#// but i figure you knew this was coming when you did this

[suguann]

✎. he tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, but he's also kinda sweet?? [18+ only]

You like your new roommate.

Simon’s surprisingly better to have around than the last person who lived with you—a girl you knew from college who had an affinity for stealing your clothes and conveniently never had money for rent. He’s the type to make you soup when you’re sick, acknowledge you if you’re in the same room, water your flowers while he rolls his cigarettes on the fire escape, and carry your groceries up the four flights of stairs to your floor. 

He’s attractive, too, in the not-so-conventional sense, but in a disarming way, all small smiles and knowing looks and soft hair you know he doesn’t put much effort into—that sometimes curls around his ears when he lets it get too long—yet it still manages to look better than yours on the best days. 

He never tells you what he does for work, and you’re too polite to ask. But you have a feeling he makes enough to afford a place on the less crime-infested side of town—somewhere nicer than your cramped apartment with its outdated appliances, leaky faucets, and the bright neon sign atop the building across the street that shines through your windows all times of the day—but he says he’s not ready to live alone.

Something tells you there’s more to it than him being a lonely bachelor, but again, you don’t pry.

“Does this place have wi-fi?” is all he’d said the first time you meet, in a voice so smooth and only slightly broken up by his accent, clad in a shirt that looked two sizes too small around his arms and clutching a duffle bag in one big hand. 

Your brain was this shaken-up box of words and syllables that when you answered him, it came out in a nervous stutter. “Y-yeah, I’ll, er…I’ll give it to you—the password, I mean—once you've moved in. If that’s okay.”

He’d dropped his duffle bag in front of the room that would be his. “Consider me moved in.”

The smile he gave you, crinkling eyes and chuckling lightly, only made the stutter worse. 

You let his charm roll off you; you always figured it came naturally to him, a characteristic that comes with being attractive and good.

A handful of months later—of finding a routine around each other and lazy smiles in the morning—something changes the night you go out with a guy Mary from work eagerly sets you up with. 

His name’s Robb, he’s a doctor, and you both love cats; he has a house in Spain. Did I mention he's my cousin?

(A dull no way concealed behind your teeth.

If you hadn’t said yes, you feared your entire lunch break would consist of her waxing poetic over a man you're unsure about meeting.)

For a flicker of a moment, there’s an unreadable expression on Simon’s face as he watches you touch up your makeup in the hallway mirror and slip your hand into the crook of your date’s elbow at the door. There’s a slight glint of something uncharacteristically cold behind the mask of indifference before a small smile replaces it.

“Have a nice night,” you throw over your shoulder, except you don’t notice that he never says it back.

You mope around the apartment when Robb—who surprisingly exceeded your expectations of mediocre dates, not that you ever plan on admitting that to Mary—doesn’t reach out to you for three days. Then a week. You’re at that age to understand when people get busy, and a nice night doesn’t always mean it’s mutually reciprocated. But you liked him, and it felt promising after he’d kissed you goodnight against your front door. 

It had to have been the kiss that turned him off. Maybe he realized it was too much too soon.

When Simon finds you curled up in a ball under your comforter, one thumb gently wiping away your tears, he doesn’t even bring up your date. Instead, he orders your favorite take-out and puts on a sitcom you’d mentioned to him once—somewhat surprised that he remembers—the dreamy doctor who’d ghosted you blissfully forgotten with greasy food and a warm, comforting chest to rest your head on.

Simon’s there again—sweets in hand and a soft voice to soothe you—when another date (Rin from finance on your floor) a month later is a no-show, and a few weeks after that when Rin tells you without context that he can’t see you anymore. 

The third time of let downs feels worse. It’s worse because maybe there’s something wrong with you, and when you ask Simon, he’s too nice to rub salt in your wounds. He tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

You've been Simon's roommate for a year, and he doesn't take it well when you tell him you're looking for a new place.

It’s after he comes home from a three-month work trip. The shadow that crosses over his face should’ve been your first hint that something is wrong.

Had you noticed the signs sooner, you wonder if you’d be less like prey caught by the softness of your underbelly, kept in place by the scruff, and sharp teeth at your neck.

"Beg me. Beg me not to cum in you."

"S-Simon," you whimper wetly, "don't cum in—ah—me."

His fingers hold your chin with an unyielding grip, ensuring your gaze doesn’t stray from his in the cracked mirror. You’re embarrassed by what you see, how spread open you are to his dark, inkwell eyes hungrily watching as you twitch when his other hand slides between your thighs.

"Don’t stop begging, love,” he growls, squeezing you tighter, “or I might forget."

There’s that dark look again, the one that sends a shivery feeling up your spine, possessive almost with how he traces every inch of you as if burning the image of you into his memory, the softness washed away by something more sinister. 

A little voice in the back of your head tells you to flee, but another knows he'd find joy in catching you. 

No one would ever think your sweet, attractive roommate would be the same man staring at you now—everything you thought you knew about him stripped away to reveal a new canvas, bare for splashes of paint to fill in the cracks—teeth marks imprinted along the curve of your jaw, on the inside of your thighs.

He hides it well. His humble personality doing the trick of being the impenetrable mask for what he’s concealing underneath: a raw obsession, an addict finally getting his hands on his favorite drug, someone who can’t recognize defeat and knows how to take.

“What do they have that I don’t? Hm? Must be a desperate little thing. My pretty slut,” Simon’s voice rumbles low against your ear, shy of unhinged. “They won’t treat you as good as I do. Don’t I treat you good?”

You whimper when his grip grows tighter, but he doesn’t seem to notice—like he’s not fully here with you. No trace of the soft, gentle man who keeps the freezer full of your favorite ice cream, who runs to the store when you run out of tampons and comes back with chocolate and a new pair of fuzzy socks. A few words have turned him into someone you don’t know. Perhaps you never did.

“Answer me.”

An indiscernible  squeak is the only sound you make. 

He chuckles darkly, his head dipping down to rest his lips against the fluttering pulse in your neck, a finger slipping through the alarming amount of wetness between your thighs where his cock rends you down the middle, and begins rubbing firm, tight circles over your clit, pulling a moan from your throat. 

“It’s okay, love,” he mumbles, words barely audible above your heartbeat swimming in your ears. “I’ll be everything for you. Everything you need. I’ll show you why I’m better.”

[patscorner]

write a Paige fic with them being rivals on the court but secret lovers off the court please and thank you patty🫶

yes ma'am 🫡

Always and Forever

Summary: You and Paige hate each other, or that's what you have everyone else thinking.

wc: 1,780

Contains: swearing, two kisses, just fluff

______________________________

For as long as you could remember, you loved basketball. You don't know when it started, but you knew that it was gonna be your future career. You joined your first team in 5th grade, and quickly became MVP, making progress faster than you could blink.

There was another girl in your class, and for whatever reason, she hated you. She also happened to be on the same basketball team. She made it known she didn't like you, because the first day of tryouts, she shoved you for no reason. Her hatred for you didn't stop there though, she refused to pass the ball to you, even if it meant costing your team a game, or taking unnecessary risks.

Nobody knew why she disliked you, but that animosity only grew as you both did. But there wasn't anything you could do, you both loved basketball, and you weren't gonna stop playing because some kid didn't like you.

But what you didn't know is that she felt the exact opposite. She was so painfully in love with you and so deep in the closet that she didn't know what to do with these feelings. Her only solution was to make you hate her.

Another thing you didn't know is that you felt the exact same way. If an outsider were to look at you two, you'd think it was one of the most intense long lasting rivalries of all time. But you two were head over heels for each other.

You only found out your junior year in high school, because the teachers and coaches were tired of you both bickering. They put you two in a room and told you to figure your shit out. Obviously, it started in a screaming match, but eventually you both grew tired of arguing, and a different type of tension filled the room.

You both start to have an actual conversation, without the arguing and fighting. Of course, there were small jabs at each other, you both still weren't friends, but by the end of the day, you weren’t enemies. Nobody knew that you were gay, so the only solution in your eyes was to pretend to hate each other.

Eventually, she admitted her feelings for you, and you didn't say you liked her back, but instead answered with a kiss. You started dating shortly after, and decided to keep your relationship on the down low. You both know it's for the best, as not everyone was open to the idea of you being gay, including your parents, so you both continued pretending to hate each other.

Even if everybody else thought you couldn’t stand each other, you were so head over heels for the kid who hated you for all of elementary and middle school.

Little did you know that kid would end up being the Paige Bueckers.

“So how does it feel being matched up against Paige Bueckers? I know that you guys have a long history.” the reporter asks, her smile matching yours. Oh, you have history. She's been your girlfriend for about five years now, but the media didn't know.

You and her were never super far from each other, since she got accepted to Uconn, and you got a scholarship to CCSU. The colleges were only thirty-five minutes away from each other, so that made seeing each other much easier.

“Yeah, it's gonna be tough, she's a good basketball player, y’know, great defense, amazing three-pointers.” You smile at the camera. “I'm excited, I can't wait to absolutely destroy her. I've done it before, and I'll do it again, no problem.”

The reporter chuckles at your words. “Big talk, can't wait to see the match up. Anything last words for Paige?” You can't help but smile at the reporter’s egging you on.

“Yeah, give me your worst, Bueckers. I'm coming for you, baby.” You say with a wink, before thanking the reporter, and walking away. You can't help but shake your head at the ridiculousness of your empty words. Everyone but Paige thought you were being serious, and to an extent you were, you had a bet with her that you'd score more than twenty points this game, but the rest was bullshit.

Of course, Paige saw the interview, laughing at your ‘seriousness’. So when it was her turn to be interviewed, she had to say something back.

“I mean, it'll be a fun game. Can't wait to see the big game that CCSU’s ‘top player’ was yapping about.” She throws up hand quotations and tilts her head mockingly as she speaks. “I'm excited to bring her hell and knock her off that tall ass high horse she's sat herself on.”

The reporter is eating up every word coming out of Paige’s mouth.

“Lots of trash talk from both ends, it seems the feud continues?” Paige nods and smiles. “Always and forever.” She winks at the camera as she speaks.

Always and forever.

The words Paige made you repeat back to her when she gave you the promise ring that you had safety-pinned to your jersey at all times. When you first put it there, it sent the media into a spiral, rumors spreading like wildfires. When interviewers finally asked you about it, you said there was someone, but the rumors about who were all incorrect.

Nobody would've guessed Paige, and you both made sure to keep it that way.

The game was just as tough as you imagined it would be. With 4 seconds left in the fourth quarter, the score was tied, 89-89. It was the Huskies ball, and they had one chance to win.

Nika passes the ball to Aubrey from out-of-bounds, starting the shot clock. Aubrey sneaks past defense, and attempts to pass into Paige. But, Aubrey's defender blocks the shot with her fingers, sending the ball flying into your hands.

You react quickly, sprinting back towards the basket, watching as the shot clock hits one second. You're only half-court, but you don't have enough time to get any closer, so you take the risk and let the ball fly.

Just as the ball leaves your hands, the buzzer goes off, and the stadium goes silent as the ball soars through the air. You freeze as you watch the ball fall through the net, the crowd erupting into screams. Your shot went in, making the final score 92-89.

You're immediately surrounded by your teammates, who are chest bumping you, and dapping you up. This moment is something you never want to end, but there's something missing. This moment won't be the same without one thing.

You manage to wiggle free from your extremely hyped up teammates, ignoring your name being called as you make your way to the Uconn bench. You try to ignore the eyes on you, as you find the only person you want to ever have to look for.

When you spot the back of her head, you quickly make your way to her before your confidence runs out. You pull her sleeve, and her eyebrows furrow as she makes eye contact with you.

“What-” She starts, but you cut her off.

“I'm going to kiss you now.” You say, but you don't move. You want to make sure this is what she wants, but as the smile grows on her face, her compliance becomes clear.

“Okay.” she nods as her face turns a bright pink.

You grin as you pull her into a searing kiss, her hands finding your waist as she reciprocates your passion. You hear the gasps around you, which only makes you smile more. When you feel Paige grin against your mouth, you wrap your arms around her neck.

She pulls away, laughing as your whine. Even though there's thousands of people in the room, she only cares about you. “Guess they know now.” she chuckles.

“Paige Madison Bueckers! What the fuck?!” KK screams, causing Paige to roll her eyes and look over her shoulder. “Can I help you?” She deadpans. “I'm a little busy right now.”

KK’s jaw drops even more from the audacity. "I can see that, I better be filled in after."

Paige looks back at you and smiles. “Yeah, later. Now, do you mind?”

“Oh, by all means, continue making out with your arch-nemesis. Don't let me, the six giant cameras, or the sold-out arena stop you.”

You laugh at this, kissing Paige’s cheek before pulling away. You look at your team, and around the stadium, and everyone's sharing the same expression, jaws dropped, eyes wide, and frozen in shock. You look up, and see yourself on the big screen.

Paige smiles down at you, her arm still wrapped around your waist. “I can't believe you did that. You're fucking crazy.”

You shrug and smile. “You love it.”

She kisses the top of your head. “Damn right.”

After the excitement of the kiss calmed down, the same reporter from earlier asked to interview both of you, to which you of course said yes.

“So what is your guys’ relationship status?” She asked, pointing the mic in your direction. You smile widely before answering. “Paige is my girlfriend, and she has been for five, almost six years.”

The reporter shakes her head in shock. “What made you guys choose to keep it a secret and cover it up with a seemingly harsh feud?” This time, she hands the mic to Paige, who shakes her head.

“Well, it started out real. Like I could not stand her, ever since we were on the same basketball team in fifth grade. But eventually, I started to like her, then I started to love her. Turns out she liked me too, so in high school we started to date.” She finished with a shrug.

“Oh wow, I mean this is a shock to everyone. You both played it off very well. What were some of the hardest moments?” You nod as the reporter speaks.

“Probably pretending to not care, especially if one of us has a rough loss or a great win. It was hard not to comfort or celebrate publicly.” You say.

“So everything after junior year in high school was fake? The rivalry, I mean.”

You smile. “Yeah, it was all for the cameras.” Paige’s eyes light up as she looks down at you. The camera picked up on the sparkle in her eyes as she looked at you with nothing but love.

Her hands squeeze your waist as the interview ends, and you both walk away. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and you've never felt happier.

You knew that whether the world knew or not, it was gonna be you and her.

Always and forever.

______________________________

taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris

[totaly-obsessed]

Goals and Glitter

Alexia Putellas x reader

-> Alexia comes in to teach a class for Alba and her co-worker

-> Happy early birthday to @wosoamazing!

-> Word Count: 3.100

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Alba have you seen my - Oh.”

Stunned Alexia stood still in her sister's living room. She had just given herself entry to Alba’s house, trying to find one of her favorite dresses that she couldn’t find since the last time that her sister had visited her.

But she hadn’t exactly expected her sister to have someone over. This wasn’t the first time that the footballer had barged in on Alba’s situation-ships, but this looked quite different than she was used to.

Papers were scattered all around the room, and she had nearly stepped into an open glue stick that was just left on the ground. Alba was sitting on the floor, as close to the coffee table as humanly possible, covered in glitter and paper scraps. 

But she wasn’t alone. Next to her, just as messy as her sister were you. Eyes wide in surprise at the blonde who had just loudly made an entrance to the room that had previously been filled with excited chatter, just the music was playing in the background.

“Hello.”

Alba couldn’t help but laugh at her sister, who had always been awkward when she was confronted with unusual or unsuspected situations.

“Hi.”-

Dear God, You weren’t any better either.

The soft music kept playing in the background until Alba couldn’t take it any longer. “Alexia, this is y/n, the teacher I am sharing my class with this year, you know the one I already told you about? y/n, this is Alexia, my older sister, she’s a weirdo who doesn’t respect my privacy. Or closed doors.”

The room plunged into awkward silence while Alexia and you stared at each other, Alba taking a figurative step back, watching the two of you, like it was a tennis match, even though nothing was happening.

“Do - Do you want to join us? We’re trying to make the next PE lessons for the kids.” The blonde still just stood there, frozen in the door as you looked at her, a hopeful glint in your eyes.

“It’s football.”

Well if you would have said that first, the footballer would have already said yes yesterday, but it had been Alba, who knew how to get her sister back to earth. “We’re trying to explain the rules to the kids.” As if to underline your co-workers, and friends, statements, you held up a hot-pink flashcard, with ‘Goal kick’ in fancy letters at the top and a definition beneath that.

“A type of restart where the ball is kicked from inside the goal area; awarded to the defending team when a ball that crossed the goal line was last touched by a player on the attacking team.”

The midfielder's eyebrows went up with hesitation. “You’re gonna use that, to explain to seven-year-olds?”

Alba’s head snapped up, ready to pounce on the opportunity. “Well we’re not the pros, you are! So what do you think? Could re-work the cards and come into class to teach the kids first hand!”

The footballer seemed to consider, eyebrows still furrowed as she looked at one of the other flashcards. “Well you could use some help, that’s for sure.”

“Great! You have time tomorrow, and so does y/n. Same time, at your place!” Alba didn’t give her sister time to protest, instead stacking all her already-made cards together before shoving them into Alexia's hands.

“I’ll send you her number, we need to go now!” And with that the young teacher pulled you up by your hand, dragging you out of the door, leaving Alexia behind, who was still frozen in place, now all alone in a house that wasn’t hers.

Why was she here again?

—

The following day Alexia was pacing in her living room, a simple rule book on her coffee table, anxiously waiting for you to arrive. Alba had indeed given her your number, leaving it up to the blonde to contact you. And she did, with a timid “Hey, it’s Alexia! Here’s my address, does the time still work for you?”

Your much more cheerful response had been very much welcomed by the footballer, who for some reason, unbeknownst to her, couldn’t stop smiling at a silly picture of you and Alba that you had set as your profile picture.

While she had been waiting for you to come, the actual sound of the doorbell startled her to no end, before hurrying towards it, hearing Narla bark quietly, somewhere else in her house.

“Hi Ale!”

A shy smile was on the midfielders as she opened the door further, gesturing for you to come in. While she was closing the door, you had already taken off your shoes, placing them neatly on the ground.

“Oh you could have just kept them on, no need to have cold -” Just at that moment you pulled out a pair of fluffy slippers out of your massive handbag and put them on, “-feet.”

“My Mama would kill me if she knew I was wearing shoes in such a lovely house Ale.” 

The blonde could hear her own mother scolding her for entering her childhood home with dirty sneakers over and over again. But Alexia had always been in a hurry, even as a child. Scarfing down dinner so that she could go out and play football with her friends, not even changing her clothes. “You brought slippers.”

“Mhmm, I did! I always have them on me, never know when your feet start hurting.”

And in that moment Alexia knew that Eli would love you.

The Spaniard leads you through a gorgeous hallway into an even prettier living room. It was light and warm. It felt familiar and in many places, you could see a little bit of your best friend Alba shine through. She definitely chose that pink fluffy blanket for when she came over, and the amount of pictures on the walls truly showed how much Alexia loved her family and friends, sometimes she wasn’t even in them.

“Don’t be mad, but I got rid of your flashcards.” She looked at you in anticipation, after all, she had gotten rid of your and Alba’s work, and she knew how her sister would react if she had been here. “Oh, no worries! You know the game best at the end of the day!”

Well, that had gone over much better than expected.

“Would you like a coffee?”

“That would be lovely Ale, thank you so much!”

In the kitchen, she could take a couple of deep breaths. Why was she so nervous? The only thing she’s supposed to do is help you with your class, help them learn about football - her life. But now with you sitting there on her couch, the prettiest smile and pink fluffy slippers she could feel herself melting like vapor in the sun.

“Oh hello!”

Your voice was an entire octave higher than before, as you greeted someone. Shit, she forgot about Nala. A tray of coffee, milk, and sugar was thrown together as quickly as the blonde could before she hurried back to the living room, fearing how her small, but feisty dog was attacking you.

“You’re such a good girl!”

Much to Alexia’s surprise Nala was on the couch, laying in your lap, letting you pet her stomach. The dog was writhing back and forth with happy little yips, looking at you offended once you stopped, nudging your hand with her nose so that you would continue.

“Oh, sorry! Is she not allowed on the couch?”

Alexia was still standing there, tray in hand and had not moved an inch. Seems to be a common theme once you are around. What was up with her? You’re just meeting so she can tell you about football. No other reason. 

“No! Uhmm, Nala’s fine, don’t worry. She just doesn’t like new people. Well, usually.”

With a shrug, you gestured for her to sit down, as she was still standing there. The sun hit her back perfectly, bathing her in a glowy afternoon sun. She was the most stunning person you had ever seen, an incredible physique with an even better smile, and an awkward personality upon first meeting, that you just had to love.

There wasn’t much planning done, the blonde reassuring you that she would take care of it after deciding on a date, where (coincidentally of course) Alba wasn’t there. Most of the time together was spent drinking coffee and chatting about the most random things like Alexia’s dog lead collection and your incredibly large caffeine consumption. The blonde didn’t want to agree, that it was very on-brand for a teacher to drink a lot of coffee and energy drinks, insisting that it was very unhealthy and her coaches and trainers would have her head. Alexia loved watching you laugh, saying the weirdest things that she knew would make you laugh, talking a lot about Alba and Nala, hoping that you would never stop.

“I think I should get going now, it’s already getting dark. Thank you so much for having me Ale, and I will see you on Friday! Let me know if something comes up?” Alexia was adamant that there was nothing in this world that could make her forget, or come in between their agreed on date.

—

You had warmed your students up to Alexia coming, reminding them again and again to be calm not yell too much, and to listen to your guest. So when Friday arrived the kids knew what was coming. You had cleared the rest of the day, pushing the lessons back and cutting out what wasn’t needed just so your new ‘friend’ would be in no time rush. 

When there was a timid knock at the door the kids straightened up in their seats, excited to meet the woman that you had been talking so much about and to finally see her in person. After introducing the idea of Alexia coming into your students, a few girls squealed in excitement - telling you all about how big fans they were, and that they watched her play on TV.

“¡Hola clase!”

The footballer was met with a silent classroom as came in, but she could see the jitters and bouncing legs of the students as they looked at her with wide-open eyes.

"What did we practice yesterday, class?” the students jumped up from their seats, standing in the walkways “¡Buenos días Alexia!”. Well, that wasn’t what you had practiced. The older teachers make the students stand behind their chairs and greet them in a choir, it seems like their brains defaulted back to what they know instead of just staying seated like they usually do in your and Alba’s classes.

“Good job you guys! Right, so let’s all grab our gym bags and then we’ll make our way to the gym. Remember to find your buddy in two rows please!”

Alexia was stunned, watching you talk to twenty kids like it was nothing, floating back and forth, making sure all kids were accounted for and had their change of clothes.

“¡Hola Ale! Thank you so much for coming, the Kids are so excited!” And so were you. Not that you would ever say it but you had called Alba in a hurry, asking her what to wear and what to bring for food, insisting on bringing something for her sister 

The younger Putellas was greatly amused, telling their mother all about the mutual forming crushes between you and her sister. You had met Eli at a summer festivity last year, where you and Alba had decided to take on a class together, and it was safe to say that the women loved you. Just like her daughters, she had been enamored with your smile and friendly personality. Hearing that Alexia had taken a liking to you, filled her with joy. A perfect fit.

“Thank you for having me, I am also really excited to meet them!” Those kids meant the world to you, and she could see it. Your hand was clutching her forearm before shoving a lunchbox into her bag. “Would you mind walking in the back? So that no one gets lost? I still get a bit anxious about making the trip.”

The footballer was much more on the calmer side, watching as you counted the kids again and again. “Don’t worry, no one will get lost on our watch, we’ve got this. Hmm?” With a gentle squeeze of your hand, she let go, making her way to the back of the line, immediately helping one of the shorter girls to put on her jacket.

Ben, a very anxious little guy, was already at the front of the line waiting to hold your hand like he usually did when the class left the room. “Let’s go then!”

You led the kids to the changing rooms before taking Alexia to one of the teacher's rooms. “Uhm, you can change here if you want to. I’ll look for another one!” Before you can close the door a warm hand closes around your wrist. “We can both change here if that’s alright with you. It's a big room.”

Alexia could see your nervousness as you turned around. “I won’t look, promise.” With a deep sigh, you decided to give in. Finding another unoccupied room would take too long and it was a part of the job, right? She probably changed in front of 10 people daily. But you were not a footballer that worked out three times a day.

There was a smug smile on Alexia’s face after she caught you staring at her abs in the mirror. “Hard work and dedication.” You could feel the heat shoot into your face as you looked away ashamed. She looked good and she knew it. The blonde was quite happy that you didn’t catch her staring at you. After all, she had a persona to fulfill. “Come on, let’s go!”

Even though she didn’t know where she was going, Alexia led you out of the room in the direction of shouting children. “Is it a possibility to go outside with the kids?” Sure she could do the exercises indoors, but most football was played outdoors and the weather was ideal for it. “Yeah, we have a small pitch just behind the gym.”

The kids were happy to hear you would go out, running in front of Alexia and you, who hand back to chat, in no need to hurry. But Ben was now glued to Alexia's hand, which felt very different in comparison to yours.

“Are you married to our teacher Miss Alexia?”

His endearing little voice sliced through the comfortable silence that took over after talking about your guy's plan. Ale couldn’t help but laugh at his innocent question and the way you seemed to find the floor incredibly interesting. “No, I’m not!”

The little boy let go of his new hero's hand and started running to his classmates, “That’s really sad!”, and then he was off.

“Well, he is certainly a character.” The blonde's arm brushed against yours, sending tingles all through your body. “Usually he’s quite shy. Sorry, I didn’t think he’d say that.” The smile was back on Alexia's face, “Oh don’t you worry.” Your head whipped up, questioning her statement as she continued to look ahead with a perfect poker face.

On the field, which admittedly could have been mowed before going there, the kids sat down, not caring that their clothes got dirty as Alexia stood in front of them, a book in her hands

“Hello everyone! I’m Alexia, and your teacher Miss Putellas, is my little sister! I am here today to teach you guys a little about football, my favorite sport of all time. Does anyone else like football here?” Seeing little girls jump up, with arms in the air shouting “Me! Me!” warmed the blonde's heart. 

How far the women’s game has come.

The next hour was filled with kids laughing as Alexia pushed them back and forth while explaining set pieces and general rules of the game, while you sat to the side, giving her a ball if she needed one.

An unexpected arm makes its way around your shoulders before a warm breath hits your ear “How’s it going?”

It was Alba, who had now sat down next to you, a cheeky smile on her face, that didn’t look that far off from her sister’s smug one. “What are you doing here?”

“Well I couldn’t just leave you two love birds alone here, could I?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. And you weren’t staring at her ass.”

“You’re delusional.”

Hearing her sister's loud laugh made Alexia turn her head at an impressive speed, catching her pinching your cheek in teasing. Quickly she told the kids what to practice before jogging over to you and Alba. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, dear sister! This is my class as well if you haven’t forgotten?”

Of course, she hadn’t. Really. How could she ever forget about her sister?

“I thought you didn’t have the class today?”

Alba couldn’t help but laugh at her sister's annoyed face. Her plan had worked, she had officially crashed whatever this was. “I didn't. But I can’t miss out on seeing you in my workspace, can I?” Her sister grunted, annoyed that she couldn’t have the day to herself. And the kids of course.

The rest of the day was spent with Alexia teaching the kids, managing incredibly well for someone who doesn’t usually work with 22 kids under the age of 10. Meanwhile, Alba made good use of her time by teasing you left, right, and center, not missing a chance to make fun of your obvious attraction to her sister, while you tried to help the footballer with moving cones or explaining something again.

The kids were much quieter on the way back, Ale had tired them out quite well, but Ben still wouldn’t leave Alexia’s side.

“Miss Alexia?”

“Yes, Ben?”

“Evie said that people date before they get married. So are you and Miss y/n dating?”

And there it was again, that nagging heat in your cheeks as Alexia looked up from your student, into your eyes. “I don’t know Ben, let me ask your teacher.”

Alba was trying not to scream while walking a couple of paces in front of you, pushing kids back into line when they wandered off, many of them trying to get back to her sister as they were now very interested in the blond woman.

“Would you like to go out on a date with me?”

“I would love to go on a date with you Alexia.”

A squeal left young Ben’s mouth before he let go of your new date’s hand, sprinting back to his friends and grabbing Alba’s hand. 

“I did it, Miss Putellas! They’re gonna get married!”

[ghoulbrain]

The Cost of Flesh

18+ 4.9k the ghoul x f!reader. gif credit. dirty talk, vaginal fingering, clothed/naked, finger sucking, grinding on a cowboy boot, cooper's busted anatomy forces him to get creative, body worship, lightly established dynamic, surprisingly sentimental. a prompt from @tearueful that got wildly out of hand. thank you, friend! 🖤

When what starts off as a purely sexual arrangement with the Waste's most notorious bounty hunter–the ghoul–gradually grows into a living, breathing love, you're both forced to confront the inevitable humanity that comes with sharing your body with another.

There’s a living myth that walks the wastes, a figure known exclusively as the ghoul. He’s enigmatic, a force of nature that declares himself to the world with his every step. If you're unaware of sharing a room with him, it’s likely because he’s hunting you, in which case it’s not a matter of if he catches you, but when.

Naturally, it was the talk of the town when he made a regular haunt out of the saloon you worked in.

He watched you serve drinks all evening, his gaze a physical thing upon you. Normally you expected a degree of harassment from clientele, raiders and the like often rolling through, but it was as though everyone else sensed his attention on you as much as you did. You could tell from the tilted angle of the wide brim of his hat when he was listening to your conversations.

It was as eerie as it was intriguing. You couldn’t fathom a bounty on your head, so what did he want?

You would soon be ensnared by him, but not for a bounty. It was for pleasure. Your pleasure.

“Come upstairs with me,” He murmured in your ear, standing close behind you, a gloved knuckle rolling up your spine. “Y’ain’t gatta do nothin’. I won’t hurt’cha none. Just wanna hear a pretty bird sing.”

You shivered, caught unaware. You never even heard his approach, even though the din of the bar had quieted in the late evening.

“I’m not for sale,” you replied, testing the water. He was close enough that you felt him, but not so close you were pinned. You could move if you wanted to.

“I ain’t buyin’,” he gave back. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck. “But I’ll make it worth y’while.”

The gravel grit of his voice was nearly drowned out by the drumming of your own pulse in your ears. To this day, you don’t know what possessed you to agree, but you did. He took your hand in his, the leather of his glove soft with wear, and led you away from the bar. The next thing you knew, he was stripping you bare in one of the dark rooms above the bar.

The ceremony with which he undressed you had felt disconcertingly like meal prep. He tied your hands above your head, and your heart thundered with the understanding that there was nothing to stop him from devouring you alive where you lay sprawled out on the bed. 

By the time his gloved hands were dragging away your underwear, you felt dizzy with the heady mix of arousal and fear, an unquiet ache thrumming between your thighs. Your only meager assurance was that of all the legends you’d heard of the ghoul, seducing and eating barmaids wasn’t among them. 

And yet devour you he did. You were hooked from that very first wet, hot slide of his tongue against your clit. He spent hours with you that night, mapping your body with his tongue, your scars and blemishes serving as waypoints and constellations. He nipped and sucked until dark marks blossomed under his tongue, and he relished those spots more than any other.

He never took off more than his gloves, and he never let you touch him. He never fucked you. He brought you to climax with his mouth and his hands so many times you lost track of the number. All you could do was writhe and moan your pleasure. He didn’t stop until those moans turned to sobs, until you begged him to. After that, he cut your binds loose and left you a mess on the bed, aching and used. 

You laid there for a long time, thinking you would never see him again.

The ghoul returned not a week later. 

He wasn’t subtle about what he wanted from you, beckoning you from across the bar with a crook of two fingers. You felt your knees weaken with the memory of those same fingers in your mouth, your cunt, that hand pinning you by your throat to feel your cries against his palm. He stared at you from beneath the brim of his hat, cocked his head. You nodded, and his eyes flashed.

Hungry.

You didn’t learn his name until your third encounter. He whispered it in your ear.

“Now scream it for me, sweetheart.”

You did.

The two of you would meet several more times. He would stay a little longer after each session, and bit by bit, you would come to understand the man beyond the ghoul. He doesn’t talk about himself, and he doesn’t ask anything of your life in turn, but he reveals himself in pieces nonetheless. Beneath the ruthless pragmatism of his legendary persona, you find the manners of a shockingly tender gentleman lurking.

He’s always unhurried in disrobing you, devoted to the task at hand: taking you apart piece by piece. He treats each article of frayed clothing like a piece of paper that might tear if he pulls too hard. He makes the process of being undressed in and of itself feel like sex, every move intentionally sensual. 

For you, the experience ranges from thrilling to maddening depending on your mood that day. He never heeds you, always keen to take his time regardless of your impatience. He takes a particular kind of enjoyment in your body, the likes of which you’ve never known. You’re certain he knows it better than you do at this point, and yet he’s never laid himself bare to you. Never let you bring him the kind of pleasure he brings you.

He’s never kissed you.

“Please. I wanna touch you, too,” you tell breathlessly, knelt between his legs, naked as sin. His focus breaks, gaze snapping to yours. You lick your lips, relishing the rare feeling of catching him off guard. You slide your hands up his thighs, inching towards his groin. “Taste you. Make you twist. When’re you gonna let me, huh?”

He catches your wrists as quickly as a viper strikes, holding you still for a long, tense moment. You hold his gaze without any of the fear or reservation you’d felt that first day. 

Despite the warmth that’s grown between you in the time since that first night, you’re uncertain of what exactly the two of you are now. It would be romantic to think of this feeling in your chest as love. Certainly it is intimacy. Familiarity. What is love if not consistency? Perhaps it’s like masonry. Steel against stone, and the conscious choice to change something as immutable as solid rock.

For as long as he chooses to come back to you, to find his pleasure in you, is that not love? If it isn’t, it might just be the closest you’ve ever come to it.

Dumbstruck for a moment by the tenderness in your gaze, Cooper’s own drops to your hand, lifting it to his mouth. His grip is tight, but not painful. As he does with everything else, he takes his time answering.

“Won’t do much good, darlin’,” he says, folding your hands wrist over wrist. You perk up. He’s never given a proper explanation for why he seems to have no interest in your reciprocation. From his belt, he withdraws a length of rope and begins encircling your wrists. You allow it, the ritual a familiar one. “Plumbing’s long busted, but that don’t mean I don’t enjoy myself. Enjoy you.”

Like the final piece of a puzzle falling in place, understanding dawns. His initial use of you drops perfectly into context. It was like you were more an object to him than a person, a vessel for him to exact sensation upon. You understand now that that’s exactly what you were. Be it the radiation or the myriad of drugs he takes to keep the degeneration at bay, it’s likely just one more piece of him the Wasteland has stolen.

“Oh.”

“Disappointed?” He asks, fastening the rope with a sharp tug that shoots a hot throb between your thighs. If he’s apprehensive about your answer, he hides it well. If they still made movies, he’d make for a fine actor.

You pause, giving the question the thought it deserves. “Not exactly. Maybe a bit,” you say, struggling to articulate the feeling. “Kind of relieved, though. I didn’t know if you couldn’t, or just didn’t want to,” you admit, leaning into it when he brings his palm to the side of your face. Your lips part automatically for the brush of his thumb along them. “I just want to do more.”

Cooper’s gaze softens, the line of his mouth twitching in what almost looks like a smile before it’s tampered by a profound sense of sadness. However, it disappears as quickly as the smile that nearly was. His expression smooths back out into controlled focus.

“So do more,” he says in that molasses drawl, thick and sweet. It could be your imagination, but his voice sounds warmer than it did a moment ago. “Put on a show for me.” He widens the spread of your legs with the press of his boot to your inner thigh. “I got plenty ‘a things for you t’ride.”

He lifts the worn leather to the wet heat gathering between your thighs and you shudder, lashes fluttering. His boot sinks back to the ground and you follow it, grinding down against the leather with a soft sigh of pleasure. He hooks his fingers through the tether around your wrists and draws you forward by it, his knee pressing between your breasts, your bound hands resting on his thigh.

“Don’t take much t’get you moanin’, do it, sweetie?” He baits, mouth curved in a crooked smile. You roll your hips with a soft keen, shaking your head. You were already tingling all over from the slow way he’d undressed you, and now that ache is growing rapidly into thrumming need. He whistles lowly. “All that noise for a li’l friction.”

He bucks his boot against your cunt, wringing a cry out of you. You screw your eyes shut, clutching at his pant leg while you roll your hips, embarrassed by how right he is. Everything he does is electrifying, and his honied voice in your ears helps turn the curve of his boot into the most exquisite touch you’ve ever known.

With his teeth, Cooper tugs off his glove and touches your cheek with warm, rough fingers. His bare thumb hooks your bottom lip, easing it open until you taste the salt of his skin pressing down on your tongue. “Or just didn’t want to…” He echoes through a frayed laugh, sounding equal parts amused and wistful at your words on his tongue. “Y’got no idea what I’d do to this sweet mouth if I could.” He presses his thumb deeper, watching with dark eyes as you start to suck. “What I’d give t’see how pretty you cry, chokin’ on my cock.”

He paints such a pretty picture that you long for it, too. Releasing his thumb with a breathy sound, you open your mouth. “More,” you say, your breaths shallow. “I want more.”

His own chest is heaving with each breath, his tongue caught between his teeth. He slips two fingers into your mouth, pushing them all the way to the knuckle. You both moan with it, pressure creeping slowly up your spine. He rocks his fingers in and out, and you start to match his pace, grinding against his boot as fast as his fingers fuck your mouth. 

Catching on, he kicks his pace up a notch, captivated by the pull of your lips, the shimmer of your saliva on his weathered skin. You can see it in his eyes, how he loses himself in your pleasure as if it’s his own, filling in the gaps with faded memories. He pushes in a third finger, teeth raking over his bottom lip. You push your tongue between them, over them, sucking and lapping as if it really is his cock in your mouth. 

“Fuck, darlin’,” he hisses, pulling sharply on your bindings. You make a noise around his fingers, so close to the peak of release that your lungs begin to seize, throat quieting. It’s pure agony when Cooper abruptly hauls you up onto your knees, halting your ascension. “C’mere,” he growls, all grit and throaty need. His fingers slip from your mouth and he manhandles you up into his lap, bringing you into a straddle over him, your bound wrists thrown over the back of his neck.

The same fingers he had halfway down your throat now move between your thighs, pressing into your slick, yielding body with two wet fingers in one deep push. You groan, the burning ache of it so good your eyes roll back. His free hand skirts up the length of your torso to the underside of your breast, kneading soft flesh with a rough hand. Then, so quick all you can do is gasp, he pushes the weight of it upward, meeting pearl-soft skin with lips, tongue and teeth.

All the while his fingers sink deeper, moving faster. He adds a third and you strain against your binds, arching your back, pressing your chest into his hungry mouth. He scissors his fingers, determined to make you feel every inch he fills you with.

“C-Cooper…” You keen, shivering for the hot slide of his tongue over your nipple, how he sucks it into his mouth.

Pulling off with a wet pop, he drags his tongue up the line between your breasts, greedy for the taste of you. “Shh, shh,” he hushes, already teasing a fourth finger. His breath is hot on your damp skin. “Just a little more, you can take it,” he says, pressing his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles to soothe the burn of being filled so suddenly.

“I can’t, I can’t,” you protest, nails biting into your own hands, eyes screwed shut.

“Y’already there, sugar,” he rumbles, each word rougher than the last. He’s right, you’re seated in the crook between his thumb and index finger, so full of him that your thighs are trembling from the strain of it. He rocks his hand slowly, fucking you deep, crooking his fingers until a sharp jolt of pleasure makes you shudder. “Doin’ good, takin’ everything I give you. That’s it. Go on, pretty bird. Sing me a song.”

Your eyes meet, both bleary and wild. You could lose yourself in the darkness of his gaze, and given his insatiable hunger, you know he would swallow you whole. You moan for him, sing his praise with the breathlessness of your voice, with the sway of your hips as you pick up his rhythm. He nods absently, watching you with such voracious wonder, you feel beyond yourself. Half human, half embodiment of pleasure. 

The meteoric rise back to the cusp of your climax feels like flying, your stomach tightening, the velvet walls of your cunt throbbing and squeezing his fingers so tightly, you feel their every slide.

You come hard on his fingers, crying out just before the height of your pleasure seizes you. Cooper watches every second of your release, his own lids flickering, though he never blinks. He slips his arm around your body and pulls you to him, naked skin pressed snug against leather and tattered fabric. You collapse into him, held up only by his grip and the tether binding your hands around his neck.

He holds you through the aftermath, savors every last wet quiver of your cunt around his fingers. His thrusts slow, but he doesn’t stop until–in a quaking breath–you beg him to. His fingers settle in deep, lingering a moment before he slides them free. The relief of escape from overstimulation is rivaled only by the awful emptiness that his fingers leave in you. You clench your shaking thighs on either side of him so that he might understand.

Stay.

Either he understands, or he simply isn’t through with you. His gloved hand slides up and down your back, thumb brushing the back of your neck on every upward swipe. Before long you hear a decidedly wet slurp, and you lift your head from his shoulder to look at him through euphoria addled eyes.

One by one, Cooper licks every one of his slick fingers clean, purring his approval. “Not even decades of radiation poisoning can erase the taste of good pussy,” he says, voice low and lazy. “And this, darlin'? Gourmet."

You smile, heat rushing up your chest to your cheeks. “I think you have an addiction,” you say, a slight slur to your words. You roll your fingers, which tingle faintly, the rope taking its toll on your circulation.

He clicks his tongue, hands settling on your hips. His hands are warm, and his touch erupts goosebumps up your spine. “Y’say that like it’s a problem. Gonna cut me off?”

“As your dealer, it’s in my best interest to encourage said addiction,” you say, cocking your head. Up close like this, focused only on each other’s eyes, it’s easy to forget he’s anything other than a man. His eyes are beautiful, the color of sand in that fleeting hour of sunset that turns the whole world gold. Not even the hole left from the decay of his nose takes away from the beauty of them. Truth be told, you find the whole of him entirely too handsome. “Besides, I find myself similarly afflicted.”

His lips split into a slow smile. “Y’somethin’ rare, darlin’. Fine company’s scarcer than clean water these days.”

Another wave of heat washes through you, but this time it concentrates in your chest, coiling around your heart and squeezing. “You’re just not used to talking to people who know how to read,” you say, trying and failing to swallow back the sentimentality swelling in your throat.

He chuckles. It’s a rare sound, one that does nothing for the growing affection suffocating your heart. “True, true.” He already admitted that the way you spoke is what caught his attention in the first place.

“Say…” You begin, hesitant. “You remember what I said to you when we first met? Down in the bar.”

Gently, Cooper lifts your arms from around his neck, setting your hands between your bodies. He blows out a breath and starts untying your hands. “I’m old, sweetness. Refresh my memory.” 

"I told you I wasn't for sale," you remind him, blood rushing back into your hands with the removal of the rope. You rub them together.

He makes a small noise of recollection, winding the rope around his hand. “Y’did.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” you say, watching him carefully.

His gaze flickers up to yours, searches your expression. He can tell you’re guarding it, and his own sobers in response. “Dare I ask the cost?”

"Love,” you blurt out, far more graceless than you’d been in your mind. His eyes widen a fraction, caught off guard. In any other moment you’d be smug about that, but now it’s precarious. Whatever nebulous sentiment exists between the two of you, you know it’s fragile. “Love. Yours, or just… mine. The cost is love.”

“Y’don’t love me, sweetheart,” he says, but the gentleness of his words does nothing to dissuade you. It only worsens the yearning in your heart.

“You don’t get to decide that,” you say, a frown tugging at your lips. 

He’s quiet for a moment, gauging you. “Y’don’t know me.”

“You let on more than you think you do,” you counter, hands braced on his chest. “I might not know everything about your life, but I know you.”

You know he read westerns and science fiction novels written by a man named Louis L’Amour, but confessed to liking his poetry best. You know the variations in his smiles. You know the sound he makes when he gets up from sleep, stiff-limbed and weary. You know him in intimacy. You know how he craves  peace and grace in the warmth of your body. If blinded and deafened, you would know his touch.

Whether he likes it or not, you know him the way souls know each other.

His eyes drift away as if he’s leery about you seeing anything more than you have. “What you’re lookin’ for, y’not gonna get it from me. I’m burnt out, darlin’. All dried up.”

“I’m not asking for more than you’ve given,” you say, trying not to let the terrible ache in your chest color your tone. You could scream at him for how wrong he is. How much left of him there is to love. “I’m telling you that I have more to give, and I want you to have it.”

“I wouldn’t even know what t’do with it anymore,” he says, gazing somewhere distant.

You wish he’d at least look at you as you bled your heart. “Nothing you haven’t already done, if that’s what you want.”

“Then why say anything at all?” He asks, an edge creeping into his tone. He does finally look at you, the lines of his expression as guarded as they were the first day you met him. “If y’didn’t want t’change things, why say anything?”

You stiffen to keep from shrinking away. You want this too badly to let him spook you now. 

“So that you know,” you say, choosing your words carefully. Each one feels sharp on your tongue, too honest. Too vulnerable. You’re giving him too much power with each one that falls. “I’m telling you so that you know I love you. I’m telling you because if I don’t, I might explode with it,” you say, fervency climbing in your voice, spurred on by the beginning sting of rejection. “I’m telling you for me. Is it easier to accept my love if it’s selfish?”

There it is again, that flicker across his face. Whatever he expected to hear, it wasn’t that. Slowly, Cooper removes his other glove, dropping it to the wayside. With that same hand, he brings his knuckles to your face, ghosts the heat of them down your cheek.

“Y’deserve better than half measures from a broken old man,” he says so quietly, you strain to hear each word. “Most of me’s always gonna be out in the sands, lookin’ for what’s lost. That’s no life for you.”

Taking his hand in yours, you hesitate a beat before you start to place gentle kisses on his every first knuckle. “Maybe. Maybe not,” you say between kisses, not meeting his eye yet. You’ve never been quite so openly affectionate. “But it’s like you said… Fine company is scarce,” you say, kissing each second knuckle next. “Don’t deny me the best I’ve ever known.”

His smile is reticent, tugged from the corner of his mouth as if by an invisible string. There’s something wistful in his expression. He watches you kiss the pads of his fingers next, the prints of them long worn away and replaced with thick calluses. His thumb is last. You give it a playful little nip, lest the softness of your lips scare him off.

Cooper slips his hand out of yours, the wistfulness of his gaze replaced with somber resignation. “M’sorry, darlin,” he murmurs, cupping either side of your face. 

Your stomach drops, the bitter stench of a goodbye settling into the air between you. You remind yourself that you knew this might happen. You repeat the thought again and again, as if being right will make it hurt less.

His thumbs stroke over your cheeks. “If I were a better man, a stronger man,” he says, gaze dipping to your lips. “I’d walk away for good.”

Your brows furrow. “Wh–”

He kisses you with such gentleness it breaks you apart. Your hands fly to his jacket, holding him to you. It’s as if the entire world spins on its axis, your stomach flipping wildly with it. It leaves you floating, tethered only by the grips you have on each other. What begins as a chaste press quickly heats up into a gnawing hunger, his tongue slipping into your mouth, your teeth scraping his bottom lip.

“Lucky for me that I ain’t even a good man,” he says, words peppered between kisses. 

The world spins again, but this time you really are moving through the air. You let out a yelp as Cooper flips you onto the bed, kissing a trail down your naked chest. You’ve felt his tongue and his teeth, but never the reverent press of his lips. As if you’ve only just given him permission to see you as something more than a tool for vicarious pleasure, he touches your body the way a superstitious man worships–full of intent and genuine belief.

“Cooper,” you sigh, smiling. “It’s my turn to touch you,” you remind him, tugging at the shoulder of his tattered jacket. The most he’s ever taken off is that jacket and his hat, but you want more.

He looks up at you from between your breasts, hesitating a beat. “You should know that it only gets uglier ‘neath the collar, sugar.”

“You’re not ugly,” you tell him. At his skeptical expression, you continue, “I’ve seen ugly. Heard it, felt it. You’re not ugly. Not to me.”

He quirks a hairless brow and lets out an incredulous little breath, adjusting himself onto his knees between your legs, swayed. “Y’might consider glasses,” he tells you, shrugging out of his coat. 

You hook your legs over his and use them as leverage to sit up, reaching for the buttons of his vest. “That might not end well for you,” you say coyly, popping each one loose. 

“I’m used to it,” he says, leaning down for another kiss. This, too, is reverence. He takes his time, savoring the feel of your lips against his, licking the taste of you from them like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever known. With his vest open, you work on his undershirt next, tugging them loose while sucking on his tongue.

Halfway down, he stills your hand with a firm grip on your wrist. “That’ll do,” he tells you, voice little more than a rasp. You bite back a protest and nod, understanding that this is likely more exposed than he’s been in a long, long time. You push back into the kiss and press your hand to his chest, sliding slowly down. 

The skin beneath is as gnarled as old tree bark, pitted in places and scarred in most. For as durable as ghouls are, Cooper’s skin has been shredded and torn and riddled with bullets enough times that parts of his body have taken hold of those memories forever, formed around them.

You treat them gently, tracing them with your fingertips. You feel unreasonably powerful when he shivers subtly beneath your touch. You press your hand flat to his heart to hold the beat of it in your palm. It’s slow, but each thud is strong. You break from him with a deep breath, dizzy from the way he makes your head spin with each kiss.

“Lie down,” you say breathlessly. You’re almost surprised when he does, unaccustomed to taking so much control. You cozy up against him, laying your head where your hand had been a moment ago, and close your eyes. His heartbeat sounds just as it felt. Steady, firm, slow. You imagine the radiation has scarred him inside and out, left his heart thick and misshapen as well. Alive nonetheless.

After a brief hesitation, Cooper’s arm slips around your waist. His thumb caresses your hip. “For what it’s worth,” he begins, his tone overly conversational, masking whatever true feeling lurks beneath. “I won’t hold you to none of it. Not if y’get sick of it.”

If you get sick of him, he means.

You tip your head back to look up at him. His gaze is affixed to the ceiling, but you can see apprehension in his distant expression. You drop your eyes, nuzzling your cheek against his chest. His hand cups the back of your head in response, stroking. You smile faintly, soaking in all these little affections. You wonder how long he’s been holding back from touching you like this, denying himself such simple intimacies in order to maintain a distance he didn’t feel, but deemed necessary.

“You’re wrong, Cooper.”

“‘Bout what?”

“You are a good man.”

He goes quiet at that. The two of you lie there a long while, his hands absently roaming your body like he’s committing you to memory. Your hands do the same, dipping under the hem of his shirt to explore further. He hooks his knuckle under your chin, tips your head back to kiss you languidly.

There’s a surreal domestic feel to the unhurriedness of it all, as if he won’t be gone to the winds come morning. You make a home of this moment in your mind, constructing four walls in which to imagine another life. The kind you’ve read about in tattered books and seen on fuzzy old screens.

All the while Cooper holds you, his lips never long from your skin.

You eventually find your way under the covers together, past the point of words. You drape yourself back down against him, your ear finding the chamber of his heart once more. You fall asleep listening to the beat of it, content for now to take each day you spend with him as they come.

[pinkyqil]

can you write something for lia walti x leah williamson x reader?

Yours truly

lia x leah x r

Summary : you surprise your girlfriends at there game after being on tour for months inspired by this

Author's note : thank you so much to the both anons who sent me this fic idea especially to the other anon who helped me figure out what to do with it I hope you all enjoy the fic and it reaches your expectations 💗.

© PINKYQIL

Your girlfriends were footballers while you were artist who always found herself in the studio or on tour.

A lot of people tell you it won't work out because of your distances and work load and all but you guys do make it work which was all that mattered.

You had recently got off tour after the making of your third full album and a world tour.

you had told your manager that you would be staying in London for the mean time before needing to get back in the studio after your hiatus.

Your girlfriends don't know about it any of your plans yet as you wanted to surprise them.

Arriving at your shared penthouse which often wasn't used as you weren't always there but things are about to change.

You had texted Beth to let her know about your plans as she was really close to leah and that's how you connected.You needed someone to show you around this familiar city even though you've came to london for tour you never really had the chance to explore it.

So Beth had offered to show your around before their home game against chelsea today. you we're having a lot of fun with Beth as she explained the rivalry between arsenal and Chelsea too you.

It wasn't that you didn't have that much of a football knowledge in fact you did having to grown up in a household full of man and women obsessed.

with the game and took it all seriously especially growing up with brother's who played too.You just weren't fawn of it but for your girls everything mattered.

Beth had drop you back home so that you could change into something more comfortable for the match you decided on one of Leah's sweater that you found and a black pair of high waisted pants that belong to lia.

Arriving at the emirates stadium you first bought yourself an arsenal scaf so you wouldn't get recognized by both leah and lia in the family and friends section and enjoy the game from nosy fans.

Lia and Leah knew something was up with you when you three were on call you kept rushing the call and looking super stressed about something which they planned to call you again after today's game to find out what was happening with you.

Least to say you where able to surprise your girls after they won a 3-1 to chelsea. Once the bell whistle rang Beth immediately came your way helping cross over to get out of the friends and family section. It had the whole team confused plus her girlfriend and yours.

to say the confusion left there faces as soon as they saw you walking towards the pitch.

Leah had grabbed lia's hands so that they could run towards you. saying that you got tacked by your lovers with hugs would be an understatement.

"I can't believe that your here". Lia said helping you get up.

"Well surprise". You told them both

"That why you we're acting all weird on the phone the other day". leah told you.

"No I wasn't".

"Baby you definitely where". she said

"Whatever". you rolled your eyes at her

"Oh come on you guys". beth intervened

"Yeah you two". Lia added in before you all busted out laughing. You honestly missed the dynamic between the three of you and it was obvious they did to.

Yourusername&2other

all day everyday day with my girls 💏 liked by bethmead katie_mccabeand and 988,506

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[pepperonidk]

into the night || k.mg

Pairing: mingyu x gn!reader Summary: and along came your knight in gray sweats. aka in which you and mingyu take baby steps into something new Warnings: mentions of alcohol, reader wears makeup Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: inspired by true events, aka last weekend when i walked home alone through hongdae drunk off my ass and took photo booth pictures. whole time i was wishing for a mingyu

main masterlist || taglist

when mingyu walked into a convenience store in the backstreets of hongdae after fighting his way past various promoters vying for his attention, he felt his heart settle at the sight of you. sat at a table by the window, your head was settled on your arms and a half empty vitamin drink and an empty water bottle sat in front of you. the small crumbs of seaweed in your vicinity assured him that you at least took his advice and had a snack.

he pulled out his phone to take a quick picture, something to tease you about later, before finally walking to your resting figure. he squatted down as he gently shook you awake, a grin spreading across his face when he finally got to see your eyes mirroring his. it took you a second to process what was happening, and mingyu tried to suppress a chuckle as recognition finally spread through your features.

“mingyu,” you exclaimed with a giddy smile. now that you had lifted your head a bit, he could see the pink hue of your cheeks, an effect from your drinking. “you came to get me.” you reached out with your hand, sloppily pressing it against his cheek as if to check if he was real.

he gently pulled your hand away and held it in his, sighing in relief when you didn’t pull it away. “always,” he breathed out. his heart raced once again.

if he was honest (and a little drunk), he probably would’ve told you right then that he was in love with you; that he’d always be at your beck and call even on a crowded saturday in his least favorite part of seoul. but even if he knew you wouldn’t remember it in the morning, he kept his feelings to himself. instead, he rubbed small circles on your hand.

“you smell like pizza,” you remarked with your eyes half lidded and words slurred.

“I was making a late night snack,” he chuckled. that part was true, but he left out that he couldn’t sleep because he kept anxiously waiting for you to text him that you were home safe or, even better, for him to come get you. when you finally did, he pulled out his pizza from the oven, slipped on his favorite pair of sweatpants, grabbed an extra hoodie for you and miraculously caught the bus as it pulled at the stop.

“but the night is so young,” you frowned at him.

“it’s literally 3 in the morning,” mingyu corrected you.

“oh my god, the bus,” you suddenly panicked and shot up, drawing attention from the cashier who sat on her phone at the counter, before mingyu stopped you and shushed you.

“we can walk to my place, okay?” he reached out to slowly help you stand up. he reached for the vitamin drink and handed it to you, encouraging you to finish it. “don’t want you fighting off a headache tomorrow.”

you nodded and downed the rest of it, grimacing at the taste of medicine it left behind. mingyu offered you the hoodie and cleaned up your trash as you pulled it on. “it smells like you,” you smiled at him as you brought the sleeve to your face.

“like 3 am pizza?” mingyu chuckled. he offered his elbow out to you to grab for stability as you wobbled towards the exit.

“no,” you shook your head with a smile. “it smells like happiness.”

mingyu chewed his lip, the urge to tell you that you were his happiness coming up stronger than ever. sometimes he wondered if you said things like that just to play with his heart. he bit back his words and helped you step down onto the loud and crowded street.

he pulled you along as he fought his way through the crowds and away from the club street of hongdae. he finally felt himself relax when he heard a street busker singing a cover of an ed sheeran song drown out the pumping bass of the bars and clubs behind you. he looked towards you when you pulled at his sleeve, pulling him to stand with you so you could watch the busker sing.

mingyu could hear you mutter the lyrics under your breath, the timing slurred with alcohol, but the tone of your voice clear and melodious in his heart. before he could think too hard, he moved your hand that was in his elbow to his shoulder and took your other hand in his. he began to dance around with you to the soft music, taking care not to move too fast.

you smiled at him, and for a second, your eyes looked clearer than they had been, as if the haze of alcohol slipped away long enough to reveal something to you. “mingyu…” you breathed out his name with a tone he couldn’t quite place. you opened your mouth to continue, but the song ended and the sound of applause drew you back into the haze.

mingyu pressed a hand against his heart. before leading you away again. however this time, you slipped your hand into his, rather than the crook of his arm. he knew you were looking at him but he hoped you couldn’t see the way he was blushing at the way your fingers intertwined with his.

“did your friends make it home?” he asked, still looking ahead. you had finally made it to the bright led clock that made him laugh every time he passed it. you had asked him once what the clock was counting down to, not realizing that the numbers were going up. mingyu never let it go. but the clock meant that you were halfway to his place already and he decided to slow down, to give you time to sober up in the cool breeze (and to hold your hand).

“yeah,” you replied. “they texted me a little bit before you got to me.” your words were a little less slurred now, more intentional, and mingyu takes it as a good sign.

“were you waiting long?” he asked. maybe he should’ve just left the pizza to burn after all…

you shook your head no before replying. “i waited for a bit before texting you,” you answered.

mingyu looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “why? i could’ve gotten here sooner.”

“i wanted to sober up a bit before you found me,” you shrugged. the lilt of your sentence suggested you had something more to say but chose not to. mingyu chose not to pry. not yet, anyway, and simply nodded.

“you wanna do a photo booth?” mingyu suggested, tilting his head towards one that was relatively empty. you grinned at him and allowed him to lead you in. you picked accessories for each other, mingyu gently placed a fish bread hat on your head and you reached to put a chicken headband on his.

inside the booth, you and mingyu quickly ran through a few of your go-to favorites. a peace sign, a heart made with your hands together, the usual. around the fifth shot, mingyu quickly prompted you to get on his back and you barely made it with a laugh before the timer went off. the next frame, you put bunny ears on his head, but the next… you bent down to kiss his cheek. the last frame was just mingyu staring at you with the dopiest smile.

after selecting four shots, two normal ones, and the last two, your stolen kiss and mingyu’s dopey smile, mingyu turned to look at you as the photos printed out.

your eyes were twinkling under the fluorescents of the room. “you kissed me,” mingyu stated, still looking at you with wide eyes.

“i did,” you replied nonchalantly. “on the cheek.”

“why?” mingyu asked.

“because i want to be sober when i kiss you on the lips,” you stated matter-of-factly.

“I-“ mingyu didn’t know how to respond. you smiled at him gently before reaching past him to grab the two printed copies. usually, he’d have some witty remark, some covert flirtation, but you managed to render him speechless.

when you finally left the studio, you reached once again for mingyu’s hand. he could tell from the way you began to walk a little straighter that you were definitely sobered up enough to remember tonight’s events tomorrow. mingyu chewed on his lip once again. you’d remember kissing him, and now you’d remember reaching for his hand too.

the rest of the walk back to mingyu’s was much quieter now that you were at the end of the main road. the sound of bass and buskers alike now a distant echo. all that was left were the faint glows of neon signs, a slight breeze, and you and mingyu, two friends who’d taken a step into new territory.

inside mingyu’s house, the smell of pizza was strong and he kicked himself for not opting to light a candle or open a window. “sorry for the pizza smell,” he began to apologize before you cut him off with a laugh.

“can i have a slice?” you simply asked. mingyu nodded before grabbing a plate and handing you a slice. it wasn’t warm anymore, but you didn’t mind. mingyu disappeared into his room to pull out a set of his pajamas that you liked to wear at his place and grabbed a few face wipes to clean your face with. he sat down beside you and in between bites, pressed the wipes against your face, and smiled at how your eyes fluttered shut at the cooling sensation.

he took his time and was gentle with you, making sure to remove any traces of oil or makeup on your face, taking care around your nose where you had always hated having breakouts. this wasn’t the first time he’d had to clean your face after a night out, but he really didn’t mind if it meant you woke up with one less thing to worry about.

once you finished your pizza, he handed you the pajamas and led you to the bathroom to change. meanwhile, he opened his linen closet to find an extra blanket for him to use on the couch. it was right when he pulled out his favorite one that you stepped out and mingyu blushed at the sight of you in his clothes. it was a sight he could get used to.

“whatcha doing?” you asked.

“i’ll take the couch tonight,” he explained. he wanted to sleep beside you, but he can feel in the air that something had changed. you knew it too.

“i—“ you began before mingyu cut you off, not giving you the chance to argue with him.

“tomorrow,” he started, reaching for your hand. “tomorrow you can ask me to stay with you, and i will and i will any night after that. but tonight, i’ll take the couch.”

he hoped you could read the promise and the plea in his voice. he knew you’d remember tonight, but he also wanted you to be sure that he was what you wanted. he’d waited years to tell you how he felt, and he could wait one more night.

“good night then, gyu.” you smiled at him softly.

“sweet dreams,” he replied and left you with one last kiss against your temple.

taglist: @yksthings @alonelystarfish @celestialchans @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @jespecially @iamawkwardandshy

[lurkingshan]

10 Things I Love About Triage

I am extraordinarily late to this party but I am here to scream about Triage, a show which I started on a whim after a stray comment from @incandescentflower and subsequently finished in two sittings. This drama has been on my list forever (I didn't watch it live because the distribution was wacky) and then it just kept getting overlooked as I fought to keep up with the deluge of Thai BL coming at us at all times. But I am very glad I finally hunted it down and made the time and I would like to tell you why!

Hello Again, Dr. Sammon

I am on record as a Sammon fan. She is one of the best writers working in Thai BL and she has a knack for mystery and suspense. Her narratives are always really well constructed with tight plotting and smart character work, and Triage is no exception. This story feels confident, steady, and complete in a way few Thai BLs do.

The time travel rules are blessedly consistent

Part of what makes the story sing is it's a time travel plot that actually gets the particulars right. In a time loop, the details are everything, and this show understands that. The series of events are consistent, the rules of the time travel mechanics are clearly explained, and when our protagonists learn something new, it always lines up with something we'd gotten hints about before or gives us new context for old information. There are no loose threads in this show.

My boy Tin is going through it

Tin is a fantastic protagonist. He starts the show disillusioned with his work and hilariously grumpy about this time loop situation--he is a busy ER doctor and he does not have time for this--but as he starts to piece together how the loop works he gets more methodical in his approach, and eventually becomes emotionally invested in his mission to save Tol. Tin felt really well-calibrated in that he was smart and he tried all the things you would be shouting at the screen for him to try, but he's still a human being with flaws and insecurities and so he makes mistakes, learns, and has to try again. The show really successfully put us in the frustration with him.

Tol makes for an interesting damsel

Because he's kind of an asshole! Tol is rude and disrespectful when he first meets Tin, he hangs around with some truly awful bullies, he treats Rit like garbage, and he's all around an arrogant dick. Until he isn't. I like the choice to make the focus of our mission such a difficult character, not only because it makes Tin's challenge that much harder, but also because it invites us to consider the reasons why someone might be behaving the way he is and whether they can be redeemed.

This show has everything: action, romance, and agony

It's truly an emotional rollercoaster all the way through, and you can't relax for a moment. The pacing is relentless through most of the show, and even as a bond develops between Tin and Tol and they begin a tentative romance, danger is lurking around every corner. As soon as these boys started making out in episode 9 I knew something awful was coming for me and IT SURE DID.

Jinta, the ultimate frenemy

On that note let's talk about Jinta, my nemesis!! Jinta is some kind of unspecified deity/whimsical god and the one who appears to be responsible for putting Tin and Tol in this loop. Is he trying to help them? Is he trying to torture them? I definitely think it's both! He seems to delight in showing up to taunt Tin as he struggles to figure out how to get through to Tol, and when it's Tol's turn on the merry-go-round he sends him to the darkest timeline for his high stakes final attempt to save Tin just because he can. I love/hate you, sir!

Sing and Gap and the darkest timeline

Speaking of which, can we talk about how appropriate it is that Sing and Gap are a couple only in the darkest timeline? I don't know if people were shipping this for real during the live watch, but I definitely was not and so I started cackling when we got to the worst possible timeline and Sing was suddenly calling Gap his boyfriend. Sammon, you are hilarious and I salute you.

Fantastic side characters

Let's talk about the sides I did love. First of all, aside from his weird aggressive flirting/not flirting thing with Gap, I actually did like Sing's friendship with Tin a lot. I also loved the hospital gang who were around to alternately tease and help Tin, most especially Toy and Fang. Toy is a sweetheart and a gossip who never misses a trick, and Fang is an actual badass who first cracked the case with that evil doctor and saved Tin's life. They are fabulous. Rit was also an excellent character with a lot of complexity and he added some much needed depth to the school storyline (does anyone else think he was basically the proto-DFF Non?). And while Mai and Heart were not my favorite people, I did appreciate that the show gave them a sympathetic portrayal instead of making them evil villains (we had the organ harvesters for that).

That beautiful clocktower

I must give a shoutout to this gorgeous clocktower featured in several important scenes. I got so excited every time it showed up. Fun fact: in the first clocktower scene I was like oh hey I recognize that from gifs, but it can't be that scene because it's too early for a kis--TIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING! (I was right, it was too early for a kiss and Tol was Big Mad but bless you for going for it anyway, Tin).

The romance is balanced and rootable

And on that note, let me give a shoutout to the romance part of this story for actually feeling balanced. This is not an epic swoony love affair, but more a story of two people putting in the time to understand and empathize with each other. Sometimes in these kind of time loop stories the romance can end up feeling very one-sided because one character is holding all the knowledge and all the cards. But in this show we have the neat trick of Tol taking over the loop to try to save Tin in the final arc, which means he got to go through a similar process of getting to know the darkest version of his lover and figuring out how to get through to him. I was delighted by all the events of the long loop playing out again, but this time with Tin being the obstinate one. Tol got a taste of his own medicine and it left me feeling like they were both equally invested in this relationship.

TL;DR: If you haven't watched this yet, you really should! It's a fast binge and a great time with some Thai BL favorites. It's unfortunately still not available for international streaming, but it's very easy to find grey now and it's worth the effort. Go forth!

[paradiseprincesss]

need a jonathan story where reader is bruce wayne's sister with similar morals about fixing gotham so she's a psychiatrist at arkham. her and jonathan butt heads a lot as she doesn't like how inhuman he is to his patients (he has a secret obsession with her). however she starts getting in the way of his plans and que the "this is where we make the medicine" scene. batman comes to save her and even though jonathan is high on fear he hears batman call reader his sister, so he plans to kidnap and/or blackmail the reader. Can be pure dark or dark with a change of heart?

love your work, but you already know that xoxo

all your fears are interwoven - jonathan crane x reader

materlist

notes: this is dark which i dont usually write so please...bare with me okay? IM SORRY IF THIS ISN'T GREAT LMFAO !! trying to write dark for u pookie <333

summary: you're a psychiatrist in the first year of your residency at arkham, working alongside doctor jonathan crane himself. however, you two are constantly butting heads due to your different beliefs in the treatment of your patients, amongst other things. one day, jonathan finds out that your the little sister of the batman himself - and he decides to act out on every sinister thought he's ever had about you.

word count: 3k

warnings: [NON-CON], 18+ mdni, smut, dark as hell, p in v, forced breeding, kidnapping, stalking, obsession, literally just all around terrible, terrible things

"it's inhumane," you argued, "no wonder your patients are terrified of you."

"because i don't feed into their delusions and paranoia?" jonathan scoffed, "i keep them medicated because they're mentally ill. if you haven't noticed, were in an asylum for the criminally insane."

"see, that the problem when it comes to you! you're not treating them like people, but rather prisoners." you sneer, rolling your eyes at his distasteful way of speaking about his patients.

for a moment, he's silent. he doesn't say a word, but you can tell you've hit a nerve with the way he physically reacts. his jaw is clenched, his eyes narrow at you, and he takes a short but sharp breath through his nose to try and appear composed.

"i have something i'd like you to see," he says calmly, "i think it'll help you understand my 'unorthodox' methods, as you like to call it."

you were a new grad from gotham university, specifically from their medical department. you'd graduated top of your class in medical school, and you'd matched in psychiatry for your residency. hence why you were working alongside doctor jonathan crane - the renown psychiatrist of gotham city himself.

when you first met him, he was cold towards you - and nothing changed. even a year into your residency, he was still cruel towards you. actually, that's a lie because he seemed to hate you even more than he did before. you two butted heads constantly over anything and everything under the sun. you thought he was heartless, but he thought you were too cynical. you believed his methods were 'unorthodox' as you liked to say, but he thought your methods were mind-numbingly boring. you two clashed in every possible way.

nobody liked working with him. you knew that already, though. it didn't take long for you to figure out why after you first started, as for starters, none of his employees hid their distaste towards him, and he didn't hide how much he disliked them back. he often called the other nurses, doctors, or medical professionals working there an array of insulting things, including but not limited to: imbecile, idiot, braindead, and painfully stupid. that was actually a few of the nicer things he called people - we don't talk about what he's called you.

you contemplated switching over to a different speciality because of jonathan crane many times, as working with him was exhausting. you still had three years of your residency and training left! how were you supposed to stand three more years with him? your brother, bruce wayne, always listened to you vent about jonathan - he didn't like him either. he always said that man was up to something, and he didn't know what but that it was bad news.

"are you incapable of forming a proper response, doctor wayne?" jonathan sneered, bringing you out of your thoughts, "you really are dense. the fucking lights are on but clearly no one's home."

"what are you, twelve?" you bark back, "i don't fucking-"

"i'm working on a new psychopharmacological drug," he cuts you off with a smirk, "i know, you're too stupid to understand anything about medication-"

"i went to the same medical school you did, jonathan." you retaliate, but he pays no mind to your words.

"like i said, i know you're too dumb to understand such complex specialities such as internal medicine and psychopharmacology, but i think it's something you'd benefit from learning about." he explained flatly.

as much as you wanted to punch him in his face, he had a point. you weren't dumb by any accounts, you were probably just as smart, if not smarter than him. however, as a training physician in her residency, it wouldn't be such a bad idea to get some hands on training in prescribing and dosages for mentally ill patients. it would help you in your career, to be fair.

"...fine," you huff, "tell me about it."

"this way, please." he says, ushering you to follow him into the elevator.

with annoyance, you follow him silently, not wanting to talk to him or give him any form of a verbal response at all. jonathan looked at you with a hunger in his eyes; unbeknownst to you, the brilliant but sociopathic psychiatrist had a deep, twisted, and disturbing obsession with you. he had your pictures plastered on the walls of his house. he knew where you lived as he'd broken in a few times unnoticed, and he knew pretty much everything about you - down to the smallest details.

for someone as brilliant as him, he had yet to figure out you were bruce wayne's sister, though. he knew your last name was wayne, but he didn't really put two and two together because he didn't expect you to be the sister of bruce wayne himself.

once you two reached the basement of the asylum, he led you through a series of dark, eerie hallways and you made note to shoot your brother a text about how crane was being extra strange and creepy at work today. in an attempt to slip away from jonathan, you clear your throat and try to come up with a feasible excuse.

"um, doctor crane," you say to him, your tone starting to become shaky, "i-i'm not feeling too well, i think i'm going to go back to my office to grab some advil."

the trembling of your voice doesn't go unnoticed by jonathan, and he knew that you knew where this was going. he grabs your arm harshly, and drags you through a door in which you're met with a distressing sight - multiple inmates of arkham mixing up chemicals in a makeshift lab, and pouring the liquids into what appeared to be a sewerage of some sort that seemed to leak into gotham city's plumbing and piping.

as your eyes were fixated on the scene in front of you, you failed to notice jonathan putting on his scarecrow mask and when you did - it was too late. a white, potent gas was sprayed in your face, and you immediately started to gag and cough on it as it felt like you were suffocating from the inside out. your lungs started to burn and your head was clouded, along with your vision.

"awe, having trouble?" he cooed as he grabbed you by the neck, choking you harshly.

before you could even formulate a response, a loud bang echoed in the lab. jonathan released his grip on your neck instantly, and though all your senses were disturbed, you could still articulate a few of his words through your current state. he said something about "the batman," and you knew that bruce was here to rescue you. internally, you thanked every higher power you could think of for having your brother come to your rescue.

not long after you heard jonathan say that, you looked up from the ground to see bruce with his hands gripped on jonathans face, his pale blue eyes widened and crazed. it appeared that bruce - the batman - had sprayed crane with whatever he had sprayed you with, and he was definitely seeing some shit while on his own drugs.

bruce's words were unintelligible at this point as you were just as drugged up as jonathan was, but you managed to hear jonathans voice meekly say something along the lines of "she's your sister?" bruce threw jonathan onto the ground, and the sound of police sirens could be heard in the background before your words were starting to become heavily slurred, and finally, your vision went black.

as your eyes fluttered open, you noticed that you were back inside of your own apartment. as your vision adjusted to the light, you noticed bruce calling your name softly as you sat up on your bed groggily.

"you're awake," he said quietly, coming over to sit on the edge of your bed, "how are you feeling?"

"what happened?" you ask as your head started to spin.

"long story," he sighed, "but i've been looking into crane for a while - all his experiments on his patients and such. it's inhumane, like you said, but it turns out he's been slowly trying to poison gotham city as a whole."

"what?" you say with surprise, "wait, i...what?"

"gordon had him arrested," he explained, "he had him locked up in arkham, but there was a mass escape. he's on the loose again."

everything that bruce was telling you was making you sick - what did he mean jonathan was just prowling around the city again?! with a deep breath, you look down and shake your head, tears welling in your eyes.

"i don't understand..." you whisper, and bruce reaches a hand out to your shoulder.

"i think you should stay at wayne manor for a while," he says softly, "it's safer for you there, i don't want you to be alone in your apartment."

"yeah, i think so too." you agreed.

"great," he says, "i'll grab us some food, and then we can start packing and head over to mine. sound good?"

"okay, can we get takeout from that chinese place i like?" you ask with a soft smile, and your brother nods.

"yeah, i'll go pick it up right now. do you think you'll be okay for about half an hour alone? maybe we should just head to mine first..." he says, looking at you with concern.

"bruce," you say softly, "i'll be okay. the sun is still out, it's like, mid-day still. don't worry."

it takes some convincing, but bruce eventually agrees and leaves to go pick up the takeout a few blocks down from your place. after a few minutes, you hear your door being unlocked. you get up from your bed inquisitively, unsure as to why bruce was back so soon. knowing him, he probably forgot his wallet or something. however, once you entered your living room, you were met with a sight that made your heart drop.

jonathan crane himself, standing there in your living room, with his scarecrow mask on. his unsettling but strikingly blue eyes met with yours as he looked at you through the small cutouts of his mask, and he smirked to himself.

"are you feeling alright?" he asked with a sickeningly sweet tone, "i'm sure my fear toxin had you feeling quite...disoriented."

you stagger backwards, gripping onto your bedroom doorframe as fear consumed you once more. you swallowed hard, and continued to backup as he stepped forward menacingly.

"m-my brother is going to be home soon." you whimper.

"oh, batman?" he chuckles lowly, his voice seemingly distorted with his mask, "i wouldn't be too sure of that, sweetheart. i thought i heard him say he was going to be at least half an hour."

your mind went stagnant as he told you that, and you wondered with panic on how he would know that information. jonathan seemed to have picked up on what you were thinking, as he took a step closer and lifted his wrist up to show that he had some sort of contraption that could gas you with his so called "fear toxin" at any given moment.

"you really are brainless, aren't you, sweetheart?" he cooed, "silly girl, i can't believe you didn't notice all the little cameras and recording devices i've been planting in your home."

"wh-what cameras?" you say as you felt tears run down your cheeks out of sheer panic and fear.

"i've been breaking in for months, i can't believe you haven't noticed," he snickered, getting closer and closer to you, "i want you so bad, sweetheart. and to think, i almost had you before the batman had to come and ruin things for me."

"please," you whimper, "don't...d-don't hurt me."

"don't give me a reason to." he shrugged, before lunging at you and pinning you against the wall with his hands wrapped around your neck. "it'll be easier if you don't struggle. otherwise, i might have to dose you with my medicine again."

"please, n-no-" you gasp, as his hands tightened around your neck.

"maybe i will, you look so beautiful when your fears are interweaving themselves with your reality. isn't the nightmare just to die for?" he asked dramatically, before throwing you onto your own bed harshly.

your lack of response must have set him off, though, because he decided to harshly grab at your hair. he cranked your head back so roughly that you could feel the strain in your neck, and you would rather he just strangulate you right now rather than put you through whatever he was about to.

"say you love it," he growled, "say you love me."

"f-fuck, no." you weakly whined, and he was lifting his other hand up before you started talking again, "i-i'm sorry, yes - i love you!"

you immediately rushed your words out, even if they were forced and untrue, because you really didn't want to be dosed with his fear toxin once more. the effects were worse than any fucked up nightmare you'd ever had.

"good girl," he cooed as he started to forcefully undress you, making you choke back a sob, "ugh, i can't wait to absolutely fucking ruin you."

the smell of his cologne flooded your senses, and you felt more tears drip down your face as he continued to undress you with zero resistance. you tried to tell yourself that maybe you were just having a nightmare, a side effect from the drugs - but you knew that wasn't true. bruce wouldn't be back for at least another half hour, giving jonathan free range to do whatever he wanted to you.

you had zoned out so deeply to cope that when you finally stopped dissociating, he was already fumbling with his belt buckle. as you tried to grab his wrist to force him away from you, the pressure from your hand accidentally triggered his wrist band to spray his fear toxin directly at you. you choked and sobbed as you heard him chuckle lowly through his mask, and at this point - you'd given up.

you stopped trying to fight it because it was no use. he had already won. his fear toxin was seeping into your every sense. the fears that were interwoven in your subconscious were now playing out right in front of you. it was like watching your worst nightmare, only fifty times worse, on repeat. at this point, you thought you were going to lose your sanity permanently.

jonathan had pulled your panties off of you with ease, as you were too high on the toxin to even understand what was going on in this very moment anymore.

the less you fought, the better.

with a groan, he forced himself into your cunt, breeching your hole painfully. obviously, there was a struggle because one, you weren't even in contact with reality right now and two, he was forcing himself onto you.

he spat down onto your cunt after a few moments, and that seemed to work. he let himself sink into you slowly, stretching you out painfully as you laid there in tears, unintelligibly whispering and pleading. he didn't bother to prep you or even try to make this enjoyable for you, since it was never really about you in the first place. it was about him; his pleasure and sick, disgusting, twisted obsession with you.

"fuck," he groaned, "you're so tight i think i might fucking break you, sweetheart."

he continued to fuck himself in and out of you, his length reaching places inside of you that shouldn't be reached. you couldn't tell which one was worse: the terrifying nightmares being fuelled in front of you or the pain in your lower region from his fat, veiny cock breaking your cunt in.

the tears never stopped, continuously pouring down your face as you tried to beg him to stop - but the words never came out. they couldn't. you were starting to feel every ounce of sanity you had left slip away from your body, leaving you in a permanent state of living hell.

"it's a concentrated - mm, f-fuck,- dose, my love. you're slipping away, i can feel it in the way your squeezing me." he groaned as he continued to split you open on his cock, rocking his hips back and forth as he held your waist still with an iron grip.

"s-stop." you weakly whispered, but he laughed lowly at the sad attempt.

you knew that you'd never recover from this, whether it be the assault or the effects of the fear toxin - both were things that would cause you to never live a normal life again.

"m'gonna take you away from here," he huffed, already close, "shit, you feel good- gonna fuck you every god damn day and fill you with my cum 'till you have my babies. keep giving you my cum over and over again."

that almost sounded worse than the disturbing, mind-rotting imagines that were flashing before your eyes right now from the toxin. you couldn't imagine a life that hellish - but you couldn't exactly object with the state you were in.

"don't worry," he says as he kept talking to you, "you're not going insane, sweetheart. fuck - like i said; it's a concentrated dose. you'll be back to your stuck up, whorish, braindead self in about twenty four hours."

twenty four hours? how were you suppose to survive for twenty four hours like this? how? you didn't know, but jonathan didn't seem to care. he did not care at all - all he cared about was kidnapping you and stuffing you full of his cum. all he craved for months was to give you his babies. get you nice and full, pregnant by him.

you didn't even notice when his hips stilled and his cum poured into your abused cunt, filling you with every drop he had. he let out a satisfied groan, and hesitantly, he pulled out.

you lay there as still as ever, tears still pouring down your face as you tried to remind yourself that the shadows, the whispers, and whatever other hellish things you were hallucinating were not real. jonathan then threw your pyajamas back on you in a hurry, and picked you up bridal style.

"c'mon," he says softly, as if he cared about you - as if you liked this, "let's go home."

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[karinasmy]

⌗ 𝗔𝗘𝗦𝗣𝗔 𝗔𝗦 𝗝𝗘𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗚𝗙𝗦 ✧˚ · 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦 ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

𝘢/𝘯 : 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘪 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘴𝘮𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺!! 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴!😭

⌗ 𝗞𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗔 ♡( 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘦𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺 )

so for rina

i think when she gets jealous shes just quiet

and she could get a little snarky sometimes, but just a smidge

karina didn't expect to come home to you and ningning laughing your asses off at some random tiktok you were showing her

for some reason she was very bothered by it even tho you guys were naturally close

you kinda took awhile to notice her standing there but you once you did, you were quick to wrap your arms around her

she'll play it off and act normal but she's def quiet and i think she'd look like she's deep in thought about something

so when you ask her to do something with you, that's when light bulbs go off

"hey wanna go grab lunch later" "idk why don't you go with ningning instead"

then you drag her to lunch anyway and endlessly tease her for being jealous in the first place

you also tease her ab the fact that she got jealous over the YOUNGEST member, like ma’am?

"i didn't press you for the jealous type bro" "just shut up and eat"

⌗ 𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 ♡( 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘫𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘪)

every time i see/think of this girl she's always smiling

so i think when she gets jealous she'll still be smiling but like it's def forced and looks fake

or if she's not smiling then she 100% looks like shes just zoned out staring into space in her own world

either way that shit makes her stomach feel weird deep down

she'll watch you and giselle just monitoring your dance practice but you guys are just way too close together and giselles shoulders brush against yours and-

"ning, you okay? you've been zoning out for a while" and she just smiles again and plays it off

you knew something was up so when you're back at the dorms that's when you ask her and she shyly admits that seeing you that close w giselle made her feel uneasy

you kiss her forehead softly and tell her she has nothing to worry about before pulling her into bed and cuddling w her for the entire night (even if ur arm goes incredibly numb cuz girlie does not move an inch away from u

⌗ 𝗚𝗜𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗘 ♡( 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘮𝘺𝘶𝘦)

radio silence.

she's already naturally quiet as is and she def does not speak her emotions compared to the others

so it takes you a little longer to figure out when she's jealous vs the other members

after finishing a movie w winter, she just blankly watches the two of you have deep conversations ab it

and honestly you confuse her jealous silence for her normal silence at first

but you start realizing the difference when she's less affectionate with you (bc behind closed doors i think giselle is so affectionate like she deadass wont let go of you and is so touchy, needs to be holding you or be in close proximity w you)

"gigi, are you okay?" and she just nods. girl pls give us something to work with

she never really openly admits that she was jealous of you and rina but ur smart genius self put two and two together and connected the dots when u saw she was quiet around winter too but not the others

but be she never outwardly said it, you don't outwardly tell her not to worry or not to be jealous. instead you spend more time w her and getting her her fav snacks and whatnot and she appreciates it so much

giselle likes how you don't need to be told when something bothers her, and when you figure it out, you always knew how to make her feel better without words

actions do speak louder than words and giselle knows how true that is with you

⌗ 𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥 ♡(𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘭𝘶𝘨𝘣𝘰𝘺)

Im gonna go for a platonic type of jealousy for winter

she wanted to show u a new app she downloaded but u told her u were busy learning the new choreo from karina

and she just whines

not like an annoying child throwing a tantrum kinda whine but just in a "why do u alw have sumn better to do" typa way

when u finish w karina ur quick to go back to the dorms to see winter napping

and u lowk feel bad be all she wanted to do was show u sumn

u decide to let her sleep but ur idiot self banged ur hand on her door while trying to close it and now u feel bad even more bc she woke up

"you're back alr?" "yeah i came here quickly so you could show me the app"

winter is super excited even tho she jus woke up, and shes reaching for her phone and is tapping thru w such speed

you both spend hours on the app (i keep saying the app bc idk what kinda app it would be but im thinking either a game or a photo filter app idk) before ur both scolded by ningning

it's literally giving when ur little sibling just wants to show u sumn cool but ur too busy and u feel bad

[f1-jay]

Relax - Jenson Button

Pairing: TeamPrincipal!Jenson x FemDriver!Reader

Summary: Jenson helps the reader relax after a bad result.

Warnings: MDNI - Smut (P in V), sex in the workplace, Age Gap

Words: 1.8k

The race didn’t go as well as you had hoped, especially after qualifying in 2nd and ending up in 8th, putting you from first to third in the championship. You went through the media pen, then had a debrief with the team. There was positive energy, and the team was still happy with the result; you got four points and your teammate got twelve. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. You went into a small office area and really tried to determine where you went wrong.

The bright light from the sunset was streaming in through the window and into your line of sight. You closed the blind and continued analysing the footage. You can see the door open from the corner of your eye, and look up to see your team principal, Jenson Button. When you make eye contact with him, he tilts his head slightly. You pause the video.

“Yes? Can I help you?” You ask, even though you were pretty sure you knew what was going to come out of his mouth. The look on his face gave it away.

“I know you’re not pleased with your results, but that doesn’t mean you need to do this. We went through it in the debrief; you drove great; an unfortunate-timed safety car isn’t your fault.” He reminds you with a gentle smile as he comes in and closes the door.

“I know, but I was 6th after the safety car, then I proceeded to lose two more places, so I still want to see what I could’ve done better.” You say it with a shrug of the shoulders. Jenson leans against the desk next to you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You did the best you could. No one’s disappointed in the result but you” he says reassuringly. He reaches out and takes the device from your hands. “You need to take a break. We’re headed straight into another race week; I would rather you prepare for that than stress about this.” You hold your hand out, wanting him to give the device back.

“Just 10 more minutes." You negotiate, but he shakes his head and places the tablet on the far corner of the table, out of your reach.

“No, I’ve seen you on a weekend like this before. Ten minutes will become one hour.” You know it’s true and figure that there is no point in arguing, so you put your hands up in surrender and agree to not do any more. “You put in some of the most intense hard work and preparation I’ve ever seen; you need to not push so hard sometimes. In the end, it won’t do you any good."

“That sounds a little hypocritical,” you say with a slightly confused look on your face. “Weren’t you like this back in the day?”

"Yeah, and that’s why I’m telling you to slow down.” He admits “Plus, Id hate to see you go grey early," bringing a lighter mood to the conversation.

“I think I’ll leave the whole ‘going grey’ thing to you for now.” You gesture at him.

“That sounded a bit judgy, I happen to look good with grey, thank you.”

“I never said it didn’t look good?” You place a hand on your chest as you defend yourself.

“Oh? So you think I look good?” a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He always had a natural flirtyness with the way he spoke.

“Shut up.” You laugh and shake your head at him. Your response caused him to chuckle softly.

“You can’t deny it. You think I’m attractive.” He teased

“That would be a little scandalous, no? Telling my boss that he is attractive” You lean back in your chair and fiddle with your fingers. Jenson looks at you amused; his eyes still fixed on you.

“I’d describe it more like…thrilling”

“Is that right?” You question. The conversation felt like it could be heading into dangerous territory, but with a man like Jenson in front of you, what else were you meant to do. You knew it was wrong; it was your boss, but it was also the man you’ve been crushing on for a few years. He leans down slightly.

“You sound intrigued.” His voice was a little deeper than before.

“I shouldn’t be.” You don’t want to be too forward, hoping that he leads the conversation if he wants to go in that direction.

“But you are, aren’t you?” His hands come down to both arm rests, caging you in, as he gazes down at you. You slowly nodded in response and confirmed what he said. He leans even closer, your noses almost touching. His eyes linger on your lips for a few seconds before meeting your eyes again. “And what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t think I can say. It’s not very work-friendly.” You can feel the warmth of his breath as he chuckles.

“What we do after work isn’t really anybody’s business but our own.” I look to the side and gesture outward.

“We’re still in the workplace.”

“The door is locked. The blinds are shut. Nobody is going to walk in on us or see.” His eyebrow slightly arches, as if he’s challenging you to go ahead and do something. You grab his jaw, pulling him forward to kiss him. He lets out a surprised hum, then closes his eyes as he eagerly kisses you back. His hands move from the chair to your waist, pulling you up from your seat so that your bodies are against each other. He slightly turns and takes a step, so your butt is against the table. He lifts you up to sit on top of it and stands between your legs as he continues to kiss you. Jenson’s hands move down to your hips as he deepens the kiss. His tongue runs against your bottom lip, you adhere and open your mouth slightly, and one of his hands makes its way to your hair. He slowly breaks the kiss and starts trailing his lips along your jawline and down your neck.

“Sir” you softly breathe out. He pulls back a little and looks at you with a grin. He leans in by your ear.

“Yes, sweetheart?” His lips hover over your skin.

“I need to know if we are going to go all the way.”

“Do you want to?” He asks, looking into your eyes again, and you nod. His eyes darkened slightly. “Are you sure?” He wants to make sure you are certain before you go any further.

“Yes, Jenson” His eyes roam over your face, searching for any hesitation. When he finds none, he kisses you again, his hands moving to the waistband of your pants. He works on getting them off, and they fall down to your ankles while you untuck his shirt and fiddle with the buttons. His thumb circles your clit over your panties for a moment until he can feel wetness on the pad of his finger. He pulls them down, and his fingers run through your pussy.

“I’d love to take this slow, but it’s only a matter of time before someone interrupts.” He pulls his pants and underwear down and holds his hand out under your mouth, telling you to spit. When you do, he begins to stroke his cock. His other hand goes to your shoulder, guiding you to lay down. He slides the tip through your folds before pushing it in; you can’t help the small gasp that comes from you. Inch by inch, he slides to rest in, and the slight stretch feels heavenly. You try to keep your voice down as you tell him how good he feels. He keeps hold of your hips as he builds rhythm, and you are forced to bite your lip to contain noise.

Honestly, it had been a little while since you had sex, mostly because you could imagine the things that the media would say if they found out, you would get torn to shreds just because you’re a girl. The desk beneath you creaks every so often, which reminds you where you are. Then the doorknob rattles. You both tense up a little, and Jenson stills inside of you for a single second.

“Who is it?” He calls out; it’s one of the engineers wanting to talk to him. Your pussy clenches around him, causing his attention back to you. He starts thrusting again, slow but hard. “Y/n and I are having an important conversation.” His voice was strained. “We need some time.” My nails dig into your back, and my hand comes up to my mouth as you speed up. His eyes close as a soft grunt leaves his lips. Once the guy acknowledged that and walked away, you asked him to go faster again, and he did. His hand comes to your mouth, moving yours away and covering it himself. “You need to be quiet, sweetheart. Can’t have anyone hearing us.”

“Sorry” you mumble into his hand. An amused grin is on his face at your apology, and his hand squeezes a little tighter, being sure to muffle any noise. Your back arches and you grab his hand that’s silencing you, gripping onto it. Your actions spur him on, and as he looks down at you with desire, his movements become more intense.

“That’s it. Come on.” His voice is low and almost rough. Your hand that’s on his back slides across to his bicep, and you tap a couple of times, trying to tell him you’re getting close. He’s also starting to feel the same way, with the same tension building in him. “Let me have it, sweet girl.” That’s enough to have your high hit you. Jenson feels your body shiver beneath him, and it pushes him to his finish. He keeps grinding softly as you ride out your releases. For a few moments, the only sound in the room was ragged breathing.

He pulls out and leans on the desk, then looks down at you lying on the desk. He reaches out and brushes a lock of hair from your face; his eyes roam over your flushed skin.

“You okay there?”

“Mmm, I’m great." You open your eyes to look at him. He smiles at you and slowly pulls you up into a sitting position, his hands on your hips to keep you there.

“You certainly look great." His words make you shake your head and giggle.

“I hate you” You say as you look away from him, almost nervous to make eye contact.

“You seemed to think I was pretty great a few minutes ago.” He gently turns you back to look at him and cocks his eyebrow.

“Well, we might have to do it again soon for me to actually confirm if it was any good.”

“Is that so?” He leans down to kiss your lips. “I think that can be arranged.”

[miyasturniolo]

ICECREAM | chris sturniolo

pairing: bf!chris x f!reader

summary: chris wasn't the best boyfriend when it comes to dates and he even knew that but for a first he came up with a simple idea after having a meltdown.

warnings: fluff, kissing, pet names (ma, babe, darling), flirting, crying, sadness, swearing, mention of y/n.

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. I came up with this idea because I found my lets trip shirt which has an icecream van. (photo on top but the shirt) I’m not sure about this one tbh..

WORDS: 2.0k

miyasturniolo on wattpad

you - pink | chris - orange | nick - purple | icecream man - red

-

Chris wasn't the most attentive boyfriend when it came to planning dates, and both of you were aware of that. Sometimes he made an effort, but deep down he knew his ideas were lackluster, so he simply referred it as two people who love each other and spending time together.

He often lamented his lack of creativity when it came to planning dates, despite having a vivid imagination that sometimes even confused him with its randomness.

At this moment though, he was in his room, rubbing his eyes to wipe away tears of frustration. He couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't good enough for you, believing that you deserved to be taken out by someone who could provide a better dating experience than a YouTuber like himself, who feared ruining your time together.

The sound of his sniffles filled the quiet room as he listened to music, unaware of how loud he was being. He hoped to become a better boyfriend, seeking solace in the music to calm his nerves.

Meanwhile, you were in the kitchen, making yourself a drink while spending time with Nick because chris had as well snapped at you earlier, asking for some alone time, which had left you feeling unsettled.

You heard a faint sound that was possibly just your imagination, but you recognized the sobs and sniffles that prompted you to set your drink down and glance towards his room.

Although you knew he wasn't in the mood to see anyone, you couldn't shake off the worry, so you made your way to his room.

He didn't hear your knock on the door since the music in his headphones. As you entered and closed the door behind you, you found him crying, curled up into a ball.

When his eyes met yours, he quickly wiped his tears and turned off his music. "What are you doing here, y/n?" His voice trembled slightly, trying to act like he hadn’t been crying.

Your expression softened into a frown, but you remained silent until you sat down next to him on the bed, offering a gentle hug. “what’s up?”

He managed a faint smile, though it seemed forced, as if he believed he didn't deserve your comfort and should push you away to find a better and more attentive boyfriend who would take you out on dates.

He lapsed into silence, avoiding answering your question, and simply gazed at you with his red, tear-filled eyes.

Chris shrugged, showing reluctance to talk, but he did rest his head on your chest as you embraced him. Although he didn't hug back, he did lean on you for support.

You had numerous questions, but you chose to remain quiet, waiting for him to open up since you had ways of encouraging him to share. Your hands comfortingly rubbed his shoulder.

"Why are you with me?" he finally asked, no longer meeting your gaze as he stared at the wall. "What?" you responded, puzzled.

He nervously bit his nails, a small habit of his, but it wasn't something he did constantly. "I'm a terrible boyfriend," he admitted.

You simply gazed at him, unsure of how to respond because his self-criticism caught you off guard. "No, you're not," you reassured him.

He shook his head and let out a hollow laugh, indicating his disbelief in your words, leaving you feeling even more perplexed as you struggled to figure out how to help him.

"If I were a better boyfriend, you would have felt more ease around me, even when my fans criticized you because of our relationship. I wish I could be the partner you deserve, but I struggle with planning and going on dates. I fear that choosing a bad date could even change your perception of me," he expressed, his thoughts jumbled and unclear.

You observed his expressions as he spoke, tears welling up in his eyes once more. Gently pushing his hair back, you planted a kiss on his forehead as he wiped away his tears.

"Chris," you whispered, unsure of how to comfort him. He simply shook his head and embraced you tightly, the scent of his cologne enveloping you.

He sniffled, wiping his tears as he noticed the stain on your shirt. "Don't Chris me, darling," he whispered.

You gently put your hand on his jaw, making him look at you. You kissed his soft lips, noticing the pineapple lip balm he had been using, a gift from his oldest brother which was his brand.

He kissed you back, but then pulled away, smiling slightly with watery eyes that didn't shed tears. "I feel like a terrible boyfriend, every time we go out there's always a problem, and they are always shit” he mumbled.

The few outings we had were always interrupted by fans or canceled for various reasons. He wiped his nose with his sleeve before resting his head on your shoulder, sitting on his bed with you, now essentially in your lap.

His hands toyed with your shirt as he kissed your neck, then pulled away to stand up and get dressed. "Get dress.. please ma," he said with a hint of puppy eyes, not too intense though.

"Why?" you asked looking at your shirt and pyjama bottoms, but he just rolled his eyes and asked you to change once more.

Your gaze was fixed on him as he removed his jumper, revealing his bare chest since he wasn't wearing a shirt, and proceeded to change into more appropriate attire for going out.

Noticing your confusion and unchanged state, he fetched a shirt and shorts for you from his closet, as you have a drawer with your clothes there. "Here you go, babe," he said.

You accepted the clothing with a small smile, and he returned the gesture, although he was still somewhat upset.

After changing, unfazed by his gaze as he had seen you undressed before, his attention was once again on you while he sorted himself out.

"What's going on?" You inquired, but Chris just shrugged, pretending not to know, before embracing you from behind and planting a kiss on your neck, adorned with his love bites that you had concealed with makeup earlier so his brothers didn’t see. "How dare you cover my artwork," he teased before pulling away.

His mood lightened a bit, which was a positive sign, but you remained silent as he took hold of your hand and led you out of your room, causing you to let out a small gasp of surprise at the sudden movement.

"We have to walk there, it's just a ten minute walk," he said as he grabbed the keys, making your heart race with curiosity about his intentions.

You followed him into the clear, warm night, his piercing blue eyes alternating between you and his destination.

"Chris, where are we going?" you inquired, but he cut you off, teasingly remarking, "You sound like you don't trust me, ma," as he draped an arm around your waist.

Despite his usual bad luck with encountering fans when he wasn't in the mood, he was surprised that no one had recognized him yet.

An uneasy silence lingered, with you sensing that he wanted to share something important but struggled to find the words. Eventually, unable to contain himself, he blurted it out hastily.

"I'm sorry for being shit to you earlier. I feel like everyone else has perfect relationships while I struggle with being a good boyfriend. I'm not very creative when it comes to planning dates, and sometimes I find them awkward. But I want to make an effort with you because... I don't know," he said once again, trying to choose his words carefully.

You turned to look at him as he stared at the ground. "You're not a bad boyfriend, Chris. You never have been and you're not now," you said firmly.

He just shrugged, but then he gently squeezed your hip and kissed the top of your head. "I still feel like I am," he admitted.

You glanced at him and then at the path ahead in the park, noticing that his gaze was fixed on the moon in the dark sky as it was already 9pm.

He let out a quiet sigh and changed the subject. "Are you hungry?" he asked, his blue eyes finally meeting yours. You nodded with a small smile. “Yeah”

"Good," he chuckled softly and took you down a road that wasn't empty, with a few shops along the way. He released his hold on your waist and instead held your hand tightly to ensure he wouldn't lose you.

You followed him, feeling his firm grasp, so you had no choice but to go along. Your eyes shifted between his hand and the direction you were heading.

He led you to a small town that operated 24/7, where he suddenly stopped and pulled you close to him, as he had been running and didn't want you to continue.

"I want to try and plan a date, even if it's simple," he whispered, kissing the top of your head before taking you to an ice cream parlor that was still open late at night, around 9pm.

He kept his gaze on your face as you surveyed the flavors available, a small smile playing on your lips. His hand rested on your waist as you examined the options, then back at the ice cream parlor. "What would you like, y/n?" he asked.

Your eyes landed on Chris, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I'll just go with my usual," you said, revealing your favorite ice cream flavor.

As he placed the order for both of you, swiftly paying before you had the chance to do so, he whispered in your ear, "All on me darling," before the ice cream vendor handed you both your treats with a smile. “Here you go”

Taking his ice cream and receiving yours, he smiled, and you both thanked the vendor before following Chris. He glanced at you, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you indulged in your dessert.

He was aware of your presence behind him, ensuring your safety as you walked together. "Listen, I'm sorry if I'm not the best boyfriend, especially when it comes to dates- and snapping at you," he apologized, a sense of familiarity in his words.

"Stop repeating your apology’s, it’s okay, you idiot," you whispered with a smile, causing him to chuckle before saying, "I’m not a idiot” to which you shake your head in response.

"Whatever makes you happy," you whispered, your gaze fixed on him as you guys walked through the park. “Your the idiot”

For the past hour or more, you were chatting and hanging out with friends, until you eventually ended up at his place. It was around 10, almost 11 pm, so you both went quiet and tried to head to his room when suddenly you heard a voice.

"Are you serious?! You had me worried, thinking you both disappeared since you didn't answer your phones and left me alone, y/n," Nick exclaimed, causing your eyes to widen as you remembered mentioning you were going to the kitchen, but then got caught up in other activities.

"I owe you a hangout session tomorrow," you replied, only to have Chris playfully place his hand over his heart, pretending to be offended that you would choose to hang out with his brother over him.

MIYAS MASTERLIST & INFO

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

They unknowingly bring up an insecurity Seungmin|

Your heart was strung in your throat. Seungmin was always one to tease; and for the most part he was good about shying away from topics you were sensitive about so no problems had ever arisen. But as you read over his texts over and over again you felt your heart pinch in a way that was all to similar to what you had felt in your previous relationship.

"You talk too much, you know that?" Your ex had told you that numerous times, and eventually it led to a break up. And your constant yapping became something that made you insecure.

But when you first met Seungmin you felt like you were perfect the way you were. Chan had said you would balance Seungmin out quite well. And up until now you felt as if that were the case.

Now you wondered if maybe you did become to much.

Maybe the constant chatter had become annoying to the quiet boy you loved dearly.

And while you had been in love numerous times before, it hurt more to even think of losing Seungmin than all your previous heart breaks combined. And that was a lot considering you had always been the one to have your heart broken.

You couldn't tear yourself away from your phone screen - rereading those texts and overanalyizing the tone.

Maybe it was in a light hearted way? Or maybe it was the complete opposite and it was fully aggression?

You sat there trying to pick apart every single meaning, connotation, and tone the words he sent could have when your phone dimed again.

"I'm guessing your busy shopping since my phone has been quite for more than fifteen minutes. Haha, I think that's a first!"

You did everything in your power to try and bite back the knot in your throat from coming up and causing tears. So much so your eyes started to burn and you ended up shedding a few quietly.

The rest of the day you busied yourself with miniscule little tasks like dusting the fans and sweeping the welcome mat that you intended to take along with you when you moved in with Seungmin.

You tried to take your mind off of the texts. You figured Seungmin didn’t mean it in anyway malicious sort of way. In fact you knew he meant it as a lighthearted joke. In the time you had spent with him you had easily learned just how kind and loving of a person he was, and how much he cared for you.

You just couldn’t shake the hurt from those words - and more importantly the fear you had deep down that there was some truth to the words he had sent.

By the time Seungmin arrived at your apartment it was early evening. Every Wednesday you guys would cook together ever since you witnessed him and Felix blowing food up by accident on a live. Seungmin followed the normal routine of slipping off his shoes and into his house slippers and immediately changing into a cheap shirt he had bought when you first had started your endeavors since he was smart enough to realize he was a messy cook.

“Hey baby.” He said as he greeted you with a quick hug from behind and a chaste kiss to the cheek before he went to wash his hands.

You have a small noise of acknowledgement as Seungmin dried his hands off on a plaid towel and turned to you with happy anticipation.

“What are we cooking today?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs.” You replied as you started to grab the necessary ingredients. Seungmin followed you around like a happy puppy and helped you a carry everything to the counter you reserved for preparation of ingredients.

“So how do we start?” Seungmin asked. By now he had noticed your face was a little droopy and your responses were short and if there was any conversation it was only in answer to his initiation.

“With the ground beef.” You said as you pulled out a big bowl to put the meat and seasonings in. Seungmin watched you from his peripheral as you poured in some panco bread crumbs and a bunch of other various aromatic seasonings while he opened up the meat packaging.

As he kneeled everything with his hands he tried asking you about your day.

“So did you end up ordering the mugs baby?”

“No, I didn’t.” Silence.

“Oh…maybe after dinner we can look on Etsy together? Or maybe find a website to customize them? It might seem like a lot but I think the guys would really appreciate your sentiment.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Silence.

Seungmin started to roll out oddly and unevenly shaped meatballs and continued to try and ask you questions as you guys worked, but your answers we short. Not rude. But literally short.

Not thouroghly explained like usual.

Even at dinner you were quiet and barely even touched your food.

“Do you not feel good baby?” Seungmin asked you as you played with a piece of garlic bread.

“I feel okay…maybe a little tired.” You said popping the piece into your mouth as if to show you were feeling fine.

Seungmin sighed and put his fork down.

“Did my text hurt your feelings?” He had been worrying about it all day when he had seen you had left him on read. It was an odd thing but nevertheless endearing when you would finish a conversation over text and send a meme to him just to acknowledge the end of the conversation, and to make sure he “didn’t find it hurtful” that you had left him on read. Even if he constantly assured you it was in no way shape or form a problem.

You hadn’t sent him a meme. And the more he thought about it he realized that his humor might not have translated through text.

“Im sorry if I hurt your feelings. It was a joke, Y/N. I would never purposefully want to hurt you. I love when you share about your day. I was a bit tied up so while you texting me might have been inconvienent at the moment doesnt mean I don’t appreciate you wanting me to know everything about what you are doing. I love that you want me to be a part of your life , even the tiny thing.”

“It’s okay babe.” You replied putting a smile on your face. “I know you didn’t mean it to hurt me. I’m just tired that’s all.” You let out a breath as you stood up and collected Seungmin’s plate. “Maybe we can just watch a movie instead of shopping? I just don’t feel like thinking very much right now in any capacity…” You let out quietly.

“Of course.” Seungmin responded, trailing you into the kitchen as you set the plates in the sink. “I love you.” He said quietly, his voice lilting up slightly. Were you actually okay?

“I love you too Minmin.” You place a a small kiss next to his eye and head towards the living room.

During the movie Seungmin kept stealing glances at you as you leaned on him but not into him. As you laughed but the curve of your mouth didn’t exactly reach your eyes. And how those same eyes were focused on the screen but your mind was obviously some place else.

Although you had said you were fine your silence gave him the answer you actually wanted to give. That Seungmin had struck a nerve more sensitive than he had known.

[sailor-aviator]

Road to Perdition: Chapter One

Road to Perdition: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: The Great Depression wasn't called a depression for nothing. Jobs were scarce, and the price of food and other necessities were rising higher and higher with each passing day. What little money you were able to make went straight to the bank and out of reach from your booze-swilling lech of a brother. It's on one such run that you come face to face with members of the infamous Dagger Gang; a group of, admittedly handsome, men who steal from the banks to hand it back out to the poor. You want nothing to do with them, but that blond-headed devil might just have something to say to the contrary. (1930s!Mobster!AU)

Content Warning: Feelings of inadequacy from reader, Lectures from father figures, Bank robbery, Mentions of guns, Mentions of historical events, Flirting, Cocky Hangman, Forced kissing, Reader gets knocked out, and slight kidnapping. I think that's it, but please let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: 3.2k

Series Masterlist

The heels of your shoes clacked against the pavement, and you made a mental note to replace the worn out pair sooner rather than later. It was an unwanted expense, albeit a necessary one. You’d have to spring for more thread and perhaps another needle too considering you had discovered a rip in your skirt on your way into town.

You let out a heavy sigh, a frown tugging on your lips that could almost be called a pout if it weren’t for your pride. Your hand tightened on the strap of your bag as you narrowly avoided colliding shoulders with a passing stranger, a scowl marring your face as you glanced over your shoulder to glare at him. He paid you no mind, his expensive looking suit tailored to his tall figure, one hand shoved deep into his pocket as the other gripped the rim of his hat. You rolled your eyes at the mustached man before turning back forward. You weren’t personally a fan of the facial hair that had started becoming so popular as of late. You preferred either a full face or nothing at all, not that it really mattered you supposed.

Laughter filtered out of one of the cafes, and the sound send a wave of longing through you. It had been a long time since you had taken the initiative to spend time with your friends, and more and more of them were leaving the small town, looking to bigger cities for more opportunities along with their families. Many of them lamented the fact that you seemed to be the only one who was still single amongst them, most having already settled down over the years or making their way there.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to settle down because you did. You also knew that your current situation wasn’t exactly a healthy one to bring another person into, let alone a helpless child. Jack had developed a wicked temper ever since he started his heavy drinking, and there had been more than one occasion where you had had to make yourself scarce in order to avoid his wrath.

“Well, hey there, Moonie!”

You turned to see Mr. Kerner stepping out of his shop, a beaming smile on his face as he waved at you. His hair had long since grayed, giving him a more distinguished look compared to a decade ago. You used to frequent his shop often when you were younger, your mother stopping by once a week for her essentials and a small treat for you. Your mouth watered at the memory of peanut butter cups that melted on your tongue during those days, and you briefly considered stepping into the shop to allow yourself the rare treat.

“Afternoon, Mr. Kerner,” you smiled back, turning to face him as you shifted on your feet. “Getting much business today?”

“Oh, well, you know,” he chuckled, placing a hand on his hip as he rested against the door frame, “times are tough for everyone right now, so I’m taking each day as she comes.”

You hummed in agreement, your smile shifting into something slightly more sardonic at the comment.

“What about you, Moonie?” He pressed. “Don’t see you ‘round these parts much. Not since…”

He trailed off, and you bit back the urge to sigh. Your parents’ deaths had kept you fairly isolated to your little home on the outskirts, only venturing in to take the occasional job for the paper and to make your weekly deposits. You had tried to make the necessities at home stretch as much as you could, not wanting to spend more money than necessary as you kept saving.

“Don’t really have much of a need to come into town, I suppose,” you offered, tilting your head back to avoid meeting the older man’s gaze. The buildings were beginning to look rundown, one of the many downsides to living during an economic crisis.

“No,” he agreed, but the tone of his voice indicated that he felt differently. “I suppose not. I see your friends around here all the time, though. Comin’ and goin’ and makin’ the best of everything. You should join’em sometime.”

“I’d just be a third wheel,” you snort, kicking at a rock beneath your feet as your eyes continued to look everywhere but at him.

“Maybe,” He nodded, “but it would do you some good to get out of that old house of yours. You should enjoy being young while you still can.”

“It’s not so bad,” you muttered, noticing in your peripheral the cynical look he cast your way. Ron Kerner had always been kind to you, sneaking you an extra sweet when you were younger and looking out for your well-being now that you were older and your parents were gone. You were grateful to him, but it didn’t stop you from letting out a huff of annoyance as he continued to stare you down.

“If I promise to make more of an effort to leave the house, will you stop nagging me like a mother hen?” You asked him, finally meeting his eyes with a challenge. He quirked an eyebrow at you, the subtle twitch of his lips being the only giveaway that a smile lay hidden beneath his stern look.

“Depends,” he hummed, “what do you mean by ‘leave the house?’ I ain’t gonna be duped out of naggin’ ya if all you’re gonna do is go around taking pictures for the paper. You need to go out and have some proper fun.”

The two of you stared one another down. You knew his heart was in the right place, but it still irked you to be scolded like a child.

“Fine,” you mumbled, earning a grin from the man in front of you. “But don’t expect me to be out here giggling like a schoolgirl every day.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he chuckled. You grunted at him, peering over towards the cafe where a group of girls emerged, arms looped through one another’s as they giggled and shrieked their way between the two of you. You took note of their carefully curled hair and ruby red lips, suddenly feeling a little self conscious at the state of yourself. You caught Mr. Kerner’s eye, feeling your cheeks warm at the sight of his sympathetic smile as the girls continued on down the walkway. You didn’t need anyone’s pity.

“Come on in and grab yourself a bottle of coke,” Kerner said with a roll of his shoulders, pushing off from the door frame.

“I shouldn’t,” you muttered, shooting a glance down the street. You still needed to go by the bank, and you were hoping that Mr. Mitchell would have an assignment for you if you swung by the Gazette headquarters early enough.

“Wasn’t a question,” Mr. Kerner snorted, disappearing into his shop. You hesitated for a moment longer before letting out a long sigh, trudging through the doorway after him.

The shop held an air of familiarity, not many of the brands having changed in the long years that it had been open. There had been talk of putting in a soda fountain a few years back, but old Ron Kerner had scowled at the idea, and so it had gone to the drugstore down the street instead.

The pop and hiss of the glass bottle being opened drew your attention to the counter where Mr. Kerner stood, holding out the drink to you.

“How much do I owe you?” You asked, already moving to pull out some of the loose change still nestled in the depths of your bag. He waived you off before setting the bottle down and turning to mess with one of the boxes stacked in the corner.

“For you? Free of charge.”

You let out another sigh, knowing better than to argue with him as you took a sip of the bubbly liquid. It had been God only knows how long since you had allowed yourself a treat like this, and you couldn’t help but to smile as the cool, sweet drink washed over your tastebuds.

The two of you said nothing for a while as you enjoyed your treat and Mr. Kerner worked on his inventory, the day passing on as you enjoyed the peace and quiet. You finished your drink with surprising quickness, letting the bottle clack against the wood of the counter as you adjusted your bag on your shoulder.

“Headed out?” Mr. Kerner asked, glancing up from his logbook as your eyes darted around the shop.

“Yeah,” you said, brow furrowing as you turned to look back at him. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have any thread in here by chance, would you?”

A couple of minutes later and a few cents poorer, you found yourself entering the bank. It was a large building, maybe even the largest in town. Very few people of your standing still trusted the banks, not after the stock market crash that took place almost five years ago. It wasn’t until a few months ago when the Roosevelt administration passed an emergency act that people started leaving money with the banks again. You had been one of the first to go back to the banks, and while the clerk had given you a rather disapproving look as he finalized the paperwork. You made sure to avoid him as much as possible after that first day, preferring to interact with the stout, older gentleman who always greeted you with a smile.

The bank itself held an air of prestige, like you weren’t supposed to be there amongst the opulent decorations and well-dressed patrons, several casting you bewildered looks as you paused in the doorway. Conversations were muffled as the clack of typewriters in the back mixed in with the clank of coins being counted, and no matter how many times you found yourself inside the grand room, your heart always began to race, the whispers of self consciousness tugging on the hairs on the back of your neck.

You caught sight of an older woman leaning in to her husband’s side, whispering something in his ear as she gave you a disapproving glare. Your lips tugged into a frown, and with a roll of your shoulders, you held your head high as you made your way towards one of the lines of patrons waiting to make their transactions. A man scribbled away on a piece of paper next to you, the scratch of his pen more pronounced in the echo of the hushed room.

Your fingers played with the strap of your bag, a sense of unease tugging at your gut. You didn’t like being in this space, the stark contract between you and others even more pronounced as you took in the fine clothes of the other patrons. You glanced down furtively at your navy blue skirt, noticing for the first time how worn it looked. You smoothed your hand over the pleats, once again reminding yourself that there were more important things than worrying about one’s fashion.

The line moved forward as the patron at the window finished his business, the next person stepping up to greet the clerk. There were still three people ahead of you, and you let out a sigh, cursing Mr. Kerner’s insistence on you sticking around for a while.

You heard the door to the bank open, several sets of footsteps clacking onto the hardwood behind you.

“Everybody on the ground!”

Several of the people around you exclaimed in fear, a couple of women letting out terrified shrieks as a man bumped into you, nearly sending you crashing to the ground. You caught yourself just in time, placing a steadying hand on the top of the table next to you as you crouched down.

A group of five men stood in the doorway, guns in hand as they took in their surroundings. You recognized the one standing in the middle as the mustached man who nearly crashed into you earlier that morning, dark eyes holding a wild sense of mirth as he strutted further into the room.

“We’ll make this nice and easy for you folks,” he drawled, lips twitching up into a smirk. “Y’all just stay where you are, and we’ll be out of your hair before you know it.”

You watched them warily as they dispersed throughout the room, patrons shrugging away in fear whenever one got too close. A darker skinned man strutted his way across the room, grabbing a finely dressed, older gentleman by the scruff of his neck and dragged him to the back room followed by the shortest of the bunch.

You gripped your bag tightly, eyes shifting as you waited for the nightmare to be over. You shied away as one of the men walked near you, a confident swagger to his step. The man stopped just in front of you, and you could feel his eyes on you. You kept your gaze pointed forward, refusing to look at him even as he closed the distance between the two of you. You heard the weight of his gun settle on top of the table as he leaned against it, hand slipping into his pocket.

“Well hey there, Sugar,” he drawled. You could hear the smirk in his voice, the timber causing your heart to skip a beat. You refused to look up at him even as he snickered.

“You don’t gotta be afraid of me, darlin’,” he continued, taking the hand out of his pocket to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “I don’t bite. Not unless you ask me real nice.”

You stiffened at the insinuation, lips pressed firmly together as you willed him to leave you alone. Your silence only seemed to egg him on though, and the hand that lingered by your hair moved forward to ghost over the apple of your cheek, nearly brushing your lips.

“I got a way to pass the time, you know,” he purred, “all you gotta do is use that pretty little mouth of yours.”

You head shot up at his words, anger coursing through you as you glared at him, and for a second, the man looked taken aback by your sudden fury. He was handsome, you had to give him that, aggravatingly so even. Green eyes stared down at you, squared jaw slack as he took you in. A beat passed before his shock turned into a look of pure delight. Lips curving into a salacious smirk, his hand cradled your jaw as he leaned forward, so close that the tip of his nose brushed yours.

“Aren’t you a little spitfire?” He crooned. You jerked your head back out of his grasp, baring your teeth at him. He let out another snicker as his smirk widened into a full-blown grin.

“That’s enough, Hangman,” the mustached man chided, scowling at the man in front of you. Green eyes glanced your way once more before he let out a huff, straightening back up. He took off his hat, running his hand through blond locks before settling it back on top of his head.

“What’s taking them so long?” Hangman groused, turning to look towards the door his companions had disappeared behind not too long before. Just then, the door burst open, revealing the small group of men in question. The taller of the two robbers still had his hand on the back of the older man’s neck as he dragged him across the room. The smaller of the two held several bags in his hands, tossing one to the man on the other side of the room.

You heard sirens off in the distance, head turning towards the noise along with the man in front of you. The smaller man cursed under his breath, and the mustached one pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Looks like we’re not making a clean getaway after all, boys,” he frowned, dark eyes fixed on the men in front of him. “Payback, Fanboy, we’re taking Mr. Jennings with us.”

He glanced over at Hangman, and a second later, a firm hand wrapped around your bicep, hauling you up on your feet.

“Looks like you’re comin’ with us, Sweets,” he murmured, pressing tight against your back as he marched you forward. The crowd murmured in fear as they allowed the men to pass, and bright contrast of the sun compared to the shaded room of the bank lobby left you momentarily blind. You moved to shield your eyes, but stumbled instead as Hangman dragged you down the steps toward the sidewalk. A hand rested on your waist, steadying you.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” he murmured into your ear as he made his way briskly down the street, the sound of the sirens growing louder as the pace quickened. Your heart hammered away in your chest, your breath coming out in quick pants as your group rounded the street corner. You took two more quick turns before being led down a back alley. You could hear shouting from a couple of streets down, and you moved to look over your shoulder before the hand on your arm jerked you.

“Eyes forward, Sugar,” Hangman warned, green eyes boring into you. You clenched your jaw, nostrils flaring as you stared him down. His lips twitched into the hint of a smile before pulling you further into the alley. You watched as the mustached man and the black man whose name you still didn’t know moved to open one of the rusted garage doors, revealing a shiny, black car and a bespectacled man leaning against the hood.

“It’s about time,” he groused, pushing off of the hood and rounding to the driver side door. The mustached man rolled his eyes before jerking his head, watching as Payback and Fanboy rounded the back with the bags. The sound of a crack along with a grunt and thud drew your attention back towards the remaining man. Mr. Jennings was on the ground, still breathing but clearly unconscious. The man looked up at Hangman before gesturing towards you, and your body stiffened in his hold. Hangman whirled you around, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him, your hands trapped between your bodies as he smirked down at you.

“Well, Doll,” he sighed, leaning into you once more, “this is where we part, I’m afraid. Don’t worry, though. I’ll leave you something to remember me by.”

Before the words could register, his lips were on yours. You gasped at the suddenness of it, eyes wide and body unmoving as he pressed further into you. His lips were surprisingly soft, and you felt your cheeks warm at the realization that you enjoyed the sensation. As quickly as he kissed you, he pulled away, grinning from ear to ear. He pulled away just a hair before letting out a forlorn sigh.

“Let’s go, Casanova,” his companion called from his position by the garage door, an exasperated look on his face as he mounted a motorbike. A hand brushed against your cheek, drawing your attention back to the man in front of you.

“Sorry about this, dollface,” he muttered. Your lips had just begun to form a question before a sharp pain radiated from the blow to your temple, the world falling into oblivion around you.

A/N: Y'all, this was a doozy to write. Words cannot express how fucking excited I am to write this fic!!!

If you would like to receive notifications on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @sailoraviator-library ) and turn on post notifications! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. You can find all of my works on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Gojo's s/o ignoring him and not making him sweets after he made them mad? Not in a mean way, they're grumpy but still want him to live longer so they still pack lunch for him. Just no more sweets.

Gojo opened his bento for lunch with his precious students, and frowned immediately when he saw there was no dessert in his lunch box.

For the past few days now, [Y/N] had been mad at him. He couldn’t figure out why and at this point he was too embarrassed/concerned to ask. They acted fairly normal, but the shift in their demeanor had subtly shifted. They would push his arms away when he tried to hug him. They slept on “their side of the bed” instead of in the middle with him like they always do. They hardly texted him at all through out the day other than maintenance text like ‘what do you want for dinner?’ ‘when will you be home?’ ‘pick up milk.’

The kicker though was that they weren’t packing him any treats in his lunch box. [Y/N] knew how much of a sweet tooth Gojo had. They usually thought it was cute. But the past few days he had been without homemade treats, and he had to resort to store bought vending machine snacks to get by.

Still, Gojo ate his bento in its entirety. Because despite the lack of sweets it was still very good and he wouldn’t waste it. When he got home that evening, he decided to take the bull by the horns. Gojo would have to ask what was going on and fall on his sword for an apology.

He just hoped their wasn’t a real sword involved.

“[Y/N], can you tell me what’s wrong?” Gojo asked. Just jumping right in when he came through the door and saw them doing dishes.

“What? What are you talking about?” They weren’t playing dumb. They were literally caught off guard by his question.

“I know something is up. You’ve been distant lately. Cold.” He watched as they put down the sponge with a sigh.

“I’ve been distracted.”

“Too distracted to put snacks in my bento.” Gojo muttered to himself quietly. He knew it was petty, but he needed those sweets to function. “Look, if you just…tell me what’s wrong, I’ll fix it. I’ll apologize. We’ll move on. We’ll go get ice cream.”

“I don’t want ice cream.” ‘Well not everything is about you’ He wanted to say, but was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. “You didn’t do anything. Not…technically.”

Gojo arched a brow. “What does ‘not technically’ mean?” Usually if he did something, he 100% did it and there was no question that he did it. Gojo never claimed to be the model of temperance, patience, or restraint, but he’s also never been ‘kind of in trouble’ for something.

“I’m pregnant.” That left a haymaker in his gut. “It’s why I’ve been distracted. I was trying to figure out what to do and how to tell you, and I guess I thought I was playing it cool. Sorry if you felt left out in the ‘cold’.”

Gojo rubbed his head. Oh shit, he felt bad for that now. But there was an overwhelming feeling coming up inside him. He rushed over to [Y/N] and scooped them in a hug. “Why didn’t you just tell me?!”

“Well…it’s not like we planned this. And I wasn’t sure you wanted kids.”

“What are you talking about?! I love kids!” He was the best teacher in the whole world.

“You love teenagers you only have to spend a few hours a day with.” Fair. “A baby is…different.”

“Yeah, but it’s our baby.” He told them. Leaning in to press their foreheads together.

This was a much surprise than anything he could have hoped for in his lunches. He and his beloved were going to have a baby. There was no sweeter treat than that.

[jeridandridge]

For Lovers At Night part 5

My too much gene kicked in so there’s one more chapter of this fic coming. Enjoy! Previous chapter

The text puts a knife in her chest causing her to let out a sob, hand flying to her mouth to cover it. Getting up she walks with her phone in hand out the hall through the doors breaking down only when she’s outside. Letting the sob escape her throat she doesn’t care that it’s starting to drizzle. Taking several deep breaths she tries to stop crying long enough to call you. As the dial tone rings, Melissa feels like her heart is going to fly out of her chest and not in a good way.

“Hello?” A voice on the other end sighs.

“Hon, can we talk please? I need to talk to you.” Melissa’s voice wobbles as she speaks a mile a minute.

You’d never heard her sound like this, so small and unsure of herself in the time that you’ve known her.

“There’s a lot we have to talk about apparently.” You hum. “I need a bit of time, Melissa.”

“Time?” She asks quietly, “how much time?” She’s all but pleading with you at this point and she doesn’t care how she sounds. “I can’t lose you.” She whispers.

The line goes quiet for a moment until you speak again. “I need to gather my thoughts about everything. I think you owe me that much.”

“Okay,” Melissa takes a deep breath. “Just please don’t shut me out.”

“I’d never do that. I’m not an asshole, Melissa. I’m hurt and I need time. I’ll talk to you soon.”

The call ends and Melissa brings her hands to her face holding in a scream. In a matter of hours her entire life got flipped around in a way she never thought would happen. After a few more minutes outside Melissa breathes trying to calm herself to go back to her kids. Going back inside Abbott she cleans up her desk and tucks the card you sent into her purse before the tears start flowing again.

A couple blocks over you busy yourself cleaning up the store and bar in prep for the night ahead.

“you’ve been cleaning that same spot on the bar for ten minutes.” Your friend and colleague Jacob says coming up beside you.

“I’m- yeah,” you shake your head moving down the slab of granite. “My head is in the clouds.”

“And you don’t have that dopey lovesick smile on your face.” Jacob hums, “was it too soon for flowers?” He winces.

“Considering her husband posted on her Facebook for their anniversary last month, I’m gonna say yeah too soon,” You huff tossing the rag down with a sigh.

“Oh no,” Jacob lets out slow and full of pity.

“Don’t do that, dude. I dont need that right now okay? I need to get through this weekend and figure out what the hell to say to her.”

“How did this all happen?”

Looking at your friend with a sigh you slouch forward crossing your arms.

“I looked her up because she’s so mysterious ya know? I looked and she came up, still has old pictures of him and that damn post on her wall. I don’t know what to think at this point.” You shrug completely confused and hurt.

She definitely wasn’t lying about being with women before, that much you knew and the way she looked at you felt real. She looked at you like she loved you. Talking to her on the phone and hearing the sadness in her voice made you even more conflicted.

“You have feelings for her right?” He asks leaning against the bar.

“I’d be stupid not to wouldn’t I?” you scoff.

“Theres your answer. Hear her out and talk to her when you’re ready.” Jacob advises the only way he knows how.

Thinking about your friend’s words for the rest of the day, you go through the motions at work putting on your best fake smile as you greet and chat with customers. As you cater to your patrons your phone sits on your office desk buzzing with a text chain from Melissa you don’t see until much later.

When you get up to your apartment that night you get ready for bed shuffling over to the mattress feeling almost disgusted with yourself. You slept with a married woman and you had no idea if she was telling the truth or not about how she was treated by her husband. The post you saw online rubbed you the wrong way, you were still friends with enough people from your hometown to know what a bad relationship looks like yet you still didn’t know for sure.

Laying on your back you look at the ceiling with a sigh. Now or never, you grab your phone looking at the long string of texts you have from Melissa.

I know you said you needed time but I need you to know I meant everything I said to you. About my family, work, how I feel about you.

I know I fucked up and I’m so sorry. More sorry than you’ll ever know, Amore.

Please don’t push me away.

Dropping the phone onto your nightstand you turn over curling under your blankets wanting to sleep the day away. Only sleep doesn’t come. Tossing and turning with racing thoughts of the redhead you dissect every moment carefully from when you met up until you kissed her goodbye after your date and every single moment puts a ghost of a smile on your lips. Her still calling you ‘Amore’ in the texts made this even harder for you. Closing your eyes you listen to the raindrops hit your window and thunder rumble in the pitch dark.

At the same time, Melissa is overtired and wanting desperately to sleep but she can’t stop the tears or her thoughts from keeping her body awake. She’s never felt like this before in her entire adult life and she knows it’s her fault. She should have never lied in the first place and she sure as hell should have never let Kristen Marie put her on Facebook.

when Joe posted that message on her page it didn’t effect her, she already knew it was for the show he constantly put on for her family of being a good husband when they are all aware he is anything but. What she hadn’t known was he made it public, and now the thought of losing you and explaining everything to her family makes her chest ache.

The following day for you is strange. When you wake at your usual ten am, it takes everything in you not to grab your phone and send Melissa a good morning text as you’d come accustom to. Instead you lay there for a few minutes enjoying the sound of birds outside along with the usual traffic. Getting up and going about your morning proves difficult for you. Once ready for your day you check the time, realizing Melissa had her lunch break in less than two hours. Picking up the device with a sigh you send a quick message.

Can you meet me the cafe near Abbott during your lunch?

In a classroom not far away Melissa’s heart jumps when she sees her phone light up. Opening it immediately she feels hopeful reading the message, glad her students were in gym at that very moment. Not wanting to test her luck too much she replies with a simple yes I can then gets up practically jogging to Barbara’s classroom.

“Hey, I have to cancel our lunch plans today. She wants to meet at the cafe.” She can’t stop the smile from crossing her lips.

“Melissa, be careful with that woman.” Her best friend warns. “You still have to deal with all the legal proceedings with Joe and your mother.”

Melissa nods shoving her hands in her pockets. “I know, I know that. I just really need to see her Barb.” She shrugs with a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

Barbara looks at her friend in astonishment. “You love this woman.” She comes to the realization. “Go on during lunch, you text me as soon as you get back here.” She points.

As Melissa’s break time approaches you walk the couple blocks to the cafe on the corner, wondering if you’d see her coming from the school from the window. Sitting there waiting you order a water trying to keep your cool while mindlessly scrolling on your phone. As you do you receive a text from Jacob.

Hear her out and remember she’s hurting too

Letting out a sigh you tuck the phone in your pocket. When you lift your head you’re met with the sound of the door chime and green eyes landing on you. Standing up at the table you don’t make a move, gesturing for Melissa to sit across from you.

“Hey,” you let out not breaking eye contact with the woman. Even dressed in her work clothes she was absolutely stunning. “You look as tired as I feel.

“Yeah,” Melissa takes a seat wanting so badly to hug you. “I didn’t really sleep.”

“That makes two of us,” you nod pushing one of the two coffees in front of you forward.

Melissa looks at you with a grateful not picking up the drink. Just how she likes it she thinks.

“So uh, I’ve never had to do this before.” You shrug not sure where to start.

“And I’m not good with the whole feelings thing.” Melissa adds playing with the corner of a napkin. “I know you owe me nothing, but let me explain everything?” She asks softly.

While you were upset, an explanation is exactly what you wanted. Nodding, you urge her to go on.

Taking a breath the redhead fiddles with the napkin between her fingers. “What I told you about him, everything is true. The cheating, the lying, the not caring, it’s all true. We were young and stupid when we got married, and he didn’t wanna miss out on being one of the guys.” She shrugs taking a breath.

“You’re not gonna tell me you two have kids are you?”

“No,” Melissa shakes her head immediately. “No kids, just an overbearing family on my side.” She chuckles. “In fact, my brother and cousins threatened to kill him after they found out he cheated on me the first time.”

Letting out a puff of laughter you shrug. “Can’t blame them. It’s the Italian-American way.”

Melissa ducks her head with a small smile, eyes going to the paper. “Yeah. And I ain’t saying I’m a saint, I cheated when I was a teenager but as an adult? Never did. My marriage started out fine, but a few years in he got sloppy with hiding it. I never cared enough to ask for a divorce because growing up my mother made a big deal about marriage but anyway,” She shrugs it off not wanting to get emotional. “I didn’t think any of it mattered and I wasn’t good enough for anyone else so why go through the hassle?”

Looking over the woman’s features you see a mixture of sadness and pleading in her eyes as she nibbles her bottom lip.

“What changed?” You ask quietly resting your hand on the table almost touching the redheads.

“you made me feel like a woman that was desirable and worth talking to.”

“Melissa, I can’t mess around with a married woman.” You sigh shaking your head. “I meant what I said in that card, I-“ before you can finish your sentence Melissa hits you with another bomb.

“I asked Joe for a divorce.”

Sitting stunned you just blink at her for a moment.

“He was there at the school when those flowers were delivered. Which are beautiful by the way.” The redhead gives a shy smile.

“Well fuck.” You sit back in shock taking in the information.

“Hon, It was the best thing that coulda happened to me, I finally told him how miserable I was and that’s what I needed to do,” Her eyes water, the dam about to break again as her voice turns to a whisper. “And you gave that to me even- even if that means I lose you.”

Extending your fingers you turn your hand, palm up to the redhead, your fingers entwining together a moment later. “You’re not gonna lose me, Mel. I just-“ you sigh, “I need to process everything and I bet you do too.” It had been a strange twenty four hours and you still couldn’t believe the woman you were in love with was still someone else’s wife.

Feeling the warmth and gentle squeeze from Melissa’s hand you lean forward slightly meeting her eyes. “Let’s take things slow, start over.” You suggest.

“I can do that.” The redhead nods. As long as she could keep you that’s all she cared about.

“Okay,” you give her a soft smile gently pulling away. The rest of your short time together comes easy, the awkwardness chipping away as you two sit and talk as you usually did.

Tapping the screen of her watch Melissa sighs knowing the forty five minutes she spent with you wasn’t long enough but would have to do for today.

“Back to the rugrats?” You ask knowing her lunch wasn’t very long.

“Yeah, Barb is getting ‘em from recess for me. I uh, thank you for talkin to me, hon.”

“I’d never ghost you or ignore you, Mel.” You shake your head leading her out the door of the cafe. “I really, really like you. I meant that. Now we can just pump the breaks a bit yeah? You and your family are going through a lot now.”

“Yeah,” Melissa lets out in a puff of laughter. “I can’t wait to be interrogated by my ma and Nana later at dinner.”

“In that case I’d say that’s punishment enough.” you chuckle putting your hands in your pockets, still a bit of space between you two as you stand there on the sidewalk. “Well, I’ll see you later, Mel.”

“Can- hon, can I have a hug?” She asks almost unsure of herself.

Unable to say no to the woman you step forward wrapping one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist in a warm embrace. Closing your eyes you take in the feel of her body, her signature smell, how her hands feel playing with the back of your jacket.

“Thank you, Amore.” She whispers, most definitely needing the loving touch as much as you did. The redhead pulls back first, giving you that shy smile that has just the corner of her lips up slightly.

“I’ll see you soon.” You assure her, knowing that you really couldn’t stay away from her long, especially now.

In the Schemmenti household a weekly dinner happens at Nanas house, and this week was no different except when Melissa pulls up with a large tray of ziti she only sees her parent’s car in the driveway. Coming into the house with the tray she smells food cooking and her nana talking, that was a good sign.

“Is a hit happening?” She pokes her head into the kitchen.

“My mia Cara!”

Maria Schemmenti crosses the kitchen going right to her granddaughter kissing her cheeks and taking the tray from her. “Come sit, food is almost done.”

Even though she’s up in years the oldest redhead that Melissa took after the most in looks and actions moves swiftly going back to her many dishes on the stove.

“Hey kiddo, you okay?” Johnny Schemmenti was a no nonsense guy, always ready to jump into action for his family especially his mini me Melissa. Sharing the same green eyes the two hug and Johnny places a kiss to his daughter’s head.

“Ya know what dad? I’m better than I’ve ever been.” She smiles moving to sit back down with her dad. “Ma looks pissed.” She says quietly watching the blonde woman move around the kitchen.

“Hi, ma.” The youngest redhead calls out getting no reaction from the woman.

“Melissa I will speak to you when I’m done helping your nana.”

“Caterina don’t give that girl the cold shoulder.” Nana points at her.

“That’s okay, Nana. I’m the only one here so apparently I’m in for an ambush. Did you put the hole in the backyard, Ma or is it somewhere else?”

Johnny has to bite back a laugh hiding his proud smirk with his beer bottle.

“Melissa this isn’t an ambush. I’m only wondering why you had to cause a scene instead of telling us you weren’t happy.”

“Mi stai prendendo per il culo,” Melissa huffs.

“Melissa Ann!” Caterina snaps.

“If this is how dinners gonna go tonight I’m outta here. I don’t need all this. Nana, dad, I’m sorry I’ll see you on Sunday.” She gets up kissing her dad’s cheek, grabbing her purse as she goes.

“Sit back down, Tesoro. Your mother means well but she ain’t going about it the right way.” Maria shoots her daughter in law a look that gets a huff from the blonde.

Melissa listens to her Nana, sitting back down next to her dad. Elbows on the table she covers her face with her hands taking a breath feeling like she’s a little kid that was caught and is now getting in trouble.

“Look you wanna know what happened? Joe cheated on me for years, did ya know that? That weekend the guys had the cops called on them and I had to sweet talk the cop? Yeah, they were ready to kill him. We done here now?” Melissa lets out with a challenging look to her mother.

That night almost ten years ago had been a rough one. A bunch of the cousins rented a house in the Poconos and the long weekend in the summer heat ended with Joe taking off on a four wheeler and Johnny Junior having his hand stitched up in the cabins kitchen after a drunk Joe made a joke about another woman he was seeing. Junior and the cousins scared him good, eventually the cops came ruining the weekend for Melissa.

“The boys knew this whole time?” Caterina asks quietly.

“Of course they did. So did Barb, and Nana.” She nods to her grandmother taking a breath.

Melissa’s mother looks at the oldest woman with an agape mouth.

“Mel, we want you to be happy. You happy with splitting from Joe?” Johnny asks his daughter.

“I can’t put into words how happy I am, pops.” She shrugs with a small smile.

“See, Cat? That’s all I need to know.” He nods to his wife, getting up to get the plates for the table.

“At your wedding I knew he was no good.” Maria shakes her head. “The negativity sheds off of him like his hair does.”

Melissa chuckles staying put as her parents move about the kitchen setting the table. As they do, Maria comes over kissing the top of her head.

“Mia Cara, when we’re done you make a plate and take it to your new friend. Give her a sneak peek of family dinners.”

The redhead looks at the matriarch of the family with a warm smile knowing her Nana would understand everything that Joe told the family.

As Melissa has dinner with her family you move around your apartment cleaning up and ordering groceries as you usually do on your days off. Seeing Melissa that afternoon was nice and you knew as soon as you saw her the anger you felt would lessen. You were upset but not so much with her. Now you were upset with her husband and how he treats her.

If her being free of him and the cage she felt trapped in meant you had to feel bad for those few hours from finding out to the moment you met up with her for lunch then so be it. You were tempted to text her an invite to come over for the night to decompress and talk more. As you leave your apartment and hop down the stairs to the alleyway out back to get rid of your garbage you see a car you do not recognize parked almost blocking the alley, and a man getting out of the car.

A man you recognize as Joe.

[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Six

okie so I might have lied about getting this done today. But here it is! I honestly loved writing this chapter, cause it's fun to write the dynamic between Wooyoung and y/n

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader  Summary: Y/n meets the omegas of Skz, and then has dance practice with Yunho and San! wc: 1.4k AU: a/b/o  Genre: Fluff/Angst  Nets: @newworldnet warnings: yelling, lots of yelling, Woo being dramatic, lots of cursing because yes, derogatory language (whore), angst, and I think that's it?? lemme know if I need to add any other warnings! masterlist

“Where are we going, Wooyoung-ssi?” Y/n asked the idol as she was dragged out of the company.

“I already told you! We’re going to meet up with Han and Felix!” Wooyoung told her, like it was common sense.

The slightly taller man, by like maybe an inch, pulled her behind him as they walked, or were dragged in y/n’s case, down the road to the next block, where a quiet cafe sat. The two omegas entered, finding it almost void of people, except for two people sitting in the back. Wooyoung lit up once he saw the two, almost sprinting towards the two of them, y/n along for the ride once again.

“You’re here!” He shouted, gaining their attention. 

“Wooyoung-hyung!” One of the two called out to him, pulling his mask off to reveal a smile on his face.

The older omega pulled y/n down with him into the empty chairs, before introducing her to the idols in front of her. “Han, Felix, this is y/n. She’s one of the auditionees for the ninth member of Ateez. I may have stolen her from practice.”

Felix ignored Wooyoung’s words for the most part. “ Hi y/n, I’m Felix. Though I have a feeling you already knew that. It’s really nice to meet you regardless.” He smiled at y/n, and she couldn’t help but smile in return, it was contagious.

“Yah! Felix, don't go stealing my omega! She’s mine. Not yours.” Wooyoung intervened as he watched the two of them. He was not letting the Stray Kids steal her from him, even if he loved the two younger omegas. Y/n was his, and if he had his way, she’d be their ninth member. He didn’t want anyone else, despite not having seen any of her skills. But Hongjoong looked pleased with her, so that means something good. And unless she had no rhythm and two left feet, they could teach her to dance.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you y/n.” Han said, a bit shyer than either Wooyoung or Felix. Which was fine with the sole female omega in the group of four, as she didn’t mind another quieter person. She had enough loud people with just the man next to her. 

“How are you both?” She asked them, knowing they have a comeback coming up, she’s a Stay too, there was no way not to be a StayTiny with the friendship between the two groups.

“I’m good! Busy, but good.” Felix replied, smiling at her still. Han nodded along, focused on his phone. He seemed to be reading something on his phone. She didn’t mind, it was probably Stray Kids related, which is totally fair, she may not understand it like Wooyoung probably did, but she could understand being busy because of an upcoming event.

“You guys have a comeback coming up, right? How’s the preparation for that going?” She asked them, “And no pressure if you can’t say anything, I get it.”

“Ah yeah, we’re not really supposed to say much about it. Sorry.” Felix said, apologizing.

“No apologies needed, I figured as much, but still wanted to ask. I know comebacks are secretive and such. Well outside of what is shared with fans in the lead up to release day.” She replied, nodding her head.

Suddenly, fingers were squeezing her cheek. “You’re so cute, I just wanna eat you.” Wooyoung said from right next to her.

“Please don’t eat me, I don’t think we need a news article about you secretly being some sort of cannibal.” 

“I- yah! I am not a cannibal!” Wooyoung cried.

“Then why do you want to eat me? Besides, it could be worse, you could be a kidnapping cannibal. Oh wait, you are.” Y/n jokes, suddenly having a burst of confidence.

That sparked laughter from Felix and Han, causing y/n to laugh as well, as Wooyoung looked at all of them and pouted.

“I thought we were friends.” The eldest man whined, crossing his arms as the three omegas continued giggling.

“You’re so fucking mean. This isn’t fair. How dare you corrupt my baby!” He continued to whine.

“They met me thirty minutes ago, how did they corrupt me? And when did I become your baby?” Y/n questioned, looking at the omega next to her in confusion.

“They just did! And when I met you, duh.” Wooyoung said, like it was common knowledge.

“Wooyoung, you’re an idiot.” Felix said, in a very deadpan way.

“Felix, we gotta go. Chan needs us back at the company.” Han interrupted, looking back and forth between Felix and his phone.

There were many awws, but Felix and Han rose up out of their seats.

“Next time, we’ll make sure to have free time so we can chat? And we’ll get your number off of Wooyoung!” Felix promised y/n as they left the cafe.

“Awwww, I thought we’d get longer with the two of them.” Wooyoung pouted once again.

“Well, they are prepping for a comeback next month, I don’t expect them to not be busy.” She said, knowing that these times would be busy, and was surprised they managed to get any free time at all, being weeks away from a comeback.

“I don’t wanna go back yet.” Wooyoung just wouldn’t stop whining, though he was interrupted by his phone ringing.

“What Hongjoong-hyung?” The omega said.

“I don’t wanna come back. And why does she have to practice?”

“Fine. But you owe me a coffee.” Wooyoung said as he hung up the phone. “I’m supposed to bring you back now. They’re all finished for the day, but you still have to practice, so Sannie and Yunho are staying late to watch you. I’m not allowed to stay because I’ll just kidnap you again apparently.” He told her.

He got up out of the chair he was in, sulking as the female omega got up as well, and continued to sulk as they left the cafe, heading back to KQ. He grumbled about how unfair it was that he wasn’t allowed to stay and watch her dance, that he wasn’t allowed to stay at the company while she was practicing.

This grumbling continued all the way to the door of the practice room. She rolled her eyes at Wooyoung’s grumbling, and pushed open the door herself, brushing past the elder omega. She bowed once she was in the room, apologizing for her lateness, “I’m sorry I didn’t show up on time.” 

“Don’t worry about it, once Hongjoong-hyung told us it was Wooyoung, we knew we wouldn’t get you back on time.” San waved off her apology, “You’re here now, that’s what matters.”

“What Sannie-ah said.” Yunho agreed, before continuing, “Now, are you ready to practice? Other than warming up?” He asked her, to which she nodded.

“Okay, then let’s warm up.” The tall alpha smiled at her, as they both started warming up with her, helping her through the stretches they did in order to prepare for their rigorous choreography.

Yunho then led her through the entirety of Guerilla, before moving onto Halazia, having her fill in Yeosang’s parts, as he thought she fit them best, besides Hongjoong’s as well. Once he deemed her Halazia run throughs perfect, he let her take a break, and y/n collapsed onto the hardwood floor.

“How the fuck do you do all of these songs back to back at concerts holy fucking hell.” She said through many breaths and attempts, as she was still trying to catch her breath.

“Lots of training and stamina. You have to get some more.” San said as he sat on the ground next to her head.

“San’s correct. That’s the thing you have to work on, it seems. Plus some more practice on the footwork for dance breaks. You fall behind in them, compared to San when you two danced together.” Yunho told her, letting her know what she needed to work on. She took all of the comments in, knowing she wasn’t perfect, and wanting to work to get better. Plus, Yunho was kind as he told her what needed work versus what was almost perfect.

Unbeknownst to them, someone was watching the three of them sit and chat after this, and security really should have done a better job at ensuring the rules were followed, as they snapped photos of the three’s closeness.

“The fucking whore, fucking omega thinking she’s better than everyone else because of her subgender. Let’s see how the public feels about how close you are to them, when you haven't even been picked yet.” They whispered to themselves, before walking away with a ticking time bomb in their hand.

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