#i just know he had the biggest smile on his face | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fraugwinska · 1 day

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Hey! Me again!

Could I get an Alastor x Female reader where she tells him she's pregnant, he's so stunned he thinks it a joke until she shows him the positive on the test and it shocks him to the core but after the initial shock he's overjoyed.

My dear jezebel <3 Thank you for being so patient! I took a few liberties from the ask, I really hope you don't mind! After a lot of rewrites and edits - I'm finally happy to share it with you! Thank you for the ask, my dearest! TW:Sickness&death-Light smut-Minors DNI-5.2k words

Autumn had always been your favorite season.

The most colorful of the four; from your bed you could always see various shades of red, orange, green and yellow, all mixed together to create a vibrant, warm impressionistic painting. Just looking at the bright shades outside had always made you smile.

There was also this peaceful ambiance around autumn that you could feel but not quite understand. Something so profound and yet ephemeral in a way.

"Should I close the window before I go?", Alice asked you, a sad smile on her face. Your favorite hospice nurse had spent her last shift before her holiday almost exclusively with you - somehow you both knew there wasn't much time left. The sickness that ate away at your body was unforgiving - you knew it was simply a matter of days now, and even that was generous. Alice must've sensed it, too.

"No, no.", you replied with a warm smile. "Leave it open. The night nurse can close it later."

Alice nodded, said her goodbyes and gave you a kiss on the head before exiting the room, carefully closing the heavy wooden door with a thud of painful finality. Breathing had become painful lately, but despite the sting you inhaled deeply, just to burn the smell of bristle leafs and warm wood into your memory. Right next to the memory of him.

Alastor.

Summoning him hadn't been easy, especially since you were bedridden and almost constantly monitored. Not only did you have to take special care of choosing the right night to be left unsupervised - you had to bribe Alice and make her believe it was her own idea to give you a few hours to be on your own, which you claimed to need desperately. The internet had been your biggest friend in the weeks before, preparing - you had used the time you had at your disposal to research on shady websites and occult forums who to summon, how to do the ritual and, in case he said no, which bargain to offer. And you chose Alastor.

It was the name that spoke to you the most - Unusual. Mature. Vintage. Mysterious. Powerful and yet gentle, in it's own way. 'Mans defender'. 'Avenger'. The more you read about him on dubious servers and obscure wiki's, the more you were sure it should be him. Still able to use your hands back then, in the chosen night you managed to follow all of the instructions perfectly, even while bound to your bed. When the living shadow appeared out of nowhere, twisting and contorting into the shape of a tall, handsome, dapper dressed demon, the tiny handheld radio you had in your hands slid from your weakened grip and your heart skipped a beat. As he stepped nearer, the perceived humanity of his appearance disappeared before your eyes - long, black fingers ending in red talons, small antlers sitting in between fluffy crimson-colored ears, razor-sharp teeth and blood-red irises shining with curiosity. He stopped just a foot away in front of your bed. As he began to talk, to introduce himself - as though being summoned by gravely sick human women were the norm - you stopped him with a raise of your hand, the action draining your already weakened body and mind.

"I know who you are. Alastor, the Radio Demon."

"My reputation precedes me, then!", he chimed, his voice pointed, melodic and so enchantingly and contradictorily full of life. His whole posture, his devious smile and the way his eyes glinted in the dim moonlight made it very clear that he was a dangerous creature, and yet, you felt strangely at ease.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this summoning, my dear?"

You swallowed hard, knowing full well that if you wanted him to accept your deal, you needed to choose your words carefully.

"I... I am dying."

Alastor's grin twitched, but he said nothing, only tilted his head and waited for you to continue, hands folded behind his back.

"I've been sick my whole life, I...", you felt the need to explain, so that your offer wouldn't sound so... well, pitiful.

"Ever since I was born, I have been bound first to my crib, then to a bed, the hospital and now this hospice. I have never been allowed or even able to go to school, or make friends, or just... do things that children ought to do. Even though my life was always going to be short lived."

You could feel tears forming in your eyes, but blinked them away - you didn't want to cry in front of him, you felt pathetic as you were already. "I missed out on every milestone, every first experience a girl should have. First trip to a park, first day at school, first friend, first kiss, first... everything. And I'll miss out on so many more. I just want to have one normal thing, one 'first' before I die. One memory of a real and happy experience. Of something good."

"And what, pray tell, would that be?", he asked, a brow raised, his smile growing wider. He could probably hear the beating of your heart as you took a deep breath. This was it. Now or never.

"I want to lose my virginity."

The silence following your calmly stated confession was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. It took a while for Alastor to say something.

"Oh my, you really don't mince words, do you, darling?"

You shook your head.

"I have no time to waste. Every second counts."

"Believe me, little one, I'm quite... flattered that you'd go through the trouble of a summoning ritual for this... let's call it: venture. But... why me? Aren't there any men up here you would rather be with?"

"Have you looked at me?", you laughed bitterly. "I'm a sick, dying 20-something in a hospice bed. No man would ever so much as touch me. If I'd even get to meet anyone, since I can't get out of this bed anymore without a nurse. I have nothing to offer a partner anymore. No beauty, no future, not even money. I have only my soul. Please."

The last word came out as a whisper. Alastor's eyes glowed red in the growing darkness, his grin ever-present. He seemed to consider it for a moment, the sound of humming static the only sound in the room and you feared he might reject you.

"If I were to agree, would you truly be willing to pay the price for it? Your soul, darling, is a very precious thing. Do you know the implications of it's loss?"

You nodded.

"Yes. You can have it. It's not worth anything anyway."

Alastor stepped forward, his eyes locked with yours. He didn't sit down on the bed, instead he stood right beside you, bending over until his face was just inches from yours, the back of his hand lightly brushing your fringe out of your face. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of blood and something earthy, like wet soil or moss. He smelled like a forest in autumn.

"It is worth quite a bit, actually. More than you can imagine, I'd wager.", his voice was quiet, almost unfiltered and utterly beautiful. "But I can see you are dead set on it - Pardon the wordplay."

His sharp claw pressed into your skin, eliciting a gasp. He followed the curve of your cheek to your chin, lifting it to better access the side of your neck, just under your jaw. Your skin broke out in goosebumps because for the first time in your life, you felt a touch that was not clinical, not meant to treat you or wastefully bide you more time. This touch was gentle and purposeful. Sensual, maybe. A soft sigh escaped you against your will.

Alastor let out a hum that was not entirely unhappy, before bringing his face dangerously close to yours. You could feel the ends of his fluffy hair tickling your face, the tip of his nose lightly brushing against your skin.

"A happy memory, you say. One satisfying experience in return for your soul. I am certainly not usually known for my kindness, dear.", he muttered against the skin of your cheek, before turning towards your lips. So close. Your heart was beating as loud and as fast as it could, making you dizzy. "But I think we have ourselves a deal."

The golden hour has passed, turning bright orange light into fading blue to black. And the air was turning colder. The memory of that night was the only thing you thought about as you slowly felt death approaching.

The way his lips felt against your mouth, his tongue and the sweet taste he left on your lips that still lingered whenever you ran yours across them, recalling the sensation just once more. He had been gentle, patient, always asking and never assuming or forceful. He made sure you were comfortable before exploring you, careful in the places he touched, mindful in tasting you, praising you for the sounds you made. He allowed you to do your share of exploring, too, and although he wasn't human you found his body still wonderfully, beautifully male, no matter his thin, soft taupe fur and his many, shimmering scars. The memory of the moment when he had finally filled you, tender and slow, was as much sweet pain as it was blissful pleasure, and you found solace in his warmth and the steady, rhythmic pace of him moving inside you as you spilled his name, over and over again until he spent himself inside you, bodies deeply connected. It was hard for you to believe that all of it had been actually true, and not just one big fever dream your dying mind had cooked up to send you off gently when Alice woke you from your sleep later that night, wondering aloud why you didn't turn off the little, handheld radio on the floor that was still playing soft jazz music.

But the little, red and blue marks on your collarbones and the one red-and-black strand of hair you had found on your pillow were telltale signs that everything had been indeed real, and you made sure every detail was etched into your heart, into your body and into your skin. It was, and would remain forever, the happiest moment of your entire life.

'I hope my soul is worth enough...' you thought as the coldness finally embraced you, tears running freely down your cheeks now, but the smile on your face was wide and warm, and the last thing you heard before falling into your final sleep was the gentle hum of a breeze that brought in the smell of earth and rain and leaves.

Alastor had no need for sleep. He usually didn't spend his nights sitting in his favorite chair, motionless, listening to music. He was far too busy, too full of life and plans and energy to sit around and just wait for morning. And yet, there he was, sitting and brooding for the last month, every night, his ears tuned in on the low, static-y noise coming from the old-fashioned radio he was holding. A radio eerily similar to hers.

'How did it come to this?', he wondered for the thousandth time, like a broken record. 'Why did I do it?'

He couldn't fathom the reason for his actions that night, why he had given in to the strange, frivolous request of the frail young woman. Why he had agreed to take her virginity, of all things, in exchange for her soul. Granted, she wasn't the first to offer him that, not by far. But usually, the soul was the last thing a sinner offered, after a great many things of lesser value had been already offered and declined in return. It was, in essence, the most desperate measure, taken only by those who had nothing else to lose.

And yet, she had promised him her soul in the very beginning, treating it not as a valuable bargaining chip, but as an expendable object. A thing without use or worth. He didn't know what had intrigued him so much that night. She had been sickly and fragile, her skin almost translucent in the pale light, and yet there was a spark in her eye. Determination, maybe. Her voice had been strong, if quiet, and her smile, although sad, was still familiarly bright. The way she spoke and her body language had made it clear that she had been not as much afraid of him, despite her frail and vulnerable position, as she had been anxious about his response. She was clearly clever and resolute, despite her lack of personal experience. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to follow through the summoning ritual.

"I have nothing to offer a partner anymore. No beauty, no future, no money. O only have my soul. Please."

He couldn't remember a single instance where someone had begged him with the simple word please and he gave into it. And yet, he had accepted her plea - The whole of her soul, in exchange for a meager, single moment of ridiculous passion. The mere thought had repulsed him before: Body on body, blunt thumps of fleshes, debauched obscenities... it was something that had never held his interest. He felt like it was something unrefined and animalistic, something he had always regarded as unnecessary and obsolete. Until then.

Her body had responded so eagerly, so sensitive, so ready to his touches. It had been clear she hadn't lied about her virginity, and yet her eagerness, her fearlessness had surprised him. Acting solely based on instinct and the morals he was brought up with, no real experience of his own himself, he had tried to be as careful and gentle as he could, and somehow, her inexperience had made it... easier. She was not expecting anything in terms of skill, and thus he had to guide her through the process, allowing him to set the pace and giving him ample time to react to her reactions. Sweet gasps, subtle tremors, faint flushes - all of which had told him how she had felt, what had been pleasurable and what had been uncomfortable. He had been able to take his time and make sure she enjoyed herself. It had been fascinating and even... pleasurable for him, too.

Despite the obvious pain, she had kept her eyes open, watching his face intently as they connected. He had felt the warmth and the tension around him, and her little, breathy gasps had been such pleasant sounds that when she had finally found her release, it had triggered his own, foreign as it had been. She had sighed his name in pure bliss, and in that moment he had felt as powerful and as satisfied as the night he had gained his title as Radio Demon.

And when the deed had been done, the girl had smiled so serenely, he was sure he had rarely ever seen anything that could rival her in beauty.

Alastor shifted uncomfortably at that thought, trying to will away the memory and the sensation that the mere thought of her smile invoked.

It had taken a few minutes, but eventually he had collected himself and put his clothes back on. Her eyes had followed him, the spark back in them and even brighter than before, her smile not faltering even when her tired lids had drooped down, slowly lulling her to sleep. Alastor had stood there, in the small, plain hospice room, watching her for a while, a strange feeling in his chest. The deal hadn't been solidified by a handshake, her soul not yet firmly bound to him and the contract void if not officially sealed, but he couldn't bring himself to wake her. Something had stopped him.

The memory of her face, pale and beautiful, smiling so peacefully even in her slumber, made the corners of his lips twitch. She would've made a magnificent addition to his collection of souls. And yet, and yet... He had decided then and there that her soul would find its way to him, eventually. But not through the proposed deal. So, he had left, the exchange unfulfilled, the pact broken, turning on the small radio she had let slip onto the floor just as he heard her caretaker returning to check on her.

'Oh, how the mighty have fallen.', he mused bitterly, a small laugh escaping his lips.

"Alastor?"

Charlie's voice was a mix of concern and curiosity, muffled by the thick, wooden door of his room. She sounded worried, probably wondering why he had excused himself from the hotel's interactions more and more for the past weeks. He was about to ignore her, not in the mood to talk to anyone, especially not her, persistent thing that she was, but when her soft knock followed her call, his smile widened tightly and his eyes flashed red.

"Charlie, dear, I'm afraid I'm not available at the moment.", he called out, his tone a bit sharper than usual.

"Sorry, but...", the princess sounded hesitant, and he could hear her shuffle awkwardly outside. "It's just... There is someone in the lobby, wanting to speak to you. It seems... important."

He got up from his chair with an annoyed sigh and switched off the radio, straightened his clothes and smoothed out his hair and bow tie with one swipe. Whatever business matter was brought forward, Alastor didn't feel like discussing it. The smile he wore was razor sharp and dark, a result of his annoyance and brooding mood, and yet he couldn't bring himself to feign his cheery personality just quite yet. Maybe this mystery visitor would be a suitable punching bag to let off some of that steam.

When Alastor finally opened the door and walked down to the lobby next to a flustered looking Charlie, his breath hitched involuntarily and he froze mid-stride. Charlie stumbled at the sudden lack of motion next to her, the deafening static sound and the chime-like tuning of a radio startling her so much she flinched away from him.

"H-Hey Al!?", she called in shock, "Are you okay?"

He didn't move, didn't even react - his attention was solely focused on the figure standing at the front-desk, who, just a moment ago, had talked to Husker before turning around upon hearing him.

Hell kept her skin white and almost translucent in it's spite, but granted her soft, shimmering silvery fur in it's mercy. Her frame wasn't thin and frail anymore, she looked plush and healthy, soft curves where there had been nothing more than skin and bone before. Keeping almost all of her human features intact, the small, round ears protruding from her hair, the pink-tipped nose and the long and slender tail were definitely characteristics of a dormouse, their ends almost silver and soft-looking. Her eyes were of the same gentle color that he remembered, and when her lips spread into a sad, tender smile his breath was stolen away completely.

It was the same smile. The very one he hadn't been able to purge from his mind, and most likely never would.

"Alastor."

The sound of her voice, quiet and melodic as it had been weeks before, felt like an invisible touch that pulled the air out of him. Not enough to suffocate him, but he was still reeling none the less.

"So you finally succumbed, it seems..."

His usual bravado was absent, his voice lacked it's sharp, jovial tone, sounding more like he was actually talking. Charlie could do little more but watch with widened eyes, seemingly unable to fathom the scene right in front of her.

"What are you talking about, Alastor? How do you know...", the princess spoke carefully and uncertain, her eyes wandering from one demon to another, but she was quickly interrupted, not by him, but by...

"It's a long story better told another time, Miss Charlie.", she said with a genuine smile on her face, still not able to take her eyes off Alastor. She took a few tentative steps towards him, careful, but certain in her movement, a confidence about her that hadn't been there before. Her head tilted in an enigmatic way and she spoke again, this time solely directed at him.

"I'm truly sorry to impose. But I was hoping we could talk... privately."

Alastor nodded mutely, not able to think clearly, before taking a deep breath and straightening his back to tower over her once again. Husk seemed to notice his shift in composure, raising a brow when he passed him by on his way back behind the bar, noticing the strangely satisfied looking smile on Alastor's face that was as unnerving and frightening as always, but with a different tint that even Husk must've trouble placing guessing by the suspicious look that fell over the cat's face.

"Of course, my dear, my office will suffice. If you'll excuse us, Charlotte? We'll be only a short while."

He didn't wait for her response but took his guest by her arm and guided her past an astonished Husk and clearly confused Charlie, leading the girl down the hall and to his office, the air between them thick with something undefinable, and neither of them dared to speak until the heavy mahogany door fell shut, effectively cutting off all outside interference.

Her cheeks were flushed when she stepped closer towards him. The tips of his claws brushed against her fringe, following the curve of her soft ear, across the back of her delicate neck to pluck a strand of her hair, pulling it towards him and running the silky fiber between two fingers and over the pad of his thumb, bringing it to his lips with a deep, pleased inhale.

She looked up at him, her smile shy but hopeful.

"You remember me.", she said with a chuckle, her voice a bit higher, her ears twitching and her tail swaying behind her, showing her emotions all too easily. Alastor nodded, not letting go of her hair just yet.

"How could I not, dear. It's not common for me to leave a contract unsettled, you know."

"I had a feeling that might've been the case, since it took me so long to find you.", she said quietly. "So, my soul..."

"... is still yours, yes."

She wasn't looking at him, directly. Her gaze went over his suit, to his hands and cane, then back to the floor.

"Why?", she asked, a hint of confusion and hurt in her voice, her silken hair slipping from his fingers.

"Why didn't you claim it? You had every right, after all. I offered, you agreed and..."

Alastor didn't speak, couldn't speak. The answer was right on the tip of his tongue, and yet he wasn't sure if he wanted to share it. It felt... strange, and foreign, and not quite comfortable. But it was undeniably true, now - with her in front of him - clearer than any time in the last weeks in his chair, each night, in front of the fireplace.

He wanted her. Not just her soul. Her. So, he settled on silence and a half-truth, instead.

"It wasn't the right time, dear."

Her face turned to him, her eyes searching his. He felt exposed, like her eyes were piercing him.

"And now...?"

"That remains to be seen. Why are you here?", he countered, stepping back to put a more comfortable distance between them.

"I came to see you, because..." She swallowed hard, and Alastor watched her throat, the soft swell of her breasts under her modest blouse, the slight rise of her belly. "When I arrived in hell, I felt... weird. I thought it was because of all the changes, this new body and... generally being here. But it didn't go away, this.... feeling. I made friends with a lovely imp couple, they took me in after I fell. The wife, Millie, took me to a doctor because she got worried when I couldn't stop throwing up..."

Her face grew hot, a flush spreading across her cheeks, her ears folding back against her head.

"Alastor, I'm pregnant."

A loud bang rang through the hallway as Alastor dropped his cane and a deafening feedback noise filled the room. For the first time in what must have been decades, his face betrayed him completely, the smile ripping at the sewn edges as it dropped violently. He felt dizzy and his head was spinning.

"Impossible.", he breathed, the word almost getting stuck in his throat. The very notion was ridiculous, unheard of - clearly that must be a crude joke. Alastor started to laugh, though sounding not as amused and booming as he would've hoped, but more hysterical than anything else.

She stayed silent, looking at him with sad, but serious and almost pleading eyes as the truthfulness of her confession began to sink in and his laughter slowly died. He took a tentative step forward, a million questions running through his head, the sheer amount overwhelming his usually so precise mind.

"So, a month ago, it...", he stopped, feeling the corners of his mouth pull wider.

"...yes. The doctor told me there are only a handful similar cases like this known since hell was created... The circumstances are 'too specific' and it normally takes a vast amount of intimate interactions' between a hellbound sinner and a living, fertile human he said... Seems like you knocked me up with one round, buster." She wrung her hands, her smile forced and unsure. "Listen, Alastor... I know it sounds impossible. I mean, I couldn't believe it at first when he told me so I understand you can't, too... but I don't expect anything, I really don't. I just... I wanted to see you again, and-and you deserve to know, and..."

"Darling, hush.", Alastor interrupted, a sense of clarity taking hold of his chaotic mind. He had never felt a desire for a family, not in his lifetime nor in his death. Partners were liabilities and a distraction, relationships nuisances if they strayed beyond the borders of business or at the very most friendly aquaintances. He had no need for things like these in the past, looking down on people desperate to seek out partners, claiming to be lonely when in truth they were just weak or simply starving for a touch of the 'opposite sex' to make up for their own inadequacy.

Now, faced with the reality of fatherhood in a matter of minutes and the prospect of his life being bound to another - one who, undoubtedly, bore his child, no less - Alastor would be lying if he had claimed a part of him didn't absolutely reel at the prospect. A responsibility greater than his own had just fallen into his lap - a vulnerability he never asked for and certainly didn't expect.

But.

A part of him would come into the world, no matter whether it would look human, or demonic like him, or whatever strange combination of them both: This child would be proof of him. Him, not anyone else. There would be a person dependent on him for guidance and protection, a legacy he would be allowed to leave, a lineage that could one day claim that he, Alastor, had been the founding cause. His legacy. His blood and his seed had created another being against all rules and logic, an offspring, maybe a girl, maybe it would resemble him, or her, or even... his mother.

Despite the incredulity and the sheer panic the revelation brought, the longer he looked at the tiny dormouse in front of him, the more he realized how similar her traits were to his own mother's. Soft, but determined. Sad, but brave. Young but aged.

No, this hadn't been just some fleeting fling - Alastor had to believe in fate, given what she told him. There had been a reason why he didn't seal the deal that night. Why he had agreed to her request so easily. The more Alastor thought about the potential of a shared offspring, along with a loyal partner on his side, about the what-ifs and could-bes, the more appealing and pleasant the future appeared. She was carrying a being he created, one that had his essence – All the more stronger his grin widened, stretching so far it caused his cheeks to ache, but his blooming glee knew no bounds. He saw, to his own surprise, not a weakness or vulnerability.

But his greatest achievement.

With a laugh, this time sincere and booming and loud instead of hysterical, he picked her up on her waist, knocking the air out of her in a gasp, and swung her around several times.

"O-oh! Oh my goodness!", she stuttered, eyes wide and brows furrowed. "Alastor, calm down!"

"Oh, no no no, I simply can't! Dear, do you have any idea what a marvel you have wrought!?", he exclaimed in delight, setting her back down and bringing both hands up to her cheeks. "We've created a magnificent abomination!"

Her head shook as she chuckled, still nervous but with an edge of relief in her voice. "That's certainly one way of saying it. But... are... are you saying that... you are okay with it? That you..."

"What, dear?", he cooed, her big eyes shining hopefully as her ears twitched curiously. His chest swelled with affection, and he gently squeezed her cheeks between his hands.

"Does a daddy on your side scare you, darling?"

"N-No-oh."

The title invoked a peculiar reaction, and he made a mental note to use it again soon enough, as her cheeks flushed in a dusty rose. Alastor felt an unfamiliar and somehow primal pleasure at the sight of it, a surge of happiness in his chest, the warmth of it nearly too much. He pulled her face against his, smothering her with a kiss. He wasn't familiar with such embraces, but she felt like she was specifically molded to fit perfectly into him, her ears flicking with every beat of her racing heart.

There were tears welling in her beautiful eyes, and as he kissed her cheeks and brushed them away with his thumbs. Oh yes, Alastor was filled with a new kind of giddy excitement.

"Come on, dear, let's not waste time to spread the good news!", he exclaimed, unable to reign his euphoric mood, and before she could comment on his actions, he reached out and lifted her over his shoulder in one fluid movement, ignoring her startled squawk. The look of utter bewilderment on her face almost made him break out into more laughter, but he was already out the door, ready to take his child's mother, who was, without a doubt in his mind, bound to him forever with a force much stronger than any deal he could've made, downstairs to tell the news to his fellow friends, who would have no choice but to learn what a truly dangerous deal looked like.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #charlie morningstar #hazbin husk #habin hotel #soft alastor #hazzbin pregnancy #quickfic

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ham1lton · 9 hours

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50 + jenson button where he goes to readers childhopd room and sees loads of photos of old f1 stars (and him)👀

050. a childhood home or bedroom w/ JB22.

— part of a series of drabbles! <3

you had been seeing jenson for a little while. he was seemingly perfect. you both got along incredibly well, he was funny and obviously very attractive so when your family asked if he could come along for your biweekly sunday dinner, you obviously said yes. if you’d known what was going to happen, you would have said no.

“is that me?” jenson laughed as he walked into your bedroom. you hadn’t been home in a while, so you had completely forgotten about your decor which comprised of young jenson, young lewis, young nico and young sebastian plastered all over your walls.

“i was young!” you attempted to defend yourself, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. why hadn’t your mother taken these down? but at least, you know that your parents were so out of touch with celebrity culture that they never would have thought that the jenson in the poster was the same one lounging on your hello kitty themed bed.

jenson grinned as he stepped closer to inspect the posters. "wow, i never knew i had such a dedicated fan," he teased, tracing a finger over his younger self's face.

you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. "i was a teenager! we all have our embarrassing phases."

he laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made your heart flutter. "it's kind of adorable, actually. but now i feel like i have a lot to live up to. do i still meet your expectations?"

you peeked through your fingers, meeting his playful gaze. "you've exceeded them, honestly."

just then, your mother called from downstairs. "dinner's ready! jenson, we're excited to get to know you!"

you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the evening ahead. "ready to face the family?"

jenson reached out, taking your hand in his. "as long as you're with me, i think i can handle anything."

as you both headed downstairs, you tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. dinner started off well enough; your family was sweet and welcoming, and jenson's natural charisma shone through, easing your nerves.

but then, just as you were beginning to relax, your younger brother piped up. "you know, you look a lot like that racer dude on the posters in my sister's room."

your father's eyebrows shot up. "racer?"

before you could intervene, jenson chuckled and said, "it's true. i used to be a formula 1 driver."

there was a moment of stunned silence. your mother blinked in surprise, and your father's face split into a wide grin. "no kidding! my daughter has had those posters up since she was a kid. she was obsessed with racing!"

you cringed, wishing the ground would swallow you up. but jenson squeezed your hand reassuringly. "well, i guess you could say she has good taste."

your family laughed, and to your relief, the conversation shifted back to more mundane topics. as the evening wore on, you found yourself relaxing again, especially as jenson handled your family's questions and quirks with ease.

later, as you walked him to his car, jenson turned to you with a smile. "your family is great. and the posters... well, they make me feel like i've been a part of your life for longer than i knew."

you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "honestly? i'm just glad you didn't run for the hills.”

he hummed and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "not a chance. besides, who wouldn't want to date their biggest fan?"

#ham1lton’s drabbles 🝮#formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #jenson button x reader #jenson button x you #jb22 x reader

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 5 hours

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Leave My Wife Alone (Art Donaldson)

Description: Y/N wants to Retire but Tashi isn’t okay with that.

Word Count: 753

Request: If you’re still taking requests could you write a fic for Art Donaldson pls: where he’s married to the reader who is a retired tennis player who Tashi became a huge fan of during college, when YN retires Tashi becomes bitter that she did and tries to pressure her into coming out of it, and it makes Art so upset that he confronts her about her about bothering his wife and her obsession with her life

Y/N Donaldson was a famous name through Tennis. Well Y/N Y/L/N was but when her and Art got married she changed her last name to his. The Donaldsons. They both were big tennis players, loved throughout the community. Tashi Duncan was Y/N’s biggest fan. They met in College and Y/N was surprised that when she faced off against Tashi she was a good sport about it.

Tashi was known for not being a good sport but since she was a huge Y/N fan she was honored. Thus began the friendship that they have now. Tashi and Y/N always talked about Tennis. It was their favorite Topic. When Y/N and Art got married Tashi was her maid of honor. “I want to retire.” She told Art as they ate dinner. Art was playing a challenger so they were at a luxury Hotel. “Are you sure?” He asked. She nodded.

“Yup. I’m 32 years old. I think this is it for me and I want to start a family.” The last part made him smile. Art always wanted kids but figured it would be best to wait for the right time. “Whatever you do I’ll support. I just don’t know about Tashi.” Tashi was gonna be heartbroken. “Well I’m sure she’ll understand.” Y/N said not believing her own words. “Will she though?” Art asked unsure. “I mean you’re still playing.” “Yeah but she doesn’t care about Art Donaldson, she cares about Y/N Donaldson.”

She smiles at the use of his last name after her first. She loved it. “I will tell her when the time is right.” Y/N said and got up with her plate. No time was right. They both knew that. As she was washing her plate she felt Art behind her. His breath was hitting her neck, “So is it too early to start thinking about a baby?” He asked. She giggled and turned around to face him, “Never.” She said and kissed him. He lifted her up onto the table and smiled against her lips.

“So I’ve been thinking a lot about this and I want to retire.” She shut her eyes tight after she Tashi. Tashi felt the world stop. This was her biggest fear. Since she couldn’t play Tennis anymore, Y/N was her way in. “No. You can’t.” She said. “Tashi, I’m 32 now and I want a family.” “You have a family. You don’t need to quit Tennis for that.” Y/N looked at her as she ranted. “I mean you’re the best Tennis player right now, why stop now?”

“Tashi I understand but-” “If I could still play I would. I would have never thrown it away.” “Tashi I’m not throwing it away. Wait, is that what this is about? You can’t play Tennis so I should?” “No, I just think you still have a lot of years left in you.” “Art is still playing.” Y/N said. “Art is nowhere near as good as you are. I care about Y/N Donaldson not Art Donaldson.”

Art was pissed. He knew that Tashi was going to be this way but he still had a little hope that she would be a good friend. “I mean she said that you shouldn’t quit because she never got the chance to play like this?” He asked. “It was implied.” Art was so mad at Tashi for implying that. It was sickening. He was wide awake when Y/N went to sleep. He stared at the ceiling as he thought about what Tashi said to his wife. How could she? Y/N was a great player but she deserved to be happy and not have Tennis be her life forever.

He got up quietly and took his phone with him. He went to Tashi’s contact and hit call. He waited as it rang. “Hello?” She answered. “Listen, I understand that you didn’t get your big dreams of Tennis but that does not mean Y/N has to suffer for it. What you said today was so uncool and you aren’t a very good friend.

You only care about Tennis and you are so obsessed with her career that it’s gonna kill you when she retires because you’ll have nothing left. You only care about one thing and it’s Tennis not her well being or anything like that. Just Tennis. It’s Pathetic Tashi.” He said and hung up the phone. He sighed and went back to the bedroom. He got in bed and could actually fall asleep. Though he wasn’t ready for what Tashi was gonna say tomorrow.

#challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x you #tashi duncan #tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan imagine #patrick zweig #mike faist #josh o'connor #zendaya

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cerealbishh · 3 days

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"We get to, this season, explore their chemistry and their real love and their intimacy. So we get to have a glimpse into that world that just feels so pure and beautiful and romantic! And then, sort of navigating those other circumstances once they're out in the world, dealing with real... challenges." - Isa in an interview with The Knockturnal(x)

#outer range s2 #outer range s2 spoilers #maria olivares #rhett abbott #isabel arraiza #lewis pullman #rhett x maria #i know the last gif is blurry but trust me she was holding his arm and i just thought that was adorable #i might add a lew quote if he ever gets asked about outer range s2 in an interview smh(i'm begging someone to ask him more about it!)...#she is always going to pull him in for a kiss like how she pulled him in for a small peck in s1 #the biggest fucking grin on her face whenever they kiss #if we ever get caressing of the faces or hand kisses it's over for me #i feel like i could hear an ''i love you'' sometimes with how they just look at each other? crazy #her smile and him smiling back at her before the forehead kiss is EVERYTHING to me #also her little smile as he kisses the side of her head like she knows he's doing his best and doesn't really blame him for anything? uGH #there was an article that said that maria and rhett may screw royal over? i say they should go for it!#truly if it gives isa and lew more screen time i'm all for it!#i say all this but i still want a spin-off of them just on a roadtrip #truly i thought their journey would a little bit be like orpheus and eurydice a la hadestown because i assume he'd be busy #she'd just be looking for a way out of wabang while not really acting on it but then she just up and leaves when she can't handle waiting #i am convinced that he kisses her just because he thinks she's being really cute #they're so annoying... y'all haven't even been dating that long and you're acting like this!! smh /j #i kinda had a feeling that was maria in the trailer doing something to rhett in the trailer(iykyk) and my heart still fell into my stomach #i'm not including any dream/nightmare sequences because as far as we know they can't see the future... right?#do i sound stupid and biased? maybe... please don't judge me

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mynameismckenziemae · 2 days

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All of Me

Part 6

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: A fun day at the beach and even more once you get home.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, teasing, orgasm delay/denial, getting aroused in public, femdom kind of?, mutual masturbation, use of ‘good boy’, use of ‘yes ma’am’, idk probably more. Lmk if I missed anything

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Do you guys know each other?” Bradley asks, nodding to Jake as the teams finish divvying up.

“Kind of. We’ve met in passing on base,” you lie.

“He’s single, good looking-What? I have eyes,” Bradley scoffs when you give him a look. “He met Drew at a boys' night and was really good with him. He’s a little young for you, Grandma, but that’s never stopped you before.”

“Oh, whatever,” you laugh, but consider his words. One of the biggest reasons you were hesitant to date was Drew and he’s already fond of Jake.

You don’t dwell on it as the game begins.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The Southern California sun is hot and your coverup is stripped off 15 minutes into the game.

Even though his gaze is hidden by his aviators, you can feel Jake’s eyes raking over your exposed skin and the same modest top you had on earlier. He turns his head away when fix your strap with a snap.

“I’ve got Roo!” Drew calls before the final play. “Jake, cover my mom. She’s pretty good for a girl.”

He giggles when you narrow your eyes at him.

Bradley gives you a nod before you take off running when he yells hike.

Jake’s hot on your heels until you take a sharp left as Bradley throws the ball.

“Shit,” is all you from behind you as catch it and take off.

You turn around right before the end zone to face him. “That’s a tie,” you grin as you step back over the line.

Jake just gives you a smile as he bends at the waist to catch his breath.

“I told you she’s good,” Drew pants as catches up and slaps Jake on the back. “No worries.”

“Thanks, bud,” Jake laughs as he straightens and looks at you when he says, “Yeah, she is good.”

“Roo said to let you know the food is ready and that I should hurry back or he’ll drink the only grape soda!” Drew says hurriedly, already running back towards Penny’s where the rest of the group is already inside.

Bradley doesn’t even like grape soda. The wannabe matchmaker did this on purpose.

“I think I’m gonna take a dip in the water first,” Jake says with a sigh .

“But it’s freezing,” you say, turning to look at him. His eyes are on your ass where your shorts have ridden up from your run.

“Exactly,” he replies with a grimace looking down at his obvious erection. “I feel like a teenager again. I was okay until you took your shirt off and started running around.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, not sorry at all.

“No you’re not,” he laughs.

“No, I’m not,” you bite your lip as you look him over, wanting nothing more to jump his bones.

“Fuck, you’re just making it worse,” he groans, looking over your shoulder at the house before giving you a quick kiss. “I’ll meet you inside.”

You make your way back, laughing when you hear him curse at the frigid water.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Another round of football, swimming, and s’mores by the fire has the time passing quickly.

“Can I go watch a movie with Elsie?” Drew asks, stifling a yawn after finishing his second s’more.

“Sure, as long as Pen says it’s okay,” you tell him, brushing his hair off his forehead.

He looks so much like Andy that it hurts.

“She did, I asked her first,” he says, eyes searching for someone. “Jake, do you wanna come with me? Bob’s in there too.”

“Oh bud, he-“ you start but Jake’s already standing.

“Sure,” he gives you a wink as follows Drew inside.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You plan to check on Jake but get distracted talking to Nat and Callie.

“She’s not the only one who fell asleep,” Bob smiles at you when he brings a sleeping Elsie outside 45 minutes later.

“That doesn’t surprise me with all the fresh air he got today,” you reply, stifling a yawn of your own. “Have a good night.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“I’m gonna head out, guess Drew’s already asleep,” you find Bradley before heading in the house.

“Me too. I put his bag in your car already,” he replies, hugging you.

“Thanks again Roo,” you say, squeezing him before pulling back. “For everything.”

“Any time,” he gives you a smile as he heads to the Bronco.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You head inside quietly after saying goodbye to everyone else.

The sight you walk in on has you stopping in your tracks.

They’re both asleep; Drew against Jake’s shoulder and Jake’s head resting on his.

You quietly pull your phone from your pocket and capture the moment but the shutter sound of your camera has Jake’s eyes blinking open.

You can feel a crack forming in the solid fortress constructed around your heart when he smiles down at Drew’s sweet, sleeping face.

You are fucked.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Drew doesn’t rouse as Jake carries him to your car nor when he gets him buckled in.

“Thanks,” you murmur as he closes the door softly. “He’s getting too big for me to carry.”

“No problem,” his eyes flick to your lips like he wants to kiss you, but he hesitates, looking to the backseat.

“Let me walk you to your truck,” you giggle, taking his hand; he’s parked next to you.

You pull him around the tailgate and press him up against the rear driver’s doors; glancing to make sure you and Jake’s hidden from Drew’s line of sight. Then you kiss him.

A low rumble leaves his throat at the touch of your lips. It gets hot and heavy fast; he can’t think to do more than anchor himself to your hips in a tight grip as one of your hands pushes into his hair, the other sliding down his chest to palm him over the thin fabric of his swim trunks.

You swallow his needy groans as you move your hand slowly up and down, going faster the more desperate he sounds.

“Reese,” he gasps, pulling from your lips. “Slow-ah, I’m getting close.”

“Not until I say so,” you remind him, your hand keeping the unrelenting pace.

A strangled noise leaves him and his fingers grip your hips even tighter as his head falls back against his truck window at your words.

“I-I’m not gonna be able to stop if you keep going like that,” he rasps.

You keep going, reveling at the tortured look on his face before leaning in to whisper, “You can cu-“

“Mom?” The sound of Drew opening his door has you jumping apart. “Where are you?”

“I’m coming,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just saying goodnight to Jake.”

“Okay,” you can hear him yawn. “Night Jake.”

“Night bud.”

You let out the breath you’re holding when the door clicks shut.

“Goodnight Jake,” you whisper, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before stepping away. “Text me when you get home.”

“I will,” he nods, giving you a smile through the pain.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Getting a sleepy Drew into the house is a process, but after a few tears and a trip to the bathroom, he’s down for the night.

Jake’s texted you by the time you crawl into bed.

Jake: I made it home.

Reese: Us too.

Jake: Drew fall back asleep?

Reese: Yeah. I made him go to the bathroom and brush his teeth. He wasn’t too happy with me 😂 I’m not sure if he was even fully awake.

Jake: God, he’s cute. Fell asleep halfway through telling me about last night's boys' night.

Reese: What’d they get up to?

Jake: …you know I can’t tell you that. I already betrayed their trust by telling you about the Padres game.

Reese: 🙄

Reese: I was gonna FaceTime you while I masturbate but now I don’t know.

Jake: Fuck.

Jake: Fuckkkkkkk.

Jake: Still can’t do it. Sorry.

You laugh as you open your bedside drawer to find your vibrator before pressing the FaceTime button.

“Hey,” his flushed face greets you almost immediately.

“Hi,” you smile. “How are you doing?”

“I’m miserable,” he admits and his breath hitches when your hand holding the toy comes into view. “I’ve been hard since you left.”

“Poor thing,” you coo as you set your phone up on the nightstand so he can see more of you. “I guess you can touch yourself while you watch. But I want to see you.”

He releases the breath he was holding as he scrambles to set up his phone too.

As he does that, you slip the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing off, leaving you naked.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he pushes down the sheet, fisting himself with a grunt. His cock is an angry red and already dripping precum.

“So are you.” You turn on the vibrator and trail it over your nipples, gasping at the echoing sensation it causes between your legs. “Go slow,” you warn him softly. “I haven’t decided if you can cum yet.”

His eyes fall close as his body shudders but he obeys and slows his strokes.

As much as you want to drag this out, your arousal is already coating your thighs as you bring the toy down your body and you press it straight to your clit with a gasp.

“Fuck,” he rasps as he watches with rapt attention.

“Fuck,” you agree as you turn up the speed, already feeling the tells of an orgasm approaching. “I’m already close. You’ve had me worked up all day.”

“Really?” He asks, surprised. “Never would’ve guessed. You’re so composed.”

“I’m g-good at hiding it,” you explain, eyes falling close and gasping as welcome your first orgasm.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Jake’s eyes are shut tight when you’re able to open yours. He’s breathing heavily and has a tight grip on the base of his cock as he fights his own release.

“Good boy,” you whisper, smiling at the way he jerks. “Watch me again and I’ll you cum with me after this one.”

He groans as if he’s in pain but his eyes flicker open.

Just a hair-trigger away from spilling, he doesn’t release the tight grip on himself; a punched out sound leaves him as he watches you gasp and writhe through another.

“Okay, okay,” you pant as you come down. “I want you to cum with me this time.”

“Yes ma’am,” he breathes, hesitantly releasing himself with an already fucked-out expression.

“Oh, I like that,” you moan, clenching at his words as you tease the vibe over your swollen clit again.

“I’ll remember that,” he says breathlessly. “God, you’re perfect.”

You just smile.

“Reese, baby, I-I’m close,” he rasps, fully fucking his fist now. “I’m gonna-“

“Cum for me,” you rush out as you toe the edge. “Now.”

“Fuck! Reese,” he groans, hips jerking as rope after rope of cum coats his fist.

You’re unable to suppress the cry that leaves you when fall over the edge too.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Wow,” Jake chuckles.

“Yeah,” you smile as you lift your pleasure-heavy lids. “Wow.”

You prop your head on your fist, sleepy as you watch him wipe his hand and chest with tissues, wishing you were there to instead lick it up.

You talk for a few minutes and make a plan to have lunch in your office come Monday-to help his iatrophobia.

That’s what you tell yourself at least.

“Night Reese,” he murmurs, smiling at your slow blinks. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night,” you say whisper as sleep pulls you under.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

A/N: 🥹 me while writing Drew and Jake snuggling. Reese can deny it all she wants but she’s falling for him. Also, Jake reacting to be called a good boy? 🥵

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#jake hangman seresin #hangman #jake hangman seresin x you #sub jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin smut #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun smut #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #natasha trace #natasha phoenix trace

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itstheghostofmypast · 2 days

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Nah Bro!

University Student Wooyoung x (F)Reader

Summary: No, he wasn't an idiot, he knew what he wanted and he always had, the only problem was he wasn't sure if she wanted the same. He was her friend, her biggest supporter, and her shelter on rainy days- but he was NOT her bro.

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 7.6k

Est. Read Time: 37 min

Warnings: language, suggestive content, Woo's a perv and she ain't any better.

Rating: Mature

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Banner: @cafekitsune

"Wooyoung?"

His head whipped in her direction, his signature smile gracing his face as he saw her approach her with her usual expressions filled with scepticism.

"In the flesh" he smiled down at her, the students around then slowly disappearing into nothing, the world halting at the perfect time when the rays of light seeping through the glass windows, reflecting off her lashes and skin, giving off an ethereal glow, the way the wind was just blowing right, her summer dress swaying like nature itself was flirting with her, asking her for a dance, how the birds began to harmonise, in the joy of her being here and-

"Is calling someone girlie pop considered flirting?"

"Ye- what? Who's flirting with you?" all too quickly the world around him shattered, coming back to its usual hustle and bustle, the frat boys a bit too loud and a bit too annoying, the girls passing by distracting her as one of them called her out, asking her to have lunch with them, and just to top it all off, Choi San just happened to pop by tapping his shoulder, to ruing the mood.

"Get lost, Choi."

"What? I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"

"GO."

"FINE."

The two exchanged a look as the taller male caught the way his friend was eying the girl talking to the other girls, giggling about something- no, someone. Bloody Park Seonghwa.

"You should tell her." he nudged Wooyoung who swatted his hand away and whispered back, "And you should f**k off."

With that he marched away, leaving San standing there in the middle of the hallway. The idiot also forgot that when she turned around to look for him, she couldn't find him, but she saw San making her way to him she smiled, "Did Woo leave?"

"Uh- yeah he had a class."

"Really? Did he take a course I'm not in?"

Never had Choi San in his life felt the urge to murder someone, it would be Wooyoung for leaving him alone with her, knowing fully well he couldn't really lie to her, especially when she was looking around for her Woo like a lost puppy.

Clearing his throat the feline-eyed man nodded towards the exit, "I think he went that way, I'm gonna go there too if you wanna tag along..." he trailed off when he noticed she wasn't listening anymore, in fact, she was too busy staring at someone else, a certain literature major, one who had the face structure of a Greek god but the personality of a pleasant old lady, Park Seonghwa- oh. Seonghwa wasn't a bad person, no, he was great, but his reputation of being a flirt was somewhat of a bother- perhaps because he was a senior and his merry band of friends comprised every handsome man in the lot, music major Kim Hongjoong, IT genius Jeong Yunho and the upcoming model, plus business major Kang Yeosang- truthfully, San doesn't blame her for basking in the attention Seonghwa had started giving her, most girls would throw themselves at them- then often politely get rejected (unless of course, you had the unfortunate luck of confessing to Hongjoong, who'd often have his earphones plugged in, ignoring you and walking all over you heart as he walked away), and if Seonghwa had actually put in the effort of talking to her, then there was something about her that had intrigued the shy extroverted man.

"Hmm?" She looked away, ducking her head to hide the blush that had spread across her face when Seonghwa passed by, giving her an acknowledging smile, damn, Wooyoung really did need to step up his game.

"Wanna go look for Wooyoung?"

"Oh! YEAH! LET'S GO SANNIE! HE HAD TEACH ME HOW TO FLIRT!” She yelled, much like the lunatic who was hopelessly falling for her each day, grabbing San's bag as she dragged him out, or trying to, because she really couldn't move him an inch "Let's go-"

With a soft chuckle, he took her bag from her, watching her glare up at him all confused, "It's the other way, come on, little minx."

"Ow-" he hissed, his hand going to the back of his head, as he turned to glare at San- "AYE CHOI, YOU WANNA DIE?" He threatened the taller man who was wearing two backpacks, each slung over one shoulder- wait why is he doing that?

"It was me, idiot." He heard from beside him, as he turned to look at her before pouting, "Teach me how to flirt." His pout morphed into a face of disgust, moving a step back from her, crossing his arms over his chest as he scanned her frame, making sure she would become hyper-aware of his gaze and self-conscious, borderline uncomfortable.

"I'll..." San turned his head to spot a small ice cream stall, man, he loved business week, "Get us some ice cream."

Pulling her jacket closer to her she whined, kicking her feet, "D-dont look at me like that."

"Why?" He asked moving closer, enough for her to take a step back as she looked up at him, his gaze piercing through her, keeping her rooted at the spot when he took one final step closer to her, making sure to maintain eye contact, a rocky little smirk made its way on his handsome face as he invaded more of her personal space, eyes flicking to her lips, the residue of the shiny gloss teasing him, taunting him, tempting him, though the way her lips quirked into a frown had him scoff, and glance back up at her, feeling her palms flatten against his chest. Still, she didn't push him, of course, giving him unintentional mixed signals was her favourite hobby. He pressed his forehead against hers, whispering, "You wanna learn how to flirt but can't even look me straight in the eye."

"I-I" her hands gripped onto his shirt, twisting it in her sweaty grip as she felt him let out an airy chuckle, when she continued, "I-this isn't..." Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes, causing him to smile, following along, enjoying the -

"MOTHER F*CKER- YOU BI- WHAT THE HELL!?" Stumbling back, he yelled like a madman, pressing his palm against his nose before feeling the blood trickle out, "ARE YOU INSANE? THAT'S WHY YOU'RE ALWAYS GOING TO BE SINGLE!" His shrill causing the student passing by to give them strange looks.

"What...the hell guys...I was gone for 10 minutes?" San mumbled, walking over to them with ice lollies in hand, the sight before him annoying, but not new or unexpected- this was a common occurrence, one he had been forced to see since the first semester of starting his not-so-peaceful university life.

"He was harassing me."

"HARASSING- HARASSING YOU? YOU FREAKY GREMLIN YOU SLAMMED YOUR HEAD ON MY NOSE!? FOR WHAT!?" He snatched the cold packaged good from the quiet man, who gave him a look of concern, "Go to the nurse Woo-"

"SHUT UP CHOI." He hissed, pressing the packaged ice good against his nose as he walked over towards a bench, ignoring the whining menace following him behind, calling him out as she sat down next to him, wrapping her arms around his arm, pulling him closer, clinging onto him she placed her head on his shoulder, "Come on Woo, I'm not gonna do anything bad or careless, I'll keep you well informed."

Letting out a huff he leaned his head onto hers, of course, he was still angry, but his body would often react on his own around her, a fact he discovered back in middle school, the first time he had seen her, the first time he had embarrassed himself in front of her.

The 10-year-old boy, the 'king' of the playground, was busy ordering his loyal servants around in the sandbox when this little critter popped up, marching over to him with watery eyes and a runny nose, her fists clenched by her side as she stomped into the sandbox shoving away his 'royal guards' and pointing at him, "Are you the king?"

"Who wants to know!?" Smirking he adjusted his robes- towels, the guest towels he stole from home- atop his head that his paper crown, an ugly orange colour might she add.

Sniffing she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand before looking at him, "I want to ride the swings!" She yelled at him, before moving closer to shove him- mind you, she only did so because her parents had always told her never to back down when she was in the right- and two mean boys not letting her on the swings because their king said so was not right.

Steadying himself he glared at her, eying her up and down, he was a feminish or fashionist or something like that, his mother told him to be one too, so equal rights it is, which is why he shoved her harder watching her land on her butt, laughing in the process as his loyal servants began to laugh too- that his until he saw the dejected look on her face, he had assumed she would fight back like most kids, but she got up, wiped her eyes and slowly walked away with her head hung in shame, something about the little girl all sad in her floral summer dress had him feel all funny in his stomach- or chest? The point is he initially ignored it, too focused on his victory, happy the king remained all-powerful.

What he did not expect was the peasant girl to come to his house with her parents- what a snitch. That night Wooyoung had to apologise to her, not because he took the swings because as his mother quoted while pinching his ear, "A FEMINIST DOESN'T HIT A WOMAN. HE BEFRIENDS HER." Ah, so it was feminist. Though her parents had not come to complain, they had actually moved in as neighbours and wanted to meet their neighbours, his family, but who knew the youngest (for now) child of the Jung household had left a bad impression on the Lee Family's one and only Princess. Since that day his mother had forced him to befriend her, to go over to her house and play, to drop her off to her class- thankfully they were not in the same section, but that's because she was smart and well...he was good-looking.

Perhaps it was fate that had him slowly understanding her awkward and shy nature, how she was somewhat similar to him when it came to what she wanted, she'd whine and complain but the only difference between the two was that she'd always find a way to get it- want a Lego set? Get good grades and you will- she did. Want to eat ice cream? Eat your veggies, she did, she even ate his.

Wooyoung, nah, he wasn't one to take such big risks, to come out of his comfort zone. In fact, after the arrival of the youngest new addition to the Jung family, Wooyoung wasn't happy, what teenager wants a baby brother? Who does that? The night his brother was born, he wasn't at the hospital like his father or his older brother and the Lee family, including her, no, he had climbed up the rusty pipe she had told him a billion times not to use, plucked open the lock of her window and entered her dark room- yes, her parents knew he would do that, his parents knew too, he was the only one allowed to that, for a king is ever ready to go to his queen, especially at the time of distress. He took a step into her bedroom, taking off his shoes and placing them on the small shoe rack set next to the window for him, and hopped onto her bed, stuffing his face into her pillows, her peach shampoo smothering him with affection, before letting out a strangled cry, which opened the flood gates to a tsunami of everything, he had been bottling up since the news of his mother's pregnancy had surfaced. The way his friends teased him, calling it gross, the way everyone was now busy not paying attention to him, the way he was no longer important. Why were they having another child anyway? Was he not enough? Of course, he wasn't as perfect as his older brother but were they only trying again because they were fed up with him? He was leaving for college soon- were they replacing him?

He really didn't know how long it went on for, but a few too many tears later, his eyes had dried out, but his laboured breathing hadn't ceased, that us until he felt calming fingers sift through his hair, the bed dipping beside him as he heard a gentle, "Woo...I knew I'd find you here- staining my sheets with your snot, you giant baby."

Ah, she never was gentle with her words, perhaps that is what karma was, making him fall for her, probably harder than he had pushed her when they were kids, watching him simmer in her snarky comments and such mixed cues of attention- well perhaps that's what he deserved for being a b*tch all the time- I'd didn't matter, for a king always gives into his queen.

Sighing he tried to move, only to freeze when he realised her entire weight was on him, his eyes meeting San who was frowning at him, though the broad-shouldered man holding a raspberry lolly looked comical, especially when he glared at him like that.

“What?”

“She’s asleep Jung.”

“No way? Really?” He scoffed, gently manoeuvring her to lay her head on his thigh, brushing the hair out of her eyes, before reaching for San’s cap on the wooden table, ignoring the man as he placed it on her eyes, shielding her from the horrid, too bright and ugly sun.

“You’re hopeless.” He huffed before standing up, collecting the trash and slinging his bag over his shoulder, “Just…don’t do something you’ll regret, man.”

“What are you? The Magic-Eight ball or something.” He mumbled, before waving him off, “Be gone, now, I’m sure that girl from ‘Philosophy’ is waiting for you at the library to pull out books from the top shelf for her again.” He smirked, watching the way San’s face flushed at the mention of his somewhat secret crush, mumbling some very vulgar words at Wooyoung before stomping away.

“Okay, there, all better.”

“Kiss it better.”

She moved back to stare at him, extremely close to smacking him once more but decided not to when he sat there with his eyes closed for her. Rolling her eyes, she leaned closer placing a quick peck on the tip of his nose before quickly hopping off the bed, mumbling about what kind of idiot he was, not catching the way he was smiling like an idiot at her. She was wearing one of his hoodies, he liked that, they were in her dorm room, he liked that, he was surrounded by her, he really liked that- truth be told he had followed her to this university as well, honestly, sometimes he did think of blurting it out to her- but was it worth ruining everything with her, just to satisfy his itty-bitty heart that had begun to beat for nothing but her.

“So, will you help me or not?”

Her question caught her off guard, eying the way she sat down across him, placing a bowl of chips between them, “Woo, will you teach me how to flirt or not?” pushing the bowl towards him as he sighed before shrugging, “Why do you wanna learn anyway-

“Because I like Park Seonghwa!” she whined, “He’s so pretty and sweet and he’s a wonderful senior and-

“If a guy likes you, he likes you for you, not because you learn how to flirt.” He cut her off before picking up a chip and placing (shoving) in her parted mouth, cackling when she choked on it, smacking his hand away as she turned around and swallowed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and turning to glare at him, “Funny how I’ve been doing that since high school and I have never even gone on a date- I am not even remotely likeable.”

“You don’t need to go on a date to deduce if you’re likeable or not.”

“How can you say that!? Do you like me?”

“Yes.”

For a moment his quick sat between them, staring at the two as she looked at him wide-eyed, scanning his face like a curious, scared kitty, only to be met with an intense stare, his eyes staring- no piercing through her soul as if he were trying to say something without saying it, do something without doing it, feel something without feeling it. Ever so slowly he moved closer to her, watching her breath hitch, fingers gripping her sweatpants as he stopped to look at her before giving her a soft smile, trying to read her, yet his signal was not transmitted for once again their frequencies did not match, causing him to move back and look away, scanning her studio apartment, a piece of him was in this room- no, several little pieces of him were present within this canvas, traces of his soul, the scent of his being; from his spare sneakers to his scarf on the kitchen chair, to the coat hanging off the coat hook on the main door, to his ‘special morning Garfield mug on the dishrack.’

“Woo…” she whispered, causing him to slowly turn back to look at her, a small melancholic smile gracing his features, one she noted as she gulped, though her parched throat made swallowing difficult- no, she was reading this wrong, Wooyoung deserved, Wooyoung wanted far more than her, he always had, he always will.

“Let’s do it.” Smiling he stood up before stretching, ignoring how she was staring up at him as he scratched his head before looking around, “It’s getting late, I promised San I’ll cook tonight.”

“Yo-you don’t have to, I can-”

“Classes start tomorrow, after four, there are two conditions.” He cut her off, walking over to the door as he pulled off his coat, staring at it for a moment before hanging it back on her door- why not let his presence be there till it was time to move out- “First, I will accept your payment in meals, after every lesson you will treat me to a home-cooked meal and secondly, you will do whatever I say, do we have a deal?”

Walking over to him she stood in the hallway, staring up at him in awe, the warm light above him hitting just right, accentuating his features in a way that her heart may as well have hopped onto his palm if she were to stare at him for any longer, so all she could do was nod at his deal, all she could do was stand there when he placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze before pressing his forehead against hers, mumbling, “See you tomorrow, my little gremlin.”

“God, I- I am not wearing this” she huffed throwing the top back at him as he rolled his eyes, holding it up by the strings, “This, is a summer dress, with spaghetti strings, many girls wear it and I think- Seonghwa would like it.”

Sighing in defeat she took it from him, before walking over to the washroom to change, leaving him sitting on the bed as he looked around her room, lying down as he sighed, arms behind his head as he stared up at the cheap 3D glowing stars on the ceiling, one’s they had put stuck up on the ceiling the on the first night she had moved into her dorm, making the zodiac constellation for him and her, then the two had laid there, side by side, staring up at it until they eventually fell asleep in each other’s arms.

“H-how do I look?”

His eyes snapped open at her voice turning his head to inspect her, only to end up feeling like he was punched in the gut, the air knocked right out of him, slowly sat up as he turned to her, eyes roaming every inch of her frame, he had seen her wearing his clothes so much, that he had forgotten that she indeed was much smaller than him- no- she indeed was a girl.

“W-Woo?”

Clearing his throat, he stood up and smiled at her, “You look like you can flirt.” Giving her a thumbs up he grabbed her hand and walked towards the main door, making sure to grab his wallet and phone, ignoring her babbling, “Now, we see what you do on a date- you gotta experience it girlie, a café date is the best of its kind.”

That was exactly how she had found herself stuck to him as the two walked down the pathway to the local café, the setting sun doing her a favour and not burning against her skin, though the wind only had her feeling conscious, especially when the ends of the tied strings would tickle her shoulders or the hem of her dress would tease her, causing her to grip his arm, pulling him closer for some form of support. Wooyoung on the other hand, no he was having the time of his life, never had he felt something so soft and warm press up against him and he thanked that horrid magazine he had found with dating advice for the choice of dress he had picked for her, the pastel pink mid-thigh dress really did do her wonders, really did make him feel like he was in high school again-

“Woo…I feel like everyone is s-staring.” She mumbled, pressing her face into his arm as he sighed, “Babe, it's not like you’ve never worn a dress before, sure this one is a little more on the bolder side but-” his words came to a halt when his eyes met with a glossy pair, one pleading him to save him from the way the boys around them were eying her down, sizing her up.

“Thank you, Woo.” She smiled, pulling his denim jacket close to her frame as she sat on the opposite chair, glad that most of her body was covered again, especially from prying eyes, “I knew I could count on you.”

Taking her out was a bad idea, not only was she gaining a lot of attention but she was making it difficult for him to hold himself back, to keep those three words, not the redundant and overused "I like you" but a feeling he had been covering with layers and layers of sarcasm and petty fights, a feeling his heart could never truly accept, could never truly feel, could ever truly float in, even if it were drowning in it, "Love me too".

The cafe trip was cut short when the very nice waitress was kind enough to point out how cute of a couple they were, and instead of letting her correct the waitress, he cut her off with a small thank you, then looked at her. What did that mean? Was he trying to teach her? Was this part of flirting? She did not understand.

It irked him how she was clueless, how she wanted him to spell it out for her but he wasn't going to, not when the fear of rejections loomed over him, waiting for the right moment to slice the beating pound of flesh in his chest in half. The walk home had been uncomfortable, she was no longer clinging onto him, and the jacket had provided her enough cover, but he'd be lying if he were to say he didn't like it on her. At least there was part of him she was willing to hold onto, even if it was temporary. The walk home was silent, eerie, quiet and perhaps a bit too loud with the sound of anything but them, that is until he finally stopped at the door of her dorm room, staring at her when she unlocked the door and walked inside, leaving it open for him, only for her to turn around in the small, dimly lit corridor of the entrance to look at him, look up at him all confused and doe eyed, in his garment, covering her frame, her eyes swirling with a form of curiosity that had his fingers twitching, his soul begging to be set free from the confines of his useless flesh, "Woo?"

"Next lesson...is...indoors, I'll text the details." With that he had closed the door but did not leave, instead, he waited outside, waiting for her to lock it, his forehead resting against the mahogany, counting till ten, sighing in relief when he heard the gentle click. This was a bad idea. He was so pathetic he told her he would help her, yet he couldn’t even pull through one day properly, some best friend he was.

She lay awake the entire night, tossing at turning in bed as every 10 minutes she would check her phone for his text, but there was none. He had not even responded to her goodnight message, prick. That was exactly why she was late to class, and almost thrown out too but the lecturer had not been too busy trying to actually figure out how to use the projector. She had slipped in, trying to find an empty spot, which she did after a couple of minutes, choosing to sit in the only available seat at the corner of the class, she sighed, taking out her book, only to pause when she heard someone groan next to her, turning to the source of noise she let out a small gasp.

“What the hell happened to you?” she whispered, leaning closer to the hunched-over figure in black, as she yanked back the hood of his hoodie, earning another small whine.

“Stop…yelling.” He mumbled, pressing his forehead against the table.

“I’m not, Woo.” With a sigh she ran her fingers through his hair, trying to figure out what on earth he had done this time. It was uncommon for her to find her Wooyoung this battered and bruised, it was uncommon for her to find her Wooyoung this tired, just blatantly showing all his bits that he wasn’t proud of, to her or the world, “Were you drinking last night…I thought you were going to text me the details.”

‘I was drinking to get you off my damn mind’, is what he wanted to say, but when he snapped his head in her direction, he was met by a gaze so endearing, a gaze that held a certain affectionate warmth to it, one that made him wonder if he were ready to let this very being that frustrated him and infatuated him with an unimaginable amount of love slip through his fingers. So, after a moment of thinking, he turned back to the board and slowly nodded, “I…Let’s go after class…next lesson…wake me up at the end?”

“Why were you drinking mid-week anyway?” she asked, though he never answered, instead he slowly pushed her upper body away from the table, only to lean down onto her lap, his head resting on her thighs as he closed his eyes, mumbling an, “Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answer to.”

What did that even mean? Honestly, he had become very difficult for her to read, sometimes she assumed it was because he had no interest in her, other times she just thought it was not difficult because of the crush she had developed on him- one that was pointless since he never really noticed the hints she’d drop, she knew for him, she’d always be the goody-two-shoes that lived next door. But then again, she was never his type, she was not like any of his exes, in both physical presence and mentally- well, she didn’t want to be like them in terms of mental state- most were more interested in his physical presence than who he was as a person- then he’d come running back to her, and every time he would she’d tell him the same thing, “That’s what you get for someone dating someone who doesn’t like animals.” Though he’d argue with the ‘Yah! Do I look like a dog to you?’, that wasn’t it though- or maybe she was calling him a dog, who was to say? The fact of the matter was, at the end of the day, she would always be his just best friend, and this is why Seonghwa had happened to slip into the picture, she needed to move on, and maybe someone as sweet, smart and smokin’ hot (she should stop spending so much time with Wooyoung) would be good for her.

“Wakey, wakey, you successfully slept through an hour-long lecture.” Carding her finger through his hair she frowned when he clenched his eyes shut, why was he being so difficult? Was he trying to avoid her or something else? Was he tired of her being around him all the time? Did he not text her last night because he wanted her to drop it? The whole Seonghwa thing because maybe he knew she was hopeless, if him knowing her for years led to nothing, how would a stranger, a handsome, well-mannered, angel-like stranger like her and-

“Are you constipated?”

“Huh?” Casting her eyes down at him, she met a curious, droopy gaze, it was only then that she realised that she had been absentmindedly caressing his cheek, drawing intricate patterns on his soft skin, though even at the realisation she did not stop- how could she? Perhaps this was the last time she’d ever touch him, ever be this intimate with him. Sighing she shook her head, mumbling, “No…why?”

“Then why are you frowning like that?” he groaned, sitting up, stretching his arms over his head before letting out a loud, ungraceful yawn and scratching his head, looking around the empty class- if he were to make out with her right now, they would never even be caught- Wooyoung, you’re not even dating her- true, but the way she had been pouting just made him want to- “Where are you going?” he turned to her when he heard her shuffle, standing up and collecting her stuff, pausing to look at him, “Going back to my dorm… I’m tired.”

With that she walked away, not sure if she was mad at him, or upset at the thought of the hemlock of reality she was to swallow eventually, maybe she just wanted him to somehow disappear- rather if he was out of sight, he’d be out of mind- right? It’s not like she had spent all night staying up waiting for his text. It’s not like she rolled around in bed before devouring an entire pastry (she had been saving for the weekend) in tension and anticipation. It’s not like she had cried herself to sleep knowing that tomorrow she’d have to wake up and pretend her heart did not beat for a man who had carelessly dropped it years ago.

“W-wait!” running after her he jogged up to her until he was walking beside her, glancing down to note how she was not even trying to look up at him with her usual smile- shit. He really messed up, he didn’t know she was so determined for Seonghwa- this thought just added more salt to the nasty green that brewed within him, the ugly, vomit-like green that had him ranting to San all night, chugging down one too many beers, enough for him to wake up with a horrible hangover that even San’s hangover juice couldn’t fix- what did that f*cker know anyway, he didn’t drink and the girl he had been pinning over had been secretly pinning over him- not that he’d help San figure out, he had his own issues, honestly liking your academic rival isn’t the smartest thing anyway.

“Well, see you later.”

With that she walked into the building, only to have him follow her, she turned to look at him as he looked down at her with a sheepish smile, a nervous chuckle breaking the silence when she raised a brow, only to die down when she turned back around and started climbing up the stairs again, only for him to follow hot on her trail. Once again stopping right behind her when she stopped to open the door-incorrect, he had bumped into her, only for her to turn around and glare at him for a good minute, only turning when he gently gripped her shoulders and turned her around to the door, mumbling, “We still have one lesson left- I’ll combine two in one, special deal for my special girl.”

Cringing at the words, that stung her heart harder than imaginable, opening the door for and entering, not really waiting for him to enter or not, as she kicked off her shoes and flopped face first on the bed.

For a moment she could hear only the clattering of pots and pans, and the sound of a microwave and then the usual, gentle, unforgettable humming began to float in the air, dancing around her being, at this point, she didn’t even know what he was singing but that it was smoothening enough to lull her to sleep.

She didn’t know how long she was asleep, but she woke up when he gently shook her, whispering nonsense in her ear- oh wait no he’s talking about food. Soon enough she was sitting on the floor, sitting in front of her was the idiot, platting for her and himself, yapping about how he spent the entire afternoon sleeping and all she did was sleep, but that’s okay because she needed the rest, the list continued; Yangnyeom Chicken, Tteok-bokki and even ordered something sweet just for her-

“Why are you being so nice?”

Her words caused him to stop, as he looked at her, eyes narrowing at her for a split second before he took a deep breath, thinking about his words then speaking, “For ghosting you last night-”

“No, that’s not what I asked, and you know it- first you said no to even helping me, then you suddenly decided to help, you made me dress differently than I do, you didn’t even let me correct the waitress when she called you my boyfriend and- and then you just let her!” she didn't know when she started yelling, but when she stopped to take a deep breath, her eyes caught the whirlpool of emotions, she probably should’ve stopped, but she didn’t, years of it boiling and bubbling within her- she felt exploited, she felt cheated and misguided- hell she was even mad at herself, she was his best friend but was that enough of a reason for her to keep hurting? Perhaps she was hurting, but she wanted him to hurt too, even if that meant she would never see him again, “Then you ghost me like I don’t even exist! What is your problem!? Don’t you see what you’re doing to me? How can you do this!?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”

The next couple of seconds were probably the worst he had ever spent in silence, his chest burning with every breath he heaved in, staring at her, the grip on his glass tightening, feeling the world around them constrict, squeezing in around them- or so he thought, he had yet to face the worst and when that moment arrived, it felt like he was slapped in the face, enough to have it stinging for days, especially when the words settled around them, the two words that she had, oh so casually, thrown at him like it didn’t matter at all like he didn’t matter at all like they never mattered at all. Instantly his brain had switched off, tuning out anything and everything that he could sense, wanting the earth to swallow him whole, wanting nothing more but to take a cold shower, to possibly feel something again, to possibly let out all he was feeling, to possibly forget her- forget them.

“Nah, bro.”

Did she f*ck up? Yes. Was she aware she f*cked up? Again, yes. She had realised what she had done as soon as the words had slipped past her lips- mind you, in her many years of being friends with this moron she had picked up a few bad habits from him, like staying up late at night, reading the end of a book first (just in case it had a sad end so she could throw it away) and perhaps losing the ability to think before she spoke- this one was a new trait she had acquired, one she had discovered just last night, as soon as he had slammed the door in her face, running away, ignoring her as she yelled out his name, waking up almost every other girl in the building. And no, he chose not to answer her calls or her texts- hell she even woke up poor San, who wasn’t at the dorm, weird, where exactly was he sleeping on a Thursday night if not at the dorm, she should ask Wooyo- oh wait, she can't! Because she F*CKED UP AND HE WAS IGNORING HER! Like hell!? She didn’t even mean the ‘Nah, bro.’ as an insult or a rejection, but for some reason after he dropped the ‘L’ bomb on her, that was all her brain could process at that given moment, perhaps because she was so stunned by the fact that he didn’t just like her back, he loved her! And she loved him. So, the nah bro was more like an ‘oh damn’, or an ‘oh god’ or an ‘oh wow’- okay, none of those seem like good responses when someone confesses to you, but see! That’s the point, it was so spontaneous- maybe she should’ve just kissed him- nah, she wouldn’t trespass his physical being like that- maybe she should’ve patted his shoulder? - wait, what if he hated her now? Realised it was a mistake and he was glad she messed up so he’d never have to see her again- oh no.

Slamming her hands on his door she let out a shaky breath, the intensity of her knocks increasing, this was not how she had expected her Sunday morning to go, breaking into the boy's dorms at university, slamming her fists so loud that the whole block may as well be awake. Was she risking expulsion, probably, but was he worth it- oh for sure.

"WOOYOUNG!"

"WHAT!"

The door slammed open, revealing a dishevelled Wooyoung, in nothing but his underwear, eyes widening at the realisation that it was in fact not Yunho who was bothering him in his early hours of brooding, but the source of his heartbreak had come to him. Now, mind you, the man lived with other men and never in his life did he imagine the girl he had been simping for, his own best friend, would come up to him in his domain like this, the same girl he had confessed to the night before, laid his heart bear and open for her to trample over like a wench- "Is that my hoodie?"

She stared at him, no, she shamelessly ogled at the boy-man- she had spent bullying and playing around with in her younger days. In front of her was not her annoying, stupid, dumb, irritating best friend but a who the fk, what the fk, why the fk- her chain of thought broke at his question.

"Wh-what?" breathing out, still trying to catch her breath from the extensive running she had done up the flight of stairs- curse him for living in a building with no elevator- that and the sight before her had her all hot and bothered even more. Note to self, this was- no wonder he was the king of the playground, she’d be his queen any day- well he did want her to be one until she managed to ‘wooyoung’ herself.

"Why-" shaking his head, he rubbed his face before crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the door frame, did she look all adorable, flushed pink, hair a mess and in his hoodie? Yes, was he still mad at her, definitely- so he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of getting a quick reaction this time. He had spent all night crying, all night wondering and thinking of all the possibilities and incidences that could have her give this kind of response, this king of rejection, for her to just…just say something like that. He tried calling San but that useless butt was sleeping at someone’s (of course it was that girl from Philosophy 101- he’d seen them giggling like teens way back in the library- see, even he had someone, public or not- so no, he was not going to give her the satisfaction of him giving into her so easily, “What do you want?"

"I- you- I mean- oh my god- we like- f*cked." the words jumbled up, tumbling out of her mouth before her brain could from the sentence, "I f*cked up, my god, I do like you."

He knew what she meant, but he wouldn't be Wooyoung if he said so, hence the crooked smile that adorned his slightly puffy face, eyes heavy and droopy with sleep, "Unfortunately we haven't, but we could if you'd like”.

She stared at him for a good second, trying to process his response before raising her hand and slapping him across the face, enough for it to echo across the corridor and him to let out a mixture of a whimper and growl, hand on his burning cheek as he glared at her through bleary eyes, “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

“ME? YOU CAN’T YELL I LOVE YOU AND THEN RUN AWAY-”

“YOU REJECTED ME! YOU CALLED ME BRO?!”

“IT WAS JUST AN EXPRESSION- I WAS SHOCKED OKAY! I DIDN’T THINK YOU LIKED ME BACK I-”

“I DON’T LIKE YOU BACK! I LOVE YOU!”

“And I’d love to report you two, but considering how I know she’s usually triggered by your stupidity, I’ll let you off with a warning.” The two turned around (well she did, he just frowned and scoffed before mumbling something and going inside the apartment), quickly bowing and apologising she stood up straight, face flushed with embarrassment, only to receive a gentle smile.

“Didn’t know you two were so dense, most of us thought you two were already dating…. anyway, please take this inside, we can’t have others know there's a girl here, as the Prefect I’ll keep it a secret since you’re my junior.” He winked before walking away- Park Seonghwa was so cool- OH WAIT WOOYOUNG.

Closing the door behind her she ran to his room only to find him putting on a shirt- dang- before he sat down on the bed and stared at her, raising an eyebrow at her pout, especially when she walked over to him and whined, flopping onto him- falling onto him- only to hiss when their heads collided as he threw her off her (next to him on the bed), whining “Are you stupid?”

“Yeah…” she whimpered, rubbing her forehead as she lay on her side, looking at his side profile, admiring his side profile, could she do this openly, since they were now a couple- or at least were going to become one? “Stupid for you.”

Turning his head to her, grimacing at the choice of her words, well, he needed to get used to the poor pick-up lines, not that he would mind of course- “I love you too.”

Her words brought him back to them, sighing when he felt her press her hand against his pink cheek, feeling her thumb caress the stinging skin, scooting closer to her as he carelessly draped an arm around her waist pulling her even closer- he wanted more, the proximity between them to completely finish, but he couldn’t push her, he could never- he knew she took things slow and he’d let her no matter how long he had to wait- his eyes widened at the sudden pressure he felt on his lips, though it was gone as soon as it came, causing him to whine, looking back at her as she covered her face with her hands, mumbling an, “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Same, sis.”

“Hey!” sitting up she glared down at him only for him to shrug, “Now you know how it felt.” He smirked all smug before moving further up the bed until his back was pressed against the padded headboard, opening his arms wide for her, a gesture the two understood all too well, a small smile gracing his lips when she instantly snuggled up in his arms, melting into his embrace when he kissed the top of her head, only for him to giggle when she returned the gesture by pressing her lips against his pulse point, feeling her warm breath against him as he sighed, “So…no more Seonghwa?”

“Only needed him to move on from you.”

“Damn…” he sighed, squeezing her closer, not that she minded, she was finally getting the attention she deserved, the love she deserved, the love they deserved. It was a moment of purity, a moment of joy, a moment of sincerity that nothing and no one could ruin- “I was my own c*ckblock.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

A/N: Well that was a long wait- not like I have a project due on Monday but damn- I'm glad I finally finished this- I really hope it is worth the read.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky @slaayysis

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keelt9 · 3 days

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Chapter 1

Masterlist

I collapse on the couch, letting my bag crash on the floor, taking a slow breath; all the walls have the same color, a creamy yellow, basic furniture already set, the only thing out of place is my suitcases… and me.

The apartment is a few blocks away of the rehabilitation center; Liam, my coach made all the arrangement for I just focus in my recover, in a couple of days we met the physiotherapist, a renowned one, Anton Guille, after a deep researched of the coaching team, he stand out as the best option for help me get through my injury.

The weather here is kind of cold, but I guess it is normal for the end of the winter, and fits perfectly with my morning. This day in particular it’s cloudy so before I leave the apartment I try to put on my hoodie.

Like a chronometer exactly after 30 minutes of his text Liam knocks the door, I rush for open as I try to put my hoodie on, just my head is in, and my shoulder is reluctant to move.

“Here, let me help you.” Liam said as he enters helps me to roll it down. “Bad day?” He asks me if I feel more pain than usual.

I grab my bag, and shake my head. “No, it’s…the painkillers are taking their time for work.”

Liams has that concern expression all over his face.

“Let’s go, or we'll be late.” I cut that thought by grabbing the keys and walking to the door, hearing him bluffing about something.

The center has those classic motivating colors, blue, green and white. As we walk to the room I keep watching different kinds of athletes training, doing rehabilitation, some with painful expressions, others with exhausted looks, and few of them with proud eyes.

We didn't have to wait because just after we closed the door, it opened again. This time, a tall man appears in sports clothes, probably in his early 30́s.

“Hello, you must be Y/N.” He walks and shakes my hand. “I’m Anton, I heard great things about you. Let me see what we are facing.”

Anton examines me with a long hard look, just with the simple touch on my shoulder I feel a hell all over my body.

“Well?” I asked him as he softly laid down my arm, he took a few notes and sat in front of us.

“It’s a severe bursitis; my biggest fear was that the damage already reached an important muscle but we are on time to avoid it.” The shoulder bursitis it’s a type of injury that used to happen for the excessive use over the shoulder, small “bags”, called <bursas> swelled up causing pain and stiffness.

I guess my expression must be talking for me because he takes a deep breath and smiles. “Don’t worry Y/N we will work harder and in a couple of months you must be brand new.”

Days passed and Anton along with Liam set a new routine for me, some changes in my daily activities and a lot in my exercises; some days I feel my body exhausted, others in a constant pain, slowly feeling my shoulder start to gain more range of movement.

“Easy Y/N, take it with calm, it’s the first day with this, don’t pressure your body.” The internal rotation stretch will help me to improve the rotation of my shoulder. Who will think grabbing a towel will be the most painful thing I do in months.

“Ok, slowly, that’s it, well done.” Anton helps me to relax my shoulder. “It’s all for today Y/N, go home, rest, sleep well, we see you tomorrow.” Liam gave me the last instructions before I went out.

I walked to the small garden the center had where a few athletes usually take their time for rest after a long session or just looking for fresh air. I checked my cell phone, stopping in the video of my team in our daily practice, even though they told me I shouldn't be sad; I can't avoid that nostalgic feeling. I was so distracted in the video that I didn't notice when my bottle of water slipped from my legs and got stuck between the crystal doors.

“Great.” I whisper, knowing that pulling it out will be a hard task. I slowly sit on the floor next to the door, seeing the wall across the garde, I stretch my left arm feeling with the tip of my fingers, the bottle not being able to grab it.

The irony of my situation makes me bluff, the only way to reach it is to twist a little bit my chest to give my left arm a few more centimeters, and grab it; as I do I feel a stabbing pain in my right shoulder. I grab the bottle but the pain is consuming me that the bottle slips one more time from my hands rolling through the floor.

I stand grabbing my shoulder but my bottle is already in front of me. “Here.”

“Thanks, sorry I’m clumsier than usual.” I grab the bottle, by the time I raise my sight his face looks familiar, but the pain clouds any coherent idea.

“Injury?” He points to my bracelet, a sign that I'm in rehabilitation. Everyone who gets in the center and is there for rehabilitation gets one.

“Shoulder bursitis.” He lends his head and pouts his mouth, I explain to him what is, he genuinely listens all the time.

“Sounds painful, still seems you're dealing really well.” I don’t know if it was sarcasm or a compliment.

“I have to, if I want to be ready.” The Archery World Cup Team Event will be next year. If I want to be there I must be with my team for the primary competitions.

“Hey Max, let’s go.” He observes that the person was at my back before extending his hand.

“I’m Max, by the way.” I took his hand and shook it. “I guess I’ll see you later.” I nod to him before he leaves the garden.

Late at night in bed my mind with painkillers working, my mind clears. Tall, blue eyes, a curious face, blue cap with the logo of Red Bull, name Max.

DAMN IT!

#fic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #max verstappen imagine

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jedi-hawkins · 13 hours

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Flowers for the Doctor

The Clones all deserve flowers! Or maybe they think you deserve flowers 😉 Either way, love is in bloom this week for the Clone Flowers Fic Event!

Throughout this week, May 20th-25th, certain participants will be posting their own fics of Clones and different flower themes that were selected! The participants as well as the Clones and flowers they will be writing for are listed below and links to each fic will be added as they are posted! 💐 Follow the tag #cloneflowerficevent to see them all as they come!!

Event Masterlist

@arctrooper69 - Tup, Rex, Gregor

@photogirl894 - Hunter, Wrecker, Fives

@nahoney22 - Fox, Tech

@totallyunidentified - 99, Cody

@dragonrider9905 - Hardcase

@l-lend - Wolffe

Make sure to go check out their entries too, we'll be posting throughout the week!

Pairing: Kix x f!reader

Chosen Flower: St. John's Wort

Word count: 3.8k

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Medical terminology, pandemic, sickness and death, brief suggestive content

Beta-read by @anxiouspineapple99

The helmet of your hazmat suit hisses as you release the seal. A deep sigh passes your lips as you step out of your suit and hang it on the rack for decontamination. When you open the door to the decontam stalls, the creak echoes around the tiled room.

'Damn. All this and we can’t even get some WD-40 on the hinges?' You think to yourself before stripping down to your skivvies and stepping under one of the spouts. The doors from the infectious disease ward open again and a friendly face steps in.

“Kix.”

He smiles at you as he strips down to his briefs and steps under a spout. “Long day, Doc?”

You can’t even muster a reply as you close your eyes and hit the red button in front of you. For just a single moment, the rest of the hospital fades away with the roar of the sonic waves washing over you, and then it’s over.

“That good, huh?” Kix notes your response, or lack thereof.

You shake your head, trying to keep it together. “I’ve had better.”

Kix holds the door to the locker room open for you as you step through. “At least you don’t have to wear the clone kit all day.” He says, tossing you a pair of clean blacks from the cabinet. “On the battlefield it’s great, but here I bump around like a pinball. I’m lucky if I can make it through the day without breaking anything.” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

The corner of your mouth does twitch a little. “I don’t know.” You respond, “I’ve always thought I looked like a hutt in those hazmat suits, and the gloves are so annoying.”

“Dinner?” Kix simply asks.

“Please.”

He leads the way to the hospital cantina. You met Kix just a couple weeks ago, but the two of you had become fast friends. He was a clone medic, sent to your planet to help in one of the hundreds of makeshift ‘hospitals’ that had popped up in the wake of a pandemic. This particular hospital was housed in an academic campus, shut down because of the spreading illness.

Normally, you were the second in command in the biggest hospital in the planet’s capital, but for the past month your days consisted of random converted buildings, biohazard suits, and patients you felt like you couldn’t do anything for. At the end of the day, you were thankful Kix had been stationed at your hospital.

Though you two were usually preoccupied with your own patients throughout the day, the pair of you could usually be found together on your breaks. It felt like Kix truly saw you and your struggle. Sure, the hospital Medical Director was the top dog, calling the shots, but you were the one in the trenches of the Infectious Disease Ward every day.

This pandemic was an enigma that you just couldn’t figure out. It should have just been the normal yearly wave of Wet Lung, easily managed by some general antibios, but those didn’t work. Then your Medical Director ordered you to move up to more aggressive drugs, so you did. Before you knew it, your patients were on IV drips of the most aggressive antibio cocktail you could think of.

And they still weren’t getting better, in fact, they were getting worse. You’d already lost a number of patients to sepsis, blood poisoning, and the other hospitals across the planet were facing the same issues. As far as you knew, any person that had caught this mysterious strain of Wet Lung were either dead or dying and there was nothing you could do about it.

You nearly bump into Kix when he stops to open the cantina door.

“Coruscant to Doc, are you okay?” He asks, guiding you through the door with a hand on your lower back.

You shake your head, trying to clear it. “Yeah, Kix. Just a long shift, you know?”

He squeezes your shoulder before grabbing a tray and heading to the serving line. Even though the Republic had brought the war to your Planet a few months ago, you had to admit their support was needed for this pandemic. And nobody knows how to feed the masses quite like the GAR.

Kix immediately starts eating when you two sit down, he told you about one of his brothers, Fives: 'If you didn’t eat quickly around him, he’d swipe the rest of your rations.'

You just can’t bring yourself to eat, instead you just chase a few peas around your tray. Of course, Kix notices.

“Jahaal'got.” He says, using your nickname to grab your attention. “Come on. Talk. It wasn’t just a long day.”

You avoid his eyes, the words getting stuck in your throat. You’ve lost patients before, multiple in one day even, so why was today crushing you so badly?

Kix sets down his fork and reaches across the table to gently grasp your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him. “How many did you lose today?”

You take a deep breath, “Twelve, eight more deteriorating. I just… I don’t get it, Kix. What are we missing? The drugs aren’t working, they keep going septic before we can catch it, and those that haven’t progressed to sepsis are dying to the Wet Lung.”

Kix stops your rambling by taking both your hands in his. “You remember what your nickname means, right?”

You should be able to remember, but your mind has been so overworked, it doesn’t come to you. “I, uh… something about medicine?”

“Jahaal’got.” Kix repeats it. “It’s the mando term meaning 'good for health', because that’s what you are. You’re doing everything you can, and that’s all you can do.”

You nod, closing your eyes and rolling your head to try to release the tension in your shoulders.

“You’re off tonight, right?” Kix asks.

“No,” you shake your head. “I picked up the night shift, I have to be here.”

Kix scoffs at you. “Are you serious? What, you’re just going to sleep on the hospital floor forever?”

“Not forever.” You protest. “Just until this blows over.”

“This pandemic or the war?”

You meet his eyes, and a knowing look passes between you. After meeting him, you had discussed sending in an application to become a civilian medic for the GAR.

“Well, we have an hour before the night shift starts.” Kix says, standing up and taking your tray. “Why don’t we go for a walk and then try again at this ‘food’ thing before going back to work?”

Your brow furrows at his remark, “But you-”

“Will also be working the night shift, so it seems.” He cuts you off. He shifts both trays into one hand and holds his other out to help you out of your seat.

Kix leads the way, dropping the trays in the wash basin on the way out of the cantina. Outside, the sun is beginning to set, painting the sky with shades of orange, pinks and purples.

The two of you walk through the academic campus, chatting about nothing in particular. Kix asks you a few questions here and there about the buildings you all pass. Though it’s been a few years, you tell him what you remember about studying here.

“It’s a shame all the students had to be sent home.” You remark as you step into the university greenhouses.

Kix nods his agreement. “What is this place?” He asks, looking around.

“The campus greenhouses, they're shared by a few departments.” You explain. “Biology, horticulture, environmental studies, and engineering to name a few.”

“I’m surprised everything is still alive, don’t plants take some maintenance?”

“Well, the greenhouse forms a pretty self-sustaining environment. I remember the medical students coming in here a couple times.”

Kix tilts his head at you. “What would medical students study in here?”

“Well,” you shrug, “There are quite a few medicinal plants native to this planet. Though they aren’t quite as effective as modern medicine, they can still be used for daily management or as an additional treatment.”

The two of you weave through the greenhouse aisles for a few more minutes before you notice Kix has lagged behind. When you turn around to find him, you notice he’s hiding something behind his back.

Your eyes narrow. “What do you have there, Kix? It’s not a bug, is it? That was only funny the first time.”

He chuckles, “Haha, no. I promise it’s not. Here, one last thing to brighten your day.”

You freeze when you notice what he has in his hand.

Kix notices your expression at the small yellow flowers he’s holding out to you. “What, are they poisonous or something?” He asks hesitantly.

“No,” you shake your head smiling as you take them from him. “It’s just funny, those are St. John’s Worts.”

“Weird name.”

“It’s from local mythology.” You explain. “The flowers tend to bloom on the summer solstice, which is dedicated to their namesake.”

Kix looks from you to the flowers and gently picks a few more sprigs from the nearby planter, tucking them behind your ear. “They’re pretty, like something else I’m looking at.”

His words make you smile, but you playfully swat at his arm. “Oh stop it. I know I look like hell.”

“You look better than anyone else would after nearly a month of non-stop work in an infectious disease ward.” He responds.

“Thanks Kix.” You say, hoping that your sincerity projects. Before you know it, you’re throwing your arms around his neck.

Kix falters, but only for a second. You feel his arms wrap around you, strong and steady, just like him. Just like he has been for you the past few weeks. Maybe it was his clone conditioning, or maybe it was just him, but he seemed so unshakeable and he always knew what to say.

He doesn’t relax until you do, but his hands remain on your hips, his eyes darting across your face, trying to read your thoughts. One of your hands rests on his chest, the other still on his shoulder. You won’t deny how drawn you are to him. Though you hoped for the end of this mystery illness plaguing your planet, it stung that it’s end meant saying goodbye to Kix.

Kix is shifting. ‘He’s leaning in, why is he leaning in?’

You move as well, but the moment is shattered when your foreheads bump into each other.

Kix lets go of you completely and takes a step back, color spreading across his cheeks.

“I uhhh…” He tries to find the words, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh, it’s fine.” You stammer. “You’re fi- we’re fine.” A giggle slips past your lips at the awkwardness.

Kix breaks into some nervous laughter as well before readjusting some of the yellow flowers in your hair. “Tell me about them.”

You smile at him. “Well, they’re perennials, meaning they come back every year, they don’t need to be replanted. Although the flowers are yellow, they’ll stain your fingers red when you crush them. They’ve been shown to have some antidepressant properties as well as anti-inflammatory benefits, but you need to be careful when combining them with modern drugs.”

You notice Kix’s soft expression as he listens to you.

“It’s been shown that St. John’s Wort has antibio and antiviral properties as we-'' Your heart stops. “Kix.”

“What?”

“Kix, that’s it,” you repeat. “That’s why we keep losing them. We’ve been treating this Wet Lung with antibios, but those aren’t working because it’s not bacterial.”

Kix’s mouth drops open and he says the words at the same time as you. “It’s viral.”

You can see the thoughts tumbling in his head. “And because we advanced to use the system-wide drugs, the patient’s are too weak to fight the virus, triggering the sepsis.” He stammers out. “But, wait, that can’t be right. How can it be viral? There’s never been a case of viral Wet lung reported on this planet.”

Your feet move automatically as you start pacing. “‘There’s always a patient zero. Normal trade is scanned and sanitized.” You stop. “The troopers.”

Kix’s brow furrows. “No, we're vaccinated.”

“Yes, but vaccines aren’t a foolproof plan, with a mutated strain it might present as a mild cold, or not even show symptoms, especially since you all are engineered to have a more robust immune system.” You say, your brain moving a klick a minute. “Where were you all stationed before being deployed here?”

“Most of the 501st was on shore leave on Coruscant.” Kix replies, shaking his head. “The Carnivore and Execute Battalions… They were on Rhodia and transferred directly here for the occupation.”

His eyes widen and he grabs your wrist without another word.

“Kix? Kix!” You shout as he drags you through the campus back towards the hospital. “Why is it so important that you were on Rhodia?”

“Rhodia is one of the native planets for viral strains of Wet Lung.” He pants. “The Rhodians are largely immune, but some mutated strains survive. You were right, we had a couple troopers reporting colds when they transferred.”

The doors to the Infectious Disease Ward bang open and Kix finally lets go of your wrist, giving you a moment to breathe.

“Like you said, the troopers, we’re engineered to have stronger immune systems and we’re vaccinated.” He continues. “The population here…”

“We never have.” You finish his sentence. “We don’t have any kind of immunity. Combined with your theory that it’s a mutated strain and the antibios we’ve given them, it’s no wonder-”

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?”

The two of you turn and see the Medical Director storming down the nearby hallway.

Kix steps partially in front of you and stands at attention. “I’m sorry sir, but we-”

“I don’t care what you two were doing!” The Director booms. “You bursting in here is no excuse.”

You slowly step out from behind Kix. “Please, sir. We think we’ve figured out this pandemic.”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m in charge here.” The Director says, his eyes narrowing.

Instead of bowing away as usual, you stand your ground. “I am just as qualified as you, if not more. I'm the one that's been running this ward while you sit in your office. I graduated from this very campus, top of my class and I’m the second in command at the Capital Hospital. This disease we’re dealing with, it has to be viral.”

Your Medical Director looks you up and down, pausing at the yellow flowers in your hair. “There has never been a case of viral Wet Lung reported on this planet. The antibios always work. We just need to find the right combination of meds.”

“Sir, you need to listen.” You insist. “I know we’ve always treated Wet Lung with antibios, but look,” You wave your arm at the ward behind him. “Every single patient that’s come in is either still sick or has progressed to sepsis. The other hospitals are reporting the same.”

Kix puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. “She’s right, sir. Strains of viral Wet Lung are common in other systems. We had a couple battalions transfer here from one of those systems, Rhodia. It’s likely some of our troopers were carriers for a mutated variant and brought it here.”

You pick up where Kix left off. “Even though our population doesn’t have any innate immunity, a fair amount of people probably could have ridden out the virus if we hadn’t given them those antibios.” You bite your lip before continuing. “Those drugs are effective, but in a patient with no bacterial infection, all it would do is compromise their system. They can’t fight the virus, and they progress to sepsis. Only we’re not catching it before it kills them because the Wet Lung is masking the sepsis symptoms.”

You try to stop the words from spilling over your lips but in a last desperate plea for your officer to understand, it slips out.

"We’re killing them."

Kix’s hand squeezes firmly on your shoulder as you let out a choked sob. Your medical officer looks at you curiously, you’ve always been so level headed and sure footed.

The Director crosses his arms. "So you’re telling me to take them off the drugs and do nothing. You do know that’s how we treat viruses, right?"

You lock eyes with him. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. We need to give them supportive treatment; fluids, steroids, pain medication. We can try some antivirals to weaken the Wet Lung strain, but the patients will have to fight it off on their own. All we can do is give them the best chance possible.”

Your director looks you up and down before letting out a little ‘hm.’ He glances behind him to the infectious disease ward and back to you. “I will not take responsibility when this goes wrong. Looks like we’re taking your direction now, Doctor.”

Under your instruction, all of the patients in the ward are removed off the antibio cocktail. Much to your Medical Director's annoyance, the death rate begins to improve. You sent word to the other hospitals caring for pandemic patients and they saw similar results. It’s a slow process, and Kix stays by your side every step of the way. The day you discharged your first survivor, you cried. You both did, actually.

It takes a few more weeks, some patients are touch and go. There were still a few deaths, and Kix held you as you cried for them. Then came the day that you got the news. Your patient numbers had reduced so much your little makeshift hospital was going to be closed, and you were being sent back to the Capital Hospital with a new position, no less. Your remaining patients would be transferred along with you and the University was going to be reopened.

And yet, you weren’t quite happy. Sure you’d basically saved your planet’s population from facing extinction, but you couldn’t revel in it knowing that a certain someone was going to be shipped out.

“The campaign here is over.” Kix had explained. “And with the pandemic contained, there’s no reason for the medics to stay behind.”

The 501st was being sent to Ryloth. You knew there was a crisis brewing there, and you were proud that you knew some of the brave men going to help there, but it still stung. It stung the same as your eyes did as you stand on the landing platform, waiting for someone to come say goodbye.

“There you are.” He says, walking up behind you.

You sniff slightly, trying to keep tears from pricking at your eyes. “Here I am.”

You hear a bit of laughter and you notice a group of clone troopers in blue armor across the landing platform that seem very interested in the two of you.

“Don’t pay attention to them.” Kix says, moving in front of you to block them from view. “Brothers…” He mumbles.

“I get it.” You say, searching his face, what for you’re not quite sure.

Kix reaches for a pouch on his belt. “I- I have something for you.” He says, sheepishly pressing a box into your hands.

Looking down you realize it’s a jewelry box. Gently you open the lid and gasp at the sight of what lays inside. Strung on a delicate chain is a single golden pendant of a flower. The same flower that Kix had tucked into your hair all those weeks ago. The same flower that led to the salvation of your planet.

“Kix… I don’t know what to say.” You stammer.

“Don’t say anything,” he says sweetly. “Just turn around for me.”

He takes the necklace from the box and gently brushes your hair out of the way before clasping the chain around your neck. Turning back around you can only shake your head and smile at him.

“I have something for you too.” You say.

Kix looks at you a little puzzled, he hadn’t seen you holding anything.

“They’re naming the new wing of the hospital after you.” You explain. “It’ll be like you’re always here. No one will forget what you did for us, for me.”

Kix gingerly cups your cheek with one hand. “It was an honor and a privilege.”

He’s leaning in again.

This time your lips connect and the landing platform melts away. There’s nothing but him. Him and you.

Of course your heart has to ruin it as it sinks with the returning thought that he’s literally about to leave and never come back. You break the kiss, but he keeps your foreheads pressed together.

“What is it?” He breathes.

You can’t help but scoff. “You’re leaving and we’re kissing. I doubt the GAR will give you much time for visits.”

“Hey,” Kix says gently holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “It’s like you said, I’ll always be here, jahaal'got. I will admit I should’ve kissed you sooner.”

“Hey lovebird! It’s time to go!” One of his brothers shouts.

That manages to get a laugh out of the two of you.

“I think you have to go.” You mutter.

Kix lets you go and takes a step back. “There’s one more thing, but it’s waiting in your office.”

He turns to leave, but you reach out and grab his bracer. “Kix. Thank you. For everything.”

With a smile, he leans in to peck you on the cheek before turning and jogging over to the shuttle where his brothers are waiting.

A grin spreads across your face when you see one with shoulder pauldrons wrap his arm around Kix’s neck to give him a noogie, while another with a top knot of hair claps him on the back.

The sun is setting by the time you get back to your office. The door slides open with a gentle woosh. It’s a nice space, though somewhat empty as you have yet to move most of your stuff over from your old office. On your desk is a vase of small yellow flowers. You find yourself shaking your head again as you walk closer.

Kix… when will he stop absolutely melting your heart?

When you didn't think he could surprise you any more, you realize the flowers in the vase are ceramic. Tucked in between some of the delicate blooms is a notecard. You instantly recognize Kix’s swooping handwriting.

‘I think I need to make an appointment with the Doc, I seem to have been bitten by the love bug. (augh, that was awful, Jesse told me it would be good) I hope you like these, you deserve real ones, but had a local artist make them for you since I won’t be around to make sure real ones never wilt. I’ll see you soon, jahaal'got, on my next shore leave.’

Also Happy Birthday @arctrooper69! (today, May 20th)

#cloneflowerficevent #clone trooper kix #clone medic kix #star wars tcw #tcw #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #sw tcw #tcw kix #kix #501st #501st legion #kix x reader #st. john's wort

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thedilfoccult · 1 day

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The screening // cillian murphy x reader:

Summary: Your uncle Chris sets up a private first screening of Oppenheimer as a surprise after being gone for months filming. Cillian Murphy was also invited, much to your surprise. A few glasses of red wine later and a shared blanket leads to the actor getting handsy and needy for your touch.

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Fem!reader

Warnings: Age gap, smut, pure fantasy (not connected to real life Cillian), pro-longed teasing, fingering, dry humping, Blowjob, he’s a little pervy (BIG love), unsuspecting reader but all consensual (for the most part), pure smut + little to no plot / context

——————————————————————

“Uncle Chris!” You screamed with your hands reaching outwards, your legs moving as fast as they could through the white corridors to run into your uncle’s arms. It had been only a couple months since you’d last seen him but he’s just the absolute rock in your life, you wouldn’t know what to do without him.

“Hi Angel!” Your uncle knelt down onto one knee with open arms for you to run into. You did as such and soon you were being lifted off the ground in the biggest bear hug you had ever received. After spinning you around a couple of times he plopped you down and held your shoulders with a wide grin on his face.

“How are you my dear, are you excited to watch the film tonight?” He was so humble for all he had accomplished and he had never left you behind. Being your fathers brother was already exceptionally cool, nevermind having him adore you and treat you as his very own.

“I’m alright, and obviously I am! I’ve missed you so much” You pulled him into another hug and he let out a small chuckle. Looking up at him through your squinted eyes with a smile frozen on your face, you noticed his face had fallen into one of a curious nature.

“What is it?” You questioned, your brows furrowing.

“Now before I say this, I need you to promise me you won’t be upset my love” Letting go of the hug you took a step back and felt your heart thump a little harder.

“Well, it depends what is it” You crossed your arms and your eyebrows knitted tighter together.

“I also promised a certain someone that I’d show him the film before it got out to the public too. I understand you may be uncomfortable but I can assure you he’s a lovely man and won’t be any trouble for our family time” Uncle Nolan’s hands came up in defence, he knew how important this was for you to spend some alone time with your Uncle as you hadn’t seen him in so long.

“Who?” A million names flashed through your mind wondering who the mystery man could be. Your arms dropped to your side as you put your defence down.

“Right… well, it’s Cillian. Cillian Murphy. I just… I figured it would be fun and even exciting for you to see it with the man himself. I promised him and I could only get one copy. So why not just have a movie night together? Hm, what’d you say?” His face had fallen to one of a sympathetic and cautious look towards you. Of course, this wasn’t a big deal. But having the Cillian Murphy round for dinner and a movie was a massive deal. This wasn’t just an average man who knew your uncle.

Your heart stopped in place and you could’ve sworn your cheeks heated up. Your mind raced back to the first and only time you’d met the actor so far. Oppenheimer was on it’s first day of being filmed and your uncle shockingly invited you down for a couple of hours before the shooting began. You remember meeting all the incredible actors and having them shake your hand, treating you as royalty as you were the same flesh and blood as Nolan himself. All of them were sweet, treated you a little childish but sweet nonetheless. Small talk was being made when Cillian came over himself to talk to your uncle. As soon as his eyes met you, he continued his conversation as you continued yours but he had his attention glued onto you. His eyes trailed up and down your body as he licked his lips in between words and practically eye-fucked you right there in front of the whole crew. Now, you may be 28 years younger than the man but my god, did this cause a primal reaction within you. Your uncle noticed the staring between the pair of you and introduced you to each other, suspecting it was nothing more than curiosity of who the other was. His eyes glimmered as he traced your face and firmly gripped your much softer hand within his. While still gripping yours, he introduced himself as you did too. As soon as it had started, the moment stopped and your hand was empty of his. Remembering the scent of him, using that same hand to curl within you to hit your sweet spot and wishing it was him would be your fate for the months to come. But now, the man would be coming to your uncles house for the night, with you there. A sense of dread, nerves and excitement had filled you.

“Oh… um. Yeah, that’s fine” You said breathlessly.

Nolan had seemingly breathed a large sigh of relief. “Oh good. I’ll get dinner prepared.”

Your uncle smiled and walked over before quickly rubbing your arm and planting a kiss on your cheek, swiftly leaving the room and turned a corner to not be seen for the next few hours. Tonight would be one hell of an interesting one.

————————————

Sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging and one hand on the phone scrolling thorough one app or the other, your social media spree was violently stopped when the doorbell had gone off.

“Ah, here he is!” Uncle Nolan moved swiftly to the door and out of sight. The only thing you could hear was the door unlocking and the familiar thick Irish accent you had been craving to hear groan for the past couple of months.

“Cillian! I’m thrilled you could make it” Your uncle’s enthusiasm towards the man was unmistakable.

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world” Cillian had chuckled.

The two voices started to get louder and louder as they made their way down the hall and came to a sudden stop once they had entered the kitchen. You slowly look up off your phone and make eye contact with the Irishman and saw a dark look painted on his face.

“Hi Mr. Murphy” you practically whispered. You couldn’t even fake a smile your stomach was in such a tight knot.

“Hi…” His voice trailed up as he smirked a guilty grin to your uncle.

“Oh come on Cillian, it’s only been a couple of months” He said in shock.

“Y/N” you giggled.

“Ah, right. Sorry. Days are too long it’s felt like years” He gave you a sincere smile. “Hello Y/N”. You were a tad disappointed he’d forgotten your name but the way it rolled off his lips a few moments after made up for the whole mishap. An awkward silence filled the room and the air got thick with tension.

“Right! Dinners ready, so please, if you’d like to sit down”. Your uncle broke the tension.

———

During dinner you could feel Cillian’s eyes burning into your forehead, not use to the attention and unsure of what to do to avoid the awkwardness you didn’t dare look up to the man opposite you.

Suddenly, the metal knife had clacked onto the floor.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Cillian ducked beneath the table to retrieve his knife. After about 6 seconds of him underneath you crossed your legs in insecurity to the fact you wore a skirt, now exceptionally short as you sat down.

“You alright there?” Uncle Chris asked.

“Yep” Cillian said breathlessly. “Got it”. His face slightly red coming out from the table.

“Darling, would you be so kind to fetch our guest another knife please” Your uncle said to you pointing the fork full of food in your direction.

“Sure” you said and stood up, patting down your skirt as you made your way to the kitchen.

As you reached the cabinet you huffed as you grabbed a knife and slowly closed it as you turned around. As you turned, you squealed as Cillian was standing a near few feet away from you.

“God- you made me jump” you said holding one hand to your chest.

“Sorry” He chuckled and crossed his arms as he lent on the counter.

“Can I help with something?” You said in an attempt to break the thick tension your eye contact was creating.

“Your uncle” He pronounced each word slowly and deliberately “asked me to fetch a bottle red wine for us.”

“Ah, well it’ll be here” You turned around and tip toed as you reached upward to pick up the wine off the shelf above. After 10 seconds of struggling to reach it, hoping the man would help you, you suddenly felt a cold breeze under your skirt and heard Cillian groan. Finally reaching the bottle you turned around and found him staring at your legs.

“You know… you should really buy longer skirts.” He said getting up off the counter and closing the distance between you. “I could see the black lace you’re wearing when I went under the table. It’s incredibly inappropriate to be wearing close to nothing when you’ve got guests over” He reached his hand out and grabbed the red wine between you, placing his hand over yours on the bottle and pausing to stare down into your eyes.

You gulped at the contact and how he said the words in such a threatening tone.

“Um… sorry Mr.Murphy” You whispered.

He chuckled at your easy compliance. “Darling please, call me Cillian” He snatched the wine and made his way back out the kitchen. You stood there in shock, frozen, watching as he left to the dining table and feeling a pulse in your panties at the nickname he just called you.

—————

Finally, dinner was over and the small talk was done. The glances you and Cillian kept snatching at each other was starting to build a warmth in your stomach and cause a heat on your cheeks. You walked around the table picking up each plate and bringing it to the kitchen sink before placing the dishes down and starting the water. A couple minutes later, a large set of hands found themselves snaked around your waist, a hot breath fanning on your neck and causing to the stop moving in shock.

“Such a good girl, cleaning the dishes” You heard Cillian groan into your ear. His breath smelled like wine and you could tell he was a little tipsy from the slight slur of his words. His chest was breathing heavily and you felt him press himself harder against your back.

“Why’d you stop? The faster you get these dishes done the faster we can start the movie”. His words sent shivers down your spine, you hesitantly started scrubbing again and the force of you moving caused him to groan under his breath. He pressed himself further against you and you tried your best to keep scrubbing and ignoring the heat building between your thighs. Just then, his hips twitched and you could feel a hard prod in your back, his hands gripping further into your side. His boner was painfully obvious now, you could practically feel his entire length on your back and he felt so big, it caused you to squirm as you continued your chore.

“Mhm, you feel that?” His lips were now pressed against your neck, his breathing tickling your skin. “How old are you baby?” His hips pushed hard enough for your hips to bang into the counter, causing you to welp.

“I um- I’m 20” You said slightly turning your face to look into his eyes.

“Such a young thing” His hand tucked the hair behind your ear. “I told you this skirt was too short. M’ thinking about the way you’d look bent over this counter” Naturally, he started slightly grinding against you now, bending his knees down to get a feel for your ass on his erection. “You always look this sexy?” He said, moving his head backwards while still keeping his hands on your hips to see how he looked rubbing against you. “You always dress so slutty for men twice your age?” You lowered your chest a little to give him more room, snapping your neck back to look at him as seductively as you could.

“No, sir” You said placing the last dish down, reaching your hand up to turn off the tap. He caught sight of this and brought his chest up to your back, pressing his hard on even harsher into your rear end. You whimpered at the harshness of his movement and he groaned again at the fast friction.

“No, no. We wouldn’t want Uncle Chris hearing now would we?” You removed your hand off the tap and stayed still as he had you pressed over the counter. He lent back again and glued his eyes onto your ass, swirling his hips on your skirt and having his mouth fall open agape, eyebrows furrowed, as he grind on your ass. Suddenly, he pulled your hips back which caused you to be bent over even more. He harshly placed his boner onto the back of your folds as you felt his cock press into your mound.

“I bet this pussy would feel so good around my cock” He thought out loud, causing you to moan at the sudden friction on your clit. His pace was still agonisingly slow, yet still being able to flood your underwear with desire.

“Cillian! Y/N! You guys ready? I’m about to start the screening!” Your uncles voice didn’t make Cillian stop moving. In fact, he still continued to grind on you and even grabbed your ass and swung his head back.

“Yes, Chris! I’m coming” Cillian chuckled with his eyes squeezed shut, forcing one more hump into you before pulling back and grabbing his clothed erection. Hearing your uncles voice scared you, threw you back into the reality of the situation you were in. You swung yourself around and pressed your back against the counter as you pulled your skirt down.

“Don’t look so embarrassed sweetheart, I’m sure your uncle is used to all the Hollywood whores” He tucked his boner up into his waistband and covered his shirt over the top, chuckling as he turned and walked out the kitchen. Again, there you stood in the kitchen frozen as to what just happened.

———

In the living room, a second bottle of wine was opened and had 3 glasses on the coffee table waiting to be drunk from. Neither your uncle or Cillian had sat down yet, as they stood next to each other figuring out the TV screen. Your uncle’s voice was slurring and his ability to stand straight was weakening. Finally, he plopped himself down on one of the sofas as you sat on the one next to it, grabbing the fur blanket and placing it over you. As you sat closer to the end than the middle, Cillian placed himself in the small opening next to you on your right and the end of the sofa, your uncle too drunk to notice Cillian’s seating choice he pressed play and the film began.

“M’ a bit cold love, you mind sharing that?” Cillian said grabbing the blanket and sliding it over himself. Now with his crotch and hands covered, you sat anxiously next to him as the film began. This was of course too close for comfort considering what just happened in the kitchen and you felt almost intimidated by his presence, still feeling the warmth of his body next to you and having that scent you’ve been craving go up your nose you figured the situation could be a lot worse.

15 minutes into the film, you felt a strong warm grip snake around your thigh, you jumping up and squealing in surprise. Before Cillian could say anything, your uncle slowly turned around and looked at you.

“Whats that M’love? You okay?” He gave you a sincere smile.

“Uh, yes Uncle Chris. I’m okay” You tried to sincerely smile back. “Mhm, good” He turned his focus back onto the screen.

“Good girl” Cillian whispered in your direction, now having his body slightly turned to face you with his right hand on your thigh. Considering how loud the speakers were in the at home cinema, it didn’t surprise you that your uncle didn’t hear his comment.

His hand would occasionally grip your thigh at different strengths for the next few minutes, slowly moving more and more up in anticipation and desperation. Each time he would squeeze, you would slightly whimper at the contact and hear him groan at your reaction to his touch.

“Mmm, so soft. You like me touching your thigh?” He purred into your ear. You shot him a look with wide eyes at his louder comment and gulped a response. All you could do was shake your head yes.

“Lemme feel more” he grunted as he quickly shifted his hands up to your groin, his index finger resting above your folds. Of course, because the skirt was so short it had ridden up by now.

“So dirty, wearing practically nothing for me.” Cillian had fully shifted now and was facing you, pressing his finger harder onto your clit and slowly started to rub delicate circles.

“Fuck, already so wet” Your hips twitched up in response as you laid further back into the sofa, giving him more access, wanting him to touch more. His pace stayed steady under the blanket with a delicate touch as he twirled circles with the tip of his finger, watching your every reaction to his movements. Your brows furrowed and your breathing was inconsistent, persuading him to start to pick up his pace to watch you come undone.

“Are you already gonna cum? Here? In front of your uncle?” Shame had filled you from his actions and how well you were responding to them, feeling embarrassed from your arousal and eagerness to cum on his fingers right there.

“You two enjoying the film?” Your uncle said, not bothering to turn back as his eyes were slowly closing. Cillian continuing to rub on your soft spot as your uncle spoke, never diverting his attention off of you.

“I-uhm-yes” You choked on your words. The heat in between your thighs was growing unbearable, wanting to undo right then and there. It had been so long since you had any sexual encounter, so you were extra sensitive to this mans experienced touch.

“Mhm” Is all Cillian could say, his eyes still glued on you, fastening his pace.

He pulled his fingers back and you could feel your stomach drop, squirming on the sofa wanting to be touched again. Just then, he swiftly shifted your panties to the side as you laid further back.

“Spread your knees for me love” He grunted under his breath. Of course, you did as you were told.

His middle finger circled outside your opening, slightly dipping in to pick up some of your arousal before feeling the full length of your folds. He did this a few times before circling once or twice on your clit. As you sat in anticipation, twitching at each slight touch he was giving you, he would differentiate the pressure he was applying onto your sensitive parts causing you to whimper and grow frustrated. Your eyes started to tear at the lack of and pressure of contact you were receiving. If your uncle were to look over now it’d be beyond obvious what was happening but luckily, he was drifting off to sleep due to his consumption of the wine. You glanced at Cillian as his eyes were stuck on you, his finger slowly breaching your entrance and your eyebrows furrowing in reaction. He slowly pushed his finger all the way to his knuckle and in response your head fell back and hips twitched up.

“Did you really think I forgot that gorgeous name of yours?” He spoke as he pulled his finger out again.

“I haven’t been able to forget your face since I saw you” He grunted as he shoved his finger back into you, causing a slight whimper on your part. You held his hand that was quickening up it’s pace as it fucked you, curling his fingers to prod your sweet spot.

“So tight, honey. Have you never been touched like this before?” He was breathlessly whispering as his finger fucked at a turbo speed into you and curling his knuckle to make you squirm and moan under your breath. You couldn’t speak from the friction, if you did you’d wake your uncle up from how loud you’d scream. He pulled out and gently pushed in another finger, causing your head to turn away and cover your mouth from making any sounds.

“I wanna hear you baby, moan for me” He said, finding that pace again that had you building up a knot in your stomach. “C’mon, look at me. I’ve been wanting to hear that sweet voice of yours for months” He taunted you as his fingers stopped moving and focused on aggressively curling them into you. All you could do was look at him for a split second before your eyes rolled back and you let out a small squeak, scared to even breath from how loud you wanted to scream around him.

“Mhm, that’s it” Your walls started to clench around him as you felt yourself building up. “You look so sexy like this” he praised.

“Cill-oh fuck- I’m cumming” You mustered. You said this possibly too loud while shifting aggressively in your seat and you couldn’t keep still, Cillian strong enough to keep you grounded with his fingers inside you and his face following your movements.

“Such a good girl. Cum for me” He praised you. Removing the blanket to see the damage he was doing, but still blocking your parts from your uncles view, he groaned at the sight of his fingers attacking your pussy, watching as you squirted slightly around his knuckles. Grunting at the sight beneath him, he fastened his pace and even moaned himself at the pleasure he was giving you. One of your hands was fisted into the pillow next to you and the other was around your mouth, muffling your sounds. The room filled with wet noises, which you hadn’t noticed in the state of your orgasm. Cillian grunted at himself as he felt you squeeze around him and squirt onto the sofa and blanket, not slowing down his pace as he shifted closer to you.

“Oh fuck- yes- just like that” Cillian whispered as he peered his head down to watch your pussy as you came.

Your head flung back and your eyes squeezed, shaking violently as the rush came over you. You felt a wave of cool fall from your head to your stomach as you finished right there and then, in front of your sleeping uncle, onto Cillian’s hand. He continued pumping in and out of you till you rode out your high, slowing down to give you time to recover. He pulled his fingers out and laid back to look at you with his fingers in the air.

“Suck” he commanded. You shifted carefully, still in a state of euphoria, and grabbed his hands and placed the two fingers in your mouth. You sucked them as seductively as you could as your tongue twirled around them. You’d never tasted yourself before, it was an odd taste as you weren’t use to it but still sucked his fingers clean of any of your liquid. As you pulled his fingers out of your mouth, you glanced down and saw a tent in his pants pointing directly at you. He chuckled as he looked down at his erection through his pants and grabbed it.

“Would you like to see it?” He asked, watching you carefully as he began to palm himself through his pants. All you could do was nod your head yes.

“Say it- I need to hear you say it” He was already breathless as he started picking up the pace that he was palming himself at.

“I want to see it” You said quietly. He nodded at you in encouragement.

“I want to see your cock” the words felt filthy but completely right.

Cillian moaned deeply as his head swung back, still grabbing at himself through his pants. Without looking back up, he grabbed your much smaller hand and placed it onto his boner and pressed your hand down in a signal to start petting him too. You watched in awe as your hand wrapped around his size, slowing moving your hand up and down as you watched his reaction to your touch.

“Take it out-I-I need to feel you” He said, eyes still shut as he struggled to get his words out through his breaths.

You did as you were told and unzipped his pants, he raised his hips to help you push his pants to his thighs and he raised his jumper higher onto his stomach, giving you a view of his cock through his underwear. After groping his size through the thin material a few times, his head swung down to look at your actions as his eyebrows were knitted together and his mouth open ajar. He gave a loud huff and groaned back at his impatience and you saw his adams apples bob as he swallowed.

“You’re so big Mr.Murphy” You whispered.

“Fuck- don’t call me that” He said in a grunt.

“Why? Does it turn you on?” You felt his cock twitch in your hand at your comment. He gave a fake cry and shifted his hips up in anticipation. “Y/N, please. Touch my cock” His eyes teary as they looked at you. Before continuing, you gazed back at your asleep uncle, making sure he was still out cold before continuing.

You pulled his cock out of his underwear and it sprung out onto his stomach. Lifting his jumper even higher to make sure it didn’t touch his tip, he watched as you grabbed him again in your hand and slowing started to pump at his tip. His head was already red and leaking precum down the sides of his shaft and twitched at any small friction you gave him. He groaned slightly at your touch and you began to pump faster, spreading the bead of white across his top with your thumb, causing his hips to twitch and he moaned at the touch.

“Does it feel good Mr.Murphy?” You asked innocently.

“Fuck-y/n” he said breathlessly through his teeth as he gripped your arm. “Use your mouth”

You stopped moving your wrist and looked at him through your swollen eyes, watching him lay next to you in vulnerability and desperate for more.

“Ask me properly” You grinned, his eyes now full of lust.

He reached up and grabbed your throat and gripped it till his knuckles turned white “I said, use your mouth” Although his grip was tight around your neck, you still smiled in pleasure and even felt yourself pulse at the sensation. He let go and you laid on your stomach next to him, still holding his length in your hand. Slowly, your mouth reached over and sucked his tip slightly, twirling your tongue around his head as you tasted the slightly salty substance spread on your palette. He groaned at the sensation and his head fell back. His hand left the side of the sofa and found it’s way intertwined through your hair, gripping tightly at your scalp as you began to take him in further down your throat.

“Oh fuck- just like that” he breathlessly said, snapping his head up to watch as you bopped your head around him. You looked at him through your damp lashes as you struggled to reach his base, beginning to gag as your nose tickled on his public hair. His expressions were encouraging you to go further as his eyes squeezed and he groaned through the small opening of his mouth, twitching his hips up and forcibly pulling your head further into him. Using your hand to wrap around the part you couldn’t fit into your mouth, his eyes fell open and looked to down at you in a face of exhaustion and desperation, his eyes seemingly heavy and dazed.

“Such a good girl, taking me so well” He praised. You could only muffle out sounds as his shaft filled your throat.

You pulled him out and moved your tongue onto his balls, twirling and sucking them while stroking his cock with your hand. The sudden movement caused him to twitch in your hand as his legs started to tremble.

“Oh my god-yes” He moaned out, gripping onto your hair tighter as his head sunk further down into the couch and his back started to arch.

Once you’d given his balls the attention they deserved, you moved your mouth back onto his length and starting bobbing your head at a fast pace, hollowing out your mouth and filling the room with suction noise.

“Fuck-keep going, I’m about to cum” He edged you on. Suddenly the point of being quiet was out the window, the walls had echoed his violent moans as they bounced throughout the house and he held your throat in place as the warm liquid shot down your throat. His head had pulled back and his hips had lifted off the couch, his grip was rough in your hair and his groans were deafening. He snapped his neck up and watched as the black mascara smudged down your crying eyes and drool had formed at the sides of your mouth, feeling the heat of him coat the walls in your throat.

After the moans had subsided and his grip lessened on your hair, you began to slowly bob your head around him again, watching as he winced in sensitivity from his orgasm. He pulled your head up and chuckled at the mess you had become. Suddenly, he pushed your head towards his and placed a wet, open mouth kiss onto yours, shoving his tongue in and twirling it against yours.

You sat back and for the first time in 40 minutes actually paid attention to the screen. He laid there with the softening cock out as he panted and caught his breath, occasionally looking over at you and petting your hair.

“I should come round more often” he said sincerely as he twirled your hair in between his fingers.

“I’d like that” You blushed.

“Next time I’ll have you cumming around my cock instead” for the words he was speaking, he did look incredibly sweet doing so.

A cough from your uncle had disrupted the moment, Cillian quickly pulling his pants up and getting under the blanket as he did before. Your uncle rubbed his eyes and sat up, turning towards the pair of you.

“Sorry, I dozed off there- hope I didn’t miss much” He said groggily.

“Nope, not too much. The film is fantastic” Cillian said earnestly. God, he was such a good actor.

“You two haven’t drank your wine! Come on, finish up” Your uncle laughed.

The pair of you lent forward and picked up your glasses, the three of you cheering to the movie night in.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian smut #jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy drabble #smut #oppenhiemer #robert oppenheimer #oppenheimer #Oppenheimer smut #thomas shelby #thomas Shelby smut #peaky blinders

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emphistic · 2 hours

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Revelation

A/N: i must finish this series before it finishes me. this is also only my second time writing on laptop instead of my phone.

<- Series m.list

Sukuna wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this.

It came natural to him — talking to you, I mean.

“Hello?” you asked, putting him on speaker. You didn’t bother moving your phone to your ear, your roommate slept over at her boyfriend’s last night anyway. So you had the apartment to yourself.

A deep, raspy voice answered on the other line with a quick, “Hey,” and you assumed he had probably only woken up a few minutes before he called you.

“Do you . . . need something?” You had to admit, this was quite odd. It was rare for Sukuna to call you so early in the morning, after all, your tutoring sessions were usually in the evening or right after Sukuna got off of basketball practice, which was never before 4pm.

“I’m supposed to need something now? What if I just wanted to talk to you?”

“. . .” You almost dropped your phone on the tiles of the kitchen floor; your silence told Sukuna everything he needed to know.

“What, don’t tell me I can’t talk to my favorite tutor?” His voice held a mischievous tone to it, and the expression painted on his face was no different.

“I’m your only tutor, dickhead.”

Sukuna feigned a sigh, and you almost pitied him for a second. “I just, y’know, miss hearing the voice of the prettiest girl on campus—”

“Sukuna, don’t—don’t do that. Especially not to me.” Chance no. 1 — Those words and the tone in which you uttered them almost made Sukuna think back on the whole bet. If only he had. If only he had listened.

“Do what?”

“You know what.”

“Why not?”

“For fuck’s sake, Sukuna, don’t play coy. It is eight in the morning—”

“I’m serious, though. I just want to talk to you, it’s, ah, lonely over here.” Sukuna twirled a pen he picked up from his nightstand between his fingers.

Lonely? Lonely? Sukuna was lonely? Yeah, he had to be playing with you or something. “Where’s that girl you posted on your story last night then, hm? Was she not up to your liking, Ryomen?”

“Don’t even start.”

You laughed. Sukuna smiled; in all honesty, he really did miss your voice. He had neither seen nor heard from you in days. Coach had been kicking him in the ass lately, telling him to do this and do that, and the injury on his shoulder was really starting to take a toll on his body. He wasn’t allowed to work out, much less, even play ball.

“Are you really serious though? Like, deadass?”

Sukuna paused, before answering moments later. “Why the hell would I not be? Yuuji’s out of town with some of his friends, so I have no one to bother, and no games for a while, either. This is the first time I’ve had — what did you call it? — a lazy morning.”

You couldn’t stifle your giggle. “Is that all you care about? No Yuuji and no basketball?”

“. . . I also have no food in the fridge . . . so that’s that, I guess.”

“Oh, my God! You being miserable is not supposed to be this funny. I can’t.” Sukuna could still hear your laughter loud and clear from the other line even after you set your phone down to clutch your stomach in hysteria.

“How rude of you, Madame President.”

When you realized how casually you were speaking to Sukuna — out of all people, you abruptly regained your composure, and cleared your throat. Yeah, sometimes either you or Sukuna would crack a joke or two during a tutoring session, but you two rarely held a civil conversation without it breaking out into a petty fight or argument about something trivial. So this was certainly new. And, you were also fairly surprised with how natural it felt, as if this was totally normal, and you totally weren’t speaking to the biggest nuisance and bane of your existence.

However, this also wasn’t the first nor last phone call you two would ever have. And usually, speaking while separated also helped keep the peace between you both.

“Are you stable now?” Sukuna teasingly questioned.

Your voice cracked, “Mhm.”

“Good.” Then, he hung up. That was it. That was it. Chance no. 2 — Sukuna should’ve just left it at that. He should’ve never called you another morning, or another evening. But no, he was determined to prove Naoya Zen’in wrong. He could do this. But. . . He shouldn’t do this. And that made all the difference.

Maybe it was a bad idea to immediately start his car and drive to your complex. Maybe it was a bad idea to knock three times, sparing only a glance at the number on your door: 116. Maybe it was a bad idea to enter your apartment. Maybe it was a bad idea. Then again, you were the one who let him in — in the first place. It was a bad idea.

“You said you were hungry, right? I’m making breakfast right now. Wan’ some?”

He should’ve shook his head no, and said, “My fridge is empty. But I’m not hungry,” but he didn’t. Sukuna stayed over for three hours. You two spent the morning sharing a stack of pancakes, and spoke in hushed tones — not for any specific reason — over cups of coffee.

But that wasn’t all. Sukuna began calling you almost every morning after that day. At first, it was an inconvenience, as most of your meetings were in the early hours, but you two came to a compromise and only spoke on the phone for as long as it took you to change your clothes and get ready to leave. However, unbeknownst to you, Sukuna also took the time out of his day. Though it wasn’t much, Sukuna skipped out on his morning jogs to hear your voice. It didn’t matter, anyway, because Coach wasn’t going to let him run if he had a say in this. But he didn’t.

The bet stayed in the back of his mind. Sukuna rarely thought about it. At times, most times, really, it didn’t feel like a bet or a dare or a joke, to Sukuna. It felt real. It felt like he was actually talking to and hanging out with a real person. He was talking to and hanging out with you. And he was enjoying it.

But when Naoya called, and asked for them to meet up after school, Sukuna automatically knew what that little mutt wanted. They agreed on a small diner, close to campus, and not too far from their gymnasium. It was rough, downtrodden, and looked too old to still be running. Nevertheless, no one was supposed to see them here anyway, so it worked.

“Have you two hung out yet?”

The memory of having breakfast at your place was not a distant memory, so Sukuna didn’t mention it. “Not out of school.”

“I assume progress has been slow, then?”

“We’ve started talking more than usual.” Sukuna silently reminisced about all the nights you spent on call together, when either of you couldn’t fall asleep, and about all the mornings you spent eating breakfast together, when Sukuna’s fridge was, like always, empty. But he didn’t mention any of those things.

“You seem to be enjoying this, y’know. I saw the way you dropped her off at her Student Council meeting, don’t think I didn’t.”

Sukuna frowned, but the blond continued.

“You had a smile on your face.”

That, he did.

“If you don’t hurry up and get her to go out with you, I’m calling off the bet. Money’s gone. No prize, nothing. Make up your mind. Go through with this, or, like the pussy you are, forfeit,” Naoya spat out; his tone was far from benevolent, did Sukuna forget about how this all started in the first place? Chance no. 3 — Sukuna should’ve ended the deal right then and there. But he didn’t; if Naoya thought Sukuna was going to back out of this unsuccessful, he thought wrong.

“You seem to have forgotten who was the pussy in the first place, dumbass. I’ll forfeit when I die.”

“We’ll see about that, Ryomen. We’ll see.”

It was later than usual when Sukuna called you that night, and exhaustion was evident in his voice.

“You’re telling me, that, you’ve started hanging out with SUKUNA!?”

“Nobara, shh! At this point, the whole building’s going to know.”

“They should know! This is revolutionary! My friend’s getting laid!”

You shot her a pointed expression.

“Alright, alright, let me just tone it down a bit, my bad, because I’m totally not shocked that my best friend is now talking civilly with the man of her NIGHTMARES!” Her pitch gradually got louder and higher as she continued with her sentence. You curled up into a ball on the floor of your shared living room as the brunette paraded around the apartment waving her arms about and screaming in intervals of only two seconds.

“And, and, not only that, he’s also asking you OUT?!”

“Nobara, oh, my God.”

“‘Oh, my God’ is right. This is — I don’t even know what to say — is this good? Is this great? Are we excited? Are we friendzoning him? What’s—what’s the situation here, girl? Fill me in a little more.”

“Oh, yeah, about that. . . I’m not really into baseball, but I was talking to him the other day about it—”

“Why are you only telling me just now?”

“Anyways, I was telling him about this player who I thought was really cute. Y’know, the guy I showed you a picture of—with the really spunky hair, yeah, that guy, and umm, I guess he took that as me saying I’m into baseball. But I’m not. I have no clue what anything regarding that sport even is, I just—ugh, I need help. He says he has really good seats,” you pinched the space between your brows in exasperation.

“What I’m getting at here is that you don’t want to say ‘no’ because he already paid for the tickets?”

You nodded.

“But you don’t want to say ‘yes’, right?”

When you didn’t respond, Nobara audibly sighed as loud as one could, and slapped her palm on her forehead. “I thought you were better than this. Sukuna? Really? You want to go out with that punkass? The one who — you told me — annoyed the shit out of you back in high school? Girl, something has to be possessing you right now, what the fuck.”

“Okay, okay, deep breaths. Let’s backtrack a little,” Nobara seemed to be the only one not following her own instruction.” So, he’s asking you out on a date, with him, and not another better guy who would be better deserving of you. Yes? Ugh, damnit. Okay, anyway, and you plan on saying ‘yes’.”

“I might’ve already said ‘yes’,” you winced as Nobara looked like she was about to faint.

“Oh, dear Jesus. Do I not exist to you anymore? Why are you only giving me the scoop, like, centuries later? Are we not friends, roommates, anything? . . . Okay, okay, deep breaths, Nobara, deep breaths. . .” She shut her eyes and began to breathe in deeply, over and over again.

All the while, you tried to contain your own mind. If you really thought hard and long about it, it would seem a little strange that you were going on a date with Ryomen Sukuna. Scratch that, really strange, actually. I mean, how much could a person possibly change over the course of — what, a year? — to go from teasing and bullying you relentlessly, absolutely determined to make your life a living hell, to asking you out on a date. A date? Isn’t that what couples do? Isn’t that what people who like or love each other do? But, you weren’t supposed to like nor love Sukuna. You were supposed to hate his guts, or, at the most, tolerate him. But no more, right?

That’s what Nobara Kugisaki was trying to figure out, as well. But her specific thinking was on a level below yours. As your best friend, roommate, and all the things you could possibly think of, she knew you. She knew your favorite type of sandwich, your favorite music genres and songs, your favorite hairbrush to use, your favorite pair of shoes. She knew you well. But, after some previous events, she now only knew you well enough. She also used to know your type. . . And, Sukuna? Wasn't it, until now, apparently.

“So what’s the game plan?” The sound of her genuinely curious voice brought an abrupt end to your train of thought.

“Oh, um, I don’t know? Just go to the game with him, I guess. That’s all there is to it, right? It’s just a simple date, a simple outing, an evening of fun. Yeah! Let’s think of it that way.” While you tried to act normal about the whole arrangement, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of misgiving about the whole thing. You were actually starting to like Sukuna more than you let on, he made you feel giddy inside, like a little middle school girl talking to her crush, he made you laugh and smile, but, in the end, you weren’t sure if he changed enough as a person to not go back to his old ways.

“That’s all there is to it?” Nobara repeated, not completely understanding your words.

Maybe you were overthinking all of this. After all, Sukuna never referred to this as a date in the first place, it was you, instead, who thought of it as one. I mean, who wouldn’t? Sukuna played it off as, “Me and Yuuji were originally going to go together, but we bought these tickets before he went out of town. And I don’t like baseball that much, either, I’m more of a basketball typa guy — as you know, so there’s no way I’m going alone. And there’s also no way I’m letting sixty bucks go to waste.”

You laughed with him, and said, “So I’m the replacement?”

“Whatever you want to be.”

To be completely honest, you didn’t give it much thought when you quickly replied only moments later, “Sure, I’d like that.”

“What the fuck?! He was clearly safe!” Sukuna yelled, standing up from his seat as the rest of the crowd held similar reactions to what was called.

You crossed your legs, remaining seated, and placed a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles. “I thought you weren’t into baseball?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m stupid!” Sukuna extended an arm out in the direction of the umpire, and mumbled a string of curses.

“Was it really that big of a deal? Mind you, you’re the brainy one in this area, not me, for once. You’ve gotta start giving me some pointers.” You cocked your head to the side, and used your hand to escape the harsh rays of the sun.

“Oh really, that so?”

“Mhm.”

“Was my lecture lasting the whole car ride here not enough for you?”

You let out a laugh, “You already know the answer to that.”

“Let me guess, you didn’t listen to a thing I said?”

“Bingo.”

“Sukuna, what are we doing?”

“Hm? What do you mean by that?”

The two of you spoke quietly, whilst sharing a cool milkshake after you unanimously decided it was hot as fuck, and you both were sweating like absolute pigs.

“Y’know. . . What are we doing? What are we doing at a baseball game together? What are we doing spending most nights and mornings on call together? What are we doing on a date together? What are we doing—together?” It was hard enough for you to keep eye contact with someone, you always felt uncomfortable by it, but Sukuna made it nearly impossible. You couldn’t meet his dark eyes for long enough until you had to avert your gaze elsewhere. But sharing a milkshake together? There really was no escape for you.

When the stadium grew boisterous and louder than ever out of the blue, you thought everyone was listening in to your conversation. Then, the logical side of your brain shut that idea down. But, when you and Sukuna turned your heads simultaneously to face the Jumbotron at the same time, you realized.

Inside of a heart-shaped frame decorated in pink and red hearts on the live-streamed video up above was none other than your and the pink haired-man beside you’s faces on the screen. And below your faces, written in bold, large, and white letters were: KISS CAM.

This was it. This was how you would die.

“I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing,” Sukuna turned to look at you with a calmer-than-he-should-be face. “Hell, I don’t even know what I’m doing. But . . . if you’ll let me. . .” His voice trailed off as his eyes languidly moved down your face, until his gaze rested on your lips.

Chants of “Kiss, kiss, kiss” filled the stadium, and grew louder and louder and louder, despite your evidently growing embarrassment.

You don’t know who leaned in first, and to this day, you still don’t know.

Sukuna’s arm — which previously hung around the back of your seat, moved to rest on the small of your back. His other hand gingerly cupped your cheek, and you subconsciously leaned into his hand, relaxing at the feel of his seemingly soothing touch.

A smirk grew on Sukuna’s face, and you waited for an obscene, vulgar joke to come out, but it never did. As your faces got nearer, your noses almost touching as a result, time seemed to come to a halt. You couldn’t even hear the restless crowd anymore. It was just you, and Sukuna. Sukuna and you. You and Sukuna. Come to think of it, you liked the sound of that, to be honest.

While Sukuna came closer, you couldn’t help but notice how handsome he really was. I know, it sounds weird to say, but it was true. In high school, he had his fair share of girlfriends, but you never really paid much thought to it. But now, you know why. It was undeniable. Sukuna really was attractive. Even if you push aside him being built like a Greek god, there were still other aspects to his beauty. His seemingly hypnotic eyes, his defined cheekbones, his tattooed skin, and that sharp jawline of his. It was all so, so beautiful.

You closed your eyes, afraid of what would happen next. But really, there was nothing to be afraid of as his lips met yours in a tender, yet fervent kiss.

This was . . . new. You didn’t expect a kiss from the Ryomen Sukuna to feel this way — not that you ever thought about that, no way. Was he always this gentle? Fuck, why was his hair so soft? While your focus was entirely on the man in front of you, your hands were quite distracted and moved to his nape to play with the little ends of hair there from his undercut.

Earlier, the cries of the stadium were softened and shut out because of . . . something you didn’t know about. (And the author doesn’t know, either.) But now, sounds of the stadium were completely drowned out, for you could only hear the hammering of your own heartbeat in your own chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your mind was wiped completely blank, and you felt lightheaded, beyond dazed, even, as Sukuna caressed your cheek whilst he deepened the kiss ever so slightly. His lips began to move more ravaging-ly, like he was greedy for more. His tongue lightly grazed against your bottom lip, before he gave you lick. Taking the opportunity — as you parted your lips in a gasp, Sukuna added a little bit of tongue into the kiss as well.

The crowd grew wild, erupting into cheers as the sight on the screen grew closer and closer to a mere porno. Some parents were even forced to cover the stares of their curious and confused children

You swore — for a split second, that you could taste the bitterness of the chocolate syrup from the milkshake you two had shared earlier, which made the kiss feel impossibly more sweeter, and even pleasant, if you will. You felt your face heat up, and your cheeks redden. You just knew he was going to tease you about this later, but did it matter? Not really, no.

The kiss turned sloppy, as Sukuna grew insatiable like the jerk he was, and people in charge of the KISS CAM quickly moved to a different couple, in hopes of keeping things a little more on the PG side.

You were surprised, to say the least, as you found yourself craving more. You grew fond of the feeling of his lips on yours, and you were beyond devastated — a pout evident on your glossy lips, when Sukuna pulled away.

You sank down into the back of your seat, covering your reddening cheeks, and attempting to hide from the world as Sukuna only gave a shit-eating grin to the people around you both.

Was it the beer that made you do all of that? Oh, right. You’re completely sober! God, you wondered what possessed you to do such a thing, much less, on live video! There was no excuse for what you just did. Nada.

“Was it really that bad? — That you had to hide away like a little hobbit?” Sukuna teased, laughing as you continued to get impossibly more red.

He really, really enjoyed this.

#if this flops i might just kms #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader

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yamamasjumpercables · 2 days

Text

Animosity

Chris!Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cussing and some occasional boners

a/n: I’m finally back from the dead

For as long as You have been friends with the triplets, You always knew that Chris had something against You. He was Your biggest hater. You tried to show Nick a new dress you had bought, and there he was detesting Your whole existence. Whenever you spoke, there he was to interpret You with the same 3 phrases. That being “why the fuck are your speaking”, “doesn’t that big mouth of yours ever get tired” or “close your mouth or flies will come in”. Either way he loathed you. You, Matt and Nick don’t know where this hate came from but, all You guys knew it wouldn’t come in the way of your friendship. At first You were hurt by the comments, the cold glares and attitude. As time went by You started to find his hate, somewhat, amusing. I mean you know what they say if you have haters you must be doing something right, and in this case You were always right.

Right now You and the triplets were getting ready for a gala You had been invited to by one of your colleagues at work. You didn’t want to go alone to the gala so You decided to invite them including Chris, even though Matt and Nick were telling You that You didn’t have to invite Chris and one of them would stay home with Chris. Yet You refused to leave Chris out just because of his attitude towards You, besides You decided it would be fun to piss him off the entire night. Purposefully You bought a dress that looked most flattering on Your body. Your hair was down, and gold jewelry adorned Your neck and ears. Your makeup wasn’t anything over the top, You kept sexy but simple. Nick walked into his bathroom where You were getting ready, to tell you that they were ready to head out. “You look amazing Y/n, the baddest bitch here” Nick said clapping his hands excitedly. “Thank you, you look so amazing Nick” You say with happily. “We have to get going you guys” Matt says walking into Nick’s room to see what’s taking you guys so long. “Omg Y/n you look absolutely beautiful” Matt says covering his mouth in awe. “Thank you Matt you don’t look too bad yourself” You say smiling, then walking up to him to fix his tie. “We should hurry before big mouth starts yelling and pisses me off” Nick says rolling his eyes. “I heard that fuck face” Chris says walking to the almost crowded bathroom. “Can you guys hurry up I’ve been here for 5 seconds and Y/n is already making me lose my appetite” Chris says giving You a disgusted look. “If I’m making you lose you appetite then look away, oh my bad you can’t I’m to sexy I know” You say with a smirk on Your face, turning around shaking your ass a little. “You see Chris, you didn’t even need to say that she’s very pretty” Matt says coming to your defense. “Yea pretty ugly, now let’s go I don’t have time for this shit” Chris says scoffing walking out the bathroom. “I’m so sorry for him Y/n” Nick says putting his hand on your shoulder. “It’s ok Nick I know he’s secretly in love with me” You say putting your hand on Nick’s. “In your fucking dreams” Chris says stoping in his tracks. “Hmm looks like I’ll be dreaming real good tonight then” You say walking up to Chris, caressing his face. Chris attempts to swat your hands away, but you grab his hands and placed them on your waist. Putting your arms around his neck pulling him closer. “When you want to stop acting like a fucking cunt and an asshole, I’ll be waiting for you in your room, how ever you want me. It’s up to you” You whispered in his ear seductively, looking at him in the eyes as you walked out Nick’s room. “You good bro, you might wanna handle that” Matt says to Chris, addressing his massive boner. “Ye-Yea let’s just” Chris says coming back to reality, fixing his tie.

As Chris didn’t think this night could get any worse, he had to sit in the back with You while Nick and Matt were in the front. Since You and Nick were in charge of the aux, you guys decided to put the music on full blast. It was mainly some chill songs until, Partition by Beyoncé came on. Which happens to be You and Nick’s favorite song, You were feeling on your self in a sultry way, making strong eye contact with Chris. But a specific part of the song came on and You and Nick sung your hearts out. “Oh he so horny, yeah he want to fuck, He bucked all my buttons, he ripped my blouse” You and Nick both sang out, while you pulled down the strap of your dress just a little bit for a little tease (on the blouse part). “Handprints and good grips all on my ass” You and Nick sang, while you arch You back feeling on Your ass a bit. At this point Chris was getting harder by the second. Wishing he was just a the gala to get away from You. But he knew if You kept acting like this it was going to be a long night.

I’m sorry I have been gone for a while… But I’m back now and my beautiful wife @worldlxvlys gave me some inspiration for this fic (Anna is literally a goddess) but imma make a part 2 of this soon enough (Still don’t have a tag list, lmk if you guys would like to be apart of one if I make it)…

I love yall<3

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #yamamasjumpercables #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader

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zae-heeyyy · 2 days

Text

Pastiche

Summary: You and Arthur escape through writing. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x gn!Reader Word Count: 2,345 Trigger Warning: Tuberculosis, death Tags: angst, sadness, high honor Arthur

a/n: Thanks for you kind words on Chiaroscuro. I've enjoyed writing again so much! I'm in my tragedy era. My hs english teacher's voice haunts me when I'm writing, so I spent a lot of time scrutinizing this. Didn't mean for it to be so long, but I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

pastiche: a work of art or literature that imitates the style or character of another, often as an homage or tribute.

You knew there was something special about Arthur Morgan the day you met him. Despite his best efforts to believe otherwise, he was easy on the eyes, and his dry humor combined with his strong sense of honor sealed your crush on the cowboy. Everybody else could see that he was sweet on you, too, noticing when he pulled you to sit at the fire with him or how he watched you around camp. As more time passed, you'd become mostly inseparable, taking every moment you had to sneak away together. One of your favorite places to escape to was the fields of Little Creek River in Big Valley. You'd be reading a book and glance over to find Arthur staring intently at an animal until it was out of sight. Then he'd open up his journal and sketch it. He wasn't doing that today, though. He was staring across the field, but you could tell he was elsewhere in his mind.

"Got somethin' to say," his eyes met yours earnestly. When he told you he loved you, a laugh erupted deep from your belly. Dumbfounded, he asked, "The hell is so funny?" his own laugh betraying his attempt to be solemn. It was hilarious to you that he didn't think you already knew that and that he didn't know you absolutely felt the same.

Another day, you were lying in Arthur's lap in the grass. Just the day before, he had returned to camp with bruised knuckles and some poor fool's blood on his face—one of Strauss's clients. You longed for a life where bruised knuckles and loan sharking were distant memories.

"Where would you be if you weren't here," you'd asked, holding his hand in yours. He stroked your thumb with his and gazed over the valley like always.

"Hard to imagine." He mumbled, sounding far away.

You nodded in agreement and replied, "You're always writing or drawing in your notebook. Maybe you could've been an artist or a writer." The thought brought a soft smile to your face, and you imagined, just for a second, a life where Arthur's biggest worry was perfecting his latest masterpiece.

He huffed in dry amusement, "Probably wouldn't have known how to read if it weren't for Dutch and Hosea."

You assented again and sighed, the smile on your face growing wider.

"Arthur Morgan: author and illustrator." You held your hands up in dramatic fashion as if envisioning the words in front of you. Then you untangled yourself from him and sat up, "You could, you know? It's not too late. Maybe a biography?"

"A story about my life, huh?" He looked at you with a dumb smile, "I think a book about dirt would be more interestin'." He bobbed his head up and down as if nodding made his thought more true. You shoved him playfully, and he raised his eyebrow at you and held out his hands questionly. "What? There's all different kinds of dirt," he started counting on his fingers." Brown dirt, red dirt, hard dirt—"

You cut him off, "I'm serious, Arthur! This life…it ain't one normal folks live." A shit-eating grin crept up his face as he fought not to make another joke at his own expense. He shoved it down and kept listening. "Sure, it's just your life to you, but other people might find it interesting, exciting, even."

He thought for a second, then put his hands in the air, mimicking you, "The Confessions of Arthur Morgan: The Detailed Life of a Gunslinger by Arthur Morgan. Sounds like a Pinkerton's wet dream."

"I see what you mean," you trail off, fingers playing in the grass. "Could change the name. People publish under a different name all the time. There's a word for that, I think."

"Pseudonym," he responded, his accent thick. "Think it's got one of those silent letters in front." He said it so matter of factly, and it confirmed what you already knew about him: he was far more intelligent than anybody ever gave him credit for. Still, you left the idea alone and thought Arthur had, too.

Then, on another afternoon in the fields near Little Creek River, he spoke out of nowhere. "Arthur Callahan or Tacitus Kilgore?"

"Hmm?" you asked, barely glancing up from your book.

"For the pen name," he confirmed, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

From that day on, your trips to Little Creek River became writing sessions. He bought a notebook that you two would trade off, coming up with ideas for the dramatized life of the gunslinger. You'd taken some creative liberties, and the story wasn't exactly a biography anymore. It had shaped into a Western love story. Arthur Callahan, after living a bad life, met someone who made him want to be better, an angel sent to rescue the devil himself. Arthur Callahan would get the perfect ending; a normal life. It was all Arthur's idea.

"It's not my story; it's ours," he'd told you.

You had been daydreaming about the possibilities for your novel for some time, but the chaos of life with the gang left little room to focus on it. The sudden move from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point made things worse. Somewhere in the move, the manuscript was lost or destroyed—either way, it was gone. You couldn't hold back your tears during your next trip to Big Valley. Arthur's big hands swallowed your face as his thumbs wiped your tears away.

"Shhh, we'll rewrite it, sweetheart," he promised.

Despite Arthur's gentle nudges, you couldn't find it in you to rewrite the story. Another day, he'd invited you to ride with him, heading off to your usual spot. He'd asked once more if you were feeling up to writing again. When you rejected the idea, he shook his head, seemingly surrendering.

"Fine! You're so damn stubborn." There was no malice in his voice, though, and his eyes twinkled a little. "Looks like I gotta take matters into my own hands." Instead of stopping the horse in the fields as usual, Arthur stopped short, cutting into nearby woods. Eventually, he halted outside of the small cabin that was Vetter's Echo and hitched the horse outside.

"Come on," he said, helping you down. "I've got a surprise for you." You walked up the cabin's steps, and he swung the door open to a small living quarters. "It don't got a back door, and I'm pretty sure the feller living here got mauled by a bear, but it's got one of these things." He gestured to the desk in the corner of the small cabin, a typewriter sitting atop it, "I don't have the first clue about using it." So he left it for you to figure out. He'd sit on a stool beside you, reading from a notebook, and you'd type slowly at first, but as time went on, the keys felt as familiar to you as a gun trigger did to him.

Then things started falling apart. You'd moved from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point, then to Shady Bell in a matter of weeks. The men went on a job to rob the bank in St. Denis, and most didn't return. You'd forgotten about the manuscript while trying to survive and spent weeks worried about Arthur and everybody else.

Then he came home to you, waterlogged but alive. You'd never felt more relieved. He was skinny and had a persistent cough, blaming it all on his rough journey. But it didn't stop him from finishing the book as promised. He'd write whenever he had a chance, and you'd go back to the little cabin in the woods, you typing and him reading.

Then he couldn't get through a page without coughing. You listened, concern etched on your face as he told you about his coughing spell and subsequent visit to the doctor in the city. Tuberculosis: practically a death sentence. After that, he'd step back when you tried to be close to him and wouldn't let you kiss him or be intimate with him. You spent a lot of time crying while he dipped his head in profound shame.

Weeks later, he woke you up at night, gently shaking you and whispering to not alert anyone else. "C'mon, get dressed and ride with me." He was serious, his jaw set, his voice low but demanding. You didn't know what was wrong, but dread ran through your veins. You rode far away from camp, mostly in silence, your anxiety not letting you say anything.

"You're gonna live a good life. "he finally said, breaking the silence. Your eyes stung, and you felt a lump in your throat.

"I don't want to hear this right now, Arthur."

He shook his head, frustrated, and spoke through clenched teeth. "Listen to me." His tone made you flinch. He'd never taken on that tone with you, ever. "This whole thing with Dutch, it's over. You gotta run. Gotta get out and make a good life for yourself."

You wanted to protest; you weren't going to leave him, not now. But then you saw the waiting stagecoach up ahead. Your heart dropped and shattered into a million pieces. You reached around him to pull the horse's reins, coming to a skidding stop. You hopped down and started shaking your head, frantic in your movements and words.

"No, Arthur. No."

You wiped away the quickly falling tears as you turned, fast walking, almost running back to that godforsaken camp that was Beaver Hollow. Even in his sickness, it only took Arthur a few big steps to reach you, grabbing you by the waist and turning you to face him. And then you cursed at him, pounded your fists against his chest, and wailed into the night. He just pulled you close to him, squeezing you until you didn't fight anymore. He gave you a stack of cash, made you promise to run, and said he'd come find you after it was all over. But both of you knew, deep down, that you were setting eyes on each other for the last time. He kissed your head. You sobbed into his chest, only letting go when the impatient stagecoach driver beckoned you.

"Never could've imagined I'd know somebody as perfect for me as you." All you could choke out was, "I love you," over and over and over again. He slipped a folded letter into your hand and helped you into the coach filled with your things. He stood silently with his hat in his hands while you rode off into the night. You sobbed for as long as your body let you while the coach took you down to Copperhead Landing.

First, Tilly showed up with Jack, and then Sadie came with Abagail. But then John arrived bearing Arthur's hat and satchel with a look in his eyes so terrible that it brought you to a screaming sob. That night, when everybody had finally settled down to sleep, you slipped away, leaving a note of thanks and well wishes. You were alone then, the way you wanted it to be without Arthur.

Eight years; it had been eight years since everything went to shit. In eight years, you worked your ass off with any odd jobs you could find. Keeping busy was how you cured your broken heart. You'd tried as hard as you could to forget about the life you'd once lived until you read a headline in the newspaper: MICAH BELL KILLED. The memories flooded back to you, and you returned to a place you hadn't visited in a while. You only kept 2 things from that time: a letter from Arthur and the manuscript you'd written with him. Forged in Fire, you called it. After all this time, you couldn't remember who came up with the name, but you remembered why. You two were like tempered metal; the more you walked through hellfire, the stronger you became.

Then there was Arthur's letter. You'd read it only once before today.

"Things I wanted to say but did not have the courage to say aloud." was scrawled across the top of the page, followed by a list.

"Keep visiting Big Valley.

Keep writing.

Publish the book.

Watch every sunset.

Trust your gut.

Please, be happy."

You heard his voice through every word. He'd underlined the third point: publish the book. In that moment, you decided to take a leap. You wrote to a publisher and sent a copy of the manuscript. And that's all it took. Things went into a tailspin after that, and before you knew it, you were holding a hard copy of the manuscript you and Arthur had worked on together all that time ago.

You'd made an effort, then, to find Abigail and John and Jack. They were held up at a ranch, Beecher's Hope, and were married now. You caught up with the Marstons and apologized for hastily disappearing all those years ago. They were happy for you, and you for them.

On your departure, John took your hand, "I don't talk about him much these days, but I don't think he loved anybody like he loved you." He paused for a moment and forced his eyes to meet yours. "He's buried out in Ambarino, near Donner Falls. Top of the mountain. I can take you." You declined John's offer but set out east toward Donner Falls the next day.

You found him around noon and watched wistfully as an eagle flew from its spot on a rock behind the flowery grave. You fell to your knees, no longer able to control the tears flowing down your face. "I did it, my love," you choked through tears. It'd been a long, long time since you let yourself feel this pain—a longing to reach something impossible. You dabbed the tears away from your eyes and sat in the grass, hugging Forged in Fire to your chest. "Thought I'd read it to you," you spoke into the air. You opened the book, cracked the spine, and read "Chapter One: Heaven's Fall, Hell's Rise."

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