#that's kind of how it goes with me and writing

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

To love me better

Tags: Yakuza Lord!Sukuna x fem!Reader, american!Reader, forced/arranged marriage, dark romance trope, dead dove, age gap romance (reader is around 21-22, Sukuna is 37), cursing, suggestive language, use of nicknames like “doll” and “kitten”, use of y/n, use of “good girl”, NSFW, MDNI, Sukuna is his own warning.

Synopsis: Yakuza Lord!Sukuna owns all of entertainment district. You’re trying to work to put yourself through law school. He has a proposition for you, and you have one for him. Chaos ensues.

An: I love how I started out on Tumblr as a Gojo girlie, but I quickly became a Toji girlie. However, I write the most fics about Sukuna. He’s just so interesting. I want to eat him.

Part one. | Part two.

*art creds for sukuna image goes to @.maru6 here on tumblr

Nothing could ruin the rest of your night, nothing.

Not when you were counting up the money you made from tonight alone, and it was enough to keep you steady for over three months. You might not even have to work this job for long. Student loans be damned.

You were sat at the bar after closing. Your phone screen dimly illuminated that it was well past four in the morning, and your battery was running low.

The club was much less intimidating now. The music was dulled down to a low hum. The lights were on, exposing the club for what it actually looked like. Janitorial services were walking around while disinfecting every surface imaginable.

Honestly, the stranger’s words that he would be back had long left your mind. At first, you were nervous. You kept looking to the door, expecting for him to be there. You were jumpier too, and you started looking at your customers wearier.

Then, you realized it was probably a hollow threat. He had clearly had business with the Gojo clan, and he may not even make it out alive from that.

Yorozu was wiping down the bar and cleaning up. Since your customers were the last to leave, you were tasked with staying behind with her so you two could leave together. The club liked to use a buddy system for all of the girls. Of course, security personnel members were still posted at each and every corner.

“Sheeesh girl, you must have a natural talent for this,” Yorozu whistled as she watched you count through the massive pile or money before you. Most of it came from that stranger’s pocket.

“It must’ve been a hidden talent,” you meekly murmured with a small shrug, but you couldn’t bite back the small smile on your face. You felt elated, even if your feet were throbbing from the ridiculous heels you were wearing.

Yorozu grinned at you with a small laugh. She honestly found your calm and demure appearance to be charming, especially in this industry. “So humble,” she giggled. “Listen, some of the girls invest some of their money right back into the product to make sure they keep up with demand, but I don’t even think you need any of that.”

“The product? They invest in Malevolent Mass?”

“Girl no. They get work done. You know, a boob job here, tummy tuck there, a Brazilian butt lift if they’re brave enough. Remember, the product is your looks as well as the booze.”

“Oh… I don’t know,” you said sheepishly. The thought of walking around a courtroom with a BBL when you’re a lawyer didn’t necessarily strike you as professional, but to each their own.

“No, no, no, I get it. Like I said, I think you’re doing a good job with what you got. I’m trying to compliment you, silly.”

“Oh,” you exhale with a nervous laugh. You ease into the barstool, trying to remind your fight or flight instincts that Yorozu has been nothing but kind to you. You should relax around her. “Uh— I think you’re pretty too by the way.”

The bartender grins at you while she flips her high ponytail over her shoulder with a small wink. “Aww, thanks. I feel like I have the looks, but I don’t have the personality for a bottle girl. That’s why they stuck me back here.”

“Why is that?” you inquire, leaning your elbow on the bar as you prop your head up with your hand. Yorozu is working on cleaning off all the taps and nozzles.

“Because the first motherfucker to try and grab me is getting a bottle smashed across his head.”

You involuntarily laugh from the sudden bluntness of her words. Immediately, you imagine trying to defend her in court as her attorney, immediately taking a self-defense plea.

Before you can reply, tires screeching and motorcycles revving outside has you looking towards the door. Surely, it’s a couple of drunk people not realizing that the club is closed.

Then, the door swings open, and you can hear a few deep laughs echoing through the building. Security will deal with them, right?

You look up to Yorozu, wondering if she’ll end up telling them off instead, but you catch her fixing up her hair and pulling down her shirt a little bit further to expose her cleavage that was in fact — very pleasing to look at.

Feeling confused, you finally look over to who had entered the club, and your heart drops into your stomach. Instantly, your skin feels like TV static, and you have the instinct to run.

The handsome pink-haired stranger was walking towards the bar with a smirk planted on his face. His white button-up had been stained with a red splatter that you could only assume to be blood.

“Lord Sukuna,” Yorozu greets with a pretty smile.

Sukuna. You’ve heard that name before. Who was this man?

“Yorozu,” his gravely voice greets back. “Get my men a round, will ya? They deserve it.”

“Hell yeah! Drinks are on the boss tonight!”

“Boss! What about us, huh?” A security guard calls from his post on the second floor.

“The security men too, Yorozu.” He adds before he casually slides onto a barstool right next to you.

Surely, they’re just calling him boss out of terms of endearment.. You already met the manager, and this wasn’t him. Maybe he’s a friend of the owner..? Maybe…

“Good girl. You waited on me,” his voice lowly praises you as his eyes focus on your face. He finds your confusion and fear to be absolutely decadent. He’s going to savor this moment for as long as possible.

“I—“ your words get lodged in your throat as you don’t even know what to say right now. You have so many questions, but Sukuna’s men and security personnel are crowding around the bar. Everyone is too close, and you don’t want to embarrass yourself.

Yorozu planted a drink in front of every man including Sukuna, and she made one for herself. “What are we saying cheers to tonight?” she asked casually as she looked around the room.

“To the Gojo clan for being made up of a bunch of dimwits,” a man with short black hair called out, and he toasted his shot glass in the air. The rest of the men agreed, even Sukuna raised his shot glass before he tossed back his head, and the amber liquid slid down his throat.

Your eyes were zeroed in on the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, and you traveled your gaze over to his hand, remembering the way his fingers tested your throat out while you cried on his lap. You felt a dull heat settle between your thighs, so you clenched them together to soothe the ache.

“You said you didn’t drink,” you whispered sheepishly to Sukuna while the men hooped and hollered in the bar, bragging about the easy hits they got off on the Gojo men.

“Oh doll,” Sukuna cooed as he looked over to you. He gave you a mock pity glance. “I lied.”

“Just like you lied about being the owner?” you questioned as you went to stand from your barstool. You didn’t need this. You made enough money in one night for three months. You could find another job before then. The last thing you needed was to get mixed up in a crowd like this.

A strong hand settled on your thigh, gripping it as he applied a little pressure to keep you sat. Sukuna cocked an eyebrow at your boldness. To think you could just walk away from him so easily…

“Did I ever specifically say that I wasn’t the owner?” he asked as he sat his shot glass down on the bar.

“Another round?” Yorozu spoke up. This was the most chipper you have seen her ever.

Sukuna merely waved his hand out her with an indifference that even made you want to flinch. However, she took it in stride and made everyone else another round, skipping you and Sukuna.

You still feel her eyes dig into your face as it’s obvious you and Sukuna are engaged in a pretty serious conversation.

“No, you didn’t, but I feel like that’s just lying by omission,” you say as your eyebrows furrow slightly. You can feel your stomach twisting in knots. A swirl of emotions settle in your body: shame, fear, and inexplicable arousal.

“Oh y/n, are you really the one to talk about liars hm?”

Your name on his lips fellt like a sucker punch to the gut… and the clit. You never gave him your name, only opting for your codename, but he knew who you were. It was only a matter of time before he knew what school you went to, what you were majoring in, everything…

You’re already in too deep.

Suddenly, everyone feels to close. Your clothes are itchy, and your hair is sitting on you in the wrong way. Everyone’s too loud, and the buzzing of the lights makes you want to rip off your skin.

Your breath picks up, shifting to small pants as you try to calm yourself down. You haven’t had a panic attack in so long... why now?

“Alright, hop up. Let’s go to my office,” Sukuna says as his hand lets go of your thigh, and he gently hovers it over your lower back as he stands up from his stool.

Nothing sounds worse than going to his office, except for staying here and breaking down in front of a bunch of Yakuza members and coworkers.

Your legs wobble beneath you, but Sukuna keeps a steady hand against you, grounding you to him as he carefully guides you up stairs.

“We’re almost there. You’re okay,” he sounds like he’s trying to comfort you, but allowing him to soothe you would be like cuddling up to a venomous snake when they wrap themselves around you. He’s sizing you up, looking at you like prey.

You’d pay more attention to your surroundings if you weren’t so focused on trying not to hyperventilate. You hear a small beep before a door opens. It’s locked by a fingerprint sensor, only Sukuna could enter.

He guides you to sit down before his desk, and you hear the door shut behind you.

“Let it out,” he lowly demands as he walks over to the corner of the office. He presses a button on a fan before it blows in your general direction. You’re grateful for the cool breeze as you let out a haggard sigh.

You silently bring yourself back down to earth. You were in a sticky situation now, but you’ve done nothing wrong. Sure, Sukuna is the owner of Malevolent Mass, and sure, he had his fingers down your throat earlier, but that’s not a crime.

His large figure stands before you as he rummages through his desk for a moment. Once he finds what he’s looking for, his gaze snaps back up to you.

“You’re not letting it out,” Sukuna grumbles as he steps behind you. His large hands comb through your hair. Your eyes involuntarily close, and you hone in on your five senses to ground yourself further.

You can feel the air from the fan blowing past you, and Sukuna’s fingers are gently combing through your hair. He gathers it up into his palms. His office smells like him, of leather and bourbon with a nice manly musk as well. The fan is quiet, but you can hear the small motor buzzing as its blades are propelling around. Opening up your eyes, you recognize that his office is quite bare. It doesn’t look like he’s here all that often.

By the time you’re finally feeling better, you realize that your hair is off your shoulders, and you look up to see Sukuna standing behind you, looking down at you.

Your eyebrows furrow, and you reach behind your head to see what he did, and you feel your hair tied up in a bun, using a pen to hold it in place.

He put your hair up in a bun for you.

“Did you think I chopped it all off?” he asks, not missing a beat with his smirk. Satisfied with your calmness, he walks around his desk before taking a seat.

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” you say slowly at your eyes look up to meet his. Being nervous wasn’t going to get you anywhere, you tried to remember the lessons in confidence that your law professor had given you. You straighten your back, pushing your shoulders back as you face Sukuna squarely. “So, should I call you boss too?”

He barks out a laugh from your little display. You really were nothing like anyone he’s ever met, and he’s met plenty of people from all walks of life. “Oh doll, I would much prefer if you said my name instead.”

His eyes rest upon you with an expectant gaze. He’s waiting for you to say it. He needs to hear you say his name.

“Okay… Sukuna,” you finally relent, choosing your battles wisely. “I— um,” Dammit, you’re already failing your confidence lessons. It’s something about Sukuna’s soft red eyes exploring over your face, like he’s hanging onto every word you say. “Thank you for getting me away from them and… helping me through that.”

“How precious,” Sukuna snickers as he leans back into his chair. “It’d do you well to know that everything I do is for the benefit of me, doll. Nevertheless, you’re welcome.”

“Putting my hair up in a bun benefitted you?” you press a bit, wondering just what his motives are now. Before, you assumed he was just some older rich man who was looking for a bit of play, but now… you weren’t so sure.

“I needed you calm before I sat down and spoke to you,” Sukuna answers as he watches your face carefully. He loves watching you try to piece everything together.

“Is this meeting some sort of performance review because if so, it’s rather late. I have other matters to tend to like trying to maintain some sort of proper sleeping schedule.”

“You’re rather mouthy to the man you work for, and for the man who forked up thousands of yen to you.”

A small sigh escapes you, knowing he has you under his thumb now. You should’ve never taken the money. You gave an inch, and now, he was going to take a mile.

“Oh darling, don’t look so down. I think it’s charming. It was just an observation on my part.”

You take a deep breath. You’re still at a loss for what was motivating him now. “Right… So, why am I in your office?”

“I have a proposition for you,” Sukuna says as he twirls a pen around his fingers. His digits effortlessly spin the pen in intricate circles, never losing grip or control.

“Listen— you’ve been exuberantly kind with your money, and I appreciate that, truly. But…”

“Aht, Let me finish,” he says in a lightly scolding tone. His eyes give you a disapproving look for interrupting him. “I don’t want you to work for me anymore. If anything was proven tonight, it was that you’re not cut out to be a bottle girl.”

Your jaw drops open, and your eyebrows furrow a little bit, forming a crease between them. He was firing you? How could he say that when Yorozu said you had a natural talent??

“Tch. Don’t take it as a bad thing, girl. Like I said, angels don’t last long in this industry. Consider it a favor that it’s ending with you being fired and not dead in a ditch.”

“Oh wow, thank you. How should I ever repay you?” you ask bitterly, barely holding back frustrated tears as they threatened to spill from your eyes. Your fists clenched at the hem of your dress. It’s just one setback after another.

“If you must, you can crawl under this desk and show me just how grateful you are,” Sukuna replies as he leans forward on the desk with a small smirk.

The audacity of this man makes you see red. He never misses a beat with his responses, and he’s fucking unshakable.

“So your proposal was for me to blow you for firing me-?” you ask incredulously.

“Oh doll, that would really be a treat, but no. I’m wanting something that can’t be obtained in just one night.”

“Please—“ you say before you pinch the bridge of your nose. You take a deep breath. Emotions don’t belong in negotiation, and that’s exactly what this is. “Can you be a little less cryptic? It’s been a long night, and to top it all off, I just got fired from the only job I’ve had.”

Sukuna’s quiet for a moment. His eyes roam over you before it looks like he finally takes pity on you. “Alright, I don’t want you working for me at Malevolent Mass. I think your set of skills would best be allocated elsewhere. Instead, I wanted to offer you a proposition.

“It’s clear that you’re money motivated, and before you throw some sort of tantrum, I’m not saying that as a bad thing. It’s just a fact. I want to support you through school, and in return, I just need you to be available to me.”

You stare for a long minute. Available to him. You could only guess what he meant by that. “You want a sugar baby,” you say slowly, narrowing your gaze at him.

The thought of letting him do more with his fingers than train your throat crosses your mind. You have to cross your legs to soothe the small thrumming feeling you feel deep in your core.

“Mmm, not quite. I’m not offering to buy you cute little outfits and fund your next beach trip. I’m offering to put you through school. Any expenses that relate to your schooling and/or living situation, I’ll handle. Actually, scratch that. I will buy you cute little outfits if they're for my eyes only,” Sukuna leans back in his chair, and his eyes stay glued onto your face.

“I can only assume that available to you means free use,” you scoff, rubbing your face in a stressed out gesture. You just made more money than you have ever seen, got fired, and propositioned to be a free use not-sugar baby all in one night.

“Smart girl,” he replies with a slight predatory grin.

You take a moment to wrack your brain for every little detail you’ve learned in your law classes so far. This deal seems like it benefits you, until he just gets tired or supporting you or until you don’t feel like doing a sexual favor for him.

He could also invoke his free use policy at any given time, demanding that you miss class or wake up in the dead of night.

There was also another problem.

“Free use of every inch of my body?” you inquire, raising an eyebrow at him.

Sukuna lets out another deep growly chuckle as he tips his head back. “This is what I get for trying to bargain with a future lawyer.”

Your eyes widen as you stare at the man across from you. “You know what I’m in school for?” you ask as your heart starts to thump harshly in your chest. You haven't mentioned that small detail to anyone at Malevolent Mass with the hopes that you could keep your work life and university life separate.

“Oh y/n, I know a lot more about you than you think, kitten. I don’t just hire anyone at Malevolent Mass, and I don’t just extend offers to just anyone either.”

You glance back towards the door, wondering if you could just run from this, but horror strikes you as you realize there’s a fingerprint sensor on this side too. The only person who could leave freely was Sukuna.

“Don’t look so petrified, doll, It was really a simple background check. I have to make sure those nasty dogs from the Gojo clan don’t try and weasel their way into my space.”

You look back to face him, trying to convince yourself that he was telling the truth. It was just a protocol procedure…

“You never answered my question. Will my entire body be free use to you?” you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

Sukuna rests his elbows on the desk, and he gives you an almost bored expression now. “Yes. I’m not putting you through school just to experience only half of the fun, girl.”

“No thank you. I’ll pass.”

He looks interested now, peaking up at you with a small smirk. “What bothers you about that, doll? Is it the ass play? I’d be willing to give that up. Never been much of an ass guy anyway.”

“I wasn’t—“ your eyes widen as you realize you’d be giving up your whole body to whatever kinks he had in store. You hadn’t even thought about anything past vanilla sex. “No, that’s not why. I just— no deal.”

“I hear you, but tell me what’s spooking you off from taking my deal.”

“I made a promise to someone really close to me,” you don’t dare to mention your dad, not wanting Sukuna to pry anymore into your personal life than he already did. “I’m not willing to give myself up before marriage, especially not to some sort of free use deal.”

Sukuna’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. He shifts in his seat as his lips twitch upwards. Things just got much more interesting for him. “Ohhh, I see. You’re a cute little virgin, huh? I should’ve known based on how you cried from merely sitting in my lap.”

You swallow thickly, feeling your fight or flight instinct kick back in. He was acting as if you told him some sort of heirloom secret in your family. Your head slowly nods, not trusting your voice to speak.

“Hm. Alright, fine. Get out of my club, girl. And don’t let me see you here as a guest either unless you want me to bend you over my lap and discipline you myself.”

“I want to propose a counter offer.”

“Huh-?” Sukuna is rarely ever caught off guard. He prides himself on knowing everyone’s next moves, probably before they even know their next move. However, he did not foresee you, a meek little thing, giving him a counter offer.

“Are you not willing to hear me out? I’ll gladly leave with the money I made tonight,” you say, calling his bluff on kicking you out.

He quickly fixes his face from a look of surprise to another confident smirk. “Go on, doll. Show me what you got.”

“No free use. You support me through school financially including my livelihood and beyond that,” You purposely leave out the part where you don’t necessarily have a livelihood, but he’ll find that out sooner or later. “We get married, and then, you can have me as free use with the only stipulation that it can’t interfere with my school or work.”

Sukuna silently reaches over, and he clicks off the fan that was blowing on you earlier during your panic attack. A heavy silence fills the room, and his eyes bore into you.

“Are you looking to become the sole beneficiary of my life insurance policy, hm?” he finally breaks the silence, and a feline grin almost spreads across his face. He’s mocking you.

“No, you keep your life insurance policy to whoever it is. I’ll even sign a prenup stating that I’m not entitled to anything of yours in the event that we get divorced due to infidelity or any nefarious acts on my end,” you explain as your fingers subconsciously twiddle together.

Sukuna's silent for another moment as he weighs everything out in his head. You look down towards your hands, wondering if you just made some grave error in trying to negotiate. You should've just taken the money he gave you and ran.

“I take great pride in understanding human motives, doll. You’ve been one of the few to truly stump me. Tell me, why would you want to marry me? Because I know good and well it’s not to fulfill some promise to someone important to you. If it was about that, you’d understand that this… certain somebody would want you to marry for love, not for a contractual agreement.”

You licked your lips to wet them as you took what Sukuna said into consideration. You suppose he’s right. Your father didn’t want you to marry for some sort of mutually beneficial contract. Perhaps, your late father wanted you to marry so that you couldn’t be so easily abandoned again like your mother had abandoned you.

“Maybe you don’t understand because you’re on the inside,” you say slowly, keeping your eyes trained onto the floor. You felt your face warm with the unfamiliar feeling of vulnerability. Tears bit into your eyes.

“On the inside of what?” his question was more like a demand.

“Despite being born in this country, I am still on the outside. I don’t have a last name that anyone takes seriously. If I want to make change, people have to look at me with reverence and respect. Even being an outsider who doesn’t understand all the great family names of this land, your last name made me take heed. Your name demanded respect, and I want that same respect in turn for myself.”

Sukuna’s eyes widen but a fraction as his pupils dilate while looking at you. From the moment he knew your name and saw your pretty face, he knew you’d be interesting, but this? This took the cake for him.

“I need an heir for my… empire. If you’re married to me, I’ll expect at least one, though you should expect that I’ll keep your hands and stomach full with wifely duties,” Sukuna said, testing to see how you’d react.

“I want my degree first,” you expertly counteroffer, looking back up at him in the eyes. You were really agreeing to marry this man and have his children, but you have no earthly idea what his ‘empire’ truly was.

“Done. What else would you like, doll?” Sukuna easily agrees. His body leans forward into the desk. You’re so fucking tantalizing to him, and you don’t even know it. His heart is beating wildly in his chest. This is the same high he chases right before a well deserved kill. The only other person who has made him feel this same way without dying was Satoru Gojo, head of the Gojo clan.

“If you’re really a…” The word ‘yakuza’ dies on your lips. People didn’t throw around that word so frivolously. “If you and your business partners outside this office subscribe to that sort of kinship, I want to be as clueless about it as El Chapo’s wife. Please, give me plausible deniability.”

You could feel your moral compass shattering just from the mere bargaining of this. Just because you didn’t see something, doesn’t make it any less real. You were just turning a blind eye to Sukuna’s crimes… just like how corporations turned a blind eye to your father.

You try to remind yourself that this was for the greater good. You wanted revenge and penance for all the workers who have suffered at the hands of greedy men. You had to play to win.

This was only temporary. Once you established yourself in the field of law, you wouldn’t need Sukuna’s last name. By that time, he would likely already grow tired of you and move onto the next young pretty thing that fell onto his lap. Both of you would move onto different things.

Sukuna let out a deep, rich laugh that only men of high status could give. “Darling, I wouldn’t dream of involving you in my work, as long as you don’t involve me in yours.”

You let out a deep breath. This was really happening. What would your father say about the life you had chosen to live?

Your future husband slowly held out his hand to you. His palm was rough and calloused. The small splatter of blood on his white button-up spoke volumes to you. This was a man you didn’t want to cross.

“A deal, then?” his voice coated you in a false sense of security. Sukuna was terrifying, but in a way, he also brought you comfort.

“Before I shake your hand, I want the right to end our engagement should I change my mind. I’ll forfeit the money, and I’ll never step foot in the entertainment district. I’ll also never utter a word about anything I may have seen during our engagement.”

Sukuna kept his hand extended towards you. “The door your eyes kept glancing to has been unlocked this entire time, darling. The fingerprint sensor isn’t even active right now. You’re free to walk away from me all the way until you say I do,”

You glanced down at his hand then up to his eyes. He’s wearing a subtle smirk that tells you that he’s comfortable right now. You take his hand, and you shake on it before you could think wiser.

“Good girl. We can go over more explicit details the next time we meet,” your future husband smiles — a real genuine smile, and he stands up from his desk. His hands go to unbuttoning his shirt.

“I—“ your words get caught in your throat as Sukuna shrugs off his button-up shirt. His muscles look as though they’ve been delicately sculpted by one of the greatest artists to ever live. His tattoo, lines and circles that seem to have no other purpose, only accentuate every hill and ditch on his body. No, Sukuna’s not some sort of man — he’s a god.

“What are you doing?” your voice is about an octave too high, betraying your nervousness. You quickly stop yourself from staring, opting to cover your eyes up with your hands.

“Oh doll, don’t be shy,” he teases with a throaty laugh. He’s enjoying watching you squirm over him. “I’m for your enjoyment now, seeing as though we’re engaged.”

You hear fabric rustling, and you take the chance to peek between your fingers to see what he’s doing. He had another shirt tucked away in his desk, and he was now buttoning it up across his chest.

His old shirt was no where to be seen. He must’ve already expertly discarded it for no one to find.

You slowly stand as well, taking the hint that this conversation was coming to an end. You look for your bag before you realize that you must’ve left it at the bar when Sukuna led you up to his office during your panic attack.

“Come, doll. I’ll take you home,” Sukuna says, beckoning to you like an owner would their dog. He opens the door, proving that it really wasn’t locked.

You slowly follow behind him. “It’s fine. I can walk or take a subway,” you say slowly. The thought of Sukuna seeing where you lived, even if you were on student housing, made your skin crawl with unease.

“Oh y/n, you have so much to learn about me,” he taunts as his hand grazes the small of your back. He carefully leads you down to the club level. The bar had mostly cleared out. You noted how Yorozu had seemingly left. So much for the buddy system. “I’m not the type of man to let my future wife navigate the entertainment district at this ungodly hour without so much of a cell phone to call for help.”

“I have a cell phone—“ you quickly protest before you pick it up off the bar. It was completely dead. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. How did he even know about that..?

“I watched the screen fade to black as you were accusing me of lying. Let this be your first lesson, your trip here was the last time you’ll be free to roam the streets of the entertainment district without some sort of protection with you.”

You swallow thickly as you slowly grab your purse. Not that the money mattered, but it was still left undisturbed on the bar. Sukuna’s eyes flickered between you and the stack of yen, as if silently telling you to take it… even if you didn’t need it now.

“Consider it a down payment,” Sukuna laughs as he grabs a helmet off the bar. Your eyes widen as you remember that he didn’t drive a car here.

Your future husband doesn’t take a moment for pause as he walked towards the doors. He holds it open for you, expecting you to follow him.

What other choice did you have? You also didn’t necessarily fancy walking home without a phone to call for help if you needed it.

He turns to face you before reaching around and pulling the pen he had meticulously placed in your hair to hold it up. Your hair fell down, and he stepped closer to you. “Have you ever ridden before?”

You slowly shake your head. You’ve never even been close to a motorcycle before, and Sukuna’s bike looks intimidating.

“Mm, I should’ve guessed by the fear in your eyes,” he laughs lowly before slowly slipping the helmet over your head. You’re rendered blind for a moment as it takes him a second to adjust the helmet to your head. His fingers delicately adjust the straps beneath your chin, making sure you’re properly secured in.

“If I would’ve known I’d have my future wife with me, I would’ve opted for the car instead of my bike. You’re lucky I’m a good driver, doll.”

Your hands go to raise your visor up so you can look him in the eyes instead of a tinted plastic meant to protect your eyes. However, Sukuna slaps the visor back down with a hearty chuckle. “Keep it down, kitten. Don’t you want to be able to see while you walk down the aisle?”

His strong hands then wrap around your waist, and he lifts you effortlessly as though you weigh nothing to him. You barely make it through a gasp before he safely settles you onto the back of his bike.

“Put your feet on the pegs,” he instructs as he carefully swings his own leg over the bike. “When we’re riding, you hold onto me, and lean with the bike not against it.”

“What does that even mean?” you shout, feeling like your heart is going to have palpitations after this ride.

“It means…” he reaches behind himself to grab your hands, and he makes you wrap your arms around his waist. He places your palms on his rock solid stomach. “Hold onto me and trust me, doll.”

You’re forced to lean into him, practically laying yourself against his muscular back. His warmth seeps into you as you hold onto him tightly. The bike roars to life.

“You ready for the ride of your life, doll?”

The beautiful neon lights of bright purples, lime greens, and cyan blues zip past you as Sukuna revs the bike. The engine purrs and whines as he drives the bike with a confidence that comes with riding for several years.

The entertainment district is at its prettiest during this hour. Not many people are out and about, but it’s still dark and the streetlights illuminate the space. It feels like it’s straight out of a dystopian science fiction movie.

The ride is mostly silent. You’re focused on the feeling of the wind in your hair and the sights that Japan has to offer. You stay wrapped around Sukuna, using his body as an anchor while it feels like you might blow away.

It gives you time to think and reflect. You’ve done more new things in the last 24 hours than you have all your life. It feels… freeing, a sort of freedom that you haven’t felt since your father was injured at his job.

A sudden thought occurs to you. You never told Sukuna which student housing you live in… Sure, he could infer that you live on student housing, but there’s still multiple housing facilities that you could live in.

Much to your dismay, he pulls up to the exact right building, and he slowly kills the engine. “How was that?” he asks as he turns over his shoulder to look at you.

Your fingers quickly fumble with the strap of your helmet, trying to peel the safety gear off of you.

Sukuna laughs quietly as he watches you struggle. He pushed himself up off the bike, so he could tend to you better. “Careful, doll. Don’t overwork yourself. I’m sure the ride wasn’t that bad.”

Once the helmet was off, you stare up at him with a heat of a thousand suns. “How do you know where I live?” you demand as your eyebrows furrow. Your lips curl into that adorable pout that makes Sukuna involuntarily grin at you.

“I already told you, doll. I don’t just let anyone work at Malevolent Mass, and I certainly don’t just offer marriage to someone I hardly know,” he says it as if it’s the most natural thing on this planet.

You’re completely speechless for a moment, reeling over just how much he knows about you. He made the deal with you knowing what he was getting himself into; however, you basically just signed yourself up for a blind sentence.

“As much as I crave the fear you’re wearing on your face, it’s late. You have class on Monday, which means you need to fix your sleeping schedule tonight. Go inside, get some rest, and make sure to charge your phone. I’ll be in touch.” You don’t even bother asking how he knows your phone number.

He reaches out to you, bracing a hand behind your head as his fingers intertwine strands of hair. He then bends over and presses his lips gently against your forehead.

A warmth blossoms over you. A simple forehead kiss was not what you were expecting from the man who fucked your mouth with his fingers and propositioned you for a free use bargain. It felt simple, sweet, innocent…

It’s almost enough to make all the anxiety lift from your shoulders, but you still yourself, reminding yourself not to fall for such frivolous tricks and pretty words… even if it was really thoughtful that he had already thought about your schooling.

“I’ll draft up a contract before our next meeting, doll.” He slides the helmet over his own head, and he pushes the visor upwards so you can gaze into his red eyes that appear soft at the moment.

Coming to your senses, you give him a weary gaze. “Written contracts only ever benefit the writer of the contract.”

You can’t see his lips, but you can tell from his eyes that he’s smirking at you like he’s proud of you for picking up on such a minor detail. “I have such a clever little wife.”

With that, his bike roars to life, and he points towards the door of your building. His intention is clear enough. You’re now to do as your future husband says.

Taglist: @theuniversesnepobaby @lizatonix @starmapz @everywonuu @totallygyomeiswife @sukubusss @depressiondiaries @t4naiis @hishearttohave @soraya-daydreams @lulunx @s-1-xx @el-lise @prettyngeto @marifujioka @iheartlinds @gina239 @actuallynarii @shxyxyxxxx @krispycreamepie @emoedgylord

[dameronspector]

Time in a Bottle (Part 2)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Wife!Reader, Past!Manny Alvarez x Reader

Summary: You wished you could save time in a bottle. You wished you could stay longer with him. You were supposed to spend the rest of your days in marital bliss, turning gray and wrinkly together. And then, your husband decided to risk his life and save her. And She brought in ghosts from your past while taking away your reason to live at the same time.

Warnings: Angst. Suicidal Thoughts. Cursing. Canon-typical Gore and injuries, Blood, Based on s2 episode 2. This is literally pain. Major character death. Thoughts of vengeance. Reader goes crazy later. References to Past Manny x Reader (I am assuming Manny to be in his mid-thirties so Reader's age is the same). Manny is kind of toxic now because of his jealousy, If you’re an Abby defender, please click off right away because this is only Abby hate. Reader wishes to kill abby and the salt lake crew.

AN: here is part 2. enjoy <3 (will write a fix-it fic after this i promise)

“Stop. Stop it. You want me, leave her alone. Please”, Joel begged in a shaky voice. You sobbed harder, he’s never begged in front of such losers before. Abby chuckled. “Oh well, we don’t want to hurt her anyways.”

Your heart fell down to your stomach. No matter what happened, they were going to take him out. And looking at Joel’s reaction, you knew he had accepted it already. He had not opposed to anything ever since she had you cornered. You should’ve understood this. But your mind was clouded with desperation and anger. “No…”, you whimpered and tried to reach for Joel.

“But I am going to kill you. Because, it doesn’t matter, if you have a code like me…or you’re a lawless piece of shit like you. Because there’s just some things that everyone agrees are fucking wrong”, Abby conceded, her eyes filled with tears.

Your stomach curdled in anger. “Oh save it, you were in the fucking military. Don’t act like you’re a saint, moron”, you furiously yelled at her. Abby glanced at you with her bloodshot eyes. You stared her down and looked at Joel. He was way too quiet. He simply nodded his head in agreement and gulped against the lump in his throat.

“Baby, don’t let her get to you. You didn’t do anything wrong, Joel, please. Please!”, you begged him. He turned to look at you, his eyes shining with unshed tears and unwavering love for you. He had already made his peace. “I love you, honey”, he whispered. Your eyes widened and your sobs grew louder. “NO. No, shut the fuck up, Joel. Tell that to me when we get back home!”, you struggled against Manny, your legs kicking his feet and nails burying into his arms. Your throat hurt, your voice coming out croaky. Manny tightened his arms around you out of jealousy. How, and why, were you in love with this vile man, was beyond his comprehension.

You were sobbing so much that you didn’t notice Abby get up and make her way to the golf kit. “Sweetheart, look at me. It’s okay. You’re hyperventilating, look at me”, Joel tried to placate you with his sweet and caring words. And then she spoke up again. “You know, it’s funny, I’ve waited so long—”

Joel rolled his eyes in irritation. “Oh, just shut the fuck up and do it already!”, he roared in an agitated voice, cutting off her boring speech. You almost laughed, your husband had no patience for stupid monologues before anyone had to do something immoral. He always said it felt like they were trying to justify their actions by a senseless and dramatic speech like this. But you couldn’t, because this was the first time that he had said it out loud. “Joel- what?”, you asked him breathlessly.

Abby turned around with a golf club in her hand, twirling it aimlessly in her hands. Your eyes widened. “No- what the fuck? You fucking psycho!-”, you thrashed around, your breathing laboured, causing you to feel dizzy. “You stupid, old man…you don’t get to rush this”, Abby declared and-

She swung the golf club directly on Joel’s injured knee making him scream in agony.

“NO! No- no, please, please. Hurt me instead, please. I’ll-I’ll tell you whatever you want, please-pl-”

She swung the golf club on his knee again, the sound of bones cracking echoing across the room, alongside Joel and your screams- his in pain, yours in despair. Manny’s eyes were shining with fear and vengeance, his and Owen's face blank out of disbelief. Mel was crying and Nora's eyes teared up.

“No, please, don’t hurt him. Please. Manny, leave me please-”, you sobbed and turned your head to look at Manny, your tearful eyes looking up in his with desperation. Manny closed his eyes and his cheeks shook from how tightly he was clenching his jaw. As you turned your head away from Joel, Abby swung the club against his knee again. He howled in pain. You whipped your head back to your husband and saw his mangled knee. Your body shook with gut wrenching sorrow and you sunk to your knees, dragging Manny down with your heavy body. You moved your arms and pushed Manny away from you when Abby signaled Owen to take over.

You were reaching for Joel, his body shaking with painful breaths and grunts before Owen came over and tried to hold you back. Manny snapped his head up and held your arms in his hands before shaking his head at Owen. “Owen- no. Abby! We talked about this-”, Manny tried to convince Abby in a desperate effort to protect you.

“Shut the fuck up, Manny”, Abby glowered at him and punched Joel in the face. Joel groaned in pain, blood rushing out of his nose and his cheek already swelling up.

“Joel- hey, baby- look at me-”, you tried to call out to him in an attempt to keep him alert before Abby barked orders at Owen to shut you up. Owen clenched his jaw and aimed his rifle at your knee before firing a shot. You howled out of pain and doubled over, holding your thigh. Joel tried to look at you before heaving out a request, “No, leave her alone! Baby-”, Abby punched him again.

“Fuck-”, Manny exclaimed, and whipped his head to look at Abby. “I told you she was not a part of this, Abby!”, he barked at her. She ignored him and kept punching Joel to a pulp, his face covered in blood and swollen. Your hands were stained with your blood now, the blood oozing out of the wound. Your breathing was laboured and you felt like the whole room was spinning in circles. Manny tried to put pressure on your wound but you scowled at him.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Alvarez”, you spit at him with a waver in your voice and turned your attention back to Joel. Your face twisted in pain. His handsome face was covered in blood and cuts. You whimpered and tried to get up when Owen kneeled next you and locked your hands behind your back, forcing you down to press your cheek to the ground. “Leave me- no- Joel, JOEL!”, you let out helpless sobs and felt your head swim. She just kept punching Joel, your Joel, and your strong and brave Joel was left lying helplessly on the ground.

-

You had lost the track of time. You were losing blood rapidly, causing you to become delirious and your body was shivering. Your heart was lying across you, his head turned towards the door. You didn’t even know what was the damage done. How much did that psychotic, vengeful girl had hurt him. All you knew, was that his breathing was getting fainter and you could do nothing but lay there and cry in pain.

She kept punching him. You wanted to get up and beat her to a pulp, then and there. But you were so exhausted, the wound in your knee sending throbbing jolts of pain throughout your body that made you feel paralysed and you couldn’t move against that tall man holding you down. You felt like you were underwater. Your ears couldn’t hear anything except the sound of Abby’s fists hitting your beloved husband’s face again and again.

You were losing blood rapidly, your body violently shaking and the cold was seeping into your bones. Manny noticed this and shoved Owen away from your body. Owen tried to protest but Manny shut him down with a stare. He took off his belt and made a torniquet around your knee and draped a jacket on you. You couldn’t register any of it, your body and mind completely focused on Joel. He was still there, you could feel it. Abby raised her fist again before the door swung open.

Ellie.

“Joel! Joel- get up!”, she yelled out to Joel.

You whimpered in relief and reached for her with an extended arm. “Ellie…”, you whispered tearfully. You found the strength to sit up again, leaning your weight on your arms and grunting when Nora and Manny tackled Ellie and forced her down. “Joel! Joel fucking get up!”, she kept yelling desperately when Manny forced her down again and she sliced his face with her knife. Your chest swelled with pride when Manny seethed in anger and tried to get his lick back.

“Stupid fucking bitch-”, he charged at her and Owen tried to hold him back but he pushed past him and delivered a swift kick to Ellie’s ribs. Ellie gasped out a choked noise and your insides swirled with a fury that you had never felt before. Your limbs shook, as you used up all of your energy and hobbled over to Manny, grabbing him by the collar and punching him square in the nose. You smirked as you heard the satisfying crack of the bones. “Don’t fucking touch my daughter, Alvarez”, you seethed at him. You saw the way his jaw ticked and Owen tackled you, turning you around and making you face Joel.

Your body felt paralyzed. Not out of pain, but after looking at Joel’s face. His beautiful face was a mangled mess- one eye swollen shut, a huge cut across his eyebrow, the same eyebrow that you would press kisses to, his face covered with blood, his lovely curls damp because of it. His hands laid by his face and he was still using his remaining energy to look at you and Ellie with so much emotion in his eyes. He was still breathing. But at what cost?

Your ears were ringing, your mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. You couldn’t hear anything except for Ellie’s desperate cries for Joel to get up. You whimpered with pride when you saw that he tried to lift his head up for Ellie and your world came crashing down when Abby stabbed him in the neck with the broken golf club.

Your heart stopped. How could your heart beat anymore when Joel wasn’t breathing anymore? How could it be alive anymore when Joel was lying there, motionless and his eyes were staring at you blankly-an arm extended in your and Ellie’s direction, trying to reach you two even in his last moments. You couldn’t feel or hear anything after that. Not Ellie’s heartbreaking sobs, not her threat to Abby, not the group packing up their stuff as if they had just finished a picnic, and not even Owen finally releasing you. A pair of shoes obscured your view of Joel and pulled you up in a sitting position, your body lax and eyes fixed in a blank stare at Joel. You didn’t even feel the pain when your knee bent and aggravated the wound. The person holding you straightened your leg and held you by the arms.

“(Name), hey”, Manny patted your cheeks to bring your attention to him. Your head lolled against his hands, your gaze solely on Joel’s unmoving body. “Look at me, (nickname), c’mon. Let’s go”, he tried to pull you up. Your ears managed to catch that and you lazily turned your gaze at him. You felt disgust crawl up your throat. Even after killing your husband and hitting your daughter in front of you, he had the audacity to ask you to go with them.

You panted and raised your shaky hands to fist his jacket before slapping him across the face, hard enough to split his lip and make his cheek swell instantly. His mouth fell open and he turned to looked at you with bloodshot eyes. “Remember that until I come back to kill you, Manny Alvarez”, you spoke in an eerie, calm tone. Manny averted his eyes from your anguished and vengeful ones and moved away to gather his stuff. Nora finally released Ellie and she whimpered before crawling to you, laying her head on your lap. Her tears soaked your lap and you laid your hand on her head, free hand caressing her back.

The group was about to leave when you suddenly let out a maniacal chuckle. They looked at you with unease. “You’re a coward and a fraud, just like your father, Abby. He was a fake fucking doctor who was injecting drugs into a non-consenting teenager and was performing brain surgery without even knowing if it was gonna work. You talk of a code, but neither your father, nor you, followed a code. That’s why you’re both frauds”, you stated in between chuckles.

Abby looked like you had slapped her across the face and the entire group turned to look at her with a shocked expression on their face. Manny clenched his jaw and stared down Abby with teary eyes. “I’m so fucking proud that my husband was the one who killed your dad. He deserved it. And oh, I’ll make sure you regret keeping me alive. You should’ve just killed me when you had the chance”, you finished speaking and stared directly into her eyes with a crazed look in your eyes. Abby swallowed thickly and rushed out of the room, the rest following her.

The room was now housing your little family, Ellie's sobs echoed in the still room, while she reached for you desperately. “(Name)- he-”, she couldn’t finish her sentence without choking on her sobs. She looked up to your emotionless face. You were completely detached from the world and that made her chest hurt. She lifted her head from your lap and crawled over to Joel and removed the golf club sticking out of his neck before throwing it away. Her smaller hands covered his hand gently and she draped her body across his back. “Joel-Joel-please…”, she sobbed against his hair. She looked so much younger than her age right now. It broke something further in you.

You numbly crawled across the space and sat down in front of Joel’s body. Ellie lifted her head, her face red and damp with tears and snot. He was just here- reassuring you that everything will be okay. You were supposed to go back home and cook dinner, then take a walk around the town before going back home and cuddling on the couch until you fell asleep. He was supposed to get up in the morning and make you coffee, kiss you tenderly and play with Benji while annoying Maria with Tommy. You were supposed to spend the rest of your lives together- happily. You raised your hand and brushed his blood soaked curls, lovingly scratching his scalp like you would always. You laid down on your side, scooting closer to him and memorised his face while running your thumb along his hairline and Ellie looked at you, crying harder. “You can rest now, baby. Thank you for everything. I love you so much”, you whispered to him and closed his good eye with care, pressing a kiss to his forehead, not caring if his blood transferred to your lips. You draped an arm across Ellie and laid there next to his lifeless body, trying to come to terms with whatever happened.

-

You don't know how long did you lay there next to him. The room got cold and your leg was throbbing even more now. Ellie was still letting out tiny whimpers and you could do nothing except rub her back. Finally, Jesse arrived on the scene and tried to digest it. He quickly helped Ellie to get up before they tried to bring Dina back to consciousness. You still hadn't moved, eyes fixed on Joel's face. His hand was so cold and pale now, you held it between your palms and caressed it gently, trying to warm him up.

Jesse had to pry you away from his body. You tried to break out of his arms and wouldn’t let him wrap Joel’s body so he had to unwillingly lock you in a separate room. You banged at the door until you couldn’t, eventually passing out from exhaustion and blood loss. You came to when you were on your horse, completely leaning against him and the slow up and down motion of his body lulling you back to a sleep, your eyes opening and closing in an attempt to stay awake. Your bleary eyes caught sight of Jesse and Ellie on a horse and Dina on their right. You also took notice of your right leg feeling heavier, as if someone had wrapped it in something and you promptly passed out again.

-

You woke up to commotion. There was a lot of noise around you, hands trying to help you down from the horse and then familiar hands catching you before cradling you to their chest. Your eyes fluttered open to see Tommy leaning over you with a sorrowful expression on his face. There was a bloody cut on his face and it reminded you of Manny for a second.

“Sweetheart? Are you alright? Wake up for me, c’mon”, he begged you and shook your body slightly.

Your eyes kept opening and closing. “T-Tommy?…”

“Yeah, are you okay? We need to get you to the clinic and-” “Where’s Joel?”, you asked him with confusion written across your face.

Tommy stiffened up and felt his throat close up. He just saw his big brother’s body bag being dragged away. He was holding his injured sister-in-law in his arms. He just took on a whole horde of infected and a bloater by himself. He was exhausted. He needed this to be a dream. How was he going to make you relive your husband’s death when you were so out of it?

“(Name), we need to get you to the clinic, c’mon, you need to get your knee checked, Sister”, Tommy forced down his sobs and tried to distract you. You pushed away from him and tried to sit up, your eyes darting everywhere.

“N-no. Where’s Joel, Tommy? He was right here with me-” Tommy stopped you and held you by your arms. “Sweetheart, look at me”, he requested gently.

You reluctantly brought your eyes back to Tommy’s and saw his grim face. His eyes were bloodshot and filled to the brim with tears, his expression so pained that you thought he was injured.

“Why are you crying, Tommy? What’s wrong? And where’s Joel, please-” “He’s not coming back….he’s not coming back, (Name), please”, Tommy trailed off and broke out in a sob.

You froze. And it all came back to you. Abby. Manny. The torture. The killing. Ellie’s sobs. Joel’s screams. And you? Lying there, helpless. Doing nothing to help him or protective him.

You shook your head vehemently, still in denial about everything. “No…no. Tommy, don’t.” Tommy squeezed your arms and looked up at you, his eyes conversing everything to you. He was a mess. His face was damp, his nose was red, his lips wouldn’t stop quivering.

“Take me to him, please, Tommy. I need to see him. One last time, please. Please”, you begged him desperately, wanting to say goodbye to your heart one last time. Tommy looked at you in sympathy and nodded his head solemnly. He supported you with his arms and took you to the small morgue that they had kept Joel’s body in.

You entered the room and saw the body bag that was as tall as your husband. You almost stumbled but Tommy’s supportive arms held you up against him. Tommy brought you closer to the stretcher and you stared at it blankly.

“I want to see his face.”

Tommy looked at you in pain and shook his head, “You don’t have to-” “I want to”, you demanded. Tommy clenched his jaw tight- he hadn’t seen his brother’s messed up face yet. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to. But who was he to deny your request to see your husband for the last time?

So he came around the stretcher and slowly unwrapped the bag, Joel’s graying curls coming into view first and then- Tommy gasped and stumbled back. His face was completely caked with blood, his left eye swollen shut, big cuts across his forehead and a gaping wound in his neck. Tommy wanted to throw up. Just yesterday he had seen his brother playing with his son. Tommy kept his eyes on you, anticipating your reaction. Jesse had told him he found you just lying there next to Joel’s body the whole time and Tommy damn near cried after hearing that.

Your breathing picked up and a sob tore through your throat. His gorgeous, handsome face was completely wrecked. That evil fucking girl had done this to your Joel. You panted and ran a shaking hand through his curls and laid your forehead against them. Your cries shook his body and Tommy turned his head to focus on the wall, his chest hurting at the sound of your cries.

You pressed your lips against his forehead. “I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m so fucking sorry. I couldn’t protect you. You deserved better, baby. I’m sorry. You were so brave and I love you so much. Please, wake up for me, baby. Please-” you choked against your tears and brought him closer to you with an arm across his unmoving chest. Which broke your heart further because you wouldn’t hear his heartbeat against your ear ever again. You wouldn’t feel his chest go up and down when you cuddled him. No matter how much you pleaded, he wasn’t coming back.

“Sweetheart, we gotta go”, Tommy whispered and laid a hand on your back. You pressed a parting kiss against Joel’s cold lips. You turned to face Tommy with a devastating look in your eyes.

“Tommy th-they were so cruel. They were so cruel. They didn’t let me help him. He was in so much pain, Tommy, he was screaming so much. They didn’t let me help him. They made him sit there on the cold floor with his injured knee- he couldn’t even- he-”, you let out a sob and held onto Tommy’s forearms for support, “she wouldn’t stop punching him. He tried to get up for Ellie but she-she stabbed him. He saved her life and she still stabbed him- Tommy- we- we need to find them. I need to fucking kill them-please-���, you were hyperventilating at this point, your entire body shaking with fury and sadness.

Tommy’s face twisted before he brought you into his chest and let you sob against his throat. He held you tightly against him and glanced at his big brother and shushed you gently, "I know, sister. We will. I promise you, we will. I know. I’ve got you", he cradled your head against him and let you cry, supporting your weak body in his protective arms. He felt his insides curl with anger and revenge. He would make sure he hunted down those bastards and he would kill them. For you. For his brother.

For now, he would carry you to the clinic and get your knee checked and him and Maria would look after you and Ellie, just like a family is supposed to. Just like his brother had done for his entire life and sacrificed his life for. Just like how he had promised his brother he would look after you if something happened to him.

And you? You'd go to your room and open the wardrobe, pull his favorite flannel close to your face, breath in the warm and comforting scent of your husband and curl up on his side of the bed. You'd wish you'd saved time in a bottle and open it whenever you wished to just to look at all the memories with Joel, you'd wish you'd taken your last breath lying next to your heart-your husband, you'd wish you could have one last chance to gaze into your Joel's loving brown eyes and hear him say he loves you.

For now, you'd bury your face in his flannel and cry yourself to sleep until you could kill that girl who murdered your husband.

-

AN: this was a labour of love. I miss Joel a whole lot and i feel my chest hurt everytime i think of it. anyways, im sorry for the pain and a fix it fic after this i promise <3

[eden031]

No Myrna!

Pairing: Michael „Robby“ Robinavitch x chief resident!f! reader

Warnings: fluff, age gap, mentions of death and injury, mentions of amputation, the Pitt crew being a dysfunctional family, Myrna being Myrna, reader can be read as autistic though it is not explicitly stated, Myrna ships it, unaccurate depiction of how hospitals work, medical inaccuracies

Summary: Some days begin bad and only get worse as the day goes on, but sometimes at the end of it it is all worth it.

Words: 6.2 k

A/N: Hey, so I still wrote this. The next part for ‚First meetings‘ is currently in progress and so is the second part of ‚Sweet boy‘, though I cannot promise to update as frequently as I have in the past few days due to Uni starting again and I don‘t know how much writing I will be able to get done between assignments. I still hope you enjoy :)

It was one of those days, one of those days that promised to be horrendous from the moment they started. It started with a malfunctioning alarm, making her wake up way too late. A hastily prepared, then dropped breakfast, spilled coffee, a quick scrub change that ended in her almost hitting her head on the dresser. Almost getting run over by a total of four cars and she had not even reached the hospital at that point.

Inside the hospital it only got worse, barely not slipping on something wet, something that looked suspiciously like pee, though she was not sure if it was human or animal pee, but honestly she did not care. Nearly being elbowed by a patient in the face as she made her way through the waiting room to get to the ED she finally slipped into the controlled chaos of The Pitt.

Just ducking out of the way in time an empty bedpan came flying at her head. Quickly she made her way towards the breakroom. If this day could get any worse she really hoped that she would not have to be part of it. Setting her backpack down she opened it only to realise her lunch was not in there, nor was her beloved thermos filled with Chai. They must still be sitting safely on the kitchen counter in her apartment. A long sigh escaped her as she leaned against the chair, eyes closed, her shift had not even started yet and she was about to have a breakdown already.

„Morning, Sunshine,“ the gravelly voice of the night shift attending, a hint of humour in his tone as she glared up at him.

„Morning,“ she grumbled at the man who let out a low whistle, „What do you want?“ she sighed, rubbing her face, hoping that the man was just there to check in on her and not deliver some kind of news. As she looked up she saw his expression, mild worry, but also amusement mixed with something that looked like guilt.

„Don‘t tell me, let me guess,“ she sighed, she knew that look well, it was the same look Robby would give her when he told her that they were understaffed, „We are severely understaffed today.“

„Bingo,“ Abbot sighed, crossing his arms in front of his chest, „Collins, McKay and Mohan all called in sick, you also want all the nurses that are not there?“ His tone was not amused, as she buried her face in her hands, just shaking her head.

„And the med students?“ she asked, hopeful that at least one of them might have called in sick. It was not that she hoped that they were sick, it was simply that with this rotation of med students and the new intern she only really liked one of them.

„All in today,“ Abbot spoke softly as she let out another low groan. This was really not the news she wanted to have to deal with right now. That would mean that shit would really hit the fan today.

„So who is coming in for backup?“ she asked, „It can‘t just be Robby, Dr. King, the med students and I, right?“ she asked. The expression on Abbot‘s face said more than enough as she asked the question.

„Seriously?“ she asked, „No backup?“ she was starting to boil, this was not something she could deal with right now.

„I‘m staying, working a double so you guys aren‘t that understaffed, but…“ Abbot trailed off, gesturing with his hand in the air.

„No one can come in?“ she gaped at him, feeling like he was trying to pull a joke on her, a really bad one at that.

„Almost everyone‘s sick,“ Abbot explained. She hated flu season more than anything, because even if you wore a mask full time in the ED, you would still get sick at some point and apparently the entire Pitt crew was knocked out.

„May God help us all,“ she muttered as she got up from her seat, walking over to Abbot. „Thanks for sticking around,“ she smiled at him, he simply nodded, gently patting her back. They started walking towards central, as they reached the most open part of the ED she could see Gloria walking around, talking to Robby.

She looked around for the transfer notes Ellis had written for her and Collins, though she knew that these were now mostly her patients, glancing at the board she knew that today would get even worse than it had already been until now. Dr. King seemed to have been put in charge of triage, something she was incredibly thankful for, this was not something she needed on her plate now as well.

„So which Med Student do you want to drag around all day?“ Abbot asked as he also glared at the board like it had personally offended him.

„Just keep Santos off my back and I am happy,“ she muttered, glancing over to the side she could see the intern and two med students chatting amongst themselves, „I think Javadi should help with triage, she has some experience there,“ she muttered.

„So you are giving me the honour of working with Dr. Santos?“ Abbot asked, a half teasing tone in his voice, she gave him a mildly annoyed glance. She thought Santos was full of potential, could make a great doctor, but she thought she would fit better in surgery. Her bedside manner lacked to an extent that was almost painful.

„Yeah,“ she nodded, „Please, I know you are a lot better at handling people like that,“ she sighed, giving Abbot a pleading look.

„I know someone that has a lot more patience and a firm but gentle hand that could use some practice working with people like that,“ his voice was still teasing and she shook her head. He was right, she needed to work with people like Santos more often. Robby told her as much, that had been one of the reasons she had ended up in his ED and not in surgery, the simple fact that she could not stand people like Santo.

„Shut up,“ she gave him a glare as she took a deep breath. Suddenly even over the chaos of the Pitt she heard soft tapping of feet, accompanied by the squeaking of wheelchair wheels.

No, please, not today.

„Hey there, sweet cheeks,“ the voice of Myrna came from behind her. Turning her head slightly she gave the older woman a long, hard glare.

„Good morning, Myrna,“ she said in a tight voice. Usually she found some amusement in the older woman, but today she was really not in the mood for her shenanigans.

“Your boyfriend is looking for you, sweet cheeks,“ Myrna nodded in the direction of Dr. Robby. A low groan escaped her at that, most days when Myrna would call Dr. Robby her boyfriend she would get at least a bit flustered, but right now her nerves were already frayed and she was not sure how much of this she could deal with today.

„Myrna,“ she drew out the older woman‘s name in a warning, „Dr. Robby is not my boyfriend, but thank you for letting me know he is looking for me,“ she muttered under her breath as she turned to head towards Robby. Abbot gave her a pat on the back, a reassuring smile on his lips as she started walking away from Myrna she heard her voice again.

„Whatever you say, sweet cheeks,“ then she heard her tone shifting again, probably starting to flirt with Abbot. As she reached Robby Gloria was still following him around, talking to him about patient satisfaction, again. Telling him how his department needed to get better numbers or otherwise the risk of them getting shut down was going to rise. Her brow twitched at that, this was seriously going to be her final straw for the day. As Robby saw her his frown disappeared for a brief moment, but reappeared as Gloria continued to yap in his ear.

„Fucking hell!“ she snapped at Gloria, surprising both Robby and Gloria, but mostly herself „You don‘t work down here and all you do is complain and complain and complain!“ she felt the building anger and frustration of the barely started day begin to manifest, her mind was reeling, she needed to get herself to calm down again. „You don‘t know what it is like to have to work with a barely existent team! You sit in your office all day and complain and complain about our performance!“ Before she was able to say another word, Robby put a hand on her shoulder, stepping towards her.

„Alright, Gloria I think you have heard that speech already,“ Robby gave the CMO an angry glare.

„That discussion is not over yet, Robinavitch!“ With an angry huff she walked past them, not before shooting her a disapproving glare.

„You okay there?“ Robby asked after Gloria was out of earshot. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment then nodded slightly.

„Just a really rough start to the day,“ she whispered, like it was some deep secret. Robby gave her a worried glance, raising his brow in question.

„Robby,“ she took a deep breath, knowing that the following statement would probably explain to him how bad her mood was, „I can feel the part of my scrubs where I cut off the label rubbing against my neck and I feel like my whole body is on fire, I can hear every single sound in my vicinity and it feels like my brain is about to go into an overload induced shut down, so yeah, a really rough start to the day,“ she gave Robby a pointed look at her, slowly lifting his hand from her shoulder. A soft sigh escaped her, usually if it were anyone else that had touched her this long she would have snapped at them in the mood she was currently in, but Robby‘s hand on her shoulder had been a reassurance of some sort, comforting, grounding.

„Okay, I get that, but I need you here with me right now, okay?“ His voice was gentle as he spoke to her. She nodded slightly as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

„You take Whitaker with you, I will make sure he stays on track so you don‘t have to worry about that as well. Stay on top of the higher risk patients Ellis handed you over, Abbot will make sure the lower risk patients are cared for. For incoming traumas today it will be you and Whitaker, alright, I will join you if I can, but right now we will have to make sure that we stay on top of everything, okay.“ It was just a rundown of the plan. A rundown of the way they would be operating today and for some reason it was probably a greater comfort than anything else he could have told her. The instructions were clear, care for the high risk patients, handle incoming traumas. Everyone else would have to find a way to deal with their plates during this shift.

“Thanks, Robby,” she gave him a small smile. Robby never failed to help her in situations like this, always knowing what to say or what to do, he had this way about him when he talked to her like this. Taking deep breaths, she tried to focus on what was important right now, deep breaths, be nice to the kid, take care of the patients.

“Of course,” slowly he reached out, giving her time to say something if she didn't want him to touch her. Nodding softly she gave Robby a quick smile, he gently padded her shoulder.

“And remember to eat and drink something,” he gently spoke. Nodding slowly she squared her shoulders, readying herself for the worst thing that could happen during this shift.

——————

Whitaker had joined her quickly, she had put him on two cases they needed to take care of, just getting the history of the patients and a basic workup before their exam and treatment. He had handled that rather well and had even given minor treatment orders to the people he had seen, already lifting some work from her. She still checked up on them, calling radiology or surgery to get these people in line for whatever they needed.

A bicycle accident had come in as a trauma, she and Whitaker had been able to handle it quickly, sending the man to the CT and then to the OR within twenty minutes. The guy had been complaining the entire time, threatening to sue her and the hospital if he wouldn’t be able to ride a bicycle angin.

She had yelled at the Attending of Cardiology when he had bitched about not having enough beds for the cardiology cases she needed to send upstairs. Both had major heart issues, even if it was not a heart attack they would still receive much better and safer care in cardiology. He had folded after she had told him that she would be sending them up anyway, even if he told her that there was no room, which she knew was bullshit because Esme had told her that three beds in cardiology had opened up. While all this was happening there was one major annoyance always not too far away from her: Myrna.

“No Myrna!” she had shouted as she saw the older woman trying to roll out of the ambulance bay door, rolling her back she had put the brakes back into place, leaving the woman at the nurses’ station. Whitaker, the poor guy, had gotten an obscene amount of bodily fluids over him during the entire shift and she was just glad that this was not her.

Another trauma had come in, this time a kid that had fallen off the balcony on the second floor. His mother had screamed in her ear the entire time, elbowed her in the stomach twice and once accidentally hit her in the throat with an open hand. They had gotten him stabilised as well, sending him up for a CT and then neurology, she had yelled at the chief resident there, telling him that they currently had not the capacity to deal with a potentially paralyzed seven year old. He had simply muttered something about his Attending killing him, but had taken the kid upstairs.

“No Myrna!” she had shouted as Myrna seemed to be heading straight for the men’s restroom. Pulling the wheelchair backwards towards the disabled bathroom.

“Or I can get you a bedpan,” she had told Myrna with a deadly glare. The older woman had simply lifted her hands, grinning like a cheshire cat and agreed to use the bedpan. It was like she was trying to get on her nerves today.

“Just tell your boyfriend that I am missing him today!” Myrna sighed as she handed her the clean bedpan. A groan left her lips as she heard Dana shouting at her that they had a motorcycle accident victim coming in hot via air transport.

They had headed to the roof, just her, Whitaker and Robby. The EMT’s had helped bring the man into trauma 2, getting him on the gurney and making him comfortable. He had practically been sliced in half, there was nothing they could really do, it was a miracle the man had even survived that long. They pumped him full of morphine and tried to stop the bleeding as best they could, luckily thanks to the EMT’s they knew that he had a DNR so when his heart stopped they simply turned off the monitor and had to move on.

The wife and kids of the motorcycle accident victim had arrived only about ten minutes after he had passed away. His wife had yelled at her for not doing more to save her husband even after she had explained the DNR and the issue with his injuries to her. She had tried to punch her, then was escorted out of the ED while she was still screaming and thrashing around, swearing to sue the hospital.

She had called Dr. Shamsi, this time she had not yelled at the person she was talking to over the phone. Nicely asking if she had the capacity to take one of her patients into an OR ASAP, luckily Shamsi still owed her for something so that was quickly done and another bed was freed up.

An amputation of the left leg at the knee had been brought in, they had stopped the bleeding, pumped the man full of morphine, called radiology, booked him an x-ray and a CT, bumped a few other people waiting, but got him off their hands rather quickly, especially since they still had the limb and surgery would take him quickly to make sure that they could still try and reattach the leg.

“Uhm…sorry?” Whitaker asked as she stared at the board trying to make a mental checklist of people she could move around or discharge, though most of the patients she was seeing were not ready to be discharged yet.

“What, Whitaker?” she asked, glancing over to him, he stood beside her, staring at the empty space where Myrna’s wheelchair had been only five minutes ago.

“Oh shit no!” she cried out, looking around she saw Abbot talking to one of the nurses, Santos running around like a headless chicken.

“Abbot!” she shouted as loudly as she could, his head snapped towards her, “Do you know where Myrna is?” He just shrugged and shook his head.

“Well, shit!” she cursed, looking around she saw one of the nursing students looking a little lost, like he had no task. “Terry, come here,” she gestured him over to her, “I have a very important task for you,”

Terry had luckily found Myrna, it had taken him almost half an hour, but he had found the woman, something she was incredibly grateful for, especially since in this half hour she had been able to finish up a few cases for Abbot who seemed to be a bit overloaded with them. A fight bite, a kid who had broken his arm, an elderly woman that had broken her hip, a young guy that had gotten his hand stuck in a bottle.

“You know you and your boyfriend make a really cute couple,” Myrna almost purred, “But I have to say that I am kind of jealous of you, I would like to get a taste of that ass,”

��Jesus Christ, no Myrna, for the last time he is not my boyfriend!” she groaned as she headed towards a room in which Dr. King had just deposited an agitated twenty five year old that was vomiting blood.

That case was solved quickly after asking a few questions and finding out that he had a nosebleed and had put his head up instead of down and had swallowed a whole lot of blood. Still she had done an ultrasound and ordered a CT to rule out anything serious. Whitaker was also running around now, helping an asthmatic patient, doing sutures on another one, taping wounds shut or helping out where an extra pair of hands was needed.

Another trauma rolled in, a teen that had been electrocuted by the neighbours new electric fence. Garcia from surgery came down for that, she had tried really hard not to yell at the woman that frayed her nerves on the best of days, but today was not a good day so she had yelled at her as well. Telling her to suck it up and just take the kid that clearly needed surgery for his arm upstairs.

“You know, I never thought I would say that, but…” Robby trailed off as he watched Garcia take the teenager upstairs for surgery, “You in a bad mood really makes all the difference on a bad day, maybe we need you in a bad mood on more days, you have been clearing beds and moving patients like there is no tomorrow,” Robby gave her a small grin as she rubbed her face, feeling like her head was about to explode. She looked at Robby, not being able to suppress her annoyance.

“You can be lucky I didn’t kill anyone yet,” she muttered looking around, “Though you might be getting a complaint about me from cardiology and neurology,” she muttered under her breath, trying to keep herself from shutting down. The only thing that kept her brain from going into a complete shutdown and probably meltdown was the adrenaline pumping through her system. Taking a shuddering breath she was about to bolt towards central again when Robby grabbed her arm.

“Did you eat something?” he asked, giving her a concerned look. His big brown eyes looked like a puppy as he stared at her.

“Robby it is not even noon yet, I don’t need lunch right now,” she grumbled and was about to rip her arm from his grasp when he pulled out a protein bar from the front pocket of the jacket he was wearing.

“Eat that now, I don’t care if you eat it in two bites, just eat it,” Robby’s expression was stern as he handed her the protein bar, giving her hand a slight squeeze as he handed it over to her. Quickly unwrapping it she thanked him quietly and left the room, wolfing it down in three quick bites.

Hysterical screaming came from somewhere, deciding that it was best to head in that direction. She saw a woman holding her own hand, and for a moment it did not register in her mind what was wrong with that image, but then she saw it. She was the woman literally holding her own hand and for a moment she wondered what it was with all these amputations today. Bringing the woman to a room she quickly took care of everything, also putting her in line for an x-ray, calling surgery to give them a heads up about another amputation.

“You know, my husbands never made sure that I ate, and you insist that he is not even your boyfriend,” Myrna tutted from behind her as she leaned against a work station, feeling her back pop in a few places as she stretched it.

“Myrna…” she sighed, rubbing her forehead. For a moment she wanted to yell ‘No, Myrna!’ again, but her thought process was interrupted by Whitaker yelling.

“I need a little help here! Code blue!” he shouted. He sounded a little panicky as she saw him, grabbing a pair of gloves she started running towards the room. A group of nurses already brought the crash cart with them. As she entered the room Whittaker was already doing chest compression. It wasn't even five minutes and the patient was back again, taking a deep breath as she did an exam, trying to find out what was wrong. Waiting for lab results would probably bring some clarity to that situation.

The day went on and after what felt like an entire gruelling shift it was only noon. Standing at a workstation she quickly typed in the information for the chart.

“Here you go,” Robby appeared right beside her, a mug of something that smelled like chai and a sandwich in hand. A laugh escaped her as she pulled out a sandwich from her scrub pocket. It was egg salad, something she knew Robby loved.

“Thanks,” she took the mug of chai, the sandwich, handed Robby his sandwich and gave him a small smile.

“Of course, can’t have my best resident collapse by the end of this shift,” he smiled at her as he unwrapped his sandwich as well, they ate in silence while both of them filled out a few charts.

A groan echoed from somewhere near them. Myrna was watching them, shaking her head like she could not believe what she was seeing.

“No Myrna!” both of them groaned at the same time, “Don’t even say it,” Robby shook his head as he got up from his chair, giving her a gentle pat on the back.

“You got this,” he smiled at her as he disappeared into the depths of the ED, looking over her shoulder she could see Abbot leaning against the nurses’ station, looking like a ghost on two legs, at least to the people that knew him. Getting up from her seat she grabbed a sandwich off the tray and threw it towards him. A quick smile on her lips as he caught it, toasting it towards her with a small smile.

Hurrying off, she continued to treat patients. Broken bones, deep cuts, other issues. She tried her best to keep up with everything.

Patient yelled at her, threatened her, one even spit her in the face. The only reason she had not punched him being that Whitaker had somehow in his awkward and yet adorable fashion deescalated the situation.

“No Myrna!” she hollered across the ED as she saw the older woman trying to escape once again. She didn’t even have to start moving, Robby already there, turning Myrna around and pushing her back towards where they usually parked her. A relieved sigh escaped her lips as she was able to head off again.

Time dragged on and the day felt like it was never going to be over. More angry patients about the long wait times, more agitated people, more people that were yelling and luckily at some point amidst all the chaos of the day shift change arrived. It went relatively smoothly and she was able to leave the ED by eight sharp.

“Hey!” Princess shouted, “Do you want to join us in the park?” She tilted her head towards the park where she knew the rest of the Pitt crew sometimes spent their evenings. For a moment she hesitated, she had the feeling that this day would only get worse if she decided to stay outside for much longer, but as she saw Abbot and Robby standing with Princess she simply nodded quietly.

“Yeah, why not,” she whispered softly as she trudged along with them, at the front of the hoard were Santos, Whitaker and Javadi, chattering about something. In all honesty she was not sure how the three got along, but apparently things like a mass casualty event bring people together. Abbot and Robby were talking in hushed voices, like they were sharing some kind of secret with each other. Finally they reached the park benches, a long groan escaped her as she was finally able to take a seat. Her legs hurt like hell and she saw Abbot taking off his prosthetic, a sigh of relief coming from him.

Beside her Robby was moving his hand around his backpack. Suddenly he let out a sound that was oddly close to pride as he pulled out a small bag. Quickly opening it he smiled softly.

“Come on, hand out,” he gently nudged her side as she stared at him for a moment, confusion settling in her mind, though she was too tired to argue, simply holding her hand out. Carefully he tilted the paper bag and from it dropped a few roasted almonds into the palm of her hand.

Her eyes went wide as she saw them hitting her hand. A bright smile grew on her lips as she looked at Robby.

“Thanks,” she grinned at him, picking up one of them and popping it in her mouth. As she chewed on the sweet almond a soft sigh escaped her. Around her the chatter continued, she continued to snack on the almonds, feeling a single hot tear of gratitude run down her cheek, quickly she wiped it away.

“You okay?” Robby gave her a gentle smile as he looked over at her, a beer in his hand. His big brown eyes that were always so full of worry fixed on her.

“Just,” she looked at the roasted almonds in her hand, she choked slightly, “This just made my day,” she whispered, smiling tiredly at him. “How did you know?” she asked in a quiet tone so that the others around them wouldn’t hear them.

“You mentioned once that these were your favorite snacks after a rough shift, so I decided to get some in case you need a ‘little pick me up’ from time to time,” he smiled at her. She could feel her face getting hot as she nodded softly.

“Can I?” she gently nodded in the direction of his shoulder, she knew that Robby didn’t always want to be touched, just like her, so she just wanted to make sure she didn’t overstep. Especially after this rough of a shift.

“Of course,” he gave her a soft smile. Scotting a bit closer she felt their arms brush, leaning her head against his shoulder was a relief, his warmth a great comfort, the feeling of his breaths calming in a way that little else was to her nowadays. Closing her eyes she simply listened to the conversation around her. Almost about to fall asleep when Whitaker’s voice pulled her out of the lull.

“Who is Myrna talking about when referring to her,” she opened her eyes slightly, seeing Whitaker gesture in her direction. “Boyfriend?”

The question hung in the air for a moment before she heard laughing coming from somewhere beside her, it was definitely Abbot laughing.

“Ah, come on man,” Robby grumbled, she could feel the vibrations of his voice against the crown of her head.

“Whitaker,” Abbot laughed again, he was probably shaking his head. There was a long silence, then a deep breath. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Yeah, sorry, Dr. Robby, but I thought you were her partner and Myrna was just always referring to someone else being her partner,” Whitaker sounded mildly embarrassed.

“Honestly, same,” she heard Santos, then a few gulps, probably drowning the rest of her beer can.

“Why does everyone think we are a couple?” Robby sounded mildly confused, amusement lacing his voice. A few beats of silence.

“You are literally letting her sleep on your shoulder,” Abbot sounded so amused that she had to refrain from opening her eyes. “And you hate almonds,” there was a pause, “You carry around almonds for her, you wouldn’t eat them even if it was your only option,” Abbot repeated his statement.

“And you bring her food,” Princess now chimed in. There was a low agreement of murmurs, then another voice spoke up.

“And you bring her tea,” Donnie, he sounded like he was about to start laughing.

“Oh, and I still remember that look on your face when that patient was flirting with her last week, you looked like you wanted to rip that guy’s head off,” Jesse spoke in his usual soft and measured tone, though there was a certain amusement to it as well.

For a moment these statements hung in the air, weighing down the atmosphere, then a soft laugh came from Robby. She was shaken slightly and let out a quiet huff of dissatisfaction, the shaking stopped slowly.

“I guess we do act like a couple,” he sighed, running his hand over face, at least that's what it felt like.

“And it’s a damn shame you aren’t actually one,” Abbot sounded like he had told Robby that countless times already. Slowly she started to blink, opening her eyes she let out a soft yawn, the chilly air in the park made her shiver slightly as she sat up straight again.

“You got a jacket?” Robby asked her as he looked at the goosebumps on her arms. Giving him a sheepish smile she shook her head, before she was able to say anything Robby had already unzipped his hoodie, slipping out of it.

“No, Robby,” she shook her head, stopping him in his motions, gently placing her hand on his. “It’s alright,” she smiled at him, simply wrapping her arms around herself. Glancing to the side she could see the looks being exchanged between the others.

The evening wore on, from time to time she could see Robby twitching when she rubbed her arms. Slowly but surely everyone started heading home until it was just her and Robby sitting on the park bench. Glancing over at him she smiled softly, his features were only illuminated by the dim light from the lantern near them. He looked magnificent with his hair slightly mussed and eyes half closed because he was so tired.

“I think I should head home,” his voice cracked slightly as he was about to get up. She was not sure what possessed her to do it, but she grabbed his hand. The warmth sent a slight shiver down her spine as she squeezed it.

“Thank you, Robby,” she whispered, giving him a watery smile.

“For what?” he looked slightly confused, now standing, looking down at her with those big brown eyes.

“For caring about me,” it sounded so strange to say out loud. Yet she squeezed his hand softly, trying to keep herself from saying more, the tiredness in her bones and yearning in her heart almost too much.

“Of course,” he spoke softly, he sighed, “Do you want company?” he sounded so unsure, like he was proposing something scandalous.

“Yes,” she nodded, it was hard for her to admit these things. She had been alone for such a long time that even asking for something as simple as that felt like a burden.

“Alright, come on,” he did not let go of her hand as he pulled her up from where she was sitting on the bench, picking up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. During the walk to Robby’s place they never let go of each other’s hands, like it was the only way to not lose each other in a crowded room, though the streets were empty.

At his place he had turned on the lights, offered her something to eat, something proper. Together they ate the leftovers in silence, no words needed to be exchanged between them, at least no right now. As the plates were empty the silence stretched on, sitting at the kitchen table in the dim light of his apartment for the first time it felt like whatever had been building between them had come to a peak. The years of shared pain, the years of shared fear, anger and resentment against the world, the loneliness that could threaten to consume someone even when surrounded by people.

After a moment Robby got up, putting the plates into the dishwasher, he leaned against the kitchen counter for a long moment, staring at the washing machine.

“Do you want to stay?” his voice was soft, glancing over his shoulder she could see the pain in his eyes.

“If it’s alright with you,” she answered in a hushed tone, afraid that if she spoke any louder the moment might shatter. That she would wake up in the ED because she had been knocked out by a patient and all of this was just a dream, just a fantasy her mind had conjured up.

“It is,” he nodded, then left the kitchen, for a moment she was concerned, not sure where he had gone. Then he returned two neatly folded items of clothing in his hands. “I guess you don’t want to sleep in your scrubs,” his tone sounded light and for a moment she thought that she could get used to this.

“Yes, thank you,” getting up from where she was sitting and taking the clothes from Robby.

It was a pair of his joggers and an old worn out t-shirt that smelled like him. Changing in the bathroom she put her scrubs into the washing machine, Robby put it on for a quick load, they settled on the couch while they waited for the washing machine to finish, she was snuggled up beside him, her head resting against his chest. Neither of them really acknowledged the fact that they both knew that there was no going back from this, that they had crossed a line on which they had been teetering for way too long.

The beeping sounded, she put everything into the dryer, putting that on. Robby started turning off the lights as they reached the bedroom he picked up a pillow. Shaking her head she had gently wrangled it out of his hands again, putting it on the bed.

Together they settled under the soft covers and for the first time in what felt like forever her mind stopped going in circles as she laid down, the comforting weight of Robby behind her. The first time in forever that when she laid down to sleep she was not plagued by anxiety or the feeling of shame, at that moment it was simple, it was easy, it was peaceful. Though the last thought that crossed her mind before she slipped off to sleep was the way she had hollered ‘No Myrna!’ across the ED and the expression on Robby’s face when he had looked at her while wheeling Myrna back to the nurses’ station. That warmth, that fondness wrapping around her mind like a warm blanket.

[steviewashere]

I don't know when I'll have the time to write this, but:

CW: Minor Mentions of Blood, Character Illness (Hanahaki), Use of Queer as a Slur

Hanahaki AU. Steve develops hanahaki over Eddie. It's not because, oh, Eddie's probably straight and doesn't know I'm into guys...

No, it's because, oh, Eddie doesn't want to be very close to me due to previous hangups he has.

Cut to Steve coughing up dark purple, almost black petals. Soft and wet and sticky to his fingers. Then, after some time, they become small buds. Small black rose buds with gentle, prickly thorns sprouting in his throat.

People around them find out quickly, very quickly, that Steve is experiencing Hanahaki. Everybody, sans Eddie himself, finds out they're related to Eddie—even as these black roses symbolize hatred, even as they come close to death and mourning in their meaning—they're still perfectly Eddie in color, shape, and beauty. Obviously, since nobody wants Steve to, y'know, die, they tell him to confess to Eddie.

However, Steve is faced with a secondary option at one of his doctor visits. A surgery. The petals can be removed, the thorns torn out and tossed, his lungs cleared...but his brain shocked empty of all traces of Eddie. All traces. He wouldn't know Eddie as he is now. He wouldn't know Eddie from when Dustin would ramble on and on and on about his new guy best friend. He wouldn't know Eddie as the mischievous troublemaker in high school.

And he especially wouldn't know Eddie as his childhood best friend that he drifted apart from many, many years ago. Nobody but them knows that part.

And soon, through decision, through the fear of death...Steve chooses to forget that part, too. He chooses to remove Eddie from his conscious. Every last part of him. With the decision made, the party members keep Eddie away, Robin goes through Steve's room and hides anything he has of Eddie's—including a little memory box of their childhood photographs, little trinkets he'd receive from Eddie, doodles and crushed flowers...crushed flowers that look similar to the ones Steve coughed up with a note attached to them: "For the prince to my prince. Mama said they're for royal people, and I thought they were beautiful. These are for you, because you're beautiful, too."

Steve kept all of it. Tucked neatly away for nobody but him to see. All these delicate, baby confessions of two queer kids in rural America, waiting for the right moment; though never getting that after a fall out in their relationship.

According to Eddie, the two drifted away due to rhetoric Steve's dad was spouting; rhetoric that was being passed on and spat right at Eddie's face from Steve's mouth. Even if he saw Steve change during and after Vecna, he'll always remember the last big fight in their friendship; the day he was called a queer.

When Eddie finds out, he's beyond devastated that Steve would make the choice to forget him. He gets it, Steve didn't want to die. He knows. But now he doesn't even have a spot in Steve's life? It cuts deep, it hurts.

He knows so much about Steve. Little details. Favorite things. Where his moles are. How he styles his hair. What he looked like before braces, before Tommy, before high school bullshit, before all the traumas. He knows who Steve really is, sweet and nurturing and nearly unbearably kind.

And now Steve doesn't know him. Doesn't love him.

He wishes he knew, because then they wouldn't be in this mess.

But Eddie gets to fall in love with Steve all over again. Shake his hand and introduce himself. Even though he wishes they could meet each other as kids, just like they did. Because Eddie remembers a dorky, geeky, self-conscious, timid little kid quietly asking him if they could play princes on the playground. And Steve remembers Eddie at twenty-one, full grown and stubborn; not the same shy kid, not the bubbly kid...just a man haunted.

But! Plot twist!!!

What if, yeah, Steve does forget Eddie...initially?

He meets Eddie again, for the first time. He gets to know Eddie. He begins a friendship with Eddie.

And then he begins getting these awful...awful migraines being around Eddie. Flashes of fractured, half-formed memories of some kid with big brown eyes and a shaved head, of a kid crouched down in wood chips trying to find a guitar pick he had dropped. Little glimpses of smiles: some with teeth missing, some with teeth growing back in, some with blood-stained lips, some with a blue tint. There's splintering voices, a little boy's and an older man's and a squeaky, pubescent voice—he hears his own name crackled around the edges, hears Prince Stevie cooed and King Steve snarled, soft words whispered through choking sobs and whip wild yelling.

He looks Eddie straight on at one point, his face open with concern, but all he sees is an angry, sobbing, red-faced, wet-faced little Eddie talking with Steve, "You think I'm...I'm a dirty queer? Why would you say that to me? No...no, Steve, keep your voice down, keep your voice"—and then, quieter, a whisper—"I thought I could trust you. I know I like boys, but that was a secret. You're an asshole, Steve. Go fuck yourself."

And when he blinks again, Eddie's concerned face staring back at him, all Steve does is cough and cough and cough. Eventually, he's hunched tight into himself and spitting directly into Eddie's palm. Out comes a fully formed black rose.

A bud that hadn't bloomed, that hadn't been removed. Sharp thorns and wet petals and an eye that swirls and swirls and swirls.

It all comes back to him, then, staring at that flower, floundering backwards, catching Eddie's eyes in a daze.

It all comes back to him.

How much he's always loved Eddie Munson.

Anyway, just like, a hanahaki surgery gone wrong, I guess. Like they all think it works until, y'know, it doesn't. They get close again and it floods back in. The very thing he tried to get away from.

I imagine that after Steve coughs up that fully formed rose, Eddie squishes it in his palm. The thorns cutting up his hand, the petals crushed between his fingers. And then he just...eats it. Like fully puts it on his tongue, chews it up between his teeth, and swallows the whole damn thing—yes, even the thorns. There's blood in his mouth, petals between his teeth, blood and drool on his hand.

And he lunges forward to grab Steve's face, to kiss him so roughly they could be devouring each other. And all they taste in each other are the bittersweet ghosts of black rose petals and the metallic harshness of one another's blood; Steve had hacked up blood, too, from the thorns cutting his throat.

And when they separate?

"You were the first boy I ever fell in love with," Eddie confesses, "you're the only boy I've ever loved. There's been nobody else in that place, Steve. Only you, after everything, have remained."

Okay. Now I'm done. I promise I'm done rambling. Would this be interesting as a fic? I don't know. It's fine.

[kxsagi]

Hellooooo so erm I’ve been following u and I have to say I love ur works sm, and I was wondering that if u don’t mind, could I send in a request?

So I’d like to request a reader who loves literature and who reads the most angsty pieces of literature and many different authors. Like a scenario where how the reader acts after reading the most angstiest book in all of literature (white nights for me 😔✌🏽) and then the characters catch her crying abt it and then theyre horrified cuz they don’t know what’s going on and then reader yaps abt the book

so yeah that’s it

it’s ok if u don’t wanna do it

bye

🫶🏽

“𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭”

a/n: hi! i was able to write a little bit about it since i know a bit of the story white nights... but only the general scope of it, still hope you enjoy!

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, bachira meguru, karasu tabito

itoshi rin

walks into the room and sees you absolutely sobbing. 

his immediate thought: someone died. 

his second thought: you’re breaking up with him. 

“what the hell happened? who do i have to kill?” 

you, sniffling: “... nastenka… she was in love with someone else… and he just let her go and was happy for her and–” 

he blinks. “who the hell is nas–” 

and suddenly you’re spiraling, explaining every detail of the story, your voice cracking as you quote the most heart-wrenching lines. you’re devastated. he is confused. 

rin: “is this a real person?” 

you: “NO THAT’S THE TRAGEDY!!!” 

he just sits there in silence. stunned. reevaluating how dangerous literature is. 

itoshi sae

walks in sipping a drink and sees you curled on the couch clutching a book like it betrayed you. 

“... you okay?” 

“no.” 

“... you hurt?” 

“not physically.” 

“... someone in the book died?” 

“no. worse.” 

he raises an eyebrow and sits down. listens to your dramatic retelling with a bored face, but he’s actually paying close attention. 

“… so he waited for her. and she just left?” 

“yes,” you cry. “AND HE WAS STILL HAPPY FOR HER.” 

he stares. nods slowly. “damn. even i wouldn’t do that.” 

actually kind of impressed by the emotional devastation. gives you a tissue and tells you he’s never letting you near russian literature again. 

isagi yoichi

he panics. so fast. sees your tears and is IMMEDIATELY on his knees beside you like “what happened? who hurt you? was it me?” 

you barely manage to whisper “... it was dostoyevsky…” 

he blinks. “who???” 

and then you launch into an emotional monologue about the book’s themes, the tragic character arcs, the lost love, the gut-wrenching ending. like you’ve fully become an english lit professor mid-breakdown. 

isagi is so overwhelmed. nodding too much. doesn’t know half the words you're using but he’s trying to comfort you like “i-i’m sure… the guy in the story… um. he’s okay now. in heaven maybe?” 

gives you hot chocolate and wraps you in a blanket. tells you to read something happier next time. like manga. specifically sports manga. 

mikage reo

thought someone harassed or assaulted you. got so scared. 

when you tell him you’re crying because a fictional man couldn’t be with his true love and just let her go… he’s SHOCKED at your loyalty to characters you’ve known for like 200 pages. 

“so like. this man just lost everything?” 

“YES.” 

“and you chose to read that?” 

he’s baffled. voluntarily choosing pain is not in his rich boy vocabulary. 

hugs you dramatically like he’s the one who lost nasenka. buys you a fancy notebook to “write your feelings.” starts researching classics so he can join your next breakdown. 

nagi seishiro 

“why are you crying?” 

you show him the book. he reads the first line and immediately goes “nope.” 

not built for literary pain. not even a little bit. 

listens to you rant while lying upside-down on the couch. looks vaguely horrified when you start passionately yelling about unrequited love. 

“why didn’t they just… text each other or something.” 

“nagi. it was 1848.” 

goes completely silent. 

“oh.” 

he lets you lie on his chest while you cry. plays soothing music in the background. he doesn’t understand it, but he respects it. kind of. 

bachira meguru

walks in while you’re sobbing and immediately gasps like he just read the ending. 

“WHAT HAPPENED WHO DIED I’M READY TO FIGHT.” 

you tell him it was a fictional man in 19th-century russia who just wanted to be loved. 

instantly invested. 

sits beside you, holding your hand, fully immersed as you retell the story. reacts to every twist like it’s a soap opera. 

“no way. she just left???” 

“AND HE WAS HAPPY FOR HER.” 

“BRO.” 

cries with you. then doodles little fanart of the characters afterward. names your tears “artistic expression.” dramatic soulmates. 

karasu tabito

sees you crying. looks around. sees no blood, no broken bones, no evidence of trauma. 

“you read something stupid again, didn’t you.” 

“it wasn’t stupid. it was tragic.” 

you start explaining it and he immediately starts judging the characters like a reality TV show host. 

“man had no self-respect. could’ve fumbled a rebound. what was he doing.” 

you get mad and defend the main character like he’s your son. karasu’s like “i’m just saying. love yourself, bro.” 

but secretly he memorizes the book title and reads it later so he can understand what made you cry that hard. will never admit he did, but starts casually quoting lines at you when you least expect it. bastard. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[divadepreshawn]

𝑨𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒏 𝑺𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓

Aaron Hotchner × fem!reader ×popstar

Okay, maybe I exaggerated a little, I don't know if this story makes sense because I've read and reread it a thousand times - and honestly at this point words and languages ​​seem like a distant concept. I swear I try not to write notes, but they are so cute. Aaron is secretly a big gossip, period. wc: 3 592 Omg😭😭 I took three exams worth 1,000 points. I got full marks in two and 950 (in math). CHAMPAGNE POP🍾 Continuation

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You had a date.

Romantic? Just friends?

It doesn’t matter because it was with him, and you would be whatever he needed right now. Talking to him was good, not just because he was handsome – that certainly didn’t hurt the eyes. But because you could be yourself. Not the star. Not the phenomenon. Not the face in the campaigns, on the covers, on the playlists of the whole world. And best of all? He sees you, appreciates your humor without the intention of adjusting it, accepts your excesses, your intensity, your clumsy way of expressing affection disguised as sarcasm.

This is so rare it hurts.

He’s not the kind of person who lies to please. You realized that the first time you met him, when he made no effort to pretend he knew who you were. And his frankness in admitting it was almost disconcerting. But more than that, there was a silent certainty – one that grew inside you every time he looked at you in silence.

He’s not going to expose you.

You just know. Even if everything goes wrong, he won’t turn memories into ammunition. He won’t rush to the first interview or podcast with twisted stories and empty words. Maybe this will all go up in smoke when the tour starts, when you’re crossing time zones and your schedule eats up everything. But for now, it’s worth a try.

You adjusted your dress one more time in front of the mirror, twisting your body from side to side to make sure it was exactly how you wanted it: elegant, sexy, but simple – as if you hadn’t spent a lot of time choosing it.

Were you looking forward to seeing Aaron again? Of course not, why would you be? Just because he’s gorgeous, smart, polite – and extremely hot? No, of course not. You’d just spent an hour on makeup, half an hour choosing the perfect dress, twenty minutes fixing your hair, and at least ten minutes applying your lotion and perfume. A self-esteem ritual that you followed to the letter.

But this has nothing to do with him, it’s about feeling good about yourself. Totally about that.

“Wow,” Lisa’s voice snapped you out of your trance. You blinked slowly, trying to absorb your own image in the mirror.

“Did I overdo it?” you asked, adjusting your diamond necklace as you watched her in the mirror.

She looked you up and down. “I wouldn’t say it was overdone…” she replied with an amused smile on her lips. “That outfit and that perfume. Do you want this man to survive dinner or are you trying to cause a breakdown in his nervous system?”

You let out a low laugh – which came out more nervous than you’d like to admit. “So, he could have run when I sent flowers to his office, but he didn’t. So I think he can handle this.”

She looked down at your body again, pointing to your ass. She looked back up at your eyes. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, I don’t think this man has ever seen an ass like that.”

“Lisa!” You scolded her with an incredulous laugh.

She just raises her arms in false surrender, her smile full of provocation. “Are you sure you’re not trying to give me a heart attack?”

“I’m not going to answer that.” You go to the closet to look for an oversized jacket that matches the dress.

“Cinderella, your Prince Charming is at the door-” Chris walks in with his cell phone in his hand, his sentence trailing off halfway. His eyes run up and down you, he stops, leaning against the doorframe. “Wow… I was going to make a joke,” he continues, still dazed. “Something like ‘don’t come back after midnight or I’ll turn you into a pumpkin’… but honestly? If this man has two brain cells working, he’ll propose to you before dessert.”

“I told you,” Lisa adds in the background, her arms crossed and a smug smile on her lips.

“You guys are a constant attack on my humility.” You stop in front of the mirror, taking one last look at your appearance, applying lip gloss with precision. Taking a deep breath, trying to keep calm. “Okay, wish me luck.”

“We know you, you’re not the one who needs luck. I just hope he doesn’t have a family history of heart disease.”

“Christopher,” you hummed in warning as you walked to the door. He held his hands up in surrender—clearly enjoying himself.

When you opened the door, for a full second you forgot how to breathe. There he was—standing just inside the entryway, in the soft light of the garden.

Aaron Hotchner.

His casual attire said more than any expensive suit ever could. The lack of a tie, the slight crease in his shirt sleeves, the perfectly tailored dark jeans—everything about him screamed carefully unpretentious elegance.

“You need to step up the—” the sentence trailed off in your throat as his eyes met yours.

You smile, frowning slightly. “I need to emphasize what exactly?”

“I… I was going to say something, but right now I can’t remember,” he confesses, almost in a whisper, his eyes still locked on you. “You look beautiful.”

Your smile grows. For a second, you forget the nervousness you’ve been feeling all afternoon. Everything feels so… light.

He swallows hard, trying to compose himself as he holds out the bouquet to you. “I… I got this for you.” The sound of your laughter as you accept the bouquet makes something bubble in his chest—had he really noticed how beautiful you are already?

“You’re officially forgiven,” you say, looking up at him over the petals. “But only because I brought flowers… and these jeans.”

He arches an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you,” you continue, your tone soft. “But I feel like I’m at a disadvantage. I might need to fill your office with flowers just to balance things out.”

He chuckles softly, opening the car door for you. “While I appreciate the thought, it would raise a lot of questions that I wouldn’t have the answers to. And consequently, my phone would be hacked before the third delivery.”

You nod slightly, settling into the seat. “Delivery before eight o’clock, noted.”

He gets in on the other side with a slight smile on his lips. “If I may ask, what’s the deal with the flowers?”

You smile, looking at the bouquet for a moment before turning your eyes back to him.

"They're pretty, they smell nice… they have this way of accompanying people on both good and bad days." You pause for a moment, looking away at the road ahead. "I usually send flowers when I want to thank or congratulate someone… Sometimes, just to let them know I'm thinking of them." An amused smile plays on your lips. "There's this crazy conspiracy theory that says I 'silence' my competitors. My fans like to joke that I send them flowers just so they know I know where they live."

He lets out a short laugh, looking at you as he keeps his hands firmly on the steering wheel. "Well, now I'm wondering why you want to fill my office with flowers."

"I can send one to thank you for picking me up, one to congratulate you on being so handsome, and one just to let you know I'm thinking of you." You shrug, your eyes turning to him with mock innocence. "You can interpret it however you want."

Aaron turns his head slightly, a smile playing on his lips. “I have to give credit to your quick wit, the way you combine conversation with flirting is admirable.”

You laugh, bowing. “It’s a gift, thank you.”

The rest of the ride was quiet, the silence between you comfortable. The restaurant was beautiful. The tables were dark wood, with crisp white tablecloths and fresh flowers in the center. The walls were adorned with subtle artwork and pendant lights that reflected a golden hue into the room, giving it a soft, cozy glow.

But the place felt… deserted.

You let Aaron guide you to a table, murmuring a “thank you” as he pulls out the chair for you to sit, still silently scanning the room, a little confused. He sits across from you and just watches you for a moment, as if trying to figure out what you were thinking before you have to put it into words.

“Um…” He clears his throat, hesitating a bit before continuing. “I… asked my friend if I could bring you here after they closed.”

Your jaw drops before you can stop it, surprise written all over your face. He notices it instantly. His gaze changes—almost alert.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he says quickly, leaning forward slightly. “I still remember how big the crowd was that day. I just wanted to make sure you felt comfortable.”

You blink in surprise. The revelation hits you like a warm wave—unexpected, but gentle.

Your gaze softens as you watch him silently, absorbing the warmth behind the gesture.

“That’s…very kind, Aaron. Thank you.”

He looks away, unsure what to make of your thanks. But you notice the way his shoulders relax. The slight twitch at the corners of his mouth—and the way he tilts his head slightly downward to try to hide it.

“I haven’t told you this yet, but I recently found out that someone on my team is a fan of yours.”

“Really?” You raise your eyebrows, genuinely curious. “How did you find out?”

“Remember that gala event you showed up at unannounced?”

You hum in response, tearing off a piece of bread the waiter had just brought to the table.

“So… Events like this usually don’t require the entire staff to be present, one representative is enough – in this case, the boss. As usual, everyone came up with some crazy excuse to leave.”

“Wait.” You hand him half of the slice. “I get that these events can be kind of… boring. But giving away free food and drinks? That’s almost a crime. Do they really try so hard not to go?”

Aaron smiles, accepting the piece of bread with a slight nod. "You have no idea. Morgan once said he couldn't come because he had an appointment to get his hair cut."

You frown, chewing slowly. "That sounds pretty plausible to me," you mutter in confusion. "How exactly does that fall into the category of lame excuses?"

Aaron raises an eyebrow, his smirk slowly widening. "Morgan is bald."

You stop mid-chew, your eyes widening—and then you burst out laughing, putting your hand in front of your lips, trying not to spit out the bread you just put in your mouth.

"You've got to be kidding," you say, still laughing, biting your lower lip—in an attempt to maintain your composure.

"I wish it was." He shakes his head with a feigned tired expression. "He even tried to explain that it was specifically 'keeping up with the finishing touches.'"

Your laughter intensifies—this time uncontrollably. You lean back slightly in your chair, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye with the tip of your finger.

“Keep up with the polish?” you repeat, panting between laughs. “That’s brilliant. Absurd, but brilliant.”

Aaron smiles, watching you with an amused glint in his eyes. “You have no idea how hard it was to keep your composure at that moment.”

“And what did you say?”

“I couldn’t answer at the time, I just stared at him trying not to laugh. It was one of those moments where you have to look away, as if you were breaking the fourth wall, it was so absurd.”

You fan yourself with your hand and take a deep breath, trying to stop laughing. “Okay, I understand the level of commitment, I can get back to the main topic.”

“Well, the other day, Penelope was waiting for me at the elevator door. As soon as I got on the floor, she bombarded me with questions.”

“What kind of questions?”

"Was it true, was she there? Did you see her up close? Is she pretty? Oh my god wait, did you talk to her? Did you get close enough to smell her perfume? If so, was it good?" He counts on his fingers as he speaks. "When I said you stayed a while after the presentation and talked to whoever came near, I thought she was going to cry."

You let out a low laugh, raising your hands in surrender. "Okay, you convinced me, now I have to meet her in person."

"Just let me know, she would sort out that office if she didn't take a sedative first."

"Imagine if she found out who took me home."

You notice how your shoulders tense at the comment, quickly correcting yourself. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, if my flowers bother you you can tell me, I won't be upset."

He seems to hesitate before lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips. “I don’t want to seem disinterested – believe me, that’s not the case. You’re so beautiful, smart and funny, it would be a sin not to notice you. I just…” He avoids your eyes, focusing on the glass of wine on the table. “I just have to be honest, I’m at least ten years older than you, I’m divorced with a child, my work takes up practically all of my time.”

You smile, the uncertainty in your voice so palpable that you want to walk around the table and hug him. “Well, if it comforts you in any way, I already knew all of this and I still chose to be here.”

“I don’t really know how to deal with this,” he admits, a little embarrassed. “I mean… I’ve been with Haley since college. That was twenty years ago.” He lets out a laugh "And I found that I could handle it all. Work, marriage, being a father. I thought the silence between us was so tired. Part of the routine. But deep down, I knew. I knew she was pulling away… And yet, I stood still. I didn't get closer, I didn't try to stop her." His eyes lower, looking at the glass in his hands. "And now, every time I think about opening up again, it feels like I'm leading you into a minefield. That at any moment, something will happen. I don't want to hurt anyone again. Especially you."

He pauses, still avoiding your eyes "That's what I have to offer you. I don't want to start something I can't sustain. You deserve more than halves."

You stay silent for a few seconds, absorbing the weight of his words, trying to find the right words to react to his sudden confession.

"Well, since we're talking about it…" you begin with a small smile. "My life is chaotic, I can't do anything outdoors without some crazy guy with a camera following me around - and that's been the case since I was twenty. I'm barely at home, when I'm not traveling on tour I'm in the studio recording, or in the warehouse rehearsing, or doing interviews and performing at festivals."

He raises his eyebrows gently, turning his gaze to you.

“I’m a huge perfectionist, and it interferes with pretty much every aspect of my life. I know I seem confident, with the flirting and all, but I went to therapy for a few years and realized that I have a tendency to sabotage my relationships. I figured out that it was because, deep down, I don’t think I’m good enough.” You pause, laughing humorlessly, absently fiddling with the napkin next to your glass.

He watches your monologue in silence.

“Oh, I can be a bitch too when I’m focused on my work and it’s not working out as it should. You have your demons, I have mine.” You rest your face on your hand. “For now, just tell me what’s good.”

He doesn’t answer right away, just keeps looking at you with a small smile. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

You were getting ready to leave when a tall man came out of the kitchen. He approached, drying his hands on a kitchen towel as his eyes went from you to Aaron, and then back to you.

“No way,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you. When recognition dawned on him, he looked directly at Aaron with an expression that was a mix of disbelief and amusement. “Man… there’s no way you pulled that off.”

Aaron looked away with a low sigh, a slight blush appearing on his face. “James…”

“Sorry, it’s just that when you asked to bring someone here after hours I thought it was a serial killer, like dinner with Hannibal. It didn’t cross my mind for a second that you’d come here with what? The third most famous person in the world, behind only Jesus Christ and Michael Jackson?”

You let out an amused laugh, partly at his audacity in comparing you to Jesus and Michael, partly at the way Aaron closed his eyes—almost as if he was praying for the ground to open up and swallow him.

The man continued, addressing you with genuine enthusiasm. “I know you probably hear this all the time, but… my wife is a huge fan. Like, a huge fan. She has all your CDs, vinyls, even a limited edition that I don’t even know how she got. She’s been to all your shows. All of them. And just last night she spent the whole night trying to buy tickets for your new tour. She almost cried because the digital queue froze. She screamed when she got it. I thought some room in the house had caught on fire.” James continued, now pulling a pen out of his pocket with an almost shy expression. “So… if it’s not too much to ask, could you sign something? Anything. A napkin, my arm, the restaurant bill—she’ll frame it anyway.”

You smiled, grabbing the nearest napkin with the restaurant’s gold logo on it. "Sure. What's her name?"

"Helena, with an H." He stares at Aaron for a few seconds before turning to you. "Look, with all due respect, I don't know what's more impressive… You managing to drag Hotchner out of that office or the fact that Mr. "nobody-knows-about-my-life" is meeting a pop culture icon. It's like watching a shooting star leave with a comet. If I tell anyone about this, they'll think I hit my head."

Aaron blushed slightly, his stoic expression crumbling for a moment. "I'm starting to think that being chased and possibly trampled isn't such a bad option."

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as you wrote carefully.

“Dear Helena Knowing that you appreciate my art enough to be with me for these fourteen years leaves me speechless. It is an immense honor to know that my music has touched your life in some way. Now, between you and me: how lucky you are, my friend. The food here is some of the best I have ever tasted in my life — I hope it tastes as good to you as it does to the spices. I can’t wait to see you at my show. With love, Miss Honey”

James held the piece of paper like it was a sacred artifact. “Thank you. She’s going to make an altar, probably put candles around it.” You smiled as he walked away, protecting the napkin with the palm of your hand as if it were made of thin glass.

Aaron opened the door for you, and as you left, he muttered under his breath, “I’m sorry about him. Apparently, there’s no hiding from all the fans.”

You smiled, glancing at him sideways. “It’s okay, and honestly, he was adorable.”

On the way back, he seemed quieter than usual. You could feel his gaze, disguised by quick sideways glances, as if he was studying you.

“You’re staring,” you tease.

The corners of his mouth lifted in a tight smile. “I’m trying to figure out how someone like you would be interested in someone like me.”

You frowned, tilting your head slightly. “I thought we talked about this already.”

“We talked,” he nodded slowly. “But sometimes, even when someone says the right words… it’s hard to believe them. You’re the kind of person you double-check to make sure they’re real.”

You laughed awkwardly, looking away to the window, trying to hide the blush that was rising in your cheeks. “Okay, stop it, you’re embarrassing me.”

He tilted his head, his eyes shining with amusement. “What? Did I manage to embarrass you? Should I go back and order some champagne to celebrate?”

“I could double your teasing, but I’ll spare you, as an act of kindness.”

“Oh really?” He parked in front of your house, turning slightly to look at you, a cocky smile playing on his lips. “And how would you do that?”

You didn’t answer, instead, you took off your belt and leaned towards him, pressing your lips against his. He stood still for a second, stunned by your boldness, but soon he kissed you back, his lips moving against yours with the same intensity.

When you pulled away, still a few inches away from him, both of you were breathing quickly, his eyes fixed on yours, trying to process what had just happened.

“Goodnight, Aaron.” You said softly with a smile, before opening the car door and getting out.

He stood there, motionless, his eyes still fixed on you as you walked away. The scent of your perfume was still in every corner of the car.

He had just crossed the line.

And he didn’t regret it at all.

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English is not my first language are sorry for any mistake

If you have any ideas to contribute to the sequel I will be happy to receive them :)

tag: @duchesz @midnghtprentiss @jazzimac1967 @queenofnothng @leathynn @camihotchner @yourallaround-simp @pastelpinkflowerlife @padlockedheartsreading @tomhiddlestonforever-blog @michasia24 @sweetpianoxoxo

[swizzlemynizzle]

Hello! I loved your george series so much!

Could I request a fluffy willne fic? Maybe a friend's to lovers or maybe an influencer trip and there's only one bed, that sort of thing, just really cute/cringe type of sweet 🫠🤗

Thankyou!!

-🦆

I kind of got sidetracked writing this and I’m not entirely sure it matches the request 😂 I hope you like it anyway!

Masterlist

One Bed, Two Idiots - Willne

The birds are chirping like they’ve got a vendetta. Some manic little dawn chorus ensemble that’s definitely out to ruin Y/N’s morning on purpose.

“You’ve got to be actually fucking kidding me!” she snaps, flinging another hoodie across the room like it personally offended her.

“Woah, babe, just breathe,” Sabina soothes on speaker, voice all honey and calm from the other end of the line. “It’s got to be somewhere.”

“Not helpful right now, Sab!” Y/N practically growls, yanking open a drawer she already checked twice.

The suitcase hits the floor with a dramatic thud as she empties it entirely, folded clothes unraveling like they’re mocking her too.

“I’m going to miss the flight,” she whispers, voice wobbling as tears start to burn behind her eyes.

Sabina pauses. “Okay, okay, keep looking—I’m calling Will. He’s on the later flight anyway, yeah? If worst comes to worst, you go with him.”

Y/N doesn't even respond before the line goes dead. She drops to her knees, the carpet beneath her soft and unhelpful, and presses her palms to her face. Her passport. Gone. Just... vanished. She’d had it two days ago, she swears. She’d even triple-checked, proud of herself for being prepared for once in her chaotic little life.

A shuffle down the hallway pulls her from the spiral.

“Heyo?” Will’s voice floats in, cheerful and warm and entirely too sunny for someone who's just turned into a human hurricane.

He steps into her doorway, backpack slung over one shoulder and hair still wet from the shower, that usual mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’m here to save the day.”

“You’re disgustingly chipper,” she mutters, glaring at him from the floor. “I’ve been up since five losing my entire identity.”

He snorts. “Alright, dramatic. It’s just your passport.”

She lifts her tear-bright eyes to him, exasperated. “I literally can’t get on a plane without it, Will.”

That softens him. His face shifts, the joking drops just a bit. “Hey. It’s okay. We’ve still got time. Let me help, yeah?”

And he does. For over an hour, the two of them tear apart every inch of her flat, hunting through shoes and makeup bags and even the fridge (because, as Will says, “You once put your phone in the microwave, nothing’s off the table.”).

Finally, finally—

“Aha!” she yells, emerging from the bathroom like a victorious knight brandishing a tiny burgundy book. “It was in the bloody sink drawer!”

She laughs, the sound light and ridiculous, and Will can’t help laughing too—even if he’s mostly laughing at how her hair’s all over the place and how proud she looks for defeating herself.

“Genuinely can’t decide if I’m impressed or deeply concerned,” he teases, eyes dancing.

“I contain multitudes,” she declares, smug.

In the Uber, she’s bouncing with adrenaline, singing along to the driver’s bizarre 80s Eurodance playlist and doing awkward shoulder shimmies in her seat. Will steals glances at her in the rearview mirror, pretending he’s not completely gone. She’s radiant in the way that only someone who’s just survived a mini breakdown and come out victorious can be. And when she catches him staring, she doesn’t call him out—just smiles, that slow, soft smile she only does when they’re alone.

At the airport, they’re halfway through weaving toward the gate when a crowd of school kids cuts in front of them—an ocean of red jumpers and backpacks the size of small houses. Without even thinking, Will reaches back and grabs her hand, threading their fingers together as he tugs her along behind him.

She freezes for half a second, just long enough to feel his hand, warm and solid and slightly calloused, close around hers.

“Come on,” he says over his shoulder, like he hasn’t just short-circuited her brain.

She follows. She doesn’t let go.

On the plane, he tucks her carry-on above her seat and flops down beside her with a self-satisfied grin.

“So,” he says, stretching his legs out. “Be honest. You were hiding your passport in your bathroom drawer on purpose, weren’t you? Trying to get some alone time with me?”

Y/N scoffs, elbowing him in the side. “Yes, Will. I masterminded an entire emotional meltdown for your company. You got me.”

“Not the worst plan,” he hums, cocky. “I am great on long-haul flights.”

She’s about to fire back something sarcastic when the plane jolts violently, lurching in a way that shuts everyone up at once. Her hand flies to his thigh without thinking, nails digging in slightly.

He grabs her hand. Steady. Warm. A quiet, “You’re alright. Got you,” whispered just for her.

And she believes him.

——————

The emergency landing is announced just an hour into the flight. They land somewhere outside Istanbul just after midnight—an unplanned layover thanks to a mechanical fault that the pilot described as “a precautionary measure” and Will described as “absolutely bloody terrifying” once they were off the plane.

The airline herds the stranded passengers into a nearby hotel. It's got that faded glamour look—dim chandeliers, gold accents that probably haven’t been real gold in decades, and staff that clearly did not expect 200 grumpy tourists tonight. Still, the sheets look clean, and there’s only one room left.

Which, of course, has only one bed.

Y/N stares at the receptionist. “You’re joking.”

The woman gives her a tired smile and a very European shrug. “All other rooms are full. You are lucky to have this one.”

“Lucky,” she mutters, dragging her suitcase toward the lift.

Will, beside her, is too smug. “You did say earlier you masterminded this whole thing just to get alone time with me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. If I was masterminding anything, it’d involve cocktails on a beach and not sharing a pillow with your massive head.”

“I have an average-sized head, actually.”

“The hat you wore last week disagrees.”

The room itself is nice enough—low lighting, a soft duvet, and a balcony with a view of distant city lights flickering through the mist. But the bed is a double. One bed. A single, intimacy-demanding slab of mattress.

Y/N kicks off her shoes and groans, flopping face-first onto it. “I give up. Istanbul wins.”

Will chuckles, heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he returns, she’s lying sideways across the bed, one arm flung dramatically off the side like a Victorian widow.

He grabs the duvet corner and lifts it just enough to slide in next to her. “You alright, melodrama?”

She rolls her head to face him. “I just wanted to be sipping something tropical with one of those little umbrellas in it.”

“You can have a tap water with a toothpick in it. That’s the same thing, right?”

She snorts. “God, I hate how funny you think you are.”

“No, you hate how funny you think I am.”

A beat.

She laughs, quietly. “Okay. Maybe.”

The silence stretches, but it’s a nice one. Their legs brush beneath the covers, bare knees just touching. Neither of them moves away.

“Thanks again,” she murmurs. “For earlier. And, like… all of this.”

He tilts his head to look at her. “I didn’t mind.”

“No?”

He shakes his head. “You’re easy to be around. Even when you’re throwing jumpers and crying about birds.”

She gives a sleepy chuckle. “The birds were being dicks.”

“I’m on your side, don’t worry.”

Their eyes meet, and there’s a second—barely anything—where the air shifts. Where it feels like something is very, very close to happening.

Will reaches up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers linger just a moment too long.

“Your hair’s gone all fluffy,” he murmurs, soft and affectionate.

Y/N swallows. “Your fault for running your fingers through it earlier.”

“Could run them through again. For quality control.”

She laughs, cheeks going warm, but she doesn’t look away.

It’s quiet. The kind of quiet that hums with things unspoken.

Eventually, she shifts slightly closer, their faces a breath apart now. “If I kick you in my sleep, it’s nothing personal.”

“I’ll take it as a love tap.”

She grins, small and sleepy. “Shut up, Will.”

“Night, trouble.”

“Night.”

When the sun rises over Istanbul the next morning, it does so on two idiots halfway to the Maldives and even closer to something else entirely.

——————

Requests are open xx

[sanaexus]

"but when he loves me, i feel like i'm floating" - karasu tabito

snyposis- hc of karasu as he goes from "just a friend" to the love of your life who is literally THE SWEETEST!!

based on this req!

pre-relationship!lkarasu is your ride or die friend. he's always been there and you know he always will be. he's lit your biggest hype/wingman ever. he never crossed any boundaries and made sure you were comfortable always!

but pre-relationship!karasu is just a boy at heart and yearns for your love, he frankly didn't even notice he was in love w you (surprising for someone who is perceptive). he just wanted to be around you all the time

pre-relationship!karasu who starts reading into the small things, your lingering glances, how you smile just a little bit more with him, how you somehow always happen to be accidently bumping into him. that got his gears kicking, was there a chance you liked him too?

pre-relationship!karasu who gains the courage to just fuck it and ask you out because yolo. (i love using yolo unironically)

pre-relationship!karasu who plans how to ask you out to the smallest of the details. he takes you to this star gazing spot and while you look up admiring the stars he just says it out loud, a simple "i love you" and to his suprise you just kissed him in reply. while pulling away you whispered a "took you long enough" and you both lost it giggling together like maniacs

boyfriend!karasu who watches tutorials on "how to be a good boyfriend" and "how to make sure your gf feels loved" but he doesn't need to worry about any of that because he's more than enough!

boyfriend!karasu who's always there, whether it's to gossip, get shitfaced or just sit there while you crash out.

boyfriend!karasu who always needs to be touching you, hand around your shoulder or waist, holding your hand or intertwining your fingers.

boyfriend!karasu who knows you down to the T. how you do your makeup, which side of the bed you get up from, how you like your coffee. everything you didn't even know about yourself, he knows, he just knows. and when you ask him about it he just says "boyfriends always know".

i know i've said this before but boyfriend!karasu is either the funniest person you know or with the driest humor ever known to man kind and he still makes you laugh regardless because of his delivery! sometimes you're laughing at him instead with him but he doesn't need to know that.

boyfriend!karasu trusts you ALOTTT but he doesn't trust the people around you, he's not jealous it's more being protective so you don't get uncomfortable. but that doesn't mean he doesn't get jealous at all, oh no he does but he hides it well and doesn't really act upon it that much.

when boyfriend!karasu finds out you've been wanting to go to disney land for a while he immediately started plannin the trip. he wouldn't admit it but he was excited, very excited actually.

boyfriend!karasu who made you try out every damn ride because he could, he wasn't really scared or anything nor were the rides that entertaining (he was lying to himself saying this) but seeing the joy on your face made it worth it.

boyfriend!karasu as soon as the fireworks went of, you turned towards the sky while he turned to admire you, who was awe struck by the pretty colors in the nightsky. when you turned to him with a bright smile, he felt as if some part of his inner child was healed.

yeah he really did love you and he loved being with you no matter where it was.

HAII GUYSSSS IT WAS SO FUN WRITING THIS IT TOOK ME A LITTTTLEEE TOO LONG BECAUSE IT JUST DIDN'T FEEL RIGHT BUT I HOPE THIS WAS TO YOUR LIKING @x3nafix

[airybcby]

I don't know if requests for non event things are open or not but take this as more of an idea😭😭 don't feel complied to write it if you don't want to or can't atm. I reaaaally love ur fics so far and I discovered you through the spotify wrapped event thing. Hope ur asks aren't too flooded from the event tho, it seems like a lot😅 it's rlly impressive you can write so much in like a day. I would get burnt out 😭

Anywho, I just saw a tiktok video (https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6r5pYuM/) and thought it would be a really cute (and really embarrassing) fanfic idea. I was hoping u could maybe write headcanons or a full on fanfic about the scenario with blue lock characters. Specifically rin, but anyone will be fine if you wanna do multiple characters😋 you can change the "guy friend" bit in the video to bf if u want idrm

Sorry if it was too long😭😭

hi hi!! my asks are open for anything and everything rn (including my event that i’m running rn) tysm!! i just have some days where writing is easier than others, and i can’t stop the word vomit and ideas tbh🙏

AND HELLO THIS IS SO SILLY AND CUTIE IM OBSESSED

so sorry this has taken so long to get to, my inbox was FLOODED and i'm slowly trying to get through them all!

જ⁀♡⊹｡° if your first kiss goes well...

( rin itoshi x gn! reader )

♡ a/n — airy get through your inbox challenge START! I made it to where rin is your bf and it's kind of new instead of just being a friend :)

♡ word count — 430

♡ content — rin itoshi x gn! reader, established relationship (it's new), written at like midnight so it's prob bad, reader and rin are inexperienced, puppy dog love, maybe ooc rin?, not proofread

♡ synopsis — Rin Itoshi wasn't someone who crumbled. ever. So when you go to his house and hear him watching a video on how to have your first kiss? It's just a little entertaining.

── .✦ act natural, don't press too hard

It was still new, this thing with Rin.

New enough that your heart fluttered every time his hand brushed yours. New enough that when he offered you his bed with a quiet “You can sit,” it felt like more than just politeness.

His room was neat. Lived-in, but still precise—like him. He disappeared into the bathroom after a murmured “Be right back,” taking his phone with him, and you were left to take it all in.

You were just settling in, fingers playing with the hem of his hoodie you’d stolen earlier, when his speaker—still connected to his phone—came to life.

"Hi! Nervous about your first kiss? Don’t worry, we’ve got you covered—"

Your eyebrows shot up.

"First, make sure you’re both comfortable. Confidence is key, but don’t worry if you’re nervous—"

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. No way.

The audio cut off a second later. Maybe he paused the video. Maybe he’d noticed the speaker was connected. Either way, you were still smiling when he came back out.

He looked calm. Composed. Like he always did.

But you could feel something different under the surface—something uncertain, maybe even shy—as he stood in front of you, hands shoved in his pockets.

You stood, meeting him halfway. “Hey,” you said softly.

“Hey,” he murmured, eyes flicking to yours.

There was a beat of silence, and then: “Do you… wanna kiss me?”

He didn’t say anything at first. Just blinked. Then gave the smallest nod.

Your heart jumped.

You stepped closer, slowly, carefully. His hands twitched at his sides, but he didn’t pull away when you leaned in, tilting your head just a little.

When your lips met, it was soft. Hesitant. A little uncoordinated, but so full of intent you thought your chest might burst. He kissed you back like he meant it—like he’d been waiting for it.

When you pulled away, his eyes were still half-lidded, dazed.

You smiled, heart racing. “Better than the video?”

“…What?”

You giggled, lifting your hand to point toward the speaker sitting innocently on his nightstand. “That. It was playing your video.”

Rin froze.

Then slowly—painfully—turned to look at the speaker like it had personally betrayed him. His ears flushed pink. “I’m sorry…” he muttered, voice tight, almost ashamed.

You couldn’t help it—you cupped his cheeks in your hands, thumbs brushing over warm skin. “I think it was cute.”

He blinked down at you, and you watched his gaze flicker—first to your eyes, then down to your lips.

You smiled.

“...Another one?”

He didn’t say anything.

Just nodded.

And kissed you again.

this is so cutie i cannot

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

❀ tags: ❀ @kenyuukissme ❀ @irethepotato ❀ @kiyy0mei ❀ @x3nafix ❀ @sugacor3 ❀ @ohagiyo ❀ @reigensuperstar ❀ @nevvynevnev ❀ join the taglist here !

⋆.˚✮ 2025 ©airybcby ✮˚.⋆

[vanillefawnn]

Leather & Lace 𖹭.ᐟ

Dean winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: suggestive content, Sam being the poor third wheel and getting stuck between you Dean's freakness, language

Summary: You like to leave Dean little trinkets when he goes on hunts, just little things to help keep you in his head when he's out on the road.

Authors note: I'm gonna tackle this man and get him PREGNANT !! (I also did NAWT proof read this sooo ye)

Dean wasn't a sentimental guy—not really. Not in the way people wrote sonnets about or cried over in movies. But there was something about you that rewired the whole system, made him soft in places he'd spent his whole life keeping armored.

It started with a polaroid.

The two of you at a diner somewhere in Missouri, your face squished against his shoulder, both of you grinning like idiots. He found it one morning tucked into the crease of Baby's dashboard, right between the speedometer and the gas gauge.

"Figured you'd miss my face," your neat hand writing read on the back.

He chuckled, thumb brushing over the image as he slid it into the glovebox. He would miss your face, hell, he already did.

From then on, it became a thing.

Every time Dean left for a hunt—wether it be with Sam or solo—there was always something left behind. A sticky note on the steering wheel that said "Drive safe, handsome. I'll be thinking about you." Sometimes, a folded square of paper that smelled just like you, perfume soaked into the fibers until it clung to the leather seats like memory.

Dean had never told you how much it meant. He didn't have to.

But then—somewhere along the line—it stopped being just sweet.

One week, he found a photograph.

And not the diner kind, either.

It was tasteful, if not exactly safe-for-work—your body clad in soft, black lacy lingerie, all curves and skin and confidence. Dean found it when he was rummaging for a cassette tape. Sam was two feet away, completely unaware.

Dean coughed—choked, really—and shoved it into his jacket pocket like it was a contraband. His ears were pink the entire drive to Minnesota.

The next time, it was a lipstick kiss on the rearview mirror. A perfectly formed pout of crimson that made his gut twist in all the right ways. He sat there for a moment, hand resting against the glass like he could somehow hold it.

Sam noticed that one.

"Oh my god," he'd muttered "Can you two not?"

Dean just smirked and peeled out of the parking lot.

But nothing—not one thing—compared to what he found this time.

He was loading up the impala, tossing a duffle into the trunk, shotgun shells rattling in his pocket. Sam was still inside. Grabbing coffee, grumbling something to himself about early mornings and the lore of the case they were working on.

Dean slide into the driver's seat, ready to start the engine—and froze.

There they were.

Hanging from the rearview mirror like the worlds most scandalous charm.

Baby blue lace panties.

Your panties.

He blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Nope. Still there.

Delicate, floral patterns, tiny enough to fit in the palm of his hand. His name was stitched in tiny cursive into the inner waistband—Dean, in pale silver thread. His jaw clenched.

The fuck were you trying to do to him?

He practically snatched them off the mirror, glancing around like some cop was gonna pull up and arrest him for public indecency. His fingers brushed the lace. Soft. Still warm from wherever you'd hidden them. Maybe even your skin. His brain was officially out of commission.

You'd attached a note to them, of course.

"Thought you might like to keep a little peice of me with you."

Dean was gonna die.

Actually, no—Sam was gonna die. Because the second he saw these? it was over.

Dean shoved them into the glovebox like they were ticking explosives, slamming it shut just as Sam rounded the corner with two cups.

"Something wrong?" Sam asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

Dean cleared his throat. "Nope."

"Your face is red."

"It's hot."

"It's forty degrees."

Dean started the car. "Shut up."

Sam blinked. "Why does it smell like her perfume in here again?"

Dean said nothing.

Sam groaned, leaning back in his seat, already regretting this entire trip. "You two are disgusting."

Dean just smirked, hand resting on the wheel.

But later, that night, when they checked into a ratty motel, Dean opened the glovebox again—just to see them. To touch the lace. Hold them against his chest, breathe you in.

And that night, when he slipped between the sheets. He tucked the panties beneath his pillow and fell asleep to the ghost of your perfume and the sound of your voice in his head.

Yeah.

Maybe he was sentimental, after all.

[ghostlylittlemoths]

Rotten girl

Loser!perv!ellie x private school!loser!reader

Summary: you and ellie had lived next to each other most of your childhood. And now the two of you are in college. You two were never close even though the both of you wanted to be and now there is a party. Will you two finally get the courage to talk to each other after years of yearning? Will you become friends... or maybe more?

Wc: 5k exactly! Content: strangers(?) to lovers, fluff, lesbians yearning, slight angst if you squint, use of y/n once (im sorry) kissing, smut: switch!ellie, switch!reader kissing, strap,( r!receiving), oral(e!receiving) tribbing, cum eating, squirting(r!and e!), getting caught(by dina), multiple orgasms(e!)

Title has nothing to do with the story. The pic dosnt represent you i just used for the uniform

She thinks you dont notice her staring from across the courtyard. How her eyes linger on your body. More specifically your legs and chest. She thinks you don't notice when the wind blows the pages in her sketchbook and reveals the drawing she has of you in different outfits ranging from full cover outfits to skimpy lingerie in all colors and nude drawings. Her favorites were black and red, as you could tell from how many drawings in those colors there were. She was obsessed. And a loser to the highest degree.

You and Ellie had been neighbors ever since she moved to your town 7 years ago but you two didn't go to the same school. You went to the private school across the street from the public school Ellie went to. They were both nice schools, two of the best schools in the whole west coast.

You and Ellie never really talked besides when she first moved in with what you assume to be her dad and older sister. Her father, Joel, was a kind man. Him and your dad hit it off right away and so did her sister Sarah and your siblings. But Ellie didn't talk to you. She just stood looking uncomfortable in a corner writing in a book, most likely drawing.

You and her went to the same middle school but you still did not talk unless you were paired for a project but even then it was the bare minimum of talking. Now you two were in college and both of you wanted to stay close to home. You were accepted into a private college while Ellie went to a public college to stay close with her friends Jesse and Dina. Dina and Ellie dated a bit in highschool but soon realized they would be better as just friends. 

Ellie has changed a lot since you last saw her. Yeah you two went to colleges that were right across the street from each other but she tended to stay in the dorm while you went to your apartment off campus.

Tonight there was a party and both colleges were invited. You knew Ellie was going to be there, even though she seems like a loser who doesn't do anything, she does like to go to parties once in a while. And your friend convinced you to go as well. Or well she's trying.

“Come on it might be fun and you might meet someone” your friend Shane said while sitting on your bed staring at you as you were trying to figure out what to wear. You met Shane when you were shopping and you accidentally rammed your cart into hers.  She kept trying to set you up on dates with different women but none of them were who you were looking for. You knew who you were looking for. 

Her

Ellie

Maybe tonight you could get the balls and actually talk to her after all these years. But you doubt it, maybe she has a girlfriend now. There might be no use in talking to her, but it doesn't hurt to try.  You hope not at least. Maybe it goes well and you become friends or maybe more-.

“Hey did you hear me or are you fantasizing about your dream girl?” Shane said as she grabbed your hips and pulled you close to her. You knew she was teasing and trying to get you to talk. And it works. 

“How did you know? Are you a mind reader?��� you asked Shane sarcastically as you pulled away from her to finish getting ready. 

“Yep and let me guess her name… Ellie” you froze. How the fuck did she know? You turned to face her only to freeze again. She had your diary. The same diary that was filled with the feelings you had for ellie. Sketches you made of ellie. Your initials in hearts on every page corner. 

“You are such a loser man. It's kinda sad. Just talk to her. You never know what might happen. The two of you could hit it off  right away and start fucking and or dating”  that's easier said than done. How would you even approach her let alone talk to her? You've known her for years and you've never talked. The two of you have been physically so close but you haven't talked to her. And you could assure her that you and ellie wouldnt fuck that night.

“Well why haven't I thought of that yet? I've alway wanted to talk to her. And I've tried. But she's never tried to talk to me. And even if she did she would just look at me then walk away. I've-” she cut you off by putting her hand on your shoulder and putting a black spaghetti strap tank top over your head and around your neck. 

“I was kidding, calm down. No need to get your panties in a  bunch. This top will go good with that black skirt” you were rambling. You pulled the top over your chest and tucked the hem into the top of your black knee high skirt. Shame laced a silver belt around your waist and turned you around. 

“ You look nice now let's get going so you're not late” Shane said as she threw a pair of sneakers at you and pulled you downstairs and into her car. 

It wasn't long until you and Shane arrived at the party. “Are you not going to come in? I know you like parties?” you asked as you got out of the car. “Nah I'm gonna head home, i have work in the morning but if you need a ride home i can pick you up, just call. Oh and you owe me 50 bucks if yall fuck” shane said then drove off. You rolled your eyes and walked into the house and went straight for the kitchen. You grabbed a red solo cup and filled it with some soda seeing as how you didn't want to get drunk tonight. You had a gut feeling that something was going to happen and that you needed to be sober for it. There were people dancing, drinking,smoking and making out everywhere. 

You decided that you didn't want to stand anymore and looked for a place to sit. As you were scanning the place your eyes locked on something. More like someone. 

Ellie

She was really here. Shanes words replayed in your mind. You needed to talk to her. Maybe you did need a drink. No, just trust your gut. You finally found a place to sit and pulled out your phone. You took a picture and added it to your instagram story captioned “at a boring party lol” holy fuck you sound like a total loser. You clicked off your story but  not even a minute later you got a notification that someone liked your story. You checked to see who it was. No fucking way. It was ellie. You had no clue she followed you. You quickly followed her back and looked up from your phone to see if you could see ellie. To your horror Ellie was staring at you from the stairs.

Ellie looked away and walked to the kitchen with Dina and Jesse in tow. You tried to shake off the feeling Ellie gave you when she looked at you. She made your heart race. Ellie seems even prettier today not that she doesn't look pretty everyday she cut her hair. You were all caught up in your thoughts when you felt the spot on the couch and an arm got thrown over your shoulder.

“So youre Y/n. she was right you are pretty” it was dina. You were so caught in your thoughts that you didn't notice that Dina left Ellie and Jesse in the kitchen and walked over to you. You never talked to Dina or Jesse. You were surprised she knew who you were.

“You are all over ellies sketch book- hiccup- and she loves to stare at you during lunch and anytime you are outside at the same time” this caught you by surprise, you thought you were the only one to do that and come to find out she does the same thing. It wasn't as creepy as you thought it was.

You were about to not pay attention to what she was saying because she was drunk but she said something that made you listen. 

“She wants to talk to you. She's in the last bedroom on the left "Dina whispered in your ear before getting up and walking over to Jesse who was in the kitchen talking to friends.you knew dina wasn't someone who would lie to you for shits and giggles.  You quickly stood up from the couch but you didn't want to seem too eager and you walked over to the stairs and walked upstairs.

You hoped Dina wasn't lying. You reached the door at the end of the hallway and slowly opened the door and peeked in. you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in when you saw Ellie laying on the end of the bed on her phone. She looked up at the door and saw you. She quickly sat up on the bed and turned off her phone. 

“Hey, dina said you wanted to talk to me” your voice was low and quiet. You sound like a fucking dumbass. 

“Uh yeah i did, i didn't think dina would actually tell you” she laughed nervously. ‘Holy shit, she's perfect’ you thought to yourself. You slowly walked in and sat on the bed with your hands folded in your lap. You didn't want to get too close to Ellie because you didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

“I'm just gonna get right to the point. I don't want to tiptoe around this. I've had a crush on you from the moment I met you when Joel and Sarah came over to your house when we first moved in.’ Well that clears the whole girlfriend thought. “I'm sorry I never talked to you, I was just really nervous because I thought you were gonna think I was a weird freak. Then it got even worse when we started going to college. Now that you went to a private school with a cute uniform I thought you were gonna think you were too good for me” she was rambling like it was going to be the end of the world if she didn't tell you now. Though you didn't stop her, you always hated that in movies, when someone would confess and then be cut off right in the middle. So you let her continue.

“I've watched you for years, I know it sounds creepy and now saying out loud makes me sound like a total stalker creep but I couldn't get the courage to talk to you so I had to tell you to meet me up here.” She finally stopped talking the whole time she talked. She didn't look at you, probably fearing that you would laugh at her if she did.

God she was cute.

“Well… I'm sorry you felt that way. I never wanted you to feel that way. Honestly I felt the same way too though I did think you hated me and that's why you never talked to me. I did notice you staring at me during lunch but I just thought you were trying to find a way to make fun of me. And dina told me about your sketchbook but i can't say i haven't seen bits of what was in it” you laughed trying to lighten the mood. Ellie looked mortified when you mentioned the sketchbook. 

The two of you seemed to talk for hours occasionally interrupted by knocks on the door from drunks most likely looking for a place to fuck. The two of you shifted from sitting on the bed to laying down on it. Ellie was talking about a new game she was getting into and you were just listening when you felt something grab your hand. You looked done to see it was Ellie and that she had stopped talking and was staring at you. 

“You seem to have a staring problem” Ellie only smiled and leaned into you. Her lips meeting yours and them quickly pulling away and shot up on the bed. 

“Oh my god i am so sorry i didn't mean to. Well I mean I did but I didn-” you cut Ellie off with another kiss. Well now you sound like a hypocrite. She kissed you back and rested her hand on the back of your neck. She slowly pushed you down on the and straddled your hips, hovering over you. Without thinking her lips traveled to your neck and left hickies in her wake. Her hand pulled the hem of your top out of your skirt and she snaked her hand up and under your bra to grope and squeeze your breast. You let out a soft moan that was swallowed by ellies kisses.  

“You like that, yeah? God, I've been waiting to hear what you sounded like for years. You sound just how I imagined "Ellie sighed through kisses that she planted down your neck and over your collarbones.  Oh Shane was going to have a field day when she sees you tomorrow after work.

You didn't answer, you only made a quiet mewl sound and gripped ellies thighs. The feeling alone made her let out a quiet groan and she grinded her hips over your pelvic bone. You swore you died and came back from the sound.

“Can I take this off? Please can I take off your top?” Ellie almost whined. You nodded your head and let Ellie take off your top. But she got too impatient with her own slowness that she grabbed the shirt by the collar and ripped it down the middle. She immediately latched onto the skin of your breast. 

“Ellie i liked that top” you whined from the feeling of ellie's mouth on your tit.

“I'll buy you a new one baby i promise” she said while not really being focused on what you said.

You mustered all the strength you could and flipped Ellie on her back and this time you straddled her waist. You met Ellie halfway into a passionate kiss. You felt ellies hands move up your back and rumble with the clasp of your bra. She struggled for a bit then gave up. the two of you giggled in the kiss and you leaned away to take off the bra yourself.

“I only wear sports bras” Ellie said and she trailed her hands up your waist. When your bra came off you thought Ellie's eyes were going to fall out of her head. The moment your bra came off your nipples hardened at the cold air of the room but was soon overtaken by the warmth of Ellie's mouth and hands. You moaned at the feelingnand gripped the hair at the back of her head. 

Ellie soon switched sides making sure both got attention. Ellie pulled away and looked up at you, her glasses fogging up. You reached down and grabbed the end of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Ellie wasn't wearing a bra. 

“I didn't think I was gonna get any action,” Ellie said with a  small smile. You only laughed and kissed her again but with more force. Ellies tattooed hand went under your skirt and gripped your ass causing you to slightly open your mouth which gave Ellie the chance to slip her tongue in. The kiss was even better than you thought it was going to be. 

You lightly pushed Ellie to lay down on the bed and she watched as you trailed kisses down her neck, chest, tummy and down to the waistband of her pants. You ran your fingers over her happy trail and looked up at her, almost begging for her to let you take off her pants. 

Ellie looked at you and gave you a silent nod. God how she wanted to tattoo the image of you unbuttoning her pants to her eye lips so she could see it everytime she closed her eyes. She was definitely going to draw it in the morning. You tapped ellies hip to signal her to lift her hips so you could get her pants off. Once her pants were off you could see the dark patch from how wet she was.

“Look at you… is this all for me” you asked as you gave a kiss to the wet spot. She whined when she felt your lips connect with her clothed and needy clit and nodded her head. You slowly pulled down her boxers  to tease her but got impatient with your own actions. You quickly pulled her boxers to her ankles and she flipped them off with her foot.

 You grabbed her leg and rested it over your shoulder and brought your head down to kiss her puffy clit. You felt Ellie twitch and you grabbed her hip with your other hand and rubbed soothing circles with your thumb. The calm didn't last long as you licked a long strip from her weeping hole to her clit. You suckled on her clit and her quiet moans got louder. You were sure no one was going to hear her over the sound of the blaring music downstairs. 

You felt Ellie buck her hips into your mouth as you sucked on her clit. Pulled away with a sting of your spit and ellies slick still connecting you to her. She whined at the loss of contact and tried to bring you back down to her aching cunt. You grabbed her hand and held it in your own and went back down on her. You dropped your tongue into her clenching hole and you could tell she was getting close. 

“Are you gonna cum? Please cum for me baby” you said as you sped up your movements. You were sure she was screaming now but you didn't care. “Holy fuck im gonna cum im gonna cum please, please” You felt Ellie shake against your mouth and you felt as Ellie came into your mouth. Her hands came down to your hair to hold you so she could grind on your mouth.

You pulled away and crawled up to ellies mouth and kissed her. She could taste herself on your tongue. You pulled away again and reached down to pull off your skirt and pantie. Ellie wasn't paying attention, she was trying to catch her breath only to but taken from her when she felt your equally wet cunt on hers

You grabbed her calf and rested it on your shoulder and grinded her cunt against yours. The feeling of her clit bumping against yours was too good to explain. “Oh fuck yes ellie”  You kissed up and down ellies calf and she gripped your hip and thigh and bucked her cunt up to yours. Her moans were getting loud again and you could tell she was close and so were you. 

You and Ellie sped up your movements and before you knew it you were cumming and hard. The sight of you with your head thrown back caused Ellie to cum but it was different than before. You felt as a warm liquid splashed against your cunt and you looked down to see what had happened.

Ellie had squirted all over your cunt. You looked up at her and saw that she had gone beet red and covered her face. You let go of her leg and leaned down and kissed the back of her hands and pulled them from her face . “don't be embarrassed els its okay “ you were about to kiss her again when the door slammed open. 

“Hey els me and jesse are gonna head hO- OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY” dina slurred then screamed. You turned around quickly to see Dina and pulled the tucked end of the blanket out and flung yourself and the blanket over Ellie to cover both of you. Ellie screamed at Dina to get out and Dina grabbed the door handle while covering her eyes and slammed the door shut. You and Ellie sat in silence for a minute before Ellie laughed. 

“Holy shit no way dina caught us fucking” said said as she wiped away a tear and kissed your jaw. You sat up from Ellie and smiled at her. You got off the bed and started looking for your clothes. You found your skirt and panties. You looked for ellies clothes and handed them to her. You looked up to Ellie only to see her looking like a kicked puppy.

“What's wrong els?” you said as you softly grabbed her face and rubbed her cheeks with your thumbs. “Are you leaving me right after we fucked?” she asked with so much hurt in her voice it almost broke your heart. Did she really think you would do that? 

“Oh no ellie i would never do that, i just assumed you would want to leave the party and go home.” you said as you gave elie a kiss and cleaned her up. She responded with a quiet ‘oh’ and got dressed as you were looking for the rest of your clothes. Or what's left of them. Ellie soon realized and remembered that she had ripped your top off and she got beet red again and threw her hoodie at you. 

The two of you finished getting dressed and walked downstairs and outside. “Um, can I get your number and do you wanna come over for the night? It will save me from the back and forth "Ellie asked as she held your hand and lightly swung it back and forth. “I would love to els” you kissed her cheek and she led you to her car and grabbed the keys out of the hoodie she let you wear. 

You two arrived at her apartment and walked inside and took the elevator up to her place. Ellie brought you to her room and you sat in her bed while she left the room to go get some snacks. You texted Shane that you didn't need a ride home. You took a minute to really take in Ellie's room. You looked at her savage starlight posters and comics and her little dino toys and a book that was sitting on her desk. 

‘Is that the sketchbook dina was talking about?’ you walked over and sat in Ellie's chair. You know this was wrong. You didn't want to break Ellie's trust in you. But you really wanted to see what other drawings of you she had. You slowly opened the sketchbook as if it was made of glass and could shatter at any moment. Pages upon pages were filled with nothing but sketches of you in different outfits, or no outfits. Sketches of what could be of you and ellie. And birds, birds of all kinds. 

She was amazing. You were so enthralled in the book that you did hear ellies door open and her walk in. “what are you doing?” she asked with pure horror in her voice. You quickly turned to face her. It was like all the color drained from her face. “You're an amazing artist ellie. You portray me in a way I didn't think anyone could. It's beautiful.” you said in hopes of calming her down and not making her mad. And it worked, she walked over to you and grabbed the book and flipped it to a page and gave it back to you. It was a drawing of you when you had first met Ellie but from her point of view. She drew you like a goddess. You looked at Ellie who had walked away and stripped out of her clothes and changed into new boxers and sat on her bed and stared at you for probably the 100th time that night. You took that as a sign and closed the book and walked over to her bed. You had also stripped out of your clothes while remaining in eye contact with ellie. Once you were down to your panties she grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the bed.

She wrapped her arms around your waist and laid her head in your chest. You brought your hand up to play with her hair. She was starting to fall asleep. Her breathing was getting slower and her grip on you was getting loose. You had thought she had fallen asleep and reached over to turn her lamp off when she broke the silence. “What are we now?” Ellie asked through shallow breaths. She was trying to stay up when you heard your answer. “What do you want us to be els” you said as you took her glasses off so she did not ruin them in her sleep. “Can you be my girlfriend? Only if you want to” she inquired as her speech got slower. 

“You don't know how long I have waited to hear that from you. Of course. I would love to be your girlfriend” you said as you pulled Ellie from your chest to kiss her and then layed her back down. You felt her smile and kissed the skin of your breast. Tiredness finally got the both of you and you two drifted off to sleep.

Ellie woke up the next morning to find you not in bed next to her. She started to panic. Did you really leave her after everything that happened last night? Did you really lie to her face and say that you weren't leaving? Her thoughts were cut off by something hitting the counter in the kitchen. She quickly got up and stuck her head out the door. Her heart rate slowed down when she saw your figure leaned over the counter in nothing but her shirt from last night and your panties peeking out from under. 

She quickly and quietly stalked up behind you to try and scare you when she noticed you had a front camera facing her and you were looking at her through the camera. “I heard the door open you ain't slick Williams” you said as you wrapped your arms around her neck and pressed a kiss to her lips. She still wasn't wearing a shirt though you didn't mind. “You look good in my clothes, like really good” she said as she pressed kisses on your neck and slid her hand down to grab your ass. You moaned softly and brought her face back up to yours and slipped your tongue into her mouth. She groaned at the feeling all pulled away  and dragged you right back to her room. 

“What about the teas?” you questioned even though you didn't care about it and neither did ellie. Ellie had pushed you down on the bed and lifted your(her) shirt off your body.  Her mouth connected with your hardened nipple and she flicked her tongue over the hardened bud and rolled the other one under her thumb. “You're not sore are you” she asked as she looked up at your face. You simply shook your head no and she looked at you with the most sinister smile ever. “Well you're about to be” she said as she leaned over your body and opened a drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a black harness and a sage green at least 7 inch dildo.

She buckled herself in and attached the fake dick to the harness. She slid the gusset of your panties to the side and lined herself up with your tight cunt. She rubbed the tip of the fake dick on your slick cunt to get it wet enough to not hurt you. “Are you ready baby?” she asked as she rested her hand on your hip and got ready to thrust. You nodded your head but that wasn't good enough. “Words baby, words are you ready”  she said as she held your face. “Yes ellie please i'm so ready” you panted, ellie slowly thrusted in until she bottomed out and you were a moaning mess. Ellie pulled out almost all the way and snapped her hips quickly back flush against your ass. The sound was almost vulgar. Ellie reached up to the top of the headboard and held onto it to keep herself steady.

“Youre doing so good for me baby so- fuck- very good holy shit” Ellies thrusts were getting sloppy but she was determined to have you cum first. “Faster Ellie please oh my god I'm so close” you nearly screamed as your nails scratched down Ellies back. You covered your mouth as your moans got louder and louder but Ellie moved your hand away. “It's okay to be as loud as you want no one lives on this floor but me” she said while panting. She knew you were close because it was getting harder for her to thrust into you. 

She brought her hand down to rub your clit in tight circles and that's what sent you over the edge. “Holy fuck ellie im gonna cum- im gonna fucking cum” you yelled as you squirted all over her strap and her lower tummy and thighs. “Such a good girl for me you're gonna make me fucking cum” Ellie said in the same moment she came from the harness bumping and rubbing against her clit. 

Ellie pulled out of you slowly and threw her strap off and laid down next to you in the bed. The two of you were trying to catch your breath. “You still want that tea?” Ellie asked as she stood up. You nodded your head yes and Ellie left the room.

‘You sent $50’ 

'This is totally like a walk of fucking shame’

‘HA I FUCKING KNEW IT’

[christopherisfoive]

Terms and Conditions (Changbin one-shot)

Roommate AU | Changbin x Reader | Comedy + Sugesstive | College Setting

word count: 1.3 k

a/n: last one shot before the requests start coming out. also i feel so warm that so many of you actually sent me requests. I was only expecting one or two. T-T makes me so happy that you guys want more of my writing. <3

You and Changbin were never supposed to be roommates.

You were supposed to live with Mina—your quiet, soft-spoken friend from chem lab who baked banana bread and cried during Pixar movies. Not with her extremely built, extremely loud best friend who apparently thinks 3AM is a perfectly reasonable time to blast a gym playlist and deadlift in the living room.

But Mina bailed after getting into a study abroad program in Europe.

And Changbin, who “just needed a place for the semester,” slid into her spot with a duffel bag, ten tubs of protein powder, and a megawatt smile like this was some kind of blessing.

You told yourself you could handle it.

Two months later, your self-control is hanging on by a thread, and you’re convinced the universe is laughing at you.

Especially when he walks around shirtless. All. The. Time.

Now, here you are—sitting in the cramped kitchen of your shared apartment at 11:48PM, watching him absolutely obliterate a tub of protein powder like it insulted his ancestors.

"That is not one scoop," you mutter, staring as he shovels another mound into his shaker bottle.

Changbin doesn’t look up. “It’s leg day tomorrow.”

“It was leg day yesterday.”

“And?”

“And you sound like a blender when you breathe after the gym.”

He finally glances up from his protein apocalypse, one eyebrow raised. His hair is damp from a shower, sticking to his forehead. He’s shirtless, obviously, because why wouldn’t he be? And the gray sweatpants aren’t helping. You’re only human.

“You have no idea how much I hold back just to be a tolerable roommate,” he says, shaking the bottle like he’s challenging it to a fight. “I could be doing protein shots in the bathroom at 3AM. Be grateful.”

“Oh, I am. Especially when you moan while drinking it.”

“I do not moan—”

“You do. Yesterday? You drank it like it was your last request on death row.”

His mouth twitches. “Sorry I enjoy my supplements. Some of us are dedicated.”

You roll your eyes and toss a popcorn kernel at him. It bounces off his shoulder.

He picks it up. Eats it.

“You’re lucky I’m not territorial angel,” he says, mouth full. “You keep stealing my stuff.”

“I borrowed one scoop of pre-workout.”

“For what? Running your mouth?”

Your jaw drops. “Wow.”

“Wow what?” He grins. “Wanna fight about it?”

You stand. “I’ll win.”

“You’re like half my size.”

“I have rage strength.”

“You have cartoon character energy.”

You’re in each other’s faces now, barely six inches apart. You hadn’t meant to close the distance, but the smirk on his lips dared you to, and now neither of you is backing down.

His eyes flicker down—just once—to your lips.

And there it is.

That quiet shift.

The silence between a joke and a mistake.

You swallow. “This is a really bad idea.”

Changbin’s voice drops. “What is?”

“Whatever this is.”

“We’re just talking,” he says, tone too low, too easy. “Having a little midnight bonding.”

Your heart is hammering. You want to step back. You really do.

But then he leans in, just a fraction, breath warm against your cheek.

“You gonna take more of my protein powder, baby?” he murmurs.

You blink. “What the hell.”

“Sorry,” he says quickly, laughing. “Slipped out.”

“Yeah, okay. Keep it in your pants, gym boy.”

“Can’t promise anything if you keep staring at me like that.”

“I’m not staring.”

“You’re absolutely staring.”

There’s another beat of silence.

Your voice comes out quieter. “You’re not as annoying when you’re quiet like this.”

He tilts his head, eyes never leaving yours. “You’re not as mean when your voice goes all soft like that.”

You stare at him.

He stares back.

It’s only a second.

But it lingers.

You finally clear your throat. “Goodnight, Changbin.”

You turn and walk off—quick, firm steps, refusing to let him see your expression.

You don’t see the smile tugging at his lips.

Or the way he whispers, “Yeah. Night, baby,” under his breath.

It’s 1:30AM, and you’re standing in the kitchen, hunting for something to snack on—because why not eat half your weight in chips when you're trying to avoid sleep?

The silence between you and Changbin has been stretched thin ever since your brief moment in the living room. It’s not that you’re avoiding each other—well, maybe you are—but it's mostly because you know if either of you opens your mouth, you're gonna say something ridiculous.

“Found them,” you mutter to yourself as you pull open a cupboard.

Suddenly, Changbin appears next to you, and you don’t even notice until your elbow accidentally jabs into his ribs.

“Ow—what the hell?” Changbin huffs, taking a step back, but in the process, his foot hits the trash can, sending it tumbling across the floor.

You panic. “No!” You scramble forward to catch it, but you’re too late—your hand shoots out, and in a clumsy attempt to steady yourself, you slam into him.

Changbin stumbles back, and you’re completely off balance now. His body collides with yours, and suddenly, your face is inches from his. Your hands fly to his chest, but he’s already got his arms around you to keep you from falling flat on your face.

And then—like the universe just decided to mess with you both—your lips land right on his.

It’s a full kiss. Not a light peck, not a brush of lips—no, you accidentally full-on kiss Changbin like it’s something you’ve been doing for years.

You freeze.

Changbin freezes.

The moment drags out for way too long, and you’re both too stunned to move.

You pull back first, but not before you notice the way his lips look swollen and the breath he’s holding in.

“Uh…” you clear your throat. “Sorry. That was—”

“Yeah, it was,” he says quickly, his voice rougher than usual.

“I didn’t mean to—”

He cuts you off with a smirk.

“Didn’t mean to kiss me like that?”

You roll your eyes. “I didn’t mean to kiss you at all, okay?”

He grins wider. “Mhm. I’m pretty sure that’s the second time you’ve said that.”

“I swear to god—”

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” he adds, watching you closely as you try to compose yourself. He leans closer, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Now, I’m curious, Y/N. What’s it feel like?”

You blink. “What’s what feel like?”

“Kissing me.”

Your face goes hot.

“You’re unbelievable,” you say, flustered and trying to get back to your bag of chips.

“Come on. You can’t just kiss me and not talk about it.” He steps in front of you, blocking the pantry. “You can’t get away with that.”

You shove at his chest lightly, but Changbin stays right there, a little too close for comfort.

“I wasn’t kissing you on purpose,” you protest, crossing your arms defensively.

Changbin grins, leaning in even closer, his voice dropping lower. “Really? Because it seemed pretty intentional to me. What’s it like to kiss someone this handsome?”

You’re about to smack him, but instead, you breathe out an exasperated laugh.

“I hate you sometimes.”

He smirks. “I know you don’t. You wouldn’t have kissed me if you did.”

You glare at him, trying to hide your smile, but it's impossible.

“You know,” he continues, eyes gleaming, “I think this whole ‘not being in a relationship’ thing is getting old.”

You narrow your eyes. “We live together. We’re basically in a relationship.”

“Hmm.” He raises an eyebrow. “So, when are you gonna kiss me again? Accidentally, of course.”

You groan. “I didn’t—”

He steps back, clearly satisfied. “Yeah, sure. Keep denying it.”

You walk past him to grab your chips, and Changbin calls after you.

“You know,” he says casually, “I’m just gonna say it. I think we should kiss again, but on purpose this time.”

You flip him off without turning around.

[obvithe-bestsoph]

meeting his parents. - barca boys (and marc)

summary: how lamine yamal, pablo gavi, pedro gonzalez, pau cubarsi, and hector fort would ask you calm you down when you're nervous before going to spend your first Christmas with his family. a/n: the long awaited 100 follower special! to some people this doesn't seem like many, but to me, i would forever be grateful for just one, so this is a big deal in my mind! i would like to specially thank @nngkay for being around this blog, more or less since the beginning, and @vvssqqz6 for constantly liking and reblogging my posts! thanks to @pedricos for giving me ideas and motivation to write. and thank you to you. for reading this, (hopefully for liking it), and to anyone who has supported my writing in any way in the past! here's to another 100, love, - obvithebestsoph 💕💕 masterlist requests genre: fluff/comfort. warnings: none.

Lamine noticed you nervously adjusting your shirt for the millionth time in the last five minutes, your eyes flicking between the floor and the couch. You hadn’t said anything aloud, but he could sense the tension that’s building up inside you. He knew how important today was for you. Meeting his family for the first time, especially during Christmas, was bound to bring a wave of nervousness over you. You were excited, of course, but you couldn’t shake the anxiety in your stomach either. 

“Hey,” he said softly, elbowing your side to get your attention, “¿qué ocurre (what’s wrong)?” You turn your head to look at him and smile tightly back at him, “Yeah, I’m just… nervous, I guess.” Lamine frowns, “Nervous? About what?” 

You sighed and fixed your hair yet again. “I really want them to like me, Lamine. It’s your family, they’re important to you, so I want them to like me. I don’t want to mess anything up.” Lamine smiles at you reassuringly, slinging an arm around you in a casual fashion. “I promise, they’re going to love you. Mi mamá’s been pestering me to meet you, and Keyne’s hardly scary. You’ll be fine.”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, raising an eyebrow. “You say that now, but what if I say something awkward or do something weird? What if they don’t think I’m good enough for you?” He just laughed, shaking his head. “You’re not going to mess up. You’re perfect as you are.” He smiles more softly now, his dark brown eyes looking into yours, “They’re so excited to meet the person who makes me so happy. You have nothing to worry about.”

His words were gentle, but as they usually do, they carried a confidence that made you feel lighter. Lamine talked about them so fondly, you knew they’d be kind, but the thought of being actually in the same room as them for the first time still made your palms a little sweaty. 

“Besides,” Lamine continues, more playful now, “if you ever feel too nervous, just hang out with Keyne. He gives the best hugs and he’ll happily tell you all about all his soft toys and their names.”

You laughed, “I’m sure I’ll be fine, so long as I don’t embarrass you.” 

Lamine’s face softened once again as he turned your face to look at him. “You could never embarrass me, mi amor. You mean so much to me, and my family knows that, and I’m excited for them to see it in person too.” 

You take a deep breath, feeling the weird tossing of your stomach soothe as the moments pass. Lamine was right, annoyingly, he often is. His family would see how much you both love each other, and they’d understand. There’s nothing to be nervous about.

“You always know how to calm me down,” you whispered, leaning into his side, his body warm, as usual. 

Lamine kissed your forehead. “That’s because I’m always around your anxious ass. I’ve cracked the code on how to make you see sense again.” he snickers, and you playfully slap his arm. 

After a few more moments of laughing, the room goes quiet again and Lamine smiles at you. “Ready to go?” He holds his hand out for you to take as he stands up to leave. You nod and lace your fingers with his, heading towards the front door. 

“Te amo (i love you).” he murmurs as he kisses the top of your head. “Yo también te amo (i love you too).” you smile up at him, and he smiles back.

You were pacing again. Back and forth in front of Pablo’s bed, feeling too restless to sit still. Christmas in Los Palacios. With his family. His parents. His sister.

You froze when you heard a soft laugh behind you. 

“Bebé,” Pablo says, calling your attention as he leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a teasing, but soft, smile on his face, “you’re going to wear a hole in the floor. Cálmate.”

You gave him a look, but he was already walking towards you, his presence alone making the nerves calm slightly. “I’m freaking out, Pablo,” you said, the words coming out faster than your normal tone. “What if they don’t like me? What if I say something weird or-” “-trip over something? Spill wine on mi mamá’s couch? Bring a dish with ingredients that someone’s allergic to?” he offers, raising an eyebrow with that stupid, teasing smile still on his face. 

You groaned and slapped his chest. “You’re not helping!”

Pablo laughs, pulling you into his arms. His arms slide around your waist like they have done a million times before, like that’s his favourite place for them to be, and maybe, it is. “I am helping. I’m making you realise how silly it sounds.”

You sigh, resting your forehead against his chest, the steady beat of his heart against your ear. “I just… I want them to like me. I mean, they’re your parents. This is kind of a big deal.” 

“They’re going to like you.” he said firmly, and when you looked up, he was already looking down at you with those big, perfect eyes of his. “They’re going to love you, actually. Because I do.”

Your breath hitched ever so slightly at the way he said it, so very certainly. Like it was the most obvious and natural thing in the world. “You do?” He rolled his eyes with a grin. “Of course I do. Do you really think I’d take any girl home for Christmas? Mi mamá might cry. She’s a crier. Mi papá will pretend he’s chill, but he’s probably going to ask about your entire life story 10 minutes after you meet him. And Aurora? She’ll be happy to have another girl her age-ish around.”

“Dios mío.” you mutter, burying your face in his hoodie. “But they’ll love you,” he said, his voice a little softer now. “Because you make me ridiculously happy. You’re the first person I’ve never been nervous to bring home.” Your heart squeezed a little. All your nerves, your doubts, your ‘what-if’s - they didn’t disappear, but they felt quieter, dulled by the way Pablo seemed so confident and the way he held you tight. He made you feel like you already place in his family, even if you hadn’t actually met them yet. 

You wrapped your arms tighter around his waist and then dropped them to your sides in a final squeeze. “Vale, I’m ready.” “Good,” he murmured, kissing your temple. “Because they’ve been ready for you since the second I told them about us.”

You stared blankly at the half packed suitcase on the bed, then at the closet, then back at the suitcase. “This is ridiculous,” you mumbled to yourself, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I’m just meeting his family. It’s not the end of the world. I shouldn’t be this nervous.”

Still, your heart’s going crazy, and your hands can’t stop fidgeting. You’d packed and then unpacked three times already, trying to find the perfect thing to wear to impress Pedri’s parents. Pedri walked in a moment later, phone still in hand, but his attention almost immediately shifted from the Instagram post he was looking at to you. “You okay?” he asked, his voice calm and even as usual. 

You looked up, giving him a nervous smile. “I feel like I’m going to forget how to speak the moment I meet tu mamá.” He chuckled, tossing his phone onto the bed and walking over to sit beside you, “You’re overthinking, sol (sunshine). My parents are going to love you.”

You give him a fairly sassy look. “You have to say that.” “No,” he said, giving you a sassy look back, and bumping your shoulder gently with his. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”

Pedri took your hand in his, running his thumb slowly over your knuckles. “My mamá’s going to be obsessed with you. She’s been asking about you for weeks. And my papá? He already likes you. He said anyone who can make me this happy and in line must be some sort of saint.” 

You let out a small laugh, despite the nerves. “So I’ll be fine?” “You’ll be perfect.” he grins.

You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder, grateful for how effortlessly he calms your nerves. “I just… I want them to see how much I care about you. I don’t want to mess it up.”

Pedri turned toward you slightly, his voice quiet and genuine.  “You already show me how much you care every single day. They’re going to see that too. And if they don’t see it in the first five minutes, my mamá will get out the baby photo albums to embarrass me, and, if you pay attention, you’ll be her favourite forever.” You smile into his shoulder. “Tempting. You were a cute ass baby.” He grinned and kissed the top of your head. “Just be yourself. That’s who I love, and that’s who they’ll love, too.” 

Pedri stood up and offered his hand to you. “Vamos, we have a suitcase to pack, a flight to catch, and my mamá made croquetas. If you’re nervous, eat first. That’s her rule for everything.” You laughed and took his hand, butterflies still fluttering, but in a different way now. 

Maybe, just maybe, it would be okay.

You sat curled up on Pau’s bed, knees hugged yo your chest, your suitcase still half-zipped and lying on the floor. Everything was packed. Everything was ready. But you weren’t.

Your mind kept spinning in circles. ‘What if they don’t like me?’ ‘What if I say the wrong thing?’ ‘What if I somehow embarrass Pau or myself in front of his whole family?’

You barely noticed the sound of footsteps before you felt the bed dip beside you. Pau didn’t say anything at first - just sat quietly, his presence calm as always, like he knew you needed a minute or two. 

Finally, you glanced at him. “Is it obvious I’m lowkey freaking out?” He smiled gently, his green eyes warm and soft. “A little. But only because I know you.” You groaned and hid your face behind your knees, “I’m sorry. I know this is supposed to be exciting, and it is, I promise. I just… I don’t know. Meeting your parents feels like a really big deal.” 

Pau nodded slowly, taking his time to respond. “It is a big deal. But that doesn’t mean it has to be scary.” You looked up at him, your brows furrowed. “Aren’t you nervous?” He shook his head, and then reached for one of your hands, his fingers wrapping tightly around yours. “No. Because I know them, and I know you. And I know how much they’re going to like you.” 

You let out a shaky breath. “What if I say something weird? What if I don’t say enough? What if tu mamá thinks I’m too quiet? Or what if tu papá-” “Hey,” Pay cuts you off gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “It’s okay to be nervous. But you don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be yourself. My parents… they’re kind people. They’re not going to judge you. They’re excited to finally meet the girl I’ve been talking about for months.” 

A small smile makes its way onto your face. “You’ve been talking about me?” He smiled, his own cheeks going a little pink. “Kind of a lot.”

That made you laugh, and Pau laughed too, a little shyly, his eyes crinkling at the corners nonetheless. “Mi mamá’s probably already made ten different things to eat just because she doesn’t know what you like. She’s going to spoil you. And mi papá… he’s quieter, like you and me, but he’ll ask about football or something to bond with you.”

You look down at your joined hands, then up at Pau again. “I really want to make a good impression.” “You will,” he said simply. “Trust me.”

And the way he looked at you right then - so sure, so confident, so proud - you started to believe him. 

You squeezed his hand, another smile forming on your lips. “Okay, let’s go then.”

Pau smiled back, standing up and offering you his hand to help you up off the bed. “You’ve got this. And if anything gets weird, I’ll fake an emergency and drive us back.”

You laughed. “Deal.”

You were sitting on the edge of the couch, nervously twisting the strap of your bag in your hands. Your suitcase packed, coat hanging by the door, and Marc had already triple checked the passports and plane tickets. Everything was ready for the flight back to Barcelona… except for your nerves. 

Marc popped his head in from the hallway, grinning like he did, cheeks slightly pink from the cold air outside. “You ready?”

You hesitated. “Almost.”

He paused, then walked over, his smile softening when he saw the way you were chewing your bottom lip. “You’re nervous.” You sighed, leaning back on your hands. “Is it that obvious?” Marc sat down beside you, pulling you closer to him. “You’re usually the confident one between us. I’ve never seen you sit this still.” 

You let out a quiet laugh, then groaned. “I just… I want to make a good impression. I mean, it’s your family. What if they think I’m not good enough for their son or something? What if they don’t even like me?!”

Marc turned to face you fully, his expression serious, but soft. “Hey. Cállate, idiota (shut up, idiot). You’re overthinking this. First of all, that’s not even possible. And second, they’re not trying to like you. They already do. I’ve told them all about you. About how kind you are. How funny you are. How you’ve got this really annoying habit of stealing my hoodies and acting like it’s yours-”

You playfully smacked his arm, but he grabbed your hand before you could pull it back, lacing his fingers with yours. “I’m serious,” he said, voice quieter now. “They’re excited. Mi mamá’s been texting me asking what kind of snack you like, and mi papá’s already made a list of places to show you in Granollers. You don’t have to prove anything to them.” 

You blinked, taken aback by how certain he was. How calm. How much he believed in you. “You don’t think I’ll say or do something dumb?” Marc chuckled. “If you do, they’ll probably just think it’s funny. Like I do.” That made you smile, your nerves softening just a bit. Leaning your head on his shoulder, you let yourself breathe for the first time all morning. “Okay, I’m ready now. I think.”

Marc pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you there for a moment. “Good. Because mi hermana’s already threatened to disown me if I don’t bring you home soon.” 

You laughed again, the tension finally beginning to ease. “How nice of her,” you reply sarcastically. 

He grinned and then stood up. “Vamos. You’re about to be the favourite in the family, and I’m not even mad about it.”

You took his hand, heart still fluttering - but this time, it wasn’t from nerves. It was from the way he looked at you, with nothing but love.

“Okay, lowkey, what if your mamá hates me?” You asked the question halfway through putting on your jacket, frozen in place with one arm through the sleeve. Ferran looked up from where he was zipping up the duffel bag by the door, eyebrows raised, clearly not expecting that level so suddenly. 

“Hates you?” he repeated, blinking like you’d said something in another language. “What are you talking about?”

You let your arm flop uselessly out of the jacket and sat down on the bed, letting out a long digh. “I don’t know, Ferran. She’s your mamá. She probably has, like, sky-high expectations and perfect Valencian princess ideas of the girl her only son’s supposed to bring home. What if I disappoint her?”

Ferran stared at you for another few seconds, before slowly standing upright and crossing the room towards you, trying, and failing, not to laugh. 

“Valencian princess ideas?” he repeated, amused. “Do you hear yourself?”

You groaned and fell back on the bed, arms splayed out dramatically. “I’m serious.”

He climbed onto the bed next to you, propping himself up on one elbow as looked down at you. “Vale, escúchame, reina (okay, listen to me, queen). My mamá isn’t scary. She’s just a mamá. And she’s going to love you.”

You cracked an eye open. “You’re just saying that because you love me.”

“Exactly,” he said, kissing your cheek, “and soon, she’s gonna see that too.”

You turn to face him fully, propping your chin on your hand. “What if I talk too fast? Or sat something dumb in front of your papá? Or like… accidentally curse during dinner?” Ferran laughed again, then leaned in until your noses were almost touching. “Then you’ll fit right in.” That made you smile, despite the nervousness still bubbling in your stomach. 

He reached over to brush a piece of hair behind your ear, his voice gentler now. “You’ve got nothing to prove. You being you? That’s all they want. My sister’s already excited to meet you. My mamá’s probably baking something right now just because I told her your favourite dessert.” Your heart smiled. “You told her that?”

“Of course I did,” he said, as if it were obvious. “You think I’m not bragging about you every chance I get?”

You roll your eyes but the felt starts to ebb away.

He leaned in slightly, giving you a soft kiss. “Vamos. I’m excited.” You laugh and get up, resuming putting on your jacket.

You sat at the kitchen island, holding a mug of hot chocolate that you hadn’t touched in 10 minutes. Your bag was by the door. Your phone was charged. The car had a full tank of petrol. You’re due to leave in five minutes. And yet, you’re still spiraling. 

Across the kitchen, Héctor is humming to himself while getting his last few little bits ready, completely unbothered, like he wasn’t about to bring you home to meet the people who literally raised him. 

“Do you think your mamá and papá will like me?” you asked suddenly, your voice barely louder than a whisper. 

Héctor froze and turned to face you slowly, like he wasn’t sure if you were joking. You weren’t.

“Wait,” he said, wa;king over with a soft, confused smile. “You’re actually nervous?” You looked down at your hot chocolate. “Yeah… like, very.”

He leaned against the counter beside you, gently tugging the mug out of your hands and setting it aside. “You do realise my mamá’s probably already planned some sort of girl’s night for the two of you or something right?” Your head snapped up, “What?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. She’s excited to finally have another girl around. She even said, and I quote, ‘bring that sweet girl of yours around so I can finally meet her properly and feed her well.’ Her words. Not mine.”

You blinked. “That's oddly comforting.”

“She’s a mamá. It’s how she shows love,” Héctor said with a shrug, brushing his fingers over your wrist gently. “And my papá? He’s more reserved, but if you ask him anything about the garden or football, he’ll fall in love with you instantly.”

You let out a soft laugh, the knot in your stomach loosening by a fraction.

“No sé (i don’t know),” you mumbled. “I just… I want to be enough. For them. For you.”

Héctor’s hand immediately found yours, his fingers warm as always. “Oye,” he said, tilting his head so you’d meet his eyes. “You’re already enough. More than enough. You don’t have to try and be anything you’re not.” “But-” “Nope.”

He cut in softly, giving your hand a squeeze. “I’m serious, I wouldn’t be bringing you home if I wasn’t sure - if I didn’t want them to know the person who makes me the happiest.”

Your heart fluttered. 

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You’re not auditioning for anything. You’re just coming home with me. And they’re gonna love you, because you’re you.”

You leaned into his touch, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. “Vale. Let’s go meet your mamá and see what kind of terrifyingly welcoming night she has planned for me.”

Héctor grinned. “That’s my girl.”

And just like that - your nerves didn’t disappear completely. But they shrank under the warmth of his voice and the certainty in his eyes. With him, it didn’t feel so scary anymore. 

[machinemonstrosity]

HATRED'S EMBRACE | betrayed!1x1x1x1 x reader

WARNINGS - NONE , brief mentions of blood , fluff , comfort but 1x probably needs it more , he/she/they used interchangeably for 1x , 1x with wings truther

a/n - i promise i will get to requests at one point! writing has been difficult for me recently, hence why this one is a little short and maybe sloppy. this radioactive glowstick has been rotating in my head recently.........

She growled any time you attempted to wriggle away.

You never expected 1x1x1x1 to be so… cuddly.

Huge clawed hands grappled at the fabric of your shirt, the surprisingly delicate touch leaving sharp fingertips to lightly graze your stomach. Large wings enveloped you in a dark cocoon, obsidian feathers rustling in sync to the steady rise and fall of her chest. Their breath — in which you never knew he had — ghosted the back of your neck in warm gusts. Each exhale was rumbly, creating a quiet “hnngh” that eventually served as your rhythmic reassurance.

Despite how you initially tensed, bracing for impact and the sickeningly familiar heat of fresh blood trickling down flesh, nothing ever came. Her claws never pierced you. The cold press of the chains entangling their arms somehow never reached you. He caressed you as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

As if he didn't want to hurt you.

You were both shielded in your own little world. And he wasn't going to let you leave anytime soon.

Truthfully, you were afraid of the expression she was currently wearing. You expected some sort of disgusted scowl, a mocking sneer at your dependency towards such a beast, perhaps. No one in their right mind goes to the manifestation of hatred and malice for comfort, after all. Much less have said manifestation humor your desperate pleas.

The strange benefits of your existence being tolerated by 1x, you presumed.

Limbs interlocked with yours, you finally dared to contort your head behind your shoulder. Yet when your eyes caught the rough features of her face, you found nothing of what you feared.

They looked calm. Peaceful, almost.

He’s taken to burying his face in the top of your head, disheveled white hair falling over your shoulders. It was only after pestering 1x to the point you swore smoke was going to billow from their nostrils that she begrudgingly tore out her hair tie. Not to mention having to coax it out of his hand after — or the last few threads remaining of it.

Admittedly, he looked nice with their hair down. You swore their eyes softened a fraction when you complimented him, even if you were immediately brushed off with a dismissive click of her tongue and a snarl. Your kind words and gestures had an effect on him, whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not.

You would've maneuvered your body to face them if you knew it wasn't going to startle them. So instead, you settled, simply melting into their careful touch. Accepting his form of affection, knowing they were trying their best. After all, none of this would've been happening if 1x1x1x1 didn't care enough to comfort you.

Letting a walking glowstick snuggle you like a teddy bear made you smile, anyway.

And maybe she was desperate for some comfort, too.

[xo2dee]

So I know I requested something but this was just kind of an emergency request not in the sense that like it can't wait to be answered but in the sense that it was so sudden to ask and such, idk if that makes sense I hope it does anyways here it goes, if you would like you could just ignore the other request or what not I'm not sure but my grandad just passed away a week or so ago and it's the first major death I've ever had to deal with in my little 24 years of life. I was wonder how would Dante or Vergil comfort me, he was the closest thing I had to a father. Anyways thank you I live for your writing. ❤ also if you choose not to answer this request that is also okay too. I'll still happily enjoy the other pieces you write.

PAIRING: Dante x Reader WARNINGS: Angst, hurt/comfort, grief, loss of a loved one, talks of death. WORD COUNT: 917

A/N: first i hope you're doing okay babe, and im so sorry for your loss, and i hope by writing this i hope it makes you feel better and i chose dante for it since he feels a little easier giving a situation like this. i do hope you enjoy this and best wishes to you right now 🤍

DMC MASTERLIST

Feet dragging as you moped up the stairs and into your bedroom with the migraine of the century, you couldn’t help the stinging behind reddened eyes and your chest caving in on itself as you fought to come to terms with everything that happened in your life recently.

Losing a loved one was never something you wished to happen to anyone, let alone did you think it’d happen to yourself so suddenly and leave you grasping for precious memories after the shock finally settled in. The days leading up to the service and finally putting them to rest for how they asked was another grueling process on its own, and even then your emotional and mental state had taken a beating in all terms once you finally sat down alone and tried to fight your way through your mind. Or perhaps when you spent too long in the shower or bed, scowling as your throat began to close in itself and the tears began to blur your vision, but you had to remind yourself that you weren’t alone in having to suffer through grief. Not when you had someone who had an idea of just exactly what you were dealing with.

Dante had been nothing but the very thought of just what you needed in a time of loss – his touch bringing you solace and his humor brightening up your days as he pulled teeth and nails of his own to get you to smile and feel at ease.

Dante’s presence at your side was always a welcome one, whether he was just there to sit by your side or leaning into your body in his own form of physical affection, and in your moments of grief and adjusting to what had happened so suddenly he’d been there for you through and through. He’d been practically attached to you by the hip for a week, calloused hands shifting to soothe at your back or fingertips smoothing down the frowning lines that had taken to live on your forehead as your moods had plummeted for the time being. His words had been soft as was his touch to comfort you, his statement of “I have an idea of what you’re going through, but I wanna hear everything you wanna say.”, making you sigh and relax in his hold once you remembered you were in the presence of someone who could understand your grief to an extent.

He'd been so patient with you – never once teasing you when you didn’t immediately get up from bed to start the day, not caring how you stopped holding up your appearance for a time, making sure you stayed fed and hydrated in case you forgot to do either, and really, he was just there. A constant existence next to you with open arms and warmth beyond recognition to let you seek in particular awful moments at night. How many times had Dante let you just silently cry into his chest before you fell asleep there? It had been nothing but his arms holding you as he alternated between just letting you cry it out and a brief word or two to keep you in better spirits.

Yet as it went on, you couldn’t help but think you were beginning to wear down on Dante with the toll death was beginning to take on you.

And as you laid on the bed, yawning as the exhaustion of everything in life creeping up on you, you felt the mattress dip as Dante sat the edge of the bed and the back of his fingers caressed your face as you laid there. The touch made you sigh, and your eyelashes fluttered to keep back the treacherous weeping you’d done enough of while he was around, and you could only sniff through it and trying to bury yourself deeper into the sheets to avoid pestering him again. However, Dante was never one to let you slip so easily through his arms no matter the emotion you were feeling, pulling the sheets back away from your shivering form as he pulled you into his lap before his lips spoke comfort against your temple.

“You don’t have to be strong around me, y’know. It’s okay to not be okay and to not be strong. It’s okay to cry, and if you can’t cry that’s okay too. Don’t let anyone else tell you how to grieve.”

The caving of your chest suddenly felt too weighted with how it exploded in a myriad of different emotions, the first lone tear slipping from your eye a silent one as you hummed and turned your face into his neck for further warmth. Grief was an emotion you could taste as the tear nearly slipped through your lips, but in your heart you couldn’t help the love and elation you felt once Dante had confirmed he wasn’t giving up on you at all, and he’d be there regardless and no matter how long it took for you to be yourself again. And as long as you had Dante by your side, you knew you had those steppingstones along the way.

He shifted again to hold you better, thumb swiping away the tear sitting on your top lip as your ear listened to the soothing melody of his heartbeat before he asked, “What can I do?”

You could only smile, moving your hand until you were interlocking your fingers with his as you opened your eyes to meet his gaze, “You just did it.”

[jesncin]

I just read your piece about why Superman is boring a lot of the time and I'm always amazed at how you put into words things I've thought about in the past. So often people just leave him as this one dimensional, barely even there character that does such a disservice to how amazing his stories can be. That's why I love reading your comics cuz it's so clear you have so much care for this character and want to explore his story in all these new interesting ways. Idk I just felt like sharing how grateful I am for your art and thoughts and everything

Thank you! Gosh this is so kind. I knew writing a "Superman is boring" essay would ruffle people's feathers since it's considered a thing "only casuals who don't understand Superman's character would say", but I put my trust in the readership here to recognize that I'm someone who cares deeply for Clark as a character. So if I said "Superman is boring", there would be a nuanced reason behind it.

It's a disservice to Superman's character to discourage critical examination of how his character has evolved into a corporate, safe, nothing burger mascot. Fandom sayings like "and they say Superman is boring" or "Superman has always been an immigrant" believe that Superman's potential as a character is consistently or frequently met in canon and adaptation. And that's just untrue. I'm constantly disappointed that any Superman I've met in media hasn't lived up to the Superman I met in Smashes the Klan.

I'm forever grateful that folks like to read the thought that goes behind the fancomics, so thank you always for reading and letting me know! :)