#especially since i can talk for hours straight without shutting up

[lampochkaart]

Finaly had time to properly admire the gift from my friend

She literally decided "you like danganronpa? i'll give you A WHOLE BOX of danganronpa!" and I couldn't be happier💘

[hintsofhoney]

Ladies With Experience

Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When Dean makes an off-handed comment about "preferring ladies with experience", you try (and fail) to not let it get under your skin. You're a virgin, but you've done just about everything else, and when you talk to Dean about it, he offers to be your first. He's your best friend, and you've been in love with him forever... who are you to deny him?

Tags: smut, first time, virgin!reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom!dean, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, fingering, not-so-innocent reader

Word Count: 5k

A/N: As always, thank you to my loves @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing. Would be nowhere without you two 🥰

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“Anyways, let’s say you’re right, fine. Who would want virgins?”

You know Sam didn’t mean it like that , and you felt stupid for letting it bother you. For letting this case bother you.

“You got me,” Dean replied with a shrug. “I prefer ladies with experience.” 

And there it was, like a punch straight to the gut. You hated that it hurt you as much as it did. So what, you’ve never had sex. But you’ve done almost everything else. You knew what you liked and what you didn't. You’ve been around the block a few times with the various sex toys in your nightstand drawer. It’s not like you weren’t experienced at all . But that didn’t make Dean’s words hurt any less. You swallowed down the burger and fries from lunch that were threatening to come up, before standing up from your seat at the small motel room table. 

The brothers looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“I — bathroom,” you managed, before quickly making your way there, slamming the door shut behind you. 

Staring at your reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror, you let the tears fall. Silently, you wiped them away as Dean’s words echoed in your head, and you hated that you loved him. Hated that you’d never be ballsy enough to admit it to him, especially now.

Something like five minutes passed and you knew you didn’t have long before one of the boys — likely Sam — would come knocking to check on you. You flushed the unused toilet so they wouldn’t suspect anything and turned on the faucet, splashing your tear-soaked face with cold water before using a hand towel to wipe it dry. When you emerged, the guys were packing up their duffels.

“Did you find them?” you asked, hopeful.

Dean checked his gun, before flipping the safety on and stuffing it in the back waistband of his jeans. 

“I sure as hell hope so, ‘cause if I’m about to crawl through the goddamn sewers for nothing —”

“They’re down there, Dean,” Sam replied, giving him a pointed look. He turned his attention to you, and if he had noticed anything off, he hadn’t let his face show it. “You coming?”

You grabbed your gun off the dresser and holstered it in reply.

Six hours later, the three of you were sweaty, panting, and splattered in blood after a close fight with dragons in the sewers. Thankfully, you hadn’t had to wade in any actual sewage. You hadn’t said a word to either brother since you had gone to the bathroom six hours ago, and to keep them from growing suspicious of your sudden silence, you opted to take a nap in the backseat of the Impala on the way back to the motel. 

You stirred awake as Dean pulled into the parking lot, barely conscious enough to catch the end of the brothers’ conversation.

“I’ll get her,” Dean said. 

Sam nodded and got out of the car, gently closing the passenger side door before heading inside. 

You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the sleep in them as Dean’s face came into focus. He was looking at you over his shoulder, one arm resting on the top of the front bench seat. 

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

It took a moment for the feeling you had been filled with prior to your nap to come back to you, his words from earlier echoing in your head. I prefer ladies with experience . You shot him a cold glare.

“Alright. What’d I do?” he asked, turning in his seat to better angle himself towards you. 

The question caught you off guard.

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

“You haven’t said a word since we left for that hunt, Y/N.”

“How do you know Sam didn’t do something?”

He replied with a knowing look.

You stared at your hands, clasped together in your lap, and muttered, “It’s nothing. Stupid.”

“C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.

You hated this. How easy he was to talk to. How you had always been able to tell him what was on your mind.

But not this . You couldn’t tell him this. 

You shook your head. 

“Hey,” he said softly, shifting in his seat. He was fully turned around now, reaching out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at those green eyes. “Talk to me,” he repeated, no room for argument in his words.

“I can’t,” you whispered. You wanted to throw up. He was your best friend, and you were utterly, irrevocably, head-over-heels in love with him. He preferred girls with experience, and you had none. Not in the way that it mattered. And he had known that, thanks to a late-night stake-out game of Never Have I Ever . 

His jaw clenched. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

You briefly met his gaze. You couldn’t hold it for long. 

“Was it something I said?” he prodded. 

You stared at the buttons of his open flannel, your eyes quickly darting up to meet his in silent confirmation. 

He sighed, pulling his hand away from your face and folding his arms on top of the backseat, resting his chin on his forearm.

“Do I at least get a hint?”

“Dean, I —”

“C’mon, Y/N. You’ve never not told me anything.”

“Why are you pushing this?”

“Because I can’t stand not talking to you.”

Your heart leaped at that confession, however innocent it might have been. 

“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

“Because I’m making you. You would have silent treatmented me into next week.”

You didn’t respond.

He sighed again, defeated. “Y/N, c’mon. Please? Whatever I said, I’m sorry. I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t mean that you ‘prefer girls with experience’?” you retorted quite sassily. The question tumbled out before you even had time to think of the implication that came with asking it. 

Dean opened and closed his mouth like a damn fish. 

“Thought so.” You began to move to make your way out of the car, when Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist.

“No,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s okay if you do. I told you, it was a dumb thing to be upset about.”

“No, it’s not. I didn’t stop to think about how this case might have been affecting you. You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?” 

You swallowed, nodded. His hand felt like fire around your wrist.

“But for what it’s worth, I wasn’t serious. I don’t prefer anyone one way or the other. Sex is sex. If anyone’s willing to have it with me, I consider myself lucky.”

“Romantic,” you quipped.

A smile tugged at his lips. “I could show you, y’know.”

You almost threw up right there in the backseat. Your eyes grew wide.

“What?” you croaked.

“Well, if you’re worried about not having any experience… I just mean I’d be happy to, y’know. Show you the ropes.”

“… Of sex?” Really, you thought it was cute that he had this misconception of you. You knew about the ropes. You’d just never been tied up with them. 

“Of whatever you want.”

“You think I want to have sex with you?” It came out harsher than you meant it to, like part of you still thought you could hide the fact that you were in love with him. Like if you just joked it off it would go away, and you wouldn’t have to cross this line with him, even though you so badly wanted to. But you had to protect yourself, your heart. 

You didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes.

“No, that’s not what I —”

You suddenly felt the need to clarify your question.

“No, I — I didn’t mean it like that either.”

Dean’s face morphed into one of confusion. “…So you do want to have sex with me?”

Your cheeks flushed red, and your throat bobbed. “Uh…”

“Forget it, stupid question, you don’t have to an—” 

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Fuck it. Who were you to hold yourself back from the one thing you’ve been wanting for years? You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I really, really do.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Seriously?”

“Oh, cut the shit, Dean. Like you’re surprised. Everyone wants to have sex with you.”

He scoffed. “ Everyone , Y/N, really?”

“There are literally smutty fanfictions written about you,” you replied, reaching into your back pocket for your phone, dead set on proving your point. 

“Gross. And Becky doesn’t count as everyone.”

“Actually, Becky only writes for Sam.”

You realized what you said at the same time he did, and he eyed you suspiciously.

“Why do you know that?”

God dammit. “I don’t. I mean — I — like, she obviously loves Sam. So, like, she wouldn’t write porn about you. Obviously.”

“Uh huh…” There was an uncomfortable silence for a beat or three. And then, “How much smut have you read about me?”

Your face felt like it had just been rinsed with fucking lava, and you knew it probably looked as red as it, too. 

“None!” you exclaimed, way too quickly. 

Dean smirked. “You do really wanna have sex with me,” he remarked, like he couldn’t believe it.

“Trust me, the urge is fading by the second.”

His grin disappeared almost instantly. “Would it help if I told you that I think about fucking you all the time, too?”

“Well, I don’t think about it all the —”

“Y/N.” He said your name like a warning, and the tone of his voice settled right in your core. 

“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Yeah, that helps.”

“Good,” he smirked, before grabbing his phone from beside him. 

“Uh… What are you doing?” You watched as he scrolled for a second, pressing a button before putting the phone to his ear.

“Telling Sammy to beat it.”

Your eyes grew wide. “What!?” you whisper-yelled. “No! Just — we can just do it back here!”

He gave you a pointed look. “I’m not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car, Y/N.”

“Why not!?”

“Because we’re not sixteen, for one. And for two… I wanna make it special.” He rushed the last bit out, like he was embarrassed to say it. And he should be. You cringed as you heard it. 

“Oh my God,” you began.

“Shut up.”

“You did not just say that.”

“Shut up. Sam, answer your phone, God dammit!”

“I have done, like, almost everything else, you know. In the backseats of many, many cars. You don’t need to make it special for me, Deano,” you teased. 

“For the last time, shut your mouth, or I’m gonna shut it for you,” he said, the look he gave letting you know he wasn’t in the mood to play. No, he wanted to fuck you. Beyond that, he wanted to dominate you. And you were more than happy to submit.

You might have been a virgin physically, but mentally? Mentally, you’d probably give Dean a run for his money. 

Sam didn’t answer. Naturally. He was probably in the shower, but you were kind of grateful because as much as you wanted Dean, you didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable. Or worse, give him any reason to give you the talk . Because he totally would. After trying his brother two more times, Dean decided it would be better to just get a room of your own, and you were much happier with that decision. 

You watched as he unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for you to go ahead. 

“Ladies first.”

“You mean you’re not gonna carry me over the threshold?” you joked. “Thought you wanted to make this special .”

He gave you an unamused look, and you shot back a sarcastic closed-mouth smile before you were being swept off of your feet and over his shoulder faster than you could process.

“Dean!” you squealed, as he carried you through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him before practically throwing you onto the bed.

He was hovering over you seconds later, his face a few inches from yours, and the mood shifted from playful to serious.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

You nodded, your fingers coming up to play with the collar of his flannel.

“If I tell you something, you promise you won’t make fun of me?” you questioned, your eyes glued to the plaid pattern on his shirt.

“Promise.”

“I was kinda… holding out for you.” You drew your eyes up to meet his.

“Seriously?” he asked, half laughing. You could tell it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. It was because he couldn’t believe it.

You swallowed nervously, nodding again as you stared into those green eyes, and you hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to you. Something told you it did.

“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he said.

You tilted your head in question.

“About making it special for you. I know it’s like, the grossest thing I could have possibly said but, you deserve so much better than me, and so if —”

“There’s no one better for me, you idiot.” And you almost told him everything. That you’ve been in love with him ever since you met one summer at Bobby’s, back when you were just kids. That everything felt like it led up to this moment. That you wanted him to fuck you and make love to you all at once. That you didn’t want this to be the only time he did. But instead, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting in a kiss that felt like it could have powered an entire country’s electric grid. 

He deepened it, and the two of you were nothing but tongues and teeth and lips — it wasn’t sexy. It was hungry. Starved, more like. Like he had been thinking about kissing you just as long as you had been thinking about him. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his hips down towards your denim-covered core, down until you felt the hardness underneath his jeans pressed up against the spot where you needed him most, down until you couldn’t help but grind against it. He moaned as he kissed you, so you did it again. And again. And again. And —

“You need to stop that.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. You noticed that your arms were above your head, his hands pinning your wrists against the mattress. You don’t know when that happened, but you weren’t complaining. In fact, it spurred you on. 

You smiled mischievously and rutted against him once more. 

“What’re you gonna do about it, Winchester?”

He dropped his forehead to yours, steadying his breaths.

“I can fuck you like it’s your first time, or I can fuck you how I actually want to.”

“And how’s that?”

He took a shaky breath, like he was actually having a hard time controlling himself. You felt a sense of pride shoot through you at that.

“Like the fucking brat you are.”

You almost came from that alone. 

Wanna know some common misconceptions about virgins? That they don’t have kinks. That they don’t watch porn. That they don’t have a plethora of sex toys  in their nightstand. That they sit and crochet in their convent dorm room all day. Sure, you were years past the age when girls typically lose their virginity, but you were no saint. In fact, you enjoyed being quite the opposite. And you enjoyed being put in your place. 

“Do your worst.”

It was like something in him snapped. His eyes were lust-blown and hungry and you didn’t miss the way his jaw ticked, and then he was undressing you so fast that you could’ve been part of a quick change act. He muttered something about a light system as he took off your clothes, and you nodded in a way that let him know that you already knew how all of that worked. 

When you were down to just a black lace bra and panties, he paused as his fingers hooked under your waistband. He stared at you, his expression serious, and you knew that he was going to give you one more warning. One more opportunity to say, “Actually, I’d like to have a totally normal, non-kinky, first time experience, please.” But that wasn’t what you wanted. 

“You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

You rolled your eyes. “I trust you. Put me in my goddamn place, Winchester. You’ve only been wanting to do it for the past two hours.”

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to do it for a lot longer than that, sweetheart.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, huffing a small laugh before pulling off your panties in one swift motion. His hands came to rest on your bare thighs as he locked his eyes with yours. “Any hard limits?”

You shook your head. “I trust you. I mean, like, don’t pee on me or —”

“Not gonna happen. But… most everything else?”

“Dean,” you began, looking at him pointedly, “I trust you. If it helps, I’ve used like, toys on myself before. And I don’t mean just a vibrator, I mean like… well, you get the gist.”

“So I don’t have to go easy on you, is what you’re saying?”

“Put me in my place,” you repeated.

“Alright,” he replied, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs as he roughly pushed them apart, “but just so we’re clear, that’s the last order you’ll be giving tonight.”

Your throat bobbed and you nodded. “Yes, Sir.” 

You meant it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. No, the title came out in a way that made his jaw clench and his eyes darken and it stoked the fire raging in your core. 

Dean didn’t waste any more time talking after that, his tongue moving through your folds seconds later, drawing gasps and soft moans from your lips. You arched into him, your hands in his hair, silently begging for more. It wasn’t the first time a man had gone down on you, but it was the first time it felt like this . 

He pinned your hips down to the bed with one hand splayed over your abdomen and then his tongue was inside you and “eating you out” didn’t come close to describing his ministrations. He was devouring you like his life depended on it, like the sounds you were making were a goddamn Zeppelin song that he wasn’t anywhere near done listening to. And then he added a finger, and then another, and it didn’t matter how many times you had imagined him doing this while you had your own fingers inside you — nothing would have prepared you for how good the real thing felt.

“Oh — fuck,” you gasped, and he chuckled into your sex and you had to actively think about not coming on his face and ending this whole experience early. 

“You’re close,” he observed, flicking his tongue over your clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, and it was so fucking hot how he just knew that. It was like he had been fucking you for years, the way he knew your body, your tells.

You nodded. “Mmhm,” you confirmed, unable to form words with the way the coil in your abdomen was tightening. 

“Hold it,” he ordered.

Your eyes shot open, because it wasn’t the command you were expecting, and you tried to lift your head to shoot him a cold glare but you couldn’t. And he just kept pumping, flicking, licking, chuckling — fucking asshole.

“Mm — fuck — please!” you cried out.

“When you come tonight, it’s gonna be on my cock. So hold it.”

You didn’t think you could. You had played this game with yourself and your vibrator and your self-control was majorly lacking and God his mouth and fingers felt so fucking good and you were there, the coil wound so goddamn tight, it would take nothing for you to let it snap, and then — 

He stopped.

He pulled his mouth away from your core, his fingers out of your pussy, and you were writhing underneath him, because you had been right there and you needed him to be touching you again right the fuck now.

You whined.

He spanked your pussy. Not hard or anything, just enough to see if it was okay with you, and fuck, was it. 

“Stop whining,” he demanded. He positioned himself so he was hovering over you again, his face inches away from yours as he stared into your eyes. “Or I’ll give you something to whine about.”

You were curious as to what that something would be, but sensed that right now wouldn’t be the best time for that question. You nodded instead.

“Good girl.” He smiled when he said it, like he knew exactly what those two words would do to you. 

You squirmed underneath him, it had been too long since he’d last touched you. Too long being thirty seconds at most, but still. It had felt like hours.

“Has anyone ever told you,” he began, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on your collarbone, “that you are very,” another kiss to the other side, “very,” one more to the middle of your chest, “impatient?” He slowly pulled down the left cup of your bra, your breast spilling out of it. “Makes me wanna take my time.” 

His eyes stayed glued to yours as his head moved down to your hardened nipple, taking it into his mouth at a goddamn snail’s pace. You arched your back, and he let you this time, chuckling at how easy it was to make your body react. His other hand slipped underneath you, unclasping your bra in a way that reminded you that he had a lot of experience doing so, and you refused to water the seed of jealousy that had sprouted from the thought. It didn’t matter that he had done this a million times. All that mattered was that he was doing it now, with you. 

He pulled your bra off and threw it haphazardly over his shoulder, and you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were completely naked, and he still had 87 fucking layers on, the outermost of which was still speckled with dragon blood, and it’s not that you were anywhere near clean, but you certainly didn’t want those clothes touching your bare skin.

“Dean?” you rasped, and he pulled away from your nipple to give you his full attention.

“You okay, sweetheart? Do you want to st—”

“No! God, no. It’s just —” you sighed, exasperated. This was dumb. You were going to stop him for this? Your eyes landed on a spot of blood on the shoulder of his flannel. Yes, yes you were, because that’s gross. “It’s just that your clothes are covered in monster blood and I’m like, totally naked, and I don’t want —”

He chuckled like you were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen. “I gotchya, baby.”

Baby. Baby ? You tried not to overthink the pet name as he climbed off the bed to take his clothes off, watching you the entire time. Sweetheart, you’d been called a million times. He called everyone sweetheart. But baby? Baby was his car, and no one else. Unless, that’s what you were to him now. His, and no one else’s. You filed the thought away under “Things to Think About After You Lost Your Virginity to Dean Winchester”.

He was in nothing but his boxers now, his cock already hard underneath them, and you bit your lip as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband and slid them off. And then, there he was, exactly like you’d imagined him but also better, because this was real and happening. You gaped at him, at his size. He wasn’t any bigger than the fake one you had in your nightstand, but that one was nine inches and you could never fit it all the way in. He was perfect. All of him. 

“You okay?” he asked again, crawling back onto the bed.

“Mhm,” you managed, gulping.

He was on top of you again, his forearm holding up his weight as his free hand came to grab your thigh, hooking it over his hip and leaning down to kiss you. You could feel him against your core, his cock moving between your folds as he moved his hips, teasing you with it. 

“Dean,” you breathed.

“Hm?”

“I want…” you couldn’t find it in yourself to finish your request.

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered.

You decided you liked “baby” better. 

“Please.”

“I thought you wanted me to put you in your place?”

You shook your head. “N-next time. Just, please .”

His eyebrows shot up, and you realized what you had said. 

“Next time, huh?” he asked, with that shit-eating grin of his. 

You rolled your eyes. He stopped moving, the smile wiped off his lips as he gripped you underneath your chin, somewhere between rough and gentle, the look on his face telling you he wasn’t messing around. 

“Roll your eyes at me again, and next time I’ll really do my worst.”

You bit back a smile, and you just knew he was thinking, Brat. But you asked your question anyway.

“But not this time?” There was a devilish gleam in your eyes. You were tempting him, and he knew it.

“Do you ever get tired of being such a brat?” 

“Dunno,” you shrugged. “Do you ever get tired of it?” 

His jaw tensed, and he forced a sardonic, closed-lip smile. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Hm. But not this time, right?”

“Y/N —” he warned.

“Afraid you’re gonna hurt me? Scare me? What’s really keeping you from putting me in my place… Sir?”

For the second time that night, something in him snapped. You yelped as he flipped you over and grabbed your hips, dragging them upwards so your ass was in the air and your chest was on the mattress. Four hits to your cheeks came down in quick succession, and when you reached your hand behind you to block them, it was quickly pinned to the small of your back. Three more hits followed, accompanied by a pathetic, “Ow!” from your lips.

“Color?” he questioned roughly.

“So fucking green,” you replied, dazed.

Seven more hits followed, each one harder than the last, and you didn’t think there was anything better than the sting you were feeling right now. There was nothing more you wanted than for him to mark you up like this.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he commented. Five more hits. 

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out at the last hit, one that felt like it reverberated through your entire body. One that definitely left a handprint behind. 

“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. He spanked you four more times. “You just wanted me to mark you up, is that it? Think of me every time you sit down for the next few days, hm?” Three more. 

“Mmph!” Your cries were muffled by the comforter. 

“Yeah, I can tell. Look at this fucking mess.” He dragged his fingers through your soaked folds. “Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath, and then he was flipping you back over. He nestled himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathily. 

He slid into you slow and easy, your mouth open in a silent moan as he bottomed out. 

“Good?” he asked.

“So fucking good.”

When he started to move, you thought you were going to die. In a good way. In a way that made you decide right there and then that when the time did come, this was how you wanted to go out. 

“Harder,” you encouraged, and he obliged. “Faster.”

He was properly fucking you now. Hard and fast and dirty. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, forcing him to go deeper. His head was buried in your neck, your nails were clawing up his back, and the room was filled with moans and pants and expletives that put a sailor’s mouth to shame. 

“Shit, baby,” he panted into your neck. “God damn, you feel good. So fucking tight.” He sped up his thrusts, and the bed was squeaking so much that you thought it was going to fall apart underneath you, but you were too far gone to care. He reached a hand down in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, circling it expertly. You were on the precipice of your release in seconds. And then —

“Come. Soak that fucking cock, baby. Come for me.”

And you screamed loud enough to get both you and him kicked out of the motel if they cared enough as your orgasm ripped through you. He fucked you through it, his pace only faltering moments later, right before he pulled out and painted your stomach white. It looked like a Jackson Pollock on your abdomen. Kinda hot, actually. 

“You okay?” Dean asked, looking down at you as he finally caught his breath.

“More than,” you smiled.

He mirrored the look on your face before crawling off the bed and heading to the bathroom. He came back moments later with a damp washcloth, gently cleaning his masterpiece off of your skin. When he was done, he threw it across the room, aiming for the bathroom, and it landed on the tile in front of the toilet. He laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest as he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you wanted to ask so many questions, all at once. What were you two now? How long had he been wanting this? Would there be a next time? Instead, you opted for —

“You know in fanfictions, they write you as a submissive most of the time.”

He snorted. “They’re half right.”

“A switch?” you asked, surprised. “Lucky me.”

He chuckled softly. “Sorry about your ass.”

You shrugged. “I was asking for it.”

“Oh, you were definitely asking for it. Still, I… I dunno. It was your first time, I didn’t want to get too —”

“It was perfect, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, smiling, dozing off already. “Yeah.”

[3dmanswhore]

do you? | k. bakugou

3.2k words

content: nsfw, mdni, aged up characters, fem!reader, established (ex) relationship, friends w benefits, fluffy smut, unprotected sex, unedited & lowkey badly written

tbh didn’t even plan on writing this as smut but it just kind of turned into it as i kept writing it 💀, might have to go on another 2+ year hiatus over the embarrassment

other than fucking with no strings attached, Katsuki and i hadn’t seen each other much since our last year at UA. especially at ungodly hours such as right now.

when he would sneak into my dorm after a big fight, silently cuddling up to my half-asleep figure. i would mindlessly stroke his hair and fall back asleep, sometimes waking up to him, or just after he had left.

but here he was now.

at 3am, in my apartment.

only having had the key to unlock the place because i gave it to him for the sake of convenience. for when he calls on me in the middle of a drunken night.

he’s standing at the foot of my bed and staring straight at me, the lit up screen of his phone which he used as a flashlight illuminating his tired features in the dark.

“the fuck are you starin’ at”, he says in his usual bitter tone.

i grimace at him, “the fuck are you doin’ here?”, i say in a slightly softer tone, only because i was too tired to try to outmatch him in a field he was far too experienced in: yelling.

“what do you think?”, he says matter-of-factly. and while i usually don’t mind the booty calls. in fact, sometimes i even seek them out, i’m definitely not up for it right now. not without warning, at least.

i groan as i prop myself up on my elbows, “the hell is wrong with you? i told you i’m not fucking you unannounced, especially not when you just let yourself into my apartment.”

he lets out an annoyed groan, pulling his phone up to his face as he starts to vigorously type on it.

a few seconds later, i hear a ping from my own phone. picking it up, i see the far too familiar text message pop up as a notification: i’m coming over.

“you’re already over, dumbass”, i groan as i scoot to the far end of the bed, making space for him.

he shuts his phone off, laying it down next to my own one.

he takes his shirt off, flinging it to some dark corner of my room.

he gets into bed, his hand brushing against my shoulder as he pulls the sheets over us both.

and he…

turns around?

his back facing me?

my eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “what the fuck are you doing?”, i ask in a slightly raised whisper.

without even turning around to face me, he answers, slightly muffled as he talks into the pillow. “what the fuck does it look like?”

“i have no idea”, i answer honestly, “did you seriously just come here for a sleepover?”

i hear him shuffle in the dark as he turns around to look at me, propped up on his elbow as he glares down at me. “you just said you didn’t wanna fuck. i’m tryna sleep”, he looks at me expectantly, as if waiting for a nod of approval before he can go back to sleeping.

“is this like reverse psychology? you think i’m gonna wanna fuck if you suddenly don’t?”, i’m still confused on why he even came over.

he tsks in response, flinging my forehead, “you think you’re all that”, he says harshly but i can sense a playful undertone in the words. “i can’t fall asleep in an empty bed, you should know that from our failed relationship.”

i stayed silent and he turned to lie on his back, facing the ceiling with his hands clasped over his bare chest. his eyes were open but he didn’t say a word, just steadily breathed as he waited for a response from me.

“i didn’t know that”, i said softly as i adjusted my position, scooting a bit closer to him as my face was now mere inches from his shoulder.

he hummed as he kept blinking at the ceiling. “why do you think i always came back to you”, he said just above a whisper, as if he didn’t even want me to hear it.

“well, i would like to think it’s due to how amazing of a girlfriend i was”, i said sarcastically as i copied his posture, studying the ceiling with him as if we were stargazing.

he snorted sarcastically, which admittedly, slightly hurt.

“what was that for!? i wasn’t that bad”, i said in disbelief, sitting up slightly as i stared at him with a shocked expression.

he side-eyed me, and i could almost notice a smirk playing on his features. “you were fuckin’ psycho, y/n”

i hit his chest, rolling my eyes as i laid back down, accidentally resting my head on his shoulder.

i thought he might shrug me off, but instead he extended his arm around me.

we were now cuddling.

i can’t remember us cuddling much even when we dated.

he said he hated the unnecessary heat coming from my body, though i would always wake up to him spooning me, or squeezing me to near death like i was his plushy.

“i was only psycho because you gave me reasons to be”, i retorted, knowing it was only partly true.

it’s true that, in my reckless and hormonal teenage-hood, i could be extremely jealous and possessive. but he could have worked out less, or gotten a bad haircut, or done something to get the girls to stop fawning over him.

the only thing that pushed away the flocks was his shitty attitude, but i’m sure some were even more turned on by it.

“despite your beliefs, i never cheated on you once”, i know he didn’t. “hell, i never even looked at another girl besides you”, he must have meant ‘while we were together’, but i guess it was common sense that didn’t need to be specified.

still, it made my heart churn: the possibility that i was the only one who managed to capture his attention, ever.

the idea gave me a disgusting sense of importance. one so suffocating it might throw me into old habits of trying to get his approval at all costs.

instead of saying something that would ruin the moment and push him away, i hummed in response as i turned to wrap around his warm, and slightly sweaty torso.

thankfully, because of his quirk, he never smelled bad. if anything, i think the sweet-scented sweat made him just that much more intoxicating.

the hand he had wrapped around me rubbed soothing circles into my shoulder, and i could tell by his quickening heartbeat and uneven breath, that even the great Katsuki was capable of feeling nervous.

“i miss this”, he says softly, and i’m sure it is a sentence he will regret muttering in the morning — when he’s not affected by the drowsiness and hypnagogia.

my heart skips a beat as i continue tracing the lines of his muscles, “you do?” is all i can say to not reveal my own feelings on the matter.

“do you?”, he asks instantly, so much so i’m not even sure he meant to say it aloud.

he grabs my tracing hand with his free one, bringing it up to his face as he kisses at my palm, and each section of each finger, the kisses becoming more hungry as he digs his face into my touch like an abandoned hound.

i can only utter his name, my voice shaky as i mindlessly inch my face closer to his.

his usually angry eyes almost look like they are pleading now.

his arm has now moved to my waist as he tries to pull me closer, our chests touching not being enough.

his other hand moves to the back of my neck as he pushes my face down on his. he hungrily nips at my lips, and if i wasn’t so used to his touch i would think he was trying to devour me whole.

we hadn’t kissed like this in such a long time. even during this weird arrangement of ours that had been going on for months, we’d only lock our lips for the sake of muffling the moans and gasps.

as he pulled me in even closer, my shirt now having ridden up almost completely — my chest the only thing stopping it in place, i was now straddling him as he moved his hand to somewhere more interesting than my bare waist.

he squeezed my ass and i let out a gasp to which he only deepened the kiss, stealing the air from my lungs.

i wasn’t sure whether i was feeling lightheaded because he was so inebriating or because of the lack of oxygen going to my brain.

but my judgment was clouded, that was for sure.

i didn’t even want to think of what would happen between us in the morning. perhaps he really was just using psychological tricks to get me to sleep with him tonight. i definitely wouldn’t put it past him.

but i couldn’t care enough right now. i just wanted his touch. i needed it. i had missed it for so long. not the lustful, mindless one i’d been feeling recently, but this — the hungry, desperate touch that leaves bruises in places no bruises should be.

he detaches himself from my lips and moves to nipping on my jaw, and my neck.

i hung my head in the space where his neck and shoulder connect, breathing heavily and whining right into his ear as he teeths at that sweet spot he knew so well of.

he bucks his hips up, searching for even the slightest friction as he continues working on my collar area.

i close my eyes, trying to stop the dizzying feeling in my head. but breathing him in while listening to his quickened heartbeat doesn’t do much to help.

he pulls away, forcing my hips down onto his own and causing me to sit up as i use his heaving chest as an anchor.

he squeezes my bare thighs, his fingers hooking themselves around the waistband of my underwear. he pulls on it softly as if testing the elasticity, his red eyes gleaming at me hungrily.

“did you know i was coming? is that why you only wore this?”, he gruffly said, still playing with the waistband of my panties as his other hand rubbed my back, riding up my tank-top even higher.

i think he knew this was just how i always slept, that it had nothing to do with him. but in this moment, he must have just needed to hear me say it: yes, katsuki, all of this is for you.

so i did, ignoring the fact that it wasn’t true.

he closed his eyes for a moment before sitting upright, holding me to his chest so i wouldn’t fall off as he readjusted us both.

“i’ll make it worth your while”, he said reassuringly, cupping my face with his calloused hand, giving my cheeks a squeeze as he planted a kiss on the tip of my nose.

melting at his touch as i always did, i rested my forehead against his as he looked down at his boxers, trying to pull them down with my legs still straddling him.

i lifted myself up to allow him space as he finally managed to kick them off.

i sat back down, his sprung up cock twitching between our torsos.

he stroked it once, the precum leaking onto my bare stomach as he slapped it against me.

i felt myself leaking on his lap, grinding on him, desperate to feel him inside me, but playing it off as just readjusting myself.

but he knew the truth.

he knew i needed him just as badly as he did me, maybe even more.

he slowly pulled my top off, admiring the way my tits bounced at the motion.

he squeezed my waist, muttering a curse under his breath as we locked eyes again.

“d’you have a condom?”, i asked as i ran a finger through his hair, watching as his eyebrows knitted at the pulling sensation.

“fuck”, he said more clearly now as his head fell, and i knew what the answer was. at least i was now sure he didn’t come here just to fuck.

i shook my head reassuringly, “i’ll get the morning-after pill tomorrow” i knew it was a dumb idea. even in that drunken passion haze, i knew it. i knew it was too risky, and that those things were only about 90% effective — and that is if i remembered to take it on time.

but i couldn’t pass on this opportunity. i couldn’t let him just go home after all of this.

Katsuki was smart, he knew it was a dumb idea, too. but he stayed quiet, nodding silently as he once again started playing with the band of my panties.

i planted soft kisses on his temple, nipping on his ear knowing it was one of his many weaknesses.

he let out a long sigh, mumbling something about ripping off my underwear.

they were an expensive pair, so i’m not sure why i agreed to it, nodding vigorously as i mumbled his name desperately.

like it was just a piece of string, he ripped them off swiftly, pulling them out from under me and throwing them somewhere to the side.

i once again rested on his forehead, watching as he slowly pumped his thick cock against my folds, squealing at the sensation.

we both knew there was no need for further foreplay. maybe when we were younger, we would take hours getting each other off with just our hands and mouths before finally sealing the deal.

but now, there was no need. not only because we were both as horny as one could be, but because we were also so exhausted. unsure whether it was due to the fact that it was nearly 4am and we were running on almost zero hours of sleep, or simply because we were getting older and didn’t have the same stamina we did when we were eighteen or nineteen.

he grabbed my thigh with one hand, lifting me off slightly as i grabbed his shoulder for support, squirming as he rubbed his tip all over my leaking pussy before finally sliding it in completely.

i let out a loud whine, hiding my face into his hair as he kept both hands on my ass.

i wrapped my arms around his neck and he kissed my shoulder, “you good?” he asked as he moved one hand to rub my upper arm in comfort.

i nodded as i let out a sigh, mumbling his name and a pathetic command to fill me up.

he listened, of course, rocking his hips up into me as he simultaneously lifted me off himself, trying to create a rhythm between the two movements.

“c’mon baby, ride me. you know how well you do it”, he almost begged. praise wasn’t something Katsuki practiced in our bedroom life, ever. if anything, he did the opposite. but i think in this moment, he was too exhausted to carry both our loads and get himself off at the same time.

i obliged, lifting myself off him slowly and dropping back down. he desperately bucked into me, unsatisfied with the speed i was going at.

i swirled my hips on him, as if i was tracing patterns with the movement. he let out a broken whine, sinking his head into my chest as i finally picked up the speed.

the sound of skin slapping skin echoed around the room, and i was sure i would get noise complaints from the neighbors in the morning.

he left wet kisses on my chest, breathing heavily as i continued bouncing on him.

i was starting to get tired, my pace faltering as i whined nonsense into his ear. “you fill me up so good, ‘tsuki”, i knew the effect my dumb nicknames had on him.

he always pretended to hate it, and only wanted me to call him by his name. but i always noticed the way his eyes would glint when i’d throw a petname into our conversations.

he suddenly wrapped his arms tightly around my torso, stopping my ability to move as he started pounding into me. the bed was creaking, and i’m pretty sure we even managed to push it from its position as i tried to grab onto the wall behind it.

i let out a loud moan as i wrapped myself around him again, feeling his thick cock fill me up as it pulsated inside of me.

his length hit the deepest part of my insides, and the rhythmic pounding of that sweet spot overwhelmed me with pleasure as i heaved desperately into his ear.

“don’t stop, Katsuki”, i whimpered into his ear, letting out more moans as i dug my fingernails into his back to try and suppress the feeling, but to no avail.

he groaned, holding me tightly as he suddenly turned us around so i was lying underneath him.

he kept up the pace, resting his forehead against mine as he stared into my eyes.

i let out a cry of pleasure, my breath hitching as my heaving mixed with the mumbling of his name and pleads to keep going.

he didn’t stop, but over time his thrusts became sloppy. i watched his face distort in pleasure as he closed his eyes to focus on the thrusts, resting his head in the crook of my neck.

“don’t stop, baby, i’m so close”, the only words of encouragement i could think of in this moment. i ran my hand through his hair, pulling his head up so he could see how good he was making me feel.

he let out a desperate whine, coating my chest with peppered kisses as he kept thrusting into me.

now the sound of squelching and mixed liquids filled the room, along with our desperate wails of pleasure.

“fill m’up with your cum, baby. ‘want to feel you inside”, i whimpered incoherently, pulling him in closer as i wrapped my legs around his hips.

he let out a groan as his pace quickened once more. he held one arm besides my head, propping himself up — while he slithered the other one down to my heat, rubbing my clit until i couldn’t tell whether i was moaning out of pleasure or pain.

the combined sensation of his sex filling me up and his rough fingers overworking my clit proved to be too much as i unraveled all over him, crying out his name desperately as i clung onto him.

his breathing started getting heavier as he kept pumping into me, trying to bring himself to a finish as he rode out my own.

i moaned words of encouragement into his ear, peppering kisses on his jaw and neck until i finally felt his cock twitching inside of me.

he let out a prolonged moan as his semen squirted inside of me, Katsuki pumping himself inside a few more times to ride out the orgasm.

i felt the juices leak out of me as he tiredly pulled out, still lying on-top of me as he tried to pull the blanket over us.

he kept his head sunken in the crook of my neck, his breathing easing as he muttered something incomprehensible.

i brushed through his hair, listening to his calm breathing and feeling his heartbeat slow down to a normal speed.

“i missed you too, ‘tsuki”, i spoke softly, not even sure whether he was still awake to hear it.

[potatomountain]

CIY- CH 17

Chapter Seventeen

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍Summary: "Down Bad" 📍WC: 3.4k 📍AU: detective/mafia 📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance, smut 📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, voyeurism, suggestive 📍Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @yessa-vie and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour

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Mingi stepped into the office through the back door, being gentle as he shut it as he was late. He was hoping to just slip over to his desk so Seomghwa wouldn't notice, but he froze up when the door to Yeosang's office opened up. He briefly spotted the plethora of monitors inside, but it was the man's expression that stopped him.

Yeosang looked… hurt almost. “You're late” He mumbled matter-of-factly, but didn't call out to the others like some of them would.

“Phone died.” Mingi replied sheepishly, holding up his phone that still only had a single digit battery percentage. He was usually good about charging his phone but last night he was far too preoccupied with you to remember and it died sometime between round four and round seven if he had to guess. And that was over twenty four hours ago.

His cock was twitching just at the memory of all you both had done.

Yeosang observed his face for a moment before his own expression shifted and then closed off. “Tell it to Hwa. Wooyo is already testing his nerves.” He stepped out of the room and headed down the hall without another word, something in his hands: several thick folders. He had been digging into some new people. Mingi’s curiosity almost had him forgetting his predicament, but he got close to his desk before his name boomed through the room. Flinching, he looked over to Seonghwa, a sheepish smile on his own face to try and defuse his anger.

The loud moan coming from Hongjoong’s office had him realizing that Seonghwa was not going to play nice any time soon. Yunho laughed at Mingi’s crestfallen expression as he sat down next to him, just to have the sound die in his throat, eyes fixated on his neck. “Now that almost everyone-” Seonghwa winced at Wooyoung’s cry from the Captain’s room, “-is here we can start.” He stood up a bit taller, hands folded behind him and jaw tense. “When was the last time he fucked you Hwa?” Yunho chimed in, leaning back in his seat. “It’s making you pissy. One of us could do the job?” Jongho scoffed, also in a bad mood. “Please. Everyone else has been waiting for the newbie to spread her fucking legs. Like dogs in heat just begging for a taste.” He narrowed his eyes on San. “You especially. Just fuck her already.” San rolled his eyes, setting down his usual drink that didn’t taste the same since you hadn’t brought it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “The gym? Really? I’ve been waiting to tear into you about it. In the arena? Seriously gross, we use that for practice.” Mingi sat up a bit more, brows pushed up. “What do you mean?” He turned to San. “Did you fuck her already? In the gym?”

San blushed, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck. “I just got her off with my fingers. Then Wooyoung called, Captain wanted me in the field and I had to leave her. I haven’t gotten to talk to her since.” The main reason for that was the swollen eye, again, and the stab wound on his thigh. He hadn’t wanted to worry you with his injuries again, so he had gone straight back to his shared apartment with Wooyoung. “And you won’t either. If we can move on from fucking her we can talk about putting her to work.” Seonghwa demanded everyone’s attention, clearly annoyed it took a moment for them to settle down. “She will start under Wooyoung-” “Seriously?” Jongho stood up quickly, hands on the desk. “He might-” “She will start under Wooyoung.” Seonghwa repeated through gritted teeth. “Because the rest of you have other orders. Yunho and I are returning to the warehouse and making our move there. San, you are to rest and stay in contact with the few informants of the Green Vipers. We need to know every move they make and to keep the suspicion off of us. Jongho-” He snarled his lip and pointed to the seat. “Sit first.” Jongho did, reaching for Yeosang who stood by his desk. Seonghwa took note of the files in Yeosang’s hand and frowned. When the quiet man noticed, he cleared his throat and spoke up. “Before you give me orders I would like to say something.”

Seonghwa was clearly confused, but nodded. “Speak.” Behind him the Captain’s door opened and out stumbled Wooyoung with a shit eating grinning, wiping off some spit from the corner of his mouth. Seonghwa didn’t dare look back just yet. “I’d like to look into the S.K unit some more-” “Binnie’s unit? Why is that?” Wooyoung walked over to him and wrapped an arm around his friend. “Oh you have his file? Not like you to snoop without an order Sangie. What’s the deal with the S.K Unit?” “It’s Butterfly’s old unit.” Yunho chimed in, interest cleared perked. “With that shitty fucking Captain?” Mingi sneered out, adding on. Wooyoung looked surprised. “Chan is the Captain that kicked her out? He didn’t seem shitty, really righteous and stubborn though.” Mingi scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You mean self-absorbed prick? He hurt-” He clenched his jaw, going quiet. Yunho gasped though, following his train of thought. “Oh you have it worse than I thought. Is that why you have hickies on your neck?” Several of them in the room reacted in shouts simultaneously. “Hickies? From Sweetcheeks?” “Oh did you two fuck?” “You’re fucking joking?! Thought you hated her too.” “Oh nice, me next!!” Seonghwa silenced them all by speaking over them? “Enough!” The chaos settled and he stared at Mingi who was now avoiding everyone’s gaze. “Spill.” “It’s not my place-” “They did.” Yeosang spoke up, an edge to his tone. “Back to what I was saying, Captain Chan has bothered her twice now and she had repeatedly told him to leave both times. First here, then at her apartment complex Saturday evening. She’s emotionally involved with most of the unit at least as friends, using two to help her with her undercover trial. I’d like permission to dig up anything I can use to get them to back off if they get too close.” The room went quiet, Wooyoung gawking at his friend while several others were just as shocked. It was Hongjoong’s laughter that broke the silence. “Wow, this is… wow.” He stepped up around Seonghwa and leaned against the nearest desk: Wooyoung’s. “So let me get this straight, Mingi has fucked her-” “Nonstop since Saturday evening.” Yeosang added with a deadpan expression. Hongjoong held up his hand to quiet the budding exclamations. “Mingi has been fucking her like a rabbit in heat, since Saturday, where I assume he had stepped into the altercation between Firecracker and Captain of the SK unit?” 

Yeosang nodded, giving his Captain all his attention. “Punched him and acted as her boyfriend. Wouldn’t want him to cause problems should he realize Mingi is part of her unit now.” Hongjoong chuckled at that, glancing at Mingi appreciatively with the others. “Good job. We’ll talk about the sex later.” “Then better scold San too. He did get her off in the gym. In the arena. Saw it on Yeosang’s monitor. Unfortunately.” Jongho sneered out. Hongjoong glared in his direction. “Thank you for your input. Yet it is looking like you are the only one who isn’t open to the idea of fully integrating her at this point, Jongho.” “He doesn’t want another woman. Man is still angry about the last- ouch!” Wooyoung hissed out when Jongho had reached around Yeosang to step on his foot. “It’s true!”

“I still believe she won’t be able to handle it.” Jongho grumbled, arms crossed. “But half of you are so whipped for her already what’s the point in fighting you on it. You want her, fine, but I still refuse.” Yeosang patted his shoulder before urging his Captain to speak. “Mingi has been fucking her, punched another Captain, San got her off in the gym-” “When did the Captain stop here?” Hongjoong asked curiously. “The day she was late and missed her usual breakfast. You had me install our information network on her laptop.” Yeosang offered, the room falling silent. “What? Did I say something wrong?” San sighed, leaning forward a bit. “How often do you watch her Sangie?” He furrowed his brows in confusion. “It’s surveillance San. I need to make sure she is trustworthy.” “How do you know her usual breakfast then? And how often she’s been fucking Mingi? And when her old chief bothers her?” “He has a point.” Wooyoung said with a grin. “Does Sangie finally like someone?” When the man in question grew flustered, he teased him further “ooo, did you get off on her getting off? Probably found the best angles to watch her get fucked by Mingi?” “I don’t have a clear view of every angle of her apartment.” Yeosang didn’t deny it though.

Mingi gawked. “You were watching me fuck her? Damn, I thought Wooyoung was the sex freak.” “Hey, that would be like at least half of us.” Wooyoung huffed out defiantly. Seonghwa sighed and sat down. “This is going nowhere. Joong, you’re enjoying this too much.” He elbowed the grinning man next to him in the side.

Hongjoong just chuckled. “They like her, it’s cute.”

“You set down precautions to keep Wooyoung in check right? Ensuring she doesn’t discover anything she shouldn’t?” Seonghwa ignored his comment, instead voicing his concerns. “Wooyoung will do his job well and Yeosang will be surveying their work as usual, yes. You and Yunho will be overseeing things in the warehouse. Make sure the Vipers struggle. If our little Firecracker’s idea is going to work, the Vipers need to be pressed on multiple sides.” “And if the Red Wolves catch on it was us that invaded their territory and not the Vipers? Will she be ready for action?” The others were going on about their own perverted tendencies, saying quite a few lewd things they wanted to do to you or see done to you. Neither Seonghwa or Hongjoong wanted to stop it for now. “Let’s hope we can get her focused on the Pink Boas and away from our other plans so that if things go south, she won’t be involved.” “And Mingi? Jongho?” The both looked at the two men, the former flustered as Yunho teased him about the hickies; the latter sneering in disgust at the conversation between Wooyoung and Yeosang as the techie was teased for his voyeurism. “While the Wolves have retaliated against the vipers, they are bound to spill something useful. They’ll be with me overseeing that.” “Will you be able to keep them from tearing each other up over the newbie long enough for that?” Seonghwa lifted a brow, naturally leaning towards his Captain. Hongjoong chuckled and nodded, reaching out to touch the small of Seonghwa’s back. “Yes, I think I can manage that.” He looked around the room taking in everyone’s current mood before demanding their attention, waiting until they were quiet before speaking. “Thursday. Until then we rest. Yunho, you're with Seonghwa. San rest but stay in contact. Mingi, Jongho will be with me and Wooyoung-” He smiled wider when the man straightened up, almost giddy. “You’ll be showing the ropes to our newbie. I briefed you earlier on the task, do make sure she is integrated well. Yeosang as always will keep up surveillance, communication and watching online activity.” He stood up, clapping his hands together. “Go rest up, it’s only monday. Oh and Mingi-” He smiled over at him. “Make sure you both can fucking walk thursday. Dismissed.” _____________________ You didn’t expect to wake up to knocks on your door, and you had no intention of actually getting up and out of bed unless you were finally called back to the Precinct to work. So you rolled over, about to nudge the man on the other side of the bed to have him deal with it, but it was empty.

Frowning, you lifted your head up and looked around the room, Mingi nowhere in sight. Right, it is Monday and he didn't have the day off like you did. Embarrassment flooded you at the thought of him telling the others about you, how you had been practically attached to his cock since Saturday night. You hadn't stopped to think about it, you didn't want to, and it had felt so good to just fuck and not think. You could think about it after some more sleep.

But there was more knocking, whoever it was clearly wasn't going away. And, they wouldn't be at your door unless the knew the code and you only told Hyunjin and registered it with the guard. Sighing you got out of bed, grabbing a house robe as an afterthought to hide the insane amount of hickies and bruises Mingi had left. You were sore, but deliciously so; Hyunjin didn't need to know that.

Hyunjin was not the one at your door though, but Mingi. You frowned, knowing it was still pretty early in the day- plus part of you didn't expect him to come back… didn't want to feel special when he did.

Stomping that feeling down you opened your mouth to greet him but froze up when Yunho leaned around him with a grin. “Damn, you weren’t lying.” You narrowed your eyes, moving to slam the door shut. Mingi’s hand shot through though, forearm getting stuck between the frame and door. Wincing at his grunt of pain, you let it swing back open. “Dumbass.” “Well you were going to shut us out!” He huffed, stepping in and reaching for you. He pouted when you stepped away, swiveling on your heel and putting distance between you and them. “Princess, why the cold shoulder now?” He knew why, you were certain of it, shooting a glare over your shoulder at Yunho who stood behind him. His presence meant you couldn’t just continue what you had been doing. No, now you had to talk. Which meant acknowledging things you weren’t ready to. Yunho lifted a brow, meeting your glare nonchalantly. “I won’t stay for long if I’m in the way of you two fucking, though I am so curious now.” Mingi looked between you two, that wide boba eyed, wet lip look that you thought was adorable on his features. Not that he had shown it often, usually aroundYunho when he wasn’t paying attention to you. But that’s also changed since Saturday. You suspected he only showed such an expression around those he was vulnerable with, and now that he did so in your presence, that would include you. It should stay just as sex, you told yourself, crossing your arms over your chest. “Then why are you here?” Mingi pouted out at your crisp tone, taking a step towards you until Yunho grabbed his arm. It was like a splash of ice water, a needed reminder of just what you were doing: stupid shit. It was stupid to sleep with Mingi, you made yourself vulnerable to him, yet you knew they were still keeping things from you. You weren’t a part of the team just yet, and you would never have what they had. It had your throat closing up, the distance between you was now suffocating. It was just sex.

Yet you didn’t want it to be. 

Mentally cursing yourself, you were saved from the downward spiral of your mind when Mingi did step closer. “I can have him go if you want, but he wanted to make sure I told you about the meeting today.” “Was pretty sure he would get on his knees and try to bury his face in your cunt as soon as he saw you if I didn’t. Though I would not complain if he did.” Yunho clarified, watching you with a now unreadable expression. It was almost calculating, but sympathetic? You didn’t understand, so you didn’t try. Mingi’s reddened ears were far more interesting. “Down that bad for my pussy?” You teased, unable to suppress the smug smirk. “Can you blame me?” He grumbled out hoarsely. “Anyways, you’ll be working with Wooyoung come Thursday.” You relaxed at the change in topic, especially for the topic to be work. Progressive work. “Oh? What will I be doing?” “Only Wooyoung knows that, but he’s the one that is the deepest in undercover, so chances are you’ll be starting your work there. Either stake outs, or being given a target to watch of high interest. The Green Vipers have been acting up so we need to have a good portion of our focus on them, and can’t be neglecting the rest otherwise.” Yunho started wandering around your living space, taking in the changes you have made since you unpacked. He smiled at a few things, which you would have paid more attention to, except Mingi was now right before you. And the fact that yes, you were finally doing your job. You could be crucial, you could do something inside this unit except argue with them and, well, fuck them. Your eyes met Mingi’s, a question in them you couldn’t put into words just yet. So you deflected. “What’s up with the Green Vipers?” Mingi reached out to play with the belt of your robe, waiting for your attention but your eyes were on Yunho as he now circled you both nonchalantly. “They invaded Red Wolves territory, killed a few of their men. San had been part of the-” “San? Is he okay?” Instantly worry filled you, knowing he got hurt so often and if he was involved in something that had others killed- “He’s fine, Butterfly. Resting at home.” Yunho stopped just behind you, leaning over your shoulder until you could feel him barely touching your back. Before you could react, the robe was open and Yunho had a good view of the marks on your neck and shoulder, down your body, and every inch of your naked skin. “Damn, you should be resting too. Mingi did such a number on you. You know he doesn’t like to leave marks on anyone outside the team.” You told yourself to push him away, but the position reminded you of the night at the club and you had so enjoyed being sandwiched between them. “I was resting until someone woke me up.” Mingi chuckled, knuckles tracing the curve of your chest before pinching your nipple in his hand and tugging. Your body reacted immediately, part of you ready to let them have their way.

Jeong Yunho just had to open his damn mouth though. “Chan is the biggest dumbass for letting you get away from him. San too for not fucking you when he had the chance. He heard those sounds and restrained himself?” He scoffed, leaning in to press an open mouth kiss to your neck. Only to meet air as you had slipped out of their reach and pulled your robe tight over your body. “You told him?!” You hissed out at Mingi, furious. You didn’t want your shame known to anyone else, it was a hard enough pill to swallow that Mingi was a part of it. And San? Did San spill the beans of what you did?

Was every ounce of intimacy you shared with them a frat joke to pass around behind your back? Had Mingi gone in detail about the many ways you let him fuck you? About how you had enjoyed it? It made your blood boil simply because you had not been ready to share. Not with most of them. Despite your questionable desires, you had hoped there would be enough respect to keep it between you and the one you had been with… otherwise you felt like a used slut to be passed around.

They seemed to realize how they fucked up, Mingi’s eyes wide while Yunho looked almost apologetic. “Princess I didn’t mean-”

“Save it.” You hissed out, lifting a shaking hand towards the door. “Leave. And do not bother trying to talk to me until I am ready to talk.” Venom laced your words, and from their reactions it hit home.

You watched them leave like pups with their tails between their legs, only when the door was shut did you let out a strangled cry.

How did things get even more complicated?

Taglist (form): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

| @philijack | @lelaleleb | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames

| @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630

| @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @iwishiwasrichasfuck

| @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

[alwaysshallow]

gorgeous, part 7

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

You're a vet with a pretty simple life.

One day though, things changes, when a big guy with a skull mask enters your clinic with a small, ginger kitten in his hands. (3,5k)

READ ON AO3

previous part

When you’re supposed to see Simon Riley for the thirteenth time, he doesn’t show up.

Not like it’s a surprise, but more of a disappointment, completely unnecessary one, given that he told you there might be complications. You didn’t even ask about them, knowing he’s not gonna tell you, and you didn’t really want to know what complications he had in mind, considering his work field. 

You still don’t want to know, not like that changed.

Everything started almost two months ago; he called you around the end of your shift at your clinic, when you were cleaning with Bernie. Caught up in the process, you would almost miss the call if your employee wouldn’t catch it.

He wasn’t beating around the bush. After a small talk—that you knew he probably hated to do—he straight up asked, if you can take care of his cat for a few weeks, maybe a month. Time really was a tricky one here, considering that he had no idea since a mission could go sideways. 

Without thinking about it twice, you agreed. Surprise was evident, as he got silent for a few seconds, then announced that he’s gonna be around five at your place the next day, to give you the cat.

With hope, you asked if it’s gonna be later five, as you hoped he didn’t mean the one in the morning; he only laughed at that, hanging up, and you just knew you’re not gonna get much sleep. 

“I’m grateful you’re doin’ this,” he said, once he got here. Eyes on you, dark like a simple, black coffee. Luring you into his arms more and more, especially at five in the morning to seek some kind of comfort that you desperately needed, as you slept a few hours.

“I love this cat. And I have to somehow pay for your fatigue with finding me a good mechanic, don’t I?” You raised your eyebrow. He chuckled, amused, leaning against the frame of the entry door to your apartment. 

You kept your mouth shut how badly you wanted him to just sit and have a simple tea. Just like he liked, you didn’t care. If he even wanted to, you could easily give him butter cookies that you made yesterday, they turned pretty decent.

“You don’t owe me anything, dove,” he murmured. One last look into your apartment; longing, as you noticed. 

It’s hard to leave something behind yourself, knowing it’s the last time where he feels content. At least, you thought that he felt this way—he didn’t need to deal with anything else, but things that were only around a normal person’s day.  

And he needed to leave this calm life for work. 

“Shouldn’t be more than a month.” He broke the silence, looking at you again. 

You tried to ignore the warm feeling, bubbling in your heart. Hot like a lava, sweet like a candy that you know you shouldn’t eat because you’ll get addicted; he only explained himself for the sake of the cat. Not because he felt like it’s right to do for you, or because he knew you’re gonna be worried. At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself. “Right. Where to, this time?”

“Iraq. And some countries along the way, depends,” he murmured, his lips in a thin line. With a sigh, he took a few steps into your apartment, enough to face you, his big frame towering over you significantly. You never felt so small in a good way. In a safe way.

“Depends. Get me a magnet, will you?” you asked, teasingly, hoping you didn’t cross some of a boundary here. His bark of a laugh calmed you with this a little bit. “What? I love magnets.”

“S’alright. ‘m gonna get you plenty,” he said—sarcastically, as you could sense—and leaned down a bit. “Anythin’ else?”

After a quick debate in your head if you should, you hugged him. Tight, your eyes closed, arms encircled around his body (at least, in a way you could because this man was massive). “Take care. And be safe.”

His body freezes a little; a cold cube against a heater like you, too tired to care, too afraid too. “Hard enough in a open field—”

“—just come home safe,” you said, not really thinking about the choice of your words. The aftermath came to you in a split second, warmness spreading on your cheeks.  “I mean… home, as in, here. Fuck, not here, I meant, a place, this town—”

“—Sssh. I know.”

You both stayed in this position for a little while. You because he didn’t push you away, he… for other reasons, but whatever this reason was, when he backed out, you saw how much more relieved and relaxed he was. Like this hug did something to him, put him in the right place of mind, where he needed to be in the sake of whatever mission he faced that time.

“Gonna do my best to be safe.” He lifted your chin with his two fingers. “But you have to do the same thing.”

You barked a laugh, shaking your head with a little disbelief. Cute. “Not really a challenge in a town where nothing happens.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’d be surprised, dove. Just do as I said, can’t lose you.”

And with those words and a small wave (initiated by you), he was gone. The only sign that he was here was his cat and the smell; on you, but also on the things that he brought to your apartment in order to help you with taking care of his animal.

Now, it’s only a faded memory of his smell around, which has both you and Sparkles upset. You expected it, of course you did, but not that much. You haven’t expected the weird void in your chest whenever you look at the text he sent you weeks ago, when they arrived to Iraq.

Nothing after this. Radio silence, and even if you knew why, your stomach twists every time at the thought that something wrong could’ve happened. Would you even learn about that? Maybe from your best friend that is on team with him, maybe then, no other way. Or this Soap guy that seems to be familiar with you.

Either way, some of the nights are almost sleepless when you think about it.

The day he’s supposed to show up passes quickly. 

Another two weeks after that too, and another two weeks. It’s a balance for you—clinic, house and Sparkles and occasional trips to the grocery store if you don’t have anything in the fridge. Everything is so mundane, and yet you feel like something’s off.

Like you miss something.

Someone, in that matter, but you don’t let that thought overwhelm you too much; it’s still so fresh.

You spend your birthday with a couple of friends, in your apartment. Small dinner, just to celebrate the day, as you don’t really feel like doing big things; or, going to the club, as you were previously doing every year. Now, not only that your best friend isn’t here because she’s on a mission to serve the country, Celia isn’t here either, as she had a family emergency or something like that. Ironic, yet, you just accept the fact and move on—it’s not like you have much else to do.

There’s gonna be another day to celebrate with them, you know it.

The complete irony though, comes to you when the power goes off in the whole building at three in the morning. There’s loud banging to your door that startles you awake and has Sparkles all hissing, annoyed, that someone abrupts her sleep like this. 

You quickly shush her, then you put your robe on to answer whoever is outside.

And that’s no one else but your landlord; in his suit, as always, even if he comes in an ungodly hour like that to your apartment. There’s a quick chit-chat about the rent, prices coming up, so you should prepare for this. And finally, he says that power is gonna be off for a couple of hours. You bite the want to ask how many hours, smiling, instead.

“Lock in the front door doesn’t work. So consider that.”

Your smile drops after that.

You raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean it doesn’t work?”

The man shrugs, completely unfazed by your reaction. “It doesn’t. Power’s off, so the lock doesn’t work either.”

Simple words, simple message, yet, you can’t quite get this idea around your head, when you’re done talking with him. Simon’s words echoes in your mind, when you close the door, checking twice if all the locks are on.

You’d be surprised.

It’s not like you’re a particularly easy type to scare, but somehow, you find it hard to sleep this night, as you turn in bed multiple times in a span of an hour. Shadows suddenly transform to potential dangers, figures are coming out of the darkness. Primitive noises bring you out of the bed to check if something’s happening.

So, you decide it’s best to not sleep at all than to have a paranoia going around. Completely unnecessary one, but it’s not like you can help it.

You thank yourself in mind that you have candles; multiple, so you can easily light up the living room, making it a bit cozier when you lay on the couch with multiple pillows and blankets, a book in your hand. It has to work somehow, since you feel way better than in your bedroom.

Sparkles is around, too. Maybe she senses how you are feeling about the whole thing, but she keeps her distance. She seems way more interested in the dark than you are, jumping on kitchen counters, looking outside. From time to time, she invades the space near you, wanting some head scratches. 

She’s just this way. On and off.

Like her owner—you think, sighing to yourself.

It’s hard not to think what Simon is up to these days. He’s probably in way darker places than your apartment right now, he’s probably way scared than you are. Or, is he? This man probably doesn’t even know the sense of being scared. 

Or, maybe he just doesn’t show it cause everyone is scared of something at some point. 

You don’t know, but you miss him. You miss the man that you met over four months ago just by accident because he found a kitten on a street. It’s a little bit ironic now, knowing how you grow attached to him, despite your “I won’t meet him anymore” mindset. Despite his closed personality that you desperately wanted to know a little bit closer.

You can’t help but think that he’s like a cat himself. Stray that will cling to you when you’ll give him food and then he decides what to do. Jumps from being away from you to being by your side full time—and you never know what he’s gonna do next. 

Like Simon. Just like him, considering that you never guessed that you’re gonna babysit Sparkles, treating her as your own pet.

You play with your phone as you think about messaging him. Would it be wrong? Would it disturb him? It’s not like he’d have a phone in an open battlefield, you’re not sure if he has service wherever he is right now, either. But, if he happened to read it, maybe he’d feel great. Maybe he’d smile a little, knowing that someone remembers about him—here, in a calmer world, where probably he’d prefer to be, instead of an open battlefield.

And that someone also misses him. Not like you’d admit it in front of him, but it is a simple state of facts.

Book you picked up goes aside the moment you hear another knocking; done with the situation that already is, you almost jolt to the door. “Another problem with that building, or maybe I haven’t paid for something?”

You don’t see clearly, but when the person on the other side of the door lights up the corridor with a flashlight, you see no one other than Simon. He must see the annoyed look on your face because he tilts his head in a curious manner; probably thinking what he did to earn a warm welcome like this. “Nice to see you too.”

You avert your gaze; maybe you should check who it is, not only because of safety, but to not snap at someone innocent like him. “Sorry. Thought you’re my landlord,” you mutter, ignoring how he barks a laugh, loudly, then closes the door. 

“Why is it so bloody dark in here? Haven’t paid the bills, tha’s why you don’t want to see him?” Simon quips. You roll your eyes, smiling under your nose nonetheless, knowing that he won’t see it. You missed him being around.

“Not really. Thought it’s gonna be creepier, you know. Sparkles likes that, just like her owner.” You shrug, following his steps, as he gets deeper into your apartment. Confident, like he actually belongs in the dark, not like you, frightened by it. It’s like he’s used to this.

“Her owner pays the bills, though. And even more,” you say, eyes directly on him. His blonde hair is shorter, not exactly a buzzcut, but close to it; messy, like he did the cut himself or someone who did it was drunk. Black surgical mask covers half of his face, but he’s still in his cargo pants and a bit of military attire, so you guess he came here almost immediately after landing.

You try to ignore how it makes your heart flutter, as he hands you something. “For you.”

“Oh.” You blink, eyes glued to the wrapped gift. It’s a messy wrap, way too much tape there and there, but it can’t wipe off the surprised smile on your face. Pattern is barely visible because of his struggle with packaging, but you recognize cats.

“...Thought it would be appropriate,” he says, breaking the silence, when you carefully open the layers of gift wrap. Multiple of them, when probably just one would be enough, but you do not comment on that. “A gift for takin’ care of Sparkles. And, for your birthday, even if they were a few weeks ago.”

You open your mouth a little. “How did you—”

“—I just remembered. ‘s all,” he cuts you off. Too fast, like he doesn’t want you to ask too many questions.

Too bad that you’re a curious individual.

You raise your eyebrow, amused. “Simon, I didn’t tell you when I have my birthday.”

He huffs, sitting comfortably on the couch. Manspreading, taking off his mask. He tosses it on the table, near the big candle you lit maybe an hour ago. “You did.”

You cross your arms on your chest. There’s a fire in you, slowly igniting; you need to push him a little into answering. Admitting what you know he did because there’s no power in the world to convince you that you told him. “I’d remember it.”

He rolls his eyes. They’re almost black in that dim light, as you sit right in front of him on the armchair. Dangerous, telling you to drop it. You almost hear it in your head. “Just unwrap the gift.”

“Did you…” you gasp. Theatrically, just to annoy him even more, as you see how his jaw tenses. “You looked through my account, hm? Instagram, probably? Facebook?”

“Suddenly a crime, that is?” A quick question; maybe a little nervous, but he’s more amused by your revelation. Or he’s putting on a facade.

“Not a crime. I find it funny that you just won’t admit it openly.” You stick out your tongue. “Like it is a crime. It’s just cute that you want to know something about me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Unwrap it finally, hm?”

It takes one eye roll from you to do what he says. Despite the messy packaging, you do it slowly, as you have no idea what is in there—and you really don’t want to ruin the gift, whatever it is. 

That gets you thinking: in theory, he doesn’t know what you like. You reckon he doesn’t have experience in this type of field, as the guys in the military probably just buy each other a drink and call it a day. Here, it seems like he wanted to do something more than that, more memorable than taking you out. 

There’s a high possibility that he asked your best friend, but you doubt that he’d do something like this. He seems like the type of man that would rather die and go his ways than actually asking someone for help. Especially in something so cheesy, maybe vulnerable for a guy like him, a machine out there in the field that doesn’t allow anyone to see what is going on inside his head.

It takes minutes, but you finally unwrap the gift, excited like a kid. Your hands shake a little when you see a small box—it takes one look at Simon, him nodding, and you open it, carefully. Like there’s something expensive in it, which, as you learn second later, is completely true.

Golden necklace with a hand stamped pendant; partially hidden sun behind the waves of the ocean. It’s delicate, nothing too fancy, but you know how pricey these things can be. It’s hard to find someone who does these things anyway, and now…

"I... don't know what to say,” you whisper out. Shocked, emotional. Not quite believing what you see right now.

He snorts. "A simple 'thank you' would be alright."

“Simon, it’s… beautiful. I just—”

“It’s nothing.” He shrugs, his gaze not meeting yours; he’s looking at Sparkles that bites his fingers right now in the little play they have. Unconsciously, you smile—there’s a thought in your head that you could honestly get used to this. Him, here on your couch, playing with his cat. Your cat, too. “Just a gift.”

“I’m gonna hit you,” you murmur, trying to fasten a necklace. It doesn’t work; you are either too distracted, or it’s literally impossible, so you look at your friend. “Could you…?”

You know that he’s amused by this first comment, when you see a glint in his eyes. “More a promise, than a threat.”

You sigh, smiling under your nose. It’s hard to ignore how excited you seem. “Help me, please?”

He doesn’t comment on that this time; just does what you asked him to. Slowly, observing how you take a look in the camera of your phone with a flash on, trying to get the best angle—and honestly, the necklace looks straight up from your dreams. Shiny, simple in a way, but so meaningful considering that Simon had to take care of it on deployment. 

Or, earlier. Nonetheless, the gesture itself makes you feel giddy inside.

“Pretty,” he hums, tilting his head to the side. Focusing not only on jewelry, but partially looking at your face too, maybe wanting to get your reaction. Too focused on your gift, you don’t see how his jaw tightens and he has to inhale.

“Pretty,” you agree—and you finally look at him. He doesn’t say anything for a good minute, just looks at your mirror reflection. “Something’s wrong?”

“I should get going.”

You blink, confused. Right now? Right now he has to go, when he just came here… five, ten minutes ago? You try to find if you did anything wrong, but nothing comes to your head. “What?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly thinking about something. You aren’t allowed to go there. “I just… should. You had enough of my shit goin’ around, you have to get some sleep.”

Desperately, you try to grab on whatever excuse you can to prevent him from going. You just got him back, you don’t quite understand why he wants to go right now. Not when you just were talking with him. “What? No, you can… stay, it won’t do any damage.”

“I have to get some too. Besides, I came here on foot, so—”

“—It’s dark, do you even think? I can drive you on my way to work, if you don’t have anything to do.”

“Dove—”

“Please, Simon.” It leaves your mouth quicker than you wanted to. A plea, something you’d normally be too embarrassed to say, if the conditions would be different. Right now, you can’t care less when you had him only for minutes.

“Just—”

“—seriously. Stay. You can sleep on the couch, whatever, but I won’t let you go when you’re tired as shit. I want you to relax, have a coffee or tea, hell, I can even make you a sandwich because it doesn’t require—” you stop, only a surprised gasp leaving your mouth, as he pulls you into his lap. Confident, like a conversation minute ago didn't happen at all. 

“You ever… stop talkin’?” He tilts his head to the side. You can’t tell if he’s rather amused or… else.

You shake your head. “Not really.”

“Figured that out,” he murmurs, a hand on your cheek. “I’ll stay, just stop. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“And make those sandwiches.” Simon gets up with you, snaked around his figure. When you don’t back out, he raises his eyebrow—a clear indication for you to take a step back; which, you do.`

He cuts some vegetables, when you move candles to the kitchen to see better, playing with your necklace. Doing that, you see something that you missed when you first looked at the jewelry. 

There’s a little “S” on the back of the pendant.

He personalized it. 

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Ok, but imagine a teenager! reader who dresses in Gothic Lolita! The over-the-top headwear, big skirts, tights, corsets, (sometimes) umbrellas, etc. etc. They are decked out in full Lolita outside of school, but they still incorporate some of the gothic feel in their clothes during school hours.

Reader isn’t really teased about their choice of clothing, especially since last time a group (with no style) was talking smack about Reader’s style in front of their face, basically calling them names and just being huge assholes. Reader, despite being shorter than the average teenager, threw hands when they started to touch them, and now that same group keeps their mouth shut since they basically got their ass handed to them by some short gothic hottie.

(Btw, sleep well and eat and drink loads of food and water!)

Gothic Lolita

Self-Aware! Platonic! BSD Characters x GN! Teen! Gothic Lolita! Reader

Description: You have an interesting taste in clothes.

A/N: Reader's style is a mix between Gothic Lolita clothes and Ouji (not considered part of Lolita style, but, it is the masculine counterpart of it. Style is considered gender neutral). Reader wear both masculine and feminine clothes.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Short.

🐾 When you saw Gothic Lolita style for the first time, you immediately fall in love with it.

🐾 It looked so cool, elegant and unique.

🐾 Without second thought, you decided to start dressing up in Gothic Lolita style.

🐾 Well, sometimes.

🐾 Wearing headwear, corsets, tights and all other clothes of that style 27/7 was hard. It was stylish, but, you wouldn't call it the comfiest everyday clothes. Moreover, you don't want to get into trouble with teachers. This Style is over the top for school.

🐾 So, the experiments time came.

🐾 First and foremost, in school you decide to wear, mostly, casual clothes. You choose black clothes with occasional royal blue and rocking horse shoes. You also wear a simple accessory, a little silver bat brooch.

🐾 At home you wear, what most will describe, Gothic Ouji. Elegant and comfortable enough for a casual hole clothes.

🐾 But, every time you need to go somewhere, besides the school, you finally can have fun and wear full Gothic Lolita outfit.

🐾 Black headpiece, poofy skirt, petticoat, tights, black umbrella... But no corset. It was impossible to tie this thing correctly, so you could breathe. But, your light makeup was always on spot.

🐾 You were confident in your style. Still, when BSD Cast arrived in your world, you feel a little bit nervous. You don't want to make a bad first experience with your clothes.

______

You, dressed in your Gothic Lolita outfit, finally enter the living room. BSD Cast (manly Fitzgerald) offer you to go on a small shopping trip.

All gazes were on you, when you enter the living room. For one moment everything was quiet. Then a choir of 'You look great!' and 'I knew, you had style' fill the room.

You were nervous for no reason.

_____

💰💉 The shopping trip leads to Fitzgerald and Mori buying you all clothes from every 'Gothic Lolita' brands you love.

💉 Mori do a little research, to help you find more Gothic Lolita clothes, that are suitable for school. Mori also likes to see you in new outfits.

🍰 If you became tried of Mori's advices, ask Elise for help. She knew, how to make Mori stop dotting on you.

📒 Kunikida do keep an eye on what you wear to school. Not because he doesn't trust you. Because he doesn't want you to get in trouble like last time.

_______

You were standing between Kunikida and Jounou, glaring at two of your classmates. They were beaten up and were shaking, looking at you. They were hiding behind their parents.

Fitzgerald, who was leaning towards the headmistress, hissed.

"So, let me get this straight. This two were harassing [Y/N] for no reason. When my kid reported them to a teacher, the only reaction was, 'Learn to get along.' But, when this two almost assaulted [Y/N], and my kid had to defend themselves, you are ready to explain them?"

The situation was a little bit funny. Because you were shorter than Chuuya by a few centimeters. And two jerks were much taller than you.

They messed with the wrong person. You know, how to throw hands. And have protective family.

_____

🐾 You don't have any trouble with other students after that.

🐾 Manly, because of your fighting skills.

🐾 You dressed as you feel comfortable, live with people, who accept your style and didn't pay any attention to people, who has problems with your style.

[sanccharine]

15 | child labour

hogwarts au

pairing: hufflepuff!tzuyu x slytherin!reader  genre: fluff, slice of life  word count: 3.4k

warnings: description of injury, probably inaccurate, idk im not a doctor

summary: whether on the field or during class, you never shied away from trouble. and in your sixth year, trouble seemed to follow you like a shadow, though you couldn’t complain. especially when that series of misfortunes led you to the transfiguration prodigy, chou tzuyu.  includes: NO ONE MUHAHAHAH its a tzuyn special y'all

status: ongoing a/n: happy tzuyu day !! also happy nayeon comeback day !! and thanks to @eternallyghosting for fixing my atrocious grammar <3

masterlist | chapter 14 | chapter 16

The morning of the detention, as well as your fated talk with Chou Tzuyu, you woke up earlier than usual. Taking advantage of the rarity, you did your routine at a similar speed and headed to breakfast. The hall has never been so empty.  

Lee had picked the day where the first hour of the day would be your detention. You weren’t sure how to feel about it. Though you were grateful that you didn’t have to face your friends’ many questions and suggestions before anything. But it also meant, you were left to your devices, left to think and think and think about how to go about fixing your recent stumbling. 

Too nauseous to eat, you grabbed a muffin and made your way to the library just as the usual morning crew wandered in. Thankfully again, you didn’t catch any of your friends. 

You might have taken a detour to the library, just to stall for some time. To go over the words you wanted to say. You’d hate it if you misspoke and worsened the situation. Previously, you’d tried apologising, tried talking and she’d shut you down. Maybe this time around the pair of you would just listen. You would, you promised that to yourself. And you wouldn’t be petty. And you wouldn’t push her away. 

Simple enough? Right?

You stood at the entrance to the library. 

Nervous doesn’t even begin to describe the emotion swirling in your stomach. 

In fact, you’d bet you weren’t even this distraught when the game happened. 

Clenching your fists, you pushed open the door to the library. The librarian looked at you over her glasses and clicked her tongue. You’re not a favourite, but then again, when were you?

“Professor Lee sent—”

“Detention. Head to the reference section.” Simple, the books won’t be cursed or ready to snap your fingers off. “Organisation duty.”

Don’t we have magic to do all that?

The librarian shot a glare over her glasses as if she read your mind, you just nodded and made your way. 

Sighing, you walk down the shelves, until you find the reference section. Marked off by a placard, you turned right only to walk straight into Tzuyu. With a groan, she gripped the shelf next to her while you just stumbled a step back. 

It's not surprising you’d meet like this. Not surprising at all. 

“You alright?” you asked since she was rubbing her shoulder. 

“Just fine,” she answered, short as usual. Then, she glanced at you. Her gaze shifty. “I’m fine. Are you alright?” 

“I can handle a little bump,” you chuckled, not at all disoriented. Tzuyu offered an easy smile, so you mimicked it. 

So far, simple. Easy. 

Time seemed to pause for a moment. She was still holding her shoulder as she looked at you, waiting for something. While you resorted to taking her in. You hadn’t really seen her in a while. Properly, that is. Glances during classes barely counted. And that night, that night before the game was such a strange time for the both of you. So, in a way, you were glad she didn’t look so sunken. 

There was still an air of tenseness around Tzuyu. But her hair had returned to its usual state, though for once it was completely down and her eyes had some light in them, expectant. You were grateful. Having been the first task of the day, your tie was still intact, your buttons done to the top, and your shirt still tucked. For once, you could appear in front of Tzuyu without being your usual dishevelled self.

This was good. 

“You’re here early,” she said. 

“So are you.”

Tzuyu just hummed with a twitch of her lips. Of course, her being early was not strange at all. 

You nodded, gaze shifting as you gulped. You hoped it didn’t sound as loud to her as it did to you. 

“I think we should talk,” Tzuyu let go of her shoulder and fully pushed the book in front of her onto the shelf. 

“I think so, too,” you agreed. 

“Help me?” She tilted her head to the cart and you nodded. 

Very quickly, Tzuyu explained the organisation system (which was way more complicated than it needed to be, and again, is this not what magic is for?). Considering the number of reference books you had to replace, you decided to organise them into piles on a table first. That way, you don’t have to go to separate shelves one by one, plus it allowed you to stay in one place and talk to each other. 

You handed her books from the cart and she organized them into the piles you needed.

“So how do we start this?” you asked, pointing out the code on the book. 

“I wanted to apologise,” you bit back the urge to say she didn’t have to. 

When you didn’t say anything and handed another book, she continued. “Starting from the fight, I’m sorry for hitting you with that curse. It wasn’t meant for you. Honestly… I don’t know what came over me.”

Tzuyu paused as she looked over a particularly hefty textbook. 

“It’s not often I behave so… impulsive,” she admitted, “I didn’t even think when I cast the spell.” 

She took in a wavering breath. 

“I know you know, but I want to say it again. It was me who cursed you… wandless,” Tzuyu said, naturally avoiding your gaze as she turned to place the textbook at the far end. “I don’t know what came over me, or frankly how I did it, it just happened. Actually, the first time I’ve successfully cast a wandless spell.”

“Successful is an understatement,” you joked. You fought a grin when that earned a chuckle out of Tzuyu. 

“Thanks. I don’t regret it—as in, if it hit Hyukwoo as it was supposed to, I would do it again,” Tzuyu quickly clarified as she took another book from you. “I’m sorry you were caught in the middle, and it was so potent, with your hand and—”

“It's fine,” you quickly reassured her. There was no more desire to hide your left hand, even though it twitched from time to time. “I told you right? That I shattered my wrist?”

She nodded, resting slightly on a pile of books.

Well, you guess you hadn’t explicitly addressed her when you explained your injury. Plus, crucial information had been omitted. 

“During our second year, me and Yeri finally got to play as beaters together. Hyukwoo, desperately, wanted the position. So he did what he knew best and jinxed me, mid-game,” you laughed at the memory. Though at the time, you couldn’t even feel your arm. “I lost control of my broom and the bludger I was waiting for tore through it.” 

One look at Tzuyu’s horrified expression and you wanted to take your words back. 

“I’m fine, it was fine!” you shook your left hand just to let her know. She wasn’t convinced. “I mean twelve-year-olds have twig-like bones, it makes sense—”

“Don’t you have protection? Or gear or something to prevent this from happening?” Tzuyu furrowed her eyebrows, a mixture of concern and disgust threaded through them. “How can it be safe for kids that young—”

“Yes, we have protection, gloves, and guards, but,” you stepped away from the cart and pulled back your left sleeve. Using your right, you push back your left palm as far as it goes and let your index finger stop at the faint line by your wrist. “See that line, just where the palm connects to the arm,” Tzuyu nodded. “Completely unprotected, but I mean we sort of need it for mobility. I was weak, I was out of control, and in the wrong position. All that put together equals a shattered wrist.”

Tzuyu just stared at you in a daze while you explained your injury to her as easily as she explained how to cast conjuration spells. 

“Don’t know all the technical terms, plus, I think I was passed out or sedated for most of it. But Madam Yun said my muscle had torn open, hence limpness, and bones shattered to pieces,” Tzuyu pressed her fingers to her lips, physically stopping the squeak that left her lips. “She said it took her days to heal it slowly, just so the bones mended itself, but mended correctly in there. If that makes sense?”

“And you still play Quidditch?” Tzuyu asked, utterly aghast. You couldn’t help the snort that escaped you. 

“Seems like it,” you smirked at her as you shook your hand to loosen it up. “But yeah, thanks to magic, it’s all good. Just—”

“Why would you do that to yourself?” 

“What?” 

“Why would you play when it's so dangerous?” 

“Because it's fun?” you answered plainly and she pulled a face. 

“Can’t be so fun, you’d risk your body over and over again,” Tzuyu scoffed, before turning back to the books. She didn’t have any new ones to add to the piles because you hadn’t handed her any. So she resorted to aligning the piles as straight as possible. “What happened to Hyukwoo, then? Why is he not expelled?”

Well, that’s a question you ask every year. But, unfortunately, you knew the reason. 

Same reason, you were still at Hogwarts too. In a way. 

“Guess what? One of his idiot friends snitched on him, terrified out of his mind when he saw how serious the injury was,” Tzuyu pinched her lips together while shaking her head, her eyes cold. You’ve never seen Tzuyu express so much… ever. That too, in such a short amount of time. “Hyukwoo hid when I was hospitalized, but then only confessed—full snot and tears— when his friend ratted on him. Yeri beat the shit out of him, broke his nose almost as bad as he broke my wrist.”

You snorted again, hoping that Tzuyu would join, instead she was turning a deadly shade of crimson. Surprisingly there was no steam bellowing out of her ears. Your laugh fell, deciding to drop any attempts at jokes altogether. 

“Both Yeri and Hyukwoo were suspended,” you admitted, a statement that sobered you. 

Once you caught wind of the disciplinary action taken against Yeri, you’d run to write a letter to your parents, not caring you weren’t supposed to leave the hospital wing. You’d begged them for almost a whole week straight to do something to prevent them from expelling Yeri altogether. 

They weren’t happy you were injured. They weren’t happy you were playing Quidditch instead of focusing on your studies. They weren’t happy you’d befriended someone like Yeri. And worst of all, that you were demanding that they’d use their name to pull strings. 

Finally, they came through. At a cost. 

Hyukwoo had planned to injure you and cast a spell on you during a game. He should’ve been expelled. 

Yeri’s retaliation, although she injured another student, did it on your behalf and didn’t use any spells. Seeing as it was her first severe misconduct, her parents should've been notified, and maybe lost her privileges. 

Instead, Hyukwoo’s parents did the most to ensure Yeri was expelled and their son got away scot-free. When that didn’t happen, it only meant your parents had done what they promised. So you had to do what you promised. 

You looked away, turning your body completely to face the cart. You needed a minute to reset. A moment away from Tzuyu’s stare. 

“But yeah,” you said, fishing out a book and checking the code. “It healed weirdly, I didn’t take as much rest as I should’ve. So even without your curse, it acts up from time to time. You don’t really have anything to apologise for on that front.” 

With that done, you turned to give her a book. Tzuyu was in a daze as she took it from you. 

“Tzuyu?” you said, voice very quiet. Though you knew she heard when her eyes snapped to you. “You’re… ?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she nodded before clearing her throat. “Where were we?”

“You were apologising?” You tried a smile and she rolled her eyes in return. That will do. 

“Right, next was the plan,” Tzuyu’s whole body sagged. “Oh, I don’t know what I was thinking— I don’t think I was thinking at all! Yeosang was so against it, I asked him to lie as soon as he fixed you. And, of course, on the way he and Wooyoung did the heavy lifting.” 

You nodded, handing her another book. 

“Honestly, it was so stupid, I panicked and just said whatever and Yeosang was kind enough that he just went with it,” she sighed and corrected a pile. “Seems Lee is like that, too.”

“Yeah, I don't know how you thought lying to Lee would work.”

“I wasn’t thinking, I told you,” you just laughed at her admission. 

You hummed when Tzuyu paused. When she didn’t say anything more you decided to ask the question. 

“Why did you protect me?” 

Tzuyu looked up at you. Like a deer caught in a trap. 

“I, um, I didn’t know what else to do,” she confessed. “There was no other option. No other right option.” 

Then she nodded to herself before looking at you again. A steeliness in her gaze. 

“Like I said, I don't regret it, not any of it,” she said. “I’m only sorry how I treated you after. Even if I did want to lie for you, it was not something I make a habit of, I was questioning myself and then lashed out at you.” 

“Yeah, no, I get it. I’m sorry for how I behaved too,” it was your turn to do some admitting. “I try—I try so hard to look perfect around you. I don’t know why I do it, I just do. Even though I know that you know who I am or how many fights I’ve been in, or how I sleep in class or don't tuck in my shirt or whatever. For some reason, it bothers me. What you think of me bothers me. I care so much about it—and I don’t know, after weeks of some normalcy, that fight shattered everything. There was blood on my hands, literally—”

“I’ve seen you fight before.”

“What?” 

“Y/N, every student has seen you punch someone at least once in their school year, I’m no different,” Tzuyu said, wearing an almost maternal smile. 

“No, yeah, I know. I know that,” you mumbled the last bit of the sentence, “it just bothers me is all.”  

“Hmm?” Tzuyu tilted her chin up in question, but you just shook your head. For a moment, she narrowed her eyes, hoping you’d expand. When you didn’t, she spoke again. “For what it's worth, I admire your courage. I mean I can’t say I approve of the method, literally,” Tzuyu paused to point at her prefect badge. “But I am yet to see you fight for the wrong matter.” 

When you just stared at her, Tzuyu cleared her throat. 

“That’s all,” she said, returning to her piles. 

“Was it you?” 

Tzuyu was forced to look up at you again. Her mouth twitching to ask the question innocently, even though she knew what you were talking about.

“The cushioning spell,” you clarified. 

“It would seem so,” Tzuyu cleared her throat again and walked over to a nearby shelf with a book. 

“Thank you,” you said, as genuinely as you could. Tzuyu only mumbled back her acknowledgement. 

After that, the pair of you got into a comfortable silence. 

What had you been so worried about? 

Your conversation with Tzuyu couldn’t have gone smoother. She said her part, you said yours, neither of you had anything to apologize for, nothing of substance. Yet both of you had agonized over it the last week or so. You, so much so, your hand had begun quivering the moment you started thinking about her. How ridiculous, you thought as you raised your left arm to shelve away another book. 

Besides, what had been there to worry about? 

You felt so stupid. 

“I feel kind of stupid,” you startled when Tzuyu sidled up to you, placing another book on a shelf above yours. “I feel like we were worried about nothing, thinking back on it.” 

“Game season,” you added, “tensions were high… we were stuck in our heads.” 

You paused to think about the same string of words your friends repeated to you, over and over and over again. 

“It happens,” you concluded and she chuckled. 

“Yeah, I guess it does.” 

Your detention had gone past much faster than an hour-long lesson would. So quick, you sort of missed the atmosphere. Just you and Tzuyu at the library, alone (well, with enough imagination that is), shelving books side by side in silence. Time seemed frozen and it was comfortable. As you grabbed your bags and stepped outside the library, the sounds of rushing students filtered and you had to bite back the disappointment. You had to head back to class when you only longed for more time with Tzuyu. 

“Excited for Transfiguration?” Tzuyu asked, her voice pitched up with mischief. “You just look so… zealous.”

You raised an eyebrow while she tried to tamp back her growing smile. 

“How do I actually look?” you asked, a smile of your own growing. 

“Like you're going to throw up,” she straightened, looking forward. 

“That seems more accurate,” you said, taking a glance at Tzuyu’s profile. She was still trying to reign in her smile. But when someone pointed at the pair of you, she acted as if she were brushing at her nose, and quickly her smile disappeared. Her and her carefully orchestrated mask. You decided to toy with her, to crack through it, you deserved such joy. Even if it came at your expense. “Now that I think about it, I am excited for Transfiguration.”

Tzuyu hummed her question, her head tilting subtly as her eyes never wavered from the parting crowd ahead of you. Should you do it here?

“Well, I’ll finally get to talk to you again,” her eyes narrowed as she turned to you in the slightest. “I missed you.” 

Something like a squeak escaped Tzuyu’s lips and in an instant, she clamped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes darted around, measuring and calculating. But even if she showed no overt sign, the rising rouge blush was a marker for the effect your words had on her. 

Good.

You pressed a palm to your cheek, you were burning up too. You figured as much. 

“Yeosang not a good teacher?” Tzuyu tilted her head up, her eyes glimmering. You had to admit, she was good. 

“Pales in comparison to you,” you said and grinned when you saw Tzuyu struggle to not grin back. “But who wouldn’t?”

“That’s enough of your flattery,” she huffed, picking up her pace. “It won’t get you anywhere. Don’t try it.”

“I’m not trying anything.” Why were you smiling so much? You should stop, your cheeks hurt.

Even with whatever game you and Tzuyu were playing, you didn’t miss the way people murmured around you. A singular glance behind your back showed most turning away and shushing their friends. Shouldn’t they be in class?

Shaking your head, you turned your attention back to Tzuyu. 

She had stopped at the entrance to Lee’s class. She was waiting for you. Her hand tightened around the strap of her bag, twisting and untwisting. You quickened your pace to meet her there. 

“Speaking of Transfiguration,” she glanced at the door just as you stopped in front of her. “I have something for you.” 

She opened her book bag and rummaged through it, before pulling out a textbook. 

Your textbook, soiled and tarnished, but it was your Transfiguration textbook. 

“I found it on the grass later that day,” she handed it to you. “Cleaned it up and had to let it dry. Would’ve returned it to you earlier but we…”

“Weren’t being mature.”

“I was going to say we weren’t on speaking terms,” she chuckled as you took the book from her. You flipped through the pages. Yes, some were dirtied but Eunbi’s notes still remained, only slightly muddled, though with her handwriting it didn’t really change too much. “But that works too.” 

Closing the book, you looked at her. “Thanks.”

Tzuyu looked at you, somewhat unsure. Then her glance shifted down the corridor, her eyes steely as the last of the juniors rushed away. Even though she was doing her job, you noted for what it was. A minute distraction from you. 

Then it clicked in your head. 

The library. The silence. The longing. 

The answer couldn’t have been more clear. 

“Tzuyu.”

For the first time, you reached out. First. 

“Teach me,” you said, “be my tutor.”

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: call me hamilton the way im writing these chapters non-stop ! would you believe me if i said i wrote 13, 14 and 15 back to back within like 4 days ? i certainly wouldn't believe me :P anygays have a good day/night everyone !!

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @tatliegilim @nanabongos @pandafuriosa60 @eternallyghosting

send an ask to be added !

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

Chaeri's masterlist

❒ Reading order: 1. Chaeri's recovery | 2. Calvin Klein with Jk | 3. HS concert

❒ genre: Angst

❒ words: 2.5k+

❒ summary: In which Harry Styles' post-concert doesn't go as planned for Chaeri, as Jungkook has something to tell her

❒ warnings: swearing; heated argument;

❒ pairing: Jungkook x 8thmember!OC

❒ notes: I'd have much to say about what I wrote. First of all, it was very difficult. Chaeri has this very annoying way about her in which she uses anger to hide other emotions, and I did not find it easy to write. Usually I don't expose myself much, for those who read my blog know that I didn't plan yet an ending of this story, but I think Jungkook is not in the wrong this time. Chaeri has sent him some unclear signals, plus she has completely distanced herself from him. In one way I understand his point of view.

Credits to media owners!

March 20, 2023

Chaeri bubbled with joy as she left the concert arena, greeting fans on her way out.

Concerts always put her in a cheerful mood, especially when it was Harry Styles performing, and having the chance to meet him backstage had made it an even better experience. For two hours, she felt like a normal friend hanging out with Yoongi and Namjoon rather than a celebrity herself.

When the concert paused halfway, Taehyung, who was nearby with Jungkook and a friend of theirs, asked her to tag along for a bite after the show. She accepted the offer, knowing that Yoongi and Namjoon would head home straight away once it was all over.

Though it didn't take her long to catch up with the two guys, she had to wait for the personnel managing the event to have most of the onlookers removed and organized so that all the celebrities could leave without being mobbed.

Chaeri waved to both of them as she drew near, her face aching from the long smile it had been wearing since the night started. "It was stunning" she exclaimed.

Wrapping Taehyung in an all-encompassing hug, she beamed with happiness "Harry was so nice to agree to take a picture only with me! I can't believe it's already finished"

She diverted her attention from Taehyung to give Jungkook a warm welcome too.

Harry Styles had put her in such a great mood, she wasn't going to let the bad vibes from their last encounter while on the set of the Calvin Klein photoshoot ruin her night.

So, she gave him a hug, albeit briefer than Taehyung, and then touched his arm gently, asking "Did you have a good time?"

Jungkook nodded, his voice muffled by the mask he had not yet taken off his face. "Yes," he said "there's not many who can put on a show quite like Harry Styles"

Chaeri gave his arm an affectionate pat in reply to his comment. "Well said!"

"Did she just turned in fangirl mode?" Taehyung teased her playfully, and she stuck out her tongue in response.

"Aren't we all a bit of a fangirl for him?"

Once they were in the car and out of sight, Tae maneuvered himself from the backseat to the front, taking care to not bump into them with his long legs. He then took a seat next to the driver

"What the hell are you doing?" Chaeri inquired, avoiding the near-miss of a kick that the boy almost gave her as he scrambled to get into the front seat

Taehyung leaned back in his chair and breathed a sigh of relief, pleased with himself for achieving the task. He spun around to face the two people he had just brought together. "I'm giving you both the chance to clear the air."

"What? There's nothing to talk about"

"Stop it," Taehyung replied sternly to her. "Every time we're all together, it's incredibly awkward because of you two. I don't know how you avoided it tonight. This has to end. Make peace."

With those words, he shut the divider between the back and front seats of the car, providing them with some privacy.

Chaeri had her mouth slightly open in amazement and was beginning to get nervous. She also knew that the broken rapport between her and Jungkook was a source of stress for the whole group, yet was that really the night and was that really the way to discuss it?

Jungkook shifted in his seat, his gaze fixed on Chaeri. "I'm sorry," he said "Don't take it out on him, I was the one who asked him to tell you to come in the car with us and give us some privacy. I needed to talk to you"

"I really can't believe you two pulled me into this little game"

Taehyung's words echoed through the divider, making Chaeri jump. "No one is playing games," he had his gaze focused on her reflected eyes in the driving mirror "You two have been avoiding each other for weeks, and it's not healthy for the group dynamic. Clear the air, talk it out."

She tapped her knuckles against the divider and asked, "Don't you remember you said we'd have some privacy?"

"My apologies," he replied. The boy in the front seat had now tucked his head down, out of sight. He was trying to be invisible.

Jungkook glanced down at his hands, where an array of silver rings glinted in the light. His fingers nervously twisted them around and around as he spoke, his gaze fixated on the shining metal "Before anything else," he began, "I want to apologize for what happened last time. I should have respected your boundaries... But I don't regret saying what I said." 

A heavy silence filled the air as she stared at him, her lips parting slightly before closing again. After a long pause, she finally muttered "Jungkook, please. Let's not talk about this again” 

The car had been driving for several minutes, thus taking away any hope of escape from that conversation she did not want to face. She made a mental note to kill Taehyung once that day was over.

"No,I refuse to delay this conversation any longer”

Well, from better to better.

Crossing her arms, she turned away from him, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm not going to hear what you have to say” she had to warm her voice first, to make it come out as if she didn't care what he had to say to her

Jungkook's emotions were now clear on his face: lips slightly pursed, eyes narrowed, and a jaw clenched tight in an effort to stay composed.

Damn stubborn girl

It typically took a lot to shake him up, anger or irritate him in any way. He was used to having his patience pushed by disrespectful people, and he considered himself quite logical and thoughtful. But it took all the willpower in him to utter the right words without starting an argument; that was the goal, after all - discussing without fighting.

He paused and took in a breath before continuing "Remember when you promised that you'd always hear me out? Has that changed too since then? What is left of us? I'm not talking about our..relationship. But of who we were for each other before all this”

Chaeri's stomach was in knots. She had been dreading this conversation for weeks and didn't want it to take place with an audience. Taehyung must have sensed her apprehension, as he cranked up the volume of the car radio. A song by Harry Styles came on - what a strange coincidence.

"I remember," The memory of them sitting on the steps of the old BigHit's building, much less tall than now- or at least Jungkook -, came vividly to her mind, along with the promise they had made each other to always remain close. It felt like a lifetime had gone by since then. ”But things have changed. We can't go back to the way things were before” Uttering those words felt like an inferno in her throat. She never wanted to say them aloud, yet there they were, hanging heavily in the air.

Jungkook felt something break inside his mind at the sound of those words, wishing he had been able to keep his composure and not let his anger get the better of him.

"You don't even try! You avoid me like a plague! You were already distancing yourself from me before the accident, and now it's worse. When we were living together in the dorms while you were healing, though, it was almost like things were back to normal; like my Chaeri had returned. At least my friend" 

"Why won't you understand that we can never be fucking friends!” Her voice grew louder than she anticipated. It was her fury that prevented her from forming the words in her head before they came out of her mouth.

Jungkook's jaw dropped as his eyes widened in shock. He felt the tell-tale thumping of an accelerated pulse against his ribs, as if it was trying to escape his chest

"I will always care about you, no matter what happens. You'll always be family to me, but I can't be friends with you anymore - that's all there is to it”

Chaeri's voice was firm and unwavering but her eyes are were filled with sadness and her lips quivered slightly as she spoke. Her hands clasped together tightly in her lap, her knuckles white from the strain.

"That's all there is to it!? Are you fucking serious?"

Jungkook's voice had risen, the intensity of his emotions coloring his words.

They were both going too far with their words, causing pain to one another.

Taehyung quickly turned down the volume of the radio, sensing the tension in the car. He had hoped for a peaceful resolution, but it seemed like things were only escalating.

"Listen," he interjected, trying to diffuse the situation. "I think it's best if we all calm down. Emotions are running high right now, and we're not going to get anywhere like this."

Chaeri ignored him completely but leaned over to inform the driver to stop because she wanted to get out

"Is that how you want to solve the problem? By getting out of the car?” Jungkook was incredulous

"I don't want to hear from any of you anymore" Chaeri spat back

"We're on the highway Chaeri, where the fuck do you think you're getting off"

"At a goddamn truck stop, can I pee in peace for fuck's sake?" 

Jungkook observed as she opened the vehicle's door and stepped onto the shoulder of the highway once the car had come to a halt. Her form was tiny and vulnerable in the darkness, and he felt an overwhelming urge to go after her.

"I'm gonna go talk to her" he said to Taehyung, who nodded in agreement and stopped the driver who was about to get out of the car to follow both of them

"Chaeri! Just stop for a second”

Chaeri’s small frame and her strides cast a determined silhouette in the night. Her blond hair swished around her shoulders and fluttered in the wind as she continued walking, unfazed by Jungkook's pleas.

"No, you know what I'm going to do? I'll head into that store, use the restroom, and then enjoy the dinner you said you'd buy me - by myself."

"Why are you so stubborn?!" His voice rose in frustration

Chaeri stopped mid-stride and spun around, her face flushing bright red with anger. She glowered at him, "You used to appreciate my stubbornness!"

Jungkook’s eyes were focused yet there was a hint of exhaustion around the edges. The light from the passing cars illuminated the determination on his face "I still do," he said. "But not when it's at the expense of us" 

She drew closer to him, her heart pounding in her chest. She cleared her throat and spoke quietly, “Us? You say it as if we were still an 'us'”

Was she really taking out on him all the bitterness she felt toward her own agency for what it had put her through? As soon as the fog of her fury cleared, she knew she'd regret how she was treating him. But in that moment, it was still overshadowed by her blazing anger.

"And you say this as if it was up to me!" Jungkook's voice was rising with frustration, he cast a furtive glance around the empty parking lot of the truck stop, double-checking that no one was within earshot. "I could not decide anything about this relationship. I know I said that we had to move on, I remember the night I said that.. But I ... I can't stand it. I tried, but I can't"

Jungkook took a step closer to her, his hands outstretched as if to pull her into an embrace. "I don't want to move on," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to let go of what we had"

Chaeri backed away, her eyes fixed on the tips of her shoes as she hugged herself tightly to keep out the chill and contain what she was feeling; whether it be was positive or negative 

"Whenever we're together, it seems to bring out the worst in us" 

The umpteenth realization that she gave the worst of herself every time she was with him made her sick. 

BigHit had been their downfall since they were first caught together - one continuous downward spiral until the crash in 2022. 

"It's like gasoline and fire; we bring out the worst in each other" She repeated at the end.

Jungkook took a step back, his hands falling to his sides. He understood what Chaeri was saying; since the break up they had been like a time bomb when they were together, ready to go off at any moment.

"It was not our fault" 

"I know, but it still happened. It didn't...work. We tried. We thought we could do it but in the end they won” She tried her best to keep her voice emotionless

"If I didn't know you-if I didn't know you, your indifference would make me think you never loved me!" Jungkook his voice hoarse with emotion

"Don't you dare say anything like that!" Chaeri's voice wavered, and she fought back tears. She took a step closer to him, looking up into his eyes "You know that's not true! "

"I don't understand why you're so determined to push me away" Jungkook said, his voice shaking. "I'll get over it if you.. love someone else now, but I cannot bear the thought of losing you as someone in my life" Those words on the tongue tasted like poison.

"We cannot be friends. Not the way we have been" she said, her gaze lowered to the ground, understanding this was the best decision for both of them.

"Why not!?"

"Because our love consumed me! Because every fucking time I see you, it feels like I'm stuck in the past. Every time I'm with you, you fucking idiot, I question myself about-" she couldn't dare to finish the sentence.

The tears that streamed down her face as she spoke were like a raging river, unstoppable. Her hands trembled and her voice was ragged, yet full of passion and emotion. He watched her with remorse, knowing he shared in the blame for the way things had disintegrated around them. She continued to scream out her frustrations, her words echoing off in the empty park

She sniffled and wiped her wet cheeks with one hand "The time spent together while I was recovering from my injury made me realize that it's best for us to keep some distance"

"Is it better because you don't have to deal with your feelings that way?"

Their faces were suddenly illuminated by dazzling lights, causing them to look as white as ghosts. Abruptly, they both turned in the same direction and noticed a pair of paparazzi - the distance too far to hear their conversation luckily -

"Fuck.."

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr | @ycuvi | @bts-dream

[joeys-babe]

Someday We’ll Be Together

Chapter 12: Since Lsu

————————————————————————

September 30, 2021

(y/n's pov)

its been..

18 days.

432 hours.

25,920 minutes.

1,555,200 seconds.

since i've talked to joe.

since our kiss.

since we cried on the sidewalk while it rained over top of us.

i had come to the decision to wait 2 weeks before possibly reaching out to joe, but now it had been 2 weeks and 4 days.

i did want to hear what he had to say.. but i was also nervous to hear what he had to say.

it was stupid for me to think the felt the same way, he could have any girl in the world; and there was no way he'd pick me.

over the past couple weeks, i've lost track of what day of the week it even was. i stayed in bed most of the time, busy feeling bad for myself.

gracie and jess had texted me everyday wondering if i had talked to joe yet. i'd tell them no and in they'd give me a pep talk in return.

they really wanted me to talk to joe, but i still had no clue to why.

it was 1 o'clock in the afternoon when my mom came in my room.

"good morning sunshine!" - your mom laughed

"not funny." - you

"i just thought i'd come in and check to see if you were alive." - your mom

"definitely alive, feel a little dead though." - you

"oh you're exaggerating. but.. you need to get up and out of this bed today. you, your father, and i have plans tonight" - your mom

"wait what? what are we doing?" - you

"we're going to the bengals game. joe got us three tickets but robin was the one to walk them over here. she said he didn't want to make you uncomfortable by coming over here." - your mom

"i don't know mom, i might not go. i don't know if i'm ready." - you

"this would be the perfect way for you two to talk, robin said he's going straight home after the game, win or lose. that's when you two can finally talk." - your mom

"i'm scared though." - you

"of what, honey?" - your mom

"what he's going to say." - you

"it's joe, y/n. it's the same boy you used to force to play barbie's with you. i wish you two would realize that you can't live without each other, and just stop fighting." - your mom

"it's hard to mom. it's hard to just see him as my childhood best friend when he's so much more to me." - you

"i understand, just tell me your decision before we leave." - your mom

"i will." - you

my mom gave me a small reassuring smile before disappearing out of my room.

joe hadn't left my mind once since that night at the bar and now i have to decide wether or not to go to his game.

on one hand, it was nice that he wanted to clear things up and the fact he invited me and my parents to his game today really showed he cares about our friendship.

but on the other hand he cared about our friendship.

to him i was nothing more than that, and at times it seemed like the only reason he talked to me still was because of how long we've known each other.

when i went downstairs for breakfast i immediately noticed robin sitting at the island with my mom. i had been avoiding her and jimmy too, only engaging in small conversation from time to time.

"hey honey!" - robin smiled

"oh hi! morning." - you

"you doing okay?" - robin

"uh.. i'm starting to get better, yeah." - you

"i'm really sorry honey, i hate seeing you hurt. especially over my damn son." - robin

"i'm fine, robin. i'll get over it." - you

"there shouldn't be anything you should have to get over! i raised him better than that. i mean has he even tried to explain to you why he did it.. or apologized?" - robin

"he has apologized, and he has tried to explain but i shut him down. he tried texting me, but after 2 days he gave up because i didn't answer. i'm sorry, i just can't talk to him yet." - you

"oh honey don't apologize, he really messed up. i understand you're side of it completely." - robin

i gave her a small smile before grabbing my breakfast and exiting the kitchen. before i got to the first step i turned around and asked robin something.

"hey robin?" - you

"mhm?" - robin

"is joe upset?" - you

"of course, y/n. that following tuesday, after practice joe went to the gym till dark. i had to call him and practically force him to go home. he's coming to a realization that he can't live without you and it's hitting him pretty hard. he won't talk much, to anyone really." - robin

"wow. i didn't know he was actually being affected that much." - you

"he's really upset with himself. he knows he messed up big time and wants to fix it. there have been a couple paragraphs he's showed me that he thought about sending you but i don't know if he ever did." - robin

"if he did i wouldn't know, i blocked him on everything.." - you

"that's your decision and i don't blame you. i wouldn't wanna hear from him either after what he pulled." - robin

"i'm just surprised he told you the truth." - you

"he wanted sound advice on how to fix the whole situation that's why. supposedly today was step one of his plan, you and your parents going to the game." - robin

"despite all of this, i cant but think about how sweet that is." - you

"i told you y/n, he really really cares about you. like a lot." - robin

"thanks for everything." - you said before walking upstairs with your breakfast

*time skip*

it was a few hours later and my parents had just left for the game. i decided to not go because i didn't want my first time seeing joe since the fight to be at such a huge event. both my parents and joe's respected my decision and said their goodbyes before leaving.

now that i was home alone i sat bored on my bed scrolling on my laptop looking for jobs.

i eventually gave up and picked my phone up off my nightstand to scroll through instagram. the first thing i saw was joe warming up and i couldn't help but smile, he looked so good.

when the game started i slipped one of joe's jerseys on and made my way into the living room.

once the game started i found myself zoning out while watching joe. he looked unbelievably good in his uni and it was hard not to watch him intently.

the whole first quarter every time the camera panned to joe he was looking up in the stands. it didn't take me long to figure out that he was looking for me.

(joes pov)

there was 2 minutes left in the first quarter and to my disappointment, y/n wasn't here.

i couldn't blame her, after all the shit i pulled i wouldn't come to the game to support me either.

but, there was a hope deep down that she would be here. the start of the 2nd quarter didn't make me give up either, i sat on the sidelines still staring up at the box my parents and y/n's parents were sitting in.

"joe. she ain't comin." - ja'marr

"you don't know that!" - joe

"i think she'd be here by now if she was going to come." - tee

i shrugged them off and while running onto the field with the rest of my offense i looked up at the box, she still wasn't here and that's when i concluded that she wasn't coming.

(y/n's pov)

i finished getting ready with 5 minutes in the 2nd quarter to spare. when i stood in front of my mirror i took in my appearance. i was wearing a  black long sleeve turtle neck with the black version of joe's jersey over top, biker shorts, and black combat boots to complete the outfit.

hurriedly i ran downstairs, grabbed my phone, keys's, and wallet before sprinting to my car.

i wanted to make it before halftime was over so when joe ran back out he would see me.

thank god my mom left my ticket on the kitchen table or else i wouldn't be able to get into joe's box.

when the security guard opened and i walked in, both sets of parents' faces lit up.

"y/n!!" - robin smiled

"hey y'all!" - you smiled

"come here, you can sit by me." - your mom grinned

i moved over and plopped down between my mom and robin.

"what made you decide to come?" - your mom

"i was watching the game from home. every time the camera was on joe i noticed that he was looking up here. i assumed he was looking for me so i wanted to be here for him." - you

"you don't even have to assume, he's definitely looking for you." - your mom

"no doubts there y/n." - robin laughed

(joe's pov)

when we ran back out after halftime i refrained from looking up at the stands. i didn't feel like getting let down again.

i was mid conversation with ja'marr when tee came running up behind us to interrupt.

"joe! joe!" - tee shoved joe's shoulder

"what?!" - joe

"look!" - tee pointed at the stands

my eyes trailed to where tee was pointing to see that it was in the direction of my box.

at first i didn't know what i was supposed to see until she started vigorously waving with other hands.

it was y/n.

a huge smile formed on my face as i waved back to her.

"you're whipped, son." - ja'marr laughed

"yeah.. i am." - joe continued smiling at you

"come on, lover boy we gotta go. you can fawn over her later." - ja'marr

(y/n's pov)

watching joes face light up when he saw me was so incredibly cute. my mom and robin's audible "awwww's" made the moment even sweeter.

the rest of the game joe seemed a lot less distracted, and they won 24-21.

"do you wanna come see joe with us?" - robin

"i'm probably just gonna go head home. thanks for asking though, and also tell joe i said thank you for the ticket." - you

"of course. we'll see you tomorrow?" - robin

"yup! goodnight guys!" - you

i made my way out of the stadium fast to try and beat traffic. my parents plus jimmy and robin were going out to dinner tonight, and from my mom i learned that joe was heading straight home from the game too.

when i got home i took my boots off and changed into a more comfy outfit.

sitting at the kitchen island in complete silence, i contemplated texting joe. after seeing his face light up on the field when he saw me in the stands, i needed to see him.

i found myself zoning out, my thoughts never stopping for a second when my phone vibrated on my lap.

grabbing it immediately, disappointment washed over me when it was just a message from my mom.

make it home okay?

i texted back a quick "yup 👍" before putting my phone down again. i was getting up from my seat after deciding to just go to bed when my phone buzzed again.

this time when i picked it up, my heart started beating out of my chest. it was a text from joe.

can i come over?

for a second i thought about what i could send back. something simple? something that shows how much i miss him without being too greedy? a simple yes?

after a few seconds of panicking i typed something up and sent it without thinking any longer.

please.

a smile wouldn't leave my face as i made my way to the living room. i watched through the window that overlooked the road, and started blushing when i watched joe fly out of his front door. his pace across the road was quick, practically running after he looked both ways.

once i could hear his footsteps on the front porch i started towards the front door to unlock it for him, but once i got to the hallway he was already standing there.

"i forgot you had a key." - you laughed nervously, unsure of what to do now that you were face-to-face with him

joe moved towards me and wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his head in my neck as my arms were around his neck.

i heard him mumble something incomprehensible, and when i asked him to repeat himself he pulled his face away from my neck. joes arms were still around my waist, my arms around his neck and he looked down into my eyes as fondness filled his.

"i can't do this anymore." - joe

"you can't do what anymore?" - you

"y/n, i want to clear up everything. tell you the truth." - joe

"then tell me, joe." - you

joe unwrapped his arms around my waist and grabbed one of my hands, pulling me into the living room and sitting on the couch.

"i'm so so sorry for what happened weeks ago. it wasn't what i planned at all." - joe

i heard his apology, but the only thing i heard was "planned".

"planned?" - you searched his eyes for answers

"planned. i wanted you to go to my game, and win or lose i was going to take you somewhere after. thankfully we won, and now i can admit to you why i was so persistent on you going to the bar with me. it was my plan to kiss you, but when i did.. i was so worried that you had just gotten caught in the moment and didn't actually want to kiss me. i totally panicked and the first person i saw was lexie. i'm truly so sorry y/n, and i know i can't explain it away. nothing happened between lexie and i either, she was being a total bitch and i'll tell you our conversation later. that is, if you still want to be friends?" - joe

friends.

"joe, over the past weeks i've realized that i can't go without you. i accept your apology, but i just have one question.." - you

a smile formed on joes face when i said i accepted his apology, relief washed over his body and the way his body physically became more relaxed showed that.

"ask away." - joe

"what were you going to do after you kissed me, if the lexie stuff didn't happen? what was the whole point?" - you

i watched him tense back up and his gaze left my face, joe looked at his feet as he thought about how to word his next statement.

"i was going to admit something to you." - joe

"admit.. what?" - you

"something i should've told you back when we were still at lsu." - joe

"which is?" - you

joe sighed before scooting closer to me on the couch, he took one of my hands off my lap and held it in his.

"in high school i came to the realization that you were the most beautiful girl in the world. when we were at ohio state together i started getting butterflies every time you said my name.. every word that left your mouth made me blush as long as it was directed towards me. when you went along with me to lsu, that's when it really hit me. you're the only girl i've ever truly truly cared about, y/n. no other girl i've ever been with has mattered to me as much as you do. you understand me more than anyone else, and i'm so grateful to have you in my life." - joe

my heart rate got higher and higher as words spilled out of his mouth. was joe really confessing to me right now? he felt the same way?

"what are you saying?" - you

joe licked his lips before making eye contact with me and letting go of the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"y/n, i'm in love with you." - joe

i squeezed his hand as those words left his lips, i've wanted to hear those words for so so long.

joes eyes were still searching my face for a reaction when i realized i hadn't said anything yet. without thinking i launched forward and hugged my arms around his neck, now sitting on his lap.

when i pulled myself away from him i cupped his face in my hands.

"joe, i'm in love with you too. have been for a long time, and you have no idea how happy i am to hear you feel the same way." - you

joe couldn't get the smile off his face, and i couldn't either.

"can i kiss you?" - joe smiled

"of course." - you

joe leaned forward and pressed his lips onto mine, it felt like fireworks were going off around us as our lips connected.

after a few moments we pulled away completely breathless with our foreheads touching.

"god, i'm so happy you feel the same way. now you can understand why i was so pissed off when you went on a date with tee. it wasn't just because he was my teammate, i just couldn't stand seeing you with another guy that wasn't me." - joe

"it makes sense now. i'm really really glad things ended up working out though. i've been venting to my mom about you for the past 5 years." - you

"i vented to her too! i don't know how your mom was able to keep from telling you that i felt the same way." - joe

"she was hoping a moment just like this would happen, that's how. and you don't have to worry about other guys anymore, by the way." - you

"i know. all mine now." - joe leaned in and kissed you

"i love that you just did that. we just kissed and it was so casual. like i can kiss you whenever i want now." - you smiled

"you're so cute." - joe laughed

eventually joe laid flat on his back and i laid next to him, his hand on my back keeping me from falling off the couch.

"what time is it?" - you

joe picked his phone off of his chest and read the time out.

"almost one. 12:47." - joe

"i don't want you to leave." - you buried your face in his neck

"i don't want to leave either. can i just stay the night? i really don't feel like sleeping without you tonight." - joe

"sure, let's head up to my room." - you

joe and i made our way upstairs to my room, he was now laying in the middle of the bed in the room that he helped me set up.

i excused myself to go wash my face, and by the time i had gotten back joe was sprawled out on the bed looking super comfortable.

"someone looks comfy." - you laughed

"i'd be even more comfy with you next to me, c'mere." - joe patted the space next to him

i made quick work getting underneath the covers and getting comfortable.

"you really sleep in just sweatpants and a sweatshirt?" - you

"i just sleep in boxers, but i think it's a little early for that." - joe winked as he moved a hair out of your face

i giggled and returned to laying on my pillow instead of joes like i was moments before. i guess joe could sense my unsureness of what to do next because he smiled as he pulled me into his chest.

"you can lay on me." - joe kissed your head

my cheek was pressed against his left peck as my hand rested just bellow his right.

"your chest is so comfy." - you

joe laughed sweetly before kissing my forehead, as soon as he pulled away he pressed another kiss to it and another and another.

"you're gonna kiss your lips off, joe!" - you giggled

he finally moved away and moved onto his side, now he was leaning on top of me.

"that's the plan, honey." - joe smiled

the nickname had me blushing and giggling before i pressed another kiss to his lips.

"we've gotta make up for the 5 years of missed opportunities for kisses." - you

"i can arrange that." - joe moved down and kissed you again

after a few more kisses, joe laid back down and pulled me back to his chest. his arms were wrapped tightly around my waist and it felt so right.

"our parents are gonna flip when they find out about us." - you smiled

"our moms have been planning this since they found out i was a boy and you were a girl." - joe laughed

"i have a question." - you

"you're full of those tonight, huh?" - joe grinned

i laughed before continuing on.

"what happens now? about us?" - you

"well, i'm a little tired right now. so i was thinking tomorrow night i take you on our first official date. that is if you aren't busy and would like to go with me?" - joe

"of course i'll go with you. plus i'm never busy joe i literally live with my parents." - you

"hopefully that'll change eventually." - joe

"what do you mean?" - you grinned up at him

"if we start dating and have a serious relationship, i was hoping at some point you'd move in with me. i mean would you rather live with your parents or your super ultra-cool best friend/boyfriend." - joe

"i love the sound of that." - you blushed

"living with me?" - joe

"that… and also you calling yourself my boyfriend." - you

"who knows, i might be able to call myself that after tomorrow night." - joe shrugged and you hid your blush in his chest

"you're gonna be the absolute death of me, joseph lee." - you

joes laugh shook his chest, me included, as he rubbed up and down my arm. when he finished laughing he let out a loud yawn.

"you tired from your game? i haven't even congratulated you on your win yet, i'm sorry! i'm such a terrible almost girlfriend." - you

"you're a perfect almost girlfriend. plus there have been more important things on our hands tonight." - joe

"okay well, goodnight joey." - you kissed his cheek

"goodnight, y/n." - joe kissed your head and rubbed your back in attempts to lull you to sleep

it wasn't long before joes chest got into a rhythm of rising and falling and small snores escaped from him.

tonight i fell asleep on the chest of my favorite boy knowing he was just as in love with me as i was with him.

————————————————————————

authors note: some fluff to end the horrid sunday that this day has been. 😭

(some angst is def coming soon though 😉)

hope you enjoyed! ❤️

[blimbosworlddd]

Nirvana: A Rock Lee Tale (Chapter 5)

Summary: Your dating life is terrible. Your friends’ marriage is fantastic. Your career as a medic is doing great, though. But you aren’t happy. However, after one quick trip to the Mighty Rock Dojo, you stumble upon the most magnificent man you’ve ever met- the taijutsu master- Rock Lee.

Notes: slow burn fic, afab/fem/black reader.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, (light) descriptions of blood and violence, usage of the N word, mentions of drug use. The reader and Lee are in their 20s but virtually any age group that is 18 and up can enjoy this story. Again 18+, minors do not interact… pls.

Word count: 7.5k

Masterlist

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9 YEARS AGO

Even though you completed assignments in the study hall since you hated doing it at home, school always found a way to leak itself into your private life- especially during your senior year of high school. At least your boyfriend, Shikamaru, sat beside you in the library, a toothpick dangling from his mouth as he tilted back in his seat. You never understood why he was so content with just sitting there silently while you studied.

“Cause it’s funny seeing you tryna use your pea brain.”

He stared straight ahead when he said it, but after he side-eyed your bottom lip curling into a little pout, that shit-eating grin of his appeared.

“Shut up, pineapple!” You whisper-shouted. “Not everyone can get perfect grades without putting in the work like you.”

Shikamaru scoffed at your complaint, even though complaining is one of his favorite things to do. But he’s only teasing: you’re the smartest person he’s ever met, besides his late father of course. 

He remembered the times when you’d read anatomy books for hours, just to get to his place and talk his ear off about all the new body parts you learned and what you’d do if they were hypothetically harmed in any way. If he had cut or bruised himself around you, you would sit him down, explain to him what area he injured (even if he already knew), and how you’re gonna treat it while tending to the wound. For any injury that was beyond your capabilities, you'd research them in depth and explain her findings to him later. You just loved taking care of him, and sometimes he genuinely believed that he was your first patient.

He remembered you holding his hand at the funeral at the end of middle school, while both of you stared down at his father’s open casket. You imagined Shikamaru in that casket and never really left his side after that, though not to suggest you ever had before. And it didn’t take long for Shika to notice your strengthened devotion, the stars in your eyes whenever you looked at him, the hitch of your breath when you’d tell him a truth about yourself that you didn’t like. He appreciated the sentiment at least… It’s just that death peeled off a new layer of meaning for your relationship. A layer so deep that you never stopped to wonder how many layers your companion had already uncovered about himself.

“It’s ok if you need help, y/n. That’s what boyfriends are for.” Shika slipped his hands from his pockets and slowly leaned towards you until his face was inches away from yours. He was so close, you could feel his breath hit your mouth. “But don’t act like you prefer me being somewhere else right now.”

And it’s even harder to wonder about such layers when his sharp, sleepy eyes bored into yours. That lazy smile hinted at mischief and passion. The nonchalant cadence of his voice that made all of your problems seem easily solvable, and your worries erasable. He knew just how to crumble whatever sorry remains of a front you had put up. 

“Fine…” you murmured, unable to look away. “Th-there’s this one problem I’m stuck on.”

You flipped a couple of pages in your textbook, ignoring the way Shika scooted his chair closer to yours until you could smell his expensive cologne..

How am I supposed to focus like this??? You thought.

“This one?” Your partner mumbled, pointing at the problem you drew a question mark beside. You nodded meekly, watching him slide the book closer in his direction. 

In less than thirty seconds, Shika read the question and asked you what you’re confused with. Right after you confessed, he made sure you understood your erroneous thought process towards said question and reframed it in a way where you comprehended why the new answer is correct, and why your previous one was not. He did this with pretty much everything he approached. Most of the time it was helpful, other times it was… telling.

He tested you on the next question, to which you answered correctly after being given some time to brainstorm. The young man rewarded your round cheek with a wet kiss, warning you not to wipe it off even though he knew you wouldn't dare. 

“Now, ace this next problem so we can get some grub. School lunch always sucks.”

You considered his offer as if you never blindly agreed to do this many times before.

“Okay!” you chirped.

He helped put your books away and carried some of your bags to ease the asphyxiating weight of school. You both walked through the campus doors on the way to your favorite cafe.

FIRST YEAR OF COLLEGE

Your legs entangled with Shika’s in his sheet-clad queen-sized mattress. You used his shoulder to cushion the side of your head with a draped arm over his bare chest. You buried your face in his neck to avoid the sun rays that painted the russet canvas of your skin. Shika’s got an arm hooked on your waist, while his other hand absentmindedly caressed you anywhere he could. A joint was planted between his dried lips, while gently exhaling a cloud of cannabis through his nose. You never minded the smell when he smoked, you both would often share his weed that he never failed to remind you was his if you ever gave him attitude.

Shika wordlessly passed you the weed when he was halfway done, signaling that you could finish the rest of it. He remembered cackling at you during summer camp a few years back because you choked and hacked after smoking your first blunt. He loved how imperfect you were, loved your tendency to let your innocent curiosity lead the way while adorably trying to be everything society expected of you. He loved how you looked to him to taste the raw experiences of life, while never realizing that you were life itself. He lived vicariously and shamelessly through the endless aspects of your wonder; you couldn’t bore him if you did absolutely nothing.

So you accepted his joint with a meek ‘thank you’ and took a deep drag. Shika’s eyes were already red, but you always found that hot. He fucked differently when he got high too; he’d lazily guide your hips as you bounced on his cock till you both came, rather than coax your body into submission with orgasm after orgasm beneath him like he usually did. It was a Saturday morning, and you had barely passed your current quarter of classes with a renewed yet ceaselessly rigorous schedule as a nurse’s assistant. Shikamaru had just finished an unholy 60-Hour Broker Licensing course. So it’s an understatement to say y’all hadn’t hung out much in the past few weeks.

“You need a new bed,” you sigh, snuggling closer to your boyfriend so you could hook a leg over his pelvis.

“I need my own house,” he slurred sleepily, idly patting your thigh that sat on his lower stomach. “This whole fuckin dorm’s a drag.”

He was right: not only was the bed too small, the wall paint peeled everywhere and there was’s no heating system. On top of that he had to pay to stay in the residency. He’d go to your place more often if you weren’t living with your parents at the time, but he had to make due with what he signed up for and what he didn’t. That’s another thing you loved about Shika. No matter how much he moaned and groaned, he always got the job done.

You playfully tapped on your man’s hard belly, dragging your fingertips along his abs until they stopped at his pecs. You poked and prodded at the smooth skin. Shika slipped the bud from your lips and tossed it on the ashtray beside him.

“I could lay here with you like this forever,” you mumbled enchantedly. “I’ll love you forever.”

You raised your chin to check your boyfriend’s reaction. He was already staring down at you and recognized the glaring glow behind your irises. One thing he knew for sure about you, was that when you’re fascinated by something beyond reasoning, you have this look on your face:; plump lips slightly parted with a mindless grin, raised brows, shallow breathing and motionless eyes that wait for the object of its irrepressible fixation to fill the void behind them. It’s comparable to a thousand-yard stare, and it’s the same look you gave to Shika.

He smirked hopelessly. “Even on a shitty bed?”

A chortle escaped you, and his chest rumbled with gentle laughter beneath the palm of your hand.

“Baby, I’d lay with you on the cold pavement if I had to.”

“Bullshit,” he spat playfully.

You laughed at his remark but it wasn’t a joke. Although you never admitted that to him.

SECOND YEAR OF COLLEGE

Everything was fine. Your career was fine. Your grades met the requirements to keep you on the right track for receiving your bachelors in science in a couple years. Your love life with Shika was fantastic. Even though you lived with your parents they never checked on you or asked how you're doing. They only spoke with you out of necessity and were either working a shit ton or just didn’t bother being home. Your love life with Shika was amazing though, and that’s what mattered. You never felt chosen by your parents but that’s fine. Shika chose you and that’s what mattered.

Everything was fine. 

THIRD YEAR OF COLLEGE

Shikamaru and Temari met at a lecture. It was her first semester at his school, and she just wanted to make the best of her time there so that ends would meet. The first thing Shika noticed about her was her four spiky ponytails and that resting scowl on her face. She looked like she couldn’t stand a single thing in her vicinity, and he liked that more than he wanted to admit.

She sat beside him since there weren’t many other seats available. Shika side eyed her curiously at the way she unzipped her bag to pull out her academic supplies. She did everything with effortless grace; her handwriting captivated him, the questions she’d ask the professor made him think of sincere answers to them, her voice was smooth yet heavy with determination. Not once did she ever acknowledge Shika and fuck- she smelled good.

Class was about to end in 10 minutes, the least he could do was try and get a conversation in.

“I like your hair.”

Temari paused but refused to look at him, and continued to write. “Thanks.” 

Her tone was curt and damn near emotionless, it reminded him of how he would sound while on social auto-pilot.

“Are you really interested in anything they’re saying?”

Temari glanced at the professor before focusing back on her notes.

“Yep.”

Is she really interested in anything I’m saying? He thought.

“I’m Shikamaru, what’s your name?”

“Temari.”

“I’m from Minnesota, where are you from?”

“…Michigan.”

Shika reeled back and paused. His ego’s telling him to not even bother and continue listening to the lecture, but his mind’s telling him to ask more questions. His ego was telling him that worrying about what to say to someone he had just met was irrational, and yet his mind was flashing images of you. What could he do? What should he do?

“…Hmph, I bet you’re a stoner.”

Termari’s eyes widened at his sheer audacity, and finally turned her head to face him.

“What?”

“Yup. You might be an edible girl, don’t seem like the type who’d wanna fuck her lungs.”

The spiky haired girl laughed incredulously at his vulgarity. “And what are you, a crackhead?”

“If I were a crackhead- who actually has money if you’re wondering- then do you really think I’d spend my time talking to you?”

Temari raises a brow. “Then why are you?”

Shika chuckles, “Because I like you, and I want us to be friends.”

She couldn’t quite seem to put a finger on why, but Shika was a douchebag that actually managed to catch her interest. She hates douchebags because they usually lack the nuance to do so, but he’s not even trying that hard. He  didn’t care for what came out of his mouth, since he believed in every single word. Not only that but he was fine. Real handsome; his dark jagged hair, those piercing eyes, his studded ears, and that lip ring, his effortless attitude, and the exquisite hoarseness of his timbre kept pulling her mind into the grasp of his own.

Temari’s face felt strangely hot, and a huge part of her felt truly foolish for entertaining this man. But a bigger part of her felt even more foolish for almost allowing fear to spoil potential fun. So, she took a deep inhale and relaxed her grip on her pencil.

“I smoke sometimes, edibles are too strong. …And I take shrooms.”

A proud grin illuminated Shika’s face. No, he wasn’t completely accurate, but it was’s a start. She was comfortable enough to share a little about herself and that’s all he needed.

-

Their first hangout was at a record store after realizing they both shared a love for music. They showed each other their favorite artists, songs, and albums. The two tried so hard not to run their own pockets for the latest releases.

“I don’t have a record player by the way.” Temari minded while carefully shuffling through the colorful vinyls.

“No need,” Shika waved off. “Got one at my place.”

Temari ceased browsing the music, and slowly raised her head to the dark haired man.

“Are you inviting me to your man-cave, Shikamaru?” She sneered.

Shika chucked his fists into his pockets and looked up at the ceiling as if his cheeks weren’t rosy with bravery. “…Only if you’re up for it.”

He peeked a look at her form- her arms folded in an attempt to limit how big her smirk should be. However, her amusement radiated like heat. She couldn’t seem to believe that she was genuinely interested in getting to know this poser. But why did she need a reason to hang out with whoever she wanted? He had put in the effort, so why couldn’t she make the most of it if she pleased?

“I guess I am.” Temari concluded, more to herself in bewilderment.

Shika huffed a scoff of relief, and smiled to himself for making her comfortable enough to want to go home with him. There was so much more he wanted to share with her. Most of all he wanted to see how she’d respond to each experience he was willing to share and how many experiences she would allow. 

“Also, I have something for you back at mines.”

The spiky haired woman’s interest had already peaked, but her expectations were still low. “So we’re not buying anything from here?”

Shika scratches the back of his head. “I’m not at least. But why spend your money here when you have a free gift waiting for you?”

Temari raised a brow. “You’re not gonna drug me up and kidnap me are you?”

Shika chortled more bitterly this time, but he still knew her suspicious teasing was understandable.

“No, Temari.” he sighed with a roll of his eyes.  “And if it eases your mind, I have a surprise for you. That’s why I’m not being specific about it.”

Temari was not a fan of surprises, but he seemed thoughtful enough to give her a present so she might as well grant him a chance, no? Shika watched her shrug her shoulders and raise her hands in defeat. “Lead the way, buddy.”

-

Shika opened the front door for Temari and she nodded her head to him in gratitude. His humble abode was definitely humbling to say the least. But at least he made his bed before starting the day. His side of the dorm was also as clean and presentable as possible. She refused to blame him for the sorry state of the building and respected his ability to make the most of it.

She watched Shika hunch down to sit on his haunches and search through the contents in his wooden shelf..

“You can uhh…have a seat wherever you like.” He grunted softly.

Temari decided to sit on the foot of his bed, and side-eyed the way Shika’s shirt slightly rode up his toned back as he dug deeper through his shit.

“Alright,” he exhaled eagerly before standing on his feet. “Close your eyes f’me.”

Temari's eyes twitched hesitantly before closing them shut. She heard the quiet shuffling of footsteps, which caused a wave of anticipation to wash over the pores of her skin.

“Now open ‘em.”

Before her was a vinyl, but not any ole regular shmegular one. It was her top favorite album from her top favorite band: For The World to See by Death.

Death is not the most well known band by a long shot, but that doesn’t take away their permanent influence on the punk rock scene. And it especially doesn’t take away their permanent influence on Temari’s life as a young adult. Yeah, of course she talked nonstop with Shika about Death and why they deserve more recognition as musicians when they hung out in that record store. But she would’ve never preceded this convenience.

“Wh…where did you..? How-“

“A friend of mine went to their concert and had his vinyl signed by the lead singer. He decided to give it to me for my birthday when he found out I had a record player at home.”

Shika smiled fondly at the awe in Temari’s eyes, and marveled at the way she raised her hands to hold the album only to hesitate when she’s inches away from its grasp.

“But I don’t have a record player.”

“I can always get you one, princess.”

Temari felt a heat pool in her cheeks and ears, as well as other places in her body she wasn’t yet consciously ready to acknowledge. She carefully wrapped her fingers around the smooth and crisp surface of the record, scanning the beautiful artwork and a ragged signature written by Bobby Hackney himself.

Shika never called you princess before.

4TH YEAR OF COLLEGE

It was a new year. You had 16 more classes to take for the next 12 months, a prerequisite for your bachelors in science. And even though the nurse’s state board takes place after your graduation, time has a tricky way of passing you by with the blink of an eye. So you studied and studied. Every day. You took care of patients. Every. Day. It wasn’t particularly healthy, but the hyperactivity distracted you. It distracted you from how unhappy you were: with your parents, with the way you saw yourself, with your career- even if you did everything necessary to become the best nurse that you knew you could be. Plus, if you were improving your skill set, who cares if you hadn’t properly slept in weeks? As long as you’d gotten smarter, as long as you helped save lives, you could neglect your own. 

On top of that you hadn’t hung out with your boyfriend in person for months, which was becoming a norm in your relationship. You always made sure to let him know when you were free, yet he always made sure to let you know he was too busy. You don’t talk on a weekly basis anymore, since Shikamaru continually missed your calls. He does text you to make up for it though. But it was fine. As soon as you graduated, you both could finally be together again and make up for lost time. You were sure that he was waiting too. You were sure he still missed you. He had to. You were positive because you felt the same way and because, well, you were dating each other.

It’s 9:30 pm and your last patient of the night, Marty, had finally managed to sleep after enduring a 3 hour absence seizure. You sat at the foot of the bed, eyes were reddened with dryness, back heavy and strained. But you refused to rest;: you needed to check for any recurring symptoms if he gets triggered in his sleep again.

“…ome on… y/n?”

You snap your head to the voice behind you, and it’s the head nurse you’re working under, Ms. Adams. You were so tired you didn’t even hear her walking in.

Ms. Adams frowned at your hunched state. “It’s okay y/n, we have computers monitoring him. You won’t be of any help if you're half-conscious anyway.”

You gulped dryly at her insistence and turned back to give Marty one last look, before nodding in defeat. You slowly pushed yourself from the bed and bid your mentor a good night. Before you could head out, she rested a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Good work today, y/n.” She casted a somber smile your way. “Good work as always, really. You’ll be a great nurse one day. I hope you know that.”

You looked down at your beaten up shoes.

“Thanks nurse Adams. G’night.”

-

You were in the locker room shrugging off your nurse uniform when you felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket. Your face beamed brighter than your screen when you saw your boyfriend’s name. Even though you weren’t done getting dressed, you refused to fumble the opportunity of hearing your lover’s voice after such a stressful day.

“Baby? Is that you?”

“Heyy… You busy right now?”

“No-no! Never too busy for you! I actually miss you... So much.”

Shikamaru side eyed his phone before pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“…Me too. And uhh…I know we haven’t been talking much for a long while and I’ve been thinking.”

You’ve been thinking too! You thought about all the dates you’re both gonna go on, all the sex you’re gonna have. You thought about all the weed you’re gonna smoke with him and all the stories you’ll tell him about your time spent as a nurse’s assistant. You thought about helping him move out of that shitty dormitory so that y’all can rent an apartment together. You thought about settling down together after you pass your state board with flying colors and Shika passing his exam so that he can finally be a real estate agent. You thought about him buying you both a permanent house after you get married and adopting two cats with a dog and spider. You’ve been thinking of so much too.

“I-I’ve been talking to someone else for the past few or so months. And I’m in love with her… And so I think we should… break up.”

…Huh?

…break up?

You wordlessly looked up at the ceiling, watching the painted patterns mold and blur together as you felt your eyes gloss over. You gulped once, twice, one more time for safe measure.

It had been two minutes since he divulged his confession, and you hadn’t said a wordnything. Shika’s knee was jutting up and down and up and down and up and down. Clenching his fist, he took a deep breath.

“Sorry that this was so sud-“

“Where are you.”

“…at home? Why?”

“I’m coming over.”

Shika’s eyes widened in horror at the ominous conviction in your tone. When you talk like that, your mind can't be changed.

“Wait, hold on-“

BEEP

-

BANG BANG BANG BANG

Your fist repeatedly hit Shika’s door, and it didn’t stop even after your shoulder started to feel sore.

“I’m coming, I'm coming!” Shika’s voice is muffled and drowned out by the cacophony you created.

As soon as he opened the door you barged through like a shadow someone would mistake for a demon in their closet. You yanked him by the collar and he winced at your unexpected strength.

“I gave you six years of my life- SIX YEARS!” Your screaming rang through the thin walls of the dormitory like a curse during the witch’s hour. You pushed him back, and kept pushing him until his legs hit the foot of the bed. Shika yelped when he stumbled on his back, and you took that chance to straddle his hips and look him dead in the eyes so you could confirm for yourself if this was what he actually wanted.

But Shika got a good look at you too, and he grimaced softly at the sight: your tear-stained face, the borderline mania in your blood-shot eyes, your knitted brows, your gritted teeth, your heaving breath that gently hit his mouth. You looked like whatever hope you clinged onto had disappeared. And that’s because he snatched it away. And now you were flailing helplessly on the jagged floor of your mind, like a baby who’s candy had been stolen. Like a bug who ended up stuck on its back. Like the tightrope you’d been tirelessly treading on your whole life had snapped again, while Shika watched you fall on the other side even though he promised he’d catch you. The other side that was never even in your grasp.

“Been dating behind my back, huh?” Your voice was shaky with adrenaline and vitriol. “For how long?”

“W-We haven’t dated yet, we're just friends… Y/n can we plea-“

“You fuckin’ her?”

The man beneath you scoffed petulantly at the fact that you’d even ask that. But that fuck ass nonchalance of his was not getting past you this time.

“ANSWER ME!” you roared as you violently shook his body to get it through his head, spit flew from your mouth and hit his face.

You were unrecognizable at this point. Shika needed to meet you halfway, he needed to calm you down somehow. He grunted frustratedly and grabbed your wrists to loosen your iron grip on him, but you wouldn’t budge. He used his other hand to hold the back of your head. Your breath hitched at the way he began to steadily stroke your hair.

“No, pea brain.” He mumbled sincerely. “Of course not.” Your eyes drooped at the pet name he gave you. He hasn’t called you that in ages. “That’s why I contacted you first, before anything escalated.”

Things have already escalated though, and now all he could do was tell you the truth. More tears fell from your eyes when you saw the tenderness in his gaze. No, you thought. It will not end like this.

“Let me fix this Shika,” your voice warbled with a devastating crack. “We can fix this.”

Man am I a shitty person, he thought. And an even shittier boyfriend.

“No, we can’t,” he sighed at how your bottom lip quivered desperately. “I just happened to realize it before you did.”

You loathed the way he was looking at you, the way he was handling you. Not because it was a ploy to get back in your good graces, but because you could tell he was being honest. And that made you resent him even more. But all you could do was melt in his embrace when he wrapped his arms around your torso, hugging you tightly as your body wracked with sobs.

“I may not love you like that anymore, but you’ve worked so hard for the both of us. And I’m sorry I made you find out this way.” He whispered gently against your ear, and felt your heartbeat pound against his chest as you wept endlessly.

“You’ll always be my greatest friend. I’m really sorry, y/n.”

You had never cried so hard the way you did that night. The one person who was your other half. The one person who’d known you the best and the longest, belonged to someone else now. And you were too high off the nostalgia of the sweet moments you both shared, because that’s what got you going. It’s what motivated you to work when all you wanted to do was sleep. It drove you to a certain madness that only bloomed from the scarcity of emotional safety. It was all you knew.

And you were fine with knowing only that. As long as he’d stay…

-

After that night, you took a week off from working at the hospital and decided to do your school work virtually for a while. You stayed cooped up in your house for so long that even your parents, of all people, noticed. You didn’t know how you were going to recover from this.

“Just hop on the next dick,” your other close friend, Ayesha, suggested while lighting up a blunt.

She decided to visit you after you called her bawling your eyes out while watching your favorite josei anime, Nana for the tenth time. An intervention was wayyy overdue. She cuddled beside you with your favorite snacks splayed on the bed. You almost choked on your coffee at her casual vulgarity, but you understood where she was coming from.

“…it’s not that simple,” you mumbled pitifully.

“Hell no it ain’t, but it’s a start. And fuck that nigga- if he can move on that quickly then so can you.”

A reluctant smile started to creep up your lips. Maybe she was right. There were plenty of people out there who’d treat you so much better than Shika did. You just needed to give yourself a try. Nonetheless, you groaned exasperatedly at the sheer energy that would take and placed your mug on your night stand.

“He’s my first love, tho-“

“And I’ll be good-goddamned if he’s your last... Look at me.”

You continued to look down at your fiddling fingers until you felt a soft hand tilt your chin sideways to face her.

“It’s not fair y/n,” you saw the passionate anger swimming behind Ayesha’s eyes. “You have no idea how much I hate seeing my best friend like this. You’re too kind, smart and beautiful to wallow in this pain.”

Before you knew it, you felt her thumbs wipe away stray tears from your cheeks. She stuffed the blunt in between your lips and crawled off of your bed. You watched her turn on your favorite music playlist and open your closet door right after. You inhaled a nice, deep drag of weed while curiously trying to make sense of your friend shuffling through your clothes.

“What are you doing?” You inquired while blowing smoke through your nose.

“Making sure you dress like a slut. We’re going out.”

POST-GRADUATION 

You had just become a nurse: after graduating with a bachelor's degree in science and microbiology, you passed the state board and received your certification. The one thing you slaved away for your entire academic life had finally been bestowed upon you, and the fact that your journey had only just begun never failed to boggle your mind.

Luckily you were mentored by a fine professional, so the trials and obstacles that came with your job weren't as surprising as you anticipated. You were prepared, and that’s one of the things you loved most about your journey. You had finally moved out of your parents’ house and rented an apartment of your own. The unlimited privacy was such a breath of fresh air, albeit lonesome. You felt ashamed for not enjoying the solitude, but a big part of you found it necessary for your growth.

You picked up and dropped many hobbies along the way, downloaded a handful of dating apps rancid with men feening for attention and the next heart to abuse. With the rare chances that you were free on your schedule, you dated here and there. Initially there was a thrill that came with it, meeting unique personalities, discovering what worked and what didn’t. The sex was… sex. Only 1 out of the 8-10 people you dated made you orgasm with penetration only and he was the worst fuck nigga you’d ever come across. It didn’t come close to the heartbreak that drove you to put yourself out there in the first place, but he was the catalyst to starting your inevitable celibacy.

So you deleted the dating apps and focused on you, and swore to yourself that when you do date it would be someone who would earn your trust. You even hung out with Ayesha more often and supported her businesses to help get your mind off of the three basic things you worried about on a daily basis.

You hadn’t talked to Shikamaru in 2 years, which was gruesome but needed. Throughout that time you always wondered if he truly missed you. Flashbacks of him would appear the most during dates and there was nothing more annoying than that to endure. At least you started taking therapy. Luckily, you were blessed with a great professional so you decided to make that a norm in your life ever since. The main thing that was so hard to accept about healing was that it got worse first. In every aspect.

-

One day, you were lounging on your couch while mindlessly scrolling through your social media feed. You were so bored and tired, temporary dopamine hits were the only way you had energy to spend your time. That was until a notification popped up on your screen: the notification being Shikamaru’s name.

First things first, why you never blocked him or deleted his contact was beyond you, rationally speaking. Subconsciously, you just couldn’t let go all the way.

You tossed your phone on the table beside you and sat up, staring into nothingness while attempting to process what you’d just witnessed. Your eye twitched when you heard another faint vibration come from your phone.

Is this man seriously texting me right now?

You closed your eyes and took a minute to prepare yourself for any and all impending doom looming from whatever information he’s relaying to you through those messages. You decided to think no further and snatched your device with a worried grunt, and opened the notifications.

It was an invitation.

An invitation to his engagement party…

Followed up with a text that said: It’d be great if you stopped by so we can catch up.

Your hand squeezed your phone tighter and tighter with every word that you read. Your first impulse was to tell him to fuck all the way off and that you hope his party gets ruined. Your next impulse was to ignore it forever and finally block him. The impulse after that was to play it cool and respectfully decline. And the impulse after that was to… scream in your pillow.

You called Ayesha instead. And after a 2 hour long conversation basically bashing your ex while fighting your crippling anxiety, none of that took away the fact that you missed him. You’ve always missed your friendship with him. It was arguably more fruitful than the romantic affairs you both shared because the feelings were consistently mutual. You didn’t have a sliver of doubt in your mind about it since he never gave you a reason to. He said so himself.

Ayesha did not approve of your decision to attend the party, she believed it’d just be setting you back years of growth. But you believed in yourself for once. You believed you could handle seeing him again.

-

You could not handle seeing him again. It was the evening of the engagement party, and you were still at home glaring yourself down in the mirror. Your hair was in natural twists at the time, a dainty orchid placed on the side of your head. You wore a silky white slip dress, the shiny satin draping over your curves and dark skin magnificently. You stepped in your matching white mid heels and snatched your purse before you changed your mind about this entire situation.

You reread Ayesha’s words of encouragement that she texted to you earlier that day, it was the only thing (besides already paying for your Uber) that kept you from turning right back around and throwing your ass in the bed.

When you made it to the destination, you looked up at the top floor to find that the party took place on a terrace. Once you were granted access, you took the elevator. Every minute that passed for the elevator to rise to the top floor churned your stomach to no avail. Goosebumps ravaged your skin with discomfort.

Why am I doing this to myself? You wondered solemnly. He’s getting married for fuck’s sake.

The sound of sleek metal doors opening snapped you out of your self-pitying trance. You stepped out of the elevator and the scenery was simply marvelous: the decorating lanterns, larger-than-life bouquets, and uniquely shaped furniture gave a fairytale-like feel to the event with its illuminating contrast to the night sky. Everyone followed the dress code, the tableware was exquisitely neat, free-form jazz players performed live on an intimate stage, servers carried fancy food with impeccable care. Pretty fitting for the budget of a successful real-estate agent.

You strolled tentatively into the crowd, for you didn’t really know anybody there besides one person. And there that one person was: socializing with his friends while his pretty bride-to-be latched onto his elbow. They were laughing together. They were happy.

“Fuck this shit,” you mumbled and turned your heel to head to the exit.

As you walked, you mentally beat yourself up, shamed yourself for feeding your ego and falling for nostalgia once again instead of taking Ayesha’s advice. You felt the presence of enthusiastic strangers pass you by, the smell of food wafting through your nose, the suave music thrumming in your ears. You’d enjoy it all if you could.

You raised your finger to press the elevator button, but jolted at the feeling of a warm and heavy hand grasping your shoulder. You swiftly turned your body, jaw slightly dropped at Shikamaru standing right in front of you.

He looked down at you with a hopeful glint in his eyes, a relieved smirk adorned his features. He had a new glow to him: his shoulders were relaxed with great posture, his hair grew longer. He was a bit bulkier and got rid of his lip ring. He looked healthy, rounder with contentment.

“Didn’t think you’d come.” His voice got deeper and raspier too.

A shaky sigh escaped you. “Me neither.”

Shika chuckled tentatively, he should’ve expected that.

“You look nice. Appreciate you for following the dress code.”

You nodded your head wordlessly, and looked down at your painted toes. “Yup.”

Your ex scratched the nape of his neck before sinking his hands into his pockets.

“How’ve you been, y/n?”

You blinked a couple times at his tone. It sounded somber and sincere, which is kind of unusual since he’s used to covering up how he really feels about certain things. At least he bothered to ask.

“As well as I can be… I’m a nurse now.”

“Heh, not surprising. I always knew you’d succeed.”

“I guess I can say the same for you. Is selling houses really as fun as it sounds?”

He grimaced teasingly. “Have you even met me?”

You giggled helplessly at his honesty. Shika’s gaze softened at the sound of your laugh, the curve of your smile. You may not have known it, but you were glowing too. In your own y/n way.

“There’s some people I want you to meet. Are you open to it?”

You tapped your chin in faux thought, and revelled in the uneasiness that laced his stare.

“Sure, why not?” You chirped.

An exhale of relief settled the tension in his chest, and he led you to his associates. You met his fellow real estate agents, stock brokers and business owners. They were all nice, but a little handsy- you were not used to multiple men flirting with you at once. A waitress served you a glass of champagne, you politely thanked her and let the chilled alcohol stream down your throat.

You were getting a bit overstimulated from interacting with so many people, you appreciated Shika for being by your side but you honestly needed some quiet. 

“Hey Shika,” you mumbled.

He leaned closer to block out the extra noise. “Yeah?”

“I’m gonna go chill by the balcony.”

He gave you a look of understanding and nodded conclusively. “Let me know if you need anything.”

You gave him a thumbs up. “Will do.”

The breeze was warm yet crisp, you appreciated the way it blew through your hair and skin. After sitting the glass of champagne on a small table beside you, you folded your arms and sat on a plush chair. You looked up at the black canvas of the sky, involuntarily searching for stars as you managed to drown out the background chatter and unwanted sound. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Maybe you could handle this, and maybe you are happy for Shika. Maybe it won’t hurt as much anymore.

-

Temari saw you chatting with her husband-to-be. You were beautiful. Stunning, even, and she disliked how the spit in her mouth was starting to taste like bile. She decided to fraternize with her own friends for a bit, but the way you both got along so seamlessly, even after a shitty breakup was more telling of your bond than she’d ever be comfortable with admitting. Eventually, she caught you heading towards the edge of the terrace where you sat to indulge in whatever world your mind created. Without thinking, she excused herself from her peers, straightened her back and walked towards you in confident strides.

You perked up at the sound of a chair in front of you sliding against the wooden floor, until your mouth sagged into a subtle frown at the sight of Shikamaru’s fiancée. She took her seat with a curt sigh and folded her hands on her lap. Your eyes had met for the first time that night. Her gaze sharpened with blazing intent, though it wasn’t malicious. Not in the slightest. You looked at her with a sense of peaceful mellowness, almost awestruck. Why you gave her that look, she didn’t know, but it made her feel like she could soften her guard. Just a bit.

“We haven’t properly met. I’m Temari, Shikamaru’s future wife.”

You took a sip of your drink. You wanted to snap back with a witty remark, but you knew that would serve you absolutely nothing. “Yeah, I gathered that.”

She was impressed with the way you maintained eye contact with her, and decided to proceed with this interaction. 

“Do you know why I allowed my fiancée to invite you to our party?”

You set your glass down with a burp and slouched against the cushion of your chair. You were gonna need another drink. “Enlighten me.”

Temari unfolded her hands and fiddled with her engagement ring. “A few months ago, I caught him staring at a picture of you and him back in middle school. He’d tell me stories of the childhood memories you both shared with a certain fondness. Would you be happy if I said I was quite envious?”

“Not at all,” you waved off with a hand. “And if I’m being honest, you shouldn’t be.”

The woman before you leaned forward to get a closer look at you. “Enlighten me.”

“Because he was an insufferable child,” you deadpanned.

“Really?”

“Nah, he was chill.”

Temari lifted a brow at your humor and snorted. You lolled your head to the side and rested your chin on an open palm. 

“Either way, he loved you enough to choose you as his wife. That’s all that matters now.”

Temari slowly but surely started to understand why Shika befriended you. Even more so why he still wanted you in his life. She mirrored your lax posture and sank into her seat. She wanted to ask questions about your break up but that was none of her concern and she didn’t want to trigger a painful memory.

“You matter too, y’know?”

“Which is exactly why I pondered on why I even came here.”

“Because you’re a supportive friend.”

“Hmph…” you idly held your torso while cradling your empty glass. Temari noticed the somber weight your eyes held and decided to call for a waiter.

Once they came, she ordered 1 glass of wine for herself and one refill for you. 

“Would you like anything to eat, y/n?” That was the first time she addressed you by your name.

You gulped and requested your food choice, deciding to make yourself more comfortable. While you both waited for service, you began asking each other questions about yourselves rather than continue talking about your respective histories with the same man. You surprisingly had a lot in common and to Temari’s delight, you were the first person to make her guffaw obnoxiously with teary eyes from your jokes alone. Y’all even exchanged numbers at some point.

Your rowdy conversations were quite the head-turners and felt yourselves getting quite tipsy with liquor. But the genuine enjoyment of each other’s company was much stronger. You didn't notice Shika staring at you both with golf balls for eyes. The two most important women in his life were getting along so well all of a sudden, which was not a predicament he’d ever considered witnessing.

The party began to wrap up, and Shika and Temari offered to give you a ride home since the air was starting to get chilly. You meekly obliged, feeling a bit foreign in the personal space of their car.

You were gonna give Ayesha an earful when you got home.

This work belongs solely to ©️ blimbosworlddd. Do not plagiarize, steal, copy or repost. I worked very hard on this; reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated.

[strawbrygashez]

Fillmore headcanons because I love him 👽🛸

•Autistic & ADHD

•When he was little he actually was really scared of aliens and all those ‘serious’ conspiracy theories he saw on TV but somehow ended up becoming fondly obsessed with them. He does overplay it in front of others for the lols but he genuinely does believe in a lot of what he says.. it’s weird.

•Used to self h*rm by cutting and burning himself. Now when he burns himself it’s more than likely an accident because he’s seriously clumsy.

•Speaking of being clumsy, his hands are usually shaking and he forgets how lanky he is sometimes and he’s just not aware of what he’s doing with his body often. During each and every UFO group meet up, he manages to fall off his chair at least once especially when he works himself up.

•He was really lonely in high school. A lot of people avoided him basically bc of his undiagnosed mental illnesses. Pim was really the only peer of his who would listen to his stories in awe instead of telling him to shut up or calling him a freak. (Even though Pim definitely doubted some of what Fillmore told him, Pim never was rude to him. He was happy that Fillmore seemed happy to be able to talk about his interests without being shut down for once)

•He loves cheesy horror movies. While conspiracy documentaries certainly get his attention, he secretly prefers old horror movies with bad effects, dialogue and all that good stuff because it lets him shut his brain off for a bit.

•He’s quick to jump to conclusions in situations not even involving the paranormal and whatnot. Like if one of the club members had to leave a bit earlier than usual he’s like “Oh. Okay. You probably hate me and that’s why you’re leaving. goodbye.” 💀 It’s fairly easy to explain to him what’s actually going on though.

Kinda going along with this, he can be pretty blunt even to strangers.

•I think it would be interesting if he lived in a little trailer home on farmland or something.. while his friends are in the city.

•He texts like he’s scene. Yknow like 0_o xD (^_^) xP :P >_>

•He has horrible hand writing. Part of it’s due to his shaky hands but also he just likes to make his writing huge for some reason.

•I dunno why but I just see him being a blanket hog. Or just owning tons of blankets. Like if you knocked at his door, he’d probably come to it with 3 blankets wrapped around him. He gets cold easy.

•He rarely eats actual meals. For the most part he just snacks or heats up TV dinners unless a friend offers to cook something for him.

•He has a staring problem.

•He loves setting things on fire. He’s tossing basically whatever he can get his hands on into the little fires they make sometimes during meetings. He’ll also just watch the flames for hours if no one interrupts him.

•Not the biggest fan of Charlie since he reminds him a lot of the kids who would tell him to shut up growing up :/ but since he’s important to Pim, he’ll put up with Charlie’s complaints.

•Okay this last one is gonna be Gnarly/Fillmore because I wanna have some fun.. I shared before I think they went to school together and that Fillmore has/had a crush and blah blah blah. Anyways, in present time, if he sees Gnarly in public (before they maybe become friends again or more) he basically straight up follows him around a bit 💀 and tries to make conversation. Even if Gnarly is only giving vague replies like “uh-huh”, he’s still bothering him. He’s fidgeting with his own hands while trying to keep Gnarly engaged. He really wants Gnarly to like him because he thinks he’s so cool :,)

[the1975attheirverybest]

hes just being messy, he was with meredith in la last wednesday and then now is like very public with gab. i actually feel pretty bad for meredith, the unfollow makes me think she thought they were more serious than they were. i dont think dating casually is a crime but all parties should at least be on the same page 😕 (no need to post this just telling you)

I’m very confused by all this and I guess y’all really don’t understand boundaries, respect, or consent. But since I’ve deleted just about 40 asks about this in the past 48 hours or so, fine. I guess we are talking about this. (Not directed at you alone or anything just my general feelings on the subject and on the fandom.) you wanna talk about Matty’s love life? Let’s talk about it.

Matty is 34 years old. Which means he’s well above the legal age of consent and, yeah, god help him, as a cis straight man, he do be acting like an absolute child sometimes, BUT it’s his life. His decisions to make.

From everything that we know about him, and especially after the ENTIRE FUCKIN WORLD turned against him over the summer, he is a lot more kind, compassionate, smart, self-aware, gentle, and pure-hearted than anyone’s ever given him credit for. Even his own fans. Say what you will about Matty Healy, but if it were me, in his shoes, I’d feel more than entitled to be Turner bitter towards the public what with the way we all (yes, we, as his fans too) have been treating him. But NOPE. Matty is a way bigger person than most of us. He didn’t say a damn thing. He kept his mouth shut and his head down and he did what he needed to do, he never let any of it deter him from being vulnerable and honest with us and putting on the best fuckin show that he could possible put on every fuckin night.

If that doesn’t earn him the benefit of the doubt then I don’t know what will.

I’m not sure why or when some of us have decided that it is our place to observe what goes on in his love life, to monitor his following/followers lists, to draw conclusions based on those numbers, or to consume public glimpses of his interior life as if it’s some tv show or movie or reality tv, even when those images are taken without his consent, and decide Meredith is not “marriage material” or Gabriette has “an aesthetic that I can finally get behind” (which, by the way, is a very sexist and disgusting thing to say about them as well as Matty, but I guess this fandom is hypocritical and will turn against its own values as soon as Matty Healy’s dick is involved), but at some point apparently that happened and we started to treat him as less than human.

Fine, fine, I’ll even give you that much. Be sexist. Be judgmental and creepy and all up his ass. But to do all that and then “feel sorry for Meredith” call him a “mess”??? When you LITERALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED BETWEEN THEM?!!!!! How do know she thought it was more serious than it is??? Were you there??? Since we’re making judgements and assumptions based on the tiny fragments that we see, I’m gonna go ahead and make a judgment of my own and say since I didn’t see you in the middle holding one of his hands and one of hers, then you weren’t there. So why do you feel qualified to talk about what he may or may not have done??? Do you know him? Is he your bestie???? Did he confide in you??? Hmm? Fuckin tell me!!!!

To summarize: he’s a form of entertainment to you. You don’t care about his boundaries. And you have such a low opinion of him that (despite him proving in what is objectively one of the worst things to happen to a public figure, that he’s endlessly graceful and kind) you will comfortably assume the worst of him without A SHRED OF ANYTHING REMOTELY RESEMBLING EVIDENCE. So….why are you a fan? Hmm? Why do you feel comfortable supporting someone you think so little or and have no respect for as a human being?

If any of you really think “he deserve love” and “he deserves companionship.” Then you’d shut the fuck up, stop engaging with content that commodities and dehumanizes him, and mind your fuckin business for fucks sakes.

I mean, how would you like it if, based on a 7 second story on Instagram, or a tweet you made about your personal life or whatever, I (somehow who knows absolutely nothing about you) came up to you and was like “omg I noticed so and so has unfollowed you. Then two days later you posted a pic with this other person. You must have really crushed someone’s heart and led them on making them believe you were more serious than you actually were. And now you’re using this other person who appeared in a picture with you. That is concerning behavior my friend.” If you’re okay with me doing that to you then you and I must live wildly different realities.

[bureau-of-mines]

Fursona Greasing 101

I've had a lot of asks about how to properly maintain a fursona from an engineering-technical standpoint recently, and as much as I'd like for this blog to become the Car Talk (TM) of fursona maintenance, sometimes it's easier to cover everything in one larger text post. There's not a lot of generalized documentation for this sort of thing out there, and since the mid-90's a lot of fursona manufacturers have skimped on letting consumers know how to properly maintain their fursonas, so we have a lot of ground to cover. Today we're going to start with one of the most fundamental topics: fursona greasing.

Let's start off with a question I get almost daily:

how much grease is too much?

The short answer for this is that it varies by fursona, climate, and temperament. A sergal in an arctic environment will need more grease than a Dutch Angel Dragon is an arid one, and a Canine in a forest will probably be somewhere in between the two. So there's not really a good answer. Experimenting on your fursona is always a safe bet, as long as you're careful and never go overboard.

As a general rule of thumb, if you're starting to see excessive grease buildup around joints, or large patches of grease on the outside of your fursona, you're adding too much. And contrary to popular belief, excessive greasing can cause overheating, especially if allowed to penetrate into sensitive areas like electrical motor windings and heating coils. Always be sure to check electrical circuits and other sensitive areas in close proximity to greasing points when you're first experimenting with greasing your fursona.

Conversely, it's also all too easy to not add enough grease to your fursona. I know many people that claim that their fursonas have run fine for years on a quick pump or two of grease every other month, but when those same sonas come in for 50k running hour overhauls, the bills usually exceed what it would have cost them in time and effort to put a little bit more care into greasing their fursonas on a regular, responsible time schedule. Insufficient greasing can cause excessive wear, and allowing dirty grease to remain in your fursona can also cause issues, as grease's ability to protect your fursona degrades over time as the complex chemicals inside of it break down and the grease picks up impurities.

If you have a newer fursona with an integrated maintenance manager, and you're still getting used to how it operates, it's worth your while to adjust the automated service interval reminder to somewhere in the ballpark of 2-4 weeks during the initial breakin period of 6 months, after which you can start expanding it into the usual 3 month maintenance cycle you see on most "run-in" fursonas.

If you have an older fursona, or a cheaper one without an automated system associated with it, it never hurts to "pop the hood" and compare the color of the grease currently inside your fursona with new, fresh grease straight from the tube. If the colors appear drastically different, it might be time to freshen your fursona's grease.

I also get a lot of questions about specific types of grease, so to cover most of those I'm going to give some shorter answers to generic questions.

do I really need to use arctic grease during the winter?

That depends entirely on where you live and the internal body heat of your fursona, as well as if you intend to shut down your fursona for long periods of time in colder weather. Arctic grease usually contains a variety of anti-freezing and anti-coagulating agents to help protect the grease itself from breaking down in adverse temperatures. These can help if you need to start your fursona regularly during the winter months, or if you're intending to have it ready for emergency use.

which is better, synthetic or natural grease?

This also depends on where you are and what's available to you. I've seen people with the exact same species in the exact same climate swear in opposite directions on this question, but personally I prefer natural, petroleum based greases. It's for you to decide, especially based on what's available to you.

can I use cosmoline as grease?

I know folks, sadly I get asked this a lot. Cosmoline is not a grease, it's a paraffin based protective sealant for long term storage. If you have an old heirloom fursona, or you're hiding one in the woods for when fursonas eventually become illegal, then Cosmoline or heavier derivatives are your best bet. Despite the Soviet connotations of Cosmoline as a concept, many American industries use chemicals that are functionally the same and vary only in name and color. Regardless, it's a terrible grease, but an excellent preservative. I've seen several fursonas from the Franco-American war that have survived to this very day in pristine condition thanks to liberal coatings of paraffin sealant.

what do I do with my used fursona grease?

Any used fursona grease can be properly disposed of at a local automobile shop. There may also be local buyers with an interest in collecting fursona grease, who may be willing to pay money for your used fursona grease. Always check local regulations first.

Finally, some very important safety tips.

Always remember to fully shut down your fursona before greasing it. Some models may need to fully cool down before it's safe to grease them.

Always review manufacturer safety manuals before greasing your fursona, and never use grease that's incompatible with your fursona.

Always know exactly how much grease you're putting into your fursona, and carefully monitor it during operation for leaks and spills. Excessive grease build up, inside or outside of your fursona, can lead to a fire.

Do not eat, drink or smoke while greasing your fursona. Doing so may cause accidental fursona grease ingestion, which can cause a variety of health issues.

Stay safe, and have fun greasing your fursona!

[zekeodile]

- Nighttime confessionals || Terzo x AMAB!Reader -

@cowgremlin

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Word count: 2,796

Character Count: 15,257 ----------------------------------------------------

You are my moon, mi amore.

You had never been close to the elusive man. Every past attempt to get more than a passing conversation had not gone as planned, and you had all but given up hope. Terzo, or otherwise affectionately known as Papa III, had always interested you in more ways than one. He was humorous on stage, as you had seen in some of his recent performances, and he always made you chuckle. Not to mention he was good-looking. Alas, you were never able to get more than a few words in to him.

But now, as he stood there in the doorway of your quarters, disheveled from restless sleep and a certain look in his eye, you begin to think you may have a chance to get very up close and personal tonight.

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

It was well into the night when you heard the knock on your door. Dragged from your dream, which you already couldn't remember, you let out a noise to alert the person on the other side that you were coming. A strangled groan escapes your throat as you stretch out your sleep-stiff body, shuffling to the door as you lazily pull on a robe. You never wore much, for the old satanic church was kept hot for some odd reason, so the robe was the modest choice while still saving yourself from the warmth.

You were more than surprised to find Terzo at the door, his hair a mess and his eyes dark with some myriad of different thoughts or feelings. "Ah- Papa, what wakes you at such an hour?" You ask, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "It's- lord below, what time is it?" You paw for your phone, which of course wasn't on you.

"It's almost one in the morning, prestante, I checked." His voice brings you back to attention. You never did understand everything he said, especially when he spoke in his mother tongue. Even if it was just little phrases or words, you could never figure out the meaning, though it always made you blush. Of course, he said these things to everyone, but it just sparked little butterflies inside you every time it was directed specifically to you. "May I come in, fratello?" Okay, that meant brother, you knew that one. All followers were called brother, sister, sibling, and so on so forth. You must have gotten lost in thought, since Terzo waved his hand in front of your face to bring you back once again.

You feel your ears grow hot with embarrassment as you nod, stepping aside to let the man in. This is one of the only times you have seen him without his paint, and you had to say, it was almost exactly what you imagined. Dear Satan, if only you could see this when you were more awake.

As the door shuts, you turn to face him. "So, what can I do for you, Papa? You never did answer my first question as to why you were awake." You're shocked to see that when you finally focus on the man, he is already removing his undershirt, which usually went under his uniform, but he had decided to sleep in.

"There is quite a lot you can do for me, fratello. I've noticed how I catch your eye, how your gaze lingers," his voice was a mere coo, soft and silky as he glanced over his shoulder in your direction. "I've had enough of playing coy. You should know that I find you quite the looker. I want you." He stated simply, the three ending words sticking in your mind and making your heart thump in your chest.

"At this hour? Papa- I'm awfully flattered." It was all you could muster. Your desire for Terzo was resurging, you could feel it deep in the pit of your stomach, rising into a hot need. "I just-" You were cut short as a warm finger pressed over your lips. Soon, his thumb dragged over your lower lip as his pointer held your chin.

"Hush now. We have time to talk later, caro." He gave you a devilish grin that sent a shiver straight to your groin. You heard yourself utter a 'yes Papa' before you hungrily captured his lips in a heated kiss. The raven-haired man let out a groan, his grip on your chin loosening for a moment as he tried to regain control of things. Something about Papa you had noticed was that he exuded dominating energy. Hell, it practically oozed off of him while he was on stage. But now? Now he was at your submission, giving up hope of domination and just sinking into the heat of the kiss. The air around you was filled with soft groans and sighs as you snaked your hands around the man, coming to rest one against the small of Terzo's back as the other found its home on his sharp hip.

It didn't take long before you both found yourself in bed, a tangle of legs and sheets as Terzo squirmed under you, his voice reduced to almost desperate mewls as you ground against him. Your mouth sloppily trailed kisses all along his neck, down to his collar, and to his chest, which was peppered with thin black hair. You had just found a rhythm when you released a startled groan from your throat. Terzo had slid his hand down your front to your crotch, where his palm ground itself into your hardened arousal. "Satanas- fuck, Papa.." You stuttered out, your eyes shut tight as you eagerly pressed your hips forward. "Very good, caro.." He praised beneath you, his voice sending a feeling of calm through your body, but with that came a sudden primal urge to just devour the man as he grinned under your body.

"Undress for me." You practically demanded this, which made the pale man's eyes widen slightly. He chuckled out, staring up at you with such a lustful gaze that it could make anyone melt.

"You wish is my command, fratello." Papa cooed, unzipping his pants with deliberate slowness as to mentally and almost physically torture you. Thinking about it, him sleeping in his dress pants was odd. Then again, he seemed as though he had planned this all out. He wanted to fuck with your mind, make you hunger for his body. Terzo's plan was definitely working, because you were starving, craving him.

The light that seeped in through the curtains illuminated Papa's body, showing off every subtle curve and dip in the skin. You couldn't keep your eyes off of him. "You are my moon, mi amore." He murmured after a moment, watching your gaze with gentle eyes.

"Then you are my stars." You return, removing the man's pants after he had gotten distracted. You give a tug to his boxers, allowing the man's erection to be freed from its constraints. A groan escapes Terzo's lips, his eyes fluttering slightly as he lifted his hips to aid you in undressing him. "I've always imagined you like this... Now that I have you, it's surreal." You sigh out, your eyes raking over his moonlit body.

"You've fantasized about me, si?" A chuckle forms deep in his chest. "My my, you are a dirty boy." His hand begins to roam, stroking himself at the base of his arousal. "I can't say I haven't thought about you, either. Your beautiful body always hides under those clothes of yours. I can't help but be curious..." Terzo tilted his head, his eyes half-lidded and his gaze sweet as you palm yourself over your undergarments. "Expose yourself to me, fratello, show your need to your Papa." You didn't even hesitate anymore. You removed yourself from your boxers, watching Terzo's eyes light up with surprise and sudden, hot desperation. "My lord, caro, would you look at what you've been hiding from your Papa." He cooed, his voice adopting a slight quiver as you thumb close to your head, the tip glistening with forming precum.

You feel a grin pull at your lips as you lean to grab lubricant from your bedside table. "Well, you've been hiding your entire being from me... I'd say we're even now, Papa." You tease, pouring some of the slick liquid onto your fingers. "Now, tell me just how you like it." You smile as you circle a slicked-up digit at Terzo's tight entrance. A shivering moan leaves the man, and you feel him press down against you.

"Just- get to it already... I need to feel those skillful fingers..." He pleaded. In the past, when you had done more work with your hands that involved several things like papers or sorting, you had noticed how Papa would observe you. Indeed, you did have a way with your hands, but didn't believe he had noticed.

You slip your finger inside the man as he let out a sweet sigh. "Demanding much?" You tease yet again, your cock twitching at the sound of the man's voice. It doesn't take long for Terzo to silently beg for your second digit, his eyes wide as shockwaves of pleasure ripple up his spine. You listen to his pleading eyes as you almost force the second finger inside, eliciting a gasp and whimper from Terzo. "There... Happy?" You coo. "You're being a good boy for me, Papa."

"Call me Terzo, please- enough with formalities..."

"If I'm going to call you Terzo, then you better sing my praises, beautiful." You grin, stroking up your length as you search for the man's spot. During your search, you make sure to stretch him out in preparation for your cock. Hearing his desperate moans fueled your urges, his back arching and his thighs trying to shut around his erection to get any type of friction that wasn't from his hands.

"I will- oh caro- dear Satan-" Another moan cut him off, his hips bucking up as your fingers finally met his spot. He could feel himself already coming undone, the heat in his stomach pooling til he felt he was going to burst. "Mhh... Please, more, I beg of you. I've always dreamed of this," he confessed, "I've spent so many nights touching myself over you, your very image ruins me."

Hearing this made your fingers speed up, rubbing relentlessly against the bundle of nerves in his walls as Terzo let out a string of desperate, high-pitched moans. "Then why did you ignore me all this time, Terzo? Your beauty is enchanting, it was so hard to stay away."

Terzo seemed to debate a response in his head, his thoughts cut off by your skillful and long fingers. "I- fuck- I was afraid to get close, in fear of never being able to let go."

Oh, it was on now.

The air was hot and heavy as it surrounded you both, almost suffocatingly so. You swiftly removed your fingers, pulling a whine from the writhing man below you. "Nows the time for all the closeness in the world, I'm not going to lose you now..." In a hushed tone, you caress Terzo's cheek with a gentle touch. Watching how he leaned into you, his eyes catching yours and delivering a lustful gaze, you know the time has finally come to make this man yours.

"I will treat you well, I promise." You assure him, taking the time to spread lubricant along your length and ensure you're thoroughly coated in the slick substance before dragging Papa close. The raven-haired man watched with an anxious stare, itching to just feel you already. As the head of your cock pressed to his entrance, a shivering moan was drawn from Terzo's lips. He suddenly tugged you close with a leg, wrapping it tight around your waist to bring you in to the hilt. A moan escapes you both, his a slightly higher octave than your own. Terzo leans his head back to stare up at the ceiling, clutching your hair in his hands as he feels just how well you fill him. Every inch of his inside is absolutely stuffed, and it's obvious just how much he loves it from the look on his face.

You felt the man adjust around you as you slowly started your even tempo. Starting off slow gave Terzo the chance to relax and ease into the feeling. Watching his face twist and contort at the waves of pleasure put a smile on your face, your gaze soft as you once again began your search for his spot. Terzo's sweet moans grew louder in your ear, filling the silence that encased the rest of the room. You take the chance to bite gently on his neck, like an animal taking hold of its prey to claim for itself. This action drew yet another moan from the man below you, the tone alone urging you on.

As you suddenly bucked your hips into his spot, you drive on at a harder pace, sending shockwaves through Terzo's already quivering body. "Oh, caro- you fuck like you've had practice..." Papa groaned, his warm hand wrapping around his member as his back formed a nice arch.

"Maybe I have, but no one I could bed compares to you, Terz'..."

"They better not- I want to be the only one from now on..." He trailed off for a moment before looking into your eyes, a hint of anxiety hidden behind their mesmerizing complexity. "Please, fratello. Grant me that wish... It is all I desire."

Your hardened expression softened at his words, his pleas. After a slow inhale, you lean down to give him a gentle kiss, catching his lips and locking together with him. "I promise you, you'll be my one and only from this night onward..." That seemed to make him happy, a smile tugging at his lips. "Now let me make love to you, my star..." You cooed, rubbing his jaw as your other hand gave his hip a light squeeze

"Please do..." Was all Terzo could muster, his mouth hanging open as you rubbed against the tight bundle of nerves once again. The speed of your hips slowed once again, but you stuck to the rougher thrusts. A low groan bursts past your lips as Terzo's walls tightened around you, practically begging for your seed. With every thrust, Papa could feel his climax slowly rising, the muscles in his stomach taught and rippling as his body jolted with each passing wall of delight. Lord, if there was a heaven, it had to be this, bathing in what little moon was peeking through the window while the two of you showed some of the purest forms of love possible in the given situation.

"Keep it up, caro... I'm so close already..." Terzo panted out, his voice soft and dripping with sweetness. "I never want this to end..."

"It's okay... Cum for me, beautiful, let your being come unraveled under me." You whisper against his skin as you press loving kisses to Papa's chest. Dragging your warm tongue across his skin, you taste the salt of his sweat, sharp against your taste buds. It was delicious, you could practically eat the man whole. You bit down on his chest, pulling a keen from his throat as he stroked himself to completion. Warm strings of cum shot onto his stomach, dripping from the head of his cock as he let out overstimulated whimpers.

His noises drove you mad. You gently pulled him closer, catching him in another kiss as you pushed in as deep as possible, burying yourself inside the man's heat as you released. A groan finds its way into the kiss, muffled by your joined mouths.

As Terzo pulled away, a blissful smile took place of his orgasmic expression. "I've never felt anything better, caro... You do more than please me. I would give anything to be eternally yours."

"Then stay a while, be with me tonight... Having you here is something I've craved for a long time..." You too made your confession, having it be one of the many made during your time with the man.

"I believe that can be arranged." He whispered, relaxing for you to pull out.

After a short time spent on clean up, the two of you clambered back into bed and fell against each other, dragging the other into a bundle of warmth and security. The smell of sex was strong, but a welcomed scent. It was intoxicating, filling your nose as you nuzzled it against Terzo's hair.

"Terzo?" You ask after silence had just taken hold of the air.

"Yes, caro?"

A pause, almost searching for the words.

"I love you."

Not skipping a beat, Terzo plants a kiss on your collarbone. "I love you too, mi amore."

[memwazz]

SEVEN Backstories - Cat and Aloïs :

The Marshall Effect

"I had chatted with this man for less than a quarter of an hour, but it felt like I'd just been blown by a hurricane. 'Guess it was the Marshall Effect. "

Here's another flashback for my story SEVEN : Division United, but it's written and not drawn this time !

The story is from Cat's viewpoint and tells how she met her future boyfriend Aloïs when she was still working as a cashier in a small grocery store.

"Nothing interesting had happened in my life for the last two years and it wasn’t quite surprising. I mean, what could happen to an average girl working at a quiet little grocery store to pay off her student loan? This place was about to close permanently because it barely worked anyway. 

 The evening shifts especially, were the most boring times of the week. My manager usually left at eight, then no customer would ever come and I was doomed to wait at the checkout for an hour, if not more. 

It was until he appeared from nowhere. Never saw him before – or trust me, I would have remembered. On a rainy Thursday evening a tall, well-mannered man in a suit walked in, exactly twenty minutes before the closure. Nothing unusual at the beginning, yet I kept my eyes on him because I had nothing else to do. 

Then he started zigzagging between the shelves, walking past the same ones again and again. He was probably lost since it seemed to be his first time here. 

I glanced at the nonexistent queue and stood up to leave the desk. Helping that guy would keep me busy for the next five minutes and it was exactly what I was looking for. 

“Hello. Can I help you?” I asked when I reached him. 

He startled like he hadn’t heard me coming and turned around with a confused look. 

“Hi, uh, what do you mean ?”

“You look a bit lost, I was wondering if you were looking for anything specific.”

He shook his head. 

“I’m not lost,” he replied in a distant tone. “I just have… patterns.”

“Oh, fine then, I’m sorry I bothered you.”

He politely nodded and started shopping again, then I got back to my desk. 

The man finally returned while I was eagerly staring at the clock. Right after the cashing and when he was about to leave, there were only two minutes left before we closed. 

“Just in time,” I smiled. “Guess you’re lucky.”

“It’s no chance,” he said, “I calculated. Good evening.”

After he was gone and during the whole closing, I kept thinking of how special this encounter was. 

But as busy as I was, I quickly forgot about it. Until the very next Thursday, when the same man came again… exactly twenty minutes before the close. “No chance,” I immediately thought, “just calculations.”

When he came up to me, he was queuing alone again, standing without a word. The silence quickly embarrassed me for an unknown reason so I took a deep breath and thought about something to say. He was the only person I could even talk to anyway. 

“So, uh,” I awkwardly asked, “did you just move nearby? I’ve only seen you twice.”

“Not at all,” he answered, “I’ve been in Departown for years. I just…” he paused, looked away and scratched his neck, almost troubled. “Not that I like changing my habits but I had to. The shop I used to go to stopped selling Worcestershire sauce. It felt like a treason so I decided I would never come back.”

I blinked and kept quiet for a second, then laughed openly thinking it was a joke. Who would ever feel betrayed by a grocery store ? 

But the man stared at me with a straight face and I immediately felt stupid. Was it for real? If so, my laugh had probably sounded like a mockery. I blushed and apologized but my customer stood silent and kept looking away. What a fucking faux pas. 

While scanning his items, I wondered what I should do. Shut the fuck up for the next three minutes or just keep chatting like nothing happened? 

I decided to fight my talkative temper and focused on these carefully aligned articles. But my extreme concentration quickly got troubled by a strange feeling of déjà-vu. Like the cashing was occurring the exact same way as the previous week. Was it by chance or… calculations? 

A sentence suddenly came back to my mind: “I have patterns”. It was probably the key so I attentively stared at my screen looking for the said pattern. And it hit me like a flash. 

“Is that…”

“Alphabetic order?” the man guessed. “Yes.”

Surprised to see my intuition confirmed, I quickly checked the screen again. The last articles from the list were indeed vanilla, wheat bread, – an indecent quantity of – white vinegar and… of course, Worcestershire. I couldn’t hold back a smile. 

“Wow. Impressive.”

Despite his face being inexpressive, he looked kind of satisfied when I pronounced this word. I smiled again, he politely greeted me, walked away and disappeared behind the automatic doors. Two minutes before the closing.

Never in my boring life had I ever met such a singular customer. Not that it was unpleasant, on the contrary: not only had he saved me from my monotonous Thursday evenings, but I also liked our unique interactions. 

No need to say this man was in my mind every shift I worked. My stupid brain even started nicknaming him. From then on, he would be Mr. Worcestershire and I was looking forward to seeing him again. 

To my disappointment, he didn’t come back the next week and my Thursday shift was longer than ever. I didn’t even know why I was that upset: what was I expecting from a man I had only met twice ? Not everyone goes shopping every week anyway. Still, it felt like something was missing.

Fortunately, he quickly showed up again: same day, same time. Seeing him at my desk brightened my evening and I greeted him thoughtlessly: 

“Mr. Worcestershire! Long time no see!”

Crap. I felt stupid again. What was I thinking, calling him by that dumb nickname out loud? I blushed in shame, expecting him to be offended; but he just raised an eyebrow, half-surprised, half-embarrassed, hundred percent serious.

“It must be a mistake," he told me. “My name’s Aloïs Marshall.”

I hushed for almost a minute, taking the time to swallow my shame and the fact that he had totally missed the point. Maybe it was for the better.

“Catherine Harris,” I bounced back. “But Cat’s more than enough!”

“Nice to meet you, Cat.”

What I read as a slight smile surprised and pleased me at the same time. Maybe he liked our interactions too. 

The next few weeks seemed to prove my point. Aloïs stopped coming twenty minutes early, but twenty-five then thirty so we would have more time to chat. I learnt he had just passed the bar and was planning to become a lawyer. He liked clocks, played piano, had a brother and a kitten. 

It wasn’t much information – to be honest, it was most of the time just me sharing my day and him quietly listening – but I was grateful to know them. This man looked distant, secretive and obviously wasn’t a talker: seeing him gradually open up had something soothing. After our weekly small talks became an established routine, my impression of bothering him and talking too much completely faded away. 

Then came this Thursday when something obviously looked wrong. I was waiting for my only, faithful eight pm customer and as time went, I honestly thought he would not show up. But he did, twenty minutes late. 

Late? I would have never thought Aloïs was physically able to be late. He was in a rush, almost running in the alleys, looking completely lost although he was supposed to know the store like the back of his hand. When he reached the checkout, I noticed his shirt collar was unusually loose, his hair tousled and his skin pallid. 

“A-are you okay?” I asked, worried.

“Yes,” Aloïs’ tone was tense, almost cold.

His shaking voice troubled me even more but I did not dare insist. He turned his eyes away from me, said no more words, we didn’t chat and he left in a hurry.

After his hasty departure, it took me almost a minute to be able to move again. Something serious was going on but I didn’t know what nor how to help. 

I inhaled and shook my head. For the moment, the priority was to close the shop. Despite my trouble, I think I managed to complete the work without forgetting anything. But as I was on my way to leave and lock the store, a loud noise surprised me. A smashing sound coming from the parking lot. 

I scurried outside to find a car had just hit a pole full force and I ran into its direction. Just as I feared, Aloïs was behind the wheel and looked completely distressed. He lowered the window as soon as our eyes met. 

“Are you hurt?” I yelled in panic.

“No. Just a big scare," he sighed and I finally allowed myself to breathe.

“I’d never have thought you were that bad as a driver,” I joked to relax the atmosphere. 

“I’m not,” Aloïs defended himself. “This is just not my day.”

I looked him in the eye. Here we were. First, that troubled attitude. Next, a car accident.

“What happened?”

He didn’t reply right away and simply lowered his head. He was close to tears and his exhausted expression broke my heart. His shoulders stiffened and he shivered.

“You can talk to me,” I insisted. 

“My brother’s in the hospital,” he said abruptly, all of a sudden. 

“Oh my God,” I gasped. “Is his life at risk?”

“Not anymore, I think. But I’m not allowed to see him yet.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

I raised an eyebrow, wondering how he could’ve taken this at face value. But it was not the question.

“Anyway, I have to go,” Aloïs concluded before he put a hand on the parking brake. 

“Wait. No, no, no,” I objected. “You’re not driving. Not in that state.”

“I can do it. Leave me alone,” his voice cooled down. 

“You can’t! I assure you that if you start this car again, the next thing you hit won’t be a simple parking pole.” 

Aloïs gritted his teeth and looked straight in my eye. Deep inside, he knew I was right and it angered him. 

“I can drive you home,” I offered. “I just want to make sure you’re alri–”

‘’No.”

I was surprised by his expeditive tone and by the following sigh. He stayed silent a few seconds then started again: 

“First, I don’t like to bring people near my house. Second, I don’t want to come home tonight.”

“Why?”

“I…” his voice shattered.

He probably felt embarrassed by the heartbroken compassion in my eyes because he instantly looked away.

“It’s nothing,” he pretended. “It’s just… Home feels empty without him. And I will lose my mind if I see that bathtub again. I haven't cleaned it up yet."

I didn’t understand which bathtub he was referring to and what it even meant, but of course home felt empty. How hadn’t I thought about it before? Aloïs was left alone and absolutely not in the mental condition to be. 

“Just come to my place then,” I said without thinking further.

“What?” his eyes opened wide like he wasn’t taking me seriously. 

“I mean, there isn’t much space,” I added, “but I have pizza. And Netflix.”

He laughed nervously and remained silent for a few never-ending seconds. He seemed to hesitate, carefully considering the suggestion. 

"It's no use. I don't want to bother."

"You won't. And you need company."

He paused to look at me with a baffled expression, like he would never have expected me to care.

"Alright," he finally surrendered. 

"Okay, " I sighed in relief, "just park that car while I check the store one last time. We'll use mine."

Once finished, I turned the car on and we left in silence. Aloïs didn't utter a single word during the whole ride; I understood and respected that choice. 

When I opened my door, I suddenly remembered I hadn't taken the time to tidy the room before leaving.

"S-sorry," I stuttered, "it's a bit messy…"

But Aloïs wasn't listening and didn't even notice. His eyes were fixed on the wall. 

"Nice clock," he commented.

I just smiled and invited him to settle down. He nearly collapsed on the couch and our first fifteen minutes were just him breathing in silence, eyes closed, trying to pull himself together.

“Pizza?” I offered when he finally seemed able to think clearly. 

“Please,” he answered in a bashful voice after a way too long hesitation. 

From then on, I think we kind of had a good time. Aloïs talked less than usual but looked a bit more relaxed, wrapped up in my softest blanket. The TV was on but mostly to serve as background noise since we were not really watching. A documentary on marine life was broadcasted. 

“Whales scared me when I was a child,” I recalled. “I thought they were big enough to swallow all the water and we would die of thirst. It's ridiculous,” I giggled.

“Oh, not that much. I get the logic. Honestly,” he added, “you’d probably laugh if I told you what scared me as a child.

“What? Tell me! I want to know!” I fidgeted on my seat, excited by curiosity.

Aloïs turned around, looked straight at me and replied in a very serious voice:

“Cashiers.”

I almost choked. He was making fun of me, wasn’t he?

“Is there an innuendo or something?” I smiled. 

“Absolutely not. And it makes the situation kind of ironic.”

“I-indeed. And why did they scare you ?”

“That’s a stupid story,” he whispered and pressed his knees onto his chest. “I was eight when my mother sent me shopping on my own for the first time. It made me anxious: big noises, lots of people. I didn’t even know what I was supposed to say at the checkout so my mother wrote me a note and I learnt it by heart. They may ask you if you want a bag and you’ll say ‘No, thank you.’ Then you’ll say goodbye and wish them a good day.

But things didn’t go as planned. The cashier forgot about the bag and just went, like, ‘Have a good day’, to which I instantly replied ‘No, thank you’. Then I froze and stood still for almost a minute.”

I couldn’t stop smiling. The fact Aloïs was telling this story in a perfectly neutral tone and sounded like a fucking voice-over made it even funnier. 

“And then? What did you do?”

“I cried.”

“Oh my, oh my,” I exclaimed, “what a pure soul!”

“No need to say our mom sent my brother instead the next time. I never wanted to come back again.”

“It was hilarious,” I laughed out loud. 

“Don’t laugh. It’s been seventeen years and I still feel ashamed.”

He sounded a little more light-hearted and it felt nice. Perhaps inviting him was the best thing to do after all.

“Do you think I’m scary?” I teased him, thinking about his jolt the first time we talked.

“I’ve seen worse.”

Aloïs’ eyes shut and silence slowly came back. In no time he had fallen asleep on the couch, still in his suit, his cheek squashed on the armrest. It wasn’t even half past ten yet; but his last concerns probably had been exhausting so I left him alone and went to bed as well. 

The next morning, I got up early to attend school and found him awake, standing in a corner. His hair and shirt were arranged and he was probably waiting for me before leaving.

After a brief exchange of courtesies, I led him to the door. He was staring at me with his usual seriousness. 

“Thanks for the invite,” he said. “I’d never have thought I’d have a good time, but I did.”

I opened then closed my mouth within two seconds, not knowing what to answer. What kind of a compliment was that? It had at least the advantage of being honest.

“How can I thank you?”

I shook my head.

“You don’t have to. Just take care of yourself. And of your brother, of course.”

Aloïs nodded, waved me goodbye then walked away without a word. 

Despite an extremely busy week, I still had him in mind the whole time. Not only because of our pleasant evening, but also out of concern. I had no way to know if his brother was alright and how he was dealing with the situation. Waiting was my only option. 

When our daily meeting finally came, I was reassured to see him on time, perfectly arranged and back to his routine. I almost pounced on him when he greeted me:

"How's your brother?"

"Better," he replied with less emotion than expected. He left this morning. Thanks for caring."

"Great!" I shouted in relief.

Aloïs kept quiet, looking ahead. He appeared a bit nervous but not the anxious way. Kind of… embarrassed? I secretly hoped I hadn’t offended him in any way that night, but I didn’t dare ask what was wrong.

Once the groceries stowed in his backpack, he turned around and expeditiously placed a huge paper bag on the desk. 

“‘re you go,” he muttered, “good evening.”

And he did not leave the store this time: he practically escaped, scampering in a hasty and awkward way. I hadn’t had the time to stop him nor to get a single word.

I was completely stunned and blinked in misunderstanding, until that mysterious bag finally intrigued me. If Aloïs had left it here, it was probably for me to open so I didn’t think any further and just went on. 

What I found inside was the last thing I would have expected. A cuckoo clock. Why the hell would this man leave his fucking clock on my desk? Confused, it took me quite a bit of time to notice the note left on the bottom of the bag.

I made this for you. Thanks for the evening. See you soon.

My eyes opened wide and I instantly blushed. Wow. Wow. He’d made this? For real? For me? Taking a closer look at the clock, I found out it was hand-carved and had hundreds of precise little details. It was astonishing to think Aloïs had crafted such a piece in less than a week, and the efforts it probably had taken touched me as much as the attention. I didn’t even know he had any skills in watchmaking, and it was incredibly sweet despite the note being so distant it sounded like a telegram. 

Just as my amazement was about to dissipate, nine pm rang and the clock struck. When the trap door opened I was expecting a bird to appear but it was not. It was a Cat.

I laughed out loud, out of amusement but also because of a heartwarming joy. I had never received such a singular yet magnificent gift. I absolutely loved it and it was, to be honest, the first time a guy ever thanked me for pizza night with a timepiece. 

When I went home I hung the clock on the wall, right above the couch Aloïs had slept on the week before. It looked perfect and I couldn’t wait to see him again so I could express my gratitude.

But before we met again, in the middle of the week, something distracted me. Or should I say someone. Weird Customer Number Two.

Late in the evening again, a man entered the desert grocery store. I couldn’t have not seen him: partly because there was no one else around here, but mostly because of his looks. His aquamarine sidecut was curled like he’d just got out of bed and he was floating in exceedingly oversized clothes, so colorful it looked like a whole family of parrots was grieving. 

He wandered in the alleys for a few minutes emitting a strange, conflicting aura. Like a ghost who'd have been in agony for centuries but in an extremely cheerful way. 

His shopping didn’t take long and he quickly came up to me. 

“Hi. Do you sell cigarettes?” he asked while putting his articles on the conveyor belt.

I thought it was a joke at first so I just chuckled, but when the man gazed at me in silence for a few seconds, I understood he was serious.

“Sir, this is a grocery store.”

“Oh, true. I forgot it wasn’t food.”

I raised an eyebrow. What had I just heard?

“You’re not supposed to eat cigarettes, I think.”

“Did I just say that out loud?” he moaned in a low, troubled voice. “Forget about it, you didn’t hear anything.”

I nodded and acted like nothing had happened. We were both embarrassed now. I tried to keep my eyes away so he wouldn’t feel judged, but an iterative feeling pushed me to look at him again and again.

His face was oddly familiar. It was just like I had known this guy for a while but it was impossible. I would have remembered a person that… eccentric. Maybe an old classmate with a whole new appearance?

“Excuse me,” I timidly asked, “have I seen you before?”

“Probably on the news,” he answered without hesitation. “I’m a serial killer.”

I burst out laughing when a large smile spread across his emaciated face. Okay, good one. 

“Seriously,” he resumed, “you must mistake me for my twin brother. He comes here every Thursday.”

“Aloïs!” I screamed like it was evidence.

Of course. Of course it was Aloïs he reminded me of. How could I have been so stupid? Behind his round pink tinted glasses, the man had the exact same odd-coloured eyes and identical facial features. But to be honest, everything else was different. 

“You know his name?” he exclaimed. 

“Sure. We’ve been chatting for months, he came to my place once and he gifted me a clock last week!”

“Dear Lord, it’s a fucking miracle.”

He faked a dramatic, exaggerated faint then slammed his fist on the conveyor. 

“This idiot has a friend and he never told me!”

“We-we’re friends?” my face turned red.

If Aloïs and I were starting to get a bit closer, he had never referred to me as a friend and I had no idea if he counted me as such or not. 

“Come on!” his brother rolled his eyes. “Do you think someone like Al' would trust you enough to stay at your house if you were not his friend? And would he build a clock just for you?”

“You’re right,” I smiled.

This simple statement was so sweet it brightened my day. Aloïs’ brother on the contrary, seemed quite upset that he'd never ever mentioned me. Was it that surprising?

“Don’t hold it against him,” I begged. “He’s not very talkative.”

“Wow, you're good with euphemisms!" he clapped his hands with a sarcastic grin.

We both laughed and when the guy negligently leaned on the cash desk, I realized his manners were the opposite of Aloïs’. It was probably the reason I hadn’t recalled why he looked so familiar. This, and the long aqua hair.

“So you two are twins? I would have never guessed!”

"People rarely do," he shrugged. I'm the Evil One, by the way. Name's Ezra."

"I'm Cat!"

We exchanged a warm smile. Without even knowing why, I already liked this guy. 

"How come both of you always do groceries that late?" I suddenly wondered. "Is that in your genes or…?"

"Aloïs likes quiet places and we both hate people."

"Legit."

I proceeded to the checkout and Ezra just carried all his items in his arms, an approximate and careless way. Seeing how disorganized he was, it was hard to believe he had Marshall blood. 

"I'm glad I finally met you," I admitted when he was about to leave. "Aloïs mentioned you at least twice."

"What a record!" he laughed. "Buuuuut…"

Ezra paused to stare at his rainbow painted nails in a sassy way.

"You want to make him talk?" he asked with an evil smirk.

"Why did you say that like an anime villain?"

"Because I'm a serial killer."

"Oh, of course," I giggled. "And yes, I'd like him to talk a bit more."

"Just ask him how an eighteenth century watch works then," Ezra revealed. "But never do that just before you close. It'd take hours and you may want to have a seat."

I thanked him. Noted. It would probably help, yet an issue remained. 

"When could I ask him then?" I complained in disappointment. "I only see him after half past eight after all."

"Oh! True," Ezra realized. "Well, he'd kill me if I shared his contact without asking, but I can give him yours if you want."

My eyes brightened. "You'd do that?!"

"Of course. I love chaos."

"Oh my God, thanks a lot!" I shouted before giving my phone number.

He wrote it down and blinked at me. 

"One last piece of advice: if you like his company, just tell him."

"What?" I scratched my cheek in confusion. "Is that necessary? I thought it was obvious…"

"Trust me, nothing's ever obvious enough for this guy."

With a cynical smile, Ezra glanced at the clock, took his articles back and waved me goodbye.

"This idiot better tell me everything tonight or Cain is back to town," I heard him mumble when he passed the door. 

If I hadn't had an urgent task to complete, I wouldn't have moved for at least three minutes. I had chatted with this man for less than a quarter of an hour, but it felt like I'd just been blown by a hurricane. 'Guess it was the Marshall Effect. 

What a pair, I told myself. What a fucking pair.

[erodasfishtacos]

how about when they first noticed ezra was a nervous and anxious baby ?

Seperation

prompt: the moment when h and yn decide that Ezra needs to see a therapist.

warnings: angst

if you like the fic - please reblog, like, comment, or come talk to me in my inbox!

I write for free so if you enjoy my fics please consider donating to support my writing on my kofi.

enjoy 😊

—

It’s late at night, like 3 in the morning, and Harry was down in Atlanta for three games with the Braves.

Easton and Cash had long adjusted to their father being away for short spurts of time - doesn’t mean they don’t miss him but they know he’ll come back to them.

Ezra was another story.

YN felt dread anytime he went away for a game because her youngest got so anxious and had trouble sleeping.

He was usually okay during the day (Harry was gone for practice and obligations during most mornings and afternoons).

It was at night time.

She really didn’t want to call and bother her husband because he had just played a game that went into three innings of overtime and had gotten a gnarly bruise on his thigh from a ball hitting him as he batted.

When they’d FaceTimed after the game, about eight, he had been so exhausted in his hotel room that his eyes were nearly closing as he spoke to her.

Now at three, three in the morning, Ezra still hasn’t went to bed because of how fussy and tearful he was - babbling about his father.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” He was whining into his mother’s neck, his hot tears rolling down his cheeks and onto her skin.

“Ezzie, baby. We have to calm down. Mama’s here and daddy is okay, he’s just working,” She murmured to him for the hundredth time that night.

YN was sat in the den with him because she didn’t want him waking up his brothers or his little sister who just begun to sleep through the night for the most part.

At one point, she did stir for a night feeding, and as YN sat on her bed - Briar latched sleepily, Ezra was nestled tightly into her other side.

When it hit three-thirty, she began to feel herself get frustrated because she couldn’t fix the situation - no matter what she did.

She knew once tears began rolling down her own cheeks that she had to call Harry.

It was never that she was worried he would be mad that she called, she just felt guilty because he had worked so hard already that day.

YN reaches for her phone, taking a deep inhale before pressing his contact for facetime.

It rings three times before it’s picked up, completely dark in his room, and he rasps out drowsily, “Wha’s going on, mama? Y’alright? The babies alright?”

“I-I can’t get him to settle,” YN takes a deep breath, the sleep deprivation making her want to just break down and sob.

“Daddy? Daddy, daddy, daddy,” Ezra just chants, eyes wide on the screen, searching for his father to just appear but all he sees is darkness.

That causes him to just start bawling his eyes out when he can’t will his father onto the phone like he wants.

“Whoa, Ezzie. Sweet boy, c’mon. Y’gotta breathe s’daddy can understand you,” Harry coos, stirring to turn on the light and illuminate his pillow-creased face.

“Daddy!” His voice is shrill, high-pitched and it makes YN’s ears ring.

“Ezra Duke,” Harry says a little more firmly, “Daddy can’t understand you when you scream, okay?”

The little boy sniffles and tries to catch his breath, leaning into where YN is rubbing soothing circles into his back.

“Miss you,” His son whimpers sadly, bringing his voice down a notch, “Come home, please.”

“I am flying’ home tomorrow, bab. Daddy will be home around noon but you have to be good for mama,” He says, voice still smooth and calm.

“Now!” Ezra screams in a way he usually never does and then continues, “Now! Now daddy! Now!”

Both parents are taking aback, Harry with wide eyes and parted lips as he watching his son through his phone and YN just squeezes her eyes shut, exhaling out of her mouth.

“Mama, breathe,” Harry directs towards her, can tell how overwhelmed she is getting from all the chaos of his screaming.

“Daddy, daddy,” Ezra blubbers, green eyes angry and anxious at the same time, “Please, home!”

YN hears noise from behind her, to see her eight year old padding into the room with his unruly curls poking every which way.

“Mama, is Ezzie okay?” Easton wonders, knuckling his eyes sleepily and then Cash follows right behind him in his dinosaur pajamas.

“Fuck, he woke up the boys,” YN informs Harry tearfully, “I just…I don’t know what to do. I can’t do anything to make him feel better.”

The older boys peek into the screen to smile at their dad and Harry gives them a tense smile, “Hi boys, I know Ez is being loud but can y’two be good f’your mama and go back to bed?”

They agree, giving their upset brother a kiss and then their mom before talking quietly to each other as they walk up the stairs.

“Daddy? Home, please! Hold me!” Ezra wails, clinging to his mother’s neck tightly enough to hurt as he tantrums.

“This is the worst it’s ever been, he’s normally stopped before I’ve had to call you,” YN groans, rocking him swiftly against her for lack of a better idea.

“Wait…” Harry sits up, scrubbing a hand over his puffy face, “Has this been happening’ every time m’away?”

“It just started two to three months ago but he’s always been able to be calmed down within an hour or so,” YN replies, shushing Ezra as he babbles over and over again daddy, daddy, daddy.

Harry’s jaw tightens and his frown settles into a deep crease, “Well why a’ve you not told me that m’baby has been cryin’ for me when I’m gone? Do y’not think that’s important?”

YN recognizes his irritation and is running on less than five hours of sleep over two days and may he’s it back with an even sharper tone.

“We can’t change that you’re gone. I’m trying to handle it, Harry.”

“Y’not doin’ a bloody good job at it!” Harry bites back in frustration, heart pounding in desperation as he hears his son cry for him.

“Daddy, daddy, come on.”

Then YN looks at him with watering, hurt eyes, “I’m doing my best. You’re not here, I can’t make you appear. I’m trying to calm him down without having to wake you up.”

And Harry shouldn’t but he’s angry and misses his babies - all of them but especially the one who needs him the most right now.

“Y’dont think I deserve to know tha’ Ezra’s been acting like this?” Harry snaps before adding, “In this situation, y’best isn’t good enough because he’s still crying and y’still haven’t been able to settle him.”

And wow, those words hit her like a ton of bricks. It was instilling all the insecurities that she had bubbling in her chest.

In this situation, y’best isn’t good enough because he’s still crying and y’still haven’t been able to settle him.

Harry automatically knows that he spoke before he thought and he let his stressed out mind say untrue hurtful things.

He part his lips about to speak before YN cuts him off.

“If you can do it so much better than me, fucking good you. Then come home and fix this because I give up,” YN laughs without humor, finger finding the red button to hang out and disconnecting.

Harry tried calling back over and over and over but YN just hangs her head, sniffling, as she watches her tired, anxious little son finally drift off to sleep.

At some point, her phone stops ringing when he’s given up and it doesn’t ring again until for another thirty minutes.

She knew he was going to keep calling until she picked up - had been that way since they first started dating.

By now, Ezra was asleep in his room and YN was sat against their headboard - having tossed the tear soaked shirt she had on off and was feeding Briar once more.

The millionth facetime request comes through and finally she swipes to answer, he’s furious right as they connect, “D’you have any idea how worried I am? Y’cant ju-“

He stops himself when he sees his baby girl pop her head from her mother’s breast with puffy lips and look at the screen, “Dadadadada.”

“Oh, hi lil’ mama,” Harry changes his tone completely, face softening - “Did I interrupt y’eatin’? S’mama being so nice and feeding you?”

Briar just smiles with a gapped baby tooth smile, a dimple pushing into her left cheek as she does so.

“Guess I’m good for one thing, right? A fucking milk-maker,” YN scoffs at her husband’s opposite tone as she guides Briar gently back down to finish her meal.

Harry frowns, “Y’know tha’s not anything near the truth and tha’ I think you’re the best mama to our babies. M’just upset.”

“You told me my best wasn’t good enough, I can’t believe you would say something like tha’ to me,” YN begins to sniffle again.

“Sweetheart, m’sorry. I ju-“

“What did you call for, Harry? It’s nearly four-thirty in the morning and I haven’t slept for nearly two days now. I want to feed her and go to sleep,” YN’s voice is disconnected and exhausted.

“To talk, I didn’t say how I was feeling correctly-“

“When you come home tomorrow you can fix everything and I’ll let you because I’m not doing a good enough job,” His wife cuts him off again.

Harry starts to feel a ball of worry form in his throat as he hears how unemotional and distance his wife sounds with him.

He had totally said the wrong things as his wife was just trying to do her best at balancing four babies while he was away.

“Please, let me apologize-“

“I would like to go to sleep. Please don’t call back,” YN responds before ending the phone call and leaving the screen dark.

They rarely ever fought. Especially like this.

He’s man enough to admit that he cries after he tries calling back (even though she said not to) and it went straight to voicemail.

-

He tries facetiming in the morning, at around nine right before if flight takes off - surprised when it actually was picked up.

Harry only sees YN for a brief moment before she’s propping up the camera on the kitchen table so that Easton and Cash are in view eating pancakes and Briar is in her high chair with blueberries staining her chubby cheeks.

Ezra must still be in bed.

“Hi bubbies,” Harry greets with a smile as they’re curls shake as they look up with excited smiles.

“Daddy! You comin’ home?” Cash squeaks excitedly through a mouthful of food.

“Hi dad!” Easton chimes in, waving.

Briar is only half-interested, more taken by the fact that if she squishes the berries between her fingers they turn mushy, babbles out a, “Daddadaa.”

“I’ll be home in like three hours, ‘kay” Harry informs them - his heart aches to be there right now with theme

“Ezzie cried all night,” Cash let’s his father know.

“Mama cried too,” Easton whispers, like it’s a secret that he doesn’t want her to hear, “I think she is really sad.”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut for a minute, “I know. Ezzie was sad last night. Can I talk to mama?”

Easton looks to his mother off camera as she must say something to him to repeat to Harry, “Mama said that she is busy and she’ll see you when you get home.”

He clenches his fist off camera, trying to smile but he knows it’s terse as he says, “Alright, I love you all. See y’when I get home.”

-

Meanwhile, YN gets all the children settled after breakfast.

Easton, Cash, and Ezra in the backyard - the two older ones digging holes for bugs and the younger playing in the sandbox.

Briar was snoozing in the cradle of YN’s elbow as she sat on a chaise - watching the kids.

She hits the number she was looking for, waiting for it to ring, and then she hears, “Hillside Pediatrics, this is Jess.”

The office knew the family well because Harry is Harry Styles and they have four children who visit there.

YN inquires about therapeutic options for him, resources, and if they had any recommendations for where to take him.

Like the super mom she is, she manages to set up an intake appointment that evening (which was a miracle on its own), call Anne and ask to watch the other children, and then take a deep breathe.

Harry steps through the back door, dressed in his usual Yankees hoodie, Nike shorts, and trainers looking tanner than before.

“Hi bubbies!” He greets, basking in when all of his children look up and squeal excitedly at the sight of their father.

Easton and Cash are the fastest, racing to cling to each legs and nuzzle into his thigh with a tight hug.

Ezra is slower, by the time he’s arrived to his father - there was no room for him to shuffle in and he automatically lets out an earth-shattering wail.

Just like before.

“Daddy! Hold me! Daddy, hold me please!” His youngest son begs desperately, stretching up his arms, and letting hot tears stream down his cheeks.

Harry tuts, reaching for him and popping him on his hip but Ezra has other ideas - scrambling until his nose is pressed into the curve of Harry’s neck with his arms wrapped tightly around him.

“Ezzie, c’mon now,” Harry titters softly, reaching down to give both of his other boys a kiss on the head before they dart back off to play.

“Daddy, miss you,” Ezra blubbers sadly, Harry wincing when his son yanks a bit in his longer curls by the nape of his neck.

“Y’okay, daddy’s got you. Relax, breathe bubba,” His father reassured him, swaying softly back and forth until he’s just sniffing.

“We have an appointment with a children’s play therapist for him later at five,” YN tells him, shushing Briar who’s squeaking from the noise.

Harry takes a deep inhale, “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. Can we talk now since y’been ignoring my calls?”

YN bristles at the attitude in his tone, “Excuse me if I’d rather not be critiqued on my skills as a mother when I am sleep-deprived and stressed out.”

He clenches his jaw, speaking lowly with firmness, “Y’bein’ absurd! I didn’t critique to you, y’blowing things out of proportion! Y’the one who didn’t tell me this was going on!”

“It didn’t get that bad until last night! I could handle it - he would just be upset for a little before bed but he’d never got that anxious before,” She justifies, returning the glare he’s giving her.

“Didn’t think y’could mentioned it to me? I have a right to know, he’s m’baby too. I could have fix this yet you were letting him suffer,” Harry bites out but know as soon as it’s out of his mouth that he wishes he could swallow the words back down.

You were letting him suffer.

YN doesn’t even argue back, just starts bawling because of how hurtful those words were and how could he even say that?

“Mama, fuck- I didn’t, I’m just-“

His wife gets up without a word, using Briar’s blanket to wipe at her wet cheeks, and vanishing through the sliding back doors.

Ezra was snoozing peacefully on him and he couldn’t leave the boys outside alone so he resorts to sitting down on one of the outdoor couches and curse internally.

He couldn’t believe he was being so cruel. He just felt so….betrayed that she hadn’t told him what had been going on and he felt like he was letting down Ezra.

It was a nasty feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach because he was away so much from his family and it was stressful for everyone.

He wanted to cry at the idea of his son crying for him every night.

-

Harry starts to get anxious when YN isolates herself in their bedroom with Briar for the next upcoming hours.

He knocks softly, opening the door to YN turned on her side away from him, under the covers, with Briar asleep in her bassinet asleep.

“Mama? Y’awake?” Harry murmurs cautiously with a sandwich and chips since she’d disappeared and hadn’t been down once, water in the other hand.

“Are the boys okay?” YN asks quietly, not bothering to turn over to face him.

“Yes, babies are fine. They’re watchin’ Toy Story right now, eatin’ lunch,” Harry replies, eyes falling in his beautiful little daughter.

“If the boys are fine then I don’t want you in here,” YN tells him with an angry tone but low enough that it won’t disturb Briar.

Harry nearly whimpers.

“Baby, please. We need to talk-“

“If the boys are fine, I want you to leave me alone.”

Harry hesitates by the door, feeling helpless as he slips the plate onto the dresser in case she is hungry but he doubts she’ll touch it.

“Alright, I’ll leave y’be. Call me if y’need anythin’ or help with Briar,” He offers, trying to buy time in the room.

She laughs sarcastically, “Yeah, I’ll make sure you’re notified because I can’t do a good enough job myself.”

Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair, trying to conjure up the perfect words to fix this situation but it’s interrupted.

“Daddy? Daddy? Where? Hold me!” Ezra screeches as Easton stands outside the door with him, holding his hand.

“Dad, he won’t stop,” The oldest complains with annoyance as Ezra scurries to his father and up into his arms.

“Daddy daddy,” He chants into his father’s skin with relief.

“Thank y’East, Ezzie’s been sad lately. Huh?” Harry replies, thumbing at Easton’s cheek.

The oldest shrugs, “Not always. Mama cheers him up all the time with kisses and hugs.”

Harry gazes back to the lump under the blankets and feels himself getting choked up. He really really regretted his words.

He didn’t regret being upset with her. He regrets the cheap shots he took at his wife who’s just trying to be a full time mom to his babies.

“Mama?” Ezra squeaks at the word, realizing he hasn’t seen her recently and then he’s back to tantruming, “Mama, mama, mama. Where’s mama?”

“M’right here, Ez,” YN murmurs, flipping to her other side so that her youngest could see her. His face lights up and he scurries to the bed, scampering up until his mom is tucking him under the blankets with her.

Harry’s heart aches when Ezra whimpers quietly and burrows into her warm chest with happiness that he found his mother.

“Y’got him?” Harry asks, hand raking through Easton’s curls as he leans into his father’s side.

“Can we go play now, dad?” Easton asks impatiently, tugging his father out of the room and down the staircase.

-

Anne shows up and the two older ones are so excited, bouncing up and down as they tug her into the backyard to show her the holes they dug with Briar popped on her hip - gnawing on her shirt collar.

YN brings Ezra down the stairs, curls tamed with a bit styling mousse and a little adias x disney outfit that was the cutest thing ever. ***

Harry reaches out to take Ezra off YN but he whines and shakes his head, clinging to his mother like it was life or death.

“No daddy! Mama!” Ezra pouts angrily, glaring at his father with protectiveness.

He puts his hands up, “Okay, okay. Y’can stay with y’mama.”

-

The car ride is silent, Harry doesn’t know what to say and YN isn’t giving him anything to work with. He feels like he’ll just say the wrong thing again.

When they pull up to the building and Harry puts it in park, he’s startled when his wife just starts bawling into her hands.

Harry freezes for a second with wide eyes before rumbling, “Mama, sweetheart. Please don’t cry, it breaks m’heart, darlin’.”

“I’m…I’m no-not a good mom,” YN cries, “I wanted to tell you but I was scared. I don’t want you to think I can’t handle raising our babies.”

Harry pries her hands away from her face, cupping her cheeks and firmly staring, full conviction in his voice, “If I didn’t think y’could handle four babies then I wouldn’t have put them in you. I wouldn’t talk about putting more in you.”

YN’s eyes are watering, letting Harry swipe the tears away with his thumbs as she inhales deeply, “I am so so sorry I didn’t tell you. I don’t want you to worry when you’re away.”

Harry leans forward, kissing her harshly before whispering against her lips, “I don’t give a fuck about baseball in comparison to you and the kids. I’d give it up this second if y’asked. I want to worry because you’re the love of m’life and I’m y’husband - I’m here to support you and support our family.”

He continues, “I am a bit frustrated with you. I want you to tell me everything I miss when I’m gone even if it stresses me out or upsets me. Okay? But I shouldn’t have said hurtful things. You’re the best mama on this planet and y’treat our babies the best.”

YN nods, willing herself to stop crying as their appointment starts in ten minutes as she takes steady breathes.

“I forgive you. I’m sorry I let my pride get in the way. I just…I feel like you do everything for us and the least I could do is manage the kids,” She sighs with self-deprecation.

“Mama, just because one of our bubs needs therapy doesn’t mean you’re not doing a perfect job. We’ve always know Ezzie was an anxious baby. This is going to be good for him and for us, right?” He encourages, nosing at her cheek before she offers up her lips once more for a short kiss.

“I love you,” YN tells him, running a thumb of a light dusting of stubble on his jawline.

“Love y’more than anything,” He replies instantly.

-

Ezra is nervous as they step into the calming, peaceful office where there are neatly organized buckets of toys and shelves of books.

Patricia was a middle-aged woman with a kind smile who welcomed them in, she observed how Ezra had himself wrapped around his dad with hesitant green eyes peeking at her.

As they sit down, Patricia says softly, “This must be Ezra?”

They all wait for a moment before the toddler turns around to look at the woman and says timidly, “m’Ezzie.”

“Hi Ezzie,” The therapist greets and he gives her a cautious smile before nuzzling back into his father’s neck.

The discuss what has been going on. How Ezra has always been very nervous, anxious, cautious in a way that none of his other siblings are.

How he struggles when one of his parents is away from him, how he can get upset if he can’t find one of his siblings, or how much he worries about things most kids his age don’t worry about.

Patricia does an excellent job in calming down the parents, assuring them that it was nothing out of the norm, and that therapy would be beneficial for him.

She states that they’ll work a lot of feelings - being able to describe and recognize them. That will be one of the most important things.

Also working on his ability to calm down and cope with stressful situations, recommending once a week which of course his parents agreed to.

By the end of the intake, Ezra had ventured to take one of the baby dolls from a bin and bring it back to his father.

“Look daddy, s’a baby,” He lisps proudly, holding it up to show him.

“Good job, bubs,” Harry laughs, leaning to kiss his forehead - watching him toddle off to find more dolls to play with.

-

That night, after all the kids go to bed, and YN is finishing her final feeding with Briar in her nursery before putting in her crib.

Harry runs a nice, steaming bath with lavender bubbles and a candle burning with the lights dimmed low.

When she finds him, he slowly undresses her with warm kisses and praises of how good of a wife and mother she is.

They lay in there together, YN between his legs with her head rested on his chest, as his hands massage at her tummy and hips lovingly.

And yeah, everything is okay after that.

They get up the next day and everything is back to normal except now Ezra goes to therapy once a week with his parents.

(Ezra ends up working with Patricia until he’s in about sixth grade.)