#Not that that's this but I like it! It's closer than what I'd normally do haha

[sysig]

Shop talk (Patreon)

[david-watts]

kinda getting sick of the near daily ‘why don’t you do anything around the place’ argument from a hag who won’t even sneeze in the direction of being patient enough to like. let me do things

[imaginedisish]

Need 2 (Logan Howlett x f!reader)

A/N: So...I'm back already lol. This sort of just came to me last night. I was rewatching the first and second X-Men movies and got a little inspired. This is also inspired by the song "Need 2" by Pinegrove. Didn't think I'd be posting another fic already, but here we are. Hopefully y'all enjoy!

Summary: You and Logan have always been plagued with nightmares, so avoiding sleep is just something you two have in common...until you find yourselves in each other's beds, helping one another through your nightmares.

Warnings: 18+! Smut! Minors DNI! PWP. Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), Fingering, AFAB!reader, fem!reader, Reader has some hair at the nape of her neck that can be played with (length, color and texture are not described!), mutant!reader, cursing, canon typical violence, angst, praise kink, feelings, nightmares, friends to lovers, probably some grammatical errors, I think that's all?

Word Count: 3,906

Some nights, it was easier not to sleep. It was easier to go down into the kitchen, the living room, or one of the many libraries in the mansion and stay awake. It was easier than forcing yourself to go to bed, just to wake up screaming thirty minutes later. 

So tonight, like far too many nights, you’ve found yourself in your favorite corner in your favorite library in the mansion. You’re reading Simone de Beauvoir’s letters to Sartre when a familiar figure enters the room. 

“What’re you doing awake?” Logan’s voice is gruff, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his beater tight against his chest. “You should be asleep.”

“Can’t sleep,” You answer, placing a bookmark between the pages and shutting the book. You look up at the old grandfather clock on the other side of the room. 2:00 AM. “You should be sleeping too.” You smirk patting the free space next to you on the loveseat. 

He shakes his head. “Too stuffy in here.”

You roll your eyes, placing the book down on the couch. “Then what’s your plan, big guy?”

He holds up his beer and points down the hall. “Gonna sit in front of the T.V. You can too,” he pauses tentatively, “if you want.”

“S-sure,” you stutter. Why are you stuttering? You spend time with Logan constantly. This isn’t new. This is normal. You feel your heart rate pick up. This is ridiculous. This is a totally regular night. 

You stand and follow him down the hall and into another room, one with a lit fireplace and a television. You both sit down, leaving a generous amount of room between the two of you. Logan reaches for the remote and turns the T.V. on. He surfs through the channels before stopping on a movie you instantly recognize. 

“Casablanca?” You ask, turning towards him, letting yourself move just a bit closer as you do so. You feel like he’s moved closer in too. 

He nods, his eyes glued to the screen. “It’s a classic.”

You can’t help but smirk. “Never pinned you for the love story type.”

“You’d be surprised,” he says back as he turns towards you again. There’s a faint smile on his face. You swear his eyes flicker down to your lips for just a second before he turns to face the T.V. again. 

A few minutes go by like this, the two of you just inches away from one another. You can’t concentrate on the movie with him this close. It’s impossible. 

Despite the heat of the fire, you start to feel a chill. Goose bumps rise on your arms, and you pull your legs into your chest, your arms wrapping around your knees. 

Logan immediately notices, shifting to grab the throw blanket from behind him. “Cold?” He asks, taking the opportunity to move closer towards you as he tosses the blanket over the two of you. 

“Y-yeah, thanks,” you answer. But you’re still cold. You bring the blanket up so that it rests just under your chin. For such an old mansion, the A/C must work great. No wonder the fire was already lit when you and Logan got in here. 

Logan notices again. He rests his arm against the back of the couch. “You could…” He trails off, nodding his head to offer the space right next to him, in his arms. “Come over here?” You nod back, scooching closer until your side presses into his. 

He’s an absolute furnace. He pulls you into his chest, rubbing up and down your arm gently. He’s so warm. You instinctively curl into him, wanting nothing more than to be closer to him. For the first time in months, you feel comfortable enough—safe enough—to fall asleep. 

“Better?” He asks, his lips brushing against your forehead. 

You nod against his chest. “So much better.” You whisper. You can feel your eyelids growing heavy. You let them fall shut. Let yourself go. Give in. Finally. 

“Lo?” You quietly call out. You’re so close to sleep that you don’t even realize you’re speaking. 

You can feel his smile on the side of your head. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“You feel so nice.” You’re mumbling, half asleep. It’s nonsense, but it’s true. “So safe.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “You do too. Now get some sleep.”

You shake your head softly. “Only if you sleep, too.” 

You think you feel another kiss. One of his hands reaches up to play with the hair at the nape of your neck. “I will, I promise.”

You drift off to sleep, waking up just once about an hour and a half later to see Logan still on the couch beside you. He’s asleep, still holding you to his chest. You don’t wake him. You let yourself fall asleep again. 

You wake up a few hours later, this time in your own bed, the sun shining through your curtains. You notice a note next to your pillow. 

Glad you got some sleep. -Logan

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

You can hear him, his grunts, his screams. You jump out of bed and sprint down the hall. You don’t need a flashlight to find his room. You know the way by heart. You don’t even bother knocking. You burst in and shut the door behind you. 

You run over to the side of his bed and start to softly shake him. “It’s just a dream, Lo,” you call out to him. He doesn’t wake up. He’s still grunting, still tossing and turning. You feel helpless. “Logan, it’s okay.” You speak a bit louder this time, putting more of your weight on his shoulders as you shake him. Nothing. No change. 

“Logan, please wake up.” Louder again. And still nothing. “Fuck it.”

You climb onto the bed, maneuvering so that you can get on top of him. You’re straddling him now, which probably isn’t the world’s greatest idea. You shake his shoulders harder as he winces, his head thrashing against the mattress, his chest rapidly rising and falling. 

“Come on, Lo, wake up.”

And then, he’s sitting up, claws out, the tips just nudging the base of your throat. “It’s me!” You shout. “It’s just me!” You can hear the shing of his claws retracting. You look down to see that the collar of your shirt is sliced.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” He’s wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you into his chest, scanning your body frantically for any injury. He’s moving up and down your skin like a wildfire, checking every possible surface that he could have pierced or sliced. 

You try to stop him, but he refuses to listen. “You didn’t get me, Logan. I’m okay, really.” 

He pushes you down onto the mattress, carefully turning you over onto your stomach before you can protest. “I’m just checking your back, okay?”

“You couldn’t have touched my back. That’s physically impossible.” You try to turn back over, but he keeps you down, one hand pinned between your shoulder blades as the other pulls up your shirt to search your skin. You suddenly remember you aren’t wearing a bra. You’re not wearing any shorts, either. Just your oversized pajama shirt and panties.

His fingers gently trace your skin before reaching up to pull the shirt back down. He finally lets you turn over. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting on your knees, just a few inches away from Logan. It’s your turn to reach out to him now. You bring up a tentative hand to his shoulder; he trembles under your touch but doesn’t push you away. You move a bit closer, your knee slotting into the space between his thighs. Your hand slides up his shoulder to his neck, and he finally leans into your palm. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers again. He moves closer, shifting his thighs further into your own. “I never, ever want to hurt you.” He brings his arms back around you, hesitantly pulling you into his chest. You let him, let him hold you. You know he needs to—needs to feel someone else. You wrap your arms around his body too. 

“I know, Lo. It’s okay. No more apologizing.” You hold him tighter. “Are you okay?”

He hums as his face burrows into the crook of your neck. “Just a nightmare.” A part of you is surprised he’s letting you hold him and holding you back. “I fucked up your shirt.”

You let your head rest against his shoulder. “I know.” 

“Almost fucking killed you.” He’s trembling again like he wants to push you away. 

You hold him tighter. “You didn’t though,” You mumble against his bare skin. “Please don’t run away. Let me hold you, please.” 

He relaxes again, pulling you in tighter in response. “Why do you care about me?”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Why do you care about me?” You ask back. 

He scoffs. “Because I…” He trails off. You can tell he’s not giving you the whole truth. “I just do. You’re you. That’s all there is to it.”

“Exactly. And you’re you.” You can feel his lips ghost against your neck—not quite a kiss, but not quite nothing either. “So, I care about you too.”

“I don’t deserve it, the way you care about me.” His lips don’t move from that half-kiss position along your neck as he speaks. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Your voice is suddenly stern, assertive. “You deserve so much, Logan. So much.” Before you can even think about what you’re doing, you press a kiss against his bare shoulder. And then another. And another. 

“You should go back to bed.” His voice is low and hoarse. He finally presses a true kiss into your neck, too. 

You shake your head. “No,” you whisper. “Let me stay with you.”

“But what if I—” 

You cut him off. “Please.”

He doesn’t protest this time. He just guides you down to the pillows, keeping one arm tightly around your waist as the other brings the covers up and over the two of you. 

You stay intertwined, your legs tangled up with his, your chests pressed tightly together. You bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, gently raking your nails through his hair. His lips find your neck again, kissing that spot just underneath your ear. It’s chaste, but there’s something else there. You know there is. 

You can feel him relaxing, drifting off into sleep, and so you let yourself do the same. There’s nowhere you feel safer than with Logan. 

When you wake up, you’re still in Logan’s bed, but his side is empty. Again, there’s a note on the pillow next to you. 

Thank you. Hope this makes up for what I did. -Logan.

Underneath the note is his favorite Rolling Stones shirt.

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

You’re somewhere dark, sitting on a cold metal chair, your hands shackled in more cold metal. The air tastes like metal, too. And then it dawns on you: Magneto. 

His figure appears in front of you, his hand extended out towards something...perhaps someone. Towards no one? No. There he is, floating in front of you. Logan. “NO!” You yell. You can feel your throat burn as you shout.

“Let him go!” You scream. But Magneto doesn’t budge. He holds Logan in the air, bending the metal in his body. He stretches Logan’s claws out. You remember when Logan told you it hurts every time he unleashes them. You can’t imagine the pain he’s in now.  

“Logan!” You cry out. Your abilities don’t seem to work, no matter how hard you try. You’re powerless, helpless, useless. You echo his name repeatedly to no avail. 

You’re forced to sit and watch as his claws bend backward. Tears run down your face as Logan screams in agony. There’s nothing you can do. You thrash in place. 

“Let him fucking go!” You sob, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Logan! I’m so sorry. Oh fuck. I’m so sorry.” A familiar name calls for you in the distance, but you ignore it. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. “So fucking sorry.”

The voice shouts your name again. And again. Tears stain your cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble.

“It’s just a dream, come on, wake up for me sweetheart.” You know that voice. “I’m right here, just wake up.” 

Your eyes finally flutter open. There he is, in front of you, his solid frame heavy on top of you. “Lo?” You push yourself up to meet him. 

“It’s me, darlin’, It’s me.”

You throw your arms around him, sobbing into his bare chest. “Fuck,” you mumble against him. 

He wraps his arms tightly around your body, carefully bringing you back down to the bed. “It’s okay. It’s over now. I’m here.”

“How’d you know I was…” You trail off, swallowing harshly, not wanting to think about what you just dreamed of. 

“You called my name. I came the second I heard you.” His voice is soft but shaky. It dawns on you that you scared him. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Tears stream down your cheeks, your voice a trembling mess. 

He presses a soft kiss against your shoulder, and then that usual spot in the crook of your neck. He somehow manages to pull you tighter into his chest. “Don’t be sorry darlin’, please. Nothing to be sorry for.” 

“But I woke you,” you protest. “I scared you.”

“That’s fine, sweetheart.” His breath tickles the skin of your neck. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He’s kissing you more fervently than normal. There’s something panicked about his movements, like he’s still worried that you might not be fine. 

You take a deep breath. “Lo?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Can you stay with me?” You feel like a child, but you don’t care. You want to feel him. You need to be close to him. You can’t lose him. Not now. Not ever. 

His legs tangle with yours. “I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is a whisper now. 

You nod, pushing yourself further into him. “Need to feel you,” you say, running your hands along his back, his chest, his waist. You need him, every inch, every curve. All of him. 

“Darlin’,” he mutters. “What do you mean?”

You break away from him for just a second. His brows are furrowed. “Need you, Lo.”

You watch his throat bob as he swallows. “You have me.”

“No Logan I-I—” You stutter. “I want you. Need you. I need you closer. Please.” 

His eyes search yours, his hands finding their way under your shirt. His fingers climb higher, stopping just below your chest, where the hem of your bra would be. 

You inhale deeply and press harder into him. “Please, Lo. Please.”

“Sweetheart, is this really what you want?” You can feel his breath against your lips. He’s so close, but not close enough. “That dream…” He pauses. “If this is only because of the dream…”

You shut your eyes, remembering what you saw. You feel a tear slide down your still-wet cheek. You breathe deeply. “Wanted you before the dream,” you murmur nervously. 

“Darlin’, you gotta be careful saying things like that.” He presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. Your noses touch gently. He slots his legs higher between yours and pulls you closer. 

“Why?” You ask.

“Because I’ve never wanted someone the way I want you.” His hands become less hesitant, his fingers tracing the underside of your chest, slowly charting a course to your nipples. 

He opens his eyes, searching your face for consent, and you immediately nod. “I’m yours. Been yours the whole time.”

That’s all the permission he needs to bring his lips to yours, to hungrily swallow everything you’re willing to give him. His fingers gently pinch your nipples before drawing lazy circles around them. Your breath catches in your throat as his tongue slips across your lower lip. You open up and let him inside, savoring the taste of him. 

You’re still side by side, tangled up with one another, but it’s not close enough. You need more. 

“Logan,” you call, leaving one hand on his bare back as you let the other trail down his chest, to the hem of his sweats. But before you can get any further, he grabs your hand, freezing you in place. 

He shakes his head against yours. “Wanna take care of you.”

“But I wanna take care of you, too,” you whine. 

He just smiles. “You always do, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good.” He drops your hand, and one of his own trails down your body, down to the ridden-up hem of your shirt—his shirt, actually—the one he left on the pillow. “Looks better on you than it ever did on me.” He pulls it up, revealing your stomach and tits. One of his hands continues to massage your breasts, playing with your nipples, while the other travels back down to the hem of your panties. His fingers slip inside, sliding down through your folds and back up to your clit. You shudder under his touch. 

He starts to draw slow, lazy circles there. You can’t help but grind into his hand, needy for more. You whisper his name as his touch becomes harder, faster. 

“So fucking wet for me. Soaking already.” The whimper rising in your throat at his words is swallowed by another deep, desperate kiss. 

You hang onto him, your arms around his back as he pulls you closer to the edge. He can tell you need the contact, the closeness, and so he pulls away from your tits, his now-free hand slipping underneath you and snaking around your waist, holding you closer than before. Your chest is flush with his as his fingers rub harder at your clit. 

You can feel yourself coming undone, your hips rocking against him uncontrollably. “I’m so close,” you pant. 

“I know pretty girl,” he murmurs. He breaks away from your face, finding that spot in the crook of your neck that he loves so much. You throw your head back as his lips find purchase in the same area as always. “Doing so good for me. Wanna feel you come on my fingers.”

His whispers in your ear, his little bites and kisses against that spot on your neck, his fingers on your clit, it’s all too much. “Lo,” you whine, shutting your eyes and pressing your face into his shoulder. 

“That’s it, darlin’, let go.” 

That’s all it takes to have you seeing stars. You grind down onto his fingers, your hips still canting back and forth as you come undone. You can feel Logan smile against your neck as he slows down his pace. After a moment or two, his hand slips out of your panties and comes up to rest on your hip. 

You bring your forehead back to his. “You alright, sweetheart?” His low, husky whisper fills the air. 

“Mhm,” you hum. “Still want you, Lo.” 

“Are you sure?” He asks, his thumb brushing gently across your hip. 

You nod. “Need you closer.”

“Fuck,” he groans. His thumb hooks under the hem of your panties and he pulls them down your legs. You slip them off the rest of the way as Logan turns you on your back. You watch him above you, thumbs hooked inside his sweats. He pulls them down quickly, his cock springing up to his stomach in the process. Your eyes widen as you take in just how big he is. 

He pushes his sweats down the rest of the way, and he slots himself in between your legs. You can feel the length of him on the inside of your thigh. “Wanted you for so long, pretty girl,” he grunts. His forearm rests next to your head, caging you in and keeping him steady, while his other hand guides his cock through your folds, teasing your entrance. 

“Logan,” you whine, your hands reaching up to his neck, pulling his face down to meet you. “I’m yours.” 

You gasp as he fills you up, his hand immediately reaching between your bodies to find your still-sensitive clit. His pace is slow at first, letting you adjust to his length, rocking into you gently. His thumb flicks your clit before drawing those same lazy circles from before. You’re already close, still drunk off the first orgasm he pulled from you. 

“So fucking tight,” he moans. “Doing so good for me.” You can feel him building speed, pumping in and out of you. He feels so good, rubbing against your walls, stretching you out. He’s so close, so real, so safe.

“Needed you so bad,” you whimper, spreading your legs wider, inviting him in. 

You can feel him throb inside you at your words. “Needed you too.” The sound of his voice pushes you closer to the edge, your walls fluttering around his cock. His circles on your clit are no longer gentle or slow. He thrusts faster, rutting into you hit after hit. 

“L-Lo,” you stutter, shaking underneath him. “I-I’m so clo…” But you can’t finish your sentence. Your eyes flutter open and shut. 

“I’m here,” he whispers. “I’ve got you. Never gonna let you go.”

You take in a sharp breath. “’M’yours,” is all you can manage to say. 

“Mine,” he breathes, his hips rocking into you again and again. “Can feel you squeezing me, beautiful.”

“S-so close,” you choke in between thrusts. His fingers work harder on your clit, his lips moving against yours like they belong there, always. 

“Then let go, darlin’,” he says against your lips. He pushes deeper into you than before, your walls clamping down onto him. You feel heat rise to your chest as you shatter around him. You echo his name over and over again as you ride out your orgasm. You know he’s close behind, his thrusts faltering, growing sloppier with each pump. 

“W-where do you want—”

“Inside.”

“F-fuck,” he’s a choking, moaning mess as he comes undone inside you. You can feel him paint your walls, filling you up. He pumps in and out of you a few more times before he starts to slip out. 

“W-wait,” you stutter, grabbing him, holding him in place. 

He freezes. “You okay?” Concern is painted across his face, his brows furrowed, trying to discern what’s wrong. 

“J-just don’t want you to go,” you murmur. 

He smiles as he slides out of you. He pulls you tightly into his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You shut your eyes as his hands settle on your lower back. “Don’t leave, okay?”

“I promise,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Relax. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

You can’t fight your exhaustion anymore, so you do as he says. You fall asleep to the sound of his steady breathing, to his kisses on your forehead, to the tracing of letters and shapes along your back. 

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

The next morning, as pale light trickles through the curtains of your room, you see there’s no letter. No empty space next to you in the bed. 

There’s just Logan, his arms still wrapped around you, holding you tight against his chest. Your eyes flutter open. His are still closed. But he can tell you’re awake. 

“’M’not going anywhere,” he mumbles, still half asleep. “Too early. Go back to bed.”

He’s right. So, you do. 

tags: @seamlessepiphany

[xiaowhore]

hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry!

premise. in which you manage to make neuvillette feel better at the expense of your dignity. (a fair trade, really.)

word count. 1.5k

note. do umbrellas exist at teyvat. i really don't know.

You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to dramatically brood in the rain when he gets sad, but to be fair, you don't know much about him at all.

You clutch onto your umbrella, contemplating. So, uh... Are you supposed to approach him now? Shield him from the rain with your umbrella? That doesn't sound too bad, actually. But then what? Ask him if his pet fish died and now he's mourning his loss? That's hardly appropriate to say to the Chief of Justice... But it would be creepier to just stand there without saying anything, right?

You could leave and pretend you didn't see anything. Of course, that's an option too. It's possible he prefers to be left alone when he's unhappy.

But sulking while standing in the rain just gives “I want someone's attention” vibes, doesn't it?!

With a fit of reckless courage and a “fuck it” mindset, you advance your way forward to where he stands.

Regretting something as soon as you do it is on-brand for you, you realize as you soon come to learn you have to be on the tip of your toes to have the umbrella barely raising over his head instead of hanging from him. You must make a pathetic sight, attempting to shield both yourself and this hulking tower of a man from the rain with a tiny umbrella.

“...What are you doing?” Neuvillette turns around, taken aback when you're in much closer proximity than he expected. Panic flares in his eyes, and like the gentleman that he is, he steps back to create some distance. His head presses against the edge of the umbrella.

“Hey, you shouldn't move away!” You follow his movements, closing the gap. His head is now safely within the umbrella's reach, but you're an inch away from being pressed up against his chest. “I miscalculated. This thing's too small for us.”

When the initial shock wears off, his shoulders slump, a sign of him lowering his guard. “If you know that much, you should use it for yourself and go home.”

That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Appealing, even. You've never felt so silly in your entire life and the option to run away is looking more enticing with each second that ticks by.

Still.

“It's dangerous to walk alone at this hour. Won't you accompany me, sir?”

...Not the best excuse you could've come up with, but your mouth runs faster than your brain. Neuvillette, being the considerate person he is, actually takes some time to think about it, and you hurry to say, “If you leave me alone now, you could have another disappearance case in your hands tomorrow. Would you really like more work on your desk rather than some company tonight?”

He gives you a long, suffering stare that looks suspiciously like the one he gives to Lady Furina when she disappoints him, but he doesn't say no. His hand wraps around the umbrella handle, overlapping with your fingers. It takes another two seconds of that stare before you get the message and you let go, finally able to rest the balls of your feet on the ground as you stand on normal footing.

“I hope you don't make a hobby of coercion,” he hums as you walk together, your shoulders brushing every so often. “Or else I'd see you as a criminal suspect tomorrow instead of a victim.”

“I see that jokes aren't your strong suit, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You laugh awkwardly, your nervousness spiking to an all-time high throughout your entire interaction with him. It's been barely ten minutes.

Silence ensues.

“Do you like showers, sir?”

You should've just kept your mouth shut, damn it.

“I like them the same amount as the average person, I suppose.” The ridiculous question doesn't phase him, and you don't know how he's able to keep a straight face while saying that.

You decide to push your luck. “...Do you prefer bathing with cold or hot water?”

Finally, you draw out a light chuckle from him, the sound deep and pleased. It almost makes playing the fool worth it. “I've been told I'm not the best with small talk, but you seem to be worse than I am.”

Your head snaps up to look at him, affronted. “It wasn't a bad question!”

“Certainly not as bad as talking about the weather. Do you want me to praise you?”

Was the Chief Justice always this sassy? “You're making fun of me,” you point out the obvious, turning away and crossing your arms. “I asked about showers because you were standing in the rain.”

“You thought I liked showers because I was in the rain?”

“Well, I didn't know for sure. That's why I asked.” Even you can tell you're sounding more and more ridiculous by the minute. Was your house always this far? You can't wait to dive to your bed and pretend this encounter never happened. “I think I'll just shut up now.”

“Really, now?”

“Every time I open my mouth around you, I embarrass myself further. I think it's for the best.”

You hear another chuckle as heat crawls up to your cheeks, spreading to your ears. “For what it's worth, you did put me out of my terrible mood. You're quite funny.”

“That's a nice way to say you think I'm being strange.” You hide your face with your hands, peeking at Neuvillette's expression between your fingers. Bathed in the silvery moonlight, he looks straight out of a painting, even with wet hair and drenched clothes.

You've never seen him up close, never even dreamed of standing next to him. Now, you're exchanging jabs at each other like it's the most normal thing in the world, like you weren't just thinking he was someone out of reach when you watched his court trial in amazement. Now, he's so close that you can almost feel the heat from his body, so much more tangible than just a figure you admired from afar.

“But I do have your strangeness to thank,” he admits, looking off into the distance. The stars shine bright in his eyes. “Had it not been for you squeezing me under your umbrella and forcing me to walk you home, I'd surely still be under the rain.”

“...Couldn't you have phrased that better?”

“In court, I only state facts.”

You laugh dryly. “You could spare me some dignity by embellishing the story a bit... Oh, we're here.” You were so occupied defending yourself from his witty comments that you didn't realize you had already arrived home until your door was right at your face. You glance at Neuvillette, who then nods towards the door. If he's disappointed to have the stroll cut short, he doesn't show it.

“Go in. It is rather late.” He closes the umbrella and offers it back to you, a gentle smile on his face. The sight is almost like a reward for your efforts; the small upturn of the corners of his lips makes all the difference, his sharp, cold gaze softening into something more affectionate. The rainbow after the storm. The gratitude for a small kindness.

“You have to get home, too,” you utter, pushing it back to him.

“The rain stopped a few minutes ago,” he insists, gesturing behind him. You blink owlishly, observing the still pools of rainwater. You didn't even notice. Why didn't he say so? You didn't have to squeeze together under such a tiny umbrella, then.

“You should still keep it.”

He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive. “Why?”

You unlock your door, stepping inside, but still not closing it shut. “Well, it gives you an incentive to see me again.” You grin at him mischievously, like you thought of a genius plan. “I work at the cafe in the main street. I'm sure we have some tea that will strike your fancy. Make sure you're not moping next time we meet, yeah?”

Not for the first time, he seems taken aback. But his gaze softens once more, his expression molding into something pleased. “Very well.”

And so, he leaves with a small umbrella in his hand, a smile on his lips, and the clear skies over his head.

The next time you see Neuvillette, the sun is high in the sky. Compared to that night, you can see him a little better now.

That's how you notice he looks unusually shy with a bouquet of flowers in his arms and a pink blush high on his cheeks. “...Good afternoon,” he starts, his lips curving to a beginning of a smile. “The weather is great today, isn't it?”

You stare. You stare some more. And when the sight finally processes in your mind, your twinkling laughter rings in the air, as sweet as the aroma of freshly baked muffins. “And who stooped so low to talk about the weather this time, huh?”

Neuvillette can't even pretend to feel bad about it, not when you're jumping off the seat in the counter to show him a table for two. “Your silliness is infectious, it seems.”

“Hey!”

(You've never taken Monsieur Neuvillette as the type to be smart-mouthed, the type to be indulgent to your whims, the type to be romantic towards the person he's interested in—

But now you have all the time in the world to get to know him better.)

[drefear]

Closer by NIN

This is part two for Nasty

Summary: You and Miguel have been finding things out about each other through your music choices.

TW: When I say that this one is rough, I mean that this type of sex could get you arrested. I'd bail him out. biting, scratching, dacrophilia, p in v, breeding kink, honestly just everything.

Miguel was panting a bit, rolling off of your body as you both came down from your high together. It had been a few weeks since he listened to that damn song you loved and found out about what you liked in bed, fully using this to his advantage and constantly making you a squirming mess underneath him. 

His eyes stared at the ceiling with a smile on his lips, then closing them for a second before feeling you shift beside him in his bed. He felt your breast press onto his chest as you laid on top of him and his hands slid to hold your waist, peaking open one eye at your smirking face. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours, mamacita?” He questioned, tapping his fingers into your skin a bit as you rested your chin on his pecks. You could feel his heartbeat becoming normal again after your rigorous rounds. 

“I’m just wondering what your turn ons are? What makes you insatiable and want more?” You go on and on as he just chuckles, brushing some of the hair from your face as you stare at him with your big doe eyes, filled with curiosity. 

“You, mi amor.” He answers and closes his eyes again, pulling you tight to him as he rolls onto his side and pecks your forehead. “Now we need to sleep, we have an early debriefing tomorrow.” He mumbled and you pouted a bit, pushing out your bottom lip even though his eyes were closed. 

You maniacally rubbed your hand against his still half-hard cock and his grunted, grabbing your wrist quickly to stop you. “Bebe.” His tone had shifted to authoritarian fast and you let out a ‘hmph.’

“One more, papi, please. One more round and I’ll sleep like a baby.” You begged and his eyes opened as an amused grin fell on his full lips. “I promise.” You finished and he yanked one of your legs around his hips, burying his face into your neck. 

“I can’t so no to my precious girl.” he nipped as you giggled, and you both continued once more, before falling asleep. 

The next day, Miguel was exhausted. One more round turned into three more rounds and then sex on the bathroom floor, in his kitchen, and giving him head in his elevator. 

So you could say it was definitely worth it to him. 

You brought out a sexual prince in him, someone caring and full of sweet, buttery smooth words that made your panties a swimming pool in the middle of July. And he was always welcome to dive in. 

“Wow. That’s a new record.” Jess spoke and you looked around, confused. “The hickeys, I mean.” She points to your neck and you immediately close the mask of your suit to avoid her scrutiny any more. She laughed lightly, “don’t be like that, remember that I’m technically the one who led him to give you said hickeys.” She prompts and sits, leaning on your desk. “So I’m guessing it’s all going good?” 

“Better than good, Jess. He’s- he’s like a God in bed.” 

“Wow. He must really be into it.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked, now scrunching your brows together. 

“Well, listen- he’s an attractive guy, and you’re not the only person with eyes at the HQ. He’s slept with a few in the past before he met you, but it was always a one-and-done thing, so I’m just impressed that he’s opened up about what he’s into.” 

And then you sunk down in your seat. “What… he’s into?” You questioned. 

“Well, yeah. You two always do what you both want, right? He used to complain about how vanilla most people were, so you must be doing something right.” She stands again and walks off. 

Leaving you alone to your thoughts. What… he wanted? You assumed that he was into what you were into, since you’d found him jerking off to exactly the things you’d wanted to hear, especially after that song- 

The song!

Oh, Jess and her big mouth probably told him about your love for that song! You blushed in embarrassment as you thought about him submitting to what you wanted. 

You didn’t want him to only focus on your turn ons, you wanted compromise and to share his darker fantasies. Isn’t that what a relationship was? 

“Lyla,” you called out and found the little AI pop up in front of you. “I need to know what sexual interests Miguel has.” The orange hologram sputtered a cough for a second while you rolled your eyes at her overdramatic display. “Lyla, you don’t even breathe.” 

“If I did, I'd be gasping in shock and clutching my pearls.” She shot back and you just sighed in defeat. “Besides, those files aren’t accessible to just anyone. You need permission from Miguel or me.” She folded her arms.

“Wait- permission? Like… his passcode?” You blurted out with hopes and Lyla nodded. 

“Well, yes, but-“ 

“Thanks Lyla.” You cut her off and hurried to his office, ignoring the hologram calling back to you. Your steps finally made it to the dark office Miguel used, more like a workshop for a robotics technician, but you didn’t dare correct him when it came to the Society. 

“Miguelito?” You called out, testing out a theory. When silence was your only companion in the room, you smiled and continued your plans. 'Perfect!' You cheered to yourself and hopped to swing onto his platform. 

The screens were much higher than you could see or reach, so you jumped up to sit on his desk and tap along the floating screens. You found what you were looking for after a minute, being greeted by Lyla once more. 

“You know, he’ll be made when he finds out.” She announced and you shrugged. 

“Not if I put what I find to good use.” You answered and the AI pretended to wretch, feigning nausea. 

“Gross. Hold on, if it’s that important to you, I might be able to bypass the code. But I’ll deny ever being here if you throw me under the bus.” Lyla answered and tapped something, then letting you watch the code fill itself. 

“This is his porn history. He doesn’t know I can see it, and I’m happy he doesn’t because that conversation would be really weird.” She pops a few screens, but most of them are just… 

“Is this... my social media?” You wobbled on the desk for a second from leaning back in shock. 

“Yeah, it tends to get him going pretty easily. Sometimes he listens to certain music, too.” She adds and you look directly at her, making her sigh and hold her glasses in disappointment. “I hate that I’m enabling you.” 

“Don’t stop now.” You demand and she lets his playlist pop up, one titled after you. 

Most of the songs seem to be very lovey dovey- and that’s when you find it. 

“Nine inch nails…?” Your surprise was evident as you read the band name once more. “I listened to this band in high school.”

“So did he. Believe it or not, he was a little rebellious in high school. I think it was the daddy issues.” Lyla tapped the song and the strange sounds from the song played heavily. 

“Thanks Lyla!” You tapped her away and ran from his desk, trying to make it as though you had never been there. Your mistake. 

That night, you began playing the song while cooking and tried to focus on the lyrics. 

“You let me violate you 

You let me desecrate you 

You let me penetrate you 

You let me complicate you”

Your jaw dropped, listening to the words. Oh.

The song exuded dominance and power, something very Miguel. But you didn’t think he could be so… rough. Of course he could be rough, the man had fangs and claws, but you thought he was much more into sentimental experiences, making love and such. You didn't realize he wanted to fuck.

Pressing your palms flat into the counter, you'd long forgotten your meal when the chorus bursts through your speakers. 

“I wanna fuck you like an animal 

I wanna feel you from the inside 

I wanna fuck you like an animal 

My whole existence is flawed 

You get me closer to God”

Your knees became jelly as you imagined him saying thing these things to you, gravel voice smirking as you fall to the ground before him and worship him like he deserves- like he would demand. 

“you tear down my reason

(Help me) it's your sex I can smell 

(Help me) you make me perfect

Help me become somebody else”

You could feel the desperation in the reverb of the songs drums. It’s no wonder he always inhales so deeply when he eats you out, he’s letting his animalistic instincts take over. He’s technically part spider, which is inherently an animal. He literally needs to fuck you like an animal to feel his whole DNA’s satisfaction. 

“I wanna fuck you like an animal 

I wanna feel you from the inside 

I wanna fuck you like an animal 

My whole existence is flawed 

You get me closer to God”

You breath hitches and you hear the door close, your head shooting up as you can hear the sound of his boots coming closer, spider senses tingling from behind you. 

“So… the scent of your wet pussy was all over my desk when I got back from Peter's universe… want to tell me why?” He inquired and you wanted to answer, but the hand sliding up your body and the thoughts plaguing your mind from the still-playing song we’re holding your tongue hostage. “No answer? My good girl always answers me, what's wrong? His gentle kisses land on the slope of your neck and you give him more access by tilting your head.

“What if I don’t want to be a 'good girl' tonight? What if…” he freezes and starts to put everything together. You snuck into his office, this song, your pheromones filling the room. 

“What if what?” He growls and you practically cum at the sound of his aggravated voice hissing at you. 

“What if… I want you to do what the song says… and fuck me like an animal.” 

His brain drowns in conflicted emotions. He wants nothing more to practically maim your skin with his claws and teeth, fucking you so roughly that you beg him to stop and take a break, plead for him to breed you like a whore, to hear you crying from how hard he’s going, how bad it hurts and amazing it feels. He wants to see you wake up with a limp in your walk and a belly full of his potential children. 

But then he also doesn’t want to scare you away. He doesn’t want you to be forced to do those things just because you want him to finish, to feel satisfaction. He’s more than satisfied with you, loves the sex you two have, he doesn’t need-

The words fly through his head, but everything stops when you roughly grab his cock through his suit and get onto your knees before him. 

“Mi corazón… you don’t know what you’re asking for.” He encourages you to stand up again, to stop asking for this, but you bury your face into the fabric and breathe in deeply. 

“Please, I need it in my mouth. I want you to fuck my mouth.” You beg and who is he to deny such a gorgeous request when he can see your fat tits practically spilling from the keyhole of your spider suit from this angle. 

“Fuck. Fine.” He says through gritted teeth and yanks your head backwards by your hair, disabling his suit completely as his cock pops out and smacks you a bit. He likes the sounds, likes the view of his face smothering precum across your cheeks and lips. And he wants more. “You like the idea of me suffocating you on my cock, forcing myself down your throat for you to suck?” He slaps his hard dick across your face and because of the weight and width, it actually kinda stings. “That’s it, my little slut… so horny just for me, so hungry to take my dick.” He roughly grabs your face and forces your mouth open, smushing your cheeks in his large hands and tapping his tip on your tongue. “Open wide and stick out that tongue.” He commands and you comply, tongue out and mouth open for him. 

He slams into your mouth until you can’t take much more, still missing a few inches of him. “Relax your throat, or I’ll fuck it so hard that you’ll be forced to.” He threatens and you try to lessen your muscles tightening. Pulling your hair into his body until your nose is smashed against his pelvis, dark happy trail against your lips.

The gagging makes him practically cum then and there, but he won’t let this end just yet. No, he needs to enjoy this more. unbeknownst to him, you were on the verges of an orgasm just from him fucking into the back of your throat one time. You hand slides down to touch your clit and rub yourself in gentle circles.

Sliding out, he rams his cock back into your waiting cavern and begins a relentless speed, shoving himself further and further each time until he can see the bulge of his dick in your esophagus. His head falls back and his fingers tighten in your hair, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as he brutalizes your throat and refuses to stop. His hand pins your head between the countertop of the kitchen and his postponing hips, refusing to stop until he feels your nails on one hand digging into his thighs and making him almost cum. You groan on his dick and he realizes that sound, he knows that's a signal that you've just finished with your own hand. He yanks himself out and starts fisting his cock fast as you cough and gasp for air, tears still forming mascara tracks down your cheeks. 

He bends down and hurls you over his shoulder, then throwing you onto the ground of the living room and making you do a split on your back, blushing at how exposed he had you. Three sharp claws formed from his fingers and he shredded the hips of your suit, bending down to your tits and latching the top in his mouth so when he turned his head, the rip was loud and your nipples were open to the cold air. 

“You’re going to lay here and take my cock until the only words you know how to say are ‘Miguel please fuck me.’ And I’m not stopping until you pass out from exhaustion.” He declares and puts the tip of his dick in your entrance, not even wasting a second and thrusting into you completely, making a scream tear through your throat in pain as he once again found your hair and thrusted. The lack of accommodation made you tighter than you’d ever felt, jerking hips his harder as your hand fell onto his abs to push him away, hiccups coming from your lips as the pain begins to grow at how hard he could go. 

“That’s it, shut the fuck up and take this cock. Cry about it, try to get away, but I’ll pull you back and fuck. You. Harder.” He rammed his hips into yours to punctuate every word of the end of the sentence. “I’ll fuck you so hard, you won't be able to get up for work tomorrow.” He says as he pounds his tip into your cervix, most definitely bruised and possibly hurt worse. But god, did it feel good, watching him get so crazy, so psychotically obsessed with you. 

“Migu-el!” Your words get broken up with as I should have been gone. 

“That’s it, my little bitch in heat, I’ll fuck you so hard, your entire bottom half with be black and blue.” He grunted and groaned, starting to feel like an animal on the discovery channel, then bending down and biting into your skin hard. Blood drew at the little punctures and he continued to bite deep, painful marks all over, looking like you were stung by a bunch of bees. His hands slid up your back and you felt the claws in his fingers latch onto you, scrapping across your smooth body and forming bloodied lines and marks of what looked like pure aggression, but if only everyone who saw them knows… 

You were fucking loving this.

Your body looked like an anomaly mission gone wrong; dark, scattered bruises that looked like they’d take weeks to heal, punctures all over your body like you were a piece of cheese, and red scraps like you’d tumbled into a bed of razors. All done by Miguel and his primal needs, and you’d let him do it again and again as long as he used his cock to completely pummel your insides. 

“F-fuck me, please, Miguel…” you gasped and choked out as his eyes blared red like sirens on a cop car, heaving and large above you. You orgasm around him and he makes a sound as if he’s a roaring lion.

“That’s it, ask me to destroy this slutty pussy, to breed you, to own you.” His words come out in an octave you didn’t know he could reach and your back arches, keeping his dick in you as he flips you over. 

Like a battering ram in and out of your pussy, he holds your arms and yanks your body back and forth on his cock like his own life sized pocket pussy. “Perfect little cocksleeve, letting me use her body like a fuckin whore. Only mine, no one else can touch you, mine.” he grunts and growls as he attacks your back again, wet lines of him basically slobbering all over you like a dog. He humps into you at a dizzying speed and you cum again, the searing burn of a too-fast orgasm swimming through your belly as he smiles and ruts upward, bullying your g-spot more and more. 

“One more, you can do one more, right?” He insists and makes sharp, hard movements against that spot. You weep louder as the lewd sounds of your wet pussy sucking him in and milking him dry echo around the room. Miguel moves to web together your arms behind your back, holding them now with one hand and grasping the back of your neck like a handle with the other, smashing his hips into your suffocating insides. "I'm not asking, you will give me one more, I want to feel your cunt clamp down on me again and try to suck the cum out of my cock."

Everything becomes white noise as another painful and overwhelming orgasm wracks though your body, making you jerk and shutter wildly as he holds you in his control and rides you through it. 

“That’s it, you’re my fucktoy, my personal little cunt for me to ruin and get pregnant. Gonna be all knocked up, gonna let me cum in you and fill you up. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fuck this cunt for the rest of my fuckin life.” His words send him tumbling into his own climax, shooting his seed so deep inside you that you swear it’s gonna spill out of your mouth. Miguel’s dick is so deeply buried within you as he cums that your legs shake and the muscles cramp, dropping below him. You’re completely fucked out, everything feeling like an irritation to your bloody, bruised skin. 

And the look on Miguel’s face is heartbreaking once he looks at you. Yes, it makes his dick hard again, but it makes his mind unravel into panic. He needs to apologize. How could he mark you up like this, damage you like this? He never should have let go, never should have-

“Wanna go again?” You mumble out and give him a little smirk. And he completely malfunctions.

“You… enjoyed that?”

“Are you joking? That was the most amazing sex of my entire life. We can do the sweet sappy stuff I taught you some other time, now abuse my cunt with your cock again please.” You beg and Miguel thinks he’s gonna lose his mind. 

You will be the death of him, and as he plunges into your hole once more, propping a pillow under your hips, he thinks about what type of sex playlist you two are gonna make together.

[bixels]

Taking the current topic as an excuse to ask you to tell me all the reasons you love Rarijack. Your art for the ship is so sweet and intimate I'd love to hear any in depth thoughts you have.

Breathes in.

I think what makes their dynamic really strong is that they have opposing personalities but aligned values. It's deeper than just "opposites attract." Rarity's fancy, prissy, and femme while Applejack's modest, rough, and "masculine." But both value hard work (to the point of being workaholics), their families (both have guardianship over their little sisters), running successful businesses, and eventually each other. Their relationship can be boiled down to, "Despite our differences/disagreements, I still like you because we value the same things."

We see their relationship develop so much. In the first season, they can't stop bickering about surface-level differences. By season four, they still bicker, but will mend their relationship because they can't help but do nice things for each other. In Trade Ya, they start off arguing over personality differences (Applejack likes old junk and Rarity likes useless crap). Then they pivot and start arguing that they value their relationship more than the other. In the end, they mend things by sacrificing their needs and buying each other a gift. Even if they don't understand it, they know it'd make the other happy. And that's all that really matters. It's a genuinely sweet moment that shows how arguing can be healthy and necessary for relationships to strengthen.

We even see them dropping their hang-ups about each others' personalities. In Made in Manehattan, when Rarity runs off in dramatics about someone's fashion, AJ doesn't roll her eyes or scoff, she smiles. Oftentimes, their conflicts are very common domestic conflicts romantic couples face. Applejack's Day Off is about a woman's inability to balance work and life and find time to properly spend with her partner, causing her partner to feel neglected.

By season seven, they're actively participating in each others' interests. Any problems or conflicts that arise are dealt with, and they come out the other end stronger and closer. In Honest Apple, AJ pretty much spells out why their relationship works so well: even though she doesn't understand fashion, she can recognize and appreciate how much work it takes and wants to respect that. When she realizes her mistake in the episode, AJ goes above and beyond to fix things and apologize to Rarity. They care about each other so much.

The two go out of their way, sacrificing their personal desires and beliefs and doing things they normally wouldn't, to make the other happy. That's just love.

There's Simple Ways, where AJ gets stuck in an unwanted love triangle between Rarity and her hipster crush. And her frustration and anger can be so easily interpreted as AJ finding herself in a terrible position; the girl she loves wants another man, and that man wants her.

I dunno. I've always had a preference for opposites attract ships, but Rarijack's stuck with me like a brain worm because they have the perfect chemistry. The way they show they care, or do things for each other, I've always read it as the truest representation of romance in the show.

[hanjsquokka]

when the cherry blossoms fall.

lee minho × fem!reader — soulmate au, high school au, time traveling, love at first sight, drawing closer × lovely runner, fluff/angst

summary — minho wasn't meant to see you there, falling for you before he even knew your name or why you were attached to that tube. fate was so cruel to bring you close, only to pull you away before he got to tell you those three little words he was keeping inside him. but when the same cruel destiny presented an opportunity to make things right, he wasn't going to let it slip away from him again.

warnings — mentions of illness, death, hospitals, time traveling, depression, characters are aged 18/19 for half of the story, blood (i don't want to spoil the whole plot so i'll just leave it at this)

word count — 6.7K words

soundtrack — listen here

author's note — drawing closer broke me. i have never cried so much, it was just so sad :(. i love writing high school au sm, it's a lot of fun. this layout is inspired by the lovely @starseungs <3 i hope you enjoy reading this. please reblog and comment, i'd love to hear your thoughts since this is something very different to what i've written before <33

The fan above him spun around with a loud creak, making more noise than giving him air. The environment was cold outside, with winter still clinging to the wind, making a chill run down his spine amidst his worry for his friend. Hyunjin was far too reckless for his own good—why did he never listen to Minho? He was right after all. He did that stupid skateboard stunt, and now look what happened. Minho had to bring him to the hospital because he was almost a hundred percent sure he broke his leg.

“You're not a teenager anymore, Hyunjin,” Minho chided as Hyunjin paid him no heed, too excited to ride the skateboard that he found in the dusty boxes of his garage. Once upon a time, Hyunjin was really good at skateboarding. But it had been years since then. “At least do something normal.”

“Normal is for losers.”

He shook his head, not wanting to recount the sound of the sickening crack of the skateboard followed by his friend's wail of pain. A wave of goosebumps formed over his skin as he tried to focus on something else, like how he would tell him I told you so when he saw him about how he could be as dumb as he was seven years ago and watch him roll his eyes. He gazed at the branch of the sakura tree he could see outside the window, still bare from the snowy months.

The faint smell of soap was followed by loud giggles. He turned his head to the source of the sound, eyes following on a couple young kids jumping up and down as they were surrounded by bubbles, dancing around a person sitting in a wheelchair. 

That was when he saw you.

You blew another bout of the soapy spheres, the sunlight refracting through them and creating tiny, diffused rainbows. Your eyes nearly turned into crescents, crinkling at the corners as you laughed along with the children. Your smile was so contagious that he could feel the corners of his own lips tugging upward. It was like the filter of his eyes changed, and the world suddenly became more vibrant and colorful—just because of you. He didn't even notice the tube that ran along beneath your nose, the way you couldn't move your body beneath your waist, or the ill-fitting hospital gown you had on. 

Minho couldn't tear his eyes away from you, not even when a nurse approached him to inform him of Hyunjin's condition. A quick snap brought him out of his trance, his ears turning red along with his cheeks. He quietly got up and shuffled behind the nurse towards the room Hyunjin was resting in.

Over the next week, Minho visited the hospital twice a day to meet Hyunjin, once in the morning before work and once in the evening after work. A couple of their other friends came every now and then, but it was mostly just Minho.

And he wanted to keep it that way.

Not to be disrespectful to his friend, but he wanted to see you without getting hounded by relentless teasing and possibly drive you away (not like he had ever spoken to you; no, this was all in his head).

There was something about you that drew Minho in, like a moth to a flame. Like he knew you from somewhere, but he couldn't put a finger on it.

The following Sunday, the day Hyunjin was being discharged, Minho was there at the hospital. He was miserably failing at operating the water cooler to quench his parched throat, his ears turning pink from the effort of trying to find out why water wasn't coming out of the faucet when he turned the knob. 

“That thing has never worked,” a voice said from behind. You approached him in your wheelchair, a permanent smile on your face as you looked at him, hands folded in your lap.

“Oh…” He felt stupid. 

“Here you go.” You handed him a plastic water bottle, which he gratefully took and took a few gulps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I've seen you a lot around here; are you unwell?”

“Oh? No, no—my friend—he did something stupid and broke his leg. I didn't want to leave him alone.”

You nodded your head. “That's sad. Is he okay?”

Minho nodded. “He's okay enough to talk my ear off.” He chuckled, to which you chuckled in return. A warm, fluttery feeling rose on his chest at the thought of him making you smile. “Thank you... for the water.”

“No problem. You looked like you were going to break that.”

“Was I?” His face flushed, and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand sheepishly at your words. 

“What's your name?”

“Minho. What about you?”

“Y/n.”

Y/n… He liked that. He wanted to say something more—to keep talking to you so he could hear that voice of yours that made his heart tap dance in his rib cage when a group of kids ran up to you, talking over each other in excited giggles and shrieks. You laughed along with them as they tugged at your hand.

“I'm sorry. I'll see you again later?” He nodded quickly, forgetting that Hyunjin was going to be discharged. He had no reason to come back, but you wanted him to come back, right? Or were you just being polite in front of the kids so he wouldn't be reduced to a pile of shame?

Despite his conflicting thoughts, he found himself visiting the hospital every day without fail, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of you, and was surprised to see you waiting for him near the water cooler. That set your friendship in motion, with you talking endlessly every evening about anything and everything. The invisible red string that tied him to you brought him closer and closer. You were a siren, and he was a sailor entranced by your voice.

The weather grew warmer, and spring began to show itself in the trees and in the flowers. The snow-covered roads were no longer a hassle to drive on, and Minho could finally put away his boots, opting for a more comfortable pair of shoes for work and to visit you. Like clockwork, at five in the evening, he switched off his computer, shoved his papers into his work bag, and made a beeline for his car, no longer needing a map because he already knew the way.

You were there waiting for him in your room after he checked in at the reception, eager to tell him more tales and funny stories, anecdotes of other patients, and the kids you hung out with. Sometimes, you and he would talk for hours. Sometimes, you sat in silence, sketching away in your book, while he sat beside you, reading a book.

Minho showed you pictures of his three cats, which you dawned on almost immediately, cooing at the sight of the three kitties, making his heart melt. He wished he could bring them, but he couldn't, so he showed you as many videos and photos he could since they seemed to bring you immense joy.

Some days, however, you could hardly sit up, laying down on the bed with a grimace on your face. You thought you could hide from him, but he knew you were in pain. He was in pain, seeing you like that. You didn't mention it in your endless conversation, so he assumed you didn't like to talk about it.

He never asked you why you were in the hospital in the first place, why all the happiness drained out of your face when you tried to move in your wheelchair, why that tube sat above your pretty pink lips—he didn't see all that. He only saw you.

You and your wonderful smile.

You and your ability to light up his world.

You and the way you always made his heart skip a beat.

You and your beautiful eyes that he swore held galaxies inside; he could stare at them forever.

“I can't wait for the sakuras to bloom,” you said one day, the two of you sitting in the shade of a cherry blossom outside of the hospital. “It's my favorite part of the whole year.” But while you were looking at the budding pink blossoms, he was looking at your face.

He was falling. Falling hard. You were the first thought on his mind when he woke up and the last one when he went to sleep. He dreamed of you, sweet little fantasies of spending the rest of his life with you.

He knew you better than himself, that you liked pancakes drowned in syrup and berries on top, that you loved a specific type of daisy called a gerbera daisy—a flower that looked as vibrant as you, that you hated the thunder but loved the rain, and that you were an amazing artist. Your dreams of becoming a painter and having something in the Louvre Museum in Paris, visiting the top of Tokyo Tower, and swimming at the beach. It made you so happy to talk about them that it made him happy, grinning ear to ear as you animatedly explained all the details to him.

“Whoa, we were in the same class,” Minho said, eyes wide with shock as he looked at the yearbook in your hands. You were both on the topic of school when you found out that the place you were describing felt too similar. It was only when you talked about a certain math teacher that you realized it was the same person.

Minho dug through his old school things at home and found his yearbook; the insides of the cover were scribbled with so many names of people whom he used to call friends.

It was funny how you two had crossed paths before, but he had no recollection of you. He silently cursed at his past teenage self for not knowing you—then again, fate worked in different ways.

“Yeah, I was looking through it, and I saw your face. Weird, right?” He nodded, looking at the photo of you from seven years ago. You looked almost exactly the same, except now your hair has grown out much more. How had he never noticed you?

His feelings towards you have only increased since then, to the point where they felt suffocating to bottle up inside him. Like a volcano waiting to erupt. He took one look at your face and zoned out, completely missing what you said and barely covering up when you asked him for his opinion. He had to bite his tongue every time he almost blurted out that sentence that was marinating in his brain.

I love you.

“You're down bad,” Hyunjin told him after Minho confessed to having feelings for you after he was confronted about his visits to the hospital for the past two months. “Like bad bad. I never thought I'd see you like this.”

“I like her,” Minho admitted again. “A lot. Now that I've known her, I don't think I can go back to pretending she doesn't exist.”

“Then tell her.”

He paused. “Confess… to Y/n?”

Hyunjin let out an exasperated sigh, shifting his position on the couch. “Yes, Minho, proclaim your love to the woman you love.”

“Is that a good idea?”

“If you like her so much despite her problems, then it's worth a shot, don't you think? And I have a feeling she feels the same way.”

“You think so?”

“There is only one way to find out.”

There is only one way to find out.

Hyunjin was right. Minho should confess. No harm in doing that, right? He picked out his best shirt, tucking it into his pants, and looked at his reflection in the mirror, messing with his hair for a while before he gave up and let it be. He smoothed down the wrinkles in the crisp white shirt, wondering if he was too dressed up for this. He sprayed on some cologne that you had complimented the day he wore it and gave himself a pep talk as he drove to a flower shop.

With bright red gerbera daisies in hand, he took a few deep breaths in front of the hospital entrance. The cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, ready to fall at any moment. You would love to see them, he thought, smiling to see himself. If things went the way he wanted them to, he would bring you out here and sit at a bench. Maybe get some ice cream from the cafeteria and watch the sakura trees.

Minho steeled himself and walked inside, making his way to the front desk. It was a daily routine, but today was different. His hair on the back of his neck was on end, and his heart was beating uncomfortably loudly in his chest.

“I'm here to see Y/N,” he told the receptionist. He was expecting her to tell him to go down the hallway, take the elevator up to your floor, and go to your room, as he did every day. He didn't expect the nurse to look up at him with a solemn face, a jolt of panic going through him even before she said anything.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Lee. She passed away earlier today. Her illness suddenly became worse, and her body couldn't fight it.”

His heart dropped, along with the bouquet of red flowers in his hands. “What? But—but I was here yesterday. She was fine. How—” His vision blurred with tears as the nurse once again shook her head in sorrow. His ears rang loudly, hands gripping onto the countertop hard enough to make his knuckles white, his throat closing up as he felt like the whole world was crumbling in front of him. His heart was ripped out of his chest and trampled upon as the nurse explained to him and told him about your final resting place. She handed him an envelope, sealed with a sticker of a strawberry and his name written on the front in your handwriting.

He sat in his car and cried for a long time, his forehead resting on the steering wheel as sob after sob racked through his body. His throat ached and his eyes burned, but he couldn't stop crying. The world became dull again; the happiness and light that you once brought are gone. Even after he shed his last tear, his heart squeezed dry and now hollow, he still couldn't will himself to drive away; he couldn't make himself look at the envelope sitting next to him in the passenger seat.

Minho blasted the air conditioner and closed his eyes to take a few deep breaths, but he was plagued by visions of you, and the pain in his heart increased tenfold. He didn't know how long he was sitting there in his car, but he did know that he could never tell you how much he loved you, how you made his life worth living, and how he would cherish you with his whole heart for eternity.

I love you.

Dear Minho,

If you're reading this then… I must not be there anymore. Firstly, I want to thank you for making the last few months of my life so memorable. I loved every moment I spent with you, and I wish I could've had many more—perhaps a lifetime more. Thank you for making me smile when my heart felt heavy, for making me laugh when I felt like crying, and for showing me so much more love than I deserve. 

Second, I want to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not telling you the full story of me, the reasons why I'm paralyzed below my waist, and why I was so sick I could barely move sometimes. Because when you were there, I wanted to be happy. I didn't want to think about my illness or the fact that I would die and leave you alone. It was too much to bear, although I thought about it every night.

All those dreams I told you about? The biggest one I had was to be with you. This is the third thing I wanted to tell you, but I never had the chance because I was too much of a coward, which is that I like you. No, I love you. I've loved you since we were in school. I recognized you in the hospital that day, and you didn't, but I was so happy to see you again, although I wish you didn't have to see me in that state, lying on my deathbed.

I love you so much, Lee Minho. I wish we had more time together, but I cherished every moment we had. I love you, and I always will. And I hope you do too.

Forever,

Y/n.

The words in your letter were permanently etched into his brain, a painful reminder of your absence and of how oblivious he was to your reciprocated feelings. He couldn't move for a few days, lying in bed, alternating between crying and simply staring at the ceiling, memories of you playing in his head again and again like a broken record he never wanted to fix.

Minho didn't visit you until Sunday, not wanting to believe the harsh reality of you not being with him anymore. He did his best to hide any remnant of his red eyes and puffy face, dressed in the shirt you liked, and bought red gerbera daisies once again to see you. He had to look good for you.

It took him a while to find you, but there you were.

In loving memory of a loving daughter and dear friend, Y/N L/N

(25.03.1999 - 10.04.2024)

“Hey,” his voice cracked. He stubbornly tried to blink at the tears forming in his eyes. Minho bit his lip, kneeling down to place the flowers in front of the tombstone and brushing some dirt off of the granite. “I miss you.” A wobbly smile formed on his face. He could almost see your face in front of him, a teasing glint in your eyes as you poked fun at him. He sniffled, turning away to wipe his eyes. “And you never gave me the chance to tell you that... that I love you too. I was nervous, and now I'm too late. I'm sorry, Y/n.” He choked on his words and stood up. “I would do anything to get you back.”

There was a cool breeze, ruffling his hair. He thought it was you and closed his eyes, imagining it was your hands carding through his air. He felt something fall on him—cherry blossoms. The wind carried them in a delicate dance, surrounding him and you in a flurry of pink petals.

“The sakuras are blooming,” he said sadly.

But you weren't here to see it.

The drive home was silent. Minho didn't put the radio on, half focused on the idle roads and darkening horizon. The cherry blossom trees all over the city were blooming, he noticed, as his car stood idle at a red light. He believed a part of him died along with you. You were his soulmate; that's what he liked to believe. You were connected in more ways than one, with destiny pulling on your strings to get you close and then snipping the thread at the last second.

The light turned red. He changed the gear and moved forward.

It all happened too fast: the rev of another car coming in from his side at a speed double that of the limit, him noticing too late as the front crashed to his left, his head flying into the window and breaking the glass into shards that wedged into his skin.

And then everything went black. 

Minho's head shot up. Was he dead? Did he die in that car crash? His head was killing him; a throb was coming from deep inside his brain, making him wince and hold his head. But there was no blood on his hands when he pulled away. How was that possible?

“Are you okay?” He looked up. Hyunjin was approaching him along with a few other people he recognized as Bang Chan, Han Jisung, and... Kim Seungmin? He hadn't spoken to the last one since high school. “I think it hit you really hard.”

“What do you mean, I was in a—” He halted in his tracks. “What are you wearing?” Minho's eyes were trained on the gray blazer he was wearing, a gold pin affixed to the lapel. Underneath was a navy blue waistcoat and a white shirt collar peeking above.

Hyunjin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“No,” he said, letting out something that was a mix of a laugh and a scoff. “Why are you wearing that? Are you pulling my leg?”

“My… uniform?”

“Yah, Minho, did you hit your head that hard?” Jisung laughed, slinging an arm over his shoulder, making him bend. 

“Of course I did, I—”

His mind clicked. They were standing on a field. Not just any old field—their school play field, where they used to play soccer every day after class. There was laughter and yelling all around him. Hyunjin, Jisung, Chan, and Seungmin—even Minho himself—were wearing the same clothes. Gray blazer, white shirt, gray slacks, and the gold pin. Some were wearing the navy blue waistcoat and a tie, but it was the same thing from seven years ago.

“This isn't funny; why are we here?” This had to be some joke, courtesy of Jisung. He was a prankster, but this was taking it too far.

“Minho, are you sure you're okay? Do you need to go to the nurse?” Chan had worry written all over his face. 

Minho glanced at each of them, getting more and more confused by the second. His eyes flitted down to his clothes and back up, at the other students, the school building, and back to his friends.

“Maybe he has a concussion,” Seungmin quipped. “I told those rugby guys to take it down a notch.”

Those words sounded familiar. A sense of deja vu washed over him, his hair pricking on end, and a light bulb went off in his head.

This has happened before.

“Hey, Lee Minho... You're scaring me.” Hyunjin's hand held his left bicep and shook him.

“This happened before... Why am I here? I graduated school seven years ago...” He muttered underneath his breath.

“What are you saying? I think we need to take you to the nurse.”

Minho cut Chan off. “Today, what is today's date?”

“April 10th, why?”

“The year, Seungmin.”

“2017—”

The air was knocked out of his lungs. He was in the past. Seven years in the past. He was still in his last year of high school, liked playing soccer, never wore the uniform correctly, and was still friends with Kim Seungmin.

“Y/n…” 

You would be alive. If he was right and he was somehow transported back in time to when he was in school, you would be alive. You would be okay, not lying in a hospital bed, unable to move, waiting for your illness to consume you. 

He had another chance.

“Y/n? You mean from our class? Why d—”

Minho leaped at Hyunjin, his eyes blazing with determination. He held his shoulders as he spoke again. “Where is she?”

“I think she was leaving?”

That was all Minho needed to know. He quickly grabbed his bag and bolted down the field onto the pavement that led to the main gate. He could hear his friends calling for him; they were undoubtedly confused by his behavior, but that didn't matter. All he had to do was make sure you were alive. He spotted a girl walking, a backpack slung over her back.

There was only one way he could find out.

“Y/n?” He called, hoping he wasn't making a fool of himself in front of someone else.

The girl turned, and his heart stopped.

It was you, a younger version of you, the one from the yearbook, looking at him with a confused tilt of your head. He could see your lips move, probably saying his name, but he couldn't hear it. There was a gust of wind, the breeze urging him to surge forward, and he did, colliding into your body and embracing you tightly. His breaths were uneven, tears forming in his eyes as he rested his chin on top of your head, his fingers brushing through your hair.

“You're okay…” He squeezed you tighter.

You were the first one to pull away; your cheeks were tinted pink. You couldn't meet his eyes. “Why did you do that? Is something wrong, Minho? Of course I'm okay.”

Minho felt something fall on his shoulder. A sakura. The cherry blossom trees were blooming, showering the two of you with a cascade of pink petals. His eyes searched yours, but he could only see bewilderment. A relieved laugh escaped him. He squatted on the ground and covered his face with his hands.

He got another chance.

Another chance with you.

He looked back up at you and felt a multitude of emotions bubble up in him, but the main one was love.

“Yeah, you're okay.”

“You're acting weird.”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Sure, but—”

“Great.”

Minho was all smiles; he couldn't stop it. His heart was beating out of his chest as he walked alongside you, gripping onto the strap of his bag, his ears turning pink every time your shoulders brushed his. He was beyond happy, relieved, and excited, all at the same time. He tried to fill the silence of the walk by asking you questions like how your day had gone, what you ate for lunch, and if he could walk home with you every day.

You were completely flustered and confused; he could see that. It must be weird for you for him to come talk out of nowhere. He remembered that you had liked him since high school, so that means this would work out. He just had to act normal and make sure he would change your fate and his, to make sure that you would be with him forever.

“This is me,” you awkwardly gestured to the house the two of you had stopped in front of.

Minho nodded, feeling a little upset that you had to go away too soon. “Right… Well, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You bit your lip. “Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, Minho. Get home safe.”

“I will,” he grinned and waved goodbye before he set for his house, turning around one last time to see you on the porch if your house was doing a happy dance, which made him laugh, his face flushing red.

You were okay.

And so was he.

It took him a while to find his own house in the unfamiliar neighborhood he was in. He missed living in his parent's place, with his mother's home-cooked food that he hadn't eaten in ages. When was the last time he visited his mom and dad? He eagerly went up to the door and opened it, the familiar sight of the entryway making him nostalgic. 

“Someone's all smiles today,” his mom said with a chuckle, watching him untie his shoes and put on his house slippers. His mother looked younger than he had last seen her, wearing a cardigan. He remembered that she said that it had shrunk in the washing machine. It was brand new now. “Did you have a good day today, sweetheart?”

“The best. I'll be in my room,” he said, almost tripping over his two feet in giddiness as he went up the stairs to his bedroom. It looked exactly the same as he used to have it. He threw his bag onto the floor and then himself onto his bed, breathing in the smell of the detergent on the bedsheets.

“This is crazy,” he said to himself. If all of this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. Maybe he was in a coma from the car crash, but it all felt too real. He remembered this day happening before: getting hit in the head by a rugby ball, and Seungmin chiding the guys who were playing with it. This was obviously not a prank; everyone looked younger and was befuddled, looking at him like he was nuts. 

He time-traveled. Actually, time traveled back to the past to save you.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He even had his old phone.

Hyunjin: Minho, you're okay, right? You were acting really weird.

Minho: Yeah, I'm fine. I think I got hurt more than I thought I did.

Hyunjin: Okay 🤨

Hyunjin: Why did you run off like that, though? You don't even talk to Y/N, and suddenly you were acting as if she were on the verge of death?

Minho : I just needed to check something.

Hyunjin: You're weird. Get some sleep and don't be late tomorrow again, or Seung's going to kill you.

Minho: I won't 🙄

He was back in 2017. He was a teenager again. 

“This is so cool.”

It was something straight out of a movie. Minho felt like he was living in a fever dream, being able to relive his adolescence. Since he knew how much he could lose, he made sure to make this second chance worth it. Instead of skipping meals and eating from the vending machine, he scarfed down whatever delicious meal his mother made, making both of his parents laugh at his sudden switch in behavior. 

“Eat slowly, or you'll choke,” his dad said with a chuckle when Minho piled on more food and eagerly shoved it down his throat.

He took the opportunity to join a dance class like he did when he was a kid, knowing that he regretted not doing it years later.

Instead of wasting time in class and being moody, he studied—trying to study. 

Then again, he had you to help. Y/N, the wise one, teased when the two of you sat together in the library during lunch on the premise of studying, but you mostly ended up laughing so hard that the librarian kicked the two of you out. 

He spent more time with his friends, doing everything he was bitter about later in life.

Months passed by like this. Minho woke up in his bed every day, was greeted by his 2PM posters on his wall, ate breakfast with his parents, and went to school. He daydreamed about you in class, much to the suspicions of his friends, and walked home with you. He had to make sure nothing happened to you that would derail his plan for the perfect future.

“Do you like Y/N?” Hyunjin asked during lunch one day, pulling a chair out in front of him with a loud scraping noise. It was autumn, and the air was much colder in the mornings than it was a few weeks ago. The cherry blossom trees were barren, awaiting spring to bloom once more. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Hyune.” Minho greeted him and continued to eat his lunch.

“Don't deflect my question. Do you like her or not?”

“And if I do?”

Hyunjin's eyes went so big that Minho thought they'd fall right out of their sockets. “Seriously?”

“Why is it that interesting to you?”

“Oh, this is a golden opportunity.” Hyunjin leaned forward with his elbows on the desk.

“Why are you so interested in my love life?”

“Please, the last time you admitted to having a crush, it was on the idol singer Lee Hyori. I have a right to be curious.” Minho rolled his eyes, but he was a bit flustered. He still hadn't thought of how he would take the relationship with you to the next level. The last time he planned to confess, well, that didn't end well. “What do you like about her? She's pretty; I get that. And she's really good at art, and she's smart.”

“Have you made your point?” He raised a brow.

Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh. “You're so mean, Lee Minho.” He hit his shoulder lightly. “I'm just saying this, okay? But I accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation her friends were having—an accident, okay? And I think I heard Y/n's name moving in the same sentence.”

Minho choked, his face turning red as he coughed, picked up his water bottle to drink some water, and took big gulps of air afterwards. “What?”

Hyunjin's words haunted him the whole day and then the next day because you weren't coming to school, nor were you answering his texts. He was trying hard to not look desperate, but he was grasping at straws. 

The weekend rolled around, and he was getting worried. What if Hyunjin was right and you had moved away? But you wouldn't do that without telling him, right? The two of you were friends. 

Friends.

His mother had the worst timing when she sent him to pick up some things from the store—a loud crack of thunder and the pitter-patter of raindrops began the second he stepped into the convenience store. He grabbed the things he needed as well as an umbrella, purchasing all of them at the register before standing outside underneath the umbrella.

That was when he caught the familiar sight of your form, crouching on the side of the road next to a small ball of fluff. The umbrella you were using barely covered you, as you were instead shielding a pair of kittens and cooing at them.

Minho's heart leaped into his chest, his legs moving on their own towards you and standing right next to you, covering you with his own umbrella. You looked up and then at him, a smile breaking out on your face, but this time he didn't return it.

“What happened to you? You disappeared for two days, and Hyunjin said you were moving and you weren't responding to me and—”

“Whoa, Min, breathe,” you chuckled and stood up. “What moving? I'm not moving. My friend is.”

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “Oh.”

You laughed. “Were you worried about me?”

“Of course I was,” he blurted out, his cheeks flushing. He cleared his throat and looked away from you, his heart dancing in his ribcage. He'd planned to do this once before, but standing in front of you, all the courage drained right out of him, and he was left as a puddle of nerves. “So why didn't you come to school then?”

“I was sick.”

“You were sick. And you were out here standing in the rain for two cats?” He shook his head. “Hold this.” He pushed the umbrella he was holding into your hands and quickly shed his jacket, putting it over your shoulder and pulling the hood over your head, using it to try and dry your hair. “You're going to get sick again.” His hands stopped at the sides of your face, his lips parting as he looked into your eyes.

“Thank you…” Your face was also turning red at the proximity between the two of you that he just noticed. 

Minho swallowed the lump in his throat. Now or never. “I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I couldn't tell you this before because I was too scared, but now I know how much I have to lose.”

“What are you saying, Min?”

“Just let me finish, okay?” He took a deep breath, pushing a stand of wet hair out of your face. “I… I like you, Y/N. For a really long time, longer than you think.”

He waited with bated breath for your answer. “I like you too, Minho. I've liked you for a while now.”

He couldn't wait anymore. It was obviously too forward of him, but he'd been dreaming of this for way too long, and he wasn't going to let it slip through his fingers again. He pulled your face towards his and crashed his lips onto yours. You let out a muffled sound of surprise, but you reciprocated it, the umbrella falling out of your hands and onto the ground with a thud. Your arms rested on his shoulders while his drifted down to your waist, holding you in an embrace as he tenderly kissed you. Fireworks went off inside him. He could feel the thundering of your heart right above his. The two of you were soaked from the relentless rain, but he could care less.

He broke the kiss, his forehead leaning on yours as he took a few breaths. “Sorry, I just really wanted to do that.” It was a half-baked apology since he wasn't very sorry at all. His eyes were closed, taking in the intimacy of the moment.

“I liked it; don't worry. Just warn me next time, okay?”

Minho couldn’t help but tease you. "Oh, so you want a next time?” He laughed loudly when you hit his arm. “Of course there will be a next time; I plan on giving you many, many kisses.” He planted another one on your forehead to prove his point. He closed his eyes again and hugged you tightly.

Minho's head felt like it was splitting in two. Where was he? He blinked his eyes open, the white light above him causing him to groan. His clothes didn't feel wet anymore, and he was lying down with a white blanket over him. He lifted his hand up, only to see it was bandaged.

“Why—”

Memories of the car crash flooded his mind, and a flash of panic went through him. “No, no, no, no, no.” Was that really just a dream? Were you really gone? He felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes, his chest heaving up and down until—

“Thank God you're awake,” a voice said. He felt a hand brush the hair off of his forehead. The voice sounded too much like yours. But it couldn't be. All of that was in his imagination. 

Then you came into focus, your face filled with worry and your eyes pink, like you'd been crying for a while.

“Y-Y/n?” He lifted his bandaged hand up to your cheek. He needed to know you were real. He let out a sob of relief when he felt the warmth of your skin beneath his palm and then your own hand covering his. “You're here…”

“Of course I'm here, silly. Where else would I be?”

He pulled you onto him, tucking your head into his chest, and kissed the top of your head as a few tears rolled down his cheek. “Thank goodness.” He held you like that for a while, taking in the comforting scent of your perfume mixed in with the smile of your shampoo. “What happened?”

“Your car crashed on your way home from work... you don't remember?”

“That happened?”

“Yeah, the doctor said you had a concussion. You weren't waking up... I was so scared.”

His heart broke at your words. “I'm never leaving you, ever. You can't get rid of me that easily.” You let out a broken laugh and clung onto him. He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Minho was discharged a day later. The doctor said he might experience temporary amnesia due to his head trauma and that he'd regain his memories soon. He still couldn't believe everything that had happened. He'd managed to save you. You were here with him.

The two of you took a stroll in the park, hand in hand, underneath the cherry blossoms trees. “Hey, Y/n?” He said softly, making you turn to him with a soft hum. “I love you.”

You smiled. “I love you too, Minho.”

That was all he needed to hear. A breeze shook the branches of the trees and the sakuras fell once again. He squeezed your hand and continued to walk alongside you as the pink petals and flowers showered on him, and this time, you were by his side. Where you were meant to be.

©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

[parkerluvsu]

need some virgin! art x touch starved! reader who really fucking needs some action and he just DOESN’T KNOW HOW so it’s a lot of laughter but both of them kiss so desperately…

I'D WANNA BE NEXT TO YOU..

(virgin art donaldson x touch starved! fem reader)

art has been your best friend since forever.. from sharing ice cream cones as kids to sharing homework answers in high school. you didn't want to lose him when he went all the way to stanford for college, so you went with him, stating that you already wanted to go to school there, it was just a coincidence that they had a tennis program for art. it was no secret that you two liked each other, it was obvious since you were young, and once you decided to follow art to college it was clear to him that he wanted to do something about it.

it was a normal sunny day at school, you made your way down the winding paths to the tennis courts like you usually do after class, knowing art is probably there practicing. he greets you with his usual smile and wave, walking over to say hi, spitting out his gum on the way. "hey, you're here earlier than usual" he says, "not that im complaining" you look away to hide the light blush forming on your face. "yeah well my lecture ended early, i thought i'd come surprise you" you smile, admiring the thin sheen of sweat on arts face, the moisture turning his hair curlier than usual. art says that his practice isn't over yet, but he'll come hang out at your dorm after. you nod, leaving and heading to your room to prepare. you know it's not normal to feel this pressure to be perfect for your friend, but you can't help but take a quick shower, slathering your body and hair in sweet smelling soap and spraying some perfume around the room.

you feel your stomach jump when art knocks on your door (you should really just give him a key), walking over and looking back at your room to make sure everything looked good, before opening the door. art immediately notices the sweet smell of you, his eyes fluttering shut as he greets you. "hi.. you smell nice" he says shyly, a big change from his demeanor earlier. you smile, waving him into your room and sitting cross legged on the bed. art sits next to you, on the edge of the bed, which you find strange, usually he gets comfortable right away. "are you okay art? you don't seem like yourself.." tilting your head to the side you try to meet arts eyes, but he doesn't look at you. "you know you can talk to me art, we've been friends since forever, you know?" he nods slowly, taking a deep breath before turning and facing you, sitting cross legged like you are. "okay.. ill tell you, but promise not to laugh at me okay?" you nod, urging him to speak more. "well.. patrick has been making fun of me a lot lately, you know how he is.. when he found out i was a virgin in college he couldn't believe it.. and- and i know we've been friends forever so i was wondering if you could help" he blurts it out so fast you have to take as second to actually understand what he means. "art.. are you sure? i mean wouldn't you want your first time to be with someone you like?" you ask, hoping you'll get the answer you're looking for. "i- it would be, if it was with you" he says, hanging his head down. he knows it's putting you in an awkward situation but it's now or never. you don't know why it happens, but you start to giggle, your heart filling with happiness after art confessed. "listen, art you know i'd do anything for you yeah? i just wanna make sure you actually want this.. with me, i don't want you to regret it" art looks toward you, finally meeting your eyes with his watery blue ones. "i could never regret anything i do with you" he says, leaning closer and pressing his lips to yours, sighing happily when you take control of the kiss, deepening it as you climb into his lap. pulling away and cupping his flushed face with your hands you press your forehead against his. "tell me if you want to stop okay art? ill take care of you i promise" he nods slowly, only looking at your lips and wishing they were on his again. you kiss him, more aggressively than before as you let your fingers wander down his chest, gently tugging at the hem of his shirt, feeling his flushed skin underneath. art gets the message, pulling off his shirt as he lets you do what you want to him, shifting from kissing him to sucking down his neck, leaving blooming purple marks in your wake that are sure to get art in trouble. he welcomes it though, he needs a reminder that you were actually here with him, that he wasn't imagining it. when you make your way back to arts mouth he whines softly, pulling at your shirt, "wanna see more of you.." you laugh softly, leaning back and pulling off your shirt, happy to press your own heated skin against arts. his head is reeling, the first girl he ever liked is kissing him, not just that but she's gonna take his virginity, art almost can't believe it, but feeling of you in his lap pulls him into reality.

after a few minutes you lean up on your elbows, telling art to take his finger out. "did i do something wrong?" he immediately asks, scared that he hurt you. "no no it's okay, i just think that im ready to have you inside of me okay?" he nods quickly and makes his way back up the bed, his hips hanging over yours. you fumble around on your nightstand to find a condom, taking it and handing it to art (who only knows how to put one on due to his embarrassing sex ed classes in high school) and spreading your legs wider to accommodate his frame. art looks quite anxious for someone who's about to lose his virginity with a girl he's liked his whole life, so you take his mind off of it by kissing him softly, not aggressively like before. when he starts to slowly enter you have to close your eyes at the stretch, he's not uncomfortably thick but he's definitely the longest you've taken. opening your eyes you're faced with art in the same situation, fully inside of you but not moving, his eyes scrunched closed. finding his hand white-knuckling the sheets next to your head, you replace the sheets with your own hand, lacing your fingers together. "art are you okay?" he nods, taking a deep breath. "yeah im fine it's just.. you're so warm and tight.. feels like i can't move" he almost whines, slowly dragging his hips out before pressing balls deep inside of you again. "fuck.." art swears he's in heaven when you clench around him, his forehead dropping to touch yours as he starts a steady pace, keeping in mind he could cum pretty much anytime. he can tell he's too nervous to get closer to you, so, making the move first you wrap your arms and legs loosely around him, feeling him actually relax and stop tensing his body. the closeness spurs him on as art sets a faster pace with his hips, now not even pulling out all the way, mostly just humping his hips into you. you weren't expecting him to perform as well as he is, feeling yourself clenching around him as you get closer. "art.. art im close.." you whine out to him and he nods, his eyes still closed as he squeezes your hand. as he gets closer you notice he also gets much louder, whines and moans escaping his lips with no sign of stopping, mostly utterings of "fuck you're so warm" and "please keep squeezing me like that" and though you love hearing him you know your neighbors will complain, so you kiss him yet again, still soft like before, and you can tell that both of you are trying to convey feelings of fondness through it.

you aren't surprised that art cums before you, with a loud moan that you're glad you had the foresight to stifle. it almost sends him into complete overstimulation when you cum, clenching tight around him. after the adrenaline wears off from cumming, art completely rests his body weight on you, his warm body actually weirdly comforting in the moments after sex. you sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before art finally pulls out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the trash before laying back down with you. "i really can't thank you enough.. i mean i thought losing my virginity would be awesome but.. that was like next level.." you laugh at arts flattering but funny wording as you flip onto your side, looking up at him. "of course art.. we've been friends forever, there's nothing i wouldn't do for you" arts stomach drops at the mention of friends, immediately thinking the worst. "so.. after this we'll just go back to being friends?" he has the cutest pout on his face when he asks. you almost laugh again, stopping yourself when you see the serious look on his face. "i mean after this i would hope that we could be more than that" you say, sitting up slightly. art let's out a breath he didn't know he was holding when you say that, "thank god.. ive been waiting to ask you to be my girlfriend for like 8 years now.." he smiles genuinely at you, his pretty blue eyes gleaming in the beams from the sun peeking through your window. you lean in, pressing a soft kiss before pulling away, reaching over for his backpack. "what are you doing?" he asks, confused when you hand him his phone. "don't you want to tell patrick the good news?"

art doesn't have much experience with his own pleasure, only finding time to jerk off quickly in the shower or to help himself sleep before bed, so he can't explain it when his hips start to cant against yours, whines and little moans escaping his swollen lips. you smile when his hips start to move, knowing that since it's his first time he probably can't help it, but you can't stop yourself from teasing him. "excited art?" you smile against him. he immediately blushes, hiding his face in your neck. "i- im sorry i don't know why that's happening.." he says, panting into your mouth. you giggle, feeling a bulge against you as you stop kissing art and look at him. arts lips are shiny and slick with spit, his chest and face flushed and his hair curled with sweat. "do you.. want to go further?" you ask even though you know the answer. he nods quickly, "yes.. please i do" you smile, happy with his answer, leaning forward and kissing him. you tap his hips with your hands to signal him to lift them, pulling off his gym shorts and exposing his boxers underneath. he gasps at the pressure of your hand on his bulge, the warmness of your hand feeling different (and much better) than his own. you look up at him, silently asking if you can go further and he nods, lifting his hips again to let you pull off his boxers, groaning when his drooling dick slaps against his tummy, smearing precum where it rests. art is so sensitive that even the air touching him makes him twitch. he looks away, embarrassed of his sensitivity and the fact that he's the only one naked. sensing his nervousness you say softly, "it's okay art, i knew you'd be sensitive, it's your first time after all, i was sensitive too" he smiles and nods, biting the inside of his cheek at the thought of you being the sensitive one.. but he'll save that thought for another day. he's brought rudely back into reality when you touch his dick softly, running your fingers gently from his flushed pink tip to his base, tightening your grip until art pretty much slaps your hand away. "i- im sorry i was too close, i don't wanna cum yet.." he says, trying to avoid the embarrassing truth that he just wants this experience to last longer. you nod, deciding to pull off your shorts and panties as well, for the first time feeling a bit embarrassed as art can't pull his gaze away from you. "you can touch me if you want to art.. i can help you" he nods wordlessly as you switch positions, now you lay back against your pillows as art hovers over you, desperate for the next step. "okay art, so before we do anything you have to prep me okay? it's best to use your fingers.." it's awkward to talk about it to him, but knowing it's his first time helps spur you along. "okay and.. and where do i put them?" art asks, looking up at you for guidance. you move him down the bed, so that he can be face to face with your pussy. the urge to squirm away or cover yourself up is hard to resist, and art is able to tell that, gently placing a warm hand on your inner thigh, the pressure calming you down. you take his other hand in yours, slowly guiding him down to your slit but letting him push a finger in on his own. he looks up at you constantly for validation that what he's doing is right, and feels good to you, his eyes widening when you clench around his finger, his dick twitching against the bed when he imagines how nice you'll feel against him. finally relaxing, you let art do his thing, blissfully rocking your hips against his hand. you're thankful that you're able to do most of the work, letting art just experience things for the first time.

[grandline-fics]

Can I just say I LOVE your writting? 'cause I do! And I'm so happy requests are open! 🥹 Here I am wondering if you can indulge little old me with a request. I went through your prompts and picked two! If you can combine them, I'd be delighted! If not, it's okay!

Here:

Jealousy fuelled kiss with the sentence:

"Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?"

My request is a Fem reader and I would love to read Ace, Zoro and Law, if you don't mind! Throw in more if you'd like, I always love me some feral Kid, for instance... But whatever tickles your fancy! I just like some jealous boys! 🤭😋

Thank you again for sharing your gift! 🫶🏻❤️

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Jealousy fuelled kiss w/ “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”

WARNINGS: jealousy! but nothing else apart from that

CHARACTERS: Ace, Zoro, Law, Kid, Rob Lucci

WORDS: 3,531

A/N: Thank you for this request! I added Kid for you and also did one for Lucci because why not haha. I tried to make each scenario different and interesting and I hope you like what I came up with.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

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ACE

“Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” You looked over in the mirror in front of you to see Ace appear in the doorway, arms folded and pout heavy on his lips. You let out a satisfied laugh and finished getting ready for a night out on the island the Moby Dick had just docked at. As you adjusted your outfit-the one Ace loved you in the most- you noticed how his hands twitched. You could tell he wanted nothing more than to close the distance and do exactly what he’d just confessed and ordinarily you would have let him. However tonight was different and Ace only had himself to blame. Earlier in the evening just before you’d gone to get ready you made a comment about hoping Ace wouldn’t be as flirtatious with the locals this time. He in turn responded with an idle wave of his hand and a comment that. “It’s just harmless babe, you know you’re the only one I want.”

While you knew that was true, the fact that Ace hadn’t even taken a second to consider how you felt was what annoyed you. You weren’t even asking him to stop flirting with others since it sometimes worked in the crew’s favour, you just wanted him to tone it down a little. So after that comment you’d told Ace that from now until you both returned to the ship you were both to pretend you weren’t a couple and you could also flirt with the locals too. Ace had initially grinned and shrugged, happy to play along since it was only flirting and you’d be his again when you both returned to the ship at the end of the night. His grin dropped though when you reminded him that this meant he wasn’t allowed to kiss or touch you at all.

The harsh reality of the situation hit him hard when it was less than hour had passed in the bar and he could barely concentrate on those he was talking to. Try as he might to be laid back as normal he couldn’t help but have his gaze pulled towards you every time the smallest movement occurred in your direction. You’d drawn plenty attention when you’d arrived and he’d expected it. Ace had always counted himself the luckiest man alive you have been the one you chose and jealousy was a foreign feeling to him so to feel it now was unsettling. Over and over he’d reminded himself that it didn’t mean anything. 

Then he heard you laugh and watched when the person talking to you stepped just a little closer. At the same time, the glass in his hand exploded and he looked at his hand engulfed in fire and slight scorch marks on the table. Ace rose and handed money to the barman to cover the cost of the minor damages before stepping out into the cool air to clear his head. He got as far as the fountain in the town-square and sat down, closing his eyes. “Not as easy to be on the watcher’s side is it?”

Ace turned his head sharply to see you sitting down beside him. Immediately he wasted no time in leaning forward. With his fingers pinching your chin and free hand sliding into your hair he claimed your lips, pulling you dizzyingly into one of the most intense and fiery kisses he’d ever given you. Surprised, you managed to recover and return the kiss with equal fervour while letting your boyfriend dictate the pace until you felt you couldn’t breathe. Finally you reluctantly pulled back just enough to catch your breath while Ace pressed more kisses against your jaw and throat. “Lesson learned.” He rasped against your skin, lifting his head to smirk at you. “Jealousy sucks.”

“I dunno…” you laughed, securing your hands on his shoulder and chest. “Has its uses if I get more kisses like that.”

ZORO

Zoro normally has no problem voicing his own thoughts. Someone’s being a moron? He’ll tell them to shut up and get out of his way. Someone fought fiercely and strong enough to earn his praise? He’ll do so and even make it a point to name something specific he witnessed to ensure them he is being genuine. Zoro prided himself in being upfront and unfortunately he had to call himself a fucking coward. Because he just couldn’t bring himself to tell you how he felt and anytime he considered it, he backed out just as fast. Instead he had to subject himself to the self-inflicted torture of being close with you but not in the way he fully wanted while also trying to convince himself that he only sees you as a friend because at the moment that’s all he can see you being with him.

“That drink say something to piss you off or something?” Zoro glanced out of the corner of his good eye to see Nami appear and lean against the railing he was also using to brace himself against. “You’ve been glaring at it instead of drinking it and I got concerned.”

“Nothin’ to bother yourself about.” He answered gruffly, forcing his gaze to look out at the lower section of the deck and sipped his drink as if to prove her worry wrong. Though now he had to look at the one thing he’d been trying to avoid; you talking and laughing with the others.

“You should just tell them how you feel already.” Nami hummed, her knowing smirk hidden by the rim of her glass. “Better do it soon too before your chance disappears.”

“Dunno what you’re talking about.” Zoro tried to sound casual but her second remark had made him tense. “Definitely don’t know what you mean about my chance either.”

“Oh please, most of us know you have a feelings for them, we’re just shocked you never made a move yet.” Nami kept her gaze steady on the swordsman, trying to get him to finally see sense. “But now Sanji’s patience has run out. Says if you’re going to be such a coward about it all he’ll finally do what he’s wanted to for ages.”

“Hah!?” Zoro shouted a little too loudly, even drawing the attention of the group below. You looked up at Zoro curiously, watching as he abruptly looked away from the collective stare to focus on Nami with a harsh stare, turning his body slightly to face her. “What’s that shit cook think he’s planning? When the fuck did he call me a coward? I’m gonna slice his smug face off.”

“Wow…for a second there I’d think you were jealous at the thought of them actually falling for Sanji’s charm.” Zoro scoffed and rolled his eyes. The only charm the cook had in his opinion would barely fill a thimble. There was no way you’d fall for that over the top, dramatic, overused nonsense that he threw at anyone with a pulse. Would you? 

Cautiously Zoro looked down at the scene again and his face contorted in disgust to see Sanji’s arm loosely over your shoulder as the two of you laughed at something Usopp was telling the group. Feeling his stare, Sanji glanced up and smirked at Zoro, lightly squeezing your shoulder in affection to you but in also brazen challenge to Zoro. Sharply Zoro turned on his heel and walked down the small staircase, approaching you silently. You looked up at Zoro with a smile, excited that he was finally going to join you all but your smile lessened and became a look of concern to see how serious he was. You were about to ask if he was okay but he spoke first. “I need to talk to you in private.”

Immediately you got to your feet. You knew Zoro well enough to understand he was a man of few words and if he needed to speak to you in private then it was serious. Silently you followed him below deck, only stopping when he felt he was a safe enough distance away from the nosy crewmates left above. You let the seconds tick by, allowing Zoro take his time in voicing his thoughts but seeing him so tense made you worry. Gently you lay your hand on his arm in a way to reassure him that you were there. A gasp left you as Zoro turned suddenly and pulled you against him. His hand fell to your waist as he stared at your parted lips with growing hunger.

“Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” The words dropped from his mouth barely a whisper but he was so close each syllable lightly grazed your skin. Unable to speak you could only nod in consent and sank headlong into the kiss Zoro secured on your lips.

LAW

When Law was captivated by his research, medical procedures, and all over Captain duties, you had to take it upon yourself to keep yourself busy. Normally that was no issue when you were on the Polar Tang and had your own duties and routine to occupy your mind with. This time was different. After running into the Strawhat crew on Punk Hazard you could only sit back and watch as Law proposed an alliance with the rival crew in order to take down one of the four Emperors. You’d been taken by surprise seeing as your Captain and boyfriend didn’t tend to play well with others who weren’t on his crew. Quickly you saw him begin to regret his offer when events began to unfold and Law found himself being dragged along by Strawhat’s whims rather than his planned course of action. 

Everything had worked out in the end though and now you and Law were on the Thousand Sunny, set for Dressrosa. Even though Law wasn’t on his own ship, he quickly made himself at home in the ship’s library and began to indulge in the large collection of books now at his disposal. Knowing you wouldn’t see him anytime soon you had to explore the ship for something to catch your attention since according to the allied crew you were a guest on board and didn’t need to do chores. It went against your nature. You wanted to help and be useful so you still offered each day you were on board. “Aren’t you tired wearing that all the time?”

You turned at the sound of Nami’s voice and immediately you looked down at your boiler suit. It was your normal clothing for the Polar Tang so you really hadn’t considered wearing anything else. Plus being on another crew’s ship it made you feel more at home, unable to stop yourself from missing the others that you knew you would reunite with at some stage. Casually you shrugged and smiled at the red-haired woman. “It’s comfy.”

Apparently that wasn’t a good enough answer because the next thing you knew, Nami had you dragged to her room and was throwing clothes at you to try on while telling you that you were far too good looking to hide everything under so much fabric. Mostly you went along with her whims because it would be a way of taking up your unending free time on the ship. Another part of you also got drawn into how nice some of the clothes felt and looked and it was harmless fun.

Law finally dragged himself from his spot in the library and stretched out his stiff limbs. Despite his medical knowledge, he still ended up sitting in the most unwise positions that would leave his back aching and neck tensed. With a groan he made his way out onto the deck only to stagger to a halt when he saw you wearing something completely different to what he was used to you wearing but he was in no way complaining. He loved how you looked regardless but you were breathtaking. His adoration for you was suddenly soured when he saw the others fawning over you. The cook he had no issue with, but to see the sniper blushing and even the swordsman openly talking to you made him glare. Then Strawhat had to push his luck too. “You’re so great! You know you should stay on my crew!”

Law’s room activated and you were promptly swapped to now be pressed close against Law’s side. Before you could reprimand your boyfriend for being rude you were pulled below deck to the library once more and pushed against the door as it closed. You looked up at Law with widened eyes and quickened heart rate, the look in his eyes making your mouth dry and skin warm.

“It’s bad enough that I see you looking so good. I mean do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?” He began lowly and you shuddered slightly. “But then I have to see them trying to get too close to you and Strawhat thinking he’s worthy of having you? Ridiculous.”

Law quickly closed the distance, using his frustration and jealousy to spur him on, kissing you passionately.

KID

Kid had no problem with people looking at you appreciatively. I mean, why wouldn’t they? Look at you. It was clear to anyone with any sense in their skulls that you were one of the hottest people about. For him to see the looks you deserved filled him with a smug sense of pride because you only had eyes for him. He was the lucky bastard that got you all to himself in the ways that it mattered. So they could take their pathetic glimpses and live with the fantasy of picturing what it was like to be with you because he got the real thing. However what he didn’t like was to watch anyone to touch you in a way that wasn’t friendly. 

On this occasion he sat in the darkened corner of a bar having to watch as you were being talked to by some drunken lech. You’d gone to the bar to collect the next round of drinks for the crew when someone approached. At first Kid had shook his head and smirked at the poor fool’s attempt to flirt but then he drew too close to you that Kid disliked. Still he knew you could handle yourself so he just had to grind his teeth and wait for you to expertly disengage yourself like you normally did. However you seemed drawn into the conversation with this man and Kid’s eyes narrowed. 

Immediately he stood with the intent on breaking things up but stopped when you quickly met his gaze. When the drunk turned his head to order another drink you had time to mouth ‘Marine’ to your boyfriend. Kid remained standing and glanced at the man warily, now seeing why you were being careful with him. Slowly he drew closer, making sure his movements were careful and silent while you kept the Marine’s attention effortlessly. Kid knew it was an act but seeing you indulge the man more made his anger grow. Just as Kid stepped behind the Marine, he drunk set his hand on your thigh and squeezed it while leaning closer to your face. “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?”

Kid had planned to just give the bastard one quick hit to knock him out but seeing that and hearing the words spill from his mouth, he snapped. Reeling his metal arm back, he tapped the Marine on the shoulder. When he turned, his hulking fist connected with the man’s face sending him launching off his feet and slamming painfully against the bar’s wall with the impact smashing the glasses and bottles. Seeing the Marine slumped on the floor helped Kid’s pent up rage but it wasn’t enough. Quickly he grinned at you and pulled you into his arms so he could throw you over his shoulder and leave the bar, no longer in the mood to drink. You stayed happily on Kid’s broad shoulder with a growing smirk as you listened to his jealous mutterings the closer you drew to the ship. 

When you were finally set on your feet on the ship you turned in Kid’s hold that he refused to let you out of and smiled up at him expectantly. When Kid got like this you could practically time the sequence of events and this was your favourite part. Kid stooped down and with a low groan kissed you, devouring your taste and consuming your thoughts with only him while letting your magnetic presence and intoxicating touch leave him wanting more. You were the only one for him and by the morning should anyone look your way in appreciation again they’d spot some pretty marks on your neck to admire too.

LUCCI

Lucci was a master of his emotions for the most part. He could adopt a personality and live it perfectly for the purposes of a mission and then discard it when it was finished. He could keep his true nature at bay should he need it but in the freedom of Cipher Pol’s base he can just be himself. With powerful strides he walks down the corridors only to stop outside one of the training rooms in time to see you land a kick against Jabra’s stomach. Quickly he recovered and sent an attack your way. You managed to dodge it in time but Jabra caught you by surprise by sending a followup attack and knocked you to the ground, his hand at your throat to keep you pinned down.

For a moment you let your body go slack in a sign of surrender and the second you felt Jabra’s grip loosen you acted, disentangling out of his hold and attacked, taking advantage of his moment of surprise. Just as you were getting into the rhythm of the fight another agent appeared beside Lucci. “Jabra! We have a mission! Did you forget or something?”

You and Jabra paused your fight and you scowled at your sparring partner. You wouldn't have asked him to train with you had you known he would have to cut it short for a mission that he apparently knew about. Jabra briefly glanced at Lucci and quickly threw his arm around your waist before answering his mission partner. “Nah, didn’t forget. I just got a much better offer.” his wolfish grin spreading when he spotted Lucci’s eyes narrow at the comment. You however rolled your eyes and stepped out of the older agent’s hold. “We’ll pick this up when I get back, right?”

“We’ll see.” You told him dismissively which only earned you a quick wink before he left, leaving you alone in the training room with Lucci who remained leaning against the door, looking at his shoulder in disgust when Jabra had the nerve to brush past him on his exit.

“Didn’t know your standards were so low when picking a sparring partner.” He noted, watching you critically. You tilted your head at him curiously and slowly smirked. 

“I’ll be fighting degenerates and unsavoury people out in the field, I wanted someone as close to that as possible for authentic training purproses.” You explained with a light shrug. “Jabra fits that closely, don't you think?”

Lucci allowed himself a low chuckle and pushed away from the doorframe, while pulling the door closed behind him to grant you both a moment of privacy. Your relationship with Lucci was one ou both didn’t feel like putting a real label on. For now you merely enjoyed the physical and social benefits it brought. You remained still as you watched him approach, your eyes alight with interest and mischief that not even he could find himself immune to. “I can see the logic but I can smell that filthy mutt all over you.”

“Jealous?"

“I don't get jealous.” Lucci growled, his hand setting on your waist, merely a coincidence that his hand covered the precise spot Jabra had touched. Your lips twitched into a disbelieving smile and you playfully nodded, pretending to accept his claim. Lucci’s free hand reached up to skim along your throat, again pure coincidence at the placement before he curled his fingers under your jaw to coax you to tilt your head up. “Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now to get rid of that mutt’s stench?”

“Then do it, Chief.” You said stepping a tiny bit closer. “Let Jabra come back and know for sure that I’m a cat person.” 

With a growl Lucci kissed you possessively, hungrily with purpose of doing just as you suggested. His main goal was to wipe any lingering trace of Jabra from your skin and wipe the other man’s name from your mind. He was very aware that you didn’t see the wolf man that way but still it brought out that animalistic conflict in him, the need to be better than him and from your reactions to his kiss he knew for sure that Lucci was the clear winner.

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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @chaotic-on-main

[prismdewdrop]

dangerous territory 

Summary: jason todd may be exhausted after a long night of vigilance, but if you've stayed up late just to talk to him, he's going to make sure he knows exactly why.

or: jason and reader are both idiots and should probably just kiss, but they're idiots, so they do... whatever this is instead.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: mention of jason's death, mention of dead animals (in reference to the plot of john wick)

Tags: roommates in love, late-night conversations, mutual pining, jason is a little bit of an asshole (affectionate), he's not beating the little shit allegations, jason todd loves reader and is soo not normal about it, pov jason todd, everyone is 18+

A/N: long-time jason todd lover, first-time fic writer!

this work was inspired by @notnotacowpoke 's roommatesverse with jason, and they've been absolutely amazing with betaing and just going insane with me over this. you can read their work on ao3 :))

please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments or in the tags! thanks for reading <3

edit (a big thank you): omg thank you so much for the response, everyone! i genuinely can't believe my first fic on a sideblog got so much of a reaction, and I'm so, SO grateful. my inbox is open for your thoughts or requests for jason and his roommate reader! i'd love to say hi and explore this au some more!

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"Jay?" 

The sleep-soft call melts the night and the pain away. 

Halting his lonely trek to his room, Jason Todd turns towards your voice. A fresh bruise catches at the quickness of his movement, but he tucks away the wince into the back of his throat.

You're standing at your door, peering into the dark in his direction.

"Yeah, babe?" 

A low hiss makes it out of his throat as the endearment falls from his mouth. He waits to see if you caught it. You sounded exhausted, drowsy with much-needed sleep, and even in your apartment, the city was never quiet. Whether you heard it or not, though, you don't acknowledge it, waiting to hear a confirmation from him.

His heart aches for a split second, recognizing the fatigue in your voice, like the second skin he wears every day, accompanied by the tinge of fear that keeps him alive – and keeps you waiting to hear for sure if it's him.

"It's me. What's up?" he says again, louder this time.

You open the door wider, stepping more clearly into his view, just a little past the doorway. One side of your face and body is splashed in the ever-glistening lights of the city that leaks into your apartment in a haze of light gray.

The patch of light helps, and so does his helmet's night vision.

He can see you now, and like always, a breath catches in his throat–even rumpled with sleep, you look lovely and soft.

To you, he knows that he's just a larger patch of darkness against the dimness of your shared living room.

"You're back earlier than I thought you would be," you say finally.

He can see the concern flit over your face as you do your best to scan him in the darkness, checking in vain for any obvious wounds or hurts. He watches as your concern deepens when you're unable to make out anything in the dark, still reluctant to ask him to step into the light

"Slow night," he shrugs. 

He steps closer to you, not fully into the light but close enough that you can make out more of his form. He sees the relief wash over your face and your shoulders loosen a little as you clock his unaffected stride and note the lack of any visible wounds. He doesn't mention his new bruise. And he won’t, at least not until you tell him what it is that has kept you up so late. 

"I – well, I was waiting for you to come back..." 

A pause. 

You pull your lip between your teeth, eyes darting over his face, shoulders climbing towards your ears with tension. He can practically see your mind whirring, and he can see the exact moment you decide against finishing your sentence. Your eyes drop, and your shoulders with them. 

A sigh. 

Then: a small smile.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Which... you are. Clearly. I think. At least, you look—"

You stop yourself, realising that you were babbling. With a pasted-on sheepish smile and an awkwardly cheery wave, you turn towards the door. 

"Well! You must be tired, get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow morning!"

The forced cheer cuts through your fatigue for only a few seconds as you rush the words out and turn towards your room, and he sees the corners of your mouth dipping down the moment you think he can't see your face. You're not a bad liar, by any means. It just so happens that most of the time you're together, you're the only thing Jason sees.

"No."

"What?"

Confusion contorts your face as it snaps to look at him again. Your eyebrows knit together, lips pursing and pushing out into a pout. It's cute, and he's quite sure you have no idea you do this.

"I'm going to camp right out here," he gestures at the (incredibly uncomfortable) couch as he looks straight at you, challenge evident in his voice and in the set of his squared shoulders – "And I am not resting until you tell me what you need."

You frown, lips pressed together into a tight line. You're weighing his response, trying to piece together just how serious he is. Jason reaches up to unclasp his helmet, lifting it off and letting you see that there's very little humor in his eyes – just enough to soften you into spitting out what you really wanted to say — but not enough to let this go.

That's enough for you, though, even in the limited light. Only three months of cohabitation and somehow the both of you could read each other just as well as the stacks of books that crowded the apartment – well worn, annotated, so many of them in various states of disarray, torn and stained and bent, nearly all with cracked spines, but still so so beloved.

He can read you a little better, though, what with his years of vigilance and, well. Everything else that followed.

Jason knows you – the same way he knows the locations of all of Bruce's safe houses, or the exact number of times he could call Tim 'the replacement' before something heavy would be launched at his head. That is to say, concerningly well.

There wasn't a twitch of your eyebrow or a blush or a glare or an angry press of your lips against each other, or a quirk of them (he may have studied your lips especially well) that he hadn't committed to memory, that he didn't know by heart. He wonders if you know, and he wonders what you'd think if you did.

Another sigh, your shoulders sag further, and he makes a mental note to take you through some exercises to improve your truly terrible posture.

"Jason, it's really nothing that can't wait till morning, I just –"

"Come on, dude," He scoffs, not unkindly. "I know you wouldn't have stayed up so late if it wasn't important enough to keep you up."

He nods at the dregs of coffee in the mug you'd forgotten on the centre table for emphasis. There's no hiding from the world's third (or maybe fourth?) best detective that it's the special, strong type that you usually reserve for the most daunting of deadlines.

You swallow up the rest of your words and let out a huff. This time, it's more frustrated than tired, and he can see the flash of irritation in your eyes. You glance away from him, arms coming up to clasp your elbows, encircling yourself in a loose hug. Discomfort radiates off of you in waves, and as you sink your teeth into your lips again; he notes the steady rise of your shoulders towards your ears.

A flash of annoyance goes through him. Not at you — never at you — but whatever new inconvenience this city has wrought for you. Whatever it is that has you up and walking around at 3 AM in the morning after a draining day of work and study and worrying about him.

He fights the urge to step closer, to wrap his hands around your shoulders, smoothing the bare skin and loosening the tightness in them. It would be so easy — there's barely four feet between the two of you, in a few steps he could be holding you and —

He stops himself from following that particular train of thought.

Red Hood faces open gunfire head-on almost daily. Sometimes, he even takes an explosion or two to the face. Then there was the time he'd died, followed by all the times he'd almost died. And he still couldn't remember the last time he'd felt true, bone-deep fear.

But this, this was dangerous territory he was terrified of treading. Yet he was unable to deny the existence of the temptation, always tugging on something in his chest like a low undercurrent, occasionally crashing over him in a wave of desire to touch and protect and hold. To slip his fingers through yours, through your hair, over your lips, between them.

He wonders if you know how easily he can read you, see the way your mind is running through excuses and half-truths to throw him off right now, extricate yourself from this uncomfortable situation and put a safe distance between you again. He should let you do it, really. Even you know that this territory is... not for you. Which is why you were now teetering at its edge after taking these few hesitant steps towards it – him.

But still. He can't ignore the tug. He can deny the waves, stop himself with a savage jerk on his mental reins. That low undercurrent, however – he nurses it, lets it guide him. He has to. It hasn't been long since you met, but he already doesn't know what he would do without it guiding him back to you, day after night after day, painful blow after near-death encounter.

And so he narrows his eyes at you, ready to counter anything you say that isn't the truth.

He feels like a dick; he really does – dangling his well-being in front of you to get you to just stand up and say it. He does this sometimes, pushing you and inconveniencing you – borderline bullying you into being honest with him.

But he knows he's right to be doing this. You have enough fire in you to push back when need be, when he crosses a line, and knowing you, you would've stormed back into your room without a backward glance and with a slam of your door, if whatever this was wasn't bothering you so much.

"I..." You paused to glare at him, just to show him that even if you were playing along, you did not appreciate playing his games.

Jason hides his smile and just raises his eyebrows.

Hands clenching into fists, you glare up at the ceiling as you wrestle with your words, as if hoping for divine intervention.

Another sigh, this time an admit of defeat.

"Fine – but I'm warning you – it's stupid –"

"With you, roomie, I doubt it is."

"Jason, can you please stop interrupting me? I'm really trying here."

Jason raises his palms in a silent apology, an acknowledgement of his dickish behavior, saving the real sorries for later.

You nod in acceptance.

"Okay." Deep breath. "I just wanted to... show you something. And spend some time with you. You know, because we haven't been able to catch up lately and I –" You stop, voice strangling around the next words, catching yourself. You take a breath before continuing. "And I could really use your... insights."

Your voice trails off, and he can feel you wince internally as you slip into impersonal corporate speak, an effort to avoid any words that were more intimate than they had the right to be.

Jason knows. Or at least he can make a damn good guess as to what the words you'd struggled to choke off were. He knew, sure as hell, it wasn't ‘insights ’, but acknowledging the unsaid words was very much stepping into the dangerous territory. And like you had when he slipped up and called you babe, he doesn't.

If he felt anything less than what he did feel, he would have joked about it, said something like: "Aww, bestie, I miss you too". Then you would laugh and shake your head and you would slip back into the easy camaraderie that had marked the beginning of your relationship – before Jason had started noticing the precise way in which the hearts that you signed your notes off with varied in size and number depending on the mood you were in, or the way your hand reached for his every time you crossed a road together.

So instead, he says nothing. He just waits.

"I'll be in my room," you say, arms wrapping around yourself again, a blush rising steadily up your neck and onto your cheeks. You nod at his gear. "Whenever you're ready, just come in. I'll be up."

Oh. They were to be alone. In your room. Probably on the bed. No, definitely on the bed. There's no space for a desk or chair in rooms that come with apartments in this part of Gotham, especially the ones affordable for students. No, there's only one place they can sit comfortably together.

Not that they haven't sat on your bed – or his bed – together before. They have, countless times. They've cuddled and huddled, most times with a pile of snacks for company.

On the days they'd given up on any possibility of productivity, they'd marathoned all their comfort movies and franchises before falling asleep, arms around each other, legs tangled, and depending on who'd had the worst week, a head tucked under another's chin, lead gently into slumber by the comforting rhythm of a heartbeat.

They'd binged Lord of the Rings (NOT The Hobbit series; you both agreed that that was a waste of time, though Jason had stronger, angrier feelings towards it than you did), almost all the Austen adaptations (you could never decide which Emma you liked better – the one with Anya Taylor Joy had the beautiful production and a great depiction of the relationship between Emma and Harriet, but the one with Gwyneth Paltrow had a certain charm, and the leads good chemistry); John Wick that one time – he'd adored the way you'd poked him and asked him if he could do/had done some of the particularly impressive stunts (he could, and you'd been thoroughly impressed); Fast and Furious – only till the sixth one though – Jason personally thought Fast Five was where they should have ended their binge, but you were partial to the sixth one (because of the romance, you said), and Jason had grudgingly accepted it's merits. 

That was, what, at least 40 hours of just watching movies? And that didn't even include the time they'd spend just hanging out together, reading silently, or watching something on their own (though one of them would inevitably end up joining the other).

No, he's definitely been in your bed, comfortable with the tugging undercurrents of longing in every laugh you shared, the way you'd sniffled unfailingly at the last march of the Ents, and when his eyes watered at the ride of the Rohirrim, the way you'd both sighed at Darcy's confession, and when you'd turned to Jason as you watched John Wick lay waste to New York's criminal underworld in revenge for his dead dog, and ask: 

"You'd do this for me, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay, good. I'd maybe hire someone to do this for you, since you know. I can't kill a man with my bare hands."

You could kill a man with your smile, though, Jason remembered thinking. You killed him a little every day and brought him back just as well, each time just a little bit more whole than the last time he'd been brought back to life.

Sure, he'd been in your bed. But not like this, not when the darkness of the night had melted that thing in his chest – the thing that searched for you the moment he woke up – and brought it out from where it was safe in its cage, to the back of his mouth, the tips of his fingers, the pupils of eyes – poised right on the edge of saying, doing, showing the wrong thing.

Say no, the admittedly miniscule part of his brain that didn't leap to fulfill your every wish insisted. They've given you an out already. Just say you're more tired than you look and talk tomorrow. This isn't just treading - this is running blind and unarmed into dangerous territory. Say no.

But... they miss me, the overwhelmingly persuasive part of him that ached to sweep that particularly unrepentant loose curl into place every day reminds him. They're up and they're worried and they want me to come talk to them because they miss me. I miss them.

His heart twists. He can't say no, never could.

Jason wonders if you know that he would walk into a shootout blindfolded, without armor and with a grin, if that could bring you anything worthwhile. He turns a fond smile your way, his careful expression melting away. 

Your breath catches as the corners of his mouth lift. When Jason smiles like that, his eyes crinkle, they shine at you as if you're all he sees, and it was heartachingly beautiful in it's rarity.

Jason's smile was a golden patch of sun on a cold day; you're powerless in its wake to do anything except curl up in its warmth and bask – always longing for more and more. 

"You know I wouldn't say no to that. I'll be right there,” he says with all the seriousness of a wedding vow.

You fight the urge to linger, to drink in his smile with your eyes and infuse every inch of your body with it's sweetness. You force a small smile of your own and with a wiggle of your fingers, you return to your room, feeling his gaze settle on you until you close the door behind you gently.

He doesn't hear the click of the lock, and so when he heaves his own sigh of defeat, it's in the safety of his own room, between him and the busy silence of the city.

[cheriladycl01]

Funny Gaming moments with Lando and Max (F) x QuadrantStreamer! Reader

Plot: Just funny moments where Reader is a member of Quadrant and is a big UK streamer that does everything on Twitch and YouTube.

A/N: this is only small and just for fun, better Lando stuff is coming out.

Moment 1:

"Do you earn more than Lando Norris, chat you guys are wild ... but honestly with my individual sponsors, YouTube and streaming and any of my weird side activities I think it'd be up for debate" you giggle not actually knowing how much difference there was in what you or Lando earned.

"Not girlie casually admitting that with her side hustle she earns as much as an F1 driver, yeah guys, you gotta think I stream and upload full time. So i get paid for each YouTube video I do, I'm a twitch affiliate and you guys are so so generous. I game competitively and earn from that. I have sponsors, so ... lets just say i had no trouble buying Lando's Christmas presents" you grin, knowing the man had widely expensive taste.

"Who am i spending Christmas with, well Lando's family has asked if I'd like to join them, but I'll be spending the holidays mostly with Max and Pietra. Oh my gosh guys, did you see Instagram? I met Martin Garrix! How cool is that!" you laugh.

Moment 2:

"So I'm here today with Lando, and I'm teaching him Valorant, he knows that I'm in good but I don't think he knows I'm Immortal" you say until you unmute yourself in discord.

"Hey Lando baby" you joke but all you get from the otherside is silence which makes your chat go absolutely crazy.

You hear a few coughs that sound like choking, so you check his stream making sure not to tab out on stream, seeing him sat there in shock in his chair blushing.

"Lando?" you ask, and you watch as he rearranges himself in his chair pulling the mic closer to him.

"Hi, hello yes. Sorry you just threw me off guard" he laughs, wiping across his face with his fingers.

"What are we?" he asks, and you burst out laughing at the question which makes him laugh too. Chat on both ends starts going crazy, with the spam of Lando Norizz <<< Y/N the Rizzler and you were both dying.

Moment 3:

"Argghh fuck" you scream leaning back and fulling falling back off your chair. You were currently playing the horror game ' In Silence with Max, Lando and Ria.

"No way did Y/N just fall?" Max asks laughing at the girl whose stream he pulled up seeing her laying on the floor gripping her shoulder while her chair was now also laying in the floor.

"SHE DID" Lando laughs and you groan out in embarrassment.

Moment 4:

"What was that chat? My door reopened and closed shut while I was gone?" you ask looking back at your door. You knew you were home alone, the only people having a key to your apartment being Max and Pietra and Lando. But they were all travelling right now and were on the plane.

"Chat, stop messing with me" you scold jokingly, you start to load up the game your changing too. However a knock at your bedroom door has you stilling.

"What" you mouth looking at the camera. You go to the door, chat spamming saying how by opening the door that how all the dumb movie characters die. You here another knock making you flinch, you rip open the door, screaming when you see the scary mask, jumping and tacking the person now.

"Ow Y/N fuck" you hear and you rip the mask of, knowing that voice but not wanting to assume.

"Lando?" you ask looking at him.

"I thought it would be funny" he jokes laughing.

Moment 4:

"So Lando, Max and I thought it would be funny to play Valorant but for every kill we get we do a shot" you exclaim.

"Y/N gonna need new kidneys by the end of this? Hmmm very true, maybe we change it to every time we die we do a shot?" you ask seeing what chat's opinion would be on that.

"Then Lando and Max will be needing new kidneys? Well, I'm playing on my alt account and I'm just chilling so we'll be in gold/silver lobbies. Last time we played on my normal account, it was a struggle.

"Lets ask what they prefer! Guys? You want to do shots every time we get a kill or when we die?" you ask after unmuting yourself.

"We playing with MILF account of FnaticY/N?" Lando asks.

"MILF of course. And no comps, I'm not being called a booster" you grin and Max groans, Max was gold 2 and was asking for you to coach him, you had watched him in unrated's but refused to do comps together.

"Wait, when did you change your name...didnt it used to be Ilovetits6?" Max laughs.

"Yes, but chat started to call me mother? So i just rolled with it" you grin looking at chat and winking.

Moment 5:

"Are you and Lando Norris dating?" you ask, and then you open your phone and call Lando himself.

"Hey baby!" you smile and show the chat what Lando is saved as and the picture while he's on speakerphone.

"Hey love. I'm a little late coming back. I got stuck here with Zac and Oscar, but Max and P wanted to know if you would like to go out for dinner with them tonight" he asks and you laugh.

"Wait, Y/N are you live"

"Maybe, look you said you were ready to go public. So this is payback for what you did to Max on stream!" you laugh, knowing he wont be mad at you, as you'd talked recently about going public.

"Exposed? Yes yes i did" you grin.

Moment 6:

"Y/N your boyfriend is horny come sort him out" AngryGinge says adding you to the call forcefully mid stream.

"Mmmm that sounds like a job for you" you says seriously and you pull up his and Lando's stream to watch what was going on. Some people had come into your stream to say to get Lando to end the stream before PR has his head.

"He's been moaning on stream Y/N get your man and take him home"

"Yeah sorry let me just hop on the jet to Monaco..." you joke, knowing you definitely don't have a private jet.

"Wait, just how rich are you? Your boyfriends out here buying watches for 400k, you have a private jet. This just ain't right!" he exclaims making you laugh.

"I don't have a private jet. But... I've been in one of Max Verstappen's" you boast, you'd been introduced to him through Lando as Kelly wanted to meet you and set you up with her modelling agency.

"Huh? WHAT?" he screams and you just laugh before leaving the call. You shoot Lando a teasing message watching his eyes change as he reads it, and he lets out a groan that soon turns into a joke as Angry Ginge yelled at him to calm down again.

Moment 7:

"Salem stop" you tell your cat, which had jumped up and starting to paw in your lap where the blanket lay across before flopping down wanting fuss.

She started to meow at you not getting the wanted attention, but you were in the middle of an important rank up game, that would put you as radiant in Valorant.

As the game went on, you apologized to your teammates when you died after nearly clutching a round when Salem distracted you by pawing at your hand on your mouse.

"Salem please bub. 3 more rounds and you can have all the cuddles in the world" you whisper to the cat before she settles down, you proceed to Ace the next round and your team and you win the next two. The end of the game, with the MVP you get promoted to Radiant #497.

You celebrated by grabbing Salem your black Bombay cat and hugging her tightly, she leans into you wrapping her paws around happy for the affection she's finally getting.

"Treat?" you ask receiving a meow.

Chat:

y/nloverrr02- not y/n celebrating like she just got a podium

landonorizz- what's harder, f1 win, or reaching the top 500 valorant players

wedonttalkabouther- please, mother is mothering!

deadlocknerf- not her top fragging as an omen and their jett with a negative kda.

lockandassit- well done on the promo!

LandoNorris- Babe! Well done! I watched your win! I'm so proud

"Thank you, everybody. I think I'll leave it there for the day and I'll come back and we can try and get into the 450's!" you exclaim before cutting stream.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover

[pynkfairyheart]

pairings: toxic!Eren x black reader

warnings: toxic & manipulative Eren, smut 18+, mentions of cheating, a lil choking, first time writing in a while so it's a lil shitty, last sentence is a lil dramatic, nd she's not proofread

a/n: y'all, this is unfortunately based on true events૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ꒱ა however writing this did make me realize i need to stand the fuck up, bc there's no reason I'm writing this while he goes to get me some food from one of the girls job…please don't be like me and if you are STAND UP!!! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

For as long as you could remember you never understood why women went back to men who cheated. Maybe it was that you grew up seeing the effects cheating had on a family, or that it seemed impossible to be that blinded by love. Whatever it was you vowed to never be one of those women and you stuck with your word all throughout life up until you met Eren.

You heard about him long before you met him. The boy having a reputation for romancing women into his bed only to act as if he didn't know him the next day. You knew about his character when you met him, and believed you knew better than to fall for his tricks.

However, with just one look into those enticing green eyes, you ended up just like every other girl. Clawing at his back while he whispered sweet talk into your ear with every thrust.

You were prepared to never speak to him again. You knew what you had signed up for. Or at least you thought so. Like clockwork every night he'd have you back in his bed, wetting up the sheets as he claimed he could never get enough of you. In the beginning, you assumed he had run out of girls to play, but after the 2nd week, his sweet talking seemed genuine.

That was how you found yourself in a year long relationship with the one and only Eren Yeager. Over the course of 12 months, he showed you he had changed for the better. Or so you thought. It wasn't till you had an unsettling gut feeling one morning that you went through his phone and found the pictures from 4 different girls that you realized it was all a facade.

Like you promised yourself from a young age, you left him. Reasonably, you were angry, but that anger soon decimated and turned into sadness and shame, not from the fact he cheated or that you had just left a long term relationship but because you realized you'd take him back if he asked.

That day you gave your formal apology to all women you deemed stupid for taking their partners back because if given the chance you'd be one of them.

Within a month of ignoring the texts and calls from unsaved numbers and acting as if you weren't home, your strength wavered. Your excuse being that you had clothes from his place that you needed. You knew you should have had a friend come with you, but you felt it was unnecessary.

Unnecessary however wouldn't have you with your legs wrapped around his waist as he stuffed you with the dick that had your fingers itching to text him in the middle of the night.

“I'm sorry, baby. None of them meant anything” He whispered, kissing his way up your collarbone.

Oh, how you so badly wanted to push him off for telling lies, but the way he was buried deep inside your walls had you gasping for air and pulling him closer.

His lips curled into a smirk at the way you responded to him. Though he was unfaithful, he truly did have strong feelings for you. Whether it was true love or lust disguised as love, he would do anything to keep you in his arms.

"You know I love you, right? I'd never intentionally hurt you. It was just...stress and temptation, okay? Those girls meant nothing and could never compare to you.” He pulled back to look at you with the eyes that got you into the mess in the first place. His hips rocked into yours, the head of his dick putting pressure on the spot that made you see stars.

“I know, I love you too, Rennie'' You cried

Any normal person would feel guilty about the way they had you wrapped around their finger. Eren however relished in the way you melted in his arms, the intoxicating bond you shared leaving him to the conclusion that he couldn't live without you.

“Yeah? You gon leave me again?” He quickened the pace of his hips.

You said something incoherently as a strangled moan escaped past your lips, eyes fluttering shut from the intensity of his thrusts.

“Can't hear you, mama. You staying?” His hand leaving the sheets to wrap around your neck. Applying just enough pressure to make your thoughts hazy

“Yes, Ren. I'm staying. M'yours” You choked out, from both the ecstasy he was providing and because you truly did miss him.

“That's my girl” He praised, a twisted smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His thrust quickening as the sounds of skin slapping echoed through the room.

You could only whine and moan in response, the sounds driving him crazy as you looked into his eyes. Nothing but love and lust swimming through them.

“You so pretty, mama” He mumbled, the hand that was once wrapped around your neck coming down to rub small rapid circles on your clit.

“Rennie” You cried, toes curling as you arched off the bed. Stray tears falling from the corners of your eyes at the combined pleasure

“Yeah, I know baby” He captured his lip in between his teeth as he felt your walls suck him in.

The pleasure was unbearable. The coil snapping as your orgasm left your legs shaking and eyes rolling.

Eren soon followed after, finding the way you gravitated to him and the sounds that left your swollen lips so salacious he buried himself inside you, thick ropes of cum filling you to the brim as he lazily rocked his hips into yours and whispered fake promises into your ear.

Tiredness immediately took over you as he pulled out. Leaving no time for regret to seep in over the fact you had just cursed your future by allowing him to once again enter your life.

oh nd im backk໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[suguru-getos]

soft yandere satoru hcs:

a/n: hey, you guys should know i ship myself with him so there's no way i'd tolerate insane yandere satoru without ki!ling myself :P soooo- here's me making him a soft yan ^^

warnings: yandere behavior, mentions of arranged marriage troupe, stalkingtroupe, angry!sato ofc but he is still normal about it. mentions of fluff because it's satoru duh <33 also, this is one of the softest yandere hcs i've ever written *giggles*

yandere!satoru who saw you the first time in a jujutsu clan party hosted by your parents and how insignificant you truly were. to yourself, you had the best parents ever, they didn't push you into becoming a sorcerer, but to the kamo, zenin, and gojo clan members it was pure bullshit. wastage of proper sorcerer blood.

until yandere satoru met you for the first time and you hung out, the way he conversed was so different from someone who should be the strongest, someone who wields the highest powers in the whole world. someone who's birth shook the shackles of this world alone. he was kind, he sat next to you, non-judgemental even so he was weirdly wearing that damned blindfold.

he talked to you about your life, and about his own. pointing out the subtle and the not so subtle differences between the both of you. asking if you had a boyfriend. it was so subtle how could you think he had any other intention but to be your friend? naive and stupid.

things escalated real quickly when your mother told you that you were supposed to marry satoru gojo, oh my god- the clan head of the gojo clan, the ever so spoiled, esteemed entitled brat. you really couldn't say anything about this, but to hold your guns you decided to contact him. "you knew that this was happening?" you mumbled, watching him stir the coffee in front of you lazily. "of course, gosh you are so lucky little one!" he snickered, though the way he looks at you, it's hard to process what he's truly feeling inside. you are unaware of his stalking, how he knows your colleagues, how they are what they do, what they eat, how they breathe, to whom you are closer to, who likes you- what time do you get up, eat, what snack do you like, ghana roasted coffees over normal ones. though he would not admit to it.

there are a few times he has watched you sleep like a creep, just sitting next to you, just feeling the innate feeling of sharing the same bed as you. how cute you are, he often mumbles to himself. "i could crush you without even trying" as a musing criteria for how naive you are, how cute you are and how absolutely adorable you are. creepy-

to pretend that he is more than willing to let you take things your own way, he lets you plan dates. cute, adorable dates. one of the days you would be doing pottery with him, the other time it's an aquarium date where satoru doesn't know why you're so mesmerised when the real awe is you, the other time it was a planeterium and that's when satoru shows you his abilities for the first time, holding you closer to him like the princess you are and walking on sky, as if it's nothing, amid the full moon night. the other time it's you and him making tiaras in a garden, sometimes he would just randomly pull you closer, kissing your cheek while languishing in a movie together. so cute, so astonishingly cute! maybe marrying him is not a bad idea???

things show you their true form when you were on a date in a high-end restaurant, roof-top and fully booked. he's always been so cute with you, you had opened up and been comfortable enough. until a waiter decided to hit on you, before long- you found him choking on his own blood, despicable sight of him oozing out blood from his eyes, coughing and dying in front of you. "wh- what was that?" when you glance at satoru, he is emphasising the same lazy grin, smirking. "what. go on? smile back!" he muses, and when you're a teary-eyed mess, he presents himself with a carefully painted visage of guilt. "oh no no- baby i'm so sorry- i lost it, you make me lose it! i love you so much please no!"

would not let you have personal space after, forcing your parents to hasten the whole marriage thingy, he thinks you would leave him and that has him acting out of character. though he now knows fear is a powerful tool, even though he does not want to use it on his darling. sometimes he can't help it, especially when you act so fucking adamant and so fucking stubborn!!

"listen, princess, here's what's going to happen. daddy's going to be really cooperative if you come here and give him a hug, daddy does not want to be a meanie to his little girl. you know that right?" by being a 'meanie' he just means getting angry, manhandling you against the wall, seething in rage and bubbling hot with the insecurity of your behavior being the slightest of different.

the thing is satoru really, really loves you. the prospect of being a yandere is more 'dere' in him. however when the yandere shows? that's when you should truly fear the capabilities of this man. satoru hates this but he can sometimes use your triggers against you. don't like being tied up, maybe an empty threat would get you in line, after all, you refuse to listen when he wants to love you!

he's going to make sure your engagement ring has a location curse imbued into it, he wants to know 24x7 where his baby is. one time you lied to him that you are at work when you were actually in a colleague's party, you were greeted by the whole party avenue being destroyed to shreds, people bruised and only you knew it was your now husband, because he texted. 'infinity protects you princess, not others. next time think twice about lying to daddy.'

his behavior can get hot and cold instantly, one moment he is the most adorable man-child, loving you, playing with you... until he's ticked off and the real, no-nonsense monster comes out to meet you. a scathing frown with glowy eyes as he reminds you that you belong to the 'strongest'.

there are times he does use sex as a weapon, a weapon to make you give in. he is just so good at it, he is going to spoil you senseless, kissing every square inch of your body, worshipping you, crying with you when he mumbles apologies for being angry and mean at you, for scaring you, you don't deserve it, such a pretty baby, oh you take him so well. he was made for you, you are the strongest because you have him wrapped around your pinkie... only to show you the rage and insecurity and all of it when you come home late.

the only positivity you have, is he would rather kill himself than hurt you. that brings you peace, that brings a sense of stability and sensibility into you to hang onto the rope of your relationship a bit longer, clutching onto the fleeting hope of him changing...

[jojissalsa]

dunno who agrees, but leon would love cuddle fucking. (mdni, please)

was thinking abt this all night cause i always have a hard time sleeping without thinking of him. totally normal btw.

re2!leon would be so tired after every shift, being a rookie is tough work. even if it's just stupid ass reports he has to file or sitting in a police car for hours just watching people, he's just glad he can come back home to you. you're usually asleep by the time he gets back home from work, and it's like you knew what he would wanna do after he gets ready for bed. your arm stretched out, a nice, big space in front of you to slip into. and he does, and he just melts when you bring him closer, your hand rubbing lovingly at his waist. you whisper sweet nothings about how hard he works, how he should be easier on himself. it's all true, you just can't help but remind him that he deserves some time to himself as well. something to clear his mind and ease his stress before he goes insane from mundane paperwork. so he doesn't mind when your hand starts to wander slightly down, nails grazing under his sweats as his breathing starts to pick up. he buries his nose in the crook of your neck as he whines when your hand slips down his boxers, pulling his hard cock out and positioning him inside your soaked panties. he loves doing this, loves feeling how wet you are as he holds you oh so tight, the sound of skin slapping ever so softly as he fucks your thighs. your hands tangle themselves in his hair, moaning and murmuring about how good he is, how sweet of a boy he is, and you can feel him getting close. his cock kicks and presses perfectly against your clit, and it doesn't take long for him to cum inside your panties. "thank you baby, fuck, so good to me. you know how much i love you, right? love you more than anything.." he gets so sentimental, so frazzled after his high because he just needs you to know. that he loves you so, so much.

he would get a lot more confident the older he gets, i mean we all know how much of a cocky bastard he is. it's in his nature to be a smug piece of shit, not that you mind obviously. you're obsessed with him regardless. so when he finds you sleeping on the couch after waiting all night for him, he can't help but tease you about it when he carries you to the bedroom. you tug at his shirt when he sets you down, and he reassures you that he just needs to get ready for bed. the relief you feel when he finally slips into bed is unmatched, his hand finding it's usual place under your shirt and on your tit, making you whine softly. you grind your ass against his lap to try and hint at him that you want more, but he stops you. "sorry baby, not tonight. i'll make it up to you in the morning, doll." it satisfies you for now, cause you know he always keeps his word. so when you wake up the next morning with his thumb and index finger tugging at your nipple, hard cock pressing against your ass, you just smile and let him do all the work. "good morning sunshine, told you i'd make it up to you." you clench around nothing as he groans in your ear, his heavy breathes making it hard to think. you feel him pull your panties down, lifting your leg up slightly to slide his dick against your slit, slick coating his length almost instantly. his tip nudges against your clit, you gasp when he pushes inside you, stretching you out in the best way possible, tip kissing your cervix. he coos at you, every deep, long stroke coaxing out moans that get louder and louder. "i know, so fucking deep, huh? shhhh, just take it, honey." so you do, letting every bit of him completely take over your mind, your eyes rolling into the back of your head every time he bottoms out inside you. "there you go, atta girl." you always squeal and moan when he says that, and it only makes him more smug. "aww, does my princess like when i talk to her like that? so dirty, love it when you're like this. my sweet girl, loves every little thing i say or do." he takes your jaw in his free hand, making you look him in the eye, or try to as he starts to speed up. "isn't that right, baby? that pretty little head just thinks of me and me only?" yep, still just as smug. you have to nod and say yes just to get him to finally speed up, pounding into you with an unrelenting force. "gonna empty my balls in your pretty fuckin' pussy. c'mon baby, milk my cock, cum for me." the knot in your stomach snaps the second he commands you, body quivering with a force as your orgasm washes over you. his cock kicks inside you as he bottoms out as deep as he possibly can, his cum painting your walls white before slowly pulling out. he peppers kisses along your neck, letting you relax and fall limp in his arms as he comforts you, the both of you basking in the love you share. how sweet.

[fishsticksloser]

Just…talking this out.

I'd love to see a situation where Leo hangs out with a best friend of his and starts developing big feelings. He wouldn't know what these feelings were, testing simple things like hugs and hand holding with his other friend, April, to see if it's just an internal 'glitch' or something common.

Obviously, the reaction wouldn't work with April. Thus, he'd get to a point where he realizes he, of all people, is absolutely smitten with his best friend and begins unintentionally pursuing them (perhaps letting his hugs last a little longer than normal, kissing their knuckles occasionally in passing, leaning a tad bit closer to their face during each conversation…eventually to encase them against a wall on a rooftop, shielding them from the ongoing evening rain, finally and confidently uttering his confession).

Y'know…just…brain worms.

Close to You

Leo x gn!reader

Warnings: confessions, struggling with feelings, kissing, swearing

A/N: mmmm just brain worms? Let me eat them /silly.... Actually, can I use them to make a brain worm farm?

Something was off. He couldn't stop thinking about you. Your smile, your laugh, your touch. He often zoned out, thinking about you.

This is getting out of hand....

Sitting next to you, watching Jupiter Jim since you've never seen it. Feeling your arm brush his as you get comfortable, sparks flying over his skin. Leo glances at you, his heart pounding in his chest. He finds himself looking at your lips, wondering what they feel like against his.

He blinks, quickly looking away. People don't normally feel that way with friends, right?

He didn't understand what he was feeling. He decided to test it out. April. The perfect friend, always willing to help.

He definitely didn't explain or ask, but he knew if April knew it might skew results. Leo was getting scientific, something he didn't really understand. But it has to be done.

During a movie night you couldn't attend, he sat next to April, leaning against her and snuggling as he normally did with anyone he sat next to. Throughout the movie, his glances to her were seldom, mostly when she'd shift to get more comfortable or made a comment. Her arm bumped his and he felt nothing, he had no desire to get closer, no desire to touch her more.

That night he went to bed more confused, deciding to tell April about it later. Maybe she'd have some insight on what's going on with him. And of course she did.

Crush.

That was the simple word that echoed in his head as he went home.

Crush.

He shakes his head, trying to knock that one word out of his head.

There's no way...

꒦꒷⚔️꒷꒦

As time went on, he couldn't help himself. Leo would touch you, holding your hand, kissing your knuckles, cuddling with you during movie nights. He wanted to be close, he wanted to get closer.

He'd noticed your blush, the way you'd cover your face at times. It made him need it more. He had to see more.

When you two were alone in his room, he'd let you rest against him. Sitting between his legs, your back against his plastron. It became a norm. So did his fingers tracing over your skin.

You're so soft...

He nuzzles your jaw, making you tilt your head to the side. His heart pounds in his chest as he presses his beak to your neck.

You smell so good...

Eventually he decides he has to tell you. He can't do it anymore, he can't stand it. It itches, it's hard to not just spill it. Not blurt it out the moment he sees you.

꒦꒷⚔️꒷꒦

He had his jacket around you, your back pressed against his plastron. The pitter patter of rain, the feeling of the rain against his skin, the feeling of you in his embrace. Everything felt perfect.

Leo nuzzles your temple as you look over the city skyline. He sways slightly, his hands in the pockets of his jacket, his arms wrapped around you. He takes a deep breath, basking in the moment.

"You're so warm." You hum, pressing back against him more. He churrs softly, burying his beak in your hair. You tilt your head back, laying it on the top edge of his plastron. "This is quite the view..."

"Kinda romantic, huh?" He teases, chuffing into your hair. Leo hugs you a bit tighter, feeling nervousness seep in.

"Perfect for a little date." You muse back, reaching up to rub his arm comfortingly. You watch the cars on the street, basking in Leo's warmth.

"I... Really like being with you." He murmurs, moving his arms as you turn around to face him.

"Don't tell me you're getting all mushy." The teasing words have him blushing, playfully pushing you away.

"Me? Mushy?" Leo laughs, trying to hide the big grin on his face with an eyeroll. You laugh back, letting him pull you back against him. His laughter dies a little, but still smiling widely. "I'm serious though... I love being with you... I.... I've realized some things recently..."

You listen intently, seeing the nervousness written all of his face. His grip on our waist tightened a little, taking a deep breath.

"I... Have a massive fucking crush on you..." He whispers finally, closing his eyes as if he was scared of your reaction.

"Really?" You gasp, making him open his eyes. The look on your face, you weren't repulsed like he'd thought you would be. He couldn't help himself any longer, leaning down as he cupped your cheek.

"Really..." He chuffs, pressing his lips to yours, sealing the confession with a sweet kiss.

[barcaatthemoon]

she's with me || alessia russo x reader ||

alessia gets jealous when you befriend the new arsenal signing.

alessia's jaw was clenched as she watched you run around with the newest signee. you had been at arsenal for years, long enough to be the unofficial leader of the welcoming party. whenever alessia had signed, you had been the first one at the training grounds to let her into your group. it was customary for you to do with anybody who was new, but this time, alessia was taking it personally.

it wasn't your fault, not really. alessia wouldn't have even gotten upset if katie had unhelpfully pointed out your past relationship with the new player. alessia hadn't even known that the two of you had dated at first, but katie apparently knew all about it. in fact, she had told alessia everything that she could just to fuck with the tall blonde.

"less, babe, do you want to come out tonight with the rest of the girls?" you asked. there was a hopeful look on your face. alessia had been in a piss poor mood, especially around the rest of the girls. it was why you had, admittedly, been avoiding her. the two of you hadn't even been spending all of your normal alone time together because of alessia's behavior.

"of course i do, why wouldn't i?" alessia asked you. she seemed distracted, and you noticed how her gaze was still partially on your ex. it was nice to be friends with her again, despite how badly the relationship had ended. you wanted to explain to alessia that you'd never in a million years get back together with the other girl, but you doubted that alessia would have listened to you.

alessia liked to claim that she was above getting jealous, but you knew different. in fact, the more that you thought about alessia's recent behavior and your newly rekindled friendship with arsenal's new girl, you realized that alessia was jealous. she had been jealous, but instead of saying something and communicating, she had decided to throw a big, stupid tantrum.

"well, with the way you've been lately, i wasn't sure. i thought i'd check. if you weren't going to go, i was just gonna let em give me a ride." you knew that it was wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. riling alessia up was just too easy, and it must have been an irish trait to love doing it because you were sure that katie was at the root of this problem. she had been the only one on the team to know just how mad you had been for your ex.

…

"damn, if they get any closer, i think we'll get kicked out." alessia's face set into a frown as she looked over to where leah was pointing. there was a group of girls dancing with you, but alessia's eyes zeroed in on the way that your ex held onto your waist. it was far more tame than how katie was grabbing your body as she ground your ass against her hips, but alessia didn't care.

"i should go get her," alessia said. she tried to get up, only to be held back by sab and lotte. "they'll give someone the wrong idea dancing like that. i don't want anybody to think (y/n) and emily are together."

"emily isn't the problem. foord, go get your girlfriend!" leah called out. with katie being pulled away, alessia's attention was forced onto the only person touching you still. she sat there with leah keeping her down for an agonizingly long time. alessia was glad when the song ended and you came over to the table for a drink break.

"less, baby, are you okay?" you asked as you sat down in her lap. she didn't answer you, instead opting to pull you by your hair into a kiss. she knew just where to grab to get you moaning and whining into her mouth. it was a big show, one that had leah pushing the two of you out of the club. "what was that about? i'll tell katie to tone it down next time."

"better yet, tell that other girl to keep her hands off of you. you're mine now. she had her chance, and she blew it. not my fault that your taste improved with age," alessia said. she had never sounded so cocky before. normally, that sort of thing was a huge turn-off for you, but with alessia, you found yourself loving it.

"calm down, like you said, i'm yours now. you don't have to get aggressive with her, okay?" you placed your hand on alessia's chest as the two of you stood outside. she nodded as she took your hand in hers, but that didn't change the look in her eyes as she looked at you.

alessia looked at you like you were going to be her last meal. the intensity of her gaze didn't falter once on the way home. if anything, it seemed to grow in intensity as the two of you got closer to her place. you thought that alessia's stare was going to melt your clothes off by the time that you were walking through the front door.

"get back to the bedroom, i'll be there in a minute," alessia ordered you. there was a moment when you hesitated, prompting alessia to slap your ass as she turned you towards the hallway. you walked forward, cheeks burning red as you did. alessia followed you in a couple of moments later, dropping a couple of water bottles on the bedside table as she made her way over to you.

"are you going to get the strap?" you asked. alessia shook her head as she started to strip out of her clothing. you swallowed thickly as her body was revealed to you, something that never ceased to amaze you. "fuck, less."

"come here and turn around," alessia ordered. she was being very demanding, which you normally would have had a bit of a problem with. instead, you found yourself almost giddy about the way that she was telling you what to do. "your ass looks amazing in this skirt."

"thank you baby," you told her. she placed a gentle hand on your back, pushing the bottom of your crop top as she did. "you looked hot tonight. i wished you would have danced with me."

"this is much better than a dance, i promise. i'm going to make you feel so good, just relax." alessia placed a kiss to the small of your back. you were sure that she could feel how wet you were if she leaned in a little more, but alessia was careful to keep her distance. "can i touch you? i want to have a taste of what's mine."

"fuck less, you can always touch me," you told her. alessia smiled as she pushed your skirt up completely. she kept you bent over as she moved your thong to the side. the hand that had been on your back had moved down to caress your ass as alessia ran her tongue through your folds.

alessia moaned at the taste of you on her tongue. she lapped at your cunt, just trying to make you as much of a mess as she could. alessia didn't care about making you cum quickly, she wanted to tease you long enough to have you dripping down her face. alessia needed the satisfaction of knowing that she could have you coming completely undone on a whim.

"you taste so good," alessia told you as she brushed her thumb against your clit. "makes me clench my thighs to think about sometimes."

"y-you think about me like that?" you don't know why it surprised you so much to hear that. alessia was definitely not as innocent as leah and beth had you believing, but the idea of her thinking of fucking you spun you for a loop.

"all of the time, but i haven't gotten to touch you like this in a while. you've been running away from me because of your new little friend, but i doubted that she ever had you dripping like this. you're making such a mess on my fingers, one that i can't wait to clean up. i swear that i could cum at just the taste of you," alessia said. each one of her words had your stomach clenching. you were so close, but alessia was constantly giving you just enough not to cum.

"lessi, if i beg, will you let me cum?" you asked her. alessia leaned down and bit your ass cheek, causing you to squeal a little.

"you can cum whenever you want once you tell me that you love me." alessia had never been one to withhold your orgasms like that. the two of you had tried edging, but alessia's resolve had broken the moment she noticed tears forming in the corners of your eyes. you weren't on the verge of tears, but you knew that much more teasing would bring you there.

"i love you, alessia. i love you so much that it hurts me sometimes," you told her. alessia stood up and slid two fingers inside of you, pushing her hips in for a little added force. alessia gave you a couple of straight thrusts before she started to curl her fingers inside of you. "less."

"it's okay, i know baby. let it happen. i'll give you whatever you want after. doesn't that sound nice baby? just relax and cum for me," alessia cooed. her voice was soft, much softer than it had been all night. you felt yourself relax as your alessia seemed to be coming back to you.

your orgasm took your legs out from beneath you, but alessia was there to make sure you didn't faceplant on the mattress. she laid you down on the bed and moved to lay behind you. you felt her open up your legs before she started to clean you up. your body jerked and jolted a little, but alessia kept you pinned down.

"i know you're sensitive, but this is important," alessia reminded you. she took care of you, even if you didn't always it. alessia guided you into a seated position for you to drink one of the waters she had brought up. it had been sitting out of the fridge just enough to be deemed "drinkable" by you.

"you know that i do love you, right? you don't have to hold my orgasms over my head to hear it," you said as you shoved her shoulder. alessia nodded sheepishly, having felt a little guilty about it after the words had left her mouth.

"yeah, i know that you love me, and i love you too. it's just been messing with me pretty bad having your ex here, and katie won't stop reminding me about it. it's infuriating, and everything kind of got away from me," alessia ranted. you pulled her into your arms and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "i'm sorry if i've been a bitch."

"you have, but it's okay. i guess you can't be a total sweetheart all the time," you joked. alessia seemed to be glad that you weren't holding her behavior over the past couple of weeks over her head because now that she was back in your arms properly, she felt a bit ridiculous about being jealous in the first place.