gay, but yeah, sorry babe, I showed here the door.

Am I the asshole?

So my friends.

You saw it first here!!

Once again we have clear proof of JK's ungayness.

He said so himself. On Reddit.

We have Goldie to back this up (that lucky bitch... literally). She heard it from JK who was talking to her bestie Bam, although the latter was understandably unwilling to back this up (we tried to get his confirmation) seeing that his previous scoop brought on his banishment.

There you have it folks.

JK ain't gay.

He's as straight an arrow as they come.

That is if that arrow is pointing in this direction:

Sorry not sorry girlies.

[ild-rllrcstr]

Your Call part 3

Lewis Hamilton X You / slow burn / 4K

part 1 / part 2 / part 4

Summary You were the bright intern at Mercedes when you first met Lewis Hamilton, where a shared spark grew alongside rising trust. But just as things started to shift, life pulled you away from F1 and Lewis. Years later, Lewis ran into you again on the paddock, both of you in complete different colours. Old flames reignite on the opposite sides of the competition, and the story picks up where it never truly ended.

Warnings Mentioning of ill family member A/N Bit longer than the usuals. A lottt of conversation in this one, and I personally love writing these conversations! Hope you enjoy it!! BTW I really appreciated the comments! keep them coming, it really motivates me a lot!

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The glow of telemetry screens flickered across the glass walls, casting lines of green and red across your face. You sat hunched over the desk, still in uniform, still wired in, but the race had been over for hours.

The rest of the team had left, but you couldn’t. Not yet. The numbers gave you something to hold onto. Something that didn’t shift beneath your feet.

You rubbed your temple with the back of your wrist, eyes glassy but dry. Grief didn’t always look like crying. Sometimes it looked like… silence.

The door clicked quietly open behind you.

You didn’t turn. You were too tired to mask anything.

“Didn’t think you were still here,” Lewis’s voice said, low.

You looked up just slightly, your voice flat. 

“These numbers…” “Don’t sleep.” He finished your phrase, one of your first conversations in Mercedes.

He stepped inside slowly, not in his usual commanding way. This was something gentler. Uncertain. He slowly sat down beside you, slightly turning the chair toward you.

“I… talked to Lando.”

You stiffened, eyes still on the screen. “Let me guess, he told you I’m not a monster.”

Lewis winced, but didn’t take the bait. “He told me you’re under pressure. That what happened out there wasn’t entirely your call.”

You let out a dry breath, almost a laugh. “Not entirely my call, no. But entirely my fault when it goes wrong.”

Silence again. You didn’t look at him, but you felt him watching you.

“You know, after I left Mercedes, I thought I’d be more sure of myself,” you said suddenly. “Like, after everything… I thought coming back would feel like closure.”

He didn’t interrupt.

“But it's just hard. And they ask for more and more, ‘make the bold call,’ ‘be decisive,’ ‘be the expert.’ And when it works, it’s their win. When it doesn’t…”

Lewis’s voice cut in quietly. “It’s your name on the report.”

You finally looked up at him.

“They like to doubt, and it’s tough when there’s no one to back you up.”

Lewis watched you, brows furrowed, he remebered how it was like when you were an intern.

“Lando said you’re taking a while off, he said it seems serious.” He hesitated.

“And Lando needs to start keeping his mouth shut.”

Lewis didn’t move, just sat there with you under the dim light room. The monitors cast a soft blue glow over your face, which you kept turned toward the data, though your eyes weren’t really reading anymore.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said softly. “But if you need to talk about it… I’m here.”

You shook your head once, sharp. “It’s nothing. Just… burnout, I guess.”

Lewis didn’t buy it, you could tell. You weren’t sure why you even tried.

“We both know you’re not like that, you loved the work and the challenge we’re having around here, or you wouldn’t have come back.”

That made you scoff. “You don’t know what kind of person I am anymore.”

He didn’t flinch. “Maybe not everything. But I know you cared. I know you still do. If you want to just gain big cash, you’ve got other places more comfortable and easier ways to it.”

Something in your chest ached, sharp and old and buried under four years of pretending you were made of steel.

You exhaled slowly, tired. “It’s been four years.”

Lewis’s head tilted, just slightly. He patiently waited for you to continue.

You paused. The words stuck in your throat, hot and unspoken. Your fingers dug into the edge of the desk. You weren’t going to cry. Not in front of him. 

“You're right. I didn’t leave Mercedes because of the job,” you said, voice barely a whisper. 

“My dad was sick. He… he got worse just after the internship ended.”

Lewis’s expression didn’t change, but his posture shifted, softer somehow, like he was trying to take the weight of your words onto himself.

“I didn’t know,” he said gently.

“I didn’t tell anyone.” Your voice cracked on the last word. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

You shrugged, but the gesture was hollow. “Because I thought if I said it out loud, it would be real. And if I stayed, I’d fail at both, this job and being there for him.”

A long silence followed. You finally looked at him.

“I missed over half a year of life just sitting in a hospital room, pretending every hour mattered more than the last. And then he was just gone... The memorial is next week.”

Lewis didn’t speak right away. He leaned gently against the desk beside you, not too close, just there.

“That’s why you' took're taking the time off, and why you briefly left before the internship ended,” he said.

You nodded, eyes fixed on a distant point, somewhere past the screen.

“Mom’s still emotionally not well. He was a big pillar in the family. I got interested in all this thanks to him. I know he'd be proud. Like this is the thing that connected us so much.” Your voice trembled a bit, remembering all the times you watched races with him, and he was thrilled that you were working at Mercedes with THE Lewis Hamilton. 

“I didn’t even know how to pick myself up, I did a bit of data analysis here and there. Nothing clicked right. Ended up throwing myself back into this. I thought if I worked hard enough and things ran fast enough, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“You know, he actually liked you a lot. The times that he asked me to send him a picture of you.” You slightly smiled at the thought of it.

“Should‘ve just asked me I would’ve love to say hi, seemed like an amazing father.”

“He was.” another silence, more at ease that now the truth was revealed.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly after a while.

“What for?”

“I didn’t mean to leave without saying goodbye. Especially to you. But I didn’t know how to explain it then. It was a lot emotionally, and I just couldn’t. I couldn’t handle the goodbye. I wasn’t ready to lose anything.”

“I wish you had,” he said. “But… I get it now.”

His voice had none of the judgment you’d been bracing for. Just something warm. Heavy with understanding. 

Lewis looked down, thumb tapping against his leg like he wanted to say something more, but couldn’t yet find the shape of it.

“I said something today I shouldn’t have,” he finally admitted. “I thought you’d changed.”

“I have,” you said. “Just not the way you think.”

He nodded. Quiet again.

“You look tired,” he said after a long pause.

You let out a short laugh. “That’s generous.” 

A few beats passed.

“I know we’re not in the same team anymore, but if you ever need… someone to talk to. Or not talk to. Just… sit and exist next to, you know where to find me, the red is probably pretty hard to miss.”

You didn’t say thank you. You just nodded, eyes a little glassier now. That was enough.

As Lewis stood up quietly to leave, he paused at the door, then turned back.

“I still remember the girl who stood her ground and corrected Darren in front of the whole team,” he said with a small smile. “She was right back then, too.”

Then he left you to your glowing screens and your quiet thoughts, but the air didn’t feel quite so suffocating anymore.

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The McLaren garage buzzed as always, tools clicking, tires stacked in columns, engineers calling out updates. But when you stepped in, it was like the noise dimmed just slightly.

You arrived directly in Singapore after your day off to spend time with your family for your father’s funeral anniversary. It has been a while, but it was still mentally hard for your mom. You really took the time to make sure she was okay. You still monitored and analysed the sim data almost in real time back home, just weren’t at the HQ physically.

Lando spotted you first. “Hey. There she is.”

You offered him a small smile. “Glad to be back.”

“We survived. Barely. But we did.” he said

You gave him a mock salute. “Noted.”

You made your way to your workstation, setting your bag down. A few glances came your way, friendly but cautious. People weren’t sure how much to ask, and that was fine by you.

Your fingers brushed against your bag’s side pocket, where a folded note still sat, one you’d found tucked into a bouquet of white and pale orange roses that arrived at your hotel room three days ago.

“Thinking of him. And of you.” No name. Just the flowers and the message.

But you knew. You knew it was him. You hadn’t said anything. But the quiet gesture stayed with you like a warm hand on your back.

Then you heard the voice, low, familiar, grounding.

“Morning.”

You turned. Lewis stood just outside the garage entry, red Ferrari jacket unzipped, hands in his blue jeans pockets. His gaze met yours, steady.

“Morning,” you replied, voice quieter than intended.

A pause.

“You good?” he asked.

You nodded. “Getting there.”

You lifted the piece of note with two fingers, showing him, and whispered to him a “Thank you.”

He nodded, smiled warmly, like nothing had changed, like it was normal again. But the way his eyes lingered just half a second longer before he left? That said everything you needed to know.

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The next morning, you were hunched over telemetry again, reviewing tire data with your headset on when Lando appeared at your side with a paper cup in his hand and a suspiciously smug expression.

He plopped it on your desk. “Delivery for the overachiever.”

You glanced at it. Your exact coffee order, strong, barely sweet, a bit sharp on the finish. Written in black marker on the cup:

Strong, not sweet. Like your calls, apparently.

Your heart skipped, just briefly.

Lando leaned in. “Don’t act surprised. I saw him hovering earlier. He thinks no one notices.”

You tried to hide your smile, failing miserably. “There’s no proof it’s him.”

“Sure,” Lando said, rolling his eyes. “And I don’t drive cars for a living.”

You lifted the cup, warming your hands around it. “Thanks for delivering.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said. “I’m just the messenger. But hey, if a random bottle of wine shows up next race, I’m still not drinking it.”

You laughed, tension easing for the first time in days.

And later, as you passed Lewis near the media pen, you didn’t say a word. Just let your eyes meet his, and lift the cup slightly as you pass.

A flicker of a smile played on his lips. Still no words. But maybe none were needed.

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The sun had dipped low behind the hills, casting long shadows over the paddock. The podium ceremony was over, the noise now fading, just a few camera crews packing up, scattered media wrapping interviews, fans starting to thin out.

You hadn’t planned to stay late, but your feet didn’t take you back to the garage. Not yet. You wandered a little too far along the edge of the hospitality area, needing the space, the silence. The chaos of race day always came with a strange comedown, and Singapore’s silence was almost haunting.

You heard the footsteps before you saw him.

Lewis.

Hair damp from the champagne, Ferrari red zipped halfway up, a medal still looped loosely around his neck. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood beside you by the low barrier, overlooking the harbour lights.

“Hell of a race,” you said, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah.” A pause. 

He turned his body slightly toward you. “That coffee yesterday... I wasn’t sure you’d accept it.”

“I didn’t. Lando did.” You smiled faintly. “Then I did.”

He chuckled. “Figured.”

You let the quiet sit again, then finally asked, “I... also got the flowers.”

His jaw tensed just slightly, but he nodded. “Didn’t want to make it harder. Just... like I said, I want to let you know that I’m here.”

You swallowed. “He would be really glad.”

“Guess we would have got along. I hated that I was upset about you leaving without saying anything this whole time.”

“I thought I needed to be alone for that.”

He nodded, slowly. “But you didn’t have to be alone.”

You blinked, the emotion hitting sharper than expected.

“Now you don’t have to be alone” he said softly. 

You nodded, lips pressed tight.

He looked at you like he had more to say. Maybe a dozen things. But all he said was, “I’m glad you’re here again, even though you are not really in the colour I would’ve preferred.”

You looked up at him, you smiled a bit. “So am I.”

And in that suspended moment, with engines quiet, Singapore circuit still in the buzz of the city, it felt like five years of distance had just taken one step closer to closing.

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Lando’s car rolled into the pit box smooth as ever, and you didn’t miss the half-second glance he shot toward the screen showing live feed of the Ferrari garage.

You barely looked up from your tablet. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything... yet,” Lando said, tugging off one glove with dramatic innocence. “But since we’re all not going to talk about it. Lewis went purple in sector one, and I swear I heard you grind your teeth.”

You gave him a flat look. “It’s called stress. You should try it sometime.”

He chuckled, swinging his legs off the side of the car. “Stress or unresolved romantic tension with your former... driver… whatever he was? Because that feels more likely.”

You arched a brow. “You want to give the strategy debrief today?”

“God, no,” he said. “But I do want you to admit that this little engineering chess match between you two is weirdly hot.”

You made a point of checking his tire temps instead of responding.

Then, you both heard Lewis’s radio hit the public feed.

"That McLaren call’s just a reaction. Let 'em chase."

Lando blinked. “Wow. Bold. Did he really just…” he looked at you, mouth twitching. “Okay, now he’s definitely trying to get under your skin.”

“He’s trying to win quali.”

“You say that like they’re different things.”

You muttered something under your breath and passed the tablet off to another engineer.

Lando had disappeared into the garage, leaving you at the pit wall, arms folded tight across your chest. You weren’t even pretending to look at data anymore.

Across the paddock, Lewis was doing interviews. The camera caught him in profile, calm, smooth, composed. You could practically hear the exact tone he’d use. Measured. Sharp when needed. Charismatic without trying. He was good at this. Always had been. On and off the track.

You turned away before your thoughts could wander somewhere they shouldn’t. Again. But you didn’t get far.

“Didn’t think I’d see you sulking trackside.”

You turned sharply at the voice. Lewis. Again. Out of the shadows of the McLaren hospitality canopy, like the universe was daring you to keep pretending.

You let out a breath. “I’m not sulking.”

He tilted his head. “You sure? You looked a little... dented after that radio call.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Did you come all the way over here to gloat?”

“No,” he said, too easily. “Maybe.”

You turned your body toward him slightly. “You really want to play games right now?”

His voice softened. “No. Not really.”

Silence pulsed again, not awkward, but tight. Like something coiled between you both, asking to be addressed and avoided all at once.

He stepped in just slightly, the crowd noise fading behind him. “I wasn’t trying to rattle you. Not really.”

“You did anyway.”

“I know.”

You looked at him then, fully. “Why are you doing this, Lewis?”

He hesitated, and in that crack of silence, the mask dropped just a little.

“Because it’s the only way I know how to keep you in front of me.”

That shut you up.

He exhaled, hands in his pockets. “I don’t know what we’re doing. But if pretending I’m just another car on track keeps me near whatever we were... I’ll keep pretending.”

Your chest tightened, the words hitting a place you thought you’d locked up tight five years ago. A beat.

You blinked slowly, grounding yourself before you slipped too far into him. “You didn’t have to try that hard, Lewis. I was already looking.”

His lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something, but just then, your comms crackled to life again. Duty calling.

You stepped back. He didn’t stop you. But his voice followed just as you turned.

“When this season is over…” he said, low, “don’t leave just yet.”

You didn’t turn around.

You just let the corner of your mouth lift. “I wasn’t planning to.”

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The bar was crowded, the kind of post-race energy that vibrated through glass and steel. McLaren engineers were already a few drinks in. Lando was somewhere near the dartboard, pretending he could play, and someone had put on a terrible remix.

You stayed at the edge of it all, sipping something cold and fizzy, still in your team colours. The noise buzzed behind your eyes, but you weren’t really in it. Not when you knew who else might be nearby.

And then, you felt it. That awareness. Like gravity shifted. You turned and there he was. Lewis. Red still clinging to him in the collar of his Ferrari team polo, eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.

No one else noticed the moment stretch. But it did. He made his way over eventually, slow, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed.

“Didn’t think I’d find you here,” he said casually, voice smooth but low. “Figured you’d vanish before midnight.”

You gave him a look. “And miss Lando trying to dance horribly like that again? Not a chance.”

He huffed a laugh, eyes softening as he glanced past you to the chaos. “Looks like your team’s celebrating hard.”

You didn’t answer that directly. Just took another sip, then nodded toward the hallway. “Too loud in here, I can't hear anything. Come on.”

The lounge was quieter, dimmer lights, fewer people, just the gentle clink of glasses and low jazz hum beneath conversation. You slid into a booth tucked in the corner. He sat across from you, for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“Lando’s protective of you,” he suddenly said, almost offhand.

You raised a brow. “He should be. I’m the reason he doesn’t pit himself into the wall.”

Lewis smirked, but there was something else in his eyes. “Still. He looks at me like I’m about to break something important.”

You looked down at your drink. “You might be.”

That made him pause. “You think I’m here to mess with you?”

You met his eyes now. Steady. “I’m not exactly sure what you’re here for, Lewis.”

He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Maybe I don’t either. I just know that I’ve been waiting five years to be across from you again, and now that I am… I don’t really want to leave.”

The words hung there between you, electric and terrifying. You swallowed.

Before you could respond, the bartender passed, dropping off a drink you didn’t order. You looked up, confused.

“From the gentleman,” the bartender nodded toward Lewis.

You stared at the glass. He smiled, a little smug. “Didn't know if you would take it from me directly.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Still works on you, though.”

“Do you miss it?” After a pause, he asked.

You glanced at him. “What?”

“Being on the same side.”

You took a slow breath, eyes on the water just beyond the edge of the dock. “I miss not having to pretend I don’t care when you race.”

He turned to face you fully. The air changed.

“I miss knowing what you’re thinking,” he said.

You swallowed. “I think about it, you know. What would’ve happened if I didn’t leave. If I just… told you.”

He stepped closer. His voice dropped. “I think about what would’ve happened if you stayed.”

Your pulse kicked up. His hand brushed your arm, just once, but deliberate. You didn’t move away.

“You drive me crazy,” he said, low. “Still do.”

You smirked, breath catching. “You’re not exactly a peacekeeper yourself.”

And then he did it, reached up, fingers brushing your jaw, barely there but enough to make your heart slam. Your eyes met. You could feel it, the kiss, the pull, the almost.

Then your phone buzzed.

Lando : 'Pls tell me you’re not out there making out with a Ferrari driver. I feel like I’m too young for that trauma. Also if you're not back in 10 I’m drinking your champagne, and maybe telling the garage you smiled at Lewis. again.'

You let out a short breath, not quite a laugh. Lewis arched a brow.

“Lando?” he asked.

You tilted the screen so he could see. “Your biggest fan.”

He chuckled softly. “Reckon he’d be more supportive.”

“He is,” you murmured. “In his own unhinged way.”

“Like I said, you don’t have to keep doing this alone,” he said, quieter. “Whatever’s weighing on you.”

You met his eyes. That same pull, that gravity, five years hadn’t dulled it.

“I know,” you said, slightly nodding.

He didn’t push. Didn’t reach for you again.

And that was the hardest part.

“Come back in when you’re ready,” he murmured. “Or I’ll come get you.”

You watched him walk away, just far enough to not feel him, but not far enough to forget.

You slipped back through the crowd like muscle memory, trying not to look toward the red in the corner of the room.

You felt it anyway. That awareness. That pull.

Lando spotted you first, lifting his drink in triumph like he’d just won another race.

“Ah, the forbidden lover returns!”

You groaned. “Lando…”

“What? You were gone for twenty minutes and came back looking like you’ve seen God or got kissed by him. Did he kiss you?” He squinted dramatically like a high school girl waiting for the gossips. “No, don’t tell me. Let me suffer in suspense.”

You rolled your eyes but stole a sip from his glass anyway, fruity and way too strong.

“You’re lucky you’re winning lately,” you muttered.

“I’m always lucky,” he said smugly. “But tonight? That’s not my doing. That look in those eyes? That’s Italian regret, darling.”

Your head whipped around before you could stop it. Lewis was across the room, in conversation, but his eyes met yours instantly. And even in a sea of people, noise, and glittering celebration, you felt it.

That connection. Still taut. Still real.

“You know he’s been watching you all night, right?” Lando said casually, taking the glass back. “You’re not exactly subtle either. The whole garage’s been placing bets.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He grinned. “Not real ones. Just pride-based. I’m losing though. I bet on you making the first move. Come on, don’t let me down.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love me.”

You rolled your eyes but stayed for a while before made your way toward the back of the room where the bar was quieter. The air was cooler. A few of the Red Bull engineers had claimed a table, but none of them stopped you. You needed a moment to breathe.

And then suddenly, he was beside you again. Lewis.

Not saying anything. Just handing you a glass.

“Didn’t think you’d come back in,” he said.

You took the glass. “Didn’t think you’d still be waiting.”

“Didn’t say I was waiting.” A beat. “But I was.”

This time, the pause between you didn’t stretch awkwardly. It held. Soft and electric.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked.

That surprised you. “You hate this music.”

He leaned in, voice low.

“I hate pretending I don’t want to be near you more.”

Your chest tightened.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said quietly.

“Then maybe it’s time we stopped thinking,” he murmured.

And this time, when your arms brushed, he didn’t pull back.

Neither did you.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡⋆⭒˚.⋆ ₊˚⊹☆ ⋆˙⟡

[sunsetmaneuver]

sick day - bradley bradshaw x fem!reader

bello minions here is something that's been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute i hope you enjoy <3 this is one of my favs i've written

i am in a creative rut rn so please send me requests if you have anything you'd wanna see written!! i'm working on a hangman request rn but i love to dip my toes into a lot of different projects at the same time (it's the raging adhd)

length: 1.6k words

warnings: sick!reader, comfort, concerned boyfriend!bradley, fem!reader, just fluff honestly, not proofread lol sorry

The room is spinning.

The room is spinning, and your head could crush through a cinderblock.

Has your nose always been this clogged? Has your skin always been this sweaty? Have your limbs always ached this bad?

"Fuck," You mutter to yourself, voice weak with congestion. You reach over to grab your phone off your nightstand as a chill racks through your body. You curl your legs up into your chest to try and preserve some warmth while your fingers work at finding Bradley's contact. Not so easy to do with shaking hands, by the way.

He answers on the third ring, right as you're about to hang up and send a text instead.

"Morning, darlin'," His voice drawls out sweetly, and you can hear his smile in his tone. This alone makes you feel a little better. You put the phone on speaker and pull the covers up to your chin, making yourself into a tight little ball.

"Hi, honey," You coo back, trying to sound as normal as possible, though the congestion in your nose probably gives it away. You didn't want to worry him at all while he was at training, but you couldn't keep this from him all day. Bradley, contrary to the tough front he tries to put up, is a worrywart. You know for a fact that if he came home and found you sick in bed, he’d throw a fit about you not telling him. "How's training--" You're cut off by your own sneeze, then another, and then another.

"Bless you. Three sneezes? Since when do you sneeze in increments of three?" Bradley teases, not bothering to stifle the laugh that escapes him. There are indistinct sounds in the background, and every so often, you can make out Hangman and Coyote laughing. He must be on lunch. You instantly feel guilty for calling.

"Since I woke up feeling like my head is a bowling ball," You sigh, shutting your eyes to try and soothe the headache brewing in your temples.

"Are you sick?" You can almost see his face as he speaks - eyebrows knit together and a deep frown.

"No, I think it's just a migraine," You lie. "I just... I wanted to call.”

Bradley, like always, sees right through your bullshit.

"Sweetheart, I love you, but you're a terrible liar," His voice is joking and gentle as he speaks, and the background chatter of the mess hall slowly begins to disappear until all you hear is a door closing. "Do you need me to come home?"

You can feel sleep trying to take over your body again. "Mmm..." You hum. "Stay at work, I'm fine."

"You sure? It's not a big--"

"Mhmm..." You don't mean to cut him off, but you know you have less than one minute before you're consumed by REM. "Stay at love you, I work."

"What?" Is the last thing you hear before being taken by the sleep demon.

**

You're sleeping very peacefully until being awoken by the sound of the bedroom door opening and heavy boots meeting hardwood. They stop at your bedside, and you're suddenly very aware of the presence crouching down next to you. You pry your eyes open, revealing Bradley, and bring your hands up to rub the sleep from them.

"How was work?" You croak out, trying to distract him from the matter at hand. He doesn't answer, just sticks his hand out to touch your forehead before retracting it quickly.

"Jesus Christ, do you know that you're burning up right now?" He shakes his head and brushes the hair from your forehead that's been slicked down with sweat.

"I'm actually quite cold, to be honest," You quip back, giving a weak smile. Bradley’s annoyed huff makes your face drop. You know he’s not upset that you're sick; he’s upset that you don’t take care of yourself when you’re like this. "Why'd you come home early? I told you to stay at work."

"Actually, you told me to stay at 'love you'. After hearing that delirious statement, I told Mav I needed to come check on you." His hand reaches back out, and he strokes your cheek with his thumb. "You don't look so good, sweetheart."

You shut your eyes and lean into his touch, sniffing every few seconds to try and clear the mucus from your nose. "I feel like shit." You finally admit.

"I'm gonna run to the store and grab some things, okay? Will you be good here by yourself?"

"Bradley, I have a cold, not the plague." Your eyes open for a moment just to glare playfully at him. He smiles at you, leans forward, and kisses your hair.

"Do you want chicken and wild rice, or chicken noodle?" Bradley mumbles against your head. You shrug under the covers.

"Surprise me."

**

Bradley returned about 20 minutes later and was very startled to see you sitting on the couch. Well, more like lying in an incredibly condensed ball with three throw blankets on your body. You couldn't even bring yourself to put anything on TV in fear it would make your headache worse.

"What are you doing out of bed?" He fires at you as soon as he walks through the door. He puts the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and makes his way into the living room, stopping in front of your place on the couch.

"I got bored," You mumble, half asleep.

"Y/n, you were asleep."

"I know. I got bored."

Bradley sighs again and returns to the kitchen, where he unpacks everything. "I got you both kinds of soup, by the way," He calls from the next room. You don't have it in you to answer, so you just let out a soft hum of acknowledgment. You fall back asleep.

**

When you wake up again, you're back in bed. There's a pile of blankets on you large enough to provide warmth to a small village, and DayQuil on the bedside table. Fuck. No.

"Bradley?" You call out hoarsely, the rough state of your voice taking you back a bit. The soft sounds of the TV in the living room halt and are replaced by footsteps. He appears within seconds, clad in sweatpants and his favorite sweatshirt, the one you bought for him the first Christmas you spent together. His hair is no longer styled; instead, it sticks up in every direction, soft brown waves now frizzy. He looks delicious.

"Everything okay, babe?" He asks from the doorway, not daring to move another step. You pout at the sight.

"I don't want to take the DayQuil, and you won't come near me." You can't even stop the way your voice comes out as a whine. You feel like a child.

"Babe, you have to take the medicine if you want to feel better," Bradley runs a hand over his face. "And if I get sick, it'll take me weeks to recover from it. I have a mission to train for." He gestures to you quickly before crossing his arms again. You huff and roll your eyes at him before fully pulling the blankets over your head, covering your face. You couldn't bear to watch him just stand there.

"Really?" He rebuttals, his tone housing a little humor in it. You can't help but grin to yourself when you hear him stifling a giggle.

"I'm mad at you now." You call out, not moving from your place. The air around you is still for a few seconds before the bed dips beside you. Pulling back the blankets, Bradley begins to attack your face with kisses as soon as he can access it.

"Are you still mad?" He mumbles against your skin, body hovering over yours. You can't control the laughter that comes pouring out of your frail body, content in nature despite the sickness that wreaks havoc on your poor immune system.

"Extremely," You wiggle your face away from him and catch your breath. "You're going to get sick if you stay by me."

Bradley thinks for a second, shrugs, and plants one last kiss on your lips, soft and tender. The feeling of him lingers even after he pulls away. Mocha brown eyes burning into yours, he softens visibly.

"I'll be fine. I'd spend the rest of my life sick in this bed if it meant I could spend it with you."

**

"Bradley. You're snoring." You grumble for the fifth time tonight, arm drawing up behind you, lazily hitting your boyfriend on the shoulder to wake him.

Your sickness came and went, right to poor Bradley, within 4 days.

After insisting that spooning tonight would help you both (him) preserve body heat, Bradley promptly fell asleep holding you from behind, lips pressed right against your ear. While usually you have no issues with this, when he's sick, he snores. Loud. Louder than usual. Louder than any human being or any living creature ever has before.

He hums, stirring slightly before tightening his grip on you. His face finds its way down to your neck, nuzzling its way in gently to rest. His snoring stops, and you, eventually, fall back asleep.

It took Bradley about 3 weeks to get over the cold you had passed to him, and he made it a point to remind you all 21 days that you owed him. You knew he didn’t really mind staying in bed on his off days with his beautiful girlfriend pressed against him, waiting on him hand and foot, so you let him tease you as much as he wanted.

Plus, he was right. That night, back pressed against his chest, was the warmest you'd been in a while.

[conclover]

Mr. Tenna x GN! Reader | Static Hearts Part 3

Previous chapter

Summary: It’s time for another one of Tenna’s entertaining shows! (keeping it short to avoid spoilers!)

Warnings: Evil sexy Tenna (is this a spoiler?). I’m really trying to take the slow burn approach, but the influence of pornification has taken its toll on me. I can’t seem to help but make these chapters feel more sexual than intended. So... 18+

Notes: I can’t decide if I want him to be completely unhinged or a sweet cutie patootie, so I think I’ll stick with this mood swinging version of him. Honestly, I think it suits him pretty well.

Word count: Almost 4K

Blending in was an impossible task. After all, you were the only one here who even remotely resembled a human. Every strange creature turned its gaze as you passed, their stares making you feel even more exposed than when you were under the gleaming lights of Tenna’s show.

“Hey,” a familiar voice called from behind. “I was supposed to be keeping an eye on you.”

You turned to see who it was and it was none other than that sunshiny man, his glow still nearly blinding as before. But this time, something was different. He seemed dimmer somehow, as if the light he carried was weighed down by sadness.

“I’m sorry. Please, don’t tell my boss…” He clasped his hands in a feeble attempt at an apology, but his eyes were elsewhere, clouded with worry. It was clear his job was the least of his concerns.

“I wasn’t planning to and don’t worry, I can handle myself just fine.”

“Ha, ha, ha!” he laughed, though it was hard to tell if it was genuine. “Maybe I should try some of that independence too! Yes, I don’t need her!”

“Are we talking about Elnina?”

His smile faltered, and in an instant, he was sobbing like a child.

“Don’t mind me,” he choked out between deep sobs. “I’m just going to cry for a little while.”

“Are you... do you need anything?” You glanced around, scratching your neck awkwardly, unsure of how to handle the situation.

“Do you?” he asked, his voice surprisingly sincere. “My boss said I should assist you.”

“Well then,” you said, quickly thinking of a way to get rid of him. “I need you to be well rested. So, I suppose that’s my first request. Go have some fun, or get some sleep. Whatever you prefer.”

“Really?” He seemed a little less sad after hearing you. “Maybe we could go somewhere? Grab a drink... talk.. maybe hug… and cry.”

“I was actually thinking about getting some fresh air,” you replied, taking a step back. “But I appreciate the offer.”

“I understand, I’m sorry... I’m just a little desperate. I’ve never really known how to be alone, and Elnina just left me and—” His voice caught and he broke down, sobbing once again.

As if it were your responsibility, you pulled him into a hug. It took a long time for him to calm down. All you could do was stand there, feeling the weight of this place grow heavier and more real with each passing moment.

Is this really a dream?

You gently patted his back, but just as you did, a cough echoed from somewhere nearby.

You half expected it to be his girlfriend (now ex) Elnina, and braced yourself for one of those dramatic telenovela moments you secretly loved. But instead, it was Tenna, and his smile seemed a bit... off.

You were surprised to see him there, out of the program, but the paper cup of water in his hand hinted he was on a break.

Tenna’s TV head darted between the two of you, that odd smile tightening at the corners of the screen. You could practically feel the jealousy radiating off him. It was ridiculous, considering the two of you hadn’t even had your first date. Still, the way he looked at you, it was as if he had caught you cheating.

You stopped patting Lanino’s back, suddenly self conscious under Tenna’s presence. Lanino noticed the change immediately. He turned, saw his boss standing there, and quickly took a step back, wiping his face with the sleeve of his blue coat.

“Boss,” Lanino said awkwardly, still avoiding looking at Tenna. “I’m afraid the weather broadcast has to be suspended. Lanina and I... we broke up.”

Tenna barely registered the words. The weather broadcast? He couldn’t care less. He could handle that himself. More screen time for him, anyway. No, what stuck in his mind was the image of you and Lanino hugging. Too close. Waaaaaaay too close.

“It’s not like people just decide break up,” Tenna said flatly, not bothering to soften his tone. “There’s always someone who starts it. Someone to blame.”

Lanino glanced at you, then back at his boss, visibly trying not to cry again. Your jaw tightened as you shot Tenna a sharp glare. Showing a little respect to his employees wouldn’t kill him.

“Maybe,” you said firmly, clearly willing to defend Lanino. “But it takes two to tango, so don’t just dump it all on one person.”

The air thickened between the three of you, charged and uncomfortable. You could see the tension in Tenna’s posture. His shoulders were rigid, fists clenched tightly behind his back like he was barely holding himself together by force alone. His form was changing, expanding steadily until he loomed over the two of you, larger and more imposing with every shaky breath that escaped his mouth.

“Ah, yes... it takes two to tango,” he echoed, his tone dry and tight with sarcasm. “But it only takes one to shred the life aspirations you built together!”

Lanino flinched, and you felt the heat of Tenna’s attention return to you, almost suffocating now. His smile stretched just a bit too wide, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you saw a pair of sharp fangs.

“Well, if one of them was forced into a life they never asked for...” you shot back, “...what exactly were you expecting?”

“It’s not their fault if they can’t keep their promises!” Tenna snapped, his antennae twitching with rage as he crushed the paper cup in one hand, water spilling between his fingers.

Somehow, the argument had veered into something deeper, more personal. The words coming out of your mouths barely matched the topic of Lanino and Elnina anymore. It felt like you were both defending yourselves against people you didn’t want to put a name on. Maybe even ghosts from your past.

“Hey,” Lanino said softly, his voice small and uncertain. He fiddled with his fingers, eyes flickering nervously between the two of you. “I think I’m just going to go apologize to Elnina.”

Before you could say anything to Lanino, he was already gone, leaving you and Tenna alone in the awkwardness of the moment.

Tenna took a slow, deliberate breath, pressing his hands together in something like a prayer. He was trying to calm himself and to his credit, it seemed to be working. His form shifted subtly, shrinking just enough to make him seem a little less monstrous.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said calmly, still refusing to meet your eyes. “I got carried away.”

The apology wasn’t especially heartfelt, but something about his softened tone and the fact that the fangs were no longer visible told you it was smart to stay on his good side, at least for now. If you wanted to escape this place, Tenna wasn’t someone you could afford to make an enemy of.

“I could say the same,” you replied, taking a cautious step closer. His form felt a lot less threatening now. “I just want to forget all of this… and enjoy our date.”

“I wish we could just go now, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and tired as he gently took your hand. You could still feel the dampness from the cup he had crushed. “But I have to finish the program.”

“I’ll wait for you then,” you said with a gentle smile, taking his hand in both of yours.

“Ah-ah!” He raised a finger, wagging it with a sly smirk. “It wasn’t such a great idea to leave you alone, was it?”

His smile faltered, the mockery fading to reveal the frustration simmering beneath his playful exterior.

“You’re coming with me.”

He tightened his grip on your hand, dragging you down the hallway with an urgency that was almost too forceful. Anger radiated off him with every step, each movement charged with barely contained agitation. Before you could find the words to calm him, you were already behind the curtains, waiting for the next part of the program.

“We’re starting in a minute. It isn’t any more difficult than what you’ve seen. So just stay calm. You can do this.” He said it all with a rush, his words lacking the enthusiasm they had when you first met.

What was the program about?

Fuck. If only you had stayed in his studio.

You flashed a smile, hoping it looked convincing, and prayed he wouldn’t ask you anything too specific. You’d have to play along, trusting you could improvise your way through whatever he had planned.

“Remember what I said at the beginning of the program?” His voice was sharp, laced with tension. “I’d like you to say it with me at the same time.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, his tone making it clear he expected you to know exactly what he meant and that you should already be prepared.

You simply nodded, trying to hide the fact that you had no idea what he was talking about.

“So, 3... 2... 1...” he counted, his smile almost too enthusiastic to be believable. “It’s TV time—”

“It’s TV time!” you blurted out quickly, forcing your voice to match his energy. 

But he wasn’t a fool. The moment the words left your mouth, his smile twisted knowingly. In this mood, he could detect lies better than any polygraph ever could.

“You haven’t watched the program, have you?” His voice faltered as he turned his back to you, a flash of disappointment crossing his face.

For a brief moment, his form seemed to shrink, as if the weight of the moment had deflated him. He looked defeated, like his favorite contestant had just let him down.

“Does no one watch TV anymore?!” he cried, the anger in his voice barely masking his pain. 

Tenna moved without a word, his footsteps almost too quiet. He opened a nearby closet and pulled out a spotless apron, the kind meant more for a show than for everyday life. Stepping behind you, he slipped it over your head with more exasperation in his movements than necessary.

Then his hands found the straps at your back. He pulled them tight into a ribbon until the fabric hugged your waist snugly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of his anger.

“Do we say it’s TV time as soon as we walk on stage, or… wait a little?” you asked, uncertain, stepping closer to Tenna, who was rummaging through the closet for another apron.

“Forget about that,” he said, turning to you with a serious look, an apron dangling from one hand. “Just try to play along.”

He quickly tied on a leather apron for himself, then glanced at you with something like disappointment before disappearing behind the curtain.

What is wrong with this man?

You’d realized, perhaps too soon, that beneath the confident stage persona was a deeply insecure man, unsettled by the mere thought of not being the center of attention. And even though you hated the thought of being anything but sincere, you knew you’d have to turn the right dials to get out of here. You had seen it earlier, how he melted under your compliments like a starved dog, desperate for affection.

So this is how things are going to be like? Fine. Fuck it. If that’s what he wants, I’ll make him beg for attention.

You entered the set a moment after Tenna, but he was already in his element, running the show like he’d been born to do nothing else.

The transformation of the set caught you off guard. Where there had once been flashing lights and a giant TV screen, there was now a cozy kitchen. Wooden shelves lined the walls, filled with jars of colorful spices and neatly stacked bowls. A soft, golden light spilled across the kitchen counter, giving everything an almost homely glow. The air even smelled faintly of cinnamon and something sweet you couldn’t quite place.

Tenna moved through the space with practiced ease, speaking to the camera like he’d never lost control for a second. With a dazzling smile and a baked pie already in hand, he glided around the kitchen like it was his stage.

“Well now, folks, I know you’ve been waiting patiently for the next step in our delightful culinary adventure,” he purred, his voice smooth and sweet like sugar. “But first, I’d like to take a moment to introduce someone very special and clearly too good looking to be kept behind the scenes..”

He turned toward you with a theatrical flair, gesturing like a magician unveiling his assistant.

“If you’ve been tuning in today, and I do hope you have...” he said, voice dropping on the last line. “You might recognize them from our quiz show earlier!”

You matched his energy with an equally grand bow, playing the part to perfection.

“Ladies and germs, give (Y/n) the kind of welcome only a live studio can deliver!” he said with a playful lilt, clearly enjoying himself.

The audience cheered like they were getting paid for it.

Tenna took your hand and guided you to center stage, positioning you behind the counter like a co-host who’d always been part of the program.

“And now,” he continued, slipping effortlessly back into his presenter voice, though his face was fixed on you, as if you were the real ingredient he was savoring. “Onto the toppings.”

Tenna smiled charmingly, as if nothing had happened or maybe he was just masking his anger with the practiced ease of a seasoned actor. With someone as unpredictable as him, it was nearly impossible to be certain.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, voice low and smooth beside your ear. “I’ll make sure you get every step just right.”

He moved behind you, closer than necessary. You could feel the heat of him at your back and the soft rustle of his apron as he leaned in, clearly ready to guide you through the process.

“Could you grab the bowl with the heavy cream, sweetheart? he murmured, his voice husky and warm.

His warm breath caressed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. The way he said it made something as simple as picking up a bowl feel suddenly intimate.

“You’re doing great, darling,” he complimented, his hand settling lightly on the small of your back, a gesture far too familiar for someone you barely knew.

His touch lingered in your skin even after he pulled back and you couldn’t help the flutter of nerves rising in your chest.

Maybe, just like Tenna, I crave this kind of attention too.

His hand reached for a mixer and passed it to you, not without accidentally letting his fingers brush against yours, though it felt just a little too intentional to be a mistake.

“And don’t forget, folks. Your heavy cream needs to be extra cold, just like your ex’s heart!” he said, turning to the camera with a practiced smile.

H̸͚̦̀́̊̕A̷̢͎͒̍A̸͎͎͒͋́͘a̶̞̜̳͌̓̿a̷͇͍̣̗̎Â̵̛͙̌̕H̸̠̑͋̏̊A̶͍̟͠H̵͓̪͊̉͒͗Ą̸͑H̴̩͙̲̩̃A̷̫̼͊̊͜A̶̰̺͖͓̽̿̓a̸̺̪͇͐͒a̴̜̹͛̾̆͠A̶͙͉͚̩͗͝À̵̤́͘A̵̟̭̜͛̇̿̏͜ḧ̷̙̩͙̯́̌̓̔á̵̖͌͘?̴͔͒̄͜͝??

“You’ll know your cream is ready once you start seeing those nice, stiff peaks!” Tenna announced, his attention focused on the camera, but off screen, behind the counter, his hands were slowly traveling down your waist.

Wasn’t he supposed to be the dinner and flowers first kind of man? Maybe it was the camera that gave him the confidence he lacked off screen, like a stage to become the man he wished he was.

You were still a little lost in the sensation, the warmth of his touch lingering, distracting you from the task at hand. It wasn’t until he gave your hip a gentle squeeze that you snapped back to reality.

“Darling, um...” he murmured, his voice still soft as his lips brushed just near your ear. “I think you forgot to turn the mixer on.”

BZZZZZZZZ (don’t worry, if there’s ever a chapter with sex toys, I promise I won’t use this sound effect)

The low hum of the mixer vibrated through your fingers, through the bowl, through you.

“Lovely, just like that,” he whispered, his hand resting gently on your waist. “You’re doing great. Don’t stop.”

His breath ghosted against your neck, his body too close behind you and the sudden nearness made your grip falter.

Maybe it was the words he’d chosen that threw off your focus just enough that your fingers slipped. The mixer wobbled in your grasp, then sputtered.

With a sudden spray, whipped cream splattered in every direction: your hands, your apron, the counter, and even a bold streak across your cheek.

“Well, dear,” Tenna purred, his grin slow and shameless, his voice just soft enough to pretend he wasn’t coming on to you. “That’s definitely one way to whip it... though I usually save that kind of energy for more intimate settings.”

Still holding your waist, he turned to the camera and adjusted his tie with a jittery motion, as if trying to mask his flustered state.

“Mike, can we even air this, or will the censors come for us? Because I am equal parts horrified and incredibly turned on.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, lips twitching. It wasn’t funny, except it absolutely was. The absurdity of it all cracked something open, and before you could stop yourself, you laughed. A genuine laugh. Loud and without control, coming from somewhere deep.

Tenna moved beside you to face you, then smiled. It was softer this time, less of the camera perfect grin and more vulnerable.

“There it is,” he said, his hand gently cupping your face in a reassuring way. “I was wondering when I’d get to hear that.”

He gently brushed a streak of cream from your cheek with a towel, clearly savoring the rare intimacy of the moment. You watched him, only to realize his screen was just as splattered, streaked with creamy smudges.

“I don’t know whether to be mortified or impressed,” you said, your eyes still on him as he carefully cleaned you off, his attention entirely focused on you.

“I think you should be impressed,” he teased, his tone almost affectionate now. “You’ve got a talent for making a mess look dangerously interesting.”

You smirked, still a little flustered by the way his words carried that unmistakable flirtation.

“Well, someone has to balance out your perfection, right?”

His voice hummed with a quiet chuckle, so real it was almost too sweet to believe.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, booping your nose with a playful grin. “But I’ll take the compliment, sweetheart.”

His hand moved to untie the ribbon at your back, slipping the dirty apron off with ease before he turned back to the camera or rather somewhere off screen. With a sharp gesture, he signaled for the filming to stop.

“Mike!” he called, his voice louder than necessary. “We need backup with this whipped cream situation!”

From the shadows, you heard a muffled, incomprehensible murmur.

“What do you mean there’s no more heavy cream?” he snapped, his hands landing firmly on his hips in mock indignation.

a̷̼͙̖͕̦̦͉̣͓̱̱̹̜̿̽͋̂̃̎̋͗͑f̷̛͔̹͓̀̈̌̓̌́̄̿̀͒̀̿͠͝d̶̛̲̗͆̀̿̏̏g̷̬͙̮̞̺̤͓͇̼͎̫̋̀̂̈́̂̐͐̅͐̍̎̈́̏̚̚ḩ̸̨̛̪̯̫̰͚̜͉̒͋͆̀́̅͌͗̓̅͒̀̉̋f̶̱̩͎̳̋͐̎̀̾̽̋͠ǧ̴̭͕̭̬͙̦͈͈̟͙̲͙̈́d̸͚̺̫̝͓̭̰̞͓̔͊̔̂͛͝f̷͕̻̩̹̩̜͙̜̯͊͒́̅͘̕̕s̸̨̺͉͕̜̙̙̮͖͇̤̫̻̈́̀̔̋͂̀͊̌̓͝ͅã̴͖̝̑̆́͐̐̃̍͑̒̒̚̚͜d̴̡͇̦̼͔̒͐k̶̙̜͇̋̃͐̈́́́̓̄̃͘ḩ̷͇̯̯̆̏̀g̶̦̀͂͑f̶̯͈͕̳̼́̅͠͝j̶̧̭̖̦̞̘̝͓͎̍̽̋̔͐̅̐̊̀̽̿͋̕h̷̡̜̦̞̯͔̟̩͕̝̟̞̭̳̊́̀̌͊̈́ͅg̸͓̾̄̋̔͗̔̕͝f̷̛͍̫͉͖̂͐̂̓̀̓d̴̨̨͖̲̹̠̬̟̩̱͉̙̹̃͒̾̃́͋è̴̩͚̱̀̑͑͆͌̐͘w̶̢̧̮͔̜͙͎̙͇͑̂͆̈́͋͆́̾́̽͆̄̔͜t̵̎̈̿͘͝͠͝��̗̝̫̠͝ͅr̵͙̤̖̀̑͠y̴̹͇͐̕h̴͕͓͊f̶̝͌̒̌̂̆̓͒̍̍̀̽̕ŵ̴̭̘͚̥͚͔͉̭̩̣̲̐̽̔͑̅͘͝ͅe̵̛͇̜̐̑͊̈́̓̐̌͑̑͛͆̔͝f̸͙̲͚͇̪̻͔͈͚̅͋̍̑̐̐͋̃͋̃͜͝g̸̨̡̫̝̙̥͍̙͈͚̫̮̖͖̐̐͝

“Okay, okay…” he sighed, clearly resigned to the fact that the pie wouldn’t be happening. “Then just play some random VHS after the commercial break.”

With that, Tenna slipped off his apron and left it on the counter, leaning against it casually.

“Look,” he said, his tone suddenly serious, though a smile curled at the corners of his lips. “If you couldn’t wait for our date, you could’ve just said so. I would’ve played the VHS before baking the pie.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to stifle the smile that tugged at your lips. “And here I thought you really cared about the program.”

Tenna leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping into a teasing whisper. “With a date with you on my mind, it’s hard to care about anything else.”

Suddenly, Tenna pulled you closer into his body, squeezing you tight in an embrace. He breathed in deeply, clearly relaxed and happy, as if the future with you was full of promise and excitement.

“You’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?” he murmured, gently nuzzling the top of your head with his pointy nose, clearly lost in the affection of the moment.

But before you could reply, Mike’s strange voice cut in from the shadows.

Tenna’s antennae, which had been resting loosely, sprang upright with a sharp jolt. He hadn’t realized Mike was still there.

“Give it a rest, Mike, and get yourself a life!” Tenna barked, his head snapping toward Mike with an furious glare.

He whirled back to you almost immediately, his expression shifting into something far more controlled, as if trying to recapture the moment.

“Where were we, my dear?” he asked, voice quiet and tender as he brushed his knuckle gently along your cheekbone. “Ah yes. The date. How could I forget?”

You smiled, a sense of relief already blooming in your chest at the thought of finally seeing what was out there and maybe enjoying it all under the glow of candlelight in the company of this strange, charismatic man.

“Um, how do I put this,” he backed away slightly, his expression turning a bit more serious. “It’s quite late in the night and I don’t think any restaurants are open.”

Tenna strolled over to the fridge, peering inside with an exaggerated level of scrutiny. He clicked his tongue, then moved to the nearby shelves, rummaging through boxes and tins like he was on a mission.

“But worry not, my dear,” he said, spinning on his heel with an armful of ingredients: packets of noodles, a few vegetables, and some spices. “I have a backup plan.”

You stepped closer, curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see,” he said cheerfully. “This will be a night to remember.”

You’d already made your culinary skills known earlier, and judging by the determined curve in his smile, he wanted to impress you. Maybe even surprise you.

“Wait for me in the movie room, sweetheart,” he added, fastening his apron with a quick tug. “I won’t take very long.”

There was an edge to his words, like he was warning you. You couldn’t quite tell.

“Where is that?” you asked, silently hoping it was far from the stage.

“It’s close, actually. Just out this door and to the right. Can’t miss it!”

He clasped his hands with enthusiasm, as if the idea of a more casual date was even more exciting to him.

You gave him a smile and nodded, but as you turned to leave, his hand suddenly closed around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Oh, and before you go,” Tenna said, his voice now lower, laced with a faint buzz of static. “I hope you don’t get lost this time...”

[random2908]

As someone who has lived alone for the past 16 years, and didn't really share food with my roommates for the 5 years prior to that--essentially I've been cooking and eating for one since I left the college dining hall system--here are some tips and tricks.

Figure out what freezes/thaws well. A good guess is to look at what kinds of foods are available as frozen meals. Soups usually freeze/thaw well. A lot of vegetables do, especially after they're cooked. Pasta, especially in tomato-based sauces (I don't think frozen mac&cheese works well unless you add a lot of chemicals). Meat and fake meat both freeze well (although tofu does not IMO). Rice freezes well. Refried beans yes, whole beans maybe. Then you can make a big batch of something, set aside a few servings for your work lunches for the next few days, and then portion out the rest into separate servings in your freezer for emergency work lunches, for days when you didn't prepare anything.

Bread can be refrigerated, if you don't mind if it's a little bit stale. It won't mold in the fridge for like three weeks at least. This way you can keep using it continuously without the annoyance of having to thaw it. As it gets more stale after a couple weeks, just use it for hot sandwiches--it'll still toast/panini/whatever just fine. (I mean, it also freezes/thaws well, and I know other single people who take good advantage of that, but I find that to be a lot of effort and a lot of freezer space.)

Eggs, the way they're processed before sale in the United States, NEVER go bad in the fridge. You do have to be careful when you buy them to inspect each egg in the carton to make sure there are no little cracks. But I've had eggs easily last six months, and in scrambled eggs or omelettes I can't tell the difference. (No idea about fried eggs where texture matters a little more.)

Unless you're eating cereal every morning, powdered milk is your friend.

Butter only goes bad due to light exposure. If you buy a cheap four-pack of butter and put it in the fridge, it should still be fine in six months. But if you open one of the butter sticks, you'll want to store it in a dark place (a butter crock, for example--no fridge even needed assuming your house isn't hot enough to melt it--but for a couple weeks it should be fine anywhere it doesn't get direct sunlight, since artificial light has less UV and so doesn't spoil it as fast).

Frozen veggies! Often higher quality than fresh veggies.

Yeah, you cannot buy a whole head of lettuce, and there are a lot of other fresh veggies you can't buy, either. I'm not sure why OP's salad bags are going off so fast, though, mine are usually good for about three days after opening, and then slowly wilt over the next two, for about five usable days total. I can almost always go through a salad bag in about 3-5 days, but that's partly because I eat a LOT of salad because bulk raw greens help with my reflux. (A salad bag is about 3-5 portions of little side-salads for me, but I also sometimes eat more than one little side-salad in a day, because I have certain foods that I need to pair with salad, like anything with tomato sauce.) However salad bags are good for something like two weeks before opening, so you can PLAN when to open them to coincide with when you're going to be able to go through them.

Yams/sweet potatoes should last about 3-4 weeks in the fridge. Potatoes should last several months, possibly even outside of the fridge; same for onions. If you buy a bag of sweet potatoes you do not need to eat them all at once. (That said, I've never seen them not sold individually? So I don't know where OP is.)

Since even a single sweet potato is a LOT of food--I can eat maybe 1/3 of a sweet potato at a time--even when I buy them individually, I will sometimes dice them up and then freeze them, or sometimes dice and fry and freeze, if I don't have a meal plan that needs a whole sweet potato. It's a little annoying because they secrete water and then turn into a solid block of ice in the freezer, but you can always microwave, break off the parts you want, and then refreeze, or portion them out before freezing. They're very forgiving when you cook them (in fact, root vegetables in general are very forgiving in this way), you won't be able to tell the difference in taste/texture. I wouldn't freeze them whole, though--they're tough enough to cut even unfrozen (much tougher than potatoes).

Pre-shredded cheese, if you cook with that stuff (I do), freezes well. I've always assumed block cheese doesn't, but I'll ask my mom, since I'm sure she would have tried it.

Unfortunately, canned food is almost never the right size. There may be some things (soup?) where you'd eat the whole can at once. Or some things where you'd eat half the can now and half the can tomorrow. But mostly cans just aren't going to be useful.

It's really hard to do a main and a side, and have them both be freezable or portionable for the week. So I try to make sure my mains have enough variety within them to cover all my nutritional bases. Or my side is just a side salad (like I said, I eat a lot of side salads).

Note that some of these suggestions require about half a week to a week of advanced meal planning. Basically, as many meals as people the food would have originally been meant for. But this isn't a bad thing! Because all those extra meals go toward your work lunches for the week. And then any meal that can't be batched and must be made individually can be your dinners on days you're eating those pre-made work lunches.

Here's an example:

Two weeks ago I cooked one of those 1 lb bags of dried black beans. I'm from SoCal and like my beans refried, so I mashed the beans with some oil, onions, chili powder, and salt. Then I pan-fried up a diced sweet potato, and grilled one onion and a variety of like three different types of chilis/sweet peppers that I'd picked up from the store (one of each type of pepper, except one type was small so I got two peppers).

Portioning: for dinner that night, I had a portion of beans, topped with a bit of shredded cheese, and about 1/3 of the onion-pepper mix, 1/4 of the sweet potato, and some (medium) hot sauce that I keep in the fridge (hot sauces are mostly very acidic and will last forever in the fridge), plus some tortilla chips. Then I portioned out two more identical portions, and a third portion without the onion-pepper mix (because I ran out) and just sweet potatoes into my lunch containers. I put the remaining black beans (about half) into a plastic quart container and put it in the freezer. That was Mon-Wed work lunches covered, and I filled a little baggie with tortilla chips each morning to bring with me to eat with my lunch.

Total food used: 1 bag of dried beans, 1/2 bag of shredded cheese (you can be more generous with the cheese though), 2 onions, 1 sweet potato, 4 chili peppers of varying sizes.

Left over uneaten: 1/2 of the cooked beans, the other 1/2 bag of shredded cheese, BOTH can be frozen. I also could have chosen to only cook half of the dry beans, since dry beans are shelf-stable. I guess technically the rest of the bag of onions was left over; I buy the bags that have about 6-8 onions, but like I said, those last for months in the fridge.

For Mon-Wed that week I don't remember what I ate for dinner--I think maybe ravioli one night? which also makes good leftovers for work lunches, and maybe tofu and broccoli on instant ramen another night--but I ate different things each night. So even though I ate the same thing for lunch each day, I was still getting a lot of variety at dinner. And the lunch--although the same each day--had a reasonably complex flavor profile, so I didn't get bored.

Not to deviate too much from my usual content but fuck supermarkets for not catering to people living alone in terms of food amounts.

I create more food waste living alone than I did when I was with my ex and living together. And I hate creating food waste.

If I want to eat pumpkin, the least amount of pumpkin I can purchase is half of one of those small ones. And I'm forced to either eat pumpkin for 6 days straight or throw at least 1/4 but at most 1/2 of it out. I don't even like pumpkin that much to eat it for 6 days straight. I love yams but why the fuck it is taking me over a week to eat a bag of them and they only sell bags of them!!!!

Why the fuck can I only purchase prepackaged mushrooms in a pack of 10. And they're big mushrooms too. I can't eat 10 big mushrooms before they go all slimy and gross.

I'm not the biggest meat eater and do eat some of my meals without meat, and I do enjoy some fake meat replacements, but why the fuck is my choice between a 12 bag of chicken patties or a 4 pack of vegan chicken patties. And the vegan ones are more expensive!!!! The vegan ones did turn out to be more delicious than the real meat ones but fuck man, I wish my decision on if I consume meat for a specific meal was driven by if I feel like meat or not that night, not because i literally cannot eat 12 chicken patties in a reasonable time frame.

And why the fuck is my choice of Lettuce either a whole head which will take a week before going off, or a small pre-packaged bag of shredded Lettuce which goes off an hour after it's opened. I can't consume a whole head of Lettuce so I opted for the shredded stuff, and it was still more Lettuce than i needed. I eat the same meal two nights in a row to try to cut down on food waste and I went to make chicken burgers for the second night tonight, and the bag of shredded Lettuce was already half brown. Even if I wanted to finish this small bag of shredded Lettuce, I can't! I have to throw it out because it won't even be salvageable tomorrow.

Burger buns too! They only sell them in 8 packs. I cannot consume 8 buns before they go moldy, I'm just one person. Thankfully a friend who lives nearby took the rest to eat so they're not going to waste.

The only items which aren't creating food waste from my chicken burgers besides condiments is the patties and tomato. The patties I am eating at lunch on rice, the tomato i only bought one of as I thankfully can purchase only one. I had Cucumber on my burgers too, but I'm likely going to have to throw that out too, and I only put it on my burgers because I bought it for another meal and I had some left over.

Anyways I'm just tired of food waste

[ohtobelovedbyme]

"What do you think of me?" | yjh [ch3]

Pairing: YJH x Reader

Genre: best friend’s brother to lovers (or something), FLUFF, romcom, office setting, yjh and his sister are nepo babies

Summary (this chapter basically goes like this): you: just trying to survive internship hell jeonghan: what if i grabbed ur wrist and whispered in ur ear while drunk also jeonghan: accidentally falls on you and passes out while BTS plays in the background also also jeonghan: “what do you think of me?” update: he stole the can you drank on and now you think he’s wearing your same, exact perfume. chat, is this normal behavior?

A/N: FINALLY DONE WITH THIS CHAPTER AHHH. I was planning on publishing this and ch4, but I figured you guys would want to read this first cause it's been 3 days (?) now 😭😭

Teaser | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 3

By 3:17 PM, you had already run out of your post-its, remaining patience, and reasons to live. Since last week, your seniors have been dumping all their work onto the interns. Your group chat, named “Corporate Work Trauma,” had more than 99 unread messages, either from interns begging the other to help them complete their work or wishing that your seniors would magically get fired and be replaced by more responsible people.

Just as you were about to complete your final assignment for today, you hear the sound of that stupid humming again.

“Intern! I’ll be needing your help with some of the materials for tomorrow.” Manager Kang, from a completely different department, walked over with urgent footsteps and dropped a stack of documents on your desk.

You just stared at it blankly. Manager Kang then cleared his throat, as if to say, “Oh, don’t worry. That will only take you 5 minutes.”

“Just flag me what’s urgent on e-mail, and I’ll get to it as soon as possible,” you looked up with the smiliest and politest face you’ve ever worn, but anyone who knew you would know that you were on the verge of either killing Manager Kang or breaking down.

“Great attitude,” he said, walking away.

“What an ass,” you muttered under your breath. You couldn’t hold it in, but you didn’t want to get fired either.

It was petty, yeah, but so was this day. And the day before that. And the day before yesterday.

From his office, Jeonghan looked up from his monitor. He looked around the room, and all the lights were turned off except for the intern area. 

This usually happens every time the company hires new interns. A “rite of passage,” they called it. A hazing, he’d say. Usually, those seniors would get a serious talking to by the rest of the management, but this was just for formality since, well, those same people also do the same thing.

Jeonghan scrunched his nose just at the thought of how many interns quit last year. He did try to help them, albeit only those in his department. He only heard about those assholes from those adjacent departments that dumped tasks onto his interns and made them do their work when two of them quit. From then on, he banned other departments from casually coming in and out of his department. But I guess this happened again, since the interns right now have been staying late in the office for three days straight.

He finally stood up and went out of his office to tell the interns to go home for the night and to report to him about who was making them work and what they were assigned to do.

“Hey.” 

You blinked up from your monitor, staring. Joenghan’s voice was low and effortless, like it was just another thought passing through the room.

The rest of the interns did the same and asked him if there was anything he needed. He asked them to leave for the night and to report to him tomorrow

The rest of the interns looked up like they’d just been told the war was over.

“Oh my god. Finally,” one of them breathed out, already half-standing.

“Bro, I’m gonna write a 10-page essay about the hell these people put me through,” another muttered, cracking their knuckles with a vengeance.

“Team Leader Yoon, you’re the realest one here,” someone said, patting their bag and walking out like it was the end of a prison sentence.

One of them turned back to you. “You coming?”

You glanced at your monitor, finger still hovering over the trackpad. “Yeah. Just have to finish this last page,” you said with a small smile.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Won’t take long.”

With a round of exhausted goodbyes and a collective sigh that echoed through the empty office, the rest of them finally filtered out.

When the last of the other interns finally leaves the office, you look up at your monitor. It was just one last page, and you were done. Might as well finish this and not let your hard work go down the drain before the bloody battle that breaks out tomorrow. 

“You free for a second?” Jeonghan, who, unbeknownst to you, has been staring at you since he dismissed you.

“Hmm? Me?” you asked, surprised. That was a dumb way to respond, since you were the only one there (other than him). But, you know, you’re tired, he’s tired. There’s something abysmal, yet normal, about your reaction.

“No, the ficus. Yes, you. You’re the only one here.”

You got up, slowly, wary. “Okay…”

Jeonghan walks to his office, and you follow him. Right now, you’re not sure about what’s happening. He just dismissed you a while ago, right? You didn’t just dream that, right?

He opened his office door for you, and you stepped in. You’re hit with the scent again, but this time, it's more subtle. 

It was late in the evening, and you’re too tired. The ambience of it all was so relaxing, you’re sure you would sleep here right now, if it weren’t for the subconscious part of your body telling you to sleep in your own bed. 

“Sit,” Jeonghan said, his eyes pointing towards the couch.

You, oddly enough, half-expected a lecture on HR violations or intern responsibilities. More work. Maybe a mild scolding delivered in that stupidly smooth voice of his.

As you went to plop on the couch, he opened the drawer under his desk. From your view, you could see the shine of aluminium. A canned herbal tea and a familiar chocolate almond bar. Weird combo? Sure. But it was your go-to back in college, herbal tea and almond chocolate during all-nighters.

Jeonghan walked over to you, his shadow looming over your body. He held them out like a peace offering.

You just looked at what’s in his hands. “You... called me in for this?”

As you were about to take them, he pulled back his hand and opened the can first before placing both products on the glass coffee table in front of you. You roll your eyes.

He sat on the couch opposite you and leaned back, his hands going behind the back of his head. Casual. Composed. Eyes on you like he was studying your expression for microreactions. At first, you were hesitant. Your eyebrows furrowed, making that expression you had every time you’re curious about something. He knows what you were thinking about. How did he know about what you wanted, and why did he have them ready at his office? But then, you finally start drinking the tea. 

Your eyes, already half-lidded, began to soften further. Before taking another sip, you went ahead to dig into the chocolate bar. Oh, the mood right now was too cozy. The lavender atmosphere, the soft wool couch swallowing you whole, and you finally having your first meal in almost seven hours, no less, from the man in front of you. God, you just wanted to stay there forever.

“You looked like you were ready to go to the morgue,” he said. “Figured you’d need something to swallow before you head home.”

You chewed slowly, staring at him as your brain finally caught up with what was happening. “Woahhh... Team Leader Yoon Jeonghan,” you drawled, voice thick with playful suspicion. “How did you know I was craving this exact combo? Have you been stalking me?”

Jeonghan quirked a brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he said lazily. “If I were stalking you, I’d probably know you secretly take screenshots of food from that mukbang channel at midnight.”

You choked slightly on your tea, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“‘Saved Posts,” he said, smug. “Public account. Rookie mistake, seriously. Who taught you internet safety?”

You gasped, half-laughing, half-mortified. “You actually went through my saved posts?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t have to. Your notifications were on during that one meeting, and your screen lit up with your username. Curiosity got the better of me.”

You paused, your hand still gripping the chocolate bar. Your cheeks flushed, just slightly, the faintest pink blooming as his words sank in.

You clutched your forehead dramatically. “Unbelievable. I’m never showing my phone in public again.”

Jeonghan leaned forward then, elbows on his knees, gaze steady. “You interns have been running yourselves into the ground lately. Figured someone should give a damn.”

You looked at him, and for a second, you couldn’t say anything. The teasing was there, sure, but underneath it was... sincere.

You rolled your eyes, if only to hide how warm you felt. “You could’ve just sent an email like a normal person.”

He scoffed. “And miss the chance to see your tragic little face in person?”

“Wow. Thanks,” you said flatly, trying not to smile.

Jeonghan waited a full five seconds before glancing back at the door. Then, slowly, he sat back into his chair.

His gaze dropped to the half-crushed can on the table, the one you'd sipped from earlier. Faint, but still visible: a perfect smudge of maroon left on the aluminium rim. It wasn’t just a mark. It was the same shade you'd been wearing all night. The same shade you’d been wearing since you started working here. Rich. Creamy. Almost too bold for you.

His fingers reached for it. Brushed the edge.

The pigment clung to his skin. He turned his hand over, staring at the stain against the pad of his index finger. A color too soft to be dangerous, but too dark to be innocent.

He lifted his fingers to his mouth.

A pause.

Then, he touched his lips to them.

The warmth wasn’t the same. But it mimicked what could’ve been yours.

He exhaled through his nose, a quiet, bitter laugh.

He didn’t even like herbal tea and almond chocolate.

The hum of the vending machine was the only sound filling the small break room. You sat slouched on the bench, head resting against the cold wall, eyes closed. The coffee in your hands had gone lukewarm. Your shoes were kicked off, legs tucked beneath you like you were claiming this sad little corner as your territory.

Today, you finally finished all the projects you were assigned. Your fellow interns finally stopped cursing and hexing your seniors, and you finally have time to relax. Moreover, those same seniors got chewed out by Team Leader Yoon. “My final warning,” you remember how his voice was calm and calculating, making everything he said sound like a death threat instead of a “I’ll-send-you-to-HR” threat.

“You look like you got hit by a truck,” a familiar voice piped up.

You cracked one eye open to find your best friend, Jeonghan’s younger sister, leaning against the doorframe, sipping from her iced latte like she hadn’t just insulted you.

“Truck, bus, and a management-level bullet train,” you deadpanned, sighing dramatically as you took another sip of your coffee. “The seniors? Demonic. One of them made me sort three years of archived campaign decks. My soul left my body halfway through 2023.”

She winced. “Okay, yeah. That’s cruel and unusual. Even I don’t like those archives, and I barely do anything.”

You snorted.

She sauntered over and sat beside you, nudging your shoulder. “You’ve been looking real burnt-out lately. You okay?”

You shrugged. “It’s fine. Just new intern stuff. Paying my dues. Blood, sweat, tears, and barely-scheduled bathroom breaks. Besides, your lovely brother finally saved us.”

“Ew, don’t call him that.” She grimaced. “You need a break. Like, real one.”

You looked at her suspiciously. “Why do you sound like you’re about to propose something... stupid? Insane? What’s the right word….”

She smirked. “Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all… maybe I am.”

You squinted. “Don’t say team-building workshop. I’ll cry.”

“Worse.” Her grin widened. “Karaoke. Tonight.”

You groaned. “Nooo. My legs feel like overcooked noodles. I can’t stand, let alone scream-sing IU.”

“But it’s to celebrate! You finally survived intern hell. That deserves a round of somaek.”

You blinked. “Can’t we just do that without involving the whole department?”

“Nope. Everyone’s coming--well, everyone that matters. Especially you interns. And…” She paused for a beat, her voice dropping just slightly into a mischievous tone. “Oppa might come too.”

“No, he won’t. No one will. Why? Because this won’t happen.”

“Come on~” She flipped her hair dramatically. “I might go tell him it’s a little celebratory thing.”

You stared at her. “You do know that he’s busy, right?” 

She beamed. “Yeah, but he would make time. Maybe. As long as you’re there. Looking cute. And tired. And vulnerable.”

You almost choked on your coffee. “You’re evil.”

She beamed. “You love me.”

Jeonghan didn’t look up from his laptop when the door opened. “If this is about the budget sheet, tell them to stop using Comic Sans–”

“It’s not,” his sister sang-songed, plopping onto the guest chair across from his desk. “It’s about plans.”

“Sounds exhausting already.”

She leaned in, elbows on his desk. “Did you know we’re doing karaoke tonight?”

He raised a brow. “No.”

“Well, we are.”

“Sounds loud.”

“Mm-hmm.” She stretched the silence, letting it hang before she dropped the bait. “Guess who’s coming?”

His fingers paused mid-typing. “...”

“Yep. Poor girl’s been run ragged. You should’ve seen her, she looked like she was about to merge with the coffee machine. Thought it’d be nice for her to unwind.”

He didn’t reply right away, gaze still fixed on the screen, though nothing was being typed now.

His sister grinned. “Anyway. I told her you might come.”

This time, he looked at her.

“Just a heads up,” she added sweetly, before slipping out of the office.

Behind her, Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, his forearm rising to cover his eyes, as he slowly, very slowly smirked to himself. He let out a low chuckle, like he was plotting some evil Doofenshmirtz-level plan.

“This crazy bastard…” his sister just walked away as quickly as she could.

You were nestled in the corner of the private room, surrounded by your coworkers who were thriving in their tipsy chaos. The lights bounced off the walls, the mic was being tossed around like a volleyball, and someone was currently screaming their way through an old 2 PM hit.

You were smiling, even laughing occasionally, but your body still felt tired. Drained.

This probably wasn’t a good idea, but you were having fun. I guess you would have to prioritize your bodily needs tomorrow. The past few days had chewed you up and spit you out with a polite, overworked bow.

The door opened, and Jeonghan stepped in. Some of your coworkers did not expect him to come here, while the rest were too drunk to even get up from their seats. He was wearing a button-down shirt (too few buttons done up, you note) and sleeves rolled up like he just walked off a music video set.

You turned to your friend, who was screaming her lungs off. She made eye contact with you and winked. Yeah, no. This was her doing. 

You could see his eyes scanning the room until they stopped. At you. 

A faint smile ghosted across his lips. And then he walked in fully, sliding into an open seat at the end of the room, not next to you, but close enough to watch.

He didn’t even greet you directly.

You sipped your drink.

He sipped his.

But you could feel him there.

You had stepped out of the room to cool off. It was too warm. Too loud. Too much. It was like your skin couldn’t hold everything in anymore.

You were just beginning to breathe when you felt him.

Jeonghan leaned against the wall beside you like he belonged there. Like the hallway had been waiting for him.

You turned to see him, eyes closed, head tilted, cheek pressed lazily to his shoulder. His hair, beautifully disheveled, fanned out behind him, catching the soft light like silk. His shirt was slightly wrinkled, the few buttons still undone, skin glowing pale beneath the low light. His hair? 

You couldn’t tell if he was drunk or just reckless tonight. But his presence was magnetic, pulling everything in, including you.

“Team Leader Yoon… are you alright?” Your voice came out quiet, unsure, but your body already moved. You stepped in, closer, protective by habit and helplessness.

He didn’t answer at first. Just hummed low. His head dipped in a slow, deliberate motion.

“...Jeonghan?”

You watched the fall of his bangs. The way his lashes brushed the flush of his cheeks. His lips– plump, a little red, and parted just enough to tempt every reckless impulse in your brain.

Your hand lifted. You didn’t mean to. But it did. Hovering near his mouth.

You wondered:

Were they still wet from all the drinks? Or dry from the hallway air?

You didn’t find out.

Then, heat. Fingers wrapped around your wrist. Slow, firm.

You gasped.

He opened one eye, heavy-lidded, a little too knowing. Then, slowly, like he had all the time in the world, Jeonghan pulled you toward him. Not hard, instead, it was gentle, devastating. Until your bodies nearly touched.

You could feel it.

The heat. The scent.

Sandalwood. Lavender. And something unmistakably his.

And then, with the barest smirk at the corner of his lips, his thumb brushed over your bottom lip.

Your breath hitched.

“Same color,” he murmured, voice low. “Your lips… the other night.”

You forgot how to blink.

His thumb lingered a second longer before sliding away, his grip still secure around your wrist. But now, it was his fingers that trailed gently along the skin there, mapping every inch like it was a confession.

And then,

he moved again.

You didn’t even register it until his fingers brushed the slope of your neck. Just enough to make your breath hitch and your spine freeze.

Then he found the necklace you wore.

His fingers traced the delicate chain along your neck, unbearably slow, like he already knew what it was doing to you. You swallowed, breath catching when he reached the pendant resting above your collarbone. It was heart-shaped. Of course it was. His thumb brushed over it once, twice, as if he was testing the rhythm beneath it.

You were certain. Utterly, humiliatingly certain that he could feel your heartbeat rising against the cage of your ribs like it wanted to leap into his palm.

He held onto it.

Lifted it slightly. As if weighing something.

“Still wearing this?” he said, almost like he was asking himself.

Then, he let it go gently. The charm dropped against your skin with a soft clink.

You didn’t get to exhale.

Because in the next second, his hand slid to the back of your neck. His fingers threading through your hair, palm warm and solid.

He pulled you closer.

Not rough. Not rushed.

Intentional.

Your body followed, helpless.

He leaned in. Past your cheek. Past your jaw.

And just as your breath trembled out, his lips brushed the side of your neck, and he whispered: “What do you think of me?”

Your knees nearly gave out.

You could feel every syllable burn against your skin. Every letter was a sin.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t look at him.

Because he was right there. So close. And you knew, if you turned your head, your lips would meet.

But then–

The door behind you rattled.

Voices. Laughter. The sound of someone scream-singing off-key to “Autumn Leaves” by BTS. The hallway light flickered briefly from the opened door.

Your blood turned cold. Your stomach dropped.

He kept his hand at your nape. Still holding. Still there.

Your pulse thundered. His breath ghosted your jaw.

He looked amused. Barely. Like this was all some twisted game, and only he knew the rules.

“Let go,” you whispered, though you didn’t even sound like you meant it.

He didn’t.

He just smiled against your skin.

THUD.

“Oh God!”

Yoon Jeonghan. Your Team Leader. Your best friend’s brother.

And now? Collapsed at your feet. Dragging you down with him.

“Okay, okay, I got it, you’re very strong–”

You struggled to keep Jeonghan upright as he leaned heavily against your shoulder, humming some half-forgotten ballad into your ear. His hair was falling into his eyes, lips slack in a dopey grin.

Across from you, his sister, your beloved best friend, was swaying slightly on her feet.

“Sooo…” she slurred. “Isn’t he heavy? He’s heavy, right? I told him not to mix soju and beer.”

“You also cheered him on,” you deadpanned, glancing at her with a little more concern. “You don’t look so good either–wait, did you drink from that mystery cocktail?”

“Shhhh,” she hushed you with one finger to your lips. “Shhhh. Listen. Focus. Mission. Jeonghan. Home.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna take him to your apartment, right?”

Your best friend blinked, confusion present on her drunken face.

Then she laughed. “Babe, I can’t even find my own feet.”

You turned your head slowly to where Jeonghan was now lightly beatboxing under his breath with his eyes closed. 

“Oh my god.”

Oh my god, indeed.

Somehow, by sheer divine intervention and one very confused taxi driver, you got Jeonghan into the backseat of a cab, while your best friend leaned dramatically against a lamp post, blinking slowly.

“Alright, I’ll ride with him,” she mumbled. “You go home.”

“Uh.” You hesitated. “I think I should go with you two, actually.”

“Noooo.” She waved a limp hand. “I’ll just… go to sleep.”

“What–no, you can’t sleep in a cab– wait, are you calling another one for yourself?”

She nodded very proudly, pressing her phone to her cheek like it was a teddy bear. “Like a pro.”

You sighed, pulling out your phone. “I’m calling someone else to–”

She called out your name in a long and slurred tone.

You turned, and your best friend was suddenly wide awake. Swaying, but possessed by purpose.

“I have a genius idea.”

“…not this again.”

“You take him home.”

“What?!”

“Genius,” she whispered proudly. “He trusts you.”

You stared at her, baffled. You shook your head and said: “I should be taking care of you, not your brother–”

“But I’ll be fiiine,” she grinned, now somehow sitting on the sidewalk. “I live around here. You’re going the same way, anywayyyy. You’re also the responsible one. He’ll be nice to you.”

From the cab, Jeonghan murmured something that sounded vaguely like, “You smell like flowers,” before slumping over dramatically.

You exhaled. And sighed. And almost cried a little.

“…I hate all of you.”

The drive was mostly quiet, save for the muffled sound of traffic and Jeonghan’s occasional humming, off-key, barely coherent, but somehow still hypnotic. His head was back on your shoulder again, like a magnet, a gravitational constant you had no power over.

Your heart hadn’t slowed down since the hallway.

You didn’t move. You didn’t even breathe too hard.

Then, the cab driver cleared his throat. Glanced at you two through the mirror. You, with your face red, with your boss leaning on your shoulders.

“So…” he said, voice light. “Are you two dating?”

You froze.

“I– what? N-No, we’re not–”

“Because you look good together,” the driver continued, oblivious and chuckling. “Like a couple in a drama, you know?”

You were about to melt into the seat and die when Jeonghan stirred beside you.

He blinked slowly. Then let out a soft chuckle.

And in a warm, slurred tone, he said–

“I agree with him… Are we?”

Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide.

“Jeonghan–!”

But he was smiling now, lopsided and sweet, his cheek still pressed to your shoulder like it was the most natural place in the world.

He turned his face slightly, lips grazing the fabric of your shirt.

“You’re soft,” he mumbled.

Your nervous system stopped completely

The cab driver laughed. “Ahah, young love.”

You slapped your hand over your face, covering every inch that exposed the flush of your cheeks. “I’m going to jump out of this car.”

“I’ll catch you,” Jeonghan murmured, barely audible now, already drifting again.

But his hand, warm and slow, was still holding your wrist. Thumb brushing lazily across your skin like he wasn’t done saying everything he wanted to say.

You didn’t speak for the rest of the ride.

But your heart did. Loudly. The whole time.

Tag list: @sumzysworld, @lixisoul99, @viciousdarlings, reiofsuns2001, @lily409, @armycarat2612, @cheolliesvt

(To everyone commenting/reacting to this story, thank u very much! I'll make sure to actually finish this for u guys 😭❤)

[saymio]

can i have a small blurb involving thanos being obsessed with his and the reader’s height difference, like how his hands are so large compared to her body and how she squirms around struggling to take his size .. thank you ! i love you and your writing :)

thanos blurb...consider this an appetizer before my inho fic..this is rushed and kinda bad doe </3 sorry anon

thanos is like 5'10-5'11, he's a pretty tall guy..so it wasn't hard to be shorter than him..and he loved that !1!1 whether its 2 inches or 9 he loves being tall than you, especially when he'd rearrange your insides^_^ I imagine him being 8inches, not super thick but its still something your cunt would have to get used to.

...

first time you guys fuck would be magically for the both of you, he'd go HARD on u. feeling how tight and small your pussy felt, squeezing the large cock inside u: ( your loud moans and quiet whines, your small hands gripping at the covers of your shared bed. it turned him on so bad he just wanted to flip you over and ruin your insides... you gave him cuteness aggression and the only way it'd go away is to abuse your small body !!

...

the both of you were cuddled up on his living room couch, random movies playing in the background to what felt like hours of making out and drinking. by now you were both at your breaking point and wanted a release.. you felt his long cold fingers walk their way down your stomach to the hem of your sweatpants, he didn't even wait for an answer before pushing his hands down further to your now dripping cunt. "fuck you're wet.." he basically moaned into your ear as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, not caring to be gentle with your sensitive clit. "w-wait..a-..feels good stoop oh.." your head dropped to his shoulders, your small hands reaching to his arms as a way to steady yourself from the pleasure. "be gen- ah~ be gentle please.." you gave him big pleading eyes..it was your first time after all..you weren't used to this kind of touch... but he just laughed in your face. why date him if you expected him to be gentle? he's held back for months, held back from flipping your small body over while you slept. he held back from fucking you stupid.. and now that hes this close to doing it, you tell him to be gentle? what a joke...

"w-wait wait wait OH god... wait please please please oh- god" your moans, your whines, they blessed thanos' ears as he fucked you. large hands gripping your smaller waist, he was admiring how cute you looked under him. "you look so hot right now, did you know that y/n? you look so small n vulnerable....so cute.." you just whined back to him, you were barely even able to make a coherent sentence..you were too focused on how good his cock felt inside your tight hole, squirming and whining..he loved it so much. he loved seeing you struggle to take his size, he loved watching how small you were compared to him. he reached his left hand to your hair, grabbing a chuck of it to pull.. "takin me so well, you're such a good little girl..does it feel good?" his pace went faster, sloppier, you knew he was getting close and..so were you. you whined and hummed, nodding your little head as much as you could because of the position you were in. "yeah yesyesyesh...feels sogood~ love it s'much feel so good" your eyes rolled back, a wave of heat took over your body as you arched your back and pushed your ass back into Thanos, forcing his length deeper into your core.. "fuck, cum baby. cum for me..be a good girl ggodd yes.." you let out a loud mewl, cumming on his large cock..leaving a translucent ring as he fucked his own cum deeper into your pussy... "feel s'good...wan more...wan more" you giggled out as your body gave up under you..leading to Thanos holding you up himself.. "fuck..good girl...so small and obedient.. love you so much baby...love you sososo much..."

...

gulp this was rushed and not proof read..sorry guys T T I promise the inho fic is coming soon maybe..and will be 10x as better..hopefully....

[lavandulawrites]

Astralis Desires

Chapter 4: New Beginnings

Various HSR men x reader

I apologise for the wait! I can’t wait for the next chapter as we are finally going to embark on our journey as the Nameless:) Let me know if you want to be apart of the taglist!

Chapter1, chapter 2, chapter 3

Synopsis: You have started to settle down at the Express. The nightmare from the night before still lingers in your mind…

Masterlist Astralis Desires Masterlist

Warnings: NSFW (the NSFW part is skippable) female masuterbation, getting walked in on

Word count: 3128

The pair of eyes from the night before were still present whenever you closed your eyes. You could feel their heavy breathing from behind, breathing down your neck like a hungry wolf. The imagery haunted you like a restless spirit as you made your way to the Buffet Car. Your warm slippers dragged across the flooring as you yawned. You had fallen asleep sometime in the night, but your dreams had been filled by horrifying nightmares beyond your grasp and the hollowness of blackness. Your energy had been completely drained by a seemingly invisible vampire and blue circles had formed underneath your eyes. You had though a nice shower and a light touch of makeup (nothing crazy) would make you look more alive, but you had been wrong.

The automatic door to the car opened with a soft “swoosh” and your nose was greeted by the delicious smell of blueberry pancakes. The rest of the crew were all seated at the dining table. March had saved an empty chair between her and Caelus.

“Good morning [Name]! I’m glad you managed to find the way to the Buffet Car!” March grinned.

“Good morning. I’m not that helpless” you playful rolled your eyes with a chuckle. Though if it hadn’t been for March showing you around the Express the previous day, your would have been lost.

The rest of the crew all wished you a good morning, before they went back to their food.

“Did you sleep well last night?” Himeko asked you as she sipped on her coffee. Her hair was put up in an effortlessly bun which she made look extremely chic.

You paused for a moment. The eyes from last night flashed in your mind once again and the heavy feeling of dread swept over you like a poltergeist. Your mouth dried and your body made it impossible for you to utter a word about the occurrence. It was if something held you back and protected you from whatever might happen if you told the woman.

“I slept great. The bed is very comfy” you smiled. You would have to tell her about the nightmare you had later. Your eyes raked over the table as you eyed Caelus beside you. He was preoccupied with cracking his egg so he didn’t notice your gaze. Dan Heng was sitting opposite from you, but he was busy stirring his tea. Welt was sitting to Dan Heng’s right and was reading the newspaper. None of them had even moved a facial muscle at your words…You felt bad for even having a small suspicion.

“Do you want a pancake?” March pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Thanks” you said as she sent you the plate of fresh blueberry pancakes.

Welt had lowered his newspaper and was looking at you through his black glasses. His brown eyes was unreadable as he slightly tilted his head. “I can imagine it’s quite the change living here. I hope you adapt pretty soon” his deep voice like a warm spring breeze, with a touch of a brimming storm in the distance. You couldn’t quite place his tone, but the hairs on your arms raised in defence as if they were soldiers waiting for an inevitable battle.

“It is quite the difference, but I was aware of that. I miss my best friend, but we promised each other to keep in touch” you took a bite of the pancake. It was warm and fluffy, the sweet and fresh flavours melting on your tongue.

“That’s good. Friends are extremely important” he smiled.

After breakfast you took the time to explore. You could remember some of the ways, but you needed to freshen up your memory. Before you knew it you were outside of the door that lead to March’s bedroom. She had showed you the room yesterday when she had lent you some pillows. You raised your hand and knocked firmly three times. In the matter of seconds, the door swung open and out peaked a head of fluffy pink hair.

“Hey [Name]! What’s up?” she beamed as she dragged you inside.

“I’m getting familiar with the plac- what are you doing?” March was looking from side to side outside in the corridor, which made you stop mid sentence.

“Nothing…” she hastily said as she closed the door. She leaned against the door and smiled at you with a stupid smile.

“Right…” you raised your brow.

“Did you like the pillows? I have some more if you want some.”

“I did. They’re very comfortable. Thank you” you smiled.

March moved from the door and plumped down at the bunny chair by the wall of pictures. They were electronic and shifted every so often. They were of March and the Crew and various places they had been to. There were also a handful pictures of cute bunnies and plushies. The white walls had pink and blue accents that worked seamlessly together. Posters and stickers were thoughtfully placed along them. The bed was large and full of plushies of various animals: bunnies, cats, dogs, horses, bears and birds. They all were fluffy and you reached out to gently stroke a big white bunny. Its ears were incredibly soft, almost like the real thing. The dark parquet was polished and two rugs covered some of it. Her bedroom was slightly cluttered, but it wasn’t messy. Every single furniture and every single trinket reflected the energetic girl perfectly.

“I really can’t get over how cute your room is. You gotta help me decorate mine when we got time” you turned to her. She was rummaging through her desk drawers for something.

“Thank you! Of course I can, I love shopping!” she enthusiastically answered without lifting her head from her drawer.

“Oh! Here it is!” March sprung up like a rabbit and held up an object of half the size of her hand. “I wanted to give you this yesterday, but I completely forgot. Here.”

With a blink of an eye she was in front of you. In her hand was a purple switchblade. The colour was light and metallic and reflected in the soft light. She pushed the button with her thumb and the blade swung out. “It’s important to have something to protect yourself. Should you ever need it” her usually playful smile was replaced with a serious expression. Her light brown eyebrows were slightly lowered as she looked at you with earnest. “Take it” she pushed the button once again and the blade disappeared into its shell.

March took your hand and opened it and placed the knife down. You studied it for a few seconds before you slipped it into the back pocket of your pants. “Thank you.” You wanted to say that it wasn’t necessary, but a faint voice told you that it was. Who knew what you might encounter on your journey. The life of someone like you were dangerous and March knew it.

“People like us need to look out for each other” a smile slightly tugged on her lips. “The Crew is like family to me. But please tell me…” she took a deep breath as if her next words pained her “If anything happens. Promise?”

“I promise” you nodded.

As you excited March’s room, Himeko was on the way out from hers. “Oh hi!” she closed the door behind her. “Doing alright?” she tilted her head.

You nodded “Yeah.”

She returned your nod. “Do you want some coffee?”

The Party Car was empty save from the two of you. The robot that you had seen behind the counter was nowhere to be seen. The dimmed warm light gave off a cozy atmosphere and the soft jazz playing over the speakers amplified it. Himeko busied herself with the coffee machine which was off stainless steel and seemed quite expensive. She hummed a melody you had heard playing on the radio countless times as she worked her magic. “How do you like the Express so far?”

“It’s very beautiful and you all are so nice.”

“I’m glad. Though I can’t promise our adventures will be peaceful. They mostly turn out exciting and full of unexpected surprises. I think you’re going to love them” she turned towards you with a soft expression. She gave you a cup of warm black coffee. The liquid was so black that it almost didn’t reflect light.

“Thank you” you let your hand warm themselves around the cup. You swung your leg slightly from the barstool as you thought. “You remember that I said I slept well earlier? Well that wasn’t exactly true. I had a nightmare” you didn’t know why you were telling her this, but something about her reminded you of a big sister.

“A nightmare? I can’t say I didn’t suspect you from lying. What did you dream about?” Himeko’s voice was laced with concern.

You scratched your neck awkwardly. “I had a dream about the space station and… something that happened before Caelus, Dan Heng and March rescued me” ugh why were you telling her this?

“I see…” she put her cup down and leaned forward in her seat. She rested her head on her arm that was propped up on the counter as she gave you her full attention. “Do tell.”

“I dreamt about a man who I saw die before my eyes. He was so real in my dream. He still haunts me. If only I could have saved him” regret tugged at your heart strings and an invisible hand wrapped around the beating organ and squeezed. It was difficult to breathe and each breath felt like fire burning through your lungs. Your eyes were foggy and it stung behind the sockets.

“Breath. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself for something you didn’t do” a warm hand stroked your back in a comforting manner. Himeko’s soft voice swept through your ears and calmed you down. Your heart was still beating hard and your cheeks had turned wet, but you were no longer hyperventilating.

“I’m sorry” you rubbed your eyes hard.

“Don’t be. Your reaction is only normal” she pulled you into a hug. “I’m glad you are okay. Promise to tell us if there is something the matter. Okay?” her golden eyes met yours. They were soft and full of understanding and empathy.

“Promise” you would have to tell her about the eyes another time.

The charger you had packed with you had at your great horror gotten squeezed underneath some books in your suitcase. The cord had torn and the copper wires were fully on display. It was a fire hazard and you knew better than to use it. Luckily for you, there were a passenger on the Express who seemed to have great knowledge when it came to electronics and if you were lucky, he would have a spare charger you could borrow.

You firmly knocked on the door to the archives. It didn’t take long before it opened, revealing the handsome face of Dan Heng. His stoic expression suddenly twisted into surprise upon seeing you before it restored back to normal.

“Hello. Can I help you with anything?” his tone was soft as he quickly looked you up and down as if it would give him any clues. “Come in” he pushed the door fully open so you could enter before it closed automatically.

“Can I borrow a charger? I need one for model-”

“Model X-14” he finished your sentence before you could blink. Wait how did he know? Noticing your confusion, he cleared his throat “I noticed the model yesterday. It’s a good phone. Not the newest, but still quite durable” he looked away and onto his turned off PC-screen. “I think I have one here” he walked to his desk and looked through the drawers.

You followed him to the desk and the faint background noise you noticed when you entered his room, became audible. The voices were low, but you still managed to make out some of the words.

“… make them relay on you… gain their trust…-”

Like lightning from clear sky, a pale hand quickly rushed forwards and turned off the radio. “Here you go” he reached you the charger. Though his voice was friendly, his eyes were icy with something brimming underneath the surface. It was clearly something you weren’t supposed to hear.

“Thank you” your skin brushed together and your warm skin soft against his slightly cold skin.

“You are welcome. Feel free to come by if you ever need help with something” a smile tugged on his lips, revealing his pearly fangs.

“I will.” As you left you couldn’t shake off the chilly feeling of unease…

With a fully charged phone, you decided to connect it to the built in speakers of your bathroom. You drew a bath with perfectly warm water with lots of bubbles. Soft jazz was playing from the speakers, creating a cozy and intimate atmosphere. The water enveloped you in a gentle embrace as you let you self fully soak. The bathtub was absurdly huge and you could swim small laps in it. You closed your eyes as you let yourself become one with the ripples and the sensual music. Your muscles were aching from stress and bad sleep so it felt good to finally being able to relax. The excessive bobbles enveloped you in a warm embrace, hiding anything but your head and neck from sight. You stared up at the black ceiling as you relaxed. The song that was playing was a sensual piece, with saxophones, piano, trumpets and soft rhythmic drums. It was a love song with no lyrics, but the meaning was still clear to the listeners. You took the soap bar and gently scrubbed you skin. From your neck to your legs. You fingers paused by you crotch. You were alone and a lot had happened. Why not indulge yourself for once? You rarely touched yourself, but you were just a woman and women have their needs. It had been difficult to do so at the space station, but you had the whole room to yourself.

You leaned your head slightly back and closed your eyes as your fingers found your clit. You drew small circles on it and you let out a small sigh in relief. You really needed this. You gently pushed your middle finger inside your cunt while you continued to play with the clit with your thumb. You let yourself sink down further in the tub, so only your head was above water. You followed the beat of the soft drums with your movements. The warm water worked as a lubricant and soon you put another finger inside your fluttering walls. You could have used the tub’s shower head, but your fingers were good enough. Soft moans slipped past your lips. You let your thoughts past as you only focused on the pleasure. Nothing else mattered, not in the moment. Your body was filled with tranquility and pleasure and all the tension you muscles held all disappeared. You did not know how long you had been fingering yourself, but the familiar knot in your lower abdomen grew bigger and bigger.

You threw you head back as you let out a strangled moan. You were close. Just a bit more and you would climax. You sped up the movements as you chased your release. The left door swung open. A figure stood in the doorway not registering you at first.

“Hi [Name]! March helped me download this game on my phone and it’s a multiplayer game so I thought you and I cou-” Caelus words was so fast you almost didn’t understand what he was saying. His excitement turned into shock as he saw you.

You screamed like a pig getting skinned alive as you submerged further down in the water. You pulled your hand out of your cunt as avast as you could. “WHAT THE FUCK CAELUS?! CAN’T YOU KNOCK?!”

He just stood frozen in place as his eyes raked over you. His eyes tailed down to your knee that was slightly visible through the foam and back to your face. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. His eyes suddenly snapped open before he slammed his hand over his eyes. His other hand shot down to the already forming tent in his pants. “Oh fuck! I am so so sorry!”

“Get out!” you screamed as you pointed to the door (not that it actually helped as he had a hand over his eyes).

“Y-yeah!” he tripped over his own two feet as he rushed to get out.

As the door to your bedroom slammed close you let out a breath. Not only did your orgasm get ruined, but you also got caught fingering yourself by a man you only had known for two days. You wanted to disappear into the water and never return. How on earth were you going to be able to face him now?

You stumbled out of the bathtub. The water had gotten cold as you hadn’t pit on the auto heat and your fingers had become wrinkly and gross. After you had dried yourself and put on some loungewear and put your hair up in a towel, you checked your phone. It had gotten late and you needed to eat some dinner before you went to sleep. You had gotten a message from Himeko.

-

Himeko: Hey! Tomorrow we will depart on our next journey, so get some rest! There are some make-ahead dinner in the fridge in the Buffet Car that you guys can heat up. Remember to go to bed early, especially you: Caelus and [Name] as it’s your guys first adventure:)

-

After eating a fulfilling meal that consisted of meatballs and potatoes among other things, you slipped into bed. You hadn’t ran into Caelus as you went to eat dinner and it was obvious he avoided you like the plague. You couldn’t blame him. The duvet was warm and cozy as you snuggled against it. You were both nervous and excited for tomorrow and you weren’t sure on what to expect. Slept crept over you and embraced you in it’s tight hold. Your dreams were filled with stars and other magnificent heavenly bodies.

Your dreaming state was completely oblivious to the figure who had sneaked inside. The shadowy figure watched over your sleeping form for a few minutes, before it gently stroke a strand of hair away from your face. It admired you for a while before it decided to exit your bedroom. As it moved across the dark room, a scented trail of tea and coffee followed it. Just as the door closed softly behind the phantom, your eyes snapped open. You could have sworn you had heard something…

Taglist: @anervouswolf-blog @adayahearts @justboredforreal @bookworkducky @siopaomai @spiderfly-tree-rat @berrythestrewberry @darkumbreon92 @danhoneyyysblog @is-it-night-or-day @valarie04

[juliettejwnewinesa]

could u do something like sieun accuses u of cheating on him bc of a rumour and argues w u about it ? then when he finds out that the rumour was fake he has to grovel a little to get u back <3 love ur work thank u 🩷

Title: Rumors and Redemption

Yes I am a GIF repeater Leave me alone

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It started on a day like any other, until your phone buzzed relentlessly with notifications. At first, you thought it was just friends chatting — but the messages were different. Rumors. Lies. Whispers about you, about someone else.

You tried to brush it off. You trusted Si-eun.

But when he stormed into your shared space that afternoon, his eyes blazing with hurt and confusion, you knew the rumors had already done their damage.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone else?” His voice cracked, sharp and accusing as he held out his phone, the screen glowing with screenshots from gossip threads and private chats. Names you didn’t recognize. Stories you hadn’t heard.

You blinked, heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst. “Si-eun... I’m not seeing anyone else. Please. You have to believe me.”

His gaze pierced you, searching for any sign of a lie. “Then why all these messages? Why do they say you’ve been sneaking around, laughing with some guy?”

You swallowed, voice steady despite the fear curling in your chest. “Because it’s not true. Someone’s spreading lies — I don’t even know who that guy is.”

He paced the room, every step heavy with anger and disbelief. “You should’ve told me! I found out from others, not you. How could you keep that from me?”

“I wasn’t hiding it because there was nothing to hide,” you pleaded, tears pricking your eyes. “I thought you trusted me.”

“For the first time, I don’t know what to believe,” he whispered, voice raw. “Maybe you never really cared.”

The words hit like a punch. You shook your head fiercely. “That’s not true. I love you. You’re the only one I want.”

But the distance in his eyes was deafening.

Days passed like a frozen nightmare. You tried reaching out, but his silence was a wall.

Each message you sent went unanswered. Each call ignored.

You felt the ache of his absence in every breath.

Then one evening, a message appeared. Meet me. We need to talk.

Your heart thundered as you walked to the quiet park where he said he’d wait.

He was there, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes downcast.

“I was wrong,” he said finally, voice soft but heavy. “I found the proof — that rumor was a lie. Someone wanted to mess with us.”

You stepped closer, hesitant but desperate. “So... you believe me now?”

He looked up, vulnerability cracking through his tough exterior. “I should’ve believed you from the start.”

The tension that had wrapped around your hearts began to unravel.

“I’m sorry for accusing you,” he said, voice thick with regret. “For not trusting you. For hurting you.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as relief and pain mingled. “I was scared too, Si-eun. Scared of losing you.”

He reached for your hands, fingers trembling slightly as they curled around yours. “Don’t ever scare me like that again. Please.”

“I won’t,” you whispered.

He pulled you into a tight embrace, forehead resting against yours. “I’ll do anything to make this right. To prove I’m yours.”

You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his love wash away the doubt.

That night, Si-eun stayed close, whispering promises, begging forgiveness with every word.

He wasn’t perfect. But he was yours, raw, honest, and willing to fight for you.

And that was enough.

[for-your-modesty-dude]

Reentry Pt. 2

Part 1

A/N: So, funny story... I wasn't planning on posting another part today already, but I started to write and this just fell out. It just kinda... wrote itself. It's a short one and has not been beta'ed, so please excuse any grammatical/spelling errors. I sat down and banged it out in like an hour and a half. I'm really excited to explore this little coffee shop au, and I think it's a world I'm gonna exist in for awhile, if you all don't mind. I have other WIPs to work on, too, but I think this guy is gonna stay a steady constant for a bit. Bc I'm in love with this version of Eddie rn. As always, if you've got suggestions or requests, send them my way - I don't have a solid plot for this yet except a few scenes I knew need to be included. Anyway, thank you all for reading and making me feel seen. I love y'all sm. - Hy <3

p.s. please tell me if you want to be added to my taglist!

Summary: Eddie is having lots of doubts and struggling with day-to-day activities. You can't blame him - 5 years of incarceration will really throw a wrench in who you thought you were, but maybe a friend can help.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs and doing time.

Word Count: ~1.7k

You knew that Eddie had been avoiding having that homecoming dinner, but he couldn’t avoid it forever. The day of his interview at the bar, Steve and Dustin popped into the bookstore as they often did. You were just reorganizing some shelves when you heard their bickering as they entered - those two never stopped, no matter how old they got. 

“I’m telling you, man. Eddie is not feeling a dinner party right now. And he’s got that big interview later, I can’t just spring a surprise party on him like that. Plus, we don’t know if everyone is even available. Let it go, we’ll do something lowkey next weekend or something.”

“Steve,” Dustin started, with that tone of faux patience like he was talking to a toddler, “if he gets the job, he won’t be available for a dinner party next weekend, you’re aware of this, right?”

You just listened to the argument that Eddie clearly didn’t want to have a party right now. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, Steve was a good friend. Dustin was, too, just in a different way. They both wanted the best for their friend - but it was uncharted territory for all of them. You were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of your name, and you turned with something of a surprised expression and a “hi!”

“Are you available for a dinner party tonight?” Dustin asked, straight to the point, and Steve had to add his side, too. 

“Do you think it’s appropriate for us to have a surprise party for a guy who is clearly struggling with rejoining society when he doesn’t seem to want to be around crowds?”

“Woah, there, gentlemen,” you held your hands up in surrender. “Yes,” you pointed at Dustin, “but I’m with Steve,” you pointed to Steve next, and Dustin let out a loud groan.

“How is he ever supposed to assimilate if he can’t even have dinner with a group of his friends?” Dustin insisted. 

He had something of a point, he did, but something about startling Eddie like that just didn’t feel right. He was so antsy, so on edge. You hadn’t known the guy before prison, but that didn’t matter. The person you’d started to get to know these past two weeks didn’t seem like he’d feel very comfortable with a surprise of any sort, much less a surprise dinner party. 

“You’re right. But you’re going about it wrong,” you said honestly. “I think the answer is to plan a dinner party and give him full warning of when it’s happening, where, with whom, and what’s on the menu. Yes, I agree he needs social interactions to properly assimilate, but let’s not overwhelm him all at once. He’s been so jumpy since I’ve met him. That’s not a guy you want to surprise.”

Steve gestured at you like he’d been trying to make this point to Dustin the whole time. Dustin, not one to back away, let out a rather dramatic sigh. “Fine. Whatever, fine. But only because you’re not going to help me if I do it tonight.”

That seemed to be enough for Steve. 

“We can do it here, if you’d like,” you suggested. “I can close the bookstore early, and we can use the cafe’s kitchen to finish up whatever dinner we want to make. Or we can order a pizza or something. But it could be nice, I’ll bring out the beanbags and stuff, and we can do it in the game room. Just a nice dinner for him to see all of his friends in one place again, but not overwhelming by being too formal or at anyone’s house. This way, if he wants to go home early, he can.”

There was a silence as both men considered this, and then they both nodded, seemingly satisfied with the idea. 

“Yeah, that’s cool. It’s a good idea. We’ll see when everyone is available and then get back to you.” Dustin nodded, and Steve gave you a grateful smile. 

When both of them lingered a bit in front of you, you rolled your eyes. “The usual, nerds?”

Steve guffawed as he and Dustin followed you into the coffee shop, “him, sure. I’m not a nerd,” he insisted, but you just gave him a look that shut him up. 

You got them their drinks and sent them on their way, helping a few customers before putting your apron away and starting towards the book shelves again. Before you could make it there, you heard the jingling of the bells above the door, and turned to find a disheveled and breathless Eddie. You just pulled your apron back on and hurried to the register with a smile. 

“Hey you!” You greeted, but he looked a little frantic, so your smile faltered. “Everything okay?”

“I-” he took a steadying breath, “I couldn’t go through with it. The interview. I stood at the door to the bar, and it was like all the blood drained out of me, and- I couldn’t do it.”

He nearly tugged his hair out as he stood before you, and you put a hand on his arm across the counter, “hey. Hey, it’s okay. Let me brew you a cup of tea, and we can go back and talk in the game room, yeah?”

He let go of his hair and nodded, eyes big and vulnerable. He didn’t know why he’d ended up here, telling you this of all people. Maybe it was that you didn’t have expectations of him, after all, you’d never met him before his stint. It felt easier to confide in someone who didn’t know who he was, or who he had been.

You put lots of care into brewing him the right blend of tea, sweetening it to his taste and then motioning for him to follow you. You hung up your apron and handed him the steaming cup, leading him into the bookstore and then back to the game room. It was decorated for the D&D campaigns your friends liked to run, and had a large table with comfy chairs around it, but most importantly, it had a comfy couch against one wall, and had a door that closed and locked for privacy. No one had rented the room out today, so you let him in and closed the door behind you. You gestured for him to take a seat, which he did, and then took the seat beside him, facing him. 

“You know it’s okay, right?” You asked him softly, “it’s okay to not have been okay enough to go in there.”

He sipped carefully from the cup and shrugged. “I’m not usually like this. People have never scared me before. That was, like, my whole thing. I was the town freak, and proud of it.” He paused, “well - not proud of it, exactly, but I wore it like a badge of honor. And now I can’t even walk into a bar for a job interview? How am I ever supposed to hold a job if I can’t even interview?”

You let the question hang in the air for a moment before responding, “Eddie, it’s normal that life feels wrong to you right now. It’s normal that you’re having a hard time doing things you never struggled with before. You know that, right? You really need to know that.”

Your tone seemed to ring true to him, and he took a deep breath, but nodded. “Yeah. I know that.”

“Good,” you smiled gently. “So, wanna interview here?”

Despite your previous offer that morning, he seemed taken aback by your genuine offer. He studied you for a moment, as if he expected you to hesitate or take it back, but eventually nodded. 

“Okay, how about tomorrow? Wednesdays around 8:30 there’s no one here, we can sit and have a drink and a pastry together and I can interview you, and you can ask me all the questions you want about the job. How’s that sound?”

Again, he seemed truly surprised by your kindness, and took a moment to agree. Really, he was just curious about you. He’d never met anyone as kind, as patient. Sure, he knew his friends loved him, and they really were trying, but there was something about the fact that they knew the old Eddie that put him off. It made him feel insecure - like they were just waiting to get him back. That they didn’t really know this Eddie. This guy was a stranger to them, and he couldn’t blame them. So your kindness to this Eddie, not pity, not walking on eggshells, but genuine kindness… it struck him.

“Yeah,” his voice cracked just a touch when he answered, and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, tomorrow, 8:30. I’ll bring my resume. You’re positive this is okay?”

“Yes, Eddie,” you said with a playfully exasperated smile, “I’m positive. It’ll be great. And who knows, maybe we’ll be coworkers,” you grinned at him.

He couldn’t help but to grin back, and something inside of him settled. He sipped at his tea again, and you just sat there together awhile, mostly in silence but also discussing the two books he’d gotten from you two weeks ago, and the books he wanted to try next. When you got up, you led him to the shelves to help him choose his next two. You promised he could pay for one, but you wanted to gift him the other, and he felt pretty special that you wanted to do so for him.

When he left, he seemed considerably less upset than he had when he’d arrived, and honestly, you’d taken that as quite the compliment to your comforting skills. Eddie was incredibly kind, so caring, and wanted so badly to succeed somehow in life. You hoped that maybe with this job, you’d somehow help him - that he’d find a home here, at the shop. You were rather looking forward to the interview with him, though you pretty much planned on hiring him anyway, no matter how the interview went. 

You had no way of knowing, but Eddie had gone back to Steve’s that day, seeming more himself than Steve had seen him in the time he was back. He didn’t know what had put Eddie so at ease, but he was grateful for it. He hoped it would last.

Taglist:

@am0iur @ali-r3n @hellmastereddie @ziggeddie @nojamsonmytoast @seedlingghost @loveu2themoonandsaturn @aliceheart247 @littlemissholy @daydreampending @justalotoffanfiction @midnightdragonzero @iyskgd @girlwedontcare @micheledawn1975 @kaita

[krispdreemurr]

Your discussion of the Dark World in 3 having different elements and the phrase 'Kris has aligned themself with the Knight but pieces of something else bleed through' reminds me of the hidden tropic of love dialogue in sword route from Tenna that reads like. "i'm trying my best to make it fun, but… here and there, strange things are showing through…" Which I think conceptually is especially Neat considering the like. Idk words, friction between Ramb and Tenna re: what the 'fun' of the world should be, even as both of them Do want Kris to have fun? Do you have any thoughts on that entire implied subplot-ish thing in the context of Kris Themes?

yeah absolutely there's that... hm. trying to word things

Kris very much wanted this to be a light and easy dark world for Susie and Ralsei (and themself), both because they care for them a lot and to alleviate some of their guilt about putting their mom in danger/hopefully getting a cop kidnapped. they knew it had to be Bad at the end, but they wanted something fun and easy until then. something to make it a little better. that's what tenna offers; can't we have one last fun night together?

but of course that wasn't going to work like. they're under incredible mental strain, they're feeling like an object being passed between carol and the soul, they're dealing with this horrible guilt that they're okay with going along with carols plan at all, etc. and i think Ramb and the sword route offer the chance to just--stop trying. stop pretending that they're a good person. maybe they can even learn to take enjoyment in being what they are, can see it as fun, as a game, as not real. isn't freedom in a cage learning to think of yourself as outside the bars? if you're only given the capacity to do harm, but you're rewarded for it, can't you find joy in it?

i think a lot about Susie if Kris tells her they didn't have fun just unplugging the controller and telling them to stop. it's aimed at a weird route player, of course, but I also think it's one of those things that starts to dig into Kris' commitment to the plan. if they're being asked to do things they find repulsive just to continue with the plan - maybe they don't have to continue with it at all.

[edwardhartenjoyer]

HAI ANDY !!!! i hope u dont mind he popping in again but i got another idea nd wanted to share it w you in case u feel like writing!! C: i hope u are doing well, do u have any projects youre working on rn? :O

as for the idea,,, yk how leo is always yanking at mc, trying to get her to pose as his girlfriend? well . what if mc was already dating someone?? and they're like "leo im literally taken like. i am someone's partner i cant be yours ew that's so fucked up." and go tell THEIR partner about it just so there are no misunderstandings.

I MEAN YOU CAN WRITE WHATEVER U WANT WITH THIS CONCEPT obviously T0T THERE ARE A LOT OF WAYS THIS COULD GO ???? ive certainly thought about ritsu suing his ass into oblivion but leo doesnt need that attention so i digress. he'd make a livestream in the courtroom istg TT0TT

ANYWAY !!!!!!!!!!!!!! that is my Thought as for characters uhh the usual??? i like requesting people's favs so just write whoever u would like ^_^ i dont want to stress u out!!! i hope u have the best day ever and rest well this weekend!!!

HI AUBURN!!! I love your ideas so much so no worries i will always be happy to see you have one for me <3

I have a couple of projects I'm working on! I got my comfort series i just started, and aside from that, roughly 4 different projects in my drafts that are in various stages of completion

AHH I love this idea!! I always hate when Leo does the fake girlfriend shit, like no stfu, you are far from the list of people I'd date go away.

Featuring: Ritsu | Sho | Alan | Subaru

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Hey NPC! Pose agianst that wall over there for me!"

You groaned in annoyance as you looked over to see Leo coming up to you.

"Why should I do anything for you?" You snapped.

"I'll keep bothering you until you do it~" Leo cooed in a smug tone, and you sighed again, giving in and posing like he wanted just to get him to go away.

"Great! Looks like you are good for something!" Leo sneered, turning to walk away.

"Hold up! Why the fuck did you want my picture?!" You snapped, "That's creepy as hell."

"To introduce you as my girlfriend to my followers."

"WHAT! NO! That's even more creepy, and I'm already dating someone who very much isn't you! Delete that photo!" You yelled, but Leo just laughed and dodged away from you.

"Too late, already posted NPC!" He sneered before rushing off.

Shit, this wasn't good. First things first, go tell your boyfriend about this so he doesn't misunderstand the situation.

Ritsu Shinjo - You'd immediately texted Ritsu to meet with you at the Mystery Diner, citing it as an emergency.

When you walked in he was already there waiting for you, and he stood up when you came in. "Are you alright? What's the nature of the emergency?" He asked, immediately worried after your health.

"I'm okay, but something happened and I need you to know the full story before you hear something." You explained and he nodded, sitting back down and placing his recorder out on the table.

You sat down across from him and explained to him what happened in full detail since you knew he'd want to know even the smallest of details.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention immediately." Ritsu began, "Now, what legal action would you like to take? There are laws against the falsifying of information, or perhaps we could even get him on malicious intent-"

You cut him off before he could carry on. "No, no legal action. I'm sure he'd just love the attention from it." You scoffed, imagining how smug the social media star would be. "I just wanted you to know because we don't need stupid things like this getting between us and i don't want to see you get hurt if you thought for even a second I'd date someone else because i just wouldn't."

Ritsu smiled softly at you, "Thank you, it would have hurt a great deal if I'd heard that you were dating someone else, especially someone like him."

You smiled back at him, "I only have eyes for you Ritsu, I love you."

"I love you too."

And, days later, you learned that Leo's post about you had been suddenly taken down. If you try to ask Ritsu about it, he'll deny having a hand in it, though you have your suspicions.

Alan Mido - "Hey Alan? Are you here?" You called as you walked into Vagastrom's garage, glad at least to see that Leo wasn't around in there. If you'd seen him, you were fairly sure you'd try to punch him, even though you knew that wouldn't end up well for your part.

Just as you were about to give up looking for him, Alan popped up behind you.

"Sorry, was down in the pit. One of the students said you were looking for me?" Alan asked, and you nodded.

"I need to talk with you now before you overhear Leo blabbing his mouth." You explained.

"What did he do to you?" Alan asked with concern. You explained the situation to him, and while he didn't fully understand why Leo would be doing this, he was angry at him for doing it.

"I'll talk to him." Alan sighed, knowing he probably wouldn't be able to do anything about it in the end, Leo rarely listened to him.

"I just needed you to know that I would never date him firstly, but that I would also never date someone else behind your back." You told him, and he graced you with a small gentle smile.

"I know you wouldn't, thank you for telling me."

You smiled and hugged him tightly.

Days later, you find out the post has been deleted. If you try to ask Alan about it, he won't admit to anything. However, he strangly seems to owe Tohma a favor now..

Subaru Kagami - "Are you okay, MC? You seemed so panicked in your message." Subaru greeted you as you got into Hotarubi to meet with him.

"I'm okay, it's just, something happened and I need to tell you about it now before you overhear something about it." You explained.

Suba nodded, "Okay, tell me what happened."

You explained to him everything that happened with Leo and he listened in silence.

"I see. This is very improper of him to do something like this to you." Suba said slowly, his expression darkening for a moment, but then you blinked, and his expression was back to normal.

"I just wanted you to know about this so you wouldn't think i was going behind your back to date anyone else, least of all someone like Leo."

Suba gave you a small gentle smile, "I know you wouldn't do something like that. You're not someone like that. Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

"Of course, I love you, I wasn't going to not tell you about this."

"I love you too MC."

Days later you find out the post was deleted. If you try to ask Subaru about it, he'll act surprised at this. "Maybe he realised what he was doing was wrong?" He'll tell you. You're not sure how he did it, but you're certain Suba was behind this.

Shohei Haizono - "Sho? Do you have a minute to talk?" You called out as you entered the food truck.

The truck was still closed, this being the time Sho was normally there prepping meals so you were hoping to find him. Sure enough, he was there chopping vegtables up. He glanced back towards you when he heard your voice.

"This about Leo?" He asked, setting down the knife as he fully turned to look at you. He noticed the look on your face and smirked a bit. "Thought i wouldn't have seen yet? Leo makes me follow him on everything, so I always get notifications when he posts something. No, I don't think you're actually dating, by the way, I know you're not the type."

"I'm so sorry Sho-" you started, but he cut you off.

"Leo was being an ass and totally overstepped, he knows we're together and this has crossed a line. You have nothing to apologize for."

"Still, I feel bad this even happened at all.." You sighed, "And I really had wanted to tell you about it before you found out, I want us to have trust between us and be open about everythingm"

Sho walked over to you and pulled you into his arms, "We do have trust, I trust you completely because the second I saw that post, I knew Leo was lying. Thank you though, for wanting to come tell me."

"Of course, I love you." You mumbled, pressing your face into his chest. Sho chuckled softly.

"Love you too, now I have some food I set aside for you, eat it before it gets cold."

Days later, you notice the post is down, and when you question Sho about it, he just tells you he handled it and to not worry about it.

[candycandy00]

As Heaven is Wide - A Doflamingo x Reader x Corazon Fanfic Part 3

In a world where Doflamingo and Rosinante were raised by Celestial Dragons after their parents died in an accident, they grow up to be notorious world nobles in their own right. And then they buy you at the Human Auction. Now trapped between two very different brothers, you’re shared like a toy. Maybe they’re not so different after all. Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Dubcon. Dead Dove Do Not Eat! Bondage. Master/Slave Dynamics. Violence. Manipulation. Squirting. Size Difference. Rough sex. Humiliation. Pain. Reader is described as little but only by ten feet tall men. This is a brutal, dark fanfic! You’ve been warned!

Any comments/feedback is greatly appreciated! Title comes from a song by Garbage (which really fits the mood of this fic I recommend it!). Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear!

When you get to Rosi’s room, he gently sits you on his bed. You’re still panting, trying to catch your breath after the ordeal you just went through. Rosi paces around a bit, then rushes out of the room so fast he trips and has to scramble to his feet in the hall. He returns with a glass of water and reaches it to you. 

The cool water feels good in your sore mouth and throat as it washes down the lingering taste of Doflamingo. By the time you’ve finished the glass, you’ve calmed down enough to speak. 

“Thanks, Rosi,” you tell him as he takes the empty glass and sits it on a small bedside table. His room is a bit messier than his brother’s, with some clothes strung about here and there and an empty plum jar sitting beside the water glass. Otherwise, it looks very similar to the other bedrooms you’ve seen in this manor. Huge bed, decadent furnishings, fluffy rugs.

He looks flustered as he shakes his head. “No, I didn’t do anything! I was too much of a coward to stop him sooner.”

“But you stopped him before he killed me. That’s something.”

Rosi lets a tiny smile creep over his face. “I won’t let you die here. I promise.”

You shift on the bed, suddenly remembering that you’re naked beneath Rosi’s black feathered coat. You pull it tighter around yourself. 

“Oh! Hold on, I’ll find something you can wear,” he says, going over to his closet and digging around. He pulls out a long sleeve button up shirt and hands it to you, then turns his back to you. 

It’s almost comical, since he’s seen you completely naked more than once now, but you appreciate the gesture. 

You pull on his shirt and button it all the way up. With his ridiculous height, his shirt is long enough on you to be a dress. It’s soft and warm and it smells like him. 

“I’m done,” you tell him, sitting back down on his bed. 

He turns to face you again, his face slightly pink when he looks at you. Is it because you’re wearing his clothes? 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he tells you, standing a few feet away from the bed, maintaining his distance. 

“What is your brother’s deal? I can’t believe he got that mad over a kiss! It’s not like he couldn’t have kissed me anytime he wanted.”

Rosi looks away awkwardly. “Doffy would never kiss a slave. He thinks they’re dirty.” Then his eyes shift back to you. “Oh, but I don’t think that at all!”

“It’s okay, I know you don’t,” you say. 

Rosi sighs and sits down in a chair near his closet, facing the bed. “I think it scares him, on some level, to see me bonding with someone else. I’m the only family he has, so I guess he doesn’t want to risk losing me.”

You mull his words over in your mind, then remember what Doffy said earlier. You hesitate, take a deep breath, then ask Rosi the question you know he doesn’t want to answer. 

“Is it true? What he said about the mermaid?”

His face freezes, then slowly twists as if he’s been stabbed. “He told a twisted version of it, but the basics are true.”

“What really happened?” you ask. 

Rosi pulls out a cigarette and lights it, taking a long drag before starting to talk. “Doffy bought her as a present for me, for my eighteenth birthday. I was young and horny and stupid and naive. So when she started being flirty, and then initiated things… I thought it was love.”

He pauses and pulls the cigarette from his mouth, letting it dangle between two fingers as he looks down, watching the smoke. “For the next few weeks, we were… intimate. A lot. It never even occurred to me that something was off about the whole situation. It was my first ‘relationship’, and maybe I just wanted it to all be true.”

After another pause, you prod him gently to continue. “So what happened?”

He looks at you, and he seems embarrassed as he goes on. “One day out of the blue she just started crying and eventually told me the truth. Doffy threatened her into pretending to be in love with me. I don’t know if he actually thought he was doing me a favor, or if it was all some sick game, but the fact was she never wanted any of it. I was horrified. Everything we did… everything I did to her…”

He trails off, putting one hand over his eyes. 

You stand up and walk over to him, lightly touching his shoulder. “None of that was your fault, Rosi. And she must have known that, she must have realized you genuinely cared about her. Otherwise, she would’ve been afraid to tell you the truth. Even in that situation, she felt like she could trust you.”

“That trust was misplaced,” Rosi says, “because I got her killed.”

You draw back slightly. “What?”

“I tried to free her. I thought it was the only way I could begin to make up for what she endured. I snuck her out, and paid a man with a small ship in Sabaody to escort her back to Fishman Island. I didn’t realize Doffy had servants watching us. He blew up the ship before it ever left port.”

“That’s awful!” you say, “But it still wasn’t your fault. You tried your best to help her.”

He finally gives you a weak smile. “I won’t make the same mistake again. This time, when I free you, I’m coming with you.”

You’d nearly forgotten about his promise to help you escape. After hearing his story about the mermaid, you’re even more uneasy about the whole thing. But you can’t stay here forever. Maybe… if Doffy wasn’t so cruel to you… but no. He’s going to end up killing you anyway. 

That night, Rosi insists you sleep in his bed while he takes the floor. He never touches you, probably assuming you were in no mood for such things after what you went through tonight. He would be right that you want nothing sexual right now, but you wouldn’t mind being held. 

Your mind flashes back to being in Doflamingo’s bed, to his arm draped over you, his massive, firm body behind you. Why do you suddenly miss that? Doffy almost killed you! 

These brothers are driving you mad. 

*******

You wondered if Doffy would skip a few days of calling for you, if he would have even the tiniest shred of shame for what he did to you, but he calls for you the very next day. Guess he’s shameless after all. 

When you walk into his office, you don’t bow. You simply stand there looking at him. He’s standing near his desk, and after a moment, he says, “Not going to kneel for me?”

You keep your eyes on his face. “You said we were past that… Doffy.”

There’s a pause where you think he might kill you on the spot. He’s deathly silent and expressionless for several seconds, then suddenly laughs. “You never fail to entertain me!”

You almost breathe a sigh of relief, but within seconds he’s crossed the room to you, tore your dress over your head, and dragged you to his desk to bend you over it. 

He takes you right there, roughly enough to convince you he was actually offended by what you said. His hand presses your body down against the smooth wooden surface, sliding up your spine to settle at the back of your neck. 

“Do you know why I removed your collar?” he asks, right in the middle of fucking you so hard the heavy desk is wobbling. Your splayed legs are dangling off the edges, not long enough to touch the floor. 

Your face is turned sideways, one side smushed against the wood, one side able to look back at him. “N-no,” you mutter, barely able to speak. 

His hand on your neck tightens. “Because I like this better,” he says. “I can feel your pulse, feel how fast your heart is beating, how terrified you are, and all I have to do is give a little squeeze and your tight little pussy clamps down on me!”

It’s already hard to breathe in this position, but when he grips your neck like this, you feel your airway constricting. Your body starts to panic, your heart racing, your body clenching. 

“There we go!” he says, thrusting all the way in each time. He keeps up the brutal rhythm until he cums, shooting every drop inside you. Then he releases your neck and pulls you up by your hair. This positions you on your knees on his desk, him behind you and his enormous cock still buried inside you. 

His free hand reaches around and slips between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it aggressively. Your legs begin to tremble, tears flooding your eyes. This is all too much! 

The white hot pleasure is building, making you cry out, making you go weak as you cum. You almost collapse back onto the desk, but Doffy’s arms wrap around you, holding you against him until your body stops shaking. 

Somehow, even though he’s a cruel monster, he always seems to provide exactly what your body needs. At least when he’s not actively hurting you. 

Two days later, after you’ve just finished sucking him off and pulling your dress back on, a servant quietly walks into Doffy’s office. It’s strange that he didn’t knock, even stranger that he doesn’t announce himself or make a sound. Doffy is facing his desk, reading some sort of document, his back to the servant. 

Then, to your shock, the servant holds up a gun and seemingly aims it straight at Doffy. Your eyes go wide as you look back and forth between them, wondering what you should do. The servant holds the gun steady, his finger starting to pull the trigger. 

Your body moves on its own. That’s the only explanation. You rush over, pushing Doflamingo out of the way while screaming, “Watch out!”

Huh? Should it be this easy to push a man of his size?

Both of you end up on the floor, you lying on top of him, your eyes squeezed shut while you wait for the sound of the gun firing. Only… it never comes. You carefully raise your head and look back, where the servant is standing with the gun held limply by his side. 

You hear Doflamingo laugh, and your panicked eyes shift to his face. 

“I thought you’d either let him shoot me or call out to warn me,” he says, grinning broadly, “but I never expected you to push me out of the way!”

Your face freezes when you realize this was all planned. “Were you… testing me?”

He laughs again, apparently very amused. “I thought it would be fun to see how you’d react. As always, you didn’t disappoint me.”

You stare at him, at his stupid smiling face, and feel the first tears start to drip from your eyes. You climb off him and get to your feet. “I was scared! For you!” you say fiercely, and he stops laughing, but the grin never fades. Your bottom lip quivers as you glare angrily. “You can play with my body all you like, but don’t play with my heart!”

With that, you storm out of the room, nearly knocking the servant over. It’s the first time you’ve ever left Doffy’s presence of your own will without being dismissed. 

You expect some kind of punishment for your outburst, and it comes, but not in a form you imagined. 

The next day Doffy has you brought to his bedroom, where he keeps you for hours. He spends the entire time making you cum over and over, his fingers overstimulating you until your mind is on the verge of going completely blank. 

“You don’t mind me playing with your body, right?” he asks, his hand between your shaky legs as he holds you in his lap. 

At night, as exhaustion wins out over discomfort, you start to drift off to sleep while wrapped in his arms. Just before you resign yourself to oblivion, it occurs to you that Doffy never got off even once tonight. How strange, that you were the only one receiving pleasure, even if it quickly became too much. 

Two nights later, you decide to go see Rosi. You haven’t seen him since you spent the night in his room, and you’ve figured out that Doffy only gets angry when it seems like you and Rosi are sneaking around while he’s away. 

You stand in the hallway and knock on Rosi’s door. At first, you hear nothing, and you wonder if he’s asleep. You decide to knock one more time, and that’s when you hear a series of thumps and bangs. The door flies open, and you’re hit with a cloud of cigarette smoke. You cough and wave your hand to disperse the smoke. 

“Oh, hey, come in,” you hear Rosi say. When the smoke has cleared enough, you look up at him. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of white pants that look like pajamas. Your eyes can’t help roaming over his pale, sculpted torso as he steps back to give you room to walk in. 

His room is a bit messier than you remember. There are at least ten full ashtrays sitting around, several empty bottles of various kinds of alcohol, and more clothes strewn about. 

“I haven’t seen you lately,” you say, sitting down on his bed while he takes the chair. “I was worried about you.”

“Sorry,” he says with an uneasy smile. “I’ve been keeping to myself the past few days.”

You look around the room. “I can tell. Does it bother you for me to come see you?”

“No, of course not! You can come anytime!” 

The two of you chat for a little while, avoiding the topics of Doflamingo or the plan to escape. Eventually you ask a question that’s been on your mind lately. 

“Rosi, how do you feel about me?”

He seems to tense up, his face turning pink. “I thought I already told you,” he says awkwardly. 

“Not exactly,” you tell him. “You said you were falling for me.”

His eyes meet yours. “I finished falling already. I’ve hit the bottom and there’s no climbing back up.”

You stand up and walk over to him. “So why do you barely touch me?” you ask, standing right beside his chair, your legs brushing his. 

“I just thought, with everything Doffy is doing to you, you wouldn’t want to be touched,” he says. 

You smile at him. “Usually you’d be right, but every now and then I’d like to be touched by the man I’ve fallen for.”

His eyes widen. “Do you want to be touched now?”

You step around to stand directly in front of him, between his long legs. You nod as he leans forward in his chair. He slips his hands under your dress, sliding them up your body, over your hips, your waist, and pausing to grope your breasts. 

He stands up then and picks you up. Your legs automatically wrap around his torso as he carries you back to the bed. While still holding you like a doll, he sit on the bed and shifts until his back is against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him and you in his lap. 

You kiss him while his hands continue to roam under your dress, your fingers raking through his soft blonde hair. You can feel his erection through his thin cotton pants, and you feel a sense of relief when he reaches down to free it. 

Looking down at his massive cock, it’s still a little intimidating even after being fucked by Doffy so many times. By your estimation they’re roughly the same size, so you should be able to handle it. 

Rising up on your knees, you position yourself just right and then sink down onto him. He groans at the feeling of your slick, tight pussy enveloping his shaft. You take him as far as you can without pain, and that’s when it occurs to you why he chose this position: so you could choose how deep he goes. 

Ahh, he really is a sweetheart. 

As you begin to ride him, you pull the front of your thin white dress up and hold the fabric with your teeth while your hands grip his thighs. You want to give him a good view of your pussy sliding up and down him, of your tits bouncing as you move. 

His hands start out on your waist, then move around to squeeze your ass before gliding up to your chest. He’s breathing hard, his eyes focusing on the spot where your bodies connect. 

“Can I touch it?” he asks in a breathy voice. 

You know what he’s asking. His gaze is fixed on your swollen, sensitive clit. “Yes… gently…” you breathe out. 

With one hand he reaches down, using his thumb to lightly rub the little bundle of nerves. You moan, sliding a little further down on him. His eyes flick from your pussy to your face, then back again, as if he wants to see the pleasure in your expression. 

His thumb moves quicker, applying a little more pressure. You moan again, your back arching. He watches, enraptured by the sight of you, his cock throbbing inside you. 

You cum, squiring all over his chest, clenching him before you let out a shuddering sigh. In your lustful haze, you sink down even further, until he’s fully sheathed inside you. 

Rosi leans forward, kissing your breasts, your neck, your face. “You feel so good,” he whispers into your ear. 

And then he tenses up, his muscles tightening under his skin as his cum shoots from his cock in great spurts, filling you to the brim. 

Later, you’re lying beside him in bed, his arm around you, when he drops a bomb. 

“Doffy is leaving again in three days. That’s when we’ll escape.”

You look up at him in surprise. You didn’t expect it to happen so soon. “Are you sure we can get away?”

“If Doffy‘s not here, yeah. The servants and guards can spy on me and report to him, but they can’t stop me from leaving. I’m still a Celestial Dragon. Even if they call him on the snail, we’ll be long gone before he can get back here.”

“Where will we go?” you ask.

He smiles. “Anywhere we want. We can live in a quiet little village on a small island, where they barely even know what Celestial Dragons are. Or we can go to a big city, blend in with the population, disappear into the crowd. We’ll go where Doffy can’t find us.”

You hesitate for a moment, then rest your head on his chest. You should be excited, thrilled, but something is gnawing at the back of your mind. 

“I feel a little bad for him,” you say in a quiet voice. “He’ll be all alone when you leave.”

Rosi doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, then he sighs. “I know. But he brought this on himself. If we stay, he’ll end up killing you. He might end up killing me.”

You snuggle in against him. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I guess it’s naive of me to wish all three of us could be happy.”

Rosi doesn’t reply to that, only pulls you closer. 

Finally the planned day arrives. Doffy leaves on his ship as usual, and after watching him sail away, you feel a sense of sorrow. He’s a monster. You’re well aware of this. But somehow you feel sad that you didn’t get to say goodbye. 

That night, Rosi comes to get you and lead you outside. There’s a small boat waiting at the port, nestled between huge ships owned by various Celestial Dragon families. Rosi walks confidently to his boat, and is stopped by no one. A few guards simply nod as he walks by, and some men working on cleaning the docks or repairing ships all immediately bow when they notice him. 

The two of you climb into the little boat and he unties the rope securing it to the dock. You still feel nervous, even as you begin to sail away from the Holy Land.  

You sit beside Rosi, who smiles at you. “We’ll stop at a nearby island and buy a bigger boat,” he says. 

You nod, looking around and realizing the night is quite foggy. There’s something unsettling about it, something keeping you on edge. 

Not even an hour into your journey, a huge b ship emerges from the fog right in front of you. Immediately, you recognize it as Doffy’s ship. 

Beside you, Rosi curses and stands up in alarm. 

Up high, standing on the deck and looking down at you is Doflamingo, wearing a blood red suit. He’s grinning in that terrifying way as he says, “What’s this? Going for a little moonlight boat ride? You should have invited me!”

“Doffy,” Rosi begins, “just let us-“

“Shut the fuck up, Rosi.” 

Doffy said the words with such authority, such venom and such finality, that Rosi falls silent. 

Then Doffy’s face turns toward you. “As for our pretty little toy, you’ll wish I’d killed you that night in my room.”

You look back at him in horror, then to Rosi, who looks terrified. 

Doffy looks at someone behind him, probably his personal guards, and says, “Bring them to me. They’re both going to have a long night.”

[2000sangel]

Hii! May I request some Tenna headcanons with a lightner reader who helped patch him up after the “Incident”? Maybe with a little pining? Gender neutral reader works just fine.

Thank you for your time!

HEY waves excitedly...I loved this request! I fear I might've misinterpreted it a bit though, so if you want a continuation or something my inbox is open for you to tell me, and specify if you wanted something else T_T !!

Still, I hope you enjoy regardless!

WARNING for Ch. 3 ending spoilers !!

⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。

Tenna x Lightner Reader - Patching him up Headcanons

✰ You understand the anger the others must be feeling towards the Knight, you really do. Though you can’t find it in yourself to run after them, at least not until you’ve made sure that Tenna is somehow okay. You won’t be left behind, you figure, so it’s only fair that he doesn’t either.

✰ By actual miracle, he’s still holding on when you find him, and although the thought of healing somebody in such a bad shape scares you you push your insecurities aside and run to his side instead, your hands glistening a soft shade of green before you’ve even grazed his body. 

✰ Thanks to the hard practice you’ve put into healing, since you feel bad about Ralsei always doing most of the work, the spell you cast is enough to keep him conscious and even responsive while you rack your brains trying to figure out where to reconnect or plug things, helping yourself do the first thing with a weaker form of the previous spell. 

✰ At some point, you’re surprised to hear Tenna speak: it’s hushed and he’s clearly still in pain, but you can make out his words, thanking you for not leaving him to die and telling you to take it slow as his whole body aches. You have other plans though, the confirmation that your magic isn’t strong enough to heal him properly pushing you to try ever harder; you sweat through your spells, your hands shaky and breath almost as laboured as Tenna’s, and though he feels bad you’re going through this for him…he doesn’t think anyone has ever cared for him in such a way. It makes his entire body warm up at the thought that you care this much.

✰ The sudden rise in temperature confuses you and, admittedly, scares you a bit; you ask if everything is okay and if you’re hurting him since he’s slightly overheating, and he can’t help but curse his body for doing that, and himself for not being able to stop it. 

✰ It’s slow, it’s a bit agonizing and filled with reassurance from you that it’s going to be fine…but after what feels like hours of fixing slashed cables and messing with buttons that he guides you through, he’s…okay. 

✰ He still feels a bit out of it, but it’s much better than before; you’ve managed to reattach his arms good enough that he can move them around even if with a bit of struggle, and anything else that was less serious and needed manutention has been taken care of. You need to recompose yourself a bit before doing anything else though, the strain you’ve gone through evident on your features. With a slight blush you lean against his long legs, which he’s almost brought to his chest from his sitting position, and let yourself slide downwards until your legs aren’t supporting your full weight anymore.

✰ For a while you both just sit there, both of your bodies hurting for different reasons, and you don’t notice it about each other but the close contact makes you both turn your heads away just slightly. 

✰ Thanks to the Fun Gang, Tenna gets healed to completion later on and he also gets to move to Castle Town, where Ralsei sincerely congratulates you for all the healing you were able to perform without any help or guidance. You’re weirdly proud of yourself, just like how everyone else is proud of you.

✰ As a ‘thank you’ for caring, Tenna decides that the right thing to do would be nothing else than confess the feelings he’s developed towards you; there’s no hiding it, after all, that if you’ve put so much effort into saving him, you must care at least as deeply as he cares for you.

✰ He’s nervous to even start a conversation the next time you visit him though, abandonment issues holding him back, but the way he tenderly holds your salving hands into his tells you everything you need to know, and you simply tell him to look your way before explaining that you love him, too, and he has no reason to be shy about his feelings…you would like nothing more than to hear him say what’s on his mind. You don’t plan on forgetting about him or leaving him anytime soon, if ever, you reassure him. 

[prettysatomii]

Gon wouldn't stop pestering Killua about you. It was starting to get on Killuas nerves due to the sheer volume of questions.

“Do you like her?” Gon would enthusiastically ask, waiting for the answer. Even with how blind Gon was to love, he could see it written all over Killua.

He would just grumble instead of answering the question. Too embarrassed about his own feelings, to be frank you were the first to make him feel that way. It confused him to no end.

Eventually Gon gets him to open up about the situation.

“She keeps on texting me,” He sighed out glancing at his phone flashing on and off. Opening his phone to text you back before shutting it down once more. Gon curiously glanced over with an eyebrow raised, trying to decipher his best friend's feelings.

“Is that like…A bad thing-“

“No.”

“Do you like her??” Gon asked once more, smiling brightly. Casually peeking over to see what the two of you talked about. Killua responded quite fast with you.

Killua stared at the message he last sent before swiping up to re-read. He huffed, not wanting to wait more than a minute for you to respond.

“Do I like her?” He repeated Gon's question, “No, definitely.” A faint pink coated his face as he covered it with his hands.

Gon just blankly stared at him while Killua tweaked out. No, definitely? Was that a definite no, or a different way of saying yes?

“Is that a yes? You do like her then!” Killua flicked Gon's forehead. He was embarrassed and embracing the fact he had feelings for you while Gon was asking stupid questions. Killua thought that the flick was well deserved.

“Of course I do, idiot!” He murmured after, “You don’t have to be so loud about it geez.” Killua looked around all while Gon rubbed his forehead.

“What if she hears?” Glancing over his shoulders scanning the perimeters.

“She’s not even here,” Gon said, but also looking around to see if he saw you. Which he didn’t. “Want me to tell her that you like her?”

Killua's face scrunched, his eyes twitching. “Don’t even think about it.” Gon laughed at his expression, “You look funny, but I won’t.”

Gon lied, He did tell you. He sent you a message saying that Killua had feelings for you. Told you to be bold about it because Killua would take years trying to confess.

It made you nervous, but it was expected. I mean, it wasn't like Killua was good at hiding his feelings for you. He was always flustered around you, let you snatch a few of his chocolates, even tug at his hair without much complaint.

He definitely likes you.

You soon responded back to killua after deleting and rephrasing your message multiple times. Straightforward was the best. That's what Gon said, right?

‘I have feelings for you, Killua.’ That was typed with trembling fingers, but he didn't need to know that. You threw your phone to the opposite side of your bed, regretting your decision you rushed back to your phone.

Seen. 1 minute. 2 minutes. 3 minutes. 4 minutes.

You were about to kill Gon.

Killua on the other hand was starstruck, staring at the message. Gon had to slap the back of his head to get through to him. You would think he was rejecting you if he didn't answer. With that, Killua typed fast but never sent anything. Rewriting and erasing everything he typed, just like you.

“Just say you have feelings for her too!” Gon rushed him before snatching the phone, “I’ll do it for you since you can’t.” The blood in Killua's face drained as he registered what Gon did.

But he couldn’t really be mad when he saw your quick answer.

’I was nervous that you weren’t going to respond but I’m glad that you feel that way about me too.’

He glared at Gon before deciding to let it slide. His fingers clicked at the letters, phone up in his face, smile plastered.

‘I was going to respond faster but Gon was doing something Stupid so I needed to help him.’

Killua lied, trying to play into a nonchalant act. ‘But I can stop by wherever you are. We can talk or whatever you want.’

Inspo- Stephanie by Nafeesisboujee

[lizzieisright]

Moon peppers (5)

(1) (2) (3) (4)

were!Abby x witch!reader

Summary: Abby runs away from her (former) pack and into your forest. You're not happy with your new (woods?)mate.

Tags: fantasy au, sloppy worldbuilding, fem!reader, alpha!abby, witch!reader (so not an omega), sentient forest, stubborn idiots in love who annoy each other.

Notes: thank you guys for still wanting to read this story! This chapter, Abby gets to see who you are and decides if she likes it (or not). Also, steam bath is similar to sauna, but it's like, 80% humid in there, and reader's steam bath is something like this.

Also-also! Since it's been more than a year since last update, I've started a new taglist, so if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please.

Taglist: yikez-on-bikez

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Abby wakes up with a stiff neck and an annoying realisation of where she is. The sky is grey and she is a little cold - you were right about the blankets - so she pulls one up to cover her shoulders, sighing contentedly from the warmth. She feels quite calm for some unknown reason, so Abby lets herself lie on your sofa and just exist in her new ridiculous reality. She just ran from her pack, started a feud with a witch, died and got revived by the said witch - it’s a lot to wrap her mind around. Abby is not even sure if she feels like herself yet, and she is not sure if she can evaluate her threats yet - being alive means knowing there’s a pack of wolves that will come for her throat again. And for the witch’s throat too, if they connect the dots. But now she is here, cosy under her blanket. 

Abby doses off again and wakes up only when she hears your slow shuffling. 

“Morning.” You tell her and Abby opens her eyes, meeting yours. Nope, still creepy luminescent eyes, nothing changed. “Do you wake up hating the world or is it just me?”

Abby ignores you. She sits on the sofa and stretches her neck, trying to listen to your movements, but it’s either you’re quiet or there’s something wrong with her hearing. Abby takes a sniff and realises with horror that she can’t smell you. You do have a scent and she knows it, but it seems like her senses grew impossibly weak. It makes Abby anxious and she opens her mouth before she can stop herself, but she is desperate to be reassured, desperate to know death didn’t take away her abilities.

“Why can’t I smell you?” Abby asks, scared. 

“Because I shower?”

“Fuck you. You know what I mean.” Abby growls and it seems to wake you up.

“Uh. You mean your enhanced senses? Well, I’d assume the parts of your brain which are responsible for this are not healed yet. Give it a few days.”

Shit, Abby thinks and rubs her face - she isn’t sure how she will survive these few days without her senses and you around. How is she supposed to know if you’re actually decent? 

“Actually, on the topic of showers. Come with me.”

Abby frowns but follows you, suspicious. You roll your eyes and show her into a small room that leads to another room. 

It's wooden, just like the rest of the house, but the smell here is different enough for Abby's weak nose to pick up: it's really wooden and moist. There's dry wormwood collected in bunches on the walls that gives the room another layer of smell and Abby likes it. The wormwood makes her chuckle - it's such a stereotypical thing to have for a witch. Towels and a few wooden basins are on the bench next to a small table, and the morning light comes through a little window.

“This is a steam bath. Have you had one before?” Abby shakes her head, even though she has an overall idea of it.

“The one where you pour cold water on hot rocks?” 

You nod and open the small door on the side: there's a brick stove with rocks on top, two-level benches and a few big barrels that Abby can fit in if she wants. 

“I don't heat it up every day, so the water in the barrels is cold right now. I'll heat one up for you, and then you can mix it to the temperature you like.”

Abby gets tense when you mention using your magic and you notice.

“It will take a good few hours to heat the room up, bathing day is a whole ritual, and we don't have time today. If you'd like to do it the human way, you're welcome to do it later. Right now we're doing it my way.”

Oh, Abby chuckles to herself: she finally hit the nerve. You're not very patient, and it's amusing to see you try. You stomp to one of the barrels and push your hand into the cold water. Abby watches you silently and waits: in half a minute the water starts to bubble and boil, the steam covering your face. You pull your hand out and stomp back to the pre-bath room. 

“Leave your clothes here, take a basin with you and wash yourself. There's a few bars of soap, take what you want.” With this you leave the room.

Abby laughs at your outburst, but does as she's told: she takes her dirty pants and shredded shirt off, grabs the basin and goes into the steam room. It's warm inside, but not warm enough to not make Abby hurry up. She uses a jug to mix the water and when the temperature is good enough for her, Abby pours a jug over herself, sighing in relief: it feels good to wash everything away after this awful week. The water splashes on the floor and flows down through the gaps between the floorboards, and Abby doesn't pay attention. She takes the first soap bar she sees and starts washing herself: her greasy hair, her poor scalp that itches after being pulled into a braid for so long, every inch of her body until she feels clean. Abby washes the soap off, and it takes three refills of her basin to wash her hair off. 

Abby returns to the pre-bath room and dries herself. Then she looks at her dirty clothes and she doesn't want to put them on, so she wraps the towel around herself. You probably don't have anything that will fit her, but Abby decides to try anyway: she looks for you around the house and finds you in the still room. You're putting bottles and small jars into your sack, and you seem to be in a better mood.

“Hey.” Abby starts awkwardly. “Listen, my clothes are all gross. Do you have anything that can fit me?”

You raise your brow at her, and Abby rolls her eyes: yes, she has been rude and distrusting the whole time and now she is asking you for aid. It is ungrateful and arrogant, she knows. 

“Well, no. I can, however, mend it. With magic.” You say just to be a bitch, and Abby rolls her eyes. She doesn't like the idea, but she doesn't have a choice. 

“Yes, I figured.”

“Bring it here.” You sigh and Abby gives you her torn up clothes.

It takes you a few minutes of holding Abby's clothes to get them all cleaned up and whole again. Abby thanks you and goes to change before you two have to go to the village. 

“Do you want me to put a protective spell on you?” You ask as you finish closing your sac. Abby blinks, trying to remember why the fuck she needs a protective spell, but then it dawns on her. She breathes out to calm her nerves and nods. 

You slide your palm in front of her face, one of your tattoos lights up and Abby feels nothing - no tingling, no pain or warmth, just nothing. 

“Did it work? I don't feel anything.” 

“Of course it worked. I'm not some kind of amateur.” 

Abby decides that silence is a good enough gratitude.

You look like a traveller with your sac, and Abby laughs at you in her head, but says nothing. The road to the village is silent except for your laboured breathing - the sac might be heavy, and even with Abby's weak hearing it's annoying. She is surprised you don't take breaks, but she suspects you're just being stubborn because of her. 

Abby has always favoured her comfort more than her stubbornness, so she stops with an annoyed huff and looks at you pointedly. 

“Give me your fucking bag, you're gonna die before we reach the village.” 

“Fuck off.” You say, but after a few minutes you silently take off your sac and hand it to Abby. She chuckles and puts it on her shoulder, not bothered by the weight. 

The next half an hour is spent silently walking through the forest and then the fields - Abby tries to understand where they are, but without her senses there in not much she can do except deducing that they're in the opposite (or just far enough) direction from her pack. Being a stubborn witch-hater that she is, Abby doesn't ask you about it.

The village is big and busy; there's people everywhere doing all kinds of work: sellers, farmers, housekeepers, even artists, all of them are moving and working like it's a town near the capital and not a village. You seem pretty comfortable walking the street and people say hi to you like you're welcome. Like your eyes don't show what you are. Abby fumes: how the fuck someone who is so dangerous and who comes from the cruellest creatures in all lands (not mentioned absolutely illegal to show their faces anywhere near humans) can be treated with such warmth and kindness? Why the fuck do you deserve it?

Abby gets pulled out of here internal spiral by a bunch of children that surround you like overeager puppies.

“Who is this lady?”

“You have drawings on your skin?”

“Why are you glowing?” 

“Will they wash off?”

“Did you bring the flower milk?” 

Abby is overwhelmed with their questions, terrified that they dared to ask you about your tattoos, but you seem to be used to this kind of interrogation. You hold your hand up and wait until all the kids are ready to listen to you.

“Did you help your mom with the wool?” The boy who asked about flower milk averts your eyes in shame. “Yeah, thought so. Go help your mom and I might find a spare bottle for you.”

Other kids look at you coyly, not daring to ask for their bottles, but not wanting to leave without them. Abby assumes they think all healers are weird looking and they don't understand how dangerous you are since you're a witch, and this is why they dare to ask something from you. But you give them the bottles after the lazy boy leaves and tell them you won't bring more if they share with that boy. Abby snorts at this and you elbow her. 

“Who is this lady?” One of the shy girls asks again and Abby can't help her smile: kids are so curious no amount of shyness will stop them.

“This is my guest, Abby.” You introduce her and Abby says hi to the children, going along with your lie. 

“You look very strong, Abby.” The shy girl says, putting a confident face even though it's obvious she is flustered.

“No way, my dad's definitely stronger!” One of the boys huffs and Abby tries not to laugh. Unless this kid's dad is not a human, Abby is sure she is stronger. No, she totally doesn't want to prove she is stronger to some kid.

The kids leave just as suddenly as they appeared, already losing interest in the newcomer and being more concerned about where they should go and play. You sigh in relief and motion Abby to follow you. 

"You're popular." Abby says drily and she can hear you rolling your eyes. "Do they know what you are?"

"Do they- If you haven't noticed, my eyes are always as inhuman as they can get, so yes, everyone here knows I'm a witch." You say, irritated. "I wish I could ask you what's your deal, but believe me, I am acutely aware of the reputation my kind has. And how much it is deserved."

Abby doesn't get to answer you since you start banging on the door of the house you walked up to. The rough male voice tells you to come in and you do. The house is small and a little dusty: you're met by an old man who smells of leather and fire; he is tall and strong even in his years and Abby can't help but to get vigilant. 

“Haven't seen you in a while.” The old man looks you up and down, clearly judging the way you look, and you shrug. "What is up with these drawings of yours?"

"I've always had them, your eyesight is shit."

"Oi, don't bullshit me. Got into trouble?"

"No. I live in the woods, my only trouble is tripping over the roots. Just found new meditation, it brings all of this back." You say with the smile and no way this man who is scarily perceptive believes you, but he lets it go. “I came a few days ago, but you weren't home. How's your head?” 

“Doesn't bother me anymore.” 

You follow the man into the workshop and he sits down in front of the table: there's a lot of instruments and leather, soles and wood. 

“Your leg?”

“The fuckin’ thing doesn't let me sleep.” The old man grumbles. You nod and sit in front of him, your hands hovering above his knee: to the visible eye nothing is happening, but Abby watches old man relax. She is lost in her thoughts when he opens his eyes and addresses her. “What's your name?”

Abby tenses in surprise - and she stays tense, carefully thinking what she can tell this man.

“Abby.” 

"Coen." Abby nods, and Coen looks at you. "Your friend?"

“A guest.” You say shortly.

"Do you happen to know a thing or two about meditation, Abby?" It's an obvious bait and Abby squeezes her fists.

"No."

Coen hums.

"At least you still have your arm." He snorts and Abby stares at him, confused. You look sternly at Coen, clearly displeased in a way a parent is displeased with a child. "What? You thought I wouldn't figure it out when you show up glowing like a sun with a girl who can probably lift me and not break a sweat? You're a were, aren't you?" The last is addressed to Abby and she immediately freezes.

"Damn you're nosy. Old people and gossip, I swear." You shake your head like it's nothing, like a random villager figuring out Abby is a werewolf is nothing. "How is your leg now?"

"Like new. Thanks, kid." Coen stands up and goes to his drawers, looking for something. He returns with a pair of shoes and hands them to Abby. "Here. Were or not, you need shoes and the ones you have on? Utter shit."

It's true: there's some holes here and there, the leather is all dull and thin and soles are torn in a few places. Abby mumbles her thanks, so confused by this whole interaction she can't even process it until you two leave Coen and walk out on the street again. Abby holds the shoes awkwardly, and then the whole fiasco with being discovered comes back to her.

"You said the spell worked!" Abby hisses in your ear. "He figured me out in seconds!"

"The spell has worked!" You hiss back. "It hides you from harm, and getting a free pair of shoes does not count as harm! People who are not supposed to know about you will not know about you even if I start parading you and shouting your name!"

"You're so full of yourself!" Abby huffs and you throw her a dirty look.

"Fuck off."

So the first patient visit is a total shit show.

You visit three more people and these visits are calmer than Coen's: people greet you with smiles, confide their problems to you and you help them. Genuinely, without asking for something in return - without deals. Abby doesn't know what to do with this information - it just doesn't add up with what she thinks a witch should be. She wishes she could just be grateful to you for saving her life like the villagers who are grateful for your help; she wishes she could feel at ease around you just like the kids earlier, but she can't.

People are grateful: they give you meat, and eggs and vegetables, everything they can offer, they give you as thanks. Even kids give you something - and it seems sweet, but Abby doesn't trust it.

"Why are they giving you all of this?" Abby lifts the sac up. "Out of the kindness of their hearts?"

"Yes. Healers are treated well, especially if it's working. Do wolves need healers or your natural ability to heal is enough?" You're changing the topic, but somehow Abby doesn't mind.

"Only kids need real healers. We need healers only if there's a big chance of dying, or an infection. Everything else can be healed with a few herbs."

"Lucky you. What do you need to cook? The market is close."

Abby nods and decides to stay on the topic as you walk through the market.

"So their gifts have nothing to do with deals?"

"They're deals. Everything is, if you think about it. I heal your brain, you cook me dinner. Tris fixes my breeches, I fix her shoulder."

Abby blinks as realisation dawns on her, and she chuckles, amused by your line of thought.

"This is why you don't blood bind? Because you found the loophole?" The loophole that is: be kind and kindness will come back, as ridiculous as it sounds.

"Oh, darling, this is not even the fun one." You smile, and it's a nice smile. Abby can't help but smile back: her heart feels lighter. "It's better this way. I'm not- I'm not dangerous."

You say it like it's hard to believe even for yourself, and you look down at your tattoos like they will prove you wrong, but Abby finds herself sympathising with you.

"I'm glad. You know, that you don't hurt anyone."

"Thanks. Not like I asked for your approval, but thanks." You're teasing her, a bright smile on your face, and Abby huffs, but smiles back. "Do you need onions?"

Abby nods and goes to pick some up.

It's a small, hesitant truce, but it is one. Abby can work with that. Abby can work with you.

Finally, the wolf lets you breathe: Abby's judgmental stare and little disapproving huffs were getting on your nerves, but it seems like your good behaviour (or whatever the wolf likes to call it in her blonde head) calmed her down. You are irritated, but you don't blame her: like many people who encountered witches, it probably cost her something. She probably lost someone to the blood bound, and it's smart to not trust you right away, especially since you two are bound anyway.

But Abby is more friendly after your talk: she answers your questions about foods and almost doesn't flinch when you tell her how potion making is different from cooking, since the taste is the last thing you're concerned with. It's strange, but you have an urge to share things with her, like that you picked up potions from your mom, and how one of them blew up in her face once and she was bold for a month because of it. You hold your tongue for now, since you're not this desperate to feel seen by a (kinda) hostile werewolf. You have friends.

But you feel a small, annoying hope that one day Abby can be your friend too. That is, if she stays here long enough, and you have no idea what is she running from, or even if she is the good guy in the story - after all, she was killed, and you bet it was for nothing. And she is also worried about being found out again, so who knows what happened to her. Who knows what did she do to get herself killed.

While you're walking through the market, you feel the familiar freeze of magic and you whip your head around just to see Caitlyn over the herbs stall, the one that Abby will definitely want to see. Caitlyn sees you, smiles at you and then her eyes connect the dots between you and a buff wolf next to you. You thank the graces that Vi is not here, because even Caitlyn shocked face is a lot.

You wince in response, trying to communicate that this a "long story, tell you later" and you hope for the Cait's elven grace and the ability to read the room to not come over to you. Thankfully, Caitlyn nods and goes on with her shopping, while you sigh in relief.

"Your patient?" Abby asks. Of course she fucking noticed. Of course she doesn't need her enhanced senses to be observant.

"A friend."

Abby definitely wants to say something mean, something like "you have friends?", but she bites her tongue, and you appreciate it. Being civil is not easy.

"She is not human. I felt it."

"She is an elf. Their magic is cold." You say offhandedly as you pick up some grapes and pay.

"Why is she here?"

"No idea. Never asked, never will ask."

"This is a weird-ass place." Abby murmurs. "Humans living alongside elves and a witch? Crazy."

"Where do you live? In the woods?"

"That's rich coming from you." Abby chuckles. "Our settlements are usually away from humans. We sometimes share the hunting territory, but that's about it."

"So you live in packs?"

"Yeah."

Maybe it has something to do with the animal that weres turn into: Sevika is a bear and bears are solitary creatures, while Abby is a wolf, so it makes sense she has a pack, just like Cait told you.

"Why do you live in the woods?"

"They invited me." You shrug and Abby stares at you. "Yeah, I know. I lied in the bog and they asked me to stay. I take care of it."

Abby doesn't respond, clearly baffled by the weirdness of it all, and you lead her back to the hut.

You still talk a little, both curious and tentative to share more than you want: you learn a little about wolves' culture, Abby learns a little about the village and your healing practices. Nothing too personal, but it is way nicer than bickering and being annoyed by each other. It's nice, because it's been a long time since you were able to talk to someone new.

When you enter the forest, you gasp: it's so full of pure love that you want to cry, but instead you run to the closest tree and hug it with all you have. It's rare for the woods to show their love so publicly, and you enjoy every moment of it, murmuring your gratitude to the tree bark. Their love feels like your mom's smile, kind and proud, and for a moment you feel like a kid again.

Something good happened, something like new life coming into the world, or some awful thing mended. Or both, you smile into the tree. You and Abby were friendly after today, and the hostility was almost gone. The forest was happy and proud of both of you.

When you turn back to Abby, she just stares at you, utterly confused. What the fuck is happening in this place? Why were you hugging the tree?

"You don't feel it?" You ask, and Abby checks, but she feels nothing.

"What?"

"The forest? Shit, come here, give me your hand."

The situation is so bizarre, and Abby is so confused that she actually listens. She slowly makes her way to you and puts her big hand in your creepy-glowy-tattood one, and then you touch the tree with the other hand, and Abby is flooded. There is so much love, paternal love, that Abby fully gets why you hugged the tree. Shit, just for a second, she wants to hug you. Without noticing, she gently squeezes your fingers instead, and there's something so unbelievably fond in both of you, that Abby feels safe and happy.

"Feel it now?"

"Holy shit." Abby marvels, but then you let go of the tree, let go of her hand and the reality kicks back in. She should be embarrassed, but she is so mesmerised by this experience she can't find a space for the embarrassment in her soul. "What was it?"

"New life in the forest. Something was born. Something that is very, very rare. Don't think that every time rabbits give birth the forest reacts like this." You smile and Abby smiles back.

"And- and you feel it all the time?"

"Yup. Let's keep going, it's getting dark and I'm hungry."

Abby chuckles, but there's a strange lightness in her. If the forest really asked you to stay and lets you feel such amazing things, and the villagers are so kind to you, and the way you got excited to hug a damn tree- Well, you're probably more than alright. Probably, one day Abby will call you a friend.