#1460 words

[deepestnightcolor]

Hi :3

Got a little request,

How do you think Harveys 4th heart event would have ended if there was a bit more steamy tension?

ᴀ/ɴ: And we are back in the doctor's office! It is your lucky day, dear anon, because the doctor's in! I hope you can enjoy this little smut, love! Thank you so much for your time and your request!

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Harvey (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 1460 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: medical misconduct (again! :D), seductive reader, dirty talk, praise kink (figure out who has the praise kink, haha), oral (afab!receiving)

☾ ᴘʀᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ɪꜱ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ☽

Genuine surprise could be seen on his face when he saw you, his moustache twitching nervously. “Oh! I was just about- about-“ He stumbled as he tried to stand from his rolling chair, which promptly betrayed him by scooting backward with his abrupt movement. He cleared his throat, and finally, he dared to look at you again. “I was just about to write you a letter so I could…So I could remind you of your check-up, you know…Because your health is important.”

You smiled at Harvey – wasn’t he just so cute? Always so worried about the whole community, and ever since you had begun growing closer, it seemed he was especially worried about you. It made you want to bite into him; it made you want to have him bite into you. The idea of getting this professional, genuinely good-hearted man in such lewd positions made your heart skip a beat, and an idea pop into your head.

Visiting Harvey today had been nothing but a mere coincidence, but now you were sitting on the stool in front of the doctor, allowing him to measure your pulse on your outstretched arm. Him hovering over you like this made your mouth water. You could see the focused look on his face as he felt your heartbeat, his lower lip dragged between his teeth. You wondered how he looked when he got to taste you. Wondered how his tongue would feel against your clit when his hands on you already felt so, so soft.

“Your pulse is a little high,” Harvey suddenly mused, brow cocked. He was obviously waiting for you to give him a reason for how that could be. As if he didn’t know what he was doing to you. “Oh, I think that’s because…,” you began, licking over your lips right after, which led your doctor to tilt his head. “Because?” “Because I am imagining how you would look between my legs.” Silence. Harvey’s eyes stared down at you, cheeks of a flustered red colour. His mouth was open, as he tried to find the right words. It seemed he was frozen, giving you enough time to act. You placed your hand on his chest, letting your thumb trace a pattern into the softness of his dress shirt. Fluttering your lashes at him, you gave him a gentle sigh. “I simply think you would look so pretty between my legs…That you would treat me so well.” Your words were laced with dramatics, coated in honey to make him cave. The brunet’s lower lip was quivering, his eyes wandering from your hands to your chest, down to your cushy soft thighs. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist, pressing their pads to the inside of your arm. “Seems like your pulse is a little high now…” you trailed off, biting your lip. “Are you thinking about what’s beneath my skirt?” His mouth was still hanging open, so you leaned back on your chair, flipping the fabric of your skirt upwards. The panties you were wearing were nothing short of skimpy, cute little strawberries trying to cover the fact that you left pretty much nothing up for imagination. He could see your outer lips through the white, especially now that your sweet juices had leaked on the fabric. His tongue darted out, to wetten his lips, pretending that his mouth wasn’t as dry as the desert. “You could taste it, Harv. Have it all for yourself, how does that sound?” You felt his pulse pounding under your finger now, his cheeks almost radiating heat with how red they were. He didn’t answer you, he instead took off his dress jacket, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his strong arms.  He dropped to his knees before you could say something, tugging the unnecessary piece of underwear down your thighs, neatly folding them before he put them to the side. Your breath hitched when a gentle kiss was pressed to your lips, before the tip of a tongue gently, carefully parted them open. The low moan that came from between your soft thighs bled into your own, the feeling of the wet muscle against your skin sending a shock of excitement down your spine.

“That’s good, isn’t it? Pretty face up my pussy, right where it belongs.” You heard how he inhaled deeply, felt how he nuzzled his face further into your pretty cunt, felt his moustache brushing against you. Your thighs twitched against his ears, and Yoba, how Harvey wanted to worship you. Perfect, pretty, beautiful girl.

His tongue licked through your folds slowly in an attempt to savour all these sweet tastes that danced on it. His eyes were closed as far as you could see behind the fogged-up classes, but still, his face was one of pure delight.

“Taste so good,” he murmured, your cunt now obviously serving as a muffler for his voice. Your hand in his hair made him shiver, long fingers curling around waves of brown. You tugging him in closer was granted with great appraisal, the doctor moaned into you as his nose pressed against your sloppy cunt. You were so sweet on his tongue and with each lick, he knew he was becoming addicted.

“That’s a good boy,” you cooed, gasping as he sucked on you, lapping at you faster now. His eyes looked up at you in search of approval, making you chuckle quietly in between the rewarding moans that spilled out of your mouth. “You like- oh fuck, yes, my clit, lick my clit, good boy!” The brunet nodded eagerly, pressing the tip of his tongue against the bundle of nerves, then giving it one, flat lick, just to circle it and suckle on it.

Your head fell backward, eyes slipping closed as the man found a pace that made your cunt gush with wetness, your toes curling in your worn-out sneakers. “Yes! That’s good, Harvey- Ohhh, Yoba! Don’t stop! Come on, pretty boy, how ‘bout you fuck me with your fingers, too?”

Harvey, ever the good boy, didn’t need to be told twice. His finger burying itself knuckle-deep inside you made your world spin. Harvey’s green-brown eyes stared up at you, lips sealed around your clit, his finger fucking into you at a matching pace.

The way you moaned for him; praised him; it all made him so incredibly hard. With great shame, he realized that he was close himself; that there would be a wet spot forming at the front of his brown pants simply because your moans were so pretty and your cunt was so tasty.

Your breathing was starting to become laboured, working out of you in heavy, fast pushes. Harvey wouldn’t have needed his knowledge of the human body to know that you were getting close, seeing how your face was one of a pleasure-driven focus. He decided to be bold, adding a second finger to twist them inside of you, just to be rewarded by the bucking of your hips. Your fingers tightened in his hair, which led to his breath hitching in his throat.

“Yes, pretty boy! Gonna make me cum- fuck, don’t stop. Be good, don’t stop,” you rambled, holding the doctor’s face in place so you could grind against it. For a second, Harvey was overwhelmed, yet he wanted to please you. It was his duty to please you. He stuck out his tongue to catch whatever juices you could offer as you used his face to get off, bucking your hips aimlessly against the source of pleasure.

“Harvey!” You cried out, back arching in. You had an iron grip on him now, making sure there was no chance of escape as your orgasm flooded you. Your cunt gushed around his fingers, clit throbbing against his tongue as you gasped out his name. The whimper from beneath you was easily ignored in your bliss, especially given that Harvey was still fucking his fingers inside of you, taking you through your orgasm with the utmost care.

Only when you gently shoved him away did he actually stop licking and suckling at you, his face covered in your glistening wet. Drops had even been caught in his usually neatly combed moustache, which now was ruffled out of place.

You gave him a breathless smile, running your fingers through your hair. “Fuck…That was good, Harvey. So good,” you praised, allowing your eyes to slip close.

“Was it really?” His voice was barely above a whisper, eyes trained on the sloppy wetness he had left behind.

“It was… But I mean – we can always practice more,” you winked. You had underestimated Harvey the perfectionist, who spread your legs with the nudge of his shoulders, tongue already lapping up the mess he had created before you could stop him.

[katyawriteswhump]

(You’re just) too good to be true 

For @astrangersummer week 3 prompts, flowers and/or hugs. Thanks to bananas and yesdanger on discord for the extra prompts to get me going. I have tried to get as many in as possible. 

Summary: Steve wakes up in hospital after everything is over and can’t quite believe how well everything has turned out…

Rating: T. WC: 1460   CW: None. Other tags: Steddie, platonic stobin, angst, sickfic, hurt/comfort, temporary amnesia, fix-it fic, everybody lives.

…

Steve flutters his eyes open and spies Robin sitting by his bed. Mascara streams down her face, and her hair’s a literal disaster zone.

“Steve! You’re awake!” She grabs his hand. “You’re gonna be okay. The doctor should be here any minute.”

Doctor!?! Where the heck am I?

His throat proves too dry for words. Robin garbles way too fast for him to understand and she’s wringing his fingers ever tighter.

If she’s touching me, I guess it can't be rabies.

His memory triggered, the shitshow slams back. First, the bats, the bites. Then everything that happened after, until they journeyed again into the Upside Down to try to kill Vecna.

Oh hold on, scratch that. 

To fail to kill Vecna.

Staring blankly through Robin, he fixates on the terrible parts. Eddie lying bloodied and dead in Dustin’s arms. Dustin sobbing his eyes out. Max was pretty much lost too, and Vecna was alive, gone to ground, and…

What happened next? Why am I in a hospital bed? Jesus, I was fine! 

There’s one of those IV thingies in his arm. He shivers though can’t tell if he’s cold or hot. The doctor arrives, jostles him, talks at him, shines lights in his eyes. He’s not in pain, but his brain is all woolly, and he’s confused and weak and lost.

He needs a hug more than ever in his life. Robin peeps at him over the doctor’s shoulder, bouncing like a spooked bunny-rabbit, then she’s gone.

It’s all too much.

He quits, sinking back into the darkness.

…

When Steve next pries an eyelid open, he spies Eddie breezing into the hospital room. Eddie joins Robin, who has moved to the window to pick at her nail polish.

Eddie is gone, which means… Oh, no, no, no, no, no! I’m dead too? Or dreaming?

His throat is achy and tight. He closes his eyes again, hot tears welling. More memories trickle back.

“Make him pay,” Eddie had said.

He recalls that last, lingering look between them. The one that slammed him like a freight train, because... Wtf? For some strange reason, that moment doesn’t feel like the end of a story anymore.

It feels like a beginning. Which is just dumb. 

Eddie is no more.

He peeps again, watching a dude who is very definitely Eddie pouring bottled water into a vase of flowers on the windowsill. Robin seizes the bottle from him: “What are you doing, shit-bird? Those are silk—his mom brought them. They don’t need water.”

“Riiiight.” Eddie pulls a silly face, which Steve finds freakish levels of adorable. Suddenly, he wants to crush Eddie to him, tell him that he’s insanely happy he’s here, even if this is some crazy dreamworld, and…

… he wants to shove his tongue into Eddie’s mouth and kiss him stupid.

Huh?

Steve licks dry lips. Most bewildering of all, he somehow knows how awesome kissing Eddie is. As if they’ve done it before.

More than once.

Eddie sneezes dramatically. “If those flowers are fake, I’m allergic to WASP chintz. Which checks out, I guess.”

Robin laughs, though it’s sad and nervy. He catches a glimpse of Eddie’s bambi eyes, and they’re anxious, haunted, too. Then Lucas and Max walk in.

MAX? She’s in a coma!

Steve’s head throbs miserably from trying to make sense of this mad place. 

He quits and drifts back to the darkness.

…

When he next peeps, Robin and Eleven are sitting by his bed, sharing a packet of cool ranch doritos. 

Which makes less sense than ANY OF IT.

Robin’s gotten real picky lately about sharing food. At least, with anybody but him. He’s vaguely pissed, because these two hardly know each other. The way they’re huddled on the same chair, like close buddies, suggests otherwise.

Yeah, he’s vaguely pissed. And kinda jealous. He sort of hates himself for being needy... but he really wants that hug. 

Then another memory flashes back. Some alien desert landscape, with Eleven blasting Vecna with everything she’s got. Eddie sprinting toward him—tailed by what looks like a medium-to-large demogorgon with at least a dozen extra flailing limbs—and Robin yelling, “Steve! El’s got this—help Eddie!”

He finally forces his eyes wide enough for them to see he’s watching. “R-Robin?” he croaks.

“Steve!” She leaps to her feet, nearly knocking El and the chair flying. “You’re really, actually awake this time? Please say yes.”

There’s noise and confusion. The doctor arrives again, checks Steve’s vitals, then bitches that there’s too many kids in the room: “It should be family only,” she says.

“We’re his family,” argues Robin. “His parents only come during official visiting hours.”

Robin is allowed to remain. She helps him sip water, and then he says, “Look, I think was dreaming earlier, or off my head on meds, because I saw you with Eddie, and I know that’s impossible, because…” He swallows hard, mumbles the hateful words: “He's gone, right?”

“Oh my God, you don’t remember?”

“Jesus, Robin! Remember what?”

“We won, Steve. Everyone lived. We even got Crissy back. Vecna’s the only one who’s history. If you hadn’t got hurt, it would’ve been the perfect revenge.”

This time, he manages to take more of her story in. He gets lost in the part where Robin and Dustin figure out time travel—some crazy shit about the proximity of alternate dimensions causing rumples in the space-time continuum. The rest of her tale unleashes a slew of badass memories that squish all the terrible ones into the dirt. Instead of Eddie being dead, he recalls…

“You and Eddie totally slayed this nasty-ass demo-squid-monster,” says Robin. “It got pretty intense, and when you survived, you had, like, an EPIC hug. Aaaand might’ve kissed. Then, later, you threw yourself at Eddie to save him from flying debris, then you rolled into a crater, and he wound up on top, and…”

Steve suddenly recalls that moment vividly. Eddie straddled his hips, and his own hands landed not entirely accidentally on Eddie’s butt. Once they’d gathered their breaths, Eddie leaned forward, swiped hair from his face, and whispered:

“About what you said to Wheeler. If you still want to win her back, that’s fine, I’ll back off, but… just so you know, six kids is cool with me, Stevie. Not like we need to adopt. When you’re around, they simply rock up.”

“So, yeah,” Robin says, ripping Steve from these mind-blowing revelations, “it took us half a dozen attempts to get things right. In the final boss-fight, it was just you, me, Eleven and Eddie. We were lost in the Upside Down for weeks, before we exploded Vecna into a billion disgusting pieces. Because you're you, you were closest, got caught in the blast. You lost a lot of blood, but all important appendages are still present and correct, including, um… any important appendages you were particularly worried about. Not that I’m saying you were, but… Ugh!” She facepalms. “This so isn’t where I meant to go with that.”

He faintly smirks. “You dug that hole, not me, Buckley.”

“No need to gloat. You’re gonna be fine. Everyone is going to be just fine.”

It’s still too much to take in. One question bugs him the most: “Eddie and me, erm… How far did we..?”

“I didn’t stand there and count the bases, Dingus! He’ll be back in five. Ask him. But, you know, there was talk of picking out rings, getting matching tats and—”

“You’re kidding?”

“A bit. Seriously, by the third week, you two seemed chill. Happy. I really hope you remember it all soon.”

He takes a beat. Warmth pools in his chest, because everything Robin says sure as heck feels true. He gives her hand a little pulse, and their fingers intertwine.

“Robin,” he says. “At the risk of sounding downbeat, it’s all a bit too perfect. I’m kinda worried I’m dead.”

“Oh! You’re really, really not. I’m all sticky and gross 'cos I was here all night, but… would a hug help?”

He nods, levers himself up a little, suppressing a wince at the effort. He wraps the arm unencumbered by the IV around her, and she awkwardly cuddles him. He rests his cheek on her bony shoulder, and breathes deeply, while she rubs juddering circles in his back.

She’s sweaty and clumsy and real.

“You’re not dead, I promise,” she whispers. “If you were, I’d be so mad with you, after all that effort to fix things. Besides, you still got hurt, and we were all out of time travel opportunities. Long story. Anyhow, it's been hell, till the doctors said you’d be okay, and even then… We’ve been so scared.”

Her trembling shakes through him. He tries not to sniffle, but he can't seem to help it. Everyone survived. Eddie’s alive. Eddie and he are…

His heart gives a crazy squeeze that says everything he needs to know.

“As soon as you’re out of here,” whispers Robin, “this summer is gonna be the best ever.”

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

[cottonlemonade]

can i have a menu a with a soda and dorayaki and sit next to oikawa!!!

Keeping Your Enemy Close

word count: 1460 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: rival!Oikawa x chubby!Reader (feat. Seijoh 4)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: fluffy, school festival with rival Oikawa

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“No.”

“But-”

“Never, actually.”

Oikawa pouted, “Iwa-chan.” and then looked to Makki and Mattsun who immediately developed an immense interest in their shoes and surroundings. The four third years were busy leaning against a rickety folding table underneath a banner advertising the volleyball club, but even though many girls came over to check it out, boys seemed to make a wide swerve around them. They had only gotten three possible new applicants thus far.

“What do you think, Oikawa-san?”

The boys groaned when, with a wide smile and a flourish, Oikawa turned to yet another girl who had asked. She was nervously kneading her hands and blushing furiously. They knew her as a new addition to his fanclub, but to be honest they started to blend together for the other three. All gorgeous and leggy, she was definitely the captain’s usual type. Oikawa leaned in to whisper something in her ear they luckily couldn’t hear, then the girl gasped quietly and nodded before linking her arm with her friend and wandering off, throwing longing gazes over her shoulder at the setter, who waved after her.

“I think I’ll give it another week and then I’ll ask her out.”, he said, half to himself, half to his friends who quite frankly, couldn’t care less.

But a loud scoff came from their left and the boys turned to see their chubby class president with folded arms next to a stall handing out flyers.

“Something the matter, y/n-chan?”, Oikawa asked sweetly.

“Don’t call me that.”, you said automatically but the boy only grinned and regarded you with his signature teasing gaze.

“But you seem to like it, hm? Y/n-chan~ Now, what’s wrong?”

You clutched the flyers in your hands tighter in an attempt to control your breathing. “I just pity her, that’s all.”, you said after calming your heart a bit.

“Hm? Is that so? Are you sure it’s not because you want to go out with me?”

You knew you would get in trouble if someone reported you smacking him over the head with the flyers - again. So you resorted to glaring menacingly.

Because you didn’t have an answer.

Because you wanted nothing more, actually, than to have Oikawa Tooru notice you like that and ask you out.

But you would never tell him.

Instead you changed the subject and focused on the only thing that grounded your sanity.

“Tuck in your shirt before I write you up.”

Oikawa sighed and did as he was told, making very sure to slightly lift the shirt first to give you a glimpse of his toned stomach. He smirked when your lips parted slightly at the sight.

“So how about it, y/n-chan?”, he asked while carefully straightening out his uniform, “Should I take you out for a date? We could go to a park, maybe hold hands if you're nice to me and if you’re really nice to me I might even consider giving you a kiss or two.” He winked. He enjoyed this game way too much.

Iwaizumi, Mattsun and Makki had stepped aside, getting out of the way of your wrath.

“I would never.”, you held tighter onto the flyers for support, hoping your voice wouldn’t fail you as you went on, “I would never go out with someone as vain and arrogant and immature as you. You’re nothing but a volleyball obsessed gymnasium-dweller who happened to have slightly above average looks.”

Oikawa took that personally. He only stared wide eyed as you stomped away.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned to Mattsun as he shrugged, ”Well at least she thinks you’re handsome.”

Iwaizumi frowned, “That’s what you got from that?”

Oikawa knew you didn’t mean it. At this point, he could tell the difference between someone genuinely despising his guts and someone who was only trying to hide their true feelings. To be honest, you weren’t on his mind outside of school and even then he mostly drifted off while you made announcements in front of the class. To him you were just there, clearly in denial about your crush on him because of course he felt your eyes on him when you thought he wasn’t looking. Maybe he would go out with you, he thought. If only to prove a point. He wanted you to be putty in his hands and confess that you were into him, just so he could go a day without getting written up for things like untucking his shirt or kissing behind the gym.

He watched you weave your way through the masses of students and parents, all happily chattering and checking out the different offers from the stands at the school festival. And making up his mind, he went after you.

He found you in an empty classroom, carefully putting some kind of announcement on the blackboard, your hand steady, writing neat and precise.

“Can I talk to you for a moment, y/n-chan?”

He heard you sigh before turning to him.

“What is it?”

He stepped in, closing the door behind him to mute the distant voices of students hurrying through the corridors.

Leaning against the only exit, arms crossed in front of his chest, he said, “I wasn’t kidding, you know. About taking you on a date.”

You made some kind of sound that was probably supposed to be a scathing one but instead came out as a squeaky sort of cough. Pushing off the door he swaggered over to you until he was standing right behind you. You hadn’t looked at him yet.

“Hm? Y/n? What do you say? Wanna go on a date with me?”

His voice was low and sweet - he knew this particular tone usually made his girlfriends melt and he was glad to see that it worked on you as well. He extended a hand to half trap you between him and the blackboard for good measure. Goosebumps formed on your neck and when you finally turned around to him, there was a very distinct blush dusting your cheeks in stark contrast to your sour expression, the desperate attempt of returning his sweetness with disgust.

“Stop it, Oikawa-san.”

“Or what?” He leaned down to meet your eyes, leaving only two or three handwidths between your face and his. He could smell your shampoo. It was a pleasant scent, eucalyptus maybe.

When you didn’t say anything but the pink on your cheeks turned a deeper shade he leaned in further. He felt your shaky shallow breath on his skin.

When he didn’t budge, you closed your eyes and… seemed to wait.

Oikawa couldn’t help it and chuckled. Your eyes shot open and you watched as he lowered his head before throwing it back in full on laughter.

“I knew it! I knew it, y/n-chan.”, he sing-songed, not moving away, “Next time you write me up just-“

He was cut off but your lips on his. It was nothing more than a quick peck but it definitely shut him up.

You must have worn some kind of lip gloss or chapstick - the kiss left a faintly fruity taste behind.

He blinked. What was that?

And you were about to duck away when his free hand held you by your waist and he leaned in for a second kiss, catching you by surprise this time. It was again a sweet, innocent kind of kiss, only gently touching the other’s lips. When he moved away he searched your eyes for a moment and you held your breath when he went for a third. Closing his eyes, he really let himself get a feel and sense for you. The hand previously laid against the blackboard now cupped your cheek to draw you closer. He swiped his tongue against your lower lips and gently pushed into your mouth. He tasted the tangerine ramune that stood next to your notes on the teacher’s desk. This didn’t make any sense. It was not the tangerine that made him dizzy. You were… addictive. How?

Propelled by some unknown bravery your hands ran through his hair, drawing an involuntary hum from deep in his throat. His large hand on your waist squeezed and he moved in closer, needing to feel more. But before he could conduct further studies you pushed him away, panting slightly - your lips reddened and hair a little disheveled. He was too stunned to stop you when you weaseled out of his arms and ran out the door.

“Oikawa-san?”, he heard a familiar voice call from the corridor, “Oh, Oikawa-san, there you are. Do you want to come have some lunch with me?”

It was the girl from earlier. “Coming.”, he said quietly, absentmindedly and followed her, still tasting tangerines.

a/n: thank you so so much for your request! This one got so away from me. I hope you enjoyed it tho 🌟

[sstardustt3]

“Sorry you have reached a number that is disconnected or is no longer in service.” -falsettos fanfic

Authors note- uhhh this is kinda trashy because I made it in like 15 minutes without editing

Word count- 1.149k

Warnings- angst, canonical character death, Marvin needs a therapist that isn’t Mendel, post act 2, implied character death, Marvin’s giddy seizures references, suicidal thoughts, seriously someone get him a psychiatrist

Summary- Marvin thinks about him and whizzer, he comes to the realization that his memory of whizzer is fading.

-requests for fics and hcs are always welcome-

.

.

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It had been two months.

Or exactly 1460 hours since whizzer had left permanently. 840 hours since he saw his lover lowered into the ground, buried underneath hot soil. It was sunny that day, the sun beamed down on the back of his neck causing sweat to form and trickle onto the inside part of the collar of the white button up.

Marvin hated the Sun, he always preferred the rain. Cold wet rain made him feel less alone, the pitter patter as the rain hit the ground or the window brung him comfort. The sun didn’t. But whizzer liked the sun; he liked both actually, but above all weather conditions he loved the sun. He remembered asking him about it once, said something about how the heat from it gave him a dopamine rush. He remembered whizzer sounding-

His thought ended there. He searched for words to describe how he sounded on that day, but he could barely do it. The sound of his voice was faint like a memory from when your three. Marvin stood still. Completely frozen as he tried desperately to remember.

“C’mon…c’mon…”

Whizzer, whizzer, whizzer, whizzer.

He searched his mind desperately for every memory he and whizzer had to remember what he sounded like. It hadn’t been that long had it? No no, whizzer wasn’t gone. Whizzer was still here in memory, he had to remember or else whizzer would be gone. He would’ve lost whizzer forever. There would be no salvation for it.

Marvin’s body started to attempt to move, but he couldn’t. In fact, when he tried to, he immediately lost his balance and almost fell if it wasn’t for the wall. He’d been like this for a while, he’d been used to the muscle atrophy at this point. It had been happening even before whizzer got hospitalized. He did what he normally did, dragged his foot, forced himself to move desperately the tingling sensation and numbness.

He slumped to the ground as soon as he reached the small wooden table that his phone sat. He reached up, his hand searching for the familiar shape and started to push it off. He caught it as it feel and he quickly dialed.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

He held the receiver up to his ear. His breath heavy with anticipation as it rang. It was only maybe 15 seconds but it felt like 15 years of waiting. 15 years of waiting for whizzer to answer, for him to ask Marvin howworks going, marvin would answer that he’s working late, that he’d be home soon. Marvin would be nice, say that he’d bring takeout on his way home. Whizzer would say okay. He’d come home to see whizzer. Everything would be alright that way.

Finally the ringing ended and Marvin gripped the reciver like a frightened hold with a knife.

“Hello this is whizzer brown, I’m out right now. Call back later, unless I’m ignoring you. In that case fuck off.”

The line went dead and Marvin called back again.

“Hello this is whizzer brown, I’m out right now. Call back later, unless I’m ignoring you. In that case fuck off.”

And again, and again, and again. He started laughing. It was kinda like whizzer was ignoring him huh? Like he was two years back when they’d first broken up. Marvin remember a couple days after the incident he had called whizzer seven times, one time sober where he left him harsh words. Called him a money hungry slut that couldn’t keep his legs shut that just leeched off of rich men. The other times he was drunk, completely hammered. Begging, apologizing like a pathetic loser. Whizzer only answered once. With the help of the voicemail he remembered the exact tone and cadence of his voice.

“Marvin.”

He paused and Marvin began his drunken apologies, whizzer cut him off after a sentence though.

“Marvin, lose my number. Never call me again or else I’m changing it.”

He sounded tired, angry, a little bit pained too. The line went dead after that and as much as Marvin was pissed that day that whizzer dared had the nerve to ignore, he ultimately obliged. He didn’t call him or see him until two years later.

Marvin laughed at the memory. Not that it was funny in any capacity, but the idea whizzer was just ignoring him again. That if he keeps pestering whizzers line he’d answer, cuss him out, yell obscenities at him. He wanted nothing more than for him to do that actually. He wanted to hear whizzer again, he wanted to touch and feel his hair, his skin. He wanted to talk to him. This was the closest he could get. So he dialed again, and again, and again.

For the first time in months he felt happy it was Like whizzer was still here, like whizzer was going to walk though their apartment door and kiss him. Everything of whizzer’s was still here after all. His cameras, his clothes, his shoes, his film, his baseball bat, his mitt, his racket. all of it. Whizzers stuff was in their room waiting for him. Whizzers line was still active, so eventually he’d answer and complain about Marvin blowing up his phone, he’d come home and tear Marvin a new one about not taking care of himself and his disgusting choice of clothes. Whizzers still here.

He dialed his number again. The numbers on it started to become more faded than the rest, Marvin didn’t know how long he’d been at this. Marvin had began to loose the concept of time outside of his work hours entirely actually. He held the receiver up to his ear again, waiting for the next hit of relief at whizzers voice as if it was a drug. But was instead swindled and scammed, being met with the robotic tone of a woman.

“Sorry you have reached a number that is disconnected or is no longer in service.”

He threw the reciver down to the floor, the line making the rest of the phone follow. It was most likely broken but Marvin didn’t care.

Whizzer was gone. Marvin couldn’t hear whizzers voice anymore. Marvin wouldn’t ever see whizzer again, Marvin wouldn’t see his lover come home, his lover wouldn’t take photos of him without him looking, he wouldn’t tear into him anymore for his poor choice of clothing and style, they wouldn’t play raquetball anymore, whizzers camera would collect dust, so would his film, whizzer wouldn’t play and loose against Jason, whizzer wouldn’t help Jason practice for baseball.

Whizzer brown was gone, he wasn’t coming back.

Marvin laughed and laughed and laughed. He writhed and clutched his stomach tightly as he curled into a ball. Laughs eventually turned into choked up sobs.

Whizzer brown was officially gone, there was no salvation or saving grace. Marvin had gotten one of his worse fears to come to fruition. At least Marvin would reunite with him soon enough, apologize for everything. He was bound to see his lover once more, kiss him, hold him, talk with him. eat with him, swallow him whole. Weather it be illness or the ocean, he’ll see whizzer once more.

[azullumi]

“heart to heart” ; ayato, cyno, diluc

summary — he could only watch as you die ; alternatively, he’s there to comfort and hold you as you take your last breath.

characters — ayato, cyno, and diluc (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — angst but not that heavy but not that light also, grammatical errors bcs i don’t like to proofread, established relationship ; scenario/one-shot

words — 1460

note — this is part 1 out of 2 !! here’s the next part with a different set of characters <33

;; AYATO

“—and i want a garden full of tulips.” you declared, a smile creasing the line of your lips, and he admires you ever so lovingly while listening to each one of your words. “why a garden only? we could have a mansion overlooking the sea.”

a hum escapes your lips as you think of his answer, “but mansions are huge and often lonely. i want a home, a warm one, big enough for us and our children and i want a garden where they can play.”

he smiles, gently, eyes gazing at you as if you’re the most lovely thing he has seen and you really are—the moonlight dances and rests on your skin, emitting a soft glow on your features, and you look much more breathtaking than ever. “we can be the ones to plant the tulips,” he elicits a light laughter from you, “mhm, we definitely should.”

it is late now, the both of you are a little bit tired resting underneath the sky peckered with stars. and right now, in the past, and future, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he—

“i love you, ayato.”

his breath hitched, like his heart has crumbled at his hands, you were there bloody and withering away on his hands, like a flower that had cut off its stem. and just like how quickly the world can be created out of three words, it shattered right at his hold.

“please don’t say that.” his voice breaks, faltering, compared to the tight hold he has on you as he desperately wishes that this warm embrace can help you even for a little bit. “why?”

not like this, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you aren’t supposed to die like this, you weren’t supposed to leave him, not right now, not ever—not when he still hasn't accomplished all of the things you two have talked about underneath the night sky.

“you’re saying that as if you’re going to die.”

you chuckle, “because i am.”

“this isn’t the time to be joking around.” but he knows the reality of it, he just refuses to accept it. “what about our plans?” he knows it from the way you struggle to find the words in your tongue, from the way you smile at him as you listen to his voice coming apart, “what about the tulips? the garden? you promised me,” from the way your breathing slows down and eventually—

“i��� i’m sorry.”

—it stills.

a brief moment of silence and a broken sob came, “you promised me…” that you’ll be there, that you’ll plant the tulips with him. “i love you,” that’s why he mourns for you and the promises you made.

;; CYNO

“i think that’s all of them?” you walk over to his side, feeling the soreness of your body hit you. bodies were found laying all around you but they weren’t dead, just knocked out as if they still have to be taken in for questioning.

“yes but nevermind that, are you hurt?” he asks him in a flat tone, despite the nature of his words, worry didn’t lace his tone. “it’s not that bad,” you say but half of your body feels numb, your side is damp, aching as it continues to bleed—it’s just a small wound.

you weren’t going to die even if your line of work requires you to be put in danger at times, you will never die for anyone, you’ve sworn that to yourself. it may be a selfish idea but you had promised yourself that you will always choose yourself because no one can be more than you. your existence is way too important for someone else’s to have it for their own—nobody can and nobody will.

but not the general mahamatra, not your love, not him as you willingly took a hit for him which left you at this state but he doesn’t know the severity of your situation as you chose to hide it. you didn’t want the man to worry—you were selfish not until it came to him.

your vision blurs and you feel your head spin.

“cyno—“

it happened so fast. you, suddenly collapsing to the ground and him, calling out to you as he towards your direction to catch your collapsing figure before it hits the cold floor.

he cursed underneath his breath, panic washing over him as he noticed your wounded side, covered with blood and it was then that the realization had dawned upon him—you were severely hurt since earlier and he just wants to berate himself, not you, for being so careless and ignorant.

“no matter what happens, don’t you ever dare risk your life for me.”

he trembles, recalling those words in his mind. it was you who had told him that and yet, you’re here, “keep your eyes open.” he pleads in a broken tone.

“i’m sorry…” you try to fight off the growing feeling of your eyes becoming heavy and your slow breathing, fighting off the ominous being cloaked in black standing at your foot. you weren’t going to die, you promised yourself.

you were getting weaker so is the sound of your voice, your vision seems to blur and darken in each moment that passes by and oh god, how much you fear not being able to see his face, not being able to see him completely in your last moments with him—thoughts came drifting in and out of you, asking what kind of expression does he have at this moment. does he still have that same calm expression you adored?

you coughed once more, fading eyes looking for the warmth of his own, “i love you, cyno, from the first time we met until forever. remember— remember that.”

“s-stay with me.” a command, but his breaking voice fails the firmness of his words, his tone could only be so soft as he spoke. “don’t you—don’t you dare close your eyes, that is an order.”

but the light of your eyes had already disappeared and at that moment, not only you had died but also him as you breathed out your last—even in death you still held his heart.

;; DILUC

“a hug, please?” you beckon with your arms wide open for him as you sit on the edge of the bed, your bed and his. the red-headed man only smiled before

“why do you need a hug all of a sudden?”

you hum, “nothing, i just want to feel you.” and in which, he huffs out a chuckle, “you can feel me as much as you want, my love.”

he could spend his life just with you in his embrace alone. oh, how he would choose to be alive by your side over anything, over everything. nothing could beat the solace of your hands on his own, of your lips in a kiss, of your skin at his touch.

but fate could be so cruel.

“do you remember the first time we met? i was also in your arms, you caught me when i was about to fall.” your tone was soft, fragile, as if anytime soon you’ll break and give in. “please—stop talking, save your strength, please. my love, you cannot leave me, you are not going to leave me.”

he spent so much of him guarding and driving danger away from the beloved city of freedom only for him

to not be able to protect you against those, it was injudicious on his part for not thinking that those very perditions that he fights were lurking at the comfort of his home. cruel, cruel, cruel, how could fate be so cruel? how could people be so selfish?

a dry chuckle and a weak response, “we know much better than that, ‘luc.”

how could you still look breathtaking even at the hands of death? how is it that you still manage to enamour him with blood staining your lips?

“i know that i’ve always belonged in your arms, even in death.”

he’s as warm as you remember him and you are cold despite his embrace, you remember—or perhaps, know—the expression on his face as you took your last, remembered the way he feels on you, remembered the way he speaks to you so lovingly, remembered everything about him and burned it your memory in hopes that you’ll know him in your next life, if there is one.

“i love you.” he mumbles as he brings you closer to him, tears that he had been holding back had now came pouring out of his eyes, the words he had told you were laced with warmth and affection—with hurt and poison.

but you are still cold and now, lifeless as you lay in his arms. beautiful, captivating, darling—dead.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[ja3yun]

The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY pt.3

sim jaeyun x afab!reader

warnings: suggestive (smut-ish flashback), angst, lost love, pet names, not many warnings tbf, and not proofread. anything I missed please lmk!

wc: 10.3k+ (honestly, i need to make these shorter)

synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. however, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.

part 1 | part 2 | part 4

a/n: hi! I'm giving you this chapter kinda quickly. heavy appearances from my wjsn ults because they are now integral to the story &lt;3 will update the next part during the week

4 years have passed since you left. No contact with your family, sometimes opting to send them a Christmas card with no return address just to let them know you’re alive. You missed them like crazy, more than any words could explain. It had been so long sometimes you wonder if you should go back, even for your mum’s birthday but it would be too awkward. The dramatic teen you left behind is who they knew you as, not the woman you’ve grown up to be. 

College changed you dramatically, for the better you like to hope. Your roommate Eunseo quickly became your other half, showing you the ropes of Avanti, Being a year older than you she was accustomed to the college, she picked you up when you needed it the most and she didn’t even have to. You thought she took pity on you at first, just taking you under her wing because you were a crying dismantled mess. But she was simply just the loveliest person in the whole world. You wouldn’t have made it to today without her. She left college last year and got a job close by so you saw her often and you were thankful for her every day. 

Throughout your college experience you did the typical; study, party, make questionable life choices at said parties. But one thing you couldn’t do was get into a relationship. 

You started hooking up with guys in your second year, just flings and one-night stands. Eunseo supported your habits, “I will always support women's rights and also their wrongs” she used to say every time you pre-gamed and she never asked why you didn’t get into a relationship. 

Jaeyun’s name hadn’t left your lips in 1460 days. A choice that you made as soon as you stepped off the bus in Pyeongchang. Jaeyun’s name also hadn't left your mind in 1460 days. Every touch from another felt wrong, every chat up line, every unwarranted dick pic. It wasn’t him so it didn’t matter to you. 

You started to enjoy yourself more as time went on, creating a new friend group and new memories. By the final year of college, you were content with your life, finding a degree in film was a fluke but you ended up loving every bit of it, an internship was on the horizon at HYBE Media to shadow a music video producer, your hair routine finally working out. Everything was coming up Y/N. This was the right choice. 

Yet you still thought about Jaeyun every day. What was he up to? Did he like living in Busan? Was he with someone else? Granted you don’t like to think about that last one too often or else you get a tightness in your chest. You wanted him to be happy but selfishly you didn’t want to know if that happiness was because of someone else. 

“Helloooo, Y/N, are you even listening?” Eunseo’s hand waves across your face as you come back from your zoned-out state, “Tell me what I just said.” She huffs and crosses her legs and arms, sitting back knowingly. Eunseo had invited you to a coffee date in a quaint little shop outside of your university. She originally introduced it to you on your second day here and it became your favourite spot. Laughing, crying, and hungover, you both occupied this little shop as if it were your second home.

You smile guilty and laugh, “You were talking about how much you love me and that we should get married,” you shrug and tilt your head jokingly.

“Weirdly you are close!” Her pointer finger is now in front of your face as she leans forward quickly in a flash. 

“I was?” You gave an incredulous look with one eyebrow raised.

“Yes! It has to do with marriage.” Her hands gesture an arch that can only remind you of the one SpongeBob imagination meme and you giggle. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re marrying Serim after like 2 dates.” You half joke and half panic, it wouldn’t be unlike her to do something like that and you both know it. Eunseo takes in your expression and slaps the table loudly and laughs. If there was one thing your best friend wasn’t good at it’s being quiet, and you love her so much for it.

“I like him a lot, but no. Actually, it's about my sister. You know she’s getting married?” You nod, sipping your coffee, “Well of course I’m the maid of honor,” she lifts the back of her hands and twinkles them under her chin and you chuckle, “Someone dropped out and there is a spare seat. Yeoreum is a freak and needs it filled for everything ‘to go as planned’”

You had never met any of Eunseo’s family, they lived a few hours away and despite the effort Eunseo made to invite you to every family gathering, even Christmas, you declined not wishing to be a burden. “I want you to come. I checked your schedule and you’re free, I have a dress, I’m driving us up,” she keeps rhyming off every reason you have ever given her to bail on traveling with her, “and you owe me one.”

Furrowing your eyebrows and tilting your head you encourage her to continue, owe her for what? “Well you don’t owe me yet but I heard the best man is single, older than you, and has these gorgeous big eyes. I’ll set you both up.”

“So I owe you for something that hasn’t even happened yet? And you don’t even know if he is interested? Or single?”

“Details, details.” Eunseo’s hand waves dismissively, “Please just come. I want you to meet my family since you don’t have any of your own. Think of my family as yours.” 

Eunseo doesn’t know what happened back home. You never told her you didn’t have a family but that you were just estranged from them, never disclosing details, particularly that the reason you don’t go home is your own fault, she didn’t have to know. Eunseo didn’t know anything, not about Jaeyun, nothing at all and yet she didn’t pry into your past. You were so thankful for her.

“Eunseo,” rejection is on the tip of your lips but she’s pouting, her eyes big as she does her best to look cute, and to your dismay it works, “I’d love to come.” The sun suddenly started to shine and burn your skin as its light lay on you through the window.

“Amazing!” clapping her hands rapidly she giggles, “We’re leaving tomorrow.” 

Your eyes expand and she stands up not letting you protest at how soon the wedding is. “I thought she wasn’t getting married until Saturday?” You query and check your phone which reads Monday. 

Walking out she explains, “Yeah but I need to be there early for final fittings, yadda yadda, boring wedding stuff. So I’m taking you with me. Either that or you drive up yourself.” The glint in her eyes as she turns to you makes your face deadpan.

“Fuck you, you know I can’t drive.” She laughs and grabs your hand. 

“And I still don’t understand how you’re 23 and can’t even ride a go-kart without crashing.” Playfully you hit her arm and laughed, a memory of you and her go-karting painted your brain. After that, you never got behind another wheel. 

___________

You arrive at Eunseo’s parents' house and your jaw slacks open. It’s bigger than any house you’ve ever seen. Your best friend joked a lot about being rich but you didn’t know she was rich rich. There are stairs leading to a giant white door that compliments the ash-coloured stones that surround it. Moss is growing up on each side of the home with intentionally placed pink flowers decorating throughout. Those rich bitch houses are so ugly, I want as small a house as possible so I’m always close to you no matter what room I’m in. His voice plays in your head but you shake him out.

Her parents are graciously letting you and her stay in the spare bedrooms, you don’t dare ask how many rooms are actually in this castle. Something about the air feels strangely familiar. You shrug it off and head inside with your blue suitcase and steamed dress. You curse rich people for having so many stairs.

“My baby!” Eunseo’s dad shouts from the door, “How is my sweet angel?” He greets her at the top of the stairs and hugs her tightly. You miss your dad a lot. His comforting words, his piggyback rides, his weird cinnamon body wash that made you despise the spice, you missed it all. “This must be Y/N! It only took 4 years to meet you.” His chest lets out a deep laugh as he hugs you just as tightly as his own daughter. A smile plasters on your face as you hug him with one arm, the other outstretched to protect the dress. 

“Thank you for having me. It’s an honour to be part of your daughter’s big day.” Eunseo’s dad’s eyes turn to crescent moons as he smiles and steps aside to usher you into the big house. 

“The party is in a few hours. The happy couple aren’t here, running last-minute chores but you’ll meet them tonight.” He turns to you and points up the stairs, “Eunseo will show you where to get changed. If you need anything, me and the wife will be hovering around.” You side-eye Eunseo quickly and she smiles widely. She didn’t tell you about a party. 

Bowing slightly you thank him and follow Eunseo who is squealing, shouting about how excited she is for you to meet everyone. Sometimes you wonder if she is the relationship you’ve been seeking after Jaeyun, platonic or not, you love her all the same. 

A few hours later you hear bustling from the crowd gathered down the stairs, the party in full swing as Eunseo finishes curling a wispy strand of your hair. Glancing up at her you notice how beautiful she truly is; her bangs falling effortlessly to frame her face, her lips plump and naturally pouty, she was flawless. 

“If you keep staring I’ll literally take you on the bed.” She smiles and you laugh. Pouting her lips near your face she pretends to kiss you and you play into it. Life is so easy with her. “Go get changed, I need to see my masterpiece completed.” Walking away she picks up the dress and thrusts it into your chest, “You’re gonna look amazing. That babe of a best man is gonna fall at your feet.  Now go.” she shoos you into the ensuite bathroom.

Staring in the mirror you analyse her work on your face and hair. Never in your life have you ever looked so beautiful and you can’t help but stare. You shed your old life behind you yet this is the first time you really felt like you were reborn. The immature you left behind, the 23-year-old staring in the mirror coming up from the ashes.

Unzipping the garment bag you see the dress Eunseo picked for you and you gasp. Its a silky deep red dress. Far too sexy for something like this.

“Um, Eunseo? This dress is…” You hold it against you and observe what it would look like on you. Hot. That’s exactly how it would look and considering this was the first time meeting a whole family of someone dear to you, you’d rather be more covered up than this.

“Shut up it’s hot. My cousins will be wearing something way sluttier so it’s all good.” Her nonchalant tone doesn’t ease you but it’s either this or the dress she got you for the actual wedding. 

As you adorn the dress you notice how it fits you perfectly and hugs you in at the waist flatteringly. It’s been months since you’ve put something on this beautiful. Your cleavage is out just enough, the material stops at your mid-thighs, and you feel like a beauty queen. As you take yourself in your hand goes up to your necklace. That necklace. The gold of the sun complimented the dress perfectly. You never did bring yourself to take it off.

Opening the door you see Eunseo changed into a pastel blue dress, covering her arms and neck but cut out to leave her chest exposed just enough, a slit runs up her thigh. Your jaw is on the floor as she walks over and eyes you up and down. “Look at you! A literal goddess.” she smiles as she takes your hands. “You ready to upstage my sister at her own engagement party?”

“Eunseo…you did not pick these outfits to stand out on purpose did you?” Suddenly your heart is beating quickly and the urge to change is more than ever. 

“Of course not! We’re just hotter than anyone here, including her.” She laughs and hands you the pair of gold heels you eyed up as she unpacked her bags earlier. They were exactly your style. “Take these and put them on. Literally take them off whenever but for the grand entrance you need to be complete” She used her right hand to motion over your body. 

Putting the shoes on you grew about 4 inches taller and were on Eunseo’s eye level now. “Ready to rock this bitch?” You nod and she grabs your arm, dragging you down the stairs.

There are eyes on you everywhere and you can’t lie, it is a little uncomfortable considering the age range of the men staring are in their late 50s. It's a party like you’ve only seen in movies; waiters walk around with Hors D’oeurves and flutes of expensive champagne. You start to wonder how much all this cost and if you could convince someone at this party to pay off your student loan. 

“Hey Eunseo?” You grab her attention as she hands you a glass of bubbly happily, “I just realised I don’t know Yeoreum’s fiance’s name.” 

“Oh,” She laughs loudly and slaps your arm, “It’s Jaeyun.” Your heart stops for a moment, there are lots of Jaeyun’s in Korea. Jaeyun from TO1 could walk through that door for all you knew. “Jake is what he goes by though.�� Your heart drops rapidly. There might be a lot of Jaeyuns but none that also go by Jake. Part of you wishes it was the biggest coincidence in the world but as voices fill the archway into the living room where you and your best friend reside you see Yeoreum, more beautiful than any picture Eunseo showed you could capture, and Jaeyun. Your Jaeyun.

Static is all you hear as you watch him greet guests and thank them for coming, and each footstep closer to you has your mouth going moist, ready to vomit. He hasn’t noticed you and if you had control of your body you would be bolting out the door instantly, but your mind has glued your feet to the floor. You take him, his face more defined than his previous squishy state, he’s wearing a fitted black suit blazer with no shirt underneath and matching wide-leg black trousers, and his hair is slicked back with stray pieces falling around his face. He looks expensive. He looks like the home you once knew.

You see Eunseo talking to you but as your eyes meet his, that static you once heard turns into rapid heartbeats. Your body is flushing with heat as you notice how his eyes widen for a second, his body turns to you instinctively.

“Eunseo!” Yeoreum squeals and shuffles quickly to give her sister an all-consuming hug, just like you want to do to Jaeyun right now. “Jakey come here” she beacons her fiance towards the both of you and without blinking or taking his eyes off you he walks cautiously forward. “You must be Y/N? Eunseo talks about you all the time.” 

She’s lovely. Gorgeous, clearly kind, she’s perfect just like her sister and it makes you want to cry. She’s perfect for him.

Plastering a smile on your face you fake glee as you hug her lightly, stealing another glance at Jaeyun while she can’t see you. He might have gotten older but those eyes still looked the same. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” you pull away and step back, sole focus on his bride, “Congratulations.” It's bitter and you say it quickly.

“Aw thank you!” She beams and you feel like being sick again. 

“Excuse me, I’m going to go to the restroom, I’ll be right back.” You excuse yourself and rush past the couple and Eunseo leaving a gust of air behind you. Clutching your chest you run upstairs for an escape. Out of all the best friend’s sister’s fiances, how was he the one you were faced with? Pushing the guest room door open you scuttle in and take a few deep breaths reliving the moments just before.

“Y/N?” The Australian accent hits you hard as you turn around and meet his eyes. It takes only seconds before his hands have cupped your face and his body dangerously presses against yours, so close you can feel his heart, a heart that used to beat only for you.

“Baby,” he pauses as his eyes search your face trying to convince himself that you aren’t a dream, “where did you go?” Jaeyun desperately whines, his voice cracking in sadness as his forehead touches yours. There is love laced within the melancholic question. Instinctively your hands grab his wrists as you close your eyes. “Princess, please talk to me. '' He's pleading, begging for any explanation. Jaeyun’s hands go from your cheeks and trace down your shoulders, his eyes scanning every inch of your face in desperation. He doesn’t believe you’re real and in front of him, your face is more mature yet still the same girl he loves even after all these years. 4 years he’s waited for you to come back to him.

Your silence and shallow breathing urge him to ask more questions, his thumbs stroking the area between the base of your neck and collarbone. “What happened?”

“You’re engaged.”  The first words out of your mouth take him aback. His mouth stays open, his hands leaving your body leaving you cold, and shivering. “She seems nice-”

“Don’t do that,” His bottom jaw slowly clenching as he speaks, “Please don’t act fine like this. Don’t make it seem like I’m the only one that’s hurting for us right now.” You sob without tears as you see him vulnerable and eyes beseeching. Jaeyun’s hands point to you before coming together in a praying motion, “I looked for you everywhere. I spent months trying to find you.” Deep down you knew he would have looked for you, but not for months, maybe for a couple of weeks before he left for Busan, but never months, “What did I do?”

Without a beat, you respond, “Nothing. You could never do anything.” 

“You don’t just abandon people you love, Y/N. Not us. There had to be something I did to make you fall out of lov-”

“Jake!” You hear a familiar voice shout and your head falls down to stare at your shoes. 

“Baby please,” Jaeyun wants to hold you, kiss you, understand what happened but he can’t. Not right now. 

“You should go, I’ll leave in the morning-”

“Don’t leave me again, baby, please.” His voice is quiet, despair etched within his tone. His eyes fall on your necklace, the necklace that he gifted you. His eyes trail down to properly take you in and if he wasn’t astounded before by your mere presence he was now, “You look so beautiful, just like always.”

“Jake your dad is gonna make a speech-” Heeseung's voice bellows throughout the room and yet you and Jaeyun don’t take your eyes off each other. As Heeseung walks in he freezes at the sight of you. Over the years Heeseung silently forgave you, seeing his best friend move on with Yeoreum brought him some solace when he thought about what you did to Jaeyun, but now the anger that was dissipated through time is bubbling up again, “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing here?” His tone is surprised more than angry, but you can tell he’s fuming.

You don’t dare look at him. 

“You should get back to your engagement party." Nothing but a whisper as it comes out. You’ve lost him as quickly as you got him back. You did this, and now you need to deal with the consequences. Brushing past him and Heeseung you make your way back to Eunseo ignoring his hand that grazed your wrist in an attempt to stop you.

His family was here, his friends, people from your past that you wanted to forget. The pressure was starting to become too much as you rushed down the stairs before colliding with someone, “I’m sorry.” You bow quickly.

“Y/N?” Mr. Sim’s voice quips in astonishment, “What are you doing here?” His head comes down so his eyes are level with yours, “What-” He has no words, looking at the girl he thought was going to marry his son. 

“Mr. Sim, It’s nice to see you again” You bow but still avoid eye contact. “I’m sure you’re proud of Jaeyun.” 

“Darling, we thought something awful happened to you.” The sincerity in his voice made you look up at him, heartache carved in your features “Your mum and dad haven’t stopped worrying about you.” A hand is placed on your shoulder and as you look down you see Eunseo.

“Girl there you are! You took one long bathroom break.” She laughs and bows to Mr. Sim, “Ready for your speech, Sir?” Mr. Sim looks at you inquisitively before returning Eunseo’s bow.

“I’ve been preparing this speech for years, only some minor tweaks.” His eyes find yours and you start to think maybe he’s hinting towards the speech he would have given at Jaeyun and your engagement party. “Better head.” Lips forming a tight smile he descends the stairs. 

His words circle your brain. You understood your parents would worry but all of these years you never had to face it, not until your past was being pushed onto you. Eunseo takes your hand and pulls you to the dining area where people are gathered to make speeches and say their congratulations. 

Jaeyun strolls in behind Heeseung, his hands in his pockets before he notices his soon-to-be wife and wraps one arm around her. Tears threaten to spill as you watch the loving action. That should have been you. You should be marrying him, taking his second name, being his everything.

A fork clinks with a wine glass as Mr. Sim starts his speech. “Thank you everyone for coming. I will make this short considering I’m sure you’re all sick of us talking, especially when there is a free bar.” the people occupying the room laugh loudly and you see Yeoreum smile up at Jaeyun. It killed you but like always you put a smile on your face, “My son, he’s always been someone to wear his heart on his sleeve, always giving one hundred percent of himself to the person he loves,” Mr. Sims eyes fall on you and you feel like the speech is somehow directed to you, “Jaeyun deserves to have someone who loves him unconditionally, without prejudice, without pride, and always with his best interest in mind. I believe he’s found that.” 

Crushed. Your heart can’t take the rest of the speech as you walk out of the room and bolt for the entrance of the house. Heaving your chest to gasp for air you feel yourself clutching at your chest, if you hadn’t had a panic attack before in your life you would have thought you were having a heart attack. You breathe out harshly, gasping for air as you lean on the banister. Someone comes up behind you and places a hand on your shoulder gently. 

You hear muffled words but don’t take anything in as the figure guides you to sit on the steps, their hands rubbing your arms to keep you warm.

“Breathe for me, Y/N. He He Hoo or whatever.” You follow the words and inhale two breaths sharply and exhale extendedly. “That’s it.”

Your vision starts to come into focus as you see Heeseung in front of you, his Bambi eyes soft as his thumbs rub circles into your upper arms, “Keep doing that for me, okay?” He’s always been so kind to you, that you want to cry and he notices, “Hey, look at me, Y/N. Tell me about that band you used to like way back when.” Heeseung is trying to distract you but your brain is fuzzy and tears are rolling down your face, “The one with that rapper Jaeyun was always jealous of because you had him as your lock screen?"

“Monsta X?” you breathe out and he smiles lightly.

“Yeah, tell me about them. Are they still together?” His hands leave your arms as he discards his jacket from his body and wraps it around you.

Nodding you start to answer his question, “Yeah, they’re still together.” You sniffle and feel your heart start to slow down and breathe at ease, “Most of them are in the military now.” Your lips naturally form into a pout as you think about your favourite band being separated, not being whole until 2027.

“Sucks doesn’t it? I felt the same about ONF.” He laughs and so do you, letting out a singular sob as you do so.

“I didn’t mean to come here, Hee. Her sister is my best friend.” His eyes go wide and then looks down, his hands finding their way to your knees. 

“Y/N, you can’t be here. He finally moved on.” There is a pleading intertwined with sorrow in his voice and you slowly nod. “He’s happy.”

“Heeseung?” Jaeyun’s voice pierces through you, the warmth from Heeseung’s jacket becoming null as goosebumps prickle your skin. “Can I talk with her?” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, man.” They’re talking like you aren’t even there and a part of this too yet your voice is too weak to speak up and share your thoughts. Tension is looming in the air as Heeseung gives the man you love a stern stare, but Jaeyun has always been stubborn when it comes to you. If he can’t talk to you now he will find a way. However, for now, at least, Jaeyun listens to his best man, and with one more glace to your fragile body he heads back to his party. It hurts him to see you like this, he wants nothing more than to swoop you up and take you in his arms like he used to all those years ago.

The party continues as you head back in making your way to the guest bedroom, giving excuses to those asking simply saying you’re tired from travelling. You miss him being yours. That was the real exhaustion.

________

The party ended a couple of hours ago, the once loud and busy foyer now dark as you tip-toe down the stairs, heedful to not wake anyone up. It’s 5 am when you awake dying of thirst and decide to leave the comfy double bed of the guest bedroom and get a glass of water. Looking around you see empty wine glasses, a few smashed ones lined up on the long table just beside the stair banister. It truly was a magnificent party and in any other circumstance, you would have had a great time. Yeoreum’s family is lovely and welcoming it’s no wonder they have so many friends, and no wonder Jaeyun fell in love with her and fit so perfectly as her soon-to-be husband. 

A leak of light bleeds from the kitchen and you presume an under-unit lamp is still on but as your feet scuffle into the kitchen you see a broad back staring at you. Taking in the figure you notice their blue and yellow checked pajama bottoms and casual black t shirt evidently not intended to be worn together but clearly the first thing they could find. 

A creak sounds from under you alerting them of your presence causing them to whip around. Jaeyun. One of his eyes was shut indicating he was not long up himself, his dark hair fluffy and tussled but still slightly in place due to the remnants of styling wax. He takes your breath away every time.

“Hi.” You whisper and make your way to the fridge. Heeseung was right, it wasn’t a good idea to speak to each other. When you saw Jaeyun again after all these years you thought he would be mad, scream at you to get out, seething in hate, but that was never who Jaeyun was. Instead, you felt his love shooting through you and that was the dangerous part.

“It’s late.” His eyes never leave you as he watches you pour a glass of filtered water. 

“Or early.” You shrug and lean against the unit not daring to look at him. “I guess it depends on whether you went to sleep or not.” you mumble, small talk never being your thing. 

Jaeyun still feels like he’s in a dream. Your presence is haunting yet he hasn’t felt more at home. Just the simplicity of you being in this kitchen is enough for him to experience contentment he hasn’t felt in years. Not since then. 

“When did you get engaged?” The question punches him slap-bang in the middle of his chest, the wind escaping his body. 

With his head hanging low and his middle finger tracing his coffee mug he muttered, “ A few months ago.” to which you nodded and pursed your lips. “What about you?” he questions back, “you seeing anyone?”

“No.” It’s sharp and direct but you don’t want to touch on the subject any further, you didn’t want to accidentally divulge that you couldn’t get over him, not when he was sitting afore you an engaged man. It’s embarrassing.

Jaeyun sucks in a breath and holds it as if he was going to say something but in his hesitance, you speak up again. “Eunseo, she’s my best friend.” giving the information as a way to explain why you’re here. “I didn’t know it was you getting married to Yeoreum, I promise.” Your eyes are begging for him to look at you so he can see the sincerity in your words but he never does, opting to just nod slowly. “I’ll make up an excuse to get out of here before the wedding.”

“Why did you leave, Y/N?” Jaeyun’s voice is soft but laced with hurt, “Tell me why because for 4 fucking years I still haven’t been able to figure it out.” 

No words come out of your mouth, instead, you bite your lip trying to pluck up courage, suddenly the idea of him looking at you made you uncomfortable but of course, now his eyes are on you. “You owe me that much.”

“I-,” You place the glass of water down and grip the counter behind you tightly, “I…I didn’t get into any colleges that I applied for, none near Busan. Only one accepted me but it was a few hours away.” His eyebrows are crossed in confusion as he asks, “What do you mean? I thought you only applied for ones near Apollo. We had planned-”

“My grades weren’t good enough to get into any colleges in Busan.” There is a slight venom in your tone but it’s not directed at him but rather yourself. “If I had told you I wasn’t going with you, I was scared you would give up your dream school and just fuck it all off to be with me.” You finally look at him and the confusion is dispelling from his face as you continue, “You said it yourself, you would have gone anywhere if it meant being with me. I couldn’t ask you to do that. I would live with the guilt every day, watching you attend a subpar college all because of me. I loved you Jaeyun I couldn’t do that to you.” 

Jaeyun doesn’t miss the past tense usage of ‘love’ but he rewinds, “So you left our relationship because…it would be long distance?” 

“Jaeyun it wasn’t just that, I did think about long distance but I knew you would grow at college without me, i kept thinking about what you said. The whole slowly breaking away from each other because we become different people stuff got in my head and I couldn’t bear to slowly lose you, so I-”

“So you thought leaving me without a word was the right way to go? Y/N we could have worked it out, we would have figured out a solution.” Jaeyun stands up and walks over to you, “I didn’t mean to pressure you into moving, or applying for the same college, or fuck even making you doubt our chances at long distance.” His hand naturally caresses your cheek as you let a tear slip.

Shaking your head you look up at him, “I was stupid and I didn’t want you to worry about me, you already had so much going on between work and school. But look, you went to college and you grew up, look at what you have.” Your hands gesture upstairs to where Yeoreum sleeps peacefully unaware of what is transpiring in her parent’s kitchen.

“We could have had this Y/N. You could be the one I’m marrying if you just let me look after you like a boyfriend is supposed to if you trusted me enough.”

“I did trust you.”

“Not enough to tell me what was going on when I gave you that ring. Y/N-” He huffs out loudly and drags a hand through his hair. “That should have been your opening to talk to me about all this. I love you so much I would have made long-distance work.” His deep eyes are searching into yours. All these questions he has and you can’t answer or retaliate to any of them. “When I gave you that ring and made that promise to be yours forever I wasn’t fucking around okay? I meant it.” He lets out a dry laugh and takes your hands in his. “Baby, I love you.”

You stand too stunned to speak. Here Jaeyun was after all these years still hopelessly yours. An engaged Jaeyun was still in love with you. You want to let out a laugh of disbelief but you’re frozen. The room is silent except for the annoyingly loud hum of the refrigerator. 

Jaeyun notices how your eyes fall to his lips as he licks them wet, taking the opportunity to lean forward just enough that his breath hits yours. If your lips touch you no doubt know you won’t ever let him go. 

“Jaeyun…”

Footsteps are heard behind you both and you push Jaeyun away forcefully but despite the other presence making themselves known, his eyes never leave your tear-glassed ones. “Baby,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear but you shake your head and barge past him, head down so the other person doesn’t see you. “Y/N?” Jaeyun calls out, reckless abandonment is telling him to chase after you but as he feels an arm stopping him to a halt he looks up and sees Heeseung. 

“Jake, don’t.”

________

Stirring in your sleep you groan as you hear a plethora of laughing coming from downstairs causing you to take the pillow from under you and suffocate your ears with it. After last night’s tragic events you just wanted to go home. Nothing would make you happier than to catch the first bus back to your flat and rewatch every episode of Fleabag to take your mind off of everything. Jaeyun was still in love with you and selfishly you hoped he hated you after what you did, that way your heart wouldn’t leap at every word he said. 

Baby, I love you

You shake the thought away and give in, sitting up and looking around the room. Eunseo is gone, probably downstairs being the reason for everyone’s laughter you think to yourself. With a huff, you pull the covers off your body and immediately feel the cold breeze causing you to shiver. You don’t know if it's a coincidence or not but as goosebumps rise on your legs and arms, Jaeyun’s laugh is heard over everyone else. You missed his laugh so much, your heart had a shot of pain pierce come on so suddenly. There was a glimmer of sun outside that made your necklace sparkle as you proceeded for the door.

It was as if your ears could only hear Jaeyun as you walked quietly down the stairs. “If it’s Yeoreum making him laugh I might kill myself.” you mutter, pulling your hair up in a pony. It’s dramatic but right now you can’t face to see them in love, it hurts. You’re hurting.

“Y/N! You’re awake!” Euneo stands up and scurries to the kitchen, grabbing a plate for you, “Mum just made breakfast.” 

“Hey! I helped.” Yeoreum faked offence which Eunseo simply rolled her eyes in response. She handed you the plate before you could tell her you weren’t hungry. “Sit down, Y/N, please.” Eunseo’s mum points to the empty chair at the comically large table, you suppose she does have a large family. 

Luckily for you, the seat was situated far enough away from Jaeyun that you could avoid him, unfortunately, you couldn’t avoid his eyes burning holes into the side of your face. You ignore him and scan the feast of food before you and you wonder if this is what it was like for Annie in Parent Trap when Chessy made a buffet of all her favourites. “Eat up, Y/N, there is plenty here.” Yeoreum and Eunseo’s mum says.

“Thanks, Mrs. Son.”  You pick up a few hash browns and start to eat one. That’s when you become aware of the enemy of all condiments, black pepper. It was a great tool in the kitchen, adding a little flavour and spice. Not for you though, the black powdered devil always makes your tongue itch. Who the fuck puts black pepper on hash browns? You think to yourself, face scrunching and teeth running along your tongue as you pour yourself a glass of water and take a huge swig. It does nothing at all so you go to excuse yourself to get a glass of juice or anything with taste but before you can there is a glass of apple juice placed beside you. Glancing up you see Jaeyun placing the cup with a knowing look on his face.

Of course, he knew. He knew everything about you and with the face you were pulling it was one he had seen too many times at restaurants.

“Why the fuck would they season their food with this, like, isn’t that what these are for?” You grabbed a pepper shaker and started waving it in his face. You had both gotten back from a day-turned-overnight trip to the beach and stopped off at a service station in the middle of nowhere, the diner was quaint with an American feel to it, undoubtedly your favourite kind.

“Princess I think your weird tongue is the only one that would complain.” Jaeyun laughed and swapped your eggs for his bacon. “There, now there is no pepper in sight.” He also passed over his apple juice with a bright smile.

“Take this.” His deep voice pulled you back to reality. Thanking him you take the cup and chug it quietly, but everyone's eyes are on you.

“You don’t like the food, Y/N?” Mrs. Son says not offended but certainly not pleased. Waving your hand quickly you swallow the liquid and explain, “No, it's lovely Mrs Son, me and pepper just don’t go well together.” 

Yeoreum looks at Jaeyun with furrowed brows but doesn’t question it. There is a massive part of him that knows he should have left you to deal with it yourself so as to not raise suspicion but his instincts kicked in. He takes Yeoreum’s hand and kisses the back of it tenderly. It stings your heart.

“So,” Mr Son claps his hands diverting the attention to him, “I thought since the whole wedding party is here we should get to know each other. We will be family once Saturday passes after all.” A groan comes softly from your right and you turn to see Heeseung with his eyes shut. 

“If he makes us play charades I’m passing my best man duties to literally anyone else.” He whispers to you which causes you to snort laugh and bite your mouth shut. You miss Heeseung’s smile as he watches you. He always did love you like a sister despite everything. He knew this situation wasn’t just hurting Jaeyun and after last night he was sure you were just as heartbroken as he was.

“We’re going to have a friendly game of football!”

“Dad, I can’t get bruised before my big day!” Yeoreum exclaims, her arms wrapped around her body to protect her from an imaginary ball flying at her. Jaeyun laughs and rubs her arms, “Reumie I don’t think your dad means you guys.” 

Heeseung’s hand lands on your shoulder as you watch the loving act. They did look good together you couldn’t lie about that. Their energy matched, they would make the most beautiful children to ever walk this earth, and even their sense of style was similar - casual but fashionable. 

“I was going to say 5 v 5, there are enough men here right?” Mr Son starts counting around the table as Heeseung slowly slides down the chair, his eyes hidden behind this hand as he pretends to rub his forehead. 

“I thought you liked football, Hee?” You whisper but he shakes his head violently. 

“Used to. I have since grown a great distaste for it, especially with Yeoreum’s cousins. They’re brutal and leave me bruised.” he mutters the last few words and you laugh leaning close.

“Aw is Hee scared of a little bruise.” He doesn’t appreciate your taunting yet he smiles and rolls his eyes. “You’re almost as good as Jaeyun, you can handle yourself I mean look.” You sneakily point to one of the cousins who is on his 3rd plate of food, “He’s going to be so full he can’t move, stick by him and you’ll look like Messi or something.”

Heeseung laughs out loud, “Oh! Heeseung I almost didn’t count you.” Mr Son claps, “That makes 10!”

Heeseung’s tongue pokes the side of his face as his rage-filled eyes look right into yours. You mouth a half-hearted ‘sorry’ and hold in a giggle. “I’ll kick the ball in your face.” He warns but you’re too busy chuckling to notice. 

Eunseo’s eyes meet yours with her eyebrows raised. Giving her a confused look you knit your eyebrows together to ask her what that look on her face is for but she simply smirks and looks at Heeseung. Fuck. You forgot that was her favour to you, to set you up with the dishy best man. Oh if only she knew. You and Heeseung were so out of this world impossible that you had to fight to hold in your laughter. 

“What’s so funny?” Heeseung whispers and his lips graze the shell of your ear. You quickly turn around and his face is incredibly close to yours. Eunseo must be loving this.

“Eunseo promised to set me up with the hot best man. That was my bribe to get me here.” A shallow laugh leaves his throat and he sits up, hands pointed to his chest.

“I am hot to be fair.” He jokingly smirks causing you to hit his chest playfully. “What? Do you not think so?” 

“I know so. It’s just how cocky you are about it all,” Heeseung’s lips part to say something but you stop him, “If you’re going to make a joke about your dick I don’t want to hear it, Hee.” he shuts his mouth instantly. You missed this just as much as you missed Jaeyun. The banter between you and your friends is what kept you from losing your mind most of your high school days, and right now it’s taking your mind off this ridiculous situation. 

“Eunseo tried it on with me once,” Heeseung says while eyeing her up and giving her a wave. 

“But she acted like she didn’t know you? When she brought you up it was as if she had never met you.” He scoffs as you recall the conversation in the cafe.

“I rejected her, she’s not my type. Plus, she wanted double dates all the time, and don’t get me wrong I love Jake and Yeoreum but they’re insufferable. Kinda like you and hi-” He halts himself mid-sentence and looks at you apologetically. “Sorry.” You wave it off and pretend it doesn’t hurt you to hear before he continues, “I probably shouldn’t say this but if it’s any consolation, he isn’t half as infatuated with her as he was you.” It does bring some solace but you try not to let it sit in your mind too long. 

“I’m not having a great time with it but at least he’s happy.” You mumble playing with your fingers and picking at the skin. Heeseung’s big hands encase your smaller ones as he squeezes them discreetly.

“You’ll always be his first love, just remember that. And who knows,” He leans back in his chair with that smug look on his face once again, “Your next love might be the hot best man.” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose you can’t help but laugh again. “Heeseung please shut up.”

While you and Heeseung were talking, none of you noticed Jaeyun staring purposefully as if his eyes could pry you two apart. He wasn’t jealous, no, he was just wishing he was with you both like old times, laughing with you as if no time had passed. Yeoreum strokes his arm lightly and looks up at him. “Jakey, you okay?” to which Jaeyun hums and turns to her, kissing her forehead lightly. “Never better, Reumie.” Lies but as his lips touch her head he remembers last night and how his lips felt like they had found their way home.

“Okay! Let’s go and get ready for a full day ahead. The game starts in an hour.” Mr Son’s voice bellowed throughout the dining area.

“Come on,” Heeseung takes your hand and leads you to the kitchen, “You’re eating something before you’re tormented by the whole aunt brigade.” Heeseung’s always been so sweet. Whoever ties him down is going to be the luckiest girl in the world.

__

The game had been on for 20 minutes and you can’t escape the daggers coming from Mrs. Sim across the table. Of course she’s mad, you hurt her precious baby boy, you completely understand but that doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. She liked you a lot before everything went down, always treating you like her own but now it’s like her heart turned cold towards you, a contrast to her husband who seems to actually tolerate you enough to be civil. Meeting the Sim family again was beyond awkward but you were thankful none of them let on to the others about you and Jaeyun’s history. 

“My Jakey is so good at football. He said he used to play in high school.” Yeoreum gushes, her hands clasped beside her cheeks as she watches her fiance on the garden lawn.

“Yeah, he was the captain in high school. Almost got a scholarship but he didn't want to do that professionally.” You say and sip at your white wine and lemonade top. 

“How do you know he was captain?” The question comes from Eunseo and you nearly choke on the sweet wine. Shit 

“Yes Y/N, how do you know?” Mrs. Sim quips and you want to die. You look over at the men on the field and panic trying to find any rhyme or reason you would know that information. Maybe I should put on a strip and join them, a ball to the face would be less painful. 

“Oh, um, me and Jae- Jake spoke about it at the party. Getting to know him and all that.” your words are rushed and your hand reaches for the bottle to pour more wine. Admittedly, this is probably the last thing you should be doing, getting drunk and not running your mouth was never something that came easily. The party of girls nod and accept your answer. You need to be more careful. You don’t dare look at Mrs Sim with the fear of being obliterated on the spot. 

“You got this, baby!” Yeoreum shouts loudly and gains the attention of Jaeyun, his smile bright as he waves, his eyes never leaving yours. You smile back and give him two thumbs up. He starts to wipe his face with the bottom of his t-shirt to gather the sweat. It gives you a peak of his lower abdomen and you feel like a Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time. 

The mind is a powerful tool and also your greatest enemy at the moment as you recollect every time you kissed down his stomach, sometimes leaving hickeys to mark him as yours. You remember how his jaw would slack open the lower you got, the moans that would fall from his lips as your tongue trailed from his belly button to the top of his boxer waistband. When his dick was pressed against that very stomach you would trace your fingers touching everything but his cock. You swallow hard, thighs clenching together, you can’t think these thoughts but fuck it was so easy.

Jaeyun notices your face change and smirks, biting his lip and ogling at your thighs rubbing against each other just like you used to when you were turned on by him. His eyes dart to his fiances but she seems unbothered by his act. Heeseung comes up behind him and wraps an arm over his shoulder. “Dude this is rough-” he pauses and follows Jaeyun’s eyes, “What you looking at? Yeoreum? Y/N?” he whispers only your name and it makes Jaeyun sigh.

“Let’s just get back to the game yeah? Sooner we beat these old men the sooner I can have a beer.” Heeseung laughs and claps his best friend’s back.

While you're zoning out, your best friend speaks up. “Heeseung looks good, huh Y/N?” Eunseo giggles and nudges your shoulder with hers. “I thought I saw him flirting with you earlier.” You laugh and shake your head dismissively. 

“Nah he was just engaging in conversation.” Everyone is looking at you waiting for you to elaborate, “Oh, it was just usual chit-chat. Weather, work, small talk stuff.” 

Eunseo doesn’t buy your chatter, she’s convinced after seeing you both this morning that you two will be the next wedding she attends. “Y/N, he was all over you at the table!” Eunseo chimes and tries to recreate the scene for the other girls at the table, “He was all like touchy, and your faces were like here!” Her nose brushes yours to which you laugh it off and push her lightly, shaking your head.

“Well I think you should try to speak to him more, he seems interested.” Yeoreum says and you try not to laugh in her face.

Mrs Sim snorts and sets her wine glass down. “Yeoreum, honey, Y/N isn’t his type. He likes classy girls, loyal girls with a good sense of worth.” Ouch. It was probably deserved but shit did that prick your heart. Eunseo looks at you confused but you shrug and don’t pay attention to it.

“Heeseung isn’t my type either.” you mutter. Yeoreum leans her elbow on the table and places her face in her palm as she asks, “What is your type then, Y/N?”

Jaeyun.

“Eh, I like guys who are sweet, um, they laugh at stupid jokes,” You start to look at Jaeyun as you continue, “I like when guys are attentive and know things about you that you don’t even really know yourself because they listen to every little thing you say.”

The girls around the table are gawking at you, “Y/N? Have you ever been in love? You must have been!” One of the bridesmaids asks excitedly. You shrug your head to the side and laugh.

“Once upon a time but that was forever ago.” You slyly look at Mrs. Sim and it was astronomically the worst decision. Her face was overcome with disgust.

Ironically, it’s Yeoreum asking the question now, “Tell us about it. Wasn’t he the ‘one’”. How do you say to her that your love, the one you want to spend forever with, is hers? 

“I think he was but I was an idiot, too young to understand that we should have fought through our challenges rather than me running away from them.” The honesty in your voice is raw and you’re holding down the tears. One of the bridesmaids asks, “How do you know someone is the one?” 

“J-” You almost say his name but smoothly continue without anyone noticing, “You know because there is an easiness in loving someone you know you're going to spend your life with. It comes naturally like breathing. There’s no trying to impress, no hiding parts of you. You both love each other like it’s the only thing you know how to do right. Even if you're apart, when you eventually come back together you slide right back into where you left off. Your love is infinite." 

Yeoreum starts to cry "That’s like me and Jake." The crowd of girls hurry to her side and hug her as she sobs, encouragements from her party saying how they are ‘meant to be’ flood your ears. While they are distracted you wipe a tear, that’s when you feel a hand hold yours. Mrs Sim has a mournful look on her face, her thumb swiping over the back of your hand now seated next to you. Its unexpected but this is a step up from the hateful glares and you’re more than thankful.

Her eyes hold a love for you just like those years ago, maybe it took you explaining your feelings for her to truly understand how sorry you were about the whole situation, opening her up to forgive you even a little bit.

Yeoreum composes herself, fanning her face with her hands as everyone proceeds back to their seats, everyone except Mrs Sim who stays by your side, forcing Eunseo to move to the opposite end. “Thanks, girls. Ugh I just love him so much.” 

Don’t ask it. Don’t ask it. Your brain is screaming to ask her the question that you know would set you off, “How did you two meet?” The words fall from your lips before you can catch them with your teeth.

A smile spreads widely across her face as her whole body turns to you. This is the first time you have properly examined her features and you wish you didn’t. Easily she is one of the most beautiful girls to ever exist, her small face but big features making her look otherworldly, her body is naturally slender, her black hair is long and sleek straight, her bangs fit around her face perfectly, her eyes gleamed with life and love. She was truly perfection. “We met at Apollo! You know the college in Busan?” Her eyes twinkle and you become jealous because in the past 4 years, your eyes have become dull and empty, “He was walking to class in the East block and I just thought he was the hottest guy I had ever seen.” 

Mrs. Sim delicately squeezes your hand but doesn’t spare a glance. Despite her feelings for you, she knows this isn’t easy for you and she doesn’t envy you in this situation at all. “I just walked up to him and asked him out. He was so reluctant at first, saying he was still getting over his ex,” she smiles at the memory, “and let me tell you, after that night he probably didn’t think about her again.” Yeoreum smirked as the girls squealed.

“Yeoreum, as his mother I don’t need to hear this.” Mrs. Sim scoffs, her face slightly disgusted. The bride-to-be mouthed a quick sorry and continued, “We went totally casual for a while, but you know how things escalate, he was in love with me by like the third time I met him.”

You nodded at her as she continued to tell you about her romance with the love of your life and you feel your heart slide its way into the pit of your stomach. It's nauseating how he found a love and you couldn’t even face dating anyone. But you couldn’t be mad, of course not, because you did this.

“Y/N?” You look up to see Heeseung and Jaeyun, both of them with their eyes on you purposefully. Yeoreum grabs Jaeyun’s hands yet his eyes don’t leave your face. Heeseung’s voice continues, “Can I grab you for a minute? I got a-” he pauses to think of an excuse, “I need a second pair of hands to bring out more drinks, yeah?” His eyebrow raises at you to follow along to which you nod and stand up. Noticing Eunseo’s stares you shake your head and give her a small smile. 

Heeseung’s fingers interlock with yours as he leads you away into the house and suddenly you feel like you can breathe again. “Y/N you okay? You looked like you were gonna throw up.” You look up at him, his 6”0 frame towering over you. 

“I’m fine, just asking questions I know I shouldn’t.” You let out a half-hearted laugh and smile sheepishly at him, “It’s okay. How was the game?” Proceeding to the kitchen you open the fridge to pick up the jug of margarita Yeoreum and Eunseo had lovingly made with way too much spirit and minimal mixers. 

“I still hate you for getting me caught, but we beat them so,” He shrugs and reaches from behind you to grab a six-pack of Peroni, “Wasn’t as eventful as your time at the interrogation table. I saw them all grilling you.” You snicker and disagree.

“Nah, they were just asking about my life, the usual.” It wasn’t the full truth but it wasn’t a lie either. 

Heeseung moves from behind you and leans against the kitchen island, one foot propped up on the base of the counter, swinging the beers between his legs. “How was Mrs. Sim? That must have been hard, I could feel her ice-cold stare from the other end of the garden.” He opens up the packet of 6 and hands you one, “Open this for me?” You nod and take it from him, setting the jug down to pop open the lid with the edge of the unit before giving it back to him. 

“I thought I was going to die I can’t lie, but then she was okay, I think?” You question the interaction in your head, “She was nicer to me as the afternoon went on, but I think it was pity.” Heeseung brings the bottle to his lips and sips the cold beer and his eyebrows lifted.

“I don’t think It would be pity, you know she loved you more than Jake, at least that’s what he always thought." He pauses and takes a sip from his bottle before dramatically pulling it from his lips and pointing towards you, "Fuck, didn’t she have your wedding dress practically paid for?” 

This was news to you and Heeseung guessed as much by the look on your face, “You didn’t know? She always went about how she had a separate savings account for you and Jake’s wedding. I think she still has it.”

You look at him quizically, “Wait, why would she still have it? Surely she would have put it to this wedding.” You search for a glass to pour the margarita into and wait for Heeseung to respond.

“Nah, they didn’t pay a penny for this. They don’t want him to marry her.”

“WHAT?!” You exclaim and turn around bug-eyed and mouth open, “What do you mean? His dad was saying all that nice stuff at the toast, and his mum looked like she was bursting with pride when Yeoreum was talking about Jake.” 

There was a silence in the air as Heeseung stepped forward and grabbed your shoulders, “They like her, but babe she isn’t you. Mr. and Mrs. Sim know Jake doesn-, you know what I shouldn’t be saying anything.” You plead with him to continue, gripping his hands that are placed on you, “Hee, please, Jake doesn’t what?”  

Just as Heeseung is about to divulge very useful information, Eunseo walks in with her hands up, “Ignore me, love birds, just came to get the jug of fun,” she spots it behind you and points, “Can you grab me that please?” 

Stepping back, Heeseung grabs the jug and hands it to Eunseo, “We were just coming out anyway, right angel.” 

Oh, you were going to murder him. His face smug and Eunseo’s mouth breaking into a large smile, you grab your glass and head out with them, Heeseung’s hands on your hips and lips to your ear, “Let me give her what she wants.” You turn around, eyes scolding him.

“Don’t even think about it, and don’t think I’ll let our little conversation go either.” As you walk and warn Heeseung, you’re already outside, a pair of usually wide, bright eyes, now thin as they watch you and his best friend joke around.

Jaeyun is seething.

[pistachiofiasco]

fear, hallways, decrees

Pairing: Gilbert von Obsidian x Reader Genre: fluff/comfort Words: 1460 Warnings: implied fem!reader (periods)

Also on AO3!

it's been many years since I wrote anything and it's been even longer since I posted anything I wrote. So, yknow, play nice lol

He had heard the guard. Knew the words that were said were "seems unwell", not "is injured". And yet it did nothing to stop him from storming out of his meeting, cane thumping resoundingly (his expression must have been more terrifying than usual, no one had dared to make a single sound in protest, and some were likely to still be sitting there until he got back).

He had made such an effort to ensure your safety since your arrival in Obsidian. No one knew the dangers better than he did after all, and he knew he’d never recover if something happened to you whilst in his care. The cogs in his mind were turning, his brain trying to make the usual connections and leaps that he was renowned and feared for, but every idea came at him in such a rush that he found he couldn’t settle on a logical conclusion. First, he had to establish the facts, with his own eye, preferably. The repetition of the words he actually heard, not the ones he feared, did nothing to curb the feeling of dread in his chest, the need to see you with his own eye, the worry, the fear, the old memories--

Turning the corner, he found you, to the side of the corridor, slumped against the wall. For a moment he almost faltered (were you conscious?), felt his chest beat out of rhythm (had you passed out?). Two more guards were hovering over you, clearly wanting to help but also aware they were not permitted to. In the last twenty steps it took to reach you, he could hear your chiding tone in his mind, a conversation you had shared multiple times ("Gilbert, the decree is ridiculous, what if I need help when you're not around?" "And where exactly would you be going without me, little rabbit?"), and if he felt just a little chagrined at the situation playing out exactly as you said, only you might be able to figure it out (later). And that would be fine.

For now, the worry overpowered everything. You had looked up when you heard him approaching (not unconscious, awake and aware), had known it was him before he could even call for you (had you recognised the sound of his footsteps? It would be delightful if you did, though it was more likely his cane that gave him away). You smiled at him, leaning against the wall as you were, and you seemed fine, bar sitting against the wall in a random corridor. Your voice didn't waver when you called his name and you seemed more embarrassed at the attention than in pain. Your face was paler than usual though.

She seems unwell sir.

He knew from the look on your face that you'd be apologizing for interrupting his work the second he was close enough (as if it mattered, as if anything mattered more to him than you, but you still didn't quite believe that, no matter how many times he insisted it was true). You were pushing yourself up before he could reach you, support reaching out from well-meaning but unacceptable hands. They stopped short and their owners seemed to leap away in response to his presence and you acknowledged it all with a huff and a pointed look in his direction. He could hear your voice as clearly as if you had shouted the words down the hall at him ("what did I tell you? This is silly Gilbert").

It didn't matter though. In the next moment, he was beside you, arms out to catch you, legs braced to support your weight. Your hands landed on his arms, holding gently, not clutching (not in need of support). As he looked you over, confirming for once and for all that there was no injury (though you were definitely pale and your temperature was higher than usual and he had ultimately found you sitting in the corridor so something was clearly wrong; if not physically then--). Your hand on his cheek brought him back and you smiled ruefully as his eye locked with yours. You truly did seem fine and he felt some of the tension give way.

"I'm okay, I promise Gil, it's nothing serious-"

Which means there was Something. The tension was back. He could feel his smile become sharper, his eye narrowing, and you stroked his cheek, thumb brushing softly under his one eye, in response. There was a look on your face asking him to not go overboard - though you expecting him to control himself when Something was an issue now hovering between you asking for a bit much considering who he was, in his opinion. The thought must have shown on his face because you made a small noise in your throat, your smile exasperated but affectionate. It eased him down again; he knew what you were like when you were actually unwell - you had little energy for joking and your smile never conveyed as many feelings at once (in his heart of hearts, he considered that maybe that was one of the scariest things he had ever witnessed. Your eyes glazed over with fever, your smile so hollow in comparison to what he knew of you and so brief, fading after barely a moment as the pain and discomfort took you again. He had decided to do everything he could to prevent you from getting so sick again, Walter's professional bewilderment at his "advancing medical technology by another hundred years" meaning barely anything in the face of you waking up, fever finally broken, and reaching for him, calling his name so gently, so affectionately).

You did seem fine. Perhaps it was a momentary thing, with you pushing yourself to help around the castle. He might have believed it, if you hadn't taken a step towards him and he hadn't watched your eyes lose focus as you tilted and half stumbled into him. His arms were already around you, bearing most of your weight, as you breathed sharply against his neck. There was the smallest groan on discomfort at the back of your throat, though it was loud enough in his ears to drown out the worried exclamations from beside him. You were unwell then. There was Something.

Almost like you knew what was about to happen, your hands clamped down on his before he could reach low and lift you. There was a panicked look on your face as you locked eyes with him, minutely but frantically shaking your head. His patience was fraying; the lack of explanation was aggravating him. He could almost feel the pieces of the puzzle coming together, but somehow couldn’t quite grasp what the look on your face meant. But you knew him so well, better than anyone ever could. One hand smoothing over his chest, you glanced at the two guards still standing nearby.

"Could you get me a painkiller from Walter? And maybe some hot water and a towel? Please."

Their responses were immediate, a quick and sharp salute at both of you before they immediately rushed down the hallway. Gilbert watched them go, feeling the threads in his mind finally pull taunt with understanding. A glance at you as you turned back to him and your expression tied the knot, the answer settling, the picture crystal clear.

"Help me to bed please?" Your smile was small and apologetic (and still undercut with embarrassment – teasing you now would be exceptionally mean, especially with your legs still shaky), soft fingers reaching up to his face again to brush through black strands. You almost definitely knew how far you had pushed him in the past few minutes, though now he understood why you were trying to avoid providing any explanations (you had expected him to figure it out, clearly, though he suspects a part of you might have hoped he wouldn’t – loving relationship or no, appearing vulnerable in front of him was like asking him to play with you and you both knew it, and while you knew it was all in good fun and with all his affection, perhaps you wanted to spare yourself the embarrassment of the current circumstances). He doubts he would have taken well to you announcing the issue either, considering his possessiveness over you and your body. The decree was not winning him any points in this argument.

Still, as he wrapped an arm around your waist and you both turned towards the bedrooms, he couldn't quite let you get away unscathed. You had scared him after all.

"At least the sheets are all black; you’ll have nothing to worry about little rabbit."

Your groan sounded down the hallway, mixing with the unfamiliar echoing sound of his genuine laughter.

idk I had very bad cramps and I needed some kind of comfort lol

The line about Walter + advancing medicine 100 years comes from this post which has some of my favourite tidbits about this silly little affection starved man.

[euphor1a]

Riding Soobin’s thigh

thirst drabbles (11/∞)

fandom » txt

pairing » soobin x f!reader

rating » 18+ (minors dni!)

genre » smut, established relationship.

word count » ~ 1460

warnings » profanity, light dom/sub undertones, reader is thirsty, teasing, implied size kink, thigh riding, dirty talk, breast play, lmk if i missed anything!

You know he’s probably working on something important. The furrow between his eyebrows and his hyper focused eyes are kind of a clear giveaway. So, it’s probably for the best and the most natural thing to not bother him until he’s done. You know.

But God, why does he have to look so sexy while working? The glasses that sit low on the bridge of his nose being the most criminal of it all. You wonder if you’re a total weirdo for feeling so turned on by a rather simple thing.

To your defense, this is the first time you’ve seen Soobin working from home. And, he doesn’t exactly wear his glasses frequently. But then again, it hasn’t been long enough since you started to spend more time at each other’s places, often staying the weekends together instead of going on dates. 

“Soobin-ah~” you coo, hoping, praying that he answers. God, you are so desperate, down bad. 

“Mhm?” He answers, long fingers quickly typing something away on his MacBook. His gaze is transfixed on the screen, not once reverting towards you. The strangeness that’s been pooling in your stomach increases tenfold. You want him. Fuck, you might as well be crazy. 

“Soobinnie…” you mewl, wanting nothing more than his attention right now. 

Soobin looks at you for a split second, his face blank. “What happened?” 

You sigh, mumbling an almost inaudible ‘nothing’ and lowering your head. He shrugs it off, going back to his work nonchalantly. What can you possibly tell him? That you’ve been admiring him for half an hour now and you’ve made yourself wet in the process?

But you’re no quitter. It’s embarrassing to tell him out loud, but you can surely do something to get him on board instead of confessing your sins, right? 

You unbutton his oversized shirt you’re wearing as silently as possible, taking small steps to reach where he’s sitting on the couch, completely unaware of your intentions. 

“Baby, what are you doing?” Soobin hisses under his breath, caught off-guard by the feeling of your warm hands squeezing his shoulders firmly. 

“I thought you could use a massage.” Your voice is gentle, scared of rejection. 

He can’t help the smile that curls his lips upward. “Aww, thank you, my love.” Your heartbeat picks up speed, hands continuing their journey across his broad shoulders. It only turns you on more, thinking about the times you had scratched up his back while he fucked you so good. 

You let your thumbs rub soothing circles around his neck, earning a groan from Soobin. It makes you clench around nothing, a trigger flipping inside you. 

So you lean down, dropping a fleeting kiss on his neck to test the waters. To your dismay, he doesn’t react to it at all. You swallow nervously, nuzzling the crook of his neck, more bold with your kisses now.

Soobin halts momentarily, your ministrations sending shivers down his spine. He has no clue why you suddenly did that, but he can guess what you really want when you reach for his earlobe and start nibbling at it.

“Oh, I didn’t realize that it was supposed to be this sort of massage.” He teases you, still trying to focus on his work. But you aren’t having any of it.

You hum in response, letting your hands wander off towards his chest, your mouth hungrily sucking a hickey on his neck. Soobin shudders as you slowly move downward, stroking his thighs teasingly before squeezing them rather roughly.

“Fuck,” he groans, your hands sneaking under the material of his shorts swiftly. He grits his teeth, your fingers gently caressing the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. It’s almost ticklish — but in a very good way, goosebumps spreading all over him. He can also feel his cock starting to stir in the confines of his boxer-briefs, a sigh escaping him.

Soobin removes the MacBook from his lap, spreading his thighs apart, giving you access to more. You smirk, excited to see that your plan has worked. But, you continue to stimulate his soft spots to get him properly aroused, so that he doesn’t back off later on. 

But the more you see his thighs, the more you realize that you want to feel them against your pussy. The way his muscles contract every time you hit a more sensitive area has you feeling dizzy. You’re not sure why this is the first time you’re noticing how strong and thick his thighs are. But it really shouldn’t be a surprise — considering that he’s pretty big in every aspect possible.

After a while of teasing him, you go over to the opposite side to face him, quite impatient by now. You’re met with a pair of dark, dilated pupils, drinking you in with desire. You shiver under his gaze, discarding your panties and positioning yourself over his left thigh. 

Soobin quirks an eyebrow as he watches you with piqued interest. His hands come up to caress your sides underneath the shirt loosely hanging from your shoulders. You lean down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your hands around his neck. Soobin reciprocates with the same hunger, his tongue entangling with your own. 

As the kiss gets heavier, the urge to have some friction between the two of you grows rapidly. And to relieve you from your misery, you start to lower yourself on his thigh. Soobin growls when your wet folds make contact with his bare thigh, his hand squeezing your ass firmly. “Fuck! So impatient that you wanna get off on my thigh, huh?” 

You mewl needily in response, rubbing yourself against his thigh. “I just, I just wanted to see how it feels…” 

“Aw, I’m always happy to fulfill your cute little fantasies. How is it, baby?” Soobin enquires, dropping a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“Hmm, so good.”  You hum as you continue rolling your hips in slow and smooth circles. Honestly, you didn’t know what to expect, but this is so much better than anything you could possibly think of. You can feel your juices wetting his skin, the friction oh so delicious. Soobin reaches up to tuck a stray lock of hair between your ear fondly, his hand on your waist — guiding you on himself. 

You sigh at his touch, moving your hips with a passion in an attempt to get yourself off. He caresses your back before sliding off the shirt from your body and throwing it off somewhere. Soobin grabs both of your breasts immediately, looking like a starved man who’s just been presented with a full course meal.

“So soft.” Soobin murmurs before taking one of your erect nipples into his mouth, his fingers teasing the other. A strangled whimper escapes you, your nails raking on his clothed chest — the delicate material getting snagged in a few places. He’s so good at sucking your tits, alternating between twirling his tongue in circles around your nipple and sucking and nibbling lightly. You can’t help but let out a string of moans as waves of pleasure crash through your body.

“Nngh, Binnie,” You cry out, “Feels– s’good!” He smiles softly in response, his adept tongue slurping at your stiff, sensitive peaks. 

Soon enough, you start to feel your pussy spasming and every little sensation amplifying with each roll of your hips.

Soobin licks his bottom lip, eyes hungrily watching your every motion as you move so desperately to get yourself off on his thigh. Knowing very well that you’re very close to your release, he thumbs your clit gently to assess your reaction.

“Ugh, Soobin!” Your whimper encourages him to go on, calloused thumb rubbing your clit, adding more to the pleasure from his thigh. He leans forward, whispering lowly into your ear as he feels the heat of your cheeks against his own, letting out breathless moans.

“Do you like fucking my thigh like that, hm? You like it when your pussy rubs against my thigh and makes a mess?”

“God, yes!” You squeal, moving frantically against him, your cunt starting to pulsate as you start shaking. Soobin grunts, his lips finding yours again and again, muffling your loud moans. 

“I’m gonna come.” You whimper helplessly, his expert fingers teasing out the pleasure from you. It feels unspeakably good, your hips moving on their own, slippery folds gliding along his wet skin.

“Then come, baby. Cream all over my thigh like the needy girl you are.” Soobin murmurs huskily, clenching the muscles of his thigh.

And that does it for you. You moan his name urgently, your body breaking out in exhilarating sensations as orgasm hits you in tidal waves. He holds you close, his cock twitching as you try to recover, your nectar sleeking his leg even more. 

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 author’s notes ꒱

thank you so much for reading <33!! i hope this was enjoyable! it was... an experience rewriting this old work from my old blog🧍🏽‍♀️ (s/o to the sweet, sweet anon who asked me to repost this long ago)! my apologies for any mistakes left in there!

consider leaving a reblog or a comment to let me know what you think of this <333!! feedback through asks will be appreciated too! support your local writers, it keeps us motivated to create and share 🌸!

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[medicbrainrot]

you make me wish i could disappear

A/N: Soooo, it’s been a while, hey? Instead of studying for my immunology exam, or even going to bed at a reasonable time, I wrote 1460 words of angst/hurt/comfort instead. Apologies in advance for any poor writing, I’m running on not enough sleep and not enough dopamine, hence this new piece after months of nothing. Spoilers for MW3 kind of. Let me know what you guys think!

It’s the middle of the night; she suddenly bolts upright in bed panting heavily, her hair wild from sleep as she gasps, trying to hold back tears. She clutches at her chest as she tries to catch her breath, disoriented to her surroundings. Simon is currently asleep beside her, but begins to stir when he feels her moving and hears her gasping. He cracks open his eyes, alerted to his love’s distress. 

“Sweetheart? Are you alright?” He reaches up slowly as he sits up, trying not to startle her in her disoriented state. “What’s wrong?”

Still half asleep and half panicking, she turns to Simon and immediately starts conducting a trauma sweep, the muscle memory of her training kicking in as she checks him for injuries. 

Simon doesn’t fight the inspection, letting her check him with the understanding that it might take a bit for her to snap out of her frantic nightmare-induced state. He gently brushes his fingers across her cheek, hoping that the gentle touch will pull her back to wakefulness and help her feel safe again. 

“You’re okay, you’re safe here love. It’s just a nightmare.” He murmurs gently, cupping her face. 

Although still frantically checking Simon for injuries as she presses on his collarbone followed by his facial bones, she slowly starts coming back to a more coherent state, her frantic search slowing down as she calms down. 

With his other hand he gently reaches to rub up and down her back, looking at her with worried eyes. He takes one of her hands and places it on his chest, letting her feel his heartbeat. 

“Slow down babe, you’re okay. You’re fine, I’m fine. You can calm down.” He says softly, sliding his fingers from her face into her hair. 

He lets her get herself oriented, softly brushing her hair back as she rests her hand over his heart. “You’re okay, nothing’s wrong, I promise.”

“You’re alive.” She pants softly, the tears in her eyes threatening to spill.

“I’m safe, I promise.” He reassures her, rubbing her back in soothing motions. “It was just a nightmare, I’m right here.” He knows he needs to be gentle with her right now, she can be on edge for a while after a nightmare like this. 

She relaxes onto her knees a little bit, leaning into Simon’s shoulder as he pulls her close. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his lap, holding her tightly to give her the comfort she needs. He can tell she’s still tense, so he encourages her to lean into him as he soothes her. 

They sit there in charged silence, curled into each other as he gives her a few moments to gather her thoughts together. 

“Makarov came after the 141 again.” She sobs softly, pressing her face into Simon’s neck.

Simon knows exactly why she’s been having recurring nightmares about Makarov, he’s been having similar ones alongside her. They almost seem to take turns having fitful nights of sleep, interrupted by each other’s nightmares. 

He sighs, knowing there’s not much he can do at the moment except comfort her. “It’s okay, it’s over now. It was just a dream.” He turns his head to press a kiss to her forehead, hoping his touch soothes her frayed nerves. 

He lets her melt into him, his arms around her tightly enough to keep her pressed to him, his heartbeat thudding in his chest as he recalls the events of a few months ago. They simultaneously feel as if they happened yesterday, just like they feel as if they happened a lifetime ago. 

He shifts their bodies across the bed so that he can adjust them from sitting into laying down, encouraging her to rest her weary body on his. He keeps her curled onto him, running his hand up and down her back to try and comfort her. 

After several moments of sniffling, she finally bursts into tears, breaking the silence in the room. “I’m scared….”

As soon as she starts crying, he knows she’s one step closer to getting it out of her system for the night. This is a recurring event, and he knows how to comfort her so that they can eventually both fall back asleep. He gently rubs the back of her head, encouraging her to let it out. 

“I’m here, everything is okay sweetheart, I’m here. You’re safe here.”

He holds her tight to his chest, knowing that all he can do right now is comfort her. It’s easy for him to do so, he knows her like no one else. He allows her to press herself into him and cry, letting out intense sobs as she processes the nightmare and the events that caused it. 

After several minutes of intense crying, it seems she’s gotten through the worst of the breakdown. She continues crying, but a little less intense, eventually shifting to sniffles instead of sobs. 

He kisses her forehead again as the tears start slowing down, his comforting touch doing its job of calming her down as she cries it out. “It’s okay love, it’s okay. You’re safe here with me.” He whispers soothingly.

“I miss Johnny.” She sniffles into Simon’s neck. “He’d laugh if he saw us like this.”

“He called it from the beginning, didn’t he?” Simon agrees softly, holding her a little tighter. He knows Johnny’s death had hit her extremely hard, the two of them having become fast friends upon the formation of the Task Force.  “I miss him too. I just know he’d be teasing us about being right.”

“It was cruel of the universe to not let him see he was right.” She sniffles softly.

“I’m sure he knows love, I’m sure he knows.” Simon chuckles softly. 

A few more moments pass before Simon nudges her with his shoulder. “Are you feeling a little better?” He asks gently as he swipes his thumbs across her cheekbones. 

She nods, sniffling away a few remaining tears. “I was just thinking.”

“About?” He inquires hesitantly.

“The first time you kissed me.” She mumbles.

Simon recalls the incident in question. It had been her birthday, just before midnight to the next day. They had gone out for a quiet dinner to celebrate, neither of them being in a particular mood to do so, but using it as a reason to get off base. 

On the walk up to her door, Simon had finally gathered up the courage to kiss her, but she had started crying after he did so. 

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t remember the moment. It was certainly… unique. Had I’d known you’d cry, I might have held off.” He says softly still inwardly cringing at the idea that he’d made her cry. “You never did explain why you cried…”

After the tears started, she had bid a hasty goodnight and shut the door in Simon’s face rather abruptly. Things had been a little awkward afterwards, but upon her insistence, Simon eventually accepted that it wasn’t necessarily his fault she’d shed tears. 

“It’s kind of silly now, in retrospect.” She mumbles into Simon’s shoulder. “Before… Makarov… There was one night Johnny and I had gotten a little drunk, and he’d bet me that you’d wait until something like my birthday to kiss me.” She sniffles, trying to clear her nose. “When you kissed me, I remembered that bet and the memory kind of startled me, because it felt like Johnny was shouting ‘I told you so!’ from the afterlife or something. So I guess I owe him a drink the next time I see him.”

Simon chuckles slightly at the explanation, relieved that her tears hadn’t been exactly his fault. “He was right on target with that one. I didn’t think I’d have the guts to do it, but I’m glad I did.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence, the warmth of the bed helping them both feel a little more relaxed after tonight’s ordeal. 

She yawns, the adrenaline from the nightmare finally starting to wear off. “Sorry for manhandling you earlier.” 

“It’s alright, it was just a nightmare, it can be incredibly disorienting sometimes. I’m just glad you’re feeling a little better.” He smooths his hand across her hair before pulling the blankets back around them. 

She takes a deep breath, letting the warmth of Simon’s embrace comfort her. He tucks the blankets around them, settling into the bed as they get sleepy again. He continues rubbing his hand up and down her back a little longer as she drifts off to sleep, feeling at ease that he’s there to comfort her. 

He presses one last kiss to her head before drifting off to sleep himself, comforted by the fact that his lover is safe in his arms. 

A/N: Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated! (Requests are also still open)

Masterlist

[minigirl87]

Damaged goods & no returns Chp.1

Steven Grant x Female reader

Summary:-

You're invited to an exclusive party that will change your life by your best friend. It turns out to be an auction for high society women to by sex slaves. While having a walk around, you find a shy and nervous man in the library. The man turns out to be Steven Grant. There are no mentions of Marc or Jake, but that they will appear in the future. I had this idea after reading a book about women's sexual fantasies as I just saw Steven in my mind.

I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

Warnings:- ⚠️🔞

Do not interact if under 18. Mentions of sex. Talk of sex slavery. I wanted to explore something darker as I've got over 100 followers. No sex in this chapter.

Word Count:- 1460

Everyone knows money runs the world, and money brings privileges. But old money is a different world entirely. it's a strange world of antiquum, eccentricity, and rules. Like a private members club where nothing is spoken about outside the members' walls.

Mrs Bradley is the epiphany of being an eccentric of New York society, an 84 year old woman who dresses and behaves like a 1960s southern belle with her favourite word if she liked you being “Darlin”. Very few times, it is an old and new mix, but between you and your friend Rebecca Mrs Bradleys, the great niece it has. Your Father had been a very successful with a transport company that had travelled all over the world now.

 You and Rebecca had a solid friendship of a few years, having met at a dinner party that your dad had held to celebrate a deal with Rebecca’s dad. You both clicked, and friendship blossomed from a dinner party conversation to crying on the phone at 2 am. About both your exes and everyone in between building love and trust leading to this moment.

Everyone knew about Mrs Bradleys eccentric parties that only women attended. Rumours were abound about what happened at these ladies parties, did she run a male brothel, or was it just a bunch of women getting drunk and loose without their partners. Women from ages  20 to 100 would be seen entering the Bradley mansion. So tonight you would see for yourself.

 Standing waiting, look out your lounge window for the car to collect you. Smoothing out your plum velvet cocktail dress, the scent of black opium filling the air as you do so. Your phone beeps with a message from Rebecca saying that they’d be their in 5 minutes. Putting your phone in your matching plum clutch you grab your silver grey faux fur coat and checking you have everything and head outside locking your front door and head to the car as the driver stands at the open door waiting for you to enter.

The car door clicks shut as your body melts into the buff leather of cars interior as the vehicle moves along the road. Rebecca sits smiling lips, matching her fuchsia silk evening dress

“Nervous about this evening” her voice brings you back to reality as you notice that you're fiddling with your fingers.

“A little bit, I’ve heard a lot about your Aunts parties. I don’t want to make a fool of myself” you reply softly. Rebecca giggles, taking your hand, giving it a little squeeze of assurance. “My aunt loves you, she thinks you’re the sweetest little thing and insisted you come tonight” you blush in response, you had only met Mrs Bradley a few times and you were surprised by the comments. Sitting back quietly, contemplating the evening ahead, it was as if Rebecca could read your mind.

“I must tell you about the party. It's a....well, it's a sex slave auction” she stares at you awaiting your reaction. You face drains, and your mouth hangs open a few seconds before recovering your composure “A what?” the anger and disgust evident in your voice. Rebecca stares, thinking on how to respond without this blowing up.

“Yes as I said, my aunt deals with male sex slave for women who can afford their own private little pet. She’s done it for years and is successful at it. The men are trained to do other things so no one gets suspicious” The nonchalant way Rebecca responds is horrid as though she’s talking about a piece of dirt, not a human.

 The car pulls to a halt in front of the mansion. The large oak and iron doors are illuminated by flaming torches and two men dressed in moss green and gold livery great the guests as they arrive. You and Rebecca leave the car and grace the steps to go inside. Your heart is thumping in your chest, and bile rises in your throat. A man in the same livery carries a sliver tray of champagne, lifting a sparkling crystal flute of the golden bubbles in a white gloved hand passing one to both you and Rebecca nodding as you said thank you.

 The entrance hall was extremely extravagant, and you now know you’ve entered a different world. As you look around, you see various men aged 20-40 dressed smartly and conversing with various female guests. You imagine they're doing this to get the best bids and get to the wealthiest woman there. Rebecca looks at you sipping her champagne

“Please understand this is how our world works. They are well looked after men” You only nod in response to her. Mrs Bradley comes over and embraces her great niece and you. Telling you to enjoy yourselves and hoping that someone catches your eye.

You smile in response before asking if you may go look around at the art. In a flamboyant manner, she agrees and walks, taking Rebecca to talk in private about something. You wander off along a oak panelled hall into the library your about to walk over to study the painting above the fireplace when you notice a nervous looking man slightly hunched over in the chair his chocolates curls bouncing as he fidgets with his fingers.

 “Hello” You speak softly so as not to scare him. He looks up at you with massive chocolate eyes his reply is barely audible as he sits curled into himself. “Is everything OK?” You slowly walk over to him. A fat tear runs down his cheek as he shakes his head as his curls swaying about.

Kneeling in front of him “Are you one of Mrs Bradleys slaves? All the man does is whimper in response. You want to cuddle him and protect him. He’s nothing like the other men who appear happy in this arrangement. You’re about to ask him his name when Mrs Bradley heels clacking along the floor into the room and angrily looking at the man.

“STEVEN” she says through gritted teeth “why are you in hear you should be out mingling try to find a forever home again” You raise your eyebrows at the word again as the man known as Steven grabs your arm. You finally hear him speak he has a London accent and sounds so soft.

“Yes mistress, I won’t be returned again”

“three times Steven you’ve been returned to me. I can’t keep you if you’re returned again” The venom in Mrs. Bradleys word makes Steven shake against you. You make a decision right there and then, and you’ll deal with everything later.

“Mrs Bradley. How much for Steven?”

Mrs Bradley looks taken aback “You want him out all the other handsome and more socially astute men you want him?” Steven shakes behind you his grip on your arm tightening. “yes. How much?” You felt disgusted talking like this, but you wanted to help Steven.

“Well he’s damaged goods, and I need rid of him. No returns, and he’s $20.000” Closing your eyes and shaking your head at Mrs Bradleys words. “Bank transfer, okay?” You reach into your clutch for your phone. Realising that you’re seriou, Mrs Bradley switches her southern charm back on.

“course Darlin” she walks over to the roll top desk in the library, sitting down her bangles jingling as she sorts paperwork and a tablet. You sign and transfer the money over to her, and she gives you a receipt. You look at the receipt and see it describes the painting that’s above the fireplace. You look shocked as she nods at Steven, and Steven shakily gets up and walks to the fireplace, lifting the painting off the wall and walking up to you.

You realise what Mrs Bradleys doing covering herself so that she can’t get into trouble. You look at her and force a smile.

“I think it’s best I leave now, Mrs Bradley. Have a good evening” You walk away with Steven behind you, clutching the painting or clutching his pain you can’t decide. Mrs Bradley nods with a smile, bidding good evening as she walks along the hall in front of both you and Steven as a car pulls up at the entrance to take you home. She says something about Stevens' belongings being brought to yours tomorrow. You only nod in response as you get in the car behind Steven.

 The chauffeur closes the door with a click before getting in and driving away from Bradley Manor. You look at Steven who’s sitting looking out the car window at the passing street lights. You feel nothing but pure love for Steven, and  you vow to help and protect him. Steven senses you, looking at him he turns to look at you with a gentle smile.

To be continued........

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[justyouraverageficwriter]

U Go Girl

Shin Yuna x Male Reader

Genre: Smut, Shorts, Vanilla

WC: 1460

A/N: Still not over this Yuna so wrote a quick fic while I had a small spare time. Well enjoy.

Your thumb is busy scrolling through Instagram. You are at it again, it's a guilty pleasure. Going photo after photo, checking how hot and gorgeous the account owner is; lusting over her overflowing sex appeal. You're careful enough not to accidentally like anything, it will be so weird if that happens. For sure it's not new to her, receiving a notification of someone liking her not so recent posts. You're quite confident you are not the only one lurking on her account given her appearance and online presence so it should not matter that much. However, you are a special case.

Shin Yuna. Even her name sounds downright sinful, just like her face and that damn body. You reach out under your pants to adjust your stiffening member as it starts to become uncomfortable, you just can't help it. The act is kind of sick to be honest, getting turned on and imagining lewd things. Still it is the only thing to do to relieve yourself, it's not like you can bed here soon or ever. Fucking her brains out and be done with it, the sexual desire for her; it sounds like a really good idea but an impossible one. Yuna has enough dicks already to choose from when and where she wants it, and besides she's your step-sister.

"I see you're checking my Instagram again."

Fuck! You've been in too deep in your thoughts that you did not notice someone walking in. Not to mention it's your step-sister. She shouldn't be here though, she should be at the university both of you are attending.

"Again? What do you mean again?" You turn around to face her and your jaw drops. Your eye travels from her head to her feet, marveling the perfection. The wavy hair, the dreamy eyes, her tiny waist and broad hips shaped in a perfect hourglass, and her legs for days. She's built to be fucked.

"You're drooling, Oppa." She's a tease and you know it.

"I -ah, what are you wearing anyway? Go and change. And your photos in IG too, you're showing too much skin." You try your best to sound like a concerned big brother. You don't know how you fare though.

"Do you want to fuck me, Oppa?"

"What? Are- you crazy? I'm your step-brother."

"And? I don't see a problem. And besides I always want to have sex with you right from the moment we first met". Yuna starts to take off her checkered pink shirt, then it drops to the floor. Purposefully biting her lip and looking away.

She's done quick work with what she is wearing underneath the shirt to expose her perky tits. You swallow your saliva as it quickly pools in your mouth. She is right, you are drooling. You want more. You need more.

"Still not enough huh?" Shin Yuna reaches out to undo her belt. That's when you lost it and lunged at her before she could unclasp it herself. Pinning Yuna against the wall, you could not restrain yourself from being rough. The contact of both of your lips is sudden, but she returned it with such fervor that you know she's enjoying it too. So much for being a big brother, she's too hot for her own good.

You raise Yuna's hands above her head, fully exposing her godly upper body. The excitement is way out of control. You'll feast on every inch of her, you put a mental note. Then you start with her neck, kissing and biting and licking like a total maniac. Her skin is soft and creamy that you could almost taste it literally.

"Ahhhh- that's it, Oppa. I'm yours to use however you want."

That's the green light. Literally you didn't skip anything as you explored her, making a quick stop to suckle on her nipples sitting perfectly on top of her breasts. Each kiss, each lick, each nibble, you thought it would slowly satisfy your desires but it turns out you keep getting hungrier for more. 

Her pants soon follow her shirt, dropping on the floor after you hastily take it off. "Fuck Yuna, you're so sexy". The words just naturally spill from your mouth as you pin her again against the wall. "This is going to be our little secret. Our parents will kill us".

"Our dirty little secret". Yuna seductively smiles while stroking your hard dick and maintaining eye contact, getting even harder each time. She's again way too fast in taking off your clothes. "Your dick is so big, Oppa. I can't wait to have it inside me."

You turn her around to face the wall and take off her underwear. "You want my dick, you say?" You slap her ass cheek hard enough to mark her glossy skin red.

"Yes Oppa, I need your dick inside me."

Everything happens very fast, and you could not really control yourself. No more foreplay, straight down to business. You align your dick into Yuna's already dripping wet pussy, rubbing your tip to have a bit of lubrication and plunge without even thinking twice. You don't care that you'll hurt her, you just want to destroy and use her as you see fit.

"Ahhhhh f-fuck you're so big Oppa. I don't even know how it all went in." 

Of course she's feeling discomfort, you didn't give her time to adjust to your size after all. You could stop fucking her right from the bat. However she doesn't complain, her body tells you she likes it rough too. Evident in her satisfied moans.

"Hmmm you're so tight baby sister, ahhh- fuck I wish I did this sooner." The strides of your thrusts do not let up, continuing to fill her womanhood with the ever growing need to chase your orgasm.

"Me too- hmmmm, I wish I seduced you before. Ahhhh- please slap me again Oppa. I've been a bad sister, thinking about my fuck- thinking about you while other guys fuck me."

You oblige her request as another slapping sound is heard. Hands on her slender waist, you pull her as you pierce through her insides to reach new depths. Yuna moans even louder. "Good thing Mom and Dad are not here, or else they'll hear how loud you are, little sister." You kiss her lips to temporarily silence her noise. Yuna moaning in your mouth turns you on even more.

You pull Yuna and push her into the bed, you want her in front of you while you fuck her. You want to see her face twitch in pleasure, you want to see her body tremble in the extreme highs of sex. Taking your place as you spread her legs, placing a pillow underneath. Then you watch your dick disappear again inside her. Both of you exhale a satisfied sigh, sometimes good old vanilla is the best way to go.

Shifting the phase into a more rhythmic manner, Yuna's moans start to become more sensual. You stimulate her neck for added pleasure in which she squirms even further. Adding another layer to the stimulating things is hearing her short breath gasps close to your ear. 

"Damn Oppa, is this how you fuck your girlfriends? No wonder they- oh my God- why are you so fucking good at this?" Her hands travel down your butt, pulling you in deeper, shortly prolonging your thrusts.

"You're such a naughty little one, you want more little sister?" You now speed up your movement on the purpose of reaching the zenith of your lusts. Yuna's grunts and moans tell you she's close to her orgasm as well. She didn't have to answer your question.

"Oppa, I'm going to cum soon. Your dick feels so good, I can't, I can't. I-ahhhhhh." You feel her insides clamp and pulsate around you as each wave or her orgasm hits her. But you did not stop, you have your own orgasm that is on the brink of exploding as well.

From what feels like forever, doing your best to extend the session as long as possible, you pull out of her and cum in her mouth. Your world turns to white just like the ropes of semen in Yuna's mouth and face. It is the last scene you remember before you collapse and chase your breath.

"Please tell me we'll be doing this again, Oppa." The next thing you know she's licking your juices off her fingers as she cleans her face. Her smile is from ear to ear, you know she's more than satisfied.

"Not here in the house, we won't."

"We'll see about that. I could be really persuasive."

"God Yuna, you're a slut."

"God Oppa, you've fucked me so good. Of course, I want to do it again wherever I want it."

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

[robinsno1lesbian]

How about phone sex with neighbor!robin while she’s away on a trip somewhere? Like her whispering filthy things down the phone and telling you exactly what she wants you to do?

neighbor!robin x fem!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1460

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content (MDNI), phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, reader is horny and sex-deprived lmao, use of "good girl", i think that's it? (oh not proofread of course, but that's nothing new)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i'm going on another little vacation at like 01.00am tonight, i'm ready to stay up all night and write fanfic until my plane goes in the morning lmao

when your phone rings you jump. this is the call you've been waiting for all day. it's almost 10pm and you've been pacing back and forth for the past hours, waiting for her to finally call you. you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear quickly. "robin?!" her familiar, raspy voice at the other end of the line chuckles. "hi sweet girl" she whispers and shivers run down your spine. it's been less than 24 hours since she last called but that's been enough for you to miss the sound of her, the presence of your girlfriend that you feel through the phone. "missed me?" "so much" you answer truthfully and pick up the phone to walk over and lay on your bed. your eyes dart to her room, lights off and empty, where she would normally sit now. it's a sad sight, really. robin is only on a one-week trip, but this week seems to be stretching endlessly with no end in sight. "your room is empty" you whine into the speaker. "hmh" she hums "that's because i'm not there, honey" "i know" you roll over to look at something other than the house robin lives in. "how have you been?" "it's a little stressful-" robin tells you. you want to listen to her words, but the sound of her voice, that low rasp and the little cracks it carries, makes it impossible to focus on anything other than that "y/n? you still there?" "oh!" you exclaim "y-yeah- yeah of course. uh- what did you say?" robin laughs and even though you can't see her, you can picture the sight very well. "someone got distracted?" "it's just- god your voice" you trail off, leaving the rest to her imagination. robin falls silent for a moment before she clears her throat. "how have you been doing over there?" after a second, she adds: "without me...?" there's a familiar pull between your legs and you bite your lip, already holding back the urge to run your fingers down your body, over the swell of your breasts, and down to your center where hers would normally go. "terrible" you mumble. you don't bother to hide how breathless you sound. "and would you...want to do anything about that?" a grin flashes over your face. this is what you've been waiting for. "come on baby, answer me" robin whispers huskily. "do you want to touch yourself? want to ride your fingers as if there were mine while i get to listen to your pretty moans?" "fuck" you whimper.

"thought so" she says quickly and there's a rustling sound, as if she was taking off clothes herself. "why don't you tell me what you're wearing?"

you look down at yourself and bite your lip. not much, that's for sure. "i'm just in my underwear" "oh really?" you nod and then, because she obviously can't see, tell her: "your favorite. the red set..." robin exhales into her phone. her reaction makes you feel proud to have such an effect on her. "i wish i could see you" she mumbles absentmindedly "i wish i could be there for you" "what would you do?" robin scoffs and you scoot up on the pillows to sit with your legs bent at the knees. you run your palm over your breasts, enjoying the feeling of your nipples hardening against the lacy, thin fabric. when you take one between your index and your thumb, your head falls back and a shaky moan erupts from your throat. "what was that...?" she whispers teasingly. "what are you doing over there hm?" "i- i'm just- uh- i'm playing with my nipples" robin hums in satisfaction. "good girl" she tells you and you moan again. "imagine it was me yeah? imagine it's me playing with those pretty tits of yours okay? god you're so pretty, you know that? i want to see you so bad" "what would you do robin? please i- oh- gotta know" "i would take my time with you" she explains and you can't help but whine. "hmh, yeah...i would lay you down and touch you all over, can you do that? run your hands over your sides and hips?" you do as you're told; hold the phone against your ear with your shoulder while you run your hands down your body like robin has asked of you. a shuddered breath falls from your lips and robin chuckles. "feels nice doesn't it?" you confirm it with an embarrassingly whiny noise that you can't seem to feel ashamed of, not when robin curses under her breath when she hears it. "please" you whimper. "please let me touch myself robin-" she sighs through the speaker and you swear there is a slight shake in her breathing. you're almost certain you can hear the sound of her touching herself echoing in the background. almost. "please" you repeat and finally, robin gives in. "alright" she says firmly. "trail a hand down that pretty body of yours okay? but don't move too fast. make it slow, yeah?" "oh thank you" you whine and do as she has told you. you run your flat palm down between your breasts slowly, goosebumps rising as your fingertips brush by. eventually, you're practically cupping yourself through your panties. the heat that has been growing between your legs sits damp against your fingers now.

"what- what now?" you can hear robin's heavy breathing. by now you're sure she is touching herself already and that she is one step ahead of you. "now" she mumbles "i want you to take care of yourself for me. come on. be a good girl and fuck that pretty pussy of yours for me" you whine loudly when you finally have her permission. you push your panties aside and insert two fingers into the dripping heat. you moan when you feel so wonderfully full for the first time in so long. just a couple of strokes are enough for you to know that you won't last long like that. "just like that" robin's voice whispers into your ear "just like that pretty girl. pump those fingers like you'd want me to fuck you" a whimper is the only thing you manage when you pick up the pace of your hand. "are you- ah fuck- are you-?" robin makes somewhat of a giggling noise that is cut off by a groan on her end. "of course sweet girl. do you think i could just sit here and listen to you playing with your pretty cunt without doing anything to myself, do you?" "fuck" you arch your back and grind down into your hand, causing your palm to brush past your clit in all the right ways. "just like that baby, just like that" robin pants "god, just wait until i get home. gonna fuck you so good, fuck-" "please, please fuck me" you're just babbling, desperately chasing your orgasm on your own fingers. "you want me to fuck you?" you can hear the squelching that is coming from between robin's thighs through the phone and you're certain she can hear yours too. "then be a good girl and fuck yourself just like you'd want me to. let me hear how you want it" you pick up the pace of your fingers, each stroke driving the heel of your hand against your clit at the same time. your arm is growing sore but you can't even think of stopping, only trying to mimick the way robin would fuck you normally. "god, i can hear it baby" she praises breathlessly. "good girl" "robin" you whisper "robin i think- fuck- i'm close" the woman groans in response "good me too, me too" your breath hitches in your throat and nothing but a high-pitched noise comes past your lips. "fuck, fuck, fuck" you cry and squirm on your sweat-soaked sheets. "i'm gonna cum y/n. come on. cum for me" that is when you lose it. the last thing you manage is an uncontrolled "i'm cumming" before your vision goes white and the pleasure rips through your body. you briefly sense robin's moans and groans from out of the phone and the sensation of your cum flowing out between your fingers but that is about it. you drop your head back and just let the pleasure take over. you're sure that, at some point, you scream out her name, but you can't seem to remember properly when the first aftershocks cause your legs to shake around your hand. once you have caught your breath enough to speak, you hold the phone closer to your ear again. "robin?" you whisper almost shyly. "fucking hell y/n" robin groans. "you're so in for the best sex ever once i get back, you hear me?"

[lifblogs]

Do You Not Trust Me?

Day 4 of Neurodivergent Tech Week Prompt: "Do you not trust me?" "Absolutely not. Next question." @neurodivergent-tech-week

Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 1460 Summary: Crosshair decides to go with Clone Force 99 after the destruction of Kamino. Tech wants to scan for an inhibitor chip, just to be safe. READ ON AO3

Tech was adding just a few touches to his scanner, his body tense because of who sat across from him near the hyperdrive computer, hands bound.

Crosshair let out a huff, hanging his head.

“Do you not trust me?” he asked, knowing the nature of the scanner Tech was working on.

Tech’s solder sparked blue into the ship.

The others were busy, leaving Tech to his business with Crosshair. In truth, he was only doing it out of curiosity, though he was ordered to by Hunter, but given the situation…

“Absolutely not,” he stated quite easily. “Next question.”

“I see you still have your sass.” Crosshair’s voice lacked the usual hissing strength to it. He was clearly ashamed from asking them to help him off Kamino.

“As do you, I’m sure.” Tech lowered the scanner. “It’s not just about trust,” Tech said. “You know I have to verify this.”

Crosshair let out another huff, leaning back in his seat, and stretching out his long legs.

Tech pulled his legs in.

“Hunter wants you to verify it, to see if I’m lying.”

Ugh. “Crosshair, what reason have you given us to trust you? You lured us to Kamino at the Empire’s orders, you shot your own squad”— Crosshair turned away; perhaps at the fact that the Bad Batch was no longer his squad?—”you told us you believe in the Empire, and are loyal to them, and then you ask us to get you off Kamino despite your own pride, but since then you have not made your allegiance clear.”

Tech finished with the scanner, and set his tools aside.

“There, all done.”

“Tech, I know you. I know you like to look at every side, like to understand as much as you can about—about everything, really. Now look at the other evidence.”

“Why? Will you be staying with us, or is your loyalty to those who destroyed our home more important to you?”

Tech stood, and tried scanning Crosshair, but he stood too, shoving him. Tech shoved back.. Perhaps their altercation was too loud because Hunter noticed, exiting the cockpit in a rush, and getting in between them. Crosshair snarled when he pulled them apart.

“Stop it. Both of you. Crosshair, sit down.”

“Make me.”

“How old are you?” Hunter asked.

“Fine,” Crosshair growled, taking a seat. “But I’m only listening to you so I actually make it to my destination.”

“We’re not the ones who want you dead,” Hunter said. “Think about that.” He turned to Tech. “You’re all right here? You can handle him?”

Guilt struck Tech for a moment as his hand just brushed against one of his blasters holstered at his hips.

“Of course.”

“Good, now check if he still has his chip.”

“I don’t,” Crosshair swore.

“Then what’s the harm in the scan?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Crosshair told him.

Tech cleared his throat, going over in his head what he wanted to say. He should say it now. No, no… Now! Hmm, maybe it needed some tweaking.

Hunter, may I speak with you? I believe you are riling Crosshair up. I can handle him.

Yes, that was perfect.

By the time he had his script, Crosshair was in Hunter’s face.

Oh no, was he too late?

He still had to try.

Tech cleared his throat again, getting at least Hunter’s attention (Crosshair was still sneering at Hunter). “Hunter,” he started, worried his voice was coming out too loud (not like he could change that at the moment; there was just too much to think about), “may I speak with you?”

Hunter drew his attention from Crosshair, which seemed to take a mighty effort. Tech didn’t blame him.

“Fine, but I’m gonna keep an eye on him.”

“That is preferable,” Tech said, breaking his script, and finding the rest of the words falling away from him as the connection broke.

Scrag.

“So what is it?” Hunter asked.

How am I supposed to say it now?

Just try.

You have to try.

Tech tried to ignore the sudden anxiety in his gut at finding the right words, and said, “I believe you are riling Crosshair up. Clearly he is distressed by your presence.”

“And he isn’t by yours?”

“He is, but to a lesser extent. I believe this will go more smoothly if I handle it on my own.”

Hunter eyed Tech, and then Crosshair. He looked back at Tech, and Tech dodged his gaze, looking at his eyebrows instead, and the dark ink of his tattoo.

“Fine, but holler if you need help.”

Hunter went back to the cockpit, and the door opening earned Tech a glance at Omega peeking through, curious as always. Besides, she seemed willing to forget Crosshair’s transgressions.

AZI was in the cockpit as well, making it more crowded. He had volunteered to check if Crosshair still had his chip, but Tech wanted to see it for himself, with his own tool.

“Glad Hunter decided I don’t need another babysitter,” Crosshair hissed out as Tech came back over.

“Perhaps I was the one who didn’t want him around.”

“You? Aren’t you all one big, happy family?”

“No,” Tech stated. “I fear we are missing a piece.”

They went silent.

“Please, let me scan you.”

“Fine,” Crosshair relented. “As long as your stupid machine doesn’t touch my head.”

“It won’t.”

Still, Tech held in a wince as he scanned Crosshair, getting a closer look at his scar.

“Did that require skin grafts?” he asked.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business. You don’t trust me, remember? So I don’t trust you.”

“I miss the time when we could trust each other,” Tech admitted, voice perhaps more monotone than he had intended.

“Just finish your stupid scan.”

Tech did, and… no inhibitor chip. He felt a strange lightness in his chest that Crosshair had been telling the truth.

But then that meant he had been telling the truth about his loyalty to the Empire as well, which then felt like a stab in the gut.

“It appears you were not lying,” Tech managed to get out.

“As if I didn’t already know that.”

“You want to be left alone,” Tech stated, still knowing Crosshair despite him being an enemy now.

To his surprise, Crosshair paused.

Tech almost sat back down, even twisting his hips to do so.

“Yes.”

Crosshair was lying. Tech knew it like he knew how to fly the Marauder, knew it like he knew that a venomous twirfang didn’t actually need its venom to kill its prey, knew it like he knew the sound of a purrgil about to jump to hyperspace.

Tech left him to his lie, wondering if he would ever look back at his recording of that moment.

Despite how crowded it was in the cockpit, Tech felt devastatingly lonely. He wondered if Crosshair felt this way. But there was no way to fix it, not unless Crosshair took the first steps.

Tech sat in the pilot’s seat, silent, brain trying to script what he could say to Crosshair to fix this, but there was no script for this pain, no script for what Crosshair had done to them and had tried to do, no script for what they had done to Crosshair, no script for the sheer encompassing malice and enormity of the Empire.

Tech, unable to sit still with his frustrating helplessness, continued work on one of his many projects, telling the others about it till they were annoyed, and past that. Though, Wrecker smiled at him through it, and Echo did seem interested for quite some time. Same with Hunter and Omega. But he knew he was too much sometimes. They listened anyway. Annoyance didn’t change anything about love. Tech was glad that after twenty minutes they at least pretended to listen; perhaps they had been doing it all along, not understanding what he was working on. He valued the questions Omega asked, and valued that they let him speak as long as he wished.

Yet Crosshair sat just outside the door, alone.

Would he have listened to Tech for some time as well? Had he tried to listen in?

Tech resisted the urge to check on him. Echo was handling that—Echo, who understood being used by an enemy to hurt his own brothers. Perhaps something would come of this.

His mind played over and over again, Do you not trust me?

Crosshair hadn’t tried to take their weapons, hadn’t hurt any of them once Kamino had been fired upon, and he had saved Omega. The evidence before Tech painted a confusing picture, one he would want to puzzle out, teasing out the knotted strands until everything was right again.

Do you not trust me?

Yes, yes, I do trust you.

[useless-catalanfacts]

Casca de reis 🍰 a cake made of marzipan stuffed with candied sweet potato, candied egg yolk or pumpkin. It's made in the shape of a ring, a snake or another animal, and accompanied with dragée almonds, dried fruit, anise sweets, candied pumpkin and other candied fruits.

The casca is from the Valencian Country, where it's eaten on Three Wise Men Day (January 6th, the day we get the Christmas presents brought by the Three Wise Men), traditionally either brought by godparents as a gift for their godchildren or as a gift left by the Three Wise Men. Families can choose either this casca de reis or the other traditional dessert for the holiday, tortell de reis.

This recipe is documented since at least the year 1520, when it appears in the recipe book Llibre del Coc by Mestre Robert. The word "casca" (in diminutive, "casqueta") already appears in a list of sweets that are part of a poem by in Jaume Roig's famous book Espill, published in 1460.

1st photo and information from Tasta'l d'ací project about traditional Valencian cuisine.

2nd photo from Claudia&Julia cooking blog.

[frogsmuahh037]

Joel miller hurt/comfort

this is my first time trying to write something like this so please be nice also sorry about spellings 🫶

joel miller x fem!reader

you’re having a bad day and joel is there to support you (we all love a little hurt comfort every once in a while)

1460 Words

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she walks into her home joel and her have made for themselves in Jackson. she was having a bad day everything was just going wrong, she was helping in the gardens she smashed not one but two pots (two separate occasions by the way) she sliced her hand open somehow on the pot which made clean up a whole lot messier and that was only the start of it. when she finally got home she was overwhelmed all she wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep. she walks into the house and it’s a mess after joel saying he’d promise to clean up which obviously didn’t happen. instead of greeting joel in the living room like she usaly would she headed straight upstairs just wanting to get away from it all. As she headed to bed, Joel was leaning against the doorway watching her, his brow slightly scrunched together. Once he saw that she had settled herself in, he sighed and approached her. He wanted to leave it at that, but he felt like they had to talk about what had been happening. So he sat down at the foot of her bed, hands on his knees.

"Sweetie, we have to talk."

she looked up from the cocoon of duvets she was wrapped in meeting joel’s eyes she knew the tone of his voice, the slight hesitation that it wasn’t a conversation that he wanted to have.

“what about?..”

Joel paused, his eyes slowly looking at her for a moment. Then he breathed in and out once.

"Can you come out from under those covers? Please?"

she sat up pushing the covers to her lap she bit at her cracked bottom lip feeling an anxiety ball in her stomach “what’s wrong joel?”

Joel crossed his left leg on top of his right, moving his hands to his lap. In a neutral expression, he looked her in the eye again, and sighed. "Sweetie, I'm worried about you."

“why? i’m fine” she looked up at him smiling hoping that would calm his worry’s and she wouldn’t have to further this conversation

"No, you're not." He quickly shot down, leaning forward in his chair again. "I'm not blind; I see the way you act sometimes. This whole thing with the gardening...that's not normal."

“gardening..isn’t normal?” she smiled trying to brush it off.

Joel gave her a soft smile, but he shook his head and spoke up again."No, sweetheart, losing your temper over a couple of broken pots isn't normal. Not when you're such a calm, level-headed person. Are you sure everything's okay?"

“how do you… i’m fine it was just a mistake how did you know about that..?” she felt herself get more anxious looking down at her lap fidgeting her her hands.

Joel looked up and raised his eyebrows slightly, wondering how to explain it in a way that wouldn't make him seem like a stalker.

"One of the neighbors...umm...they mentioned it in passing. Said you seemed really stressed out. I wanted to make sure you were okay and..." Joel paused for a moment, realizing he had no way to avoid sounding like a creep. "And that I didn't need to worry."

“well you don’t because i’m fine joel” she pulls the covers off her hoping to escape the conversation by making some excuse “i think i’m gonna go make some dinner it’s getting late”

"Is it something I'm doing? Or is it something to do with the past; something that makes you like this sometimes?" Joel shook his head.

"It's not just the pots, and deep down you know that. I know there's more going on, so how about you talk to me instead of brushing me off?" He paused and looked her in the eyes, showing some worry.

“like what joel? what have i done” she felt herself getting irritated with the constant questioning she knew he wanted to do right by her but she just felt so weird talking about that kinda stuff

"Sweetie, you know that there's something...off." He paused for a moment. "Look at how you've been acting. Always in a bad mood, always irritated and you snap at me for no reason. I'm not angry, I'm not blaming you, I just want to know what's going on." He paused again, and sighed.

"And if there's anything I can do to help." He said, his tone now softer.

she felt the guilt seeping through her. she knew she hasn’t been a very good partner recently and joel’s been so good through all of it he didn’t deserve that. she felt her chest clam up and a lump in her throat that she couldn’t quite swallow “i-i’m… i’m sorry joel”

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're going through a lot, I understand that. But I am here to support you however I can, and you just have to be open with me and let me know what's going on." He paused, and pulled away from the hug. He placed his hands back in his lap. "Please."

“i don’t know how.. how to explain it. everything has just been going wrong and every time i try to fix it everything just gets worse and i- i don’t know what to do”

she only just noticed the tears rolling down her face clouding her vision. Joel gave her a warm, empathetic smile, then got up from the chair. As he stood, he knelt down to her level and hugged her once more. He just stayed still for a moment, but then spoke softly.

"It's okay, sweetie. Sometimes life just decides it wants to kick you in the ass and you just have to take it. You know you can always count on me to support you through it all. That's what I'm here for."

“i just feel so weak asking for help i should be able to handle this kinda stuff on my own why… why can’t i?” she mumbled into joel’s chest her tears getting heavier as she comes to terms with how she’s feeling. Joel kissed the top of her head, not speaking for a couple of seconds. He then hugged her tighter and sighed once more.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to handle it on your own. There's nothing shameful about asking for help. You're one of the toughest people I know and even you get overwhelmed now and then. Life's just an ass like that." He paused, then looked her in the eyes once more. “So talk to me, okay? I'm here to help."

“i will… im sorry for being so mean to you, you didn’t deserve it” she looked up at him still feeling guilty.

Joel smiled warmly and waved his hand. "Sweetie, no apologies necessary. I understand what you're going through, and I know you don't mean any of it. What's past is past, and I'm not upset. So how about we start over? Clean slate?" He paused and held out his hand to her. "Shake on it?" He said, his tone slightly light-hearted and teasing.

she smiled laughing at his antics. “yeah shake on it”she takes his and shaking it “do you think we could..ehm go to bed?” she was starting to feel really tired she felt awkward asking for some reason.

"Sure we can, sweetheart." He leaned down and picked her up from the floor. "You ready for this big strong man to carry you to bed?" He said jokingly, walking towards the bedroom. As he entered the room, he sat down on the bed and looked at her for a moment, smiling before he placed her down and leaned back onto the mattress.

she giggles grasping onto joel not wanting to fall “don’t you dare drop me”

"I wouldn't dare drop you, sweetheart. Not when you're so precious to me." he lays her down on the bed getting her comfortable he lays next to her "Come and cuddle with me," He said, opening up his arms and gesturing towards himself. they get into bed and she snuggled up to joel’s chest as her wrapped her arms around her

Joel let go of an arm around her and pulled the covers over them both, moving closer to her once more. He rubbed his hand against her back and looked to see if she was comfortable, and then kissed the top of her head again. "Are you ready to take a little bit of a nap? It's late, and you seem pretty tired," He said with a kind, calm tone.

“mhm~ yes please” she mumbled into his chest. They both stayed still for a moment, before Joel began to slowly nod off, feeling his eyes get heavier by the second. As he felt her do the same, he softly whispered,

"Get some sleep, Sweetheart."

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

THANK YOUU~ i hope you enjoyed it i know it’s a little short and i’d love any feedback you have <33

p.s. requests are open!

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Omfg congrats on the 2222! I’m sure many more to come!

Alright , hear me out. This idea consumed my brain the entire weekend.

AU Stripper!Frankie

I know, kinda out of character for him, but I can’t help it.

I recently « stumble » upon Magic Men of Australia on tik tok and instantly my mind went to Frankie.

Reader could be at his show and he chose her to come up on stage … after that , you write what you want .

What do you think Cee ?

Sweet anon - I am saving the best for last! Ngl, I might have drooled several times while writing stripper!Frankie. I might also have blacked out when I first saw your ask, thank you for sending in this delicious request. I hope you enjoy this cheeky oneshot, because 1.4k does not count as a drabble 😂 This reminds me of my dearest LJ's @prolix-yuy SW!Frankie universe, do go read it if you haven't yet!

Frankie Morales x stripper AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 1460 words (sorry) | warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, bachelorette party (mis)behaviour, mentions of food

Okay, this is definitely not your scene.

The said scene being a rowdy bachelorette party in an intimate, soundproofed room draped in plush dark velvet and deep-seated sofas, disco lights pulsing in time with the booming bass that shakes your bones. 

And oh, and there’s a half-naked stripper gyrating to the music. Obviously.

Not that he doesn’t look good doing it. He absolutely does, and not in that chiselled, perfectly sculpted way you imagined all strippers would look like. He’s hot in a realistic way, if that makes sense - his arms are strong, his chest is broad and firm, but there’s just a touch of softness to his tummy that makes him human. 

It’s been a long, long time since you’ve seen a naked man. Heck, who are you kidding, when was the last time you even saw a topless man?

But he might as well be completely starkers. The shorts he’s wearing are glorified panties, paper thin, and they do nothing to conceal the fact that he’s hung. You can see the whole business, front and back. For someone as well packed as he is between the legs, his behind is endearingly flat, but mercifully, it doesn’t seem to compromise his balance in any way.

The lean muscles in his arms flex and roll when he locks his hands behind his head, thighs bulging with corded muscle as he plants his feet, and then he thrusts - his bulge swinging heavily, defying gravity. 

He’s got to be half-hard, at least. There’s no way he’s that big standing at ease, so to speak. 

Of course, the girls are going wild. They’re screaming and hyperventilating, Cosmpolitans sloshing over manicured nails and staining their dresses as they throw dollar bills at him. He obliges, crawling onto the couch on all fours so that they can tuck the cash into the waistband of his shorts, copping a feel as they do.

Frankie doesn’t mind it. He plays along, grabbing the bride-to-be’s wrist after she smacks him on the ass, shoving her back into the couch before clambering over her. Getting onto his knees, he dances right in her face, grinning when she squeals and reaches around his waist to grab both his ass cheeks as he rolls his hips.

His eyes slide over to you, sitting a polite distance away as the other girls crowd around him, getting close and personal, not wanting to miss out on the action.

You, on the other hand, look like you’d rather be curled up in the far corner with a book and a warm drink. But he can tell that you’re trying your best, sipping away at your cocktail (with an endearing wince that you try to hide when you swallow), and bobbing to the music even though you’re clearly feeling out of place around your more outgoing friends.

Being the quiet one out of the guys, he gravitates towards your energy. 

Frankie always makes sure all of his customers have a good time in his session and that no one is left out, but he also wants you to be comfortable. Quietening his hips, he hops off the couch, taking two steps towards you, watching as your eyes widen, as if you want to bolt.

One corner of his lips inching upwards, he unfurls his fingers towards you, and the smile widens when you fit your smaller hand in the heart of his palm with a shy one of your own. Pulling you gently onto your feet, he surprises you with a firm tug next, spinning you around with your back to his chest. 

You smell sweet, like shampoo and soap. Not letting go of your hand, he puts his other one on your hip, and you instantly stiffen when your friends screech in excitement, obviously not used to being the centre of attention. 

Hooking his chin on your shoulder, he sways you to the music, his hips snug against yours. He feels you inhale sharply when his breath skims your skin, the shiver that goes through you unmistakable. He revels in your reaction, far more real and intimate than your friends’ drunken wandering hands. 

You slowly thaw in his arms, the tension easing out of your shoulders where the straps of your pretty dress sit, and he knows that you don’t mean to tease when the swell of your ass brushes his front, bolder as you move your hips to the beat.

When the song draws to a close far too soon, he turns you around, wrapping one arm around your waist to dip you backwards. You let go of his hand to grasp the back of his neck on reflex, and he takes the opportunity to glide one palm up the smooth expanse of your leg, before hitching it around his waist.

He sees more than hears the whimper that slips past your lips, and he may or may not be half-hard when he presses his hips between your thighs.

As your friends holler and wolf-whistle around you, he holds your gaze, not missing how your pupils blow wide in the flashing lights.

Then you duck your head, and he lets you go, the bride-to-be demanding his attention.

You happily fade into the background again, but he catches the way your knees buckle when you wobble on your heels back to the sofa.

You’re fucking adorable. 

The guys are tallying the tips for the bookkeeper in the break room when Pope comes in with a phone in his hand. ‘Fish, one of your customers left this behind. Do you know whose it is?’

Tapping on the lock screen - he sucks in a breath when you appear, posing with a big golden retriever. Your face is turned up into the sun, eyes closed in mid-laugh as the dog licks you on your cheek.

With a grunt, Frankie gets on his feet, a dull ache in the small of his back, which always happens when he thrusts a bit too vigorously. Tucking the phone safely in his pocket, he grabs his jacket and strides out, not seeing the guys looking curiously after him as he tosses over his shoulder, ‘Send me her address, Pope, I’ll drop it off.’

You jump when your laptop wakes up with a shrill ringtone. Clicking the green button, your best friend’s voice comes through the speakers. 

‘Hon, the strip club just called. You left your phone there.’

With a groan, your palm meets your forehead in a smack. ‘Oh shit, it always happens when I drink! Should I go pick it up, or -’

‘Don’t worry, I gave them your address.’

‘Wait, what? You gave them my address?’

‘Relax, they’re strippers, not serial killers.’

You shift your feet nervously. ‘Do you know who’s coming?’

‘The one who danced for us today, you lucky bitch.’

Your heart almost leaps out of your mouth as you panic. ‘What the - but I’ve taken off all my make up and I’m not wearing a bra, and I got fucking chili on the stove -’

Your doorbell rings, and you whisper, ‘Shit, he’s here!’

‘Say hi to the hottie for me, babe! Night!’

Padding on bare feet towards the door, you take a deep breath, and reach for the knob.

Warm brown eyes meet yours, but not before they dart over your wet hair and pyjamas. You cross your arms self-consciously, knowing that he must have caught a glimpse of your nipples under your thin sleep shirt.

He smiles, handing you the phone. ‘Glad I caught you before you went to bed.’

Jesus H. Christ. It really is a blessing that you didn’t know what he sounded like when he had his clothes off - 

You barely manage to squeak, your cheeks heating up. ‘Thanks so much for bringing it by, it was so clumsy of me.’

He shrugs easily, his gray tshirt bunching with the movement. ‘Happens. You’ll be surprised what people leave behind.’

‘What?’ you prompt, curiosity piqued.

‘I don’t strip and tell,’ he winks. ‘I’m Frankie, by the way.’

A handshake seems redundant after your close encounter earlier, so you give him your name and a smile. You admit, ‘I almost didn’t recognize you.’

He taps the beak of his cap. ‘It’s the hat.’

‘I like you better with clothes on,’ you blurt out impulsively, the alcohol still running thick through your veins.

He chuckles. ‘You might be the only one.’

He glances over your shoulder, breathing in the smell of simmering beef mince and tomatoes. ‘Are you cooking chili?’

You bite your lip. ‘Guilty. Case of midnight munchies.’

‘It smells delicious,’ he compliments you, lingering by the doorway and making no move to leave.

Emboldened, you ask, ‘Do you want some? I made way too much, as usaul.’

He grins, and it goes straight to your head. ‘I’d love to.’