#i put so much thought into these cards that it took like 2 weeks for me to finish these sketches.....

[archermind]

Beg

Spencer Reid x F!Reader (18+)

Description: Spencer has been working away on a case for 2 weeks. By the time you both see eachother again, you are so lustful for one another. You can’t help but touch yourself over the phone to him - you are willing to take the punishment for not waiting until he is home. 

Word count: approx. 1500

Content: bl0wjob, f!oralrecieving, PinV, Unprotected, Dirty talk, Hair Grabbing, cvm swallowing, name calling, rough sex, dom!spencer

authors note: apologies if this is too graphic.. looking back i can’t believe i wrote this lol! oh well… this one is truly for the horned up ones ig hehe 🤭

Need grows over time… but lord, you were desperate for spencer. You were desperate for his touch, lips and cock. This had been your longest time away from him since you both met. With Spencer being away working a heavy case - you hadn’t had his attention or sex in a while. Longer than you are used to. Your hormones have been raging lately putting your sex drive at an all time high. However, knowing Spencer was on his way home to you now… you were practically panting at the thought of him. 

Your phone rang out. You leaped onto the bed, grabbing the phone and answering the call. You smiled as you heard Spencer mumble hello. You had missed him dearly after he hadn’t called you very much. You loved his voice… especially when it was full of moans. 

“Hey, Spence” you sighed.

“Bad news, I'm stuck in traffic, baby.”

You fell back onto the bed, letting out a groan. Why was life so cruel to do this to you? Just as the man you want most is on his way to you, yet again something prevents it. Spencer began rambling about how much he misses you and how you shouldn’t worry because it won't be too long… hopefully

“Hopefully it isn't Spence” you smirked, “i will just have to start without you”

Your hand trailed down to the waistband of your pants. You began to tease yourself, just like Spencer would. You let out a pleasurable sigh at the feeling of your clit being rubbed… slowly. You heard Spencer huff into the phone.

“Oh i hope you aren't doing what i think you are doing Y/N” he grumbled lowly. 

You moaned quietly, “what do you think i’m doing Spencer”

“I think you are being a little brat” he paused briefly, listening to the way your breath hitched as he called you a ‘brat’ 

“How come Spencer baby?” you teased, biting your bottom lip as your circular motions picked up speed a little more. 

“Because you are touching yourself when i am not there” he growled

“And what are you going to do about it?” you pause, playing your cards right before making your final move, “Dr Reid…”

Abruptly the phone call ended. You giggled knowing you pushed him to the edge. You leaned your head back from the pleasure you received in your dirty actions. As you did so, the door to your shared bedroom swung open. Your eyes widened as you were caught in the act from spencer. 

“That wasn't so smart was it now Y/N?” he slowly approached you, like you were prey and he was a predator. He was calculated and dangerous. He wanted to punish you and you knew it. 

You shook your head, sitting up. As you did he took his hand under your chin gently, forcing you to look up at him. He leant down to kiss the side of your temple. It was gentle and kind. Before pulling away, Spencer hovered near your ear. 

“Stand up and get on your fucking knees infront of me” he whispered, you did as he ordered. 

As you stood up, you watched him take his trousers off in front of you. You got to your knees and saw his hard leaking cock, precum gathering at the tip. You felt wetness pool at your core, soaking your panties. Spencer ran his hand into your hair before grabbing a fistful and forcing you to look at him. 

“Look what your dirty phone call did to me Y/N,” Spencer looked down at you as you smirked at the effect you had on him, “suck it” he called out to you.

Your hand gripped his long cock, looking up to gaze at him. You opened your mouth, licking Spencer from the base of his cock to his tip. You watched him suck in a harsh breath as you swirl your tongue around his tip to clean up the salty precum. You smirked at him before spitting onto his cock. As soon as you did so, Spencer gripped your hair and forced his dick into your throat with one thrust. You gripped the base of his cock, trying to steady his eagerness. You began bobbing your head as your other hand fondled his balls, causing him to whimper at your touch. You sucked on his tip, knowing it drove him wild as you moved your hand up and down working the base of his cock. Spencer moaned and panted as he grew closer to his climax. Spencer began fucking your throat, causing you to moan with your lips around his cock. It sent Spencer over the edge causing a stream of warm cum to shoot down your throat. 

“F-fuck Y/N” he stuttered.

You moved away from his cock, standing up and sitting yourself onto the bed. Spencer removed his shirt and walked towards you. Pushing you back, he crawled above you. Spencer kissed your swollen lips before moving to leave a trail of wet kisses along your jawline and neck. Quickly, he removed your pants and shirt. Spencer smirked as he was met with your bare breasts, realizing you had worn no bra. 

Spencer began brushing soft kisses against them, you giggled as his nose tickled your abdomen. His mouth stopped just above your black lacy waistline. The corners of Spencer's mouth upturned as he watched you buck your hips and wriggle with want and need. 

“Look who is needy now,” he said softly. 

“Please- Spence” you whined. 

You moaned, watching him tear off your underwear with his pearly whites. Your hands tangled in his hair as he nipped at the skin of your thigh with his soft bite. You writhed and wriggled beneath him, feeling his hot breath hover above your core. Slowly, he began to kitten lick your clit. You cried out with pleasure as he pushed his tongue into you - using his wet long tongue to fuck you sensless. Spencer’s long fingers stimulate your clit, while yours tangled into his brown mop of curls while you grinded against his hot mouth. 

Abruptly, Spencer pulled away. You yearned for his touch again as you squirmed under him. Spencer gripped your thighs as he flipped you on your stomach. You arched your spine, pushing your naked ass further out to him - your body begging for his cock to be buried within you. You felt hands grip your hips and push you away from his dick. 

Spencer tutted, “if you are that desperate, then beg.” 

You trembled with need and desperation. 

“Beg Y/N” he called out

“Fuck please Spence” you panted gripping the sheets below you in anger of your desperate need

“What do you want Y/N?” he questioned, making you beg more. 

“Please Spencer, i want you to fuck me hard with your cock. I need you” you hurriedly begged, the want becoming too much for you. 

“Such a good pretty slut you are, Y/N” Spencer taunted.

You felt him line his length with your cunt. Spencer grasped your hips, pulling you back onto his cock roughly. He pounded you again. again. And again. Harsh breaths with lingering moans fell from both of your lips recklessly. You gripped the sheets, crying with pleasure from each deep thrust. Spencer peppered kisses onto your shoulder as he leaned over you, allowing his cock to enter you deeper and hit more sensitive angles. 

“You feel so good Y/N” he breathed into your ear

You tried to form a sentence back to him but he had you cockdrunk and senseless with each thrust. Your words were mumbles and stutters, a ball of pleasure beginning to knot in your stomach. You turned your head, allowing for Spencer to kiss you deeply as your tongues greeted each other. It was hungry and rough. Your lips were both messy and flushed.

You felt yourself grow closer and closer to your climax. Your walls clenched around Spencer's cock. You bit your lip, trying to suppress any more loud cries or whimpers at the mercy of your neighbors.

“Spencer i'm going to c-c-” your breathing hitched with every word, the words left aimlessly on your tongue

You couldn’t even finish your words until you came quickly onto Spencer. You heard him grunt behind you, letting out a stream of profanities as he too came with you. Spencer allowed himself to fill you up before he helped you off of his dick and laid your tired body onto the bed.

Your skin was flushed from the events and his was too. You both lay there trying to regain sense. You looked at Spencer, watching as his chest heaved up and down. You shifted your body closer to him, settling against his warm sticky skin from sweat. He brushed your sex hair out of your face and pressed a light kiss atop of your head.

“I love you Spencer” you whispered

taglist: @cham9ions @bunbunbl0gs

[hana-no-seiiki]

Would you do a second part of Damián x Cat!villain!reader? Or maybe something with a different plot, but I need it too much 😵‍💫

I don’t usually entertain part 2 asks but cause it’s you my adorkable Lucas, I shall. I’m adding the other boys and some wild cards for good measure.

tw/cw: yandere, dick’s part gives me major second hand embarrassment but maybe that’s a me issue, (implied) jason has seggs with your unconscious body (but it’s consensual). damian is aged up but still younger than reader hence the condescending way of speech the latter has for him.

ROOFTOP TALKS W/ THE BOYS

☁️ . . . w/ Dickie Boi

When you were dating it was a lot of you flirting and him asking you to be a bit more professional. And then you promptly reminding him that your profession is being a thief.

And that you were taking that profession seriously by stealing his heart.

Kisses in the rain were pretty much your guys’s thing. As much as your cat heart hated being wet.

When he became Nightwing and after Jason’s death, you guys didn’t break up immediately. Just fizzled out. Long talks about everything and anything became short greetings and small talk until you two officially ended it.

Nowadays Dick tries his hardest to get your attention, he shows off a lot. Ups the romanticness of it all. Brings you all around the city for dates before you two chill on your favorite spot.

Dick felt great. He just spent an entire night out on a date with his first love, some might argue that you’re his only true one too. You two haven’t been able to hang out due to the chaos of life and Jason. But finally he was able to have you for himself for once. No Tim to watch you two through the cameras (he made sure all of those were unavailable), no Damian to stalk you two within the shadows (it took a while, but he managed to convince the big ol’ bat to keep the youngest occupied), and no vigilante business he had to deal with.

There was just one last thing. A kiss. (He wanted sex, to feel you around him again. But considering you two just got back into the swing of things he was willing to wait)

He closed his eyes, and leaned forward.

Only to be met with air.

And then the ground.

“Uhm. Did you just — I mean I know I look cute tonight and all — but did you just try to kiss me, Grayson?” You had only managed to narrowly dodge the action. A little amused by the way he’s currently making out with the floor, but mostly confused and somewhat terrified.

Dick groaned, of all the things to put him on the ground this week. “I thought - I thought we were…”

You looked at him, blinked a few times, and managed to utter out, “Dude.”

☁️ . . . w/ Hubby Toddy

Imma be honest with you. You two bone 80-90% of the times you guys meet.

The only reason that it’s not 100% is because of the danger you two are in for that 10-20%

The vigilante/villain lifestyle and environment isn’t ideal for boning 24/7 y’know.

The reason why you guys fuck so often is cause Cat Villain! Reader being the menace they are only has to remind Jason that he died a virgin for you two to get down to business.

The Batboys are obsessed with proving themselves/ a point in general after all. So you often play them like a fiddle with just a few words.

Aside from that, a lot of your rooftop talks are you being snarky towards each other. Jason asking you to stop risking your life with heists and you vice versa with his vendetta.

Which usually leads to anger fucking but I digress.

You two often snack on the greasiest, unhealthy food while together.

Sometimes you spend hours talking about what he missed while he was gone. Of course he already knows everything. He kept tabs on you and whatnot. But hearing you speak gives him a sense of calm like no other.

Cuddling ftw. Jason adores enveloping you.

He likes doing stuff that proves that you exist?? Like that you’re next to him. That both of you are alive in that moment.

“‘M sleepy.” Your eyelids were beyond heavy at that point. Jason wanted you to be up for every single round, and it seemed like his stamina was endless.

Usually you’d pass out and he’d just continue getting off using you but that night he gave you a challenge. Something about wanting to see the way your pretty eyes as he ruined your insides.

“Too much action for you tonight, kit?”

“Mhm.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll watch over you.” He shifted your body in a more secure position, wrapping his large arms around your form.

“Promise me you won’t disappear?”

“I’m here always.” He let out a deep breath.

As soon as he made sure you were out cold he continued,

“Not even death will keep me away from you, baby.”

☁️ . . . w/ Timsies Whimsies

Most of your hang outs are spent indoors

Otherwise it’d be you hovering over his shoulders as he works on his projects.

Most of your rooftop times with Tim are spent in silence, playing video games, or board games.

Sometimes you two would spend hours playing and voicing cheesy dating sims.

But sometimes you use the time to get him to sleep.

You two are very much opposites when it comes to sleep times. Like if we go full on cat mode here, you prolly sleep off like 70% of your life.

I really shouldn’t be writing this while I’m sleepy as hell shouldn’t I?

Tim had never slept so well in his entire life.

All he remembered before being lulled into dreamland was you singing, patting him on the head, and some laughter before everything went dark.

But now he wishes he never slept at all.

“Is this . . . an edit of us a kids—“

Tim slammed his laptop shut so hard he’s pretty sure he’d broken it.

You looked at him incredulously. How long had you been snooping through his stuff? How did you even manage to unlock it? He made sure it was inaccessible even to Bruce.

“I . . . I read this one fanfic . . . that we met as kids and grew up together.” He confessed.

Yes, Tim gets brainrots over [Cat Villain Name] x Reader / Red Robin fanfics. Could you blame him?

“Honestly that’s pretty cute and wholesome. The other things you have there on the other hand . . . “

“I’ll pay for all of your boba expenses for a year if you forget about this.”

“A decade and I’ll never look through your shit again.”

“Deal.”

☁️ . . . w/ Damie Baby

Up until recently your rooftop meetings have been an even more snarky version of Jason’s with less hatefucking more … hating.

While Dick is more extravagant with how he shows off. Damian is more on the ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about I’m just this awesome’ side of the spectrum.

It took him a while to finally figure out that you being a menace is more of a facade if anything

And boy did it make him get a romantic boner when he found out

Like it went from you teasing him to hell and back to him turning the tables

“Wow, ain’t it past your bedtime, Damie?”

“Not my fault I can’t get a wink of sleep without you beside me.”

“. . .Ah.”

Aside from that you like roping him into playing games and basically all the things he missed out on being trained to be as an assassin.

He in turn does more traditional courting methods on you. Like buying you flowers, having slow dances.

Sometimes you do each other’s henna.

(He definitely is smug about it when other members of the batfam ask)

He often scolds you about reading so much late into the night…and insists he reads everything for you while you sit prettily on his lap

His favorite activity is running his hands through your hair as you lay your head on his lap while he dictates a book out loud. Usually it’s non fiction so that A) you’d sleep faster, and B) he gets his readings for uni in.

☁️ . . . w/ Bruce ig

“Hey, loser.” You purred, appearing from the underneath Batman’s cape.

Without a beat, he replied, “[Cat Villain Name].” and nothing else. He does not move. Doesn’t even make an attempt to seem affected by your antics.

“Awe, I missed you too!” You hugged him tightly and gave a pat for measure.

You were about to let when you felt a weight atop your head.

He was… giving you a headpat? Albeit awkwardly.“Who are you and what did you do to—“

“Treat them well.”

And he disappears.

Hey, wasn’t that your move?

In anycase,

It’s about time that Bruce learnt,

if you can’t beat em, join em.

[ladykailitha]

Staking a Claim Part 2

Hello! We get a resolution to the last cliffhanger and add a second less dire cliffhanger.

I will be posting this on Sundays and Tuesdays until it's completed for a total of six parts. Thursdays will be reserved for whatever story I want to update that week. It might be the soulmate AU, the werewolf AU, or even omega AU. Wednesdays are still for WIP Wednesday.

Part 1

***

Steve woke up with a pressing need to throw up. He sat up in a hurry and looked around. He didn’t recognize his surroundings and didn’t know where to go to empty his guts.

Someone thrust a bucket into his hands and he gratefully puked into it. A warm hand rubbed his back and that person began muttering encouraging inanities.

Finally he was able to stop and he looked up to see who his rescuer was.

“Eddie?” he murmured. “What happened?”

“Hey, babe,” Eddie whispered back. “Don’t worry about that right now. I just need you to keep throwing up whatever’s in your stomach, okay?”

Steve blinked at him a moment before he was forced to vomit again. It came out through his nose as well as his mouth. His nose was raw and his throat wrecked. But he couldn’t stop.

Tears ran down his face as he body continued to reject whatever it was that was causing this.

“That’s right, let it all out.”

Again Steve stopped and he looked up at Eddie mournfully. “I hate this.”

Eddie pulled him into his arms and held him tightly. “You think you can make the short walk to the bathroom?”

Steve nodded and went to go set down the bucket but Eddie stopped him.

“You might want to hold on to that just in case.”

Steve looked at Eddie then back at the bucket. He nodded.

“You hold onto your new friend Mr. Bucket,” Eddie said lightly, “and I’ll hold onto you. Okay?”

Steve nodded again and let Eddie help him to the bathroom. Eddie took the bucket and set it in the bathtub. He opened the toilet seat so if Steve needed to throw up, nothing would impede that and went in search of a spare toothbrush. He didn’t think that any of the guys would want Steve touching theirs and he wasn’t about to let him touch his.

“Eureka!” he whisper shouted. “When you feel up to it, you can use this to brush your teeth.”

Steve stared at him blankly like putting anything in his mouth would be a nightmare right then.

Eddie took a deep breath and held it for a moment. “Right, that’s not important at this moment. Got it. Priorities, Munson. Get it together.”

Tears streamed down Steve’s face and he whispered, “I’m sorry. I tend to ruin everything.” And then promptly began throwing up again. He started to shake as the vomiting and the cold got to him.

Eddie walked out and Steve really began to sob.

Then there was a warm blanket placed around his shoulders. “You didn’t ruin anything, Stevie. I promise I’ll tell you all about it when your well enough to hear it, but it wasn’t your fault.”

Steve sobs became hiccups then the hiccups became sniffles and then Eddie looked down to see that he had fallen asleep.

Eddie rocked him back and forth on the cold bathroom floor, trying hard to not fall in love with this man.

*

When Steve woke up a second time, he was in a cramped bathroom, wrapped in a warm blanket and pressed to Eddie’s side.

Eddie must have felt him stir. “Hey, baby. How you feeling?”

Steve buried his face into Eddie’s neck. “Like I’ve been run over. I didn’t think I drank that much to get this hungover.”

Eddie carded his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Do you still feel like you need to throw up?”

Steve lifted his head as he thought about it. “No. I feel like shit, but not like my guts are going turn themselves inside out.”

“Good,” he said. “I’m glad. Why don’t you take a shower and brush your teeth and I’ll set some clothes for you to change into on the toilet seat, okay?”

Steve nodded.

Eddie helped him to his feet and got the water in the shower started for him.

Steve stripped out of his clothes and got into the shower. He closed the curtain and just let the warm water wash over him. He thought hard about what happened last night.

The only thing he remembered was that he had been having a great time and then nothing. He heard the door open and then close quickly. He peeked around the curtain and saw the clothes on the toilet seat as promised.

Steve relaxed with a sigh. He looked around the shower and was surprised to see how neatly organized it all was. But he didn’t want to take anyone’s shampoo or anything so he just rinsed his hair instead. The body wash on the other hand was something he had to use. He opened each one to smell them, not wanting to grab something that would give him a migraine later.

He settled on the third one. It was woody, like pine. But not super strong or fake smelling. He got to work scrubbing himself down.

Once he no longer felt as though he’d been dragged out of hell by his balls he stepped out of the shower and dried off with the big fluffy towel that was on the hamper.

He dressed in the clothes Eddie had set out for him, complete with underwear. They still had the fold lines and wrinkles fresh from the pack. They were black boxers but then Steve couldn’t really see Eddie wearing anything else.

He slid them on and they were warm and comfortable. Next went the warm sweats and then finally the band shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked and felt like shit. There was nothing for it. He had to go out and face the music.

Or at least Eddie Munson, which as far as Steve was concerned was the same thing.

When he walked out into the main part of the apartment, he could tell it was still early enough that everyone else was in bed, but not so early that it was obscene to be seen awake after a night at the bar.

Steve slid into one of the bar stools at the counter and watched as Eddie made breakfast. Eggs, link sausage, bacon, and hashbrowns.

“That’s a lot,” he murmured. “I’m not sure my stomach is going to appreciate your effort.”

Eddie grinned. “It seems really counter-intuitive, but greasy foods tend fair better on hangovers and upset stomachs. You’d think it’d be the opposite, but nope.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “Huh, I never would have thought it either.”

“Why don’t you call someone to let them know you’re okay, while I go rouse the boys?” Eddie suggested as he turned all the heat on the stove to low. He nodded to the phone on the wall.

“Robin!” Steve cried. He looked around for a clock for the exact time. “Shit! I was supposed to be at work twenty minutes ago!”

***

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @lololol-1234 @r0binscript @monsterloverforhire @mugloversonly @live-the-fangirl-life @f0xxyb0xxes @lublix

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Sung Jinwoo x Terminally ill Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[ TW: Terminal Illness, Angst to Fluff, Solo Leveling Spoilers ]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 2 || Part 1 ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ We'll Try This Again, Begin Again with Zero. But This Time? I'm Never Letting You Go. ] ¡! ❞

Living felt more like a punishment more than anything. The pain he goes through starts feeling more and more deserving in his eyes. He was pushing himself to the limits when he shouldn't, he's punishing himself over a sin that wasn't really his fault.

But if anyone tells him that, he wouldn't look back at them. He would ignore their concerns.

He has a duty to uphold anyway, a duty that only he can do as a monarch.

Jinwoo has ultimately grown to be a vessel of war thanks to the system.

He didn't really care much, he already placed insurance to his name if anything happens to him.

When he's gone, his remaining family would atleast live off of something.

He has already watched his father die too thanks to the godforsaken monarchs.

What more can he loose?

Over and over again, he puts himself in the battlefield, exhausting himself on purpose, never even sleeping nor eating.

He was just fighting like a dog.

Well, dog's get much more care than what he does to himself, so does it really count?

It doesn't matte,r Jinwoo physically cannot be exhausted.

But mentally? It's a different story.

He wasn't really depressed, at least, that's what he tells himself.

He really felt numb, not exactly sad, not exactly happy either. It's as if his emotions lie in the middle.

Jinwoo felt hollow, completely hollow.

As if he were merely nothing more than a puppet in war.

The only thing that really urges him to move forward is the distant sound of his beloved's voice in the back of his head.

And soon, after he had finally murdered the Monarch of Destruction— He would be granted a wish.

Battered and tired while on the floor, he thought of what he could possibly ask from the rulers.

Thought of?

No, Jinwoo already knew what he wanted.

It was to turn back time.

To meet old friends again, to stop the gates from opening, to have his family whole again

,... To meet you again.

Yes. That's right. All of this was for you anyway.

Jinwoo recalls that memory very clearly, how you were still in the hospital bed and you two were playing a game of cards while he tells you about how he plans to be a hunter soon.

Your words were quite cute really: "I hope Woowoo becomes a really strong man!"

Those silly, innocent words of yours.

Up to this day, he still smiles lovingly whenever he remembers that.

He became this strong not just for himself and his family who needs him, but for you, the brave little soul who endured that illness—

Jinwoo fought for you

And since he is given the opportunity to correct the past, he requiested for time to be rewinded.

Right then and there, a brilliant flash of white would engulf the earth, bathing it in all it's glory. eradicating all traces of the lifeforms and shadows there is to this pathetic universe. For once in a million years, the earth was beautiful again. It looked like a star gleaming along with countless others.

Soon, Jinwoo would wake up to the sound of his baby sister's calling. Jinwoo would sit up, gently smiling at her.

It took a while for everything to sink in, for everything for him to realize that this? All of this was reality.

How badly he wanted to find you in the time he spent, for just a few weeks, he enjoyed being a child again.

Laughing with friends, screaming at others for a vanguard or healer in the pc cafe— He wanted to find you in an instant. But not right now.

He took care of some stuff first.

Your illness wont awaken until then after all.

27 years, he spent time in that goddamn dimensional crack fighting monarchs and all that crap.

When he was done, he finally came home.

Just as he set foot back in earth again, he went straight to the hospital.

April 9th of spring, where the pink petals bloomed and flew around the air— This beautiful but tragic day.

Was the first time you had collapsed and coughed out blood.

It started with your lungs, to your kidneys, to your heart, to everywhere.

You had metastatic cancer.

Coughing up blood was only the start.

And Jinwoo had come home just in time.

He didn't even ask for directions, he just went straight to your hospital room.

He knew this godforsaken place better than the doctors and nurses himself after all.

As he pried open the door, there you were, resting on the bed staring absentmindedly at the pink trees outside your window. When yopu heard the sound of the door, you turned your attention to Jinwoo.

Dazzling and innocent eyes, just as he remembers. Your youthful face, free of any sign of wrinkles. Still chubby and plump that he wanted to just kiss your cheeks all over.

As you called out his name, Jinwoo marched over and embraced you tightly.

"I'm sorry, it took me a while" Jinwoo whispers ever so lovingly as he rubs the b ack of your head affectionately.

You were confused at first, wondering why your best friend is acting all cuddly and sappy when he totally did not disappear off of the face of the earth and come out of nowhere like some sort of boogey man. But regardless, you can't help but notice the traces of tears about to break from lovely grey eyes.

When you reached over to touch his face, his voice broke and he started crying almost instantly.

Panicked and confused, you pulled him to a tight hug.

Jinwoo was crying, and in his tears and broken voice you could hear the amount of anguish he had been bottling up, the brokenness in his heart finally being revealed in the open for you to hear and see. It felt as if Jinwoo was carrying a hundred years worth of burden. And you could do nothing more than to soothe him.

"I'm sorry... Ditching you out of nowhere and acting like a sappy pup wo got kicked" He chokes as he chuckles gently, "I promise, promise, that I won't leave you like that anymore. Just trust me, okay? Here, drink this."

He hands you a weird fantasy-potion thing with red liquid inside. You wanted to deny him of it but Jinwoo stubbornly insisted upon it, as if your life depended on it.

Well, tehnically speaking, it did depended on that potion.

After making sure you gulped down every single drop of the crimson liquid, Jinwoo pressed his forehead against yours.

Mumbling ever so sweetly; "Let's do this again, okay? You and me, goofing around. I'll let you eat as much sweets as you like, I'll show a lot of pretty things. Don't worry about anything else, Woowoo will take care of it."

Somehow, you felt that Jinwoo meant that on a deeper level. You felt like right now, what in front of you wasn't just anyone else, but someone ready to lay down their life for your sake. The person in front of you, you felt as if he was going to follow you to the ends of the earth to the stars above your heads. Somehow, it feels as if his words was a promise that he would follow you wherever you go.

He already lost you once, damned will he be if that happens again.

[selarina]

This is Part 2 because you guys asked

This florist guy is a peculiar lanky character, who later revealed himself as Gojo Satoru, who is apparently the son of a rich guy, the grandson a rich guy. He descended from a whole lineage of rich men and women, and so, it seemed particularly odd that this scion of affluence was was cooped up in a barely running florist shop.

So, you didn’t end up texting the guy after he cheekily slipped his number on the card but you did get rather… intrigued?

There’s something so strange and unreal about him. Apart from the oddity, the lankiness, the outright boldness that could only be a result of a privileged upbringing, he’s also interested in you — and boldly so. It’s never truly happened to you before, even your current boyfriend took about 6 whole months of weighing out the pros and cons before asking you out. It feels nice, you do suppose.

You’re lounging on your bed, the red roses from the shop lying beside you on your bed table almost dead from the rejection of the apology you gave. And honestly, you thought not to put waste to such pretty flower. You intended to put it into a vase or an empty bottle but you never ended up doing it. It’s funny how you’ve managed to neglect them over the past few days. It seems like a cruelly fitting metaphor of your relationship.

you: remember that florist guy

yue: sighh

yue: yeah you haven’t shut up about him all week if you haven’t noticed

you: shut up i only mentioned him like twice

you: anyway

you: i’m pretty sure he told me he wished my boyfriend died

yue: WHAT

yue: he’s just like me fr <3

You sighed. He is just like her. She’s never liked your boyfriend and saw right through him to be the facade of a temporary high school relationship based on nothing but superficial optics that would hurt at least one of you on the way.

But now, at the very least, she felt safe knowing it won’t be you, regardless of how cruel and selfish that may be. She always prioritised only the people around her. It’s something you admire about her, you wish you could care about the people around you as much as she did.

You mulled over the prospect of texting the florist, Gojo Satoru. For starters, he’s clearly interested in you, and you’re clearly in an odd limbo of a relationship and the ethics of that are well… pretty grey. And also, he came off strong, bold and you’re just meh. The first taste of your bitter sweetness and he’ll run.

A week passes, the withering roses sit comfortably at the bottom of your trash bin, amid ruffled paper, tissues and other junk alike. You stil find yourself thinking about Gojo Satoru, pondering whether you should send him a message.

If he's going to run away, you reasoned, you don't see the harm. Well, you do see the harm for your current relationship but again, he's going to run. So, it doesn't truly matter. So, you text him.

---

A week elapsed, and you received no text back, it started to eat you alive just a bit. The single checkmark next to your message mocked you every time you opened the chat. Did he give you a dead phone number? Was he just being nice?

It's all too odd, and the memory of you meeting the guy starts to feel like something you made up. You try not to dwell on it much, focusing on school, chores, sports, friends. Yet, after exhausting these distractions, you found yourself lying in bed, bones growing drowsy, thinking and dreaming about the man.

So, several days later, you do something slightly insane. Some might argue it was the most sane course of action, namely... Yue. But who cares? You're the only one here to judge.

You really, truly do not have interest in him but you do find yourself slowly taking the long route back home, walking past the flower shop every chance you get this week. But you always made sure to maintain a distance, choosing to walk on the other side of road, because like you said before — you aren't interested, just curious really.

And it would truly insane if this meant anything because he's just some guy you met while buying roses for your boyfriend.

You start to notice the little things about the shop itself — how it seems perpetually quiet, how the flowers displayed outside changing is the only sign of it being active, and then you eventually manage to catch a glimpse of Satoru inside, tending to the blooms like he's a practiced still from a movie.

You started to wonder if he was purposefully ignoring you. His quaint and unpopular shop always seemed devoid of customers. What did he do with all his time? From all the times you have crossed past the shop, not a single one of these instances has had any customers in them.

And one day, you decide to finally go back into the shop. No excuses prepared, you decide to make it all up as you go.

"Thought you'd never come in," he greeted you with a grin, leaning casually against the counter as if posing for a photograph.

You turned to scan every corner of the shop, checking to see if anyone else was present, reluctant to divulge your teenage romantic conundrum to an audience.

But to your relief, the shop was empty, save for the two of you.

You turned back to Satoru, noticing how his signature black sunglasses lay perched on the bridge of his nose. That's another one of those unusual things you've noticed about him, how he's always wearing his glasses.

One day you got late at school, having stayed back to hang some posters, so when you walked back you noticed the man still donning his glasses, even though the night had already set itself in the sky. You didn't understand why he would wear them. Perhaps, he has an eye condition.

"So, you didn't reply to my text," you say, striving for a casual tone as you pocketed your hands and approached the counter. You try to ignore the implications of him knowing you were walking past here all week.

He doesn't say anything, tilting his head, before he startles you by taking off into the backroom.

You wait there, confused, staring at the silent flowers beside you, as you wait and you wait.

He reemerged with a bag, rummaging through it for something? His phone, maybe?

Yes, his phone. "Right! Sorry! Sorry, I had my phone off," he explained, his eyes focused on his loading phone.

"You have one... right here," you remarked, removing your hand from your pocket and pointing at another phone resting on the counter.

He chuckles, "Huh, yeah. I do have another phone, but that's more for business stuff. My personal phone is the one you texted," he clarified, nodding toward the device in his hands.

"I see," you replied plainly, slipping your hand back into your pocket.

"I'm sorry for not responding. How about I make it up to you over some Mochi?" he grins. "Today? Right now?"

"Whoa, hold on. I didn't agree to go on a date with you. Remember, I have a boyfriend," you reminded him.

"Right," he grits with restrained chuckle. "Well, I didn't ask you out on a date. Just Mochi."

You can't help but raise an eyebrow at his response, amused by his persistence.

"Just Mochi, huh? Are you always this forward with all your customers?" you tease, finding yourself intrigued by him and all his boldness and audacity.

"Well, you're not really a customer today. Unless, you want to buy me flowers before our date?" he grins, abandoning his apron, as he comes from behind the counter.

"Hey! I said this wasn't a date," you find yourself yelling back at him, leaving only a slew of chortles as a response from him.

[devilat-thedoor]

Smile Pretty 2

A/N: it’s been quite some time since i put anything out. and i know this probably isn’t what most people are hoping for from me, but i simply couldn’t stop thinking about this. (half credit to my sun, liana fr, because she multiplies my brainpower by 76000000. so. HUUUUUGE shoutout to @stardustvanfleet and @jakesguitarsolo for being my favorite people ever and offering a never ending stream of jake thoughts. i love you both endlessly and you don’t even understand how much i appreciate you🩵

Word Count: 4.2k

Jake x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI(Oral[f rec], Unprotected Sex, Spit, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Power struggle???, a bit of praise, teensy bit of cumplay, Camera Use, very light impact play) if there was anything i may have missed, please do not hesitate to tell me!

Making your way down the corridor, you watched the room numbers as you went, searching for 623. Tour had started a month ago and you hadn’t seen Jake since the day he left; you were supposed to visit him a week ago, but your work schedule got messed up and you couldn’t make the trip. He was disappointed and you swore you’d make it up to him, but what he didn’t know is that you’d already arranged new plans and, with Josh’s help, you were currently strolling down the hallway of their hotel to surprise your boyfriend. You stopped in front of his door, flipping the keycard through your fingers and shaking out your nerves. Holding the card up to the reader, you paused, leaning in to press your ear against the door. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth at what you were hearing; a series of grunts and groans that were unmistakably Jake’s…but there were other sounds too. More moans, quieter than his, but they were feminine. He’s watching porn?

You pressed the keycard to the door and listened to the confirming beeps before pushing it open. Jake was shifting fast, all but tossing his phone across the room as he yanked a pillow over his legs to cover the evidence of whatever he was doing. “Goddammit, Josh. Just because you have the extra key doesn’t mean- Shit…” His eyes went wide when you stepped into his view.

“Surprise…” You couldn’t hide the smirk on your lips as he gazed at you like a kid caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Closing the door, you dropped your bag to the floor and took a few steps toward the bed, “Did I interrupt something, baby?” You stopped when your knees hit the edge of the mattress and crossed your arms over your chest to stare at him with an eyebrow raised.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before taking a second to swallow back the odd anxiety that seemed to rise in him. “I’m just…surprised…to see you. Why didn’t you tell me that you were coming? I- uhhh. I would’ve planned for dinner or something.” He was slowly sitting up straighter but the pillow remained in his lap. “Actually, dinner sounds great, I’m sure we can find something quick…Can you- I should grab a quick shower before we go…Will you start the water for me, babe?” You would’ve gone along with Jake’s poor attempt at a subject change had he not kept glancing at his phone, laying face down at the bottom of the bed. He watched your head turn slowly, your eyes landing on the device as you chewed on your lip, and tried to bring your attention back to him. “Hey! Danny said something about a great Mexican place not too far from here… Supposedly they have, like, award winn…ing…” His voice trailed off as you mindlessly nodded your head, your arms falling to your side.

“Uh huh…” You lunged for his phone and he tried to snatch it up before you but it was too late. Your fingers curled around it and you rolled off of the bed and scurried across the room, “What were you watching, Jake?” You illuminated the screen and typed his passcode in as he clambered out of the bed, trying desperately to tuck away the obvious tent in his tight boxers. “Everybody watches porn, Jacob. Why are you being so secretive? Is it like- OH GOD… Is it kinky shit?” You chuckled as the screen opened up to whatever he was watching and you clicked the play button.

“Babe, let me just-.” He reached for the phone but you held your finger up and twisted out of his reach.

You were speechless as you tried to comprehend what you were watching. “Oh…Oh…” Met with an image that you were quite familiar with, you glanced at Jake and back to the phone. It was the little film project that you two had made before he left and you’d almost forgotten about it until now. “Jake-.”

He cut you off, reaching for the phone again, “Okay, just shut it off.” A huff of frustration escaped him when you ducked beneath his arm and moved to the opposite side of the room. “C’mon. Would you just- turn it off, babe.” He was coming after you again, but you stayed planted in place, your eyes glued to the screen as a grin stretched over your face.

“No… I haven’t even got to watch this yet. How many times have you watched it?” You met him with an accusatory expression and he dropped his gaze to the floor. “...thought so… Let’s watch together.” You shrugged as you kicked your shoes off and climbed onto the bed, resting against the headboard. When he didn’t follow suit, you paused the video and patted the space beside you that he was occupying when you’d arrived. “Come on. We made it together, we can watch it together…Baby, come sit down and watch the fucking sex tape with me.” You whined through your giggles as you tapped the bed again.

Jake finally relented, heaving out a sigh, and climbed onto the bed to settle in alongside you. “You don’t think it’s weird to sit and watch ourselves fuck?” He took the phone from your hand and scrolled the bar the whole way to the beginning before looking at you.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, “I think you’re being weird… What was the point of making it if we weren’t gonna- Wait. Do you just…not want me to watch it? Because you obviously have… More than once.” You turned to face him completely, awaiting a response.

“I like watching you, angel…” He spoke genuinely, grasping your hand in his. “No cliche porno could ever compare to what you do. So yeah… I’ve watched it a few times.”

You could feel the heat spreading across your cheeks at his admission. “Baby….” Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his, dragging a hand along his thigh. He was leaning further into you, anticipating the path that your fingers were taking, but you stopped before they could reach his boxers and pulled back from the kiss with a teasing smirk. “Press play, Jake.” You couldn’t help but laugh as he let out a frustrated huff before complying with your request. Snuggling in closer to your boyfriend, you viewed quietly, watching yourself on the screen as you strutted towards the camera, peeling your robe off. “Wow…my tits look fucking great.” Jake had a hand resting on your leg, giving a gentle squeeze in agreement to your statement. You bit down on your lip at his dialogue in the video as you smiled up at the lens and began to stroke him, “You’re never that bold when we’re just having sex…” It was a thought that tumbled from your lips and made him turn to you.

“What does that even mean? I’m not bold?” He paused the video and put his phone on the nightstand. “I’m fucking bold… Don’t act like I don’t make you cum every time we fuck, you know I do.”

You took notice of how he began to breathe a little harder as a note of irritation radiated from him. “Baby, that’s not what I’m saying… I just mean that-.” You thought for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain what you meant, when an idea struck you. “I don’t know, Jake. I mean, yeah… The sex is always good, don’t get me wrong, but-.”

He cut you off abruptly, “But what?” He watched you bite your lips together with a shrug and he stood from the bed, “No. What the fuck were you gonna say? The sex is always good, but what?” Jake was growing more irritated with each second of silence that passed but you were keen to the stiff bulge in his boxers and decided to press a little harder.

“It’s just kind of…boring. Or- What’s the word they use? Vanilla.” It took everything in you to keep your laughter down as his eyes practically turned red. “Jake. Baby, it’s fine… I don’t need exciting sex.” You climbed off of the bed then, turning your back to him with the fear that you wouldn’t be able to keep up your act, “The way you do things is…alright…I guess.” When you turned around to look at him again, he was fuming. You had him right where you wanted him and a flood of arousal rushed to your panties at the dark expression he wore. His nostrils were flaring, chest rising and falling rapidly with angry huffs, but he remained quiet. “Uhh. I have to pee.” You offered him an innocent smile before scurrying into the bathroom and locking the door behind you. The look on his face was one that you didn’t see very often but knew very well and it made you clench your thighs together in need. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you tried to prepare for what could happen when you eventually walked out of the bathroom. Would he be angry with you and give you the silent treatment? Or… Would he try to prove you wrong? You knew Jake was nowhere near vanilla, but teasing him was always the fastest route to the best sex with him. But…did you take it too far this time?

You took one last steadying breath and unlocked the door to step out of the bathroom. With no time to register what was happening, Jake had his hand loosely wrapped around your throat with your back pinned to the wall, an amused smirk on his face at the way you gasped in surprise. “You think you’re so goddamn smart, huh?” He leaned in close, his nose pressing into your cheek as he dropped his voice to a whisper, “If you wanted me to treat you like a whore, no-… My sweet little cumslut, right?” He chuckled condescendingly as you whimpered at his degrading names, squeezing your legs tighter. “Ask nicely, angel… You don’t have to be a fucking brat to get what you want, understand?” Releasing your throat, he watched as you nodded your head obediently. “Good girl… Take your clothes off and put your palms flat on the mattress.”

Complying immediately, you shredded every piece of fabric from your body and paused to look at him, “Jake, I-.” You shut your mouth when he shook his head silently and pointed towards the bed. Making the short walk, you were vibrating with anticipation at what was about to come. You could feel Jake getting closer as you bent down, placing your palms atop the warm duvet. His hand was on your ass in an instant, ghosting up over your spine and back down to caress your thigh before settling on your lower back. Everything was still for a moment and you almost opened your mouth to question until his free hand came down hard on your asscheek. “Fuck!” You cried out, mostly from the shock of it, but there was a slight sting left in the wake of his palm.

“So you think I’m vanilla?” He was rubbing his hand up and down your inner thigh when you began to stutter out an answer, but his touch left you at loss, unable to utter a response, and that wasn’t good enough for him. Jake reeled his hand back, delivering another slap; this time to the spot he was just pampering. “Words, angel. Use them.” He paused for a moment to admire the way you began panting and shifting your weight back and forth between your feet. “Tell me again about how boring I am.”

A shiver rippled through your body as he bent down to whisper in your ear, but you managed to keep a small bit of composure. “I- I don’t know, Jake… There’s just…a lack of excitement…” You swallowed the lump in your throat and tilted your head to look at him.

“A lack of excitement, huh?” He was grinning wide as he straightened back up and exited your line of sight. “See… now I know you’re lying-” He disappeared suddenly; his touch gone, you couldn’t see him in your peripherals. Just as you began to say his name, you felt him. His large hands gripping your ass and thighs to slip a thumb through your slick folds. “-because if there’s no excitement, your pussy wouldn’t be dripping like this.” 

“Jake, please…” You weren’t entirely sure what you were pleading for but you couldn’t stop. “Please don’t tease me… I missed you so fucking much.” You were whining as you pushed back against his hands.

Jake chuckled, clearly amused at your desperation, “Needy little thing… What do you want from me, sweet girl?” His voice was saccharine sweet, tinged with a bit of something else. Mischief, maybe?

You contemplated begging on your hands and knees until a better idea struck you. “Well, baby… Prove to me just how bold you can be.”

A low growl rumbled out from behind you, the sound echoing through the room. “Yeah, I’ll fucking show you…” His hand weaved through your hair, grabbing a healthy fistful as he pulled you up from the bed. You could feel the heat emanating from him as he held your back flush against his chest to speak, “Let’s see if you can keep up, angel.” In a flash, he was shoving you back down, making sure your chest was pressed into the mattress before he released you. He knelt down behind you, spreading you open to spit directly onto you. The feeling of his spit dripping from your cunt made you shudder but he didn’t give you much time to process as he burrowed his face between your thighs. Jake’s tongue lashed rapidly at your clit before he tightened his lips around the bud.

“Jesus, Jake! Wh- Fuck…” You clawed at the fluffy, white comforter, crying out shamelessly as he devoured you. It didn’t take long for your legs to begin trembling at the way his tongue slipped through your folds and his nose nudged your entrance. You were toeing the edge of a cliff, awaiting your fall with one final push from him, “Don’t stop… Don’t you dare fucking stop, Jacob. I- Oh God, please! I’m g-. What the hell, Jake!” You whipped around to glare at him, your chest heaving and knees weak, but he was standing up from the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He was grinning wide, showcasing his perfect teeth, when you stood straight to meet him face to face. Just as you started to scold him, he gripped your jaw, smashing his lips against your own and pushing his tongue into your mouth. When he broke the kiss, he spun you back around, pressing his covered erection against your ass, “You thought I was gonna let you cum that quick? After all the shit you talked?” He cackled loud and the sound lit a new kind of fire in your blood. Jake was sure he had you at his mercy and you used that to your advantage, forcing out a weak whimper. “Awwe… don’t whine, baby… If you want something, all you have to do is tell me. Use your words. Remember?” He was sliding his boxers off as he spoke.

You could hear the smirk in his tone and that’s when you made your move. Faster than the speed of light, you whipped around, catching Jake by his throat, and flipped him onto the bed. It was clear he was caught off guard by the way he began to stammer. You pulled the boxers from his ankles before crawling over him, “What’s the matter, Jakey baby? Did you forget how to use your words?” Giggling at his scowl, you sat on his chest, keeping his arms pinned beneath your knees. “I think it was a little rude, that stunt you pulled before… Don’t you think?” You kept your voice sweet, pouting your lip at him.

“I think you deserved it.”

“Hmm… I see.” You scooted further up his torso, making sure he couldn’t wiggle his arms out from under you. “How about you make me cum with that mouth that you love to run so much…and maybe I’ll see if you deserve a reward afterwards, hmm?”

Jake cocked an eyebrow at you in challenge, “Sure, angel… Won’t take too long anyways.”

The look he was giving you made butterflies erupt in your stomach as you began to settle over his mouth, slowly lowering yourself. “If you say s- SHIT!” The second his tongue made contact with your sensitive clit, your eyes were rolling. You gripped tightly onto his hair as you started to rock against his face, “Oh- Oh fuck…” There was no doubt that he knew exactly how to use his mouth and that was evident by the way he had you quickly unraveling atop of him. You tried your hardest to hold yourself together, but Jake had managed to slip himself lower so that his tongue was prodding at your entrance. He groaned into your cunt before he began thrashing his head back and forth, his nose flicking repeatedly over your clit. “Jake, I- I’m-...” Your words trailed off into a series of moans as your legs started to shake and close around his head. He didn’t slow down in the slightest and if his hands were free, he’d have you pinned down to his mouth, making sure he got every bit of your orgasm out of you before you could move… But he wasn’t in control and once the overstimulation hit, you scrambled off of his face and sat back on his chest as you fought to catch a breath.

He rubbed his palms up and down your thighs to try to stop their trembling. The touch was so sweet and affectionate, but the moment didn’t last long. “How about you quit pretending like you’re holding the reins and let me take over again, beautiful?”

“Baby, if you want the reins, you gotta take ‘em.” You flashed him a sickeningly sweet smile and when he began to respond, you reached behind you to wrap your hand around his stiff cock. Holding eye contact with him, you started to stroke him slowly, eliciting a deep groan from the back of his throat. “I’m sorry, Jake… Were you gonna say something?” Everytime he opened his mouth, you squeezed him a little tighter to make his breath catch. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He was glaring up at you as you removed your hand to maneuver your body over his throbbing length. “And you said I love to run my mouth? You’re a goddamn tease.”

Your hand shot out to grasp his jaw, “I may be a tease, but I always give you what you want in the end, don’t I?” As your sentiment concluded, you sunk onto him; your mouth hung open and Jake subconsciously mimicked your expression as he held onto your waist. Once he was buried completely inside of you, your head dropped back, “Hmm… so fucking thick, baby…” After a moment of adjustment, you leaned down to peck his lips, catching his bottom one between your teeth with a moan and pulling before allowing it to snap back.

He stared at the point where your bodies connected as you raised slowly and dropped back down. “Ride it like you fucking own it, angel.” Jake commanded through husky breaths and the sound of his voice made you clench around him. Anchoring your hands on his chest, you took his words to heart and began bouncing, adding a slight twirl to your hips with every drop. “There you go- fuuuuck. Just like that…” He slid his hands from your waist to grab a handful of your ass before resting them at your hips.

The sound of your skin smacking together echoed off the walls, only overshadowed by Jake’s husky groans and your heavy breaths, as you rode him. You were focused on his face, the look of pure ecstasy he wore as his eyes continuously fluttered shut, “You like that, Jakey?” Slowing your movements, you opted for a change. Leaning back, you placed your hands on his thighs behind you for leverage and started to rock against him. When his mouth dropped open and he began bucking up into you, a smile formed on your face. “You like when I fuck you like this, Jake?” Your voice was sultry and low, “When I claim your fat cock like this, hmm?”

Just as you found a steady rhythm, his grasp on your hips tightened and he flipped you off of him to quickly climb over you. “Such a mouthy little whore, huh?” He moved so fast that you didn’t stand a chance in fighting for your dominance. He had your ankles on his shoulders as he leaned down, effectively pressing your knees into your chest, “You just got too goddamn cocky…” Jake slammed back into you, filling you up entirely as you cried out and grabbed blindly at his arms and clamped your eyes shut. He immediately grabbed your chin with one hand while he cupped your cheek with the other, “Nuh uh. Open those eyes and fucking look at me… I wanna make sure you know who makes you fucking cum like this, angel.” His thrusts were unrelenting, hitting the sweetest spot inside of you, and when you finally managed to pry your eyes open to stare into his large brown ones, he drew his hips back and dove back in with an impossibly deep stroke.

“J- fuck. Jaaake….” His name clambered out of your mouth in a mess of broken whimpers as your legs began to shake around his head. “Oh my God! FUCK, Jake!” Your nails dug deep into his forearms as he held your head steady and continued pounding into you, fucking you through your second climax.

“That’s it, sweet girl… Say it again. Let everyone know who makes your pussy cry, angel…” He gave a short, condescending chuckle as you breathlessly muttered his name for a third time. “That’s my good girl…” Suddenly he pulled out, letting your legs down, and turned you over onto your stomach. You were too dazed, stuck in a fucked-out fog, to question. But he slipped back into you to chase his own release, “You want me to fill this sweet cunt, pretty girl?”

You could feel your eyes going crossed as you clawed at the thick comforter beneath you, “Yes- fuck…” The pressure was building again, faster than the last two times and you began to beg, “Please, Jake… I want it, baby… Need you so fucking- bad.” Your moans were growing louder and drawing him closer to the brink.

He pressed a palm flat to your back to pin you against the mattress and fucked into you with hard, punctuated thrusts. “You want it, angel? I’ll fucking give it to you… Sounds so pretty when you beg for my cum.” His voice was strangled, groans vibrating from somewhere within his chest and you offered one last plea that sent him over the edge. Jake buried himself deep, a single ‘oh fuck’ leaving his lips before you felt him empty his sticky release inside of you, the feeling bringing you to a third and final orgasm. He was hunched over your back for a moment as he caught his breath, but when he finally pulled out, he flipped you back over and pushed your legs apart. Watching him through droopy, exhausted eyes, you heard him click his tongue a few times before he was dragging a finger over your folds, your body shivering at the contact. “Fucking begged for it and the little cumslut can’t even hold it all in… Feels a little disrespectful to waste, hmm?” He pondered to himself as he gathered his dripping seed with two fingers and pushed it back into your pussy. The overstimulation had you trying to squeeze your legs shut, but it didn’t stop him from finger fucking his cum back into you, “Aht… Almost done, angel…” When he removed his digits, he held them up to your mouth and you welcomed them happily, lapping the mix of release from them.

He finally collapsed beside you, allowing you to roll over and cuddle against him with a lazy smile, “Okay, I take it back, baby… You’re pretty fucking bold. Jesus Christ, that was…” You trailed off, giving him a soft kiss.

His hand rubbed gently up and down your back as a cocky grin began to stretch across his face. He pointed behind you, “Thank you, beautiful… but can you say that one more time to the camera?” You lifted your head to see his phone set up against the lamp on the nightstand. “Or that one…” He pointed to the dresser on the opposite side of the room where he had your phone set up to capture a different angle.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You sat up to glare at him, trying to hide your own grin.

He simply shrugged, “Now you can watch it as much as I will.” Jake wiggled his eyebrows before pulling back down for another kiss.

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lil taglist for friends i think may enjoy this😌

@ignite-my-fire @gvfpal @mybussyinchrist @ageofbajabule @klarxtr

[malum-forev]

Hi, can I request ex husband!bucky x reader with the prompt “what makes you think you can…” from the bingo card??

Hi hiii thank you sooo much for your ask! Sooo, I kind of blacked out and ended up writing something that's over 3k words long. Hope you like it! It's kind of a part 2 to this story I wrote! I thought this prompt fit perfectly! get ready for ANGST CENTRAAALLLL

“Please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up.” (Y/n) begged, hearing the third ring on her side of the phone. 

She didn’t know what to say. Hell, she didn’t know it was happening until this week! It would have gone completely unnoticed if it hadn’t been for an especially excited teacher. (Y/n)’s stomach just about dropped onto the floor as she heard her daughter’s teacher say how generous and kind Bucky was. 

Another ring, one more and I can hang up. She thought but no, nothing with Bucky was ever simple. He couldn’t not answer the phone when (Y/n) wanted. Was that too much to ask? For Bucky to read her mind?

“Hey, do-“ Bucky stopped himself, trying to mask it with a cough. He couldn’t call you that anymore, he had to remember that. “What’s up?”

“Hi, I just wanted to ask you about something but I guess you’re busy so I’ll just-“

Bucky laughed. “I’m never too busy for you.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, talk about nothing being simple. He couldn’t even make the divorce that he wanted easy!

“So, I didn’t know this happened or better yet how it happened but,” She took a deep breath. “Peanut’s school is having a gala, a fund raiser and somehow P put your name down.”

The line went silent for a couple of seconds.

“I tried to explain to the school that you would be busy and that you don’t even go to your work galas.” She tried to joke, gnawing on her bottom lip nervously.

Bucky broke the silence with a noise. “Mhm.”

“But they said that when the parents saw the school was auctioning a day with an Avenger, ticket sales went up like 200 percent.”

“Oh Peanut.” Bucky groaned. 

“I know you’re probably going to be busy,” (Y/n) said. “I just had to ask. P threatened to paint her hair blue if I didn’t give you a call.”

“She gets that from you.” Bucky’s low chuckle sent tingles through her body. 

(Y/n) leaned on the wall behind her with a deep breath, she could always count on Bucky to calm her nerves. “Sure, we can say P gets her determination and ability to blackmail from me and not her father, James ‘Bucky’ Buchanan Barnes.”

Bucky’s belly laugh warmed (Y/n)’s heart, it had been a long time since she’d heard it. 

“When’s the thing?” 

“It’s next Friday but don’t worry, we can auction off something from that old box I have in the attic. Maybe that old leather jacket-“

“Don’t you dare.” Bucky playfully growled. “Never get rid of my lucky jacket! If I remember correctly that thing is the reason I got a second date out of you.”

Her mind went to that moment in time, all those years ago. It was Bucky’s favorite but he said it looked better on her. 

“Is P going to the gala?” Bucky interrupted (Y/n)’s thoughts.

“Yeah, kids can go too.” She continued. “How about you ask Sam to submit a signed shield. The prototypes that no one uses-“

“I’ll be there.”

“What?” Her eyes just about bulged out of their sockets.

“I’ll be there.” Bucky repeated casually, like it wasn’t the first time ever he wanted to go to any of Peanut’s school events. Let alone a gala!

“You do know you’ll have to wear a tux, right?” She noted.

“You’ll be there, right?” Bucky asked. 

“Mhm.” (Y/n) brought her bottom lip in between her teeth. 

“Then I’m sure I can find one or two in the back of my closet.” Bucky smiled thinking about his options. She won’t be happy, but it’ll be worth it. He thought. 

“Oh-okay. So I guess I’ll see you next week.”

- 

(Y/n) smoothed the fabric of her dress nervously. Did Bucky forget he was supposed to be here? Was he sent on a mission at the last moment? She looked over at Peanut at the kids table, so excited that her dad was finally going to something at her school.

When she first started, some of her classmates and teachers didn’t believe she was Bucky’s daughter. (Y/n) and Bucky had chosen an extremely protected private school for the same reason, they didn’t want someone else telling P about the Winter Soldier, not before she was old enough to understand. 

After the first tear dropped from Peanut’s eyes, when she told her dad no one at school believed her, you best believe Bucky picked her up every single day. He would often take off his jacket as soon as he got to her school just so everyone would shut their mouths. No one was to make his little girl cry, ever. 

(Y/n) turned to the bar behind her and ordered a glass of champagne. 

“Do you think he’s actually going to come?” One of the women next to (Y/n) asked her friends. 

“Honey, if he does, you gals better take out a loan because that man is going home with me.” An older woman laughed into her drink.

“A recently divorced hunk? Sign me up. I don’t need the full day, just a couple of hours with him and it’ll be enough.” Another one said.

(Y/n) cringed at their words. She obviously has eyes, she knew what her ex-husband looked like but did people have to talk about him like he was just a piece of meat? 

The whole room suddenly got quiet. (Y/n) looked left and right to see what had happened and it wasn’t long until she found out. Bucky strolled into the room. 

He did not. (Y/n) thought.

Bucky was wearing the tuxedo he wore at their wedding. The black-on-black combination made him look even more mysterious than he already was. But every ounce of his dark persona disappeared once he heard the two magic words.

“Hi Daddy!” Peanut came running towards Bucky at full speed. With a small umph Bucky picked up his daughter and twirled her around. 

“Hello princess.” Bucky smiled, melting for his sweet little girl. “Why don’t you tell me where mommy is?”

Peanut pointed a chubby finger towards (Y/n) and she held up her champagne glass, the murmurs and gasps of the women next to her didn’t go unnoticed. 

Bucky placed Peanut back on the floor and set his eyes on (Y/n), it was like everything and everyone around him became blurry. He could only see her. 

“You’re late.” (Y/n) looked up at him. 

“I’m the talent, I am never late.” Bucky smiled at her, the kind of smile that made women all over the world want to drop to their knees, for various reasons. 

(Y/n) laughed, pushing Bucky away with her left hand. Bucky took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing the spot on her third finger where her ring used to sit.  

“You look radiant.” Bucky came closer to (Y/n) placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth. 

She took in his intoxicating smell, it had been forever since she’d been this close to him. (Y/n) took a deep breath, the memories coming to life again. But before she could get lost in the past, the present came into view. 

(Y/n) cleared her throat and took a step back before turning to the women gawking next to them. “Ladies, may I introduced you to my ex-husband, James?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes and turned to them, a forced smile playing on his lips.

(Y/n) slipped from the group with a light laugh and sat down at her table, the auction about to start. 

It wasn’t long before Bucky’s category came up, women desperate to cheat on their husbands without actually doing it. (Y/n) smiled cheekily as she saw Bucky fidget on the stage, the bright lights made him feel like he was a show horse. 

“Mr. Barnes was kind enough to auction a day with an Avenger, the winner of this would spend the day at the Avengers Compound and meet some of the people responsible for our safety!” Peanut’s principal spoke into the microphone.

“I can’t assure a tour of the compound.” Bucky’s raspy voice said through the speakers. 

“We’ll see the details later.” The principal waved him off. “How about we start the bidding at four hundred dollars?”

“Five hundred.” A woman way too old to be with Bucky, and that’s taking into consideration that he’s over a hundred years old, raised her bid card. 

“Six hundred.” Another woman said. 

“Seven hundred.” A third spoke.

Bucky’s eyes kept getting bigger and bigger, he hadn’t considered the fact that women would actually bid to be with him. He turned to (Y/n) with pleading eyes.

“Mommy, aren’t you gonna bid on daddy?” P asked her. 

“Honey-“ (Y/n) was about to explain how for some people spending a day with her Dad would be the experience of a lifetime, when one of the women she heard speaking so vulgarly about Bucky raised her card. 

“One thousand dollars.” The woman had a smug look on her face. 

“Going once-“ The principal said. 

“Mommy do something.” Peanut whispered. 

“Going twice.” Bucky threw his head back. Fuuck. He thought. 

“Go-“

“Two thousand dollars.” (Y/n) raised her card. 

Bucky’s head snapped forward at the sound of her voice. His scowl turned into a smile. 

“Sold, to the lady in the back.” The principal’s eyes just about turned into dollar signs.

- 

“I didn’t get the chance to thank you.” Bucky whispered, hiking Peanut’s body up. At some point in the night she had fallen asleep and now her father was carrying her to (Y/n)’s car. 

(Y/n) waved her hand. “It was nothing. I couldn’t let you spend a day with that hornets’ nest. She would’ve eaten you alive. 

“Still- thank you.” Bucky’s kind eyes were one of the first things that drew (Y/n) to him, the same shade he now shared with his daughter.  

(Y/n) unlocked her car so he could strap Peanut in. 

“So, when should I pick you up?” Bucky opened (Y/n)’s door so she could get in. 

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, about the auction thing. You don’t have to do that, I’m sure you’re going to be busy.”

“How’s next Thursday at 8 sound? We can take P to school and I’ll give you an extremely memorable ‘Day with an Avenger’.” Bucky’s smooth words coated her heart.

“I’ve already had a couple of ‘Days with an Avenger’ and they haven’t been that memorable.” She teased.

“I can think of a couple of memorable days where you would beg-“

(Y/n) clamped her hand over Bucky’s mouth. “You can’t say that!”

“Would I be lying?” Bucky’s muffled voice said proudly.

“I’ll see you next Thursday.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes with a smile. “Please don’t be late.”

“Promise.”

-

The doorbell rang at 7:50 am on Thursday. 

“Be careful Peanut!” (Y/n) yelled as she opened the door. “Don’t fall from the stool! I don’t really feel like visiting the hospital right now.”

She huffed as she opened the door. Mornings were always chaotic but now, without another pair of helping hands it felt impossible. But here he was. 

Bucky stood at the other side of the door, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. A bouquet of her favorite flowers on one hand and balancing two coffees on the other. 

“Good morning.” Bucky placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “Need help with anything?”

(Y/n) stepped aside with her jaw on the floor, letting Bucky come inside. 

“Hiya Daddy!” Peanut beamed, shoving another forkful of French toast in her mouth. 

“How’s my number one girl doing this morning?” Bucky asked, placing a kiss on the top of her head. 

(Y/n) stepped into the kitchen, feeling like she’d walked into another dimension. 

“Sorry doll, you’ve been bumped down to the number two spot.” Bucky winked at (Y/n) and her eyebrows shot up. “You still keep the vases on the top cupboard?” 

(Y/n) slowly nodded, the shocked expression never left her. 

Definitely an alternate dimension, it’s the only explanation. She thought. 

Drop off was perfect and the ride to the compound was actually pleasant. 

“You got a new car.” (Y/n) hummed, looking around Bucky’s new SUV. 

He nodded proudly. “I can’t ride around on a bike forever. Plus, you asked me to get a car.”

“I asked you to get a car over a year ago.” She snorted. 

Bucky shrugged, the relaxed smile on his lips never faltered. “Took me a while but I got it.”

(Y/n) eyed her ex-husband curiously. Fresh haircut, cologne, pressed t-shirt. New car, more present. Something changed. “Okay, who is she?”

“Who’s who?” Bucky’s forehead creased.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “I’m not a child, you can tell me who she is.”

“If you’re trying to say I’m dating someone, I’m not.” Bucky looked a little offended.

“I never said anything about dating.” (Y/n) laughed. “You can get some without making it official.”

“I’m not doing that either.” Bucky grumbled, his grip on the steering wheel made his knuckles white.

“I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t know you not getting any was a sore subject.” She held her hands up in surrender and laughed. “You do know you can do that right? I’m pretty sure the papers we signed mean that we’re no longer together, meaning you can have se-“

Bucky’s groan interrupted her, he ran his palm through his face. “Can we not talk about my sex life please? I actually have a nice day planned, and it doesn’t include this topic of conversation.”

“You. Have a day planned.” She emphasized the words. 

“Please feel free make me sound more like an asshole.” Bucky chuckled. 

And what a day did he have planned. 

It started by taking her to the newly renovated Avengers Museum on the compound. Bucky showed (Y/n) a few never before seen pictures of himself from the 40’s. 

“The investigators dug these up.” He smiled. 

“You were a baby!” She laughed, posing for a picture next to the blown-up print of him.

“You think Peanut will look like me when she’s a little bit older?” Bucky came up behind her, resting his head on hers and tossing his arms over her shoulders. 

(Y/n) relaxed into his body. “You want her to look more like you? She’s basically your twin.” 

His laugh made her whole body vibrate. “What can I say? We should have tried to get a boy after P, maybe he would look like you.”

Afterwards came a late lunch by the lake followed by a tour of the new wing dedicated to Steve Rogers. Bucky had thought of everything. He asked Sam to pick up Peanut from school and make sure she did her homework, took a bath and brushed her teeth before going to bed. 

The sun was setting as Bucky drove (Y/n) home, he rested his hand on the center console hoping she would take it. It wasn’t long until she intertwined their fingers. 

Bucky opened her side of the door and helped her down. (Y/n) leaned on his car. 

“Thank you for a lovely day.” She smiled. “Don’t know if it was worth 2k but, I had an amazing time.”

Bucky fake gasped, clutching the left side of his chest. “You don’t think I’m worth two thousand measly dollars?”

“Some of us actually have to work to get two thousand dollars, not just pose around and look cute.” She bit the inside of her cheek to stop a smile from forming.

Bucky stepped closer to her. “Well I would pay you way more than that to pose around for me. You already have the cute thing down to a T.”

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, dragging his knuckles against her cheek and stopping at her lips. Bucky pulled her closer to him and placed his lips on hers. At first it was soft but once his brain registered what was happening, it turned dark and hungry. It was like he was running out of oxygen and the only thing that could breathe life into him was her kiss. 

With a gasp, she pushed him away.

“What are you doing?” (Y/n) asked breathlessly, bringing her fingers to her throbbing lips. 

“(Y/n), please.” Bucky sighed. “I want you, I need you. And I’m not talking about stupid sex, I’m talking about you. Talking to you every day, telling me off for things I do or don’t do, I want us. Together.”

Her eyebrows creased, she felt her body heat up with rage. “What makes you think you can kiss me like that? Like nothing’s ever happened. Like you’ve forgotten we’re not together anymore.”

“Please.” Bucky’s crystal blue eyes reddened. “Do you want me to get on my knees? Because I’ll do it. I’m begging you, please take me back. I want to be with you, forever.”

(Y/n) sniffled, tears of her own threatening to fall. “I’m not falling for this, not again. I’m about to finish mending my broken heart, I’ve just finished putting the pieces back together and for you to come here and-“

“I’m trying-“ Bucky cried. “I’m really trying to show you that I’ve changed.”

(Y/n) let out a dry laugh. “Does going to one gala and buying a car mean you’ve changed? I asked you to buy that thing for a whole year and you never even thought about it.”  

“But I’m doing it now, does that mean anything?” Bucky asked with saddened eyes.

“Yes, it means that you only want me because you can’t have me.”

“That’s not-“ He tried to argue but she turned towards her door. 

“Thank you for the nice day James but, I have to go to my real life. The one in which we’re still divorced and you have to leave for some undisclosed amount of time to a classified location. Do you remember? Your reallife.” (Y/n) opened her front door, thanking Sam for taking care of Peanut. 

Bucky was left on the driveway with tears running down his cheek. 

Part 3 here!

Hi hii! I've tagged everyone who commented Pt2 on my first fic and reblogged! <3 Hope you guys like it, if you do remember to like reblog and comment! I'll love you forever if you do <3

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour @aimeekatee @learisa @deadspeed @happinessinthebeing @multitargaryen @ajordan2020 @almosttoopizza @empollito @jbbarnesgirl. @uniquecroissant @mavrellover91 @angstysebfan @buckswhore-com @coffeebooksandfandom @azenpal @stanofmanythingslol @msknb-blog @intrepidacious @ladyloki3 @buck-fics @honeyglee @vileepponine @sebstanwhore @helium-queen @lokislady82 @crazygirlinthisworld @superforgottensoul @bibbidibobbidibucky @mdc-203081

Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

[metalheadsforblacklivesmatter]

I totally did not miss a day of disability awareness month because I accidentally skipped a day when scheduling my posts. And if you think I did... that's ableist...

Today's Disability Awareness Month post

Time blindness

What is it?

It's a complete inability to accurately measure time. That internal clock that says it's been 5 minutes? Yeah, that no works.

Cool. How can I know I have it? Because I don't really think anyone can accurately tell when 5 minutes have gone by

So a few years ago. I fell hard. Dislocated my shoulder. After a few days, I'm like "Yo. My shoulder been hurting too long after this bad fall. I should see my doctor about that". The doctor asked how long it had been. I told him 5 days... in my defense I really thought it had been 5 days... I texted my friend to confirm.... it had been 5 weeks...

Wow. That sucks. So like how do you manage that?

So like. I try to frame of reference based on what was going on around that time. Like "When did that truck randomly park in front of the house?" Well I remember being really worried about fireworks hitting it during 4th of July. So it's at least been that lot. And I know it wasn't there the week before because my friend would've definitely bitched about it being in the way. So that gives me a frame of reference of about 5 days.

So like you're talking about remembering time on past events. But you also mentioned being unable to tell when 5 minutes have gone by

Absolutely. Time blindness both impacts "I don't remember how long ago this event happened" as well as "I can't tell when 2 hours have gone by and I need my lunch break".

Another way I experience time blindness is meetings. I have a reminder at work that'll be like "meeting in 15 minutes". And I'll be actively trying to keep that in the front of my brain while I'm trying to get some last minute things done. Like "meeting in 15 minutes. Meeting in 15 minutes." Then next thing I know 2 hours have gone by 😅 and I'm like "when did that happen?"

Sounds like you're looking for an excuse to be lazy and inconsiderate of others time

No. There's actually ways you can manage your time blindness. I have an alarm for literally every. Single. Thing. In my life. I have an alarm when I should be taking lunch. When I need to go to bed. If I have a doctor appointment I'll have an alarm for when I need to make sure I have my paperwork (I aim for 2 days before). An alarm to make sure I have my insurance card (the day before). An alarm to start getting ready to leave. And an alarm to be heading out the door. Lots of alarms. Lots of reminders.

Sounds like you need a planner

See... time blindness is associated with ADHD... so that planner... do you want to see the pile of unused planners that I bought then completely forgot I had? If that planner isn't right in front of my nose as all times or screaming at me. I'll forget it exists. That's why I like alarms. They scream at me.

Cool. But I also have this thing where I can't tell how long a task will take

Fun fact. That is also time blindness. I'll be like "Cool. I'm just gonna wash the dishes real quick before I go. Should take 30 seconds..." *15 minutes later*

Time blindness makes it really hard to plan your day because you don't know how much time it'll take to do shit. One time I was like "I'll put this shelf together real quick after work". Real quick took 2 hours. How the fuck am I supposed to plan out my day if I can't figure out how long it'll take to wash dishes or put a shelf together?

-fae

[lalal-99]

of the big city {h.j.} | track 2

©March 2023, February 2024 by lalal-99

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 6.9k

Synopsis: The one where uni starts and you meet some interesting people.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: The next chapters are gonna be much shorter, I promise. The overwork is going smoothly so far, I have the next chapter ready and will probably post beginning of next week. I also wrote two whole new chapters this week which I'm very proud of. I really hope I can finish this story this time around :)

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

“Baby? Do you have some paper for me?”

With an annoyed eye roll you ripped a page from your new notebook, smoothing over the edges of the torn binder. You pushed the single page over towards him with reluctance.

“You forgot your notebook on the first day already?”

And to think notebooks and pens were the main reason you had gone to the store yesterday.

“Don’t blame me. You know I’m not a morning person. And you didn’t want to wake me up with sex, so...” The smugness in his voice made you wonder if he actually thought he had won this discussion. You raised your eyebrows at him, hinting at the thinness the metaphorical ice on which he was walking.

You usually didn’t get annoyed that easy. If you had, your relationship sure as hell wouldn’t have lasted this long. The reason: Jisung and his lack of understanding social cues. To take the hint and not bother you any further when you were already frustrated, all it took was a look.

Although he wasn’t the reason for your irritation today. Or at least not the sole one.

It was the first day of university, so naturally, you were a little on edge. Whatever happened from this day on would decide over the paths your life took in the future. It was a step you had waited so long to take but dreaded all the same. Jisung, as your loving boyfriend, should have known how much this meant to you.

Sometimes, you speculated if he did it on purpose. Rile you up when you were anxious to give you something to put your focus on instead. His intentions might have been sweet, but this wasn’t taking any tension off your shoulders. Jisung forgetting his notebook and blaming you for it, even as a joke, could have likely been the last straw.

“Baby?” As you looked back at him, you noticed his cute pout. It was almost cute enough to make you forget what you had been so annoyed about a minute earlier. “Do you also have a spare pen? And some highlighters would be nice, too.”

Shaking your head at Jisung, you let out a snort. So he hadn’t forgotten just his notebook, but his pen and highlighter too? Got it. Very unwillingly, you handed him the items. You thankfully always had a spear set in case of emergency. Or, in this case, your boyfriend’s scatterbrain you had been dealing with for many years already.

“You have got to be kidding me.” He blew you a playful kiss, thanking you for your service. “Don’t let this become a habit. I’m not piggybacking you through university as I did in High School. Understood?”

As much as you loved him, Jisung had his fair share of annoyances. Like his living-in-the-moment type of attitude. A contrast to your thoroughly organised persona, you usually appreciated your differences. Without his Yin, your Yang wouldn’t shine as bright and vice versa.

That still didn’t change that you wouldn’t be his personal secretary this time around.

Jisung was old enough to care for himself and not rely on his girlfriend for every one of his needs. Whether it was some paper and pens, your skillfully crafted cue cards, or an all-nighter before one of his final exams. How ever you had talked him into studying for that one anyways.

“I love you, too.”

If he only weren’t so damn cute.

Out of pure principle you ignored his comment with an unintentional snicker. You continued your draft outline on your first notebook page—your attempt of getting a head start on future lecture notes—thus almost missing the voice chatting up Jisung.

“I’m taking you won’t be sleeping in the dorm a lot, will you?”

The depth of the second voice made you look up from your notebook. As the light shone into the room from behind the boy, it almost blinded you. Once your eyes got used to the brightness, you could finally make out a lean figure. He set a reusable coffee cup on the desk next to Jisung before sliding onto the wooden chair.

The boy was clad in comfortable attire, loose hanging jeans paired with a simple t-shirt. His long, blonde hair messily framed his face, a green beanie rounding off his skater-boy look. Something told you he had more to himself than what his cover showed. The several silver rings on his fingers could have been the reason for your suspicion. Or it was how he carried himself—a perfect line leading from his soles to the tip of his head. In exact contradiction to your boyfriend’s slouching posture.

“Morning to you too, sunshine.” The smirk in Jisung’s tone indicated his playfulness and a sense of closeness. “Why do you care? You’re not in love with me, are you?”

“No,” the boy scoffed, his bag placed neatly under the table. “I just wondered if I can stop waiting up for you or if I will have to identify your corpse at some point.”

Looking past Jisung, the boy noticed your presence, sending you a heart-warming smile. The freckles all over his nose and cheeks juxtaposed the darkness of his voice and over-all looks. Something about his aura relaxed you, his company drenching his atmosphere in happiness.

“Hi, I’m Felix!”

“I’m Y/N. I’m Jisung’s-”

“Girlfriend. Yeah, I know. He talks about you a lot.”

Jisung leaned in closer to you, though he kept his voice at the same volume, “Be careful, baby. He’s very much in love with me already. I might leave you for him.”

“You can have him.” You leaned past your boyfriend, directly addressing Felix. “But make sure to always have a spare pen and paper. And also a spare pair of pants.” The scene from earlier this morning came back to mind, a teasing look creeping onto your face. “He might say he can care for himself, but he will wear your leggings and pink baby-girl crop top when there’s no alternative.”

“Good to know,” Felix replied with a deep chuckle, amused by the picture you had painted. He ran his hands through his blonde hair, showing off his ears and all the piercings. Okay, so, definitely not a skater-boy-type.

“You might be joking now.” Jisung threw a know-all look in your direction. “But you won’t be laughing when I wear your fishnets to your grandpa’s next birthday.”

“Don’t you dare put on my fishnets! They were expensive.”

“That’s alright. We’re about the same size, so he can wear mine.” Felix’s words came unexpected and not even Jisung couldn’t conceal his amusement.

“Great, there’s two of you now. Is it too late to drop out?”

In all the years you had known him, Jisung rarely ever made friends this easy. Not even a week on campus, and he had gotten close enough to Felix to joke in his usual manner. How they had even gotten this close when Jisung had spent most of the day at your place was a mystery to you. Still, the little time they had spent together was enough to have discovered a mutual hobby—catching Pokémon. As they argued over who had found the rarest creature, you picked up your previous task. Though that didn’t stop your joy in finding that Jisung had made a friend. And a nice one at that.

You felt guilty for even thinking it, but Jisung had never been particularly good at making friends. Not before meeting you and not afterwards either.

Most of all, you blamed the lack of a ‘do not say’-filter in his conversational skills. His openness posed an obstacle to making new acquaintances—or at least it had many times before. After years of getting side-eyed or complained about, he had stopped talking to new people all together. Like he already expected the sole attempt to make connection to backfire. The few relationships he had formed despite his shyness had been pure luck. And your very own relationship only existed due to your perseverance.

That Jisung had already befriended Felix, at least as much as possible in three days, put you in a bright mood. One of your biggest fears about moving was your boyfriend rooming with someone he didn’t get along with. With someone as talkative and easily compatible as Felix, Jisung would likely not be clinging to you as much. Which wouldn’t have been the worst scenario, but still.

With every passing minute the lecture hall filled more. When something sharp scratched your shin, your head finally snapped towards one of the new-comers. A blonde girl had sat down next to you, and you found the culprit when you noticed her pink heels.

“Oh my God. Did I hit you? I’m so sorry.” Her hand came to her mouth in shock as she apologised a couple of times. You rubbed over the sensitive skin which was already bruising from when you had hit that crate of boxes yesterday. Talk about unfortunate accidents. You pushed the urge to groan at the pain down, forcing a smile onto your face instead. “It’s those dang heels. I knew I should have worn the sneakers today.”

“It’s fine. Surprised me, that’s all.” Embarrassment reached over her cheeks to her ears, a frown painting her face. “No worries.”

For a few seconds she hesitated but finally accepted your willingness to let it go. Out of the corner of your eye, you followed her as she unloaded the contents of her purse. She pulled out a torn notepad and a vintage-leather pencil case, which must have seen better days. She reached back into her designer bag, face distraught as her search came up empty.

She tried grabbing the attention of two boys on her right side, tied deep into their conversation. When she eventually realised she had no other option, her gaze tiptoed towards you. “Sorry to bother you again.” Teeth nibbling at her lip, she forced herself to get over her embarrassing mistake seconds earlier. “Do you have a pen I can borrow?”

Even if your shin had hurt worse, you would have still helped her out. With a genuine smile, you nodded, searching your pencil case and then your bag.

“I wanted to grab one before leaving my room, but I noticed a stain on my shirt and needed to change it. So, I forgot about the pen,” the girl recounted her morning ventures. “I’m so sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you assured her. Your smile turned to an apologetic scowl once you realised you couldn’t help her out after all. “I’m sorry. I always carry at least one extra pen, but scatterbrain next to me left his head in bed this morning.”

“You talking ‘bout me?”

Jisung, who you hadn’t expected to react to the mention of his unflattering nickname, turned to you.

“Hey, Felix,” you called the boy two seats from yours, ignoring your boyfriend. “Do you happen to have a spare pen?”

“Sure. I always carry an extra one in case.”

“Interesting. So, some people do use their heads before leaving the house.” It was a reproachful remark addressed to Jisung and his forgetfulness, and he caught the meaning.

“Some people do use their heads before leaving the house,” he scrunched his nose, teasing you by mimicking your voice and repeating your previous words as you snickered. Your perfect boyfriend, everyone.

Felix handed the pen from his jacket past you, the girl accepting it with a thankful smile.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“I usually go by Felix. But lifesaver is good, too.”

The girl giggled, before introducing herself, “I’m Yuqi. I live in the student housing off campus. You know, the ones next to that coffee shop with the green doors. It’s open 24/7. Genius marketing move, right?” Biting her lip after that info dump, you noticed her nose doing a little scrunch. “Sorry. I talk a lot.”

“I haven’t noticed,” Jisung joked, your elbow gracing his rib at his sarcasm. You wondered if there would ever come a day you didn’t have to act as his personalised filter.

“Don’t listen to the idiot next to me,” you declared, “I find it charming.”

“Me, too,” Felix agreed, and Yuqi relaxed. It told you that she usually didn’t get that reaction when spraying words like a waterfall.

“I live in the same building.”

Excitement took over her features. “What? No way! Which room?”

“B4.”

Yuqi shrieked, her hand touching your arm, “I’m B12! That makes us floormates.”

“I guess it does.” Yuqi was the first person you met who lived in the same building that wasn’t your roommate or her girlfriend. “I’m Y/N. And this,” you thumbed back at your boyfriend, “this is Jisung.”

“Hi,” he greeted her with an awkward wave.

“Nice to meet you all.”

With that, Yuqi picked up her purse, pulling out an old folder. Well, it appeared to be rather new, but the edges were already torn, some of the plastic cover coming off the corners. The latter especially gave you an ick, and you forcefully pushed down the urge to smooth over them. You could handle some chaos, even if this was a lot.

Good thing, Yuqi spoke up again, giving something different to concentrate on.

“What’s your major?”

“I’m doing Business Admin.” Before you could return the question, Yuqi already reacted, hand touching your biceps in excitement.

“No freakin’ way! I’m in Marketing.” The delight in her voice was addictive as you couldn’t help a grin pulling on your lips. “See, I even wore the perfect outfit for our first lecture later today.”

Yuqi leaned back, giving you a better look at her clothing.

She was in a pair of white jeans, a rosé-coloured blouse adorning the upper half of her lean figure. A single, thin gold necklace decorated her neckline, fitting the two golden earrings. The one thing that stood out in that well-rounded outfit was her other earrings. About a dozen of them decorated both ears from the dainty top to the slim bottom. To round the fit off, she wore a pair of light-pink high heels. The very same that had already made acquaintance with your shin.

“Pretty, right?”

“Very girlboss,” you agreed in earnest. Your own clothes contrasted her colourful optics, made up of mostly black items.

“I’m so glad I’m not the only girl in the classes.” There was a hint of playful disgust in her statement, making you chuckle. “All the other people I met who are in Business were boys. Not that boys are bad or anything. I love boys. But they can be—a lot.”

“I get it. I lived with three boys back home. Well, technically, my dad is a man,” you air-quoted, “but where’s the difference, right?” Yuqi chuckled. “It’s nice to have a girl around every once in a while.”

Yuqi reached for her coffee cup as her gaze wandered to the grey haired middle-aged man who entered the room. He walked up to the desk at the end of the hall, his briefcase landing on the table with a loud thud.

With that, you straightened up, pen in hand and ready to take notes the second your prof opened his mouth.

05:23 PM: Hey, are you studying in the dorm tonight?—Y/N 05:25 PM: No. The place is all yours :)—Hwasa 05:25 PM: Is lover boy coming over again ;)—Hwasa 05:26 PM: He’s hanging out with his roommate tonight... Bonding. I’m thinking about inviting a friend over. I met her at orientation earlier this week—Y/N 05:27 PM: Sounds fun—Hwasa 05:27 PM: Anything special planned?—Hwasa 05:27 PM: Not yet. Maybe eat something and a movie? Explore the city?—Y/N 05:28 PM: You wanna explore this bar Joey’s? I’m meeting some friends there later. Happy Hour starts at 8—Hwasa 05:29 PM: You sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude—Y/N 05:29 PM: I told you I’d be taking you out one of these days—Hwasa 05:30 PM: Texting you the address right now!—Hwasa

Stepping through the dark wooden doors, a wall of warmth hit you like a thick blanket.

It had gotten colder the past few days, fall beginning to hit the city. You took off your scarf, looking around the place in search of the familiar, pretty face.

This place seemed to be the city’s hotspot, every table packed to full capacity. Red velveteen clad the round tables right by the entrance, the seating options becoming wider once you reached the back. Couches fanned out in random patterns all over the dark oak floor. The furniture’s vintage finish further accented the brown parquet.

You felt like you had stepped straight into a movie scene.

The wave of a dainty hand over the crowd’s heads caught your attention as you spotted your roommate in the back. You grabbed Yuqi by the hem of her sleeve, dragging her behind you as you made your way to the group of girls with a smile.

“Hello,” you greeted the table once you had gotten close enough for them to see you.

Hwasa hugged you in bliss, almost tipping over the drink in front of her, “Hi! I’m so glad you could make it.” As she noticed Yuqi, she pulled her in for another warm embrace, “Nice to meet you! I’m Hwasa.”

“Yuqi,” your friend replied, joy written on her face at the enthusiastic welcome.

Knowing Hwasa and her usual calm persona, you knew she must have already taken full advantage of Happy Hour.

“Nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself to the two unfamiliar faces, sending Wheein a quick nod as she met it with a smile.

The two girls with your roommate and her girlfriend couldn’t have been much older than them. The first had straight black hair reaching the bottom of her back, at least from what you could tell. The other sported a short grey bob. It highlighted her sharp jaw in what you could only describe as a tomboy-ish look. Like Wheein and Hwasa, they were beautiful and made you somewhat self-conscious. You shouldn’t have come here unprepared, or put on mascara, at least.

First to introduce herself was the black-haired girl, her smile almost blinding you. “Hi, I’m Solar.”

An extraordinary name for an extraordinary beautiful person. Fitting. In your mind, there was no doubt she made people of any gender fall in love with her the moment she stepped into a room. Her calm, almost carefree aura was truly something else.

“And I’m Byul.” She was just as pretty, though in a less traditional sense. A boyish charm surrounded her, though her blazer hinted at a seriousness to her person. She looked—important.

You introduced yourself and Yuqi, pulling out the two remaining chairs. They must have fought off several people to reserve these. “Are you students, too?”

“We used to be,” Solar explained as she emptied her tulip-coloured drink.

The girls seemed to have stocked up on various drinks; more glasses than people were at the table. If the drinks were half as good as they looked, you’d be in for a long night.

“We graduated last year,” the black-haired beauty continued, bumping shoulders with Hwasa. “I used to be Hwasa’s roommate, actually.”

“I didn’t even notice!” Hwasa giggled, thus proving your assumption about the amount of alcohol consumed before your arrival. “She’s my ex, and you’re my next.”

You chuckled in amusement, reaching for the menu at the edge of the table. The faux leather was soft beneath your fingertips as you skimmed over the Happy Hour options. When your eyes landed on your favourite drink, a smile spread on your lips as you handed the menu over to Yuqi.

“They have Long Island Ice Tea in three different flavours?” Yuqi exclaimed, the scenic buzz of this place rubbing off on her. Not that she wasn’t this emotional about almost anything. “Would it be very immature to try them all tonight?”

“Not at all. I am browsing through the new offers myself. We can get drunk together.”

Not a fair fight. Hwasa had already gotten a head start.

You called over the waiter by raising your hand, and he headed for your table not a minute later. He raised an unintentional eyebrow at the consumption level—One Mojito, three Long Island Ice Teas and another Piña Colada and Gin Tonic. Even so, the boy sent you a smile, spinning around and wandering back to the bar.

Once he was gone, Hwasa swiftly emptied her previous drink. All it took was one strong sip through her straw, and the Tonic and ice was gone. The coldness reached her brain soon after, prompting her eyes to grow wider—like those of a comic-book figure.

“Babe, you should slow down,” Wheein suggested with a chuckle. But her girlfriend waved her off.

“I’m fine. Also, I don’t have any courses tomorrow, so I have the whole day to sleep off that hangover I’ll be having.”

“Great. I’ll remind you when you’re hugging the toilet seat later.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Mhm.” Wheein didn’t seem uber-convinced Hwasa would keep her promise but let it go anyways.

As the girls went back to their previous conversation, you tried your best to follow them.

You understood that Solar was passed over for a big promotion at her job and that she was convinced, her boss was sleeping with her opponent.

“What do you do for work?” Yuqi’s question took the words right out of your mouth.

“I am an assistant buyer at a small fashion label,” Solar explained, making you look at Hwasa in surprise.

“Don’t you also study fashion?” Taking a sip from her already empty glass, she nodded in silence. You frowned when you noticed her uncomfortable look at Wheein following your words. There must have been some form of backstory, and the last thing you wanted was to make things awkward. Instead you attempted correcting your mistake. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

Passing a few glances around the table, Byul finally spoke up. “Our cutie Hwasa here used to study Chemistry full-time. She developed a small crush on Solar in her second year, so, she changed majors to spend more time with her.”

It took a moment to dawn on you why Wheein and Hwasa had reacted the way they did.

“Yes, but I hadn’t met my love then.” Hwasa bobbed her girlfriend’s nose, pouting to cheer her up. After a few seconds, Wheein couldn’t stop her frown from turning into a giggle. They were just the cutest.

“You’re a little drunk, aren’t you?”

“Drunk of love!”

“I stand corrected. You’re absolutely hammered.”

Playfully nudging her girlfriend, Wheein relaxed, emptying her own drink. Non-alcoholic, from what you had gathered.

“Anyways, since Solar is into boys only—”

“Men,” Solar interrupted her friend with a sigh. “I stopped dating boys a long time ago. They never know where to put things.”

“Sorry, since Solar is into men only,” Byul corrected, her eyes meeting yours again, “that didn’t work out. Now Hwasa is stuck with fashion. She met Wheein not too long after.”

“That’s right!”

The enthusiasm in her reaction made Hwasa finally tip over her glass. The melted ice cubes went all over the table, the cool liquid running down the sides. Some of it landed on your jeans, so while Hwasa apologised profusely, you called over the waiter a second time in five minutes.

A moment later, the young man rushed over with your drinks, handing you a towel to dry yourself. It didn’t go by you that his gaze focused on you for a few extra beats, but you ignored it. Your returned the now moist towel with kindness and he left with a light blush.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that.” Solar’s caught your attention by the touch of her hand as she nodded towards the waiter.

“Notice what?”

“That the waiter was flirting with you,” she explained, looking around the table. “You noticed too, didn’t you?”

Byul agreed, “Sure did.”

“You’re not one of those girls who are, like, super slow on cues, right?” You chuckled at her question, shaking your head.

“No, I noticed, too.”

The confusion on the beauty’s face made you chuckle a little. “So what, then? He’s cute. Get his number.”

“Nah, I’m good.” You waived her off, taking a sip from your fresh drink. The rum burned down your throat, the lime juice and sugar adding a bittersweet taste to it. “Also, I don’t think my boyfriend would be particularly happy with me asking other men for their number.”

If everyone’s focus hadn’t been on you already, it sure was now.

“You have a boyfriend?”

“Very much so, yes.”

Solar seemed surprised by the information.

“Is it serious? I mean, you obviously shouldn’t cheat on him. But you are at university. If you don’t explore and get to know yourself now, when will you get another chance?”

You took another sip to ease the discomfort from being the center of attention. Not exactly where you usually were. “We’ve been together for five years. I’d say that’s pretty serious.” That did the trick, her mouth now agape in shock. She leaned in closer to you, cradling her chin in her palm.

“Five years? So, you’re High School Sweet Hearts?”

“Middle School, actually.”

“Is he any hot?” Yuqi interrupted, also leaning in further. How your relationship had become the talk of the whole table had gone right by you.

“What do you mean? You met him at orientation. He sat right next to me.”

“No way! That’s your boyfriend?” You hummed, agreeing. “But you called him dumbass like 5 times in one hour.”

“I did, but it’s more a term of endearment. I call Jisung dumbass; he calls me stupid. It’s a whole thing.”

As soon as you had cleared that up, Solar was back at it, hitting you with question after question.

“Wait, but like, for real. You’ve never been with anyone else since Middle School?”

You shook your head, correcting her statement. “I’ve never been with anyone else ever.”

Usually, you never talked about yourself and your relationship this much. You were rather private in that sense, though, you also understood their curiosity. It wasn’t every day that you met someone who had been with the same person since they were 14. You understood the length of your relationship was uncommon for someone your age.

“So, he’s your first boyfriend?”

“Yup.”

“So, you never kissed anyone else? Had sex with anyone else?” Byul further interrogated, now also fully invested in your love life. That you had only met the girls maybe 20 minutes ago seemed irrelevant. Not like you hadn’t seen that question coming sooner or later.

You agreed with a nod. “I never wanted anyone else.”

“How do you even maintain a relationship for that long?” Yuqi budded in again, her focus different from the older women’s. “My longest relationship lasted 4 months, and then I got tired of him.” For some reason, her statement made so much sense to you. Yuqi definitely needed constant excitement to fill her heart. “What’s your secret.”

You thought about it before answering shortly, “Shared trauma, maybe?” When no one laughed at your words, you backtracked. Your honesty might have been too much for them after all. “That was a joke. Obviously. We have a lot in common and went through similar stuff in life.”

It became quiet for a few seconds, though you sensed that Solar was holding back. Whatever she might have had dancing on the tip of her tongue, she took her sweet time wording it in her pretty head.

“Please, don’t take this the wrong way.” Always a great way to start a sentence. “If the shoe fits, tie that bitch up. But you’re in college now. This is your time to explore your interests—your options. No one comes out of college the way they go in. It’s a life-changing experience.”

“So, I should cheat on my boyfriend, is what you’re saying?” You started getting a little defensive now that your love life appeared to be under attack. All the attention got uncomfortable as much as you understood where it was coming from.

“That’s not what I was saying at all.” Some of the tension fell from your shoulders. “I’m saying people change. So, don’t be surprised if your boyfriend and you don’t work out.” Still not the direction you wanted this conversation to go. But Solar continued anyway. “Take Byul, for example.”

Solar leaned back, her hand coming to her friend’s shoulder.

“Byul started college, wanting to become a lawyer.” Byul nodded, agreeing. Her blazer somehow made more sense now. “She finished her degree and opened her own music production studio not two months later. And Hwasa—” With that, Solar went on to your roommate, who threw her a playful wink. “The first year of college, she cycled between so many partners, we were certain, she’d end up pregnant or with an STD. And look at her now.”

From how lovingly Hwasa was gazing at Wheein, there was no doubt in your mind that she had happily moved on from those days.

“And when Wheein started college,” Solar continued her list, “she was straight as a ruler. Do you see what I’m saying?”

“I do.”

And it was the truth. You understood that most people used college to find their path in life. The women around you were the best example for it. All four of them had found their place in the world, who they wanted to be, through university. You didn’t doubt that whatever had happened to them was necessary for them to grow into the women they were today.

At the same time, you knew your life better than anyone else at this table. You remembered every little thing you had gone through together, with Jisung. You understood how his mind worked. What he struggled with and how to get him through it emotionally—you had witnessed most of it with your own eyes.

And there was nothing one-sided about it either. There was no doubt in your mind that the same went for Jisung. He knew you like the palm of his hand—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’m still very sure we are not gonna break up.”

“I hope you don’t.” Yuqi finally came to your rescue, cutting the tensive atmosphere. “He’s adorable.”

Thankfully, Solar accepted it as the end of story. She sat back as Yuqi diverted the conversation from you to Byul, asking her about her work at the studio. You calmed down as the centre of attention drew from you and towards the ins and outs of the music industry. When Hwasa playfully bumped her shoulder into yours, you looked up at her. A teasing wink showcased her support and affection. And probably her drunkenness.

“Sorry about her. Solar can be very straightforward, but she has a good soul. She’s a realist, and very openly so.”

“It’s alright,” you told her, taking your glass and a huge sip of your Mojito. “I know most relationships at our age don’t last. But we’re solid as a rock. It’d need a tsunami to separate us.”

You hoped the rest of the night would go a little less awkward than this. Though, as the alcohol ultimately entered your system, you soon forgot about the whole conversation.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

A second later Hwasa bent over the nearest bush.

“What happened?”

“She got sick,” you explained the situation as you used your hair tie to fixate Hwasa’s long locks behind her neck. “You good?”

Hwasa wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and nodded as she stumbled towards the housing entrance. Wheein supported her other side, the two of you exchanging concerned looks.

“Is she gonna be alright?”

“I think so. It usually takes a glass of water and an aspirin, and she’ll be back to her old self.” You didn’t doubt Wheein knew how her girlfriend usually handled alcohol. “I’m gonna take her to my room to make sure. It’s closer to the bathroom, and I don’t have a roommate she could disturb.”

“You have a single room?” Yuqi questioned in surprise. Her enthusiasm after midnight was still higher than yours had been all evening. “Man, I should become dorm supervisor next year.”

“It has its perks.”

Yuqi took over once you had reached your room, holding up Hwasa so they could lead her to her girlfriend’s room.

“Good night. Call me if you need help,” you told Wheein, who nodded thankfully.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” After Yuqi had bidden her goodbye, you turned to your door, entering the four-digit code to unlock it.

Once inside, you rid yourself of your shoes, turning the lights on as you set your bag down by your dresser.

A groan came from your bed, making you jump and stumble back against the wooden cupboard. Your blanket moved at the disturbance, a bulge the size of a grown person appearing underneath it. It took a mop of familiar brown hair to calm you as you realise that not an intruder had overtaken your bed.

“Dang it! Jisung, you creep! You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Noticing the tired haze in his eyes, you strolled over to him. You slid next to his torso as your hand reached for his chubby cheek, grazing his skin. It woke him up, your action met with a sigh and his head leaning comfortably against your palm.

Under the blanket, you noticed his shirt, which didn’t even begin to cover his bulging biceps. It took you a moment to recognise why it didn’t fit him like his other clothes usually did.

“Are you wearing my crop top again?” Amusement laced your tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You almost didn’t understand him, his vague mumbling blurrier than typical. He must have been asleep for a while.

“What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to hang out with Felix tonight.” You took out your earrings, neatly placing them on the small nightstand by your bed. “What happened to bonding with your roomie?”

“We hung out for four hours,” he explained with a yawn. “Then I came over because I missed you.”

Running your hand down the side of his face, he grabbed it as soon as he could reach it. He brought it to his lips to give your skin a quick peck.

“Now, come to bed, so we can sleep.”

“I need to get changed and brush my teeth first.”

“I can help you get out of your clothes. And I don’t care if your breath stinks.”

“I care.” You got off your bed to rush through your evening routine so you could fall into your love’s arms already. Yet, your intentions were rudely interrupted. “What the heck!”

Before you could take a step, Jisung’s arm snapped out from beneath your blanket, pulling you back. You couldn’t react fast enough as he dragged you into a lying position next to him, still fully clothed.

“See? I don’t care.”

“What about the light?”

Lifting his head off your pillow, he grabbed the tissue box from your nightstand and tossed it at the light switch. You didn’t know when he had suddenly learned to aim, but it hit smack-bang in the middle, shutting off all the light in your room.

“I gotta admit, that was impressive.”

“Now, let’s get you out of those clothes.”

You giggled as he effortlessly opened the button and zipper of your pants and dragged them down your legs. He tossed them towards the end of the bed, to be dealt with tomorrow. Next was your top, which he swiftly brought over your head, throwing it to join the rest of your clothes.

“If you only cleaned as quick as you undress me.”

“Everybody has their own forté.” You snickered at his words, closing the gap between you. “I could also be way quicker than that. We haven’t had sex in a week. Right now, your clothes are my nemesis.”

The heat of his body caught you in a warm hug, “A week already, huh?”

“8 days and 7 hours, to be exact. But who’s counting?” His arm came around you, scooting you closer so your back pressed flat against his chest.

“You wanna reset that clock?”

“Nah,” he brushed your suggestion off. “I’m way too tired to have sex right now.”

“Tomorrow then?”

“About that.” His hot breath fanned over your neck. “I know it’s date night, but there’s this party I was invited to. I thought we could go to that instead.”

“A party?” It was the first week of university. How had your introverted boyfriend already been invited to a party? You should have probably seen the answer coming. “Whose?”

“I think you know.”

Of course, you knew. How could you not when his parties had been legendary even back in the day? Though, until now, you had suppressed his present at this campus all together. His being the one who shalln’t be named.

You thought about Jisung’s suggestion for a second.

Sure, a party would intervene with your bi-weekly date night. And, on top of that, it was organised by someone, you didn’t know how to approach after everything that had gone down. But this was university, after all. And, as Solar had said before: University is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. So, why the heck shouldn’t you go to a party?

“So? What do you say?”

“Fine.” Jisung’s previously unbothered expression turned into a smile as he grazed his lips to your neck. “Just... Don’t tell your sister we’re going. I’m not sure she would appreciate us hanging out with her ex.”

“Lying to my sister? Who are you, and what did you do to my girlfriend?” A yawn hit your ear, your face scrunching at the unwanted ASMR session. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

As Jisung slipped into a deep slumber, your mind raced through the events of your day. It usually did at the end of the day, your mind too tired to do anything productive but too awake to rest. The silence around you allowed you to remember an earlier text message you never got to answer.

Pulling your arm out of your boyfriend’s iron hold on your body, you reached for your phone on the nightstand.

Your dad had sent you a voice message about three hours earlier when you had still been at the bar. You pushed the play button and brought the phone to your ear to not disturb Jisung’s beauty sleep. By all means, he needed it. Or so he said.

“Hi, honey. It’s dad. I hope you had a lovely day and aren’t studying too hard already.” You smiled at his words, knowing it was one of his biggest hopes for you to get some time to yourself. “Remember what I told you when you left? Live a little!” A pause as he was seemingly picking up something from the ground. “I just wanted to ask when you were coming home Friday. I’m planning brunch with you two and Jia, so if you could be here by noon, that’d be great.”

Friday was the day after tomorrow. You hadn’t forgotten you’d be going back home for the weekend, but you sure hoped the party tomorrow wouldn’t keep you up all night. If you had to be home by noon, you’d have to leave campus by ten. And after a party, like you expected this one to be, you prayed you and a certain someone wouldn’t be too hungover.

“Anyways, sleep tight, and have a lovely night. We miss you!”

A second voice appeared in the background, not too far from your father’s, and your heart skipped a happy beat. The words were harder to make out as he was munching on an apple, cereal, or something else crunchy.

Still, there wouldn’t come a day you wouldn’t understand his babbling.

“Come home soon, please! Mhpf—I miss you, mommy.”

With a loving smile plastered on your face, you replied with a heart emoji. After such a perfect goodnight-messaged, you’d be sleeping like a stone tonight.

Next Chapter >>> Let me know if you want to be tagged. Make sure you have an age indicator in your profile.

Masterlist Let me know your thoughts!

[h-harleybaby]

hii!! can i request for jimmy & kyle confession headcanons ? like how they would confess to you.. tysm <3

How Jimmy and Kyle would confess to you <333

That’s adorableeeee

This is gonna suck but I hope you like it

Jimmy

• At first Jimmy gets you bouquets of flowers and writes cute jokes on the cards and stuff hoping you get the hint

• You did not- also somehow his name always got smudged off the card so who knows, maybe it’s from some random secret admirer

• He definitely enjoys how excited you get about the flowers and loves how you go to him with a huge smile saying someone got you pretty flowers, he just wishes you knew it was him

• This probably goes on for a good 2 weeks, just a 'secret admirer' putting things in your locker and it makes Jimmy so happy that you love them

• Eventually he'll walk you to your locker after putting a love letter finally signed with his name and bug you to read it in front of him

• You stopped reading multiple times to tell Jimmy how thoughtful this person was and no matter who they were you might as well at least take the time to go on a date with the person

• You got so embarrassed when you saw it was from Jimmy and he was smiling like crazy once you hugged him and said you felt the same way. You told him how you were really hoping it was him and the hand writing looked really familiar

Kyle

• Kyles… so awkward, the whole thing is super sweet but he’s so stiff 💀

• He isn't one for confessing in public unless you told him that you would love if someone did that, he wouldn't like doing it too much but he'd do anything for you. Thank god you said that those things were really cheesy and you'd be too embarrassed to even speak

• You're more of a private person, and that's one of the things Kyle admires about you

• He probably gets you some kind of stuffed animal and flowers then confesses his feelings to you in private

• Kyle was so nervous he almost sweat through his jacket

• Thank fuck you felt the same way about him because he would've died of embarrassment

• When you reach to hug him he's a little hesitant at first but gives you a tight (but kinda awkward) hug. "Hun, why are you so sweaty?" "I'm sorry I was really nervous uhm- honey? I'm sorry is it ok if I call you that????"

SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG I'M PUTTING OFF ALL MY REQUESTS BECAUSE I CAN'T REALLY THINK OF ANYTHING

HOPE YOU LIKE IT <3333

[millienia]

Hi, there! :D

First time making a request here (I hope I do it right) so since I saw that requests are open I would like to make my own, here I go:

Type: Fic (Romantic)

Reader Female but Neutral it's okay 👍

Scenary: Silver has a stressful and bad week: (he falls asleep more often in class, fails in his training, etc.) So he grabs his partner (on a day off) to de-stress, he starts kissing his partner with very long, needy kisses. .💕💐

Maybe it ends up being a slightly suggestive coff coff (I'll leave it to your preference)👍

i have the headcanon that Silver is addicted to kisses so if he needs to de-stress. Needs A LOT of kisses.💋 If my request does not convince you you, you can discard it without problem, but if not, take your time and without pressurem bye

Silver Vanrouge x G/N!Reader

synopsis: a sour Silver, having went through a bad week, decidedly de-stresses— by kissing his partner.

an: omg hiii- hahAHA. this took.. a while to start writing lol xd ik you said it could be suggestive cough cough but it felt so fluffy HEHE also i took a look at his PE uniform card and he actually has muscles?? expected but dam

the reader is the prefect nd their gender isnt really mentioned anywhere here,, i didnt proofread this so if there are any problems thats why🥹

Silver was tired.

Actually, maybe that was weird to say when he was always tired.

Correction, Silver was stressed.

The week had gone badly: falling asleep more than usual in his classes, training was taking up much more time than usual considering the much more constant failures, Vorpal— Riddle’s preferred horse— had even kicked him! 

Needless to say, all that put him in an.. irrevocably sour mood.

He had gone through the week in a state of already perpetual tiredness- this time alongside a bitterness at his luck for the last few days.

By Saturday, he’s drained of most of his energy at this point, flopping on his bed at the Diasomnia dorm with an unnatural groan.

Suddenly, he received a revelation that could only be from the Great Seven theirselves.

Putting his jacket and shoes on at an average of .2 seconds, he took out his phone and texted the prefect of Ramshackle— his partner (what an exciting thought).

Meet me at the bench under apple tree #4?

Before even waiting for a response, he left for the aforementioned tree.

As expected, the prefect was there.

You honestly didn’t know what to think when your boyfriend suddenly texted you, but you decided to just shrug off any confusion and go to the meet up spot.

What you expected was him waving to you, maybe even with a basket of snacks.

What you didn’t expect was all 176 centimeters of Silver lunging at you, immediately trapping you within muscled arms.

Mwah!

Smooch one, you’re thinking, ‘awh, he’s too sweet!’.

Smooch two, you’re thinking, ‘heh, is he feeling particularly affectionate today?’.

Maybe a minute give or take into smooch five, you’re feeling like ‘uhm??’. But, he was your boyfriend, so you just kissed him back.

In the middle of smooch something— you’ve stopped counting at this point, all of Silver’s weight has fallen on you.

You quickly realize he’s fallen asleep. Ah. You thought maaaybe he was going to take you back to his dorm.

[sweetie-bri]

GHO/ST [Giantess Growth Caption]

Hope used to always roll her eyes at the idea that growing could addictive. She was always very quick to debate anyone trying to claim height-challenged people being helped was an objective good thing and there was next to no one who was abusing the system despite the grossly exaggerated claims and statistics about average female height tripling. She scoffed and quibbled until eventually she decided to put her money where her mouth was and apply for government height operation/size treatment, or GHO/ST.

Anyone below 5 foot qualified but, those in more disenfranchised groups like Hope were given priority. She had no issue getting her request approved and card distributed literally within the hour. "Huh, that was... easier than I expected. Is there really no background check? Cool." Hope thought.

Her dosage was in medical jargon she didn't understand, but it was easy to schedule on the app. She accidentally ordered WAY too much, but that didn't stop the system from just accepting her input. "Oops, wait, that's my order confirmation! Really? I clicked an extra 0! Well, that's... convenient." Hope couldn't deny it was surprisingly unregulated. I guess it makes sense since the tech is in its infancy.

Supply after supply was doled out to Hope and eventually after a few weeks of carefully following the instructions to the letter, she gained negligible height. "How on EARTH did people get to be like... 12 feet?! There isn't even enough time. I've gained a CENTIMETER! Are they... overdosing..?" Hope was too scared to check online because she didn't want "How to OD on GHO/ST" in her search history. The thought had crossed her mind before. It does taste... pretty good.

She caved, worst case scenario she loses her card and gets her stomach pumped. Instantly she saw her results exponentially increase. The more you take the more you gain. What took before months was done in weeks. She was already 6 feet tall which was the cutoff point for those apply for GHO/ST but she didn't lose her card and the app didn't deny her. Okay, maybe it was a *little* addictive. But Hope wasn't some mindless junkie. She thought.

She wasn't stopping, she didn't know this, but she couldn't if she wanted to. She was hopelessly addicted to growing. She was excited for every chance to follow her routine self-imposed perscription. Nobody was stopping her, especially not herself. She maybe had an inkling something was wrong at this point but who cares?! It feels *good.* I'm *big.* I'm so *strong.* "Of all people, *I* deserve this. I'm not doing anything illegal." She thought.

Her addiction got more fierce. She got more codependent on GHO/ST, and as long as she kept shilling, the pharmacy kept distributing to her. If it was ever late, her day would be ruined, and if it came early, her day was made. Living and dying by GHO/ST. She spent most of her time fantasizing about growing. "Okay, it might be a *little* addictive, but. I just have an addictive personality. It's not GHO/ST's fault." became "I'm pretty sure I need help, but... I don't *want* help." became "If this is wrong, I don't want to be right!"

Reasons to Tip Sweetie-Bri

1.) She's trying her best.

2.) She'll 100% see that message.

3.) It would make her day.

[lfghughes]

Can we get a part 2 for the Quinn fic that used the song Back To You?

a/n: break up quinn fics always hurt my heart so you guys dont even know how sad part 1 made me

It had been a week since you had seen Quinn at the club and since that night the texts from him were nonstop. That kiss might have melted you to your core but you weren’t giving in, not yet at least. Maybe it was evil but you wanted Quinn to squirm a little.

Texts were ignored, calls were ignored, the flowers he sent to your house were not ignored but you didn’t send him a thank you text or call him like he had asked on the card. You were going to give it a few more days before you reached out you had decided. But apparently what you decided wasn’t what was going to happen.

A knock on your door let you know someone was there and when you looked through the peephole there was Quinn and there he was holding his phone above his head? You opened the door confused but when you opened the door your thoughts were washed away because the song you both had deemed was your song was playing from his phone.

“Quinn what are you doing? It’s nearly midnight. Didn’t you have a game tonight?” You asked and you knew you made a mistake with your words when he grinned slightly. “So you still keep track of my game schedule?” Your cheeks turned a slight shade of red, you weren’t going to admit you had actually watched the game.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m reenacting that one scene from that movie you like except I didn’t have a boom box.” He pointed out and you felt your heart skip a beat at the notion. “Okay, get inside before you wake up all my neighbors.” You told him as you pulled him into your place and with that he turned the music off.

“You’ve been ignoring my texts and calls.” He pointed out and you nodded your head, there wasn’t much for you to say on that subject because you didn’t really have an excuse for it nor did you want to give one. “Baby, please. I know I was wrong and I want to come back home.” And there went your heart again.

“Quinn..I want you to come back home too I just…I can’t go back to the way we were acting.” You told him and you worried that both of you would. “I think it would be better if we took things slow.” You told him quietly because you were sure he wouldn’t be happy with that answer. Instead he nodded his head fervently. “Whatever you need or want, I’ll do it.”

This was the first time in a long while that it felt like Quinn was actually putting in the effort. “We’ll go out on dates, take it slow and then maybe one day you’ll let me move back in?” He asked and you nodded your head. “I think that’s a good idea.” You agreed and with that a small smile spread on his lips. “I’ll do anything if it means you’re all mine again."

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

You Don’t Go To Parties | R.C.

Read part 2 here

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe flashes back on moments in your relationship as he looks for you at his party, even though he knows that he won’t find you.

Based on the song:

A/N: This is the longest fic I’ve ever written and I think the one I’ve enjoyed the most. This definitely isn’t canon Rafe but it is the Rafe I dream of. Rafe and Sarah are actually close in this because they deserve that and Sarah and Topper aren’t dating cuz I just don’t like them together. Also it is very very very much not proofread like at all

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: drug and alcohol use, addiction, arguing, harassment, talk of ward being a shitty dad

Word Count: 6.5k

-

25 minutes. That’s how long the party had been going on at the Cameron house. 25 minutes. That was how long Rafe had been looking for you at said party.

He hadn’t even realized he was doing it. Scanning the party every few minutes, his conscious mind chalked it up to wanting to know who was at his house and he left it at that. He didn’t want to think about it any deeper.

Take a shot. Scan the kitchen.

Do a line. Scan the basement.

Play a round of beer pong. Scan the backyard.

“Right, bro? Rafe, have you even heard a word I said?” A shove from Topper brings Rafe back to reality.

“Huh, what? Is it my turn?” Rafe turns back to the card table covered with red solo cups.

“We lost like five minutes ago,” Topper deadpans, “which you would know if you had been paying attention.

Where is your head, bro? It’s like you’re not even here. This is your party.”

Rafe just shrugs in response, scanning the backyard again.

“Who are you looking for?”

Rafe turns back to his friend. “I’m not looking for anyone.”

“Yeah, sure,” Topper says skeptically, “You’re just searching the crowd every few minutes for no reason.” He claps him on the back. “Real convincing.”

Rafe starts to make a noise of indignation, but Topper is already walking away, leaving him to his thoughts.

As much as he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, Rafe knows exactly who he’s looking for, and he also knows he’ll never find you in the crowd. You don’t go to parties anymore, and he only has himself to blame.

-

(10 months earlier)

Growing up middle class in the Outer Banks was a weird experience. You weren’t a pogue and you weren’t a kook, and neither group made any attempt to claim you. You were just you.

You hadn’t wanted for much during your childhood, but you learned not to spend on needless expenses. Your parents taught you the necessity of hard work and they taught you how to budget. You didn’t go to lavish parties, but you weren’t going to bed hungry. As an adult, you worked two jobs, waitressing during the week and bartending on weekends, and your parents pitched in every once and a while to help you pay your rent. You weren’t rich by any means, but thanks to your work ethic and the kindness of your parents, you made it work.

Rafe Cameron grew up in a different world. He splurged endlessly, using up the massive allowance that his dad gave him. He didn’t care about price and he didn’t care about budgeting. Most of all, he had never worked hard a day in his life.

When he comes up to the bar one night while you’re pouring drinks, you don't spare him a second glance. He flashes you that crooked grin and calls you ‘darlin’’, but it doesn't matter. You know Rafe Cameron’s reputation and you don’t get tied up in the games of rich boys. You simply make him his drink and go on with your night.

Rafe on the other hand, is smitten from the moment he lays eyes on you. When the typical smile and sweet talk doesn’t have you falling at his feet like every other girl, he knows he’s a goner. He would make it his mission to catch your eye no matter what it took.

So he puts in the work, weekend after weekend he comes to the bar, day after day he comes to the restaurant. Each meeting is filled with flirty conversations and teasing looks, and despite your better judgment, you can feel him wearing you down.

-

(8 months earlier)

Two months after your first meeting, Rafe saunters into the bar, just like he did every Friday night, and heads straight for you.

“Y/N.” He greets you, the same crooked grin on his face.

“Rafe,” you reply, the same even tone you always use, “The usual?”

“You know it, darlin’.”

“You’re later than usual.” You note.

He smirks at that. “Worried I wasn’t coming?”

You give him a look. “Not a chance,” you retort, “just thought maybe I had finally scared you off.”

“Impossible.”

You can’t help the small smile that crosses your face at his reply, and you turn quickly so he doesn’t see, playing it off as helping another customer. When you refocus your attention back on him, you realize he hadn’t taken his eyes off you. He scans your face, the look on his face more serious than usual and one you can’t quite read.

He leans in, eyes locked on your face and murmurs under his breath, “Go on a date with me, please.”

Rafe has never blatantly asked you out before. You know that it’s been his intention all along, all his flirting building up to this moment, but you didn’t expect such sincerity behind his words. And you certainly didn’t expect him to say please.

You want to say no. You know better than to get involved with someone like him, but Rafe has a gravitational force that pulls you, and everyone around him, in. So when he gives you a small, hopeful smile, you can’t help that your body leans closer to him. And you can’t help but say yes.

-

He picks you up at 6:00 on the dot Monday night, looking about as handsome as you had ever seen him in dark jeans and a light blue pullover. He hadn’t told you much about what he had planned for the night, just to wear something comfortable and he would take care of everything else.

You aren’t quite sure what to expect from Rafe Cameron on a date, but as he opens the door of his truck for you, looking down at you with a smile and a soft look in his eyes, you realize you aren’t worried.

Rafe drives you to a small clearing that you had never seen. It’s a grassy spot that overlooks a quiet area of the beach, and is just secluded enough to give the two of you privacy. He pulls in carefully, angling the bed of the truck toward the beach.

Once he parks, you reach for the door handle, but Rafe puts up a hand to stop you.

“Wait right here for a second, okay?”

He grabs a bag from the backseat and hops out of the truck, setting up the truck bed to his liking. When he finishes, he jogs over to your side of the truck where he opens your door and helps you out.

You raise an eyebrow at the gesture, a small smile gracing your face. “Quite the gentleman, Rafe Cameron.”

“I was trained well,” he jokes back at you.

As you round the back of the truck, Rafe jumps up onto the tailgate, reaching down a hand to help you up the big step. You’re thankful for the help as you almost fall, not once, but twice in the process.

“Well, that was graceful,” you giggle and Rafe laughs along with you.

When he’s confident you're steady on your own two feet, Rafe takes a seat on one side of the truck bed, motioning you to do the same across from him. Between you, he’s set up a small picnic with a few of your favorite foods and a variety of drinks, alcoholic and non-alcoholic alike.

“I wasn’t sure which you would want,” Rafe offers at your questioning glance, “I wasn’t sure how much you drink.”

Your heart flutters a little with the thoughtfulness of his words. It’s not what you would’ve expected from Rafe. You’ve heard the stories, and know his reputation. Rafe drank a high volume and often. You’d expected him to want you to do the same. Then again, nothing about your experience with Rafe has been what you expected.

The night was everything you could’ve hoped for. You and Rafe spend hours talking and laughing while feasting on the picnic he had brought. The conversation never seemed to lull, and even the quiet moments between the two of you felt comfortable.

As the sun went down over the water, you let out a content sigh. “It really is beautiful.”

Rafe hums in agreement, leaning back against his hands as he looks between you and the sunset. He can’t believe how lucky he is to be here with you. How he convinced you to go out with him is beyond his comprehension, but he’s going to enjoy it while it lasts.

A light breeze blows across the clearing, and you can’t help but shiver slightly. It was usually pretty warm in the Outer Banks, but considering it was nearing November, sometimes the nights get a bit chilly.

Noticing your discomfort, Rafe reaches through the open truck window and pulls out a jacket. He drapes it over your shoulders gently, and you feel yourself leaning into his touch. You look up at him, the ‘thank you’ getting caught into your throat when you realize just how close he is.

You can feel his warm breath fan across your face, his eyes flickering to your eyes and your lips, gaze intense. He’s waiting for your permission to make a move, so you tilt your head up ever so slightly. Moving so your lips are almost brushing against his.

He takes this as his cue, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss is strong, but gentle, Rafe’s mouth moving in time with yours as if you were made for each other. You feel like you’re floating, and you don’t ever want to come down.

-

(7 months earlier)

A month into your relationship, Rafe takes you to a party at his buddy Dylan’s house. It’s your first real kook party. Sure, you’ve been to your fair share of parties while living on the island, but none of them have been in mansions owned by rich parents who just let their kids have free reign.

You can tell Rafe feels comfortable like this, surrounded by rich kids in a big house with loud music and expensive booze. You know he’s been to plenty of parties just like this one, but you can’t help but feel out of place, even by the kook king’s side.

Luckily for you, Rafe steers you towards the kitchen pretty quickly, not wanting to share you with everyone the whole night.

“Wow, this is quite the party,” you state, gesturing around the room.

Rafe pours you a cup of beer and then grabs one for himself, tucking an arm around your waist to pull you into his body.

“What do you mean? You’ve been to lots of parties,” he comments.

“Not in houses like this, Rafe,” you laugh, “they have two ovens, and a fridge that looks like a cabinet.”

Rafe chuckles at that. “Fair enough.”

“Yo, Rafe!” A loud, frat boy looking blond enters the kitchen.

Rafe gives him a quick bro hug before leaning back into your side. “Hey man, what’s up?”

“Where you been lately, dude? I haven’t seen you at a party in forever!” He gestures toward you. “I take it this is the girl who’s been taking you all your time?”

Rafe smiles warmly down at you. “This is Y/N. Y/N, Trey.” He gestures back to the blond.

“Nice to meet you,” you offer.

“Yeah, you too.” Trey throws out the quick reply, clearly thinking of you as nothing beyond a fling. He turns back toward Rafe. “Look you didn’t hear this from me, but there’s some of the good stuff downstairs. You know what I mean.” He taps the side of his nose.

Rafe feels you stiffen against his side at the comment. “I’m good, man. Appreciate the heads up.”

Trey shakes his head, giving him an incredulous look. “More for me then.”

He walks away not long after, but you still feel on edge. Sensing your continuing discomfort, Rafe leads you away from the commotion and out onto an empty balcony.

“Are you okay?” He doesn’t crowd you which you appreciate, leaving a few feet of space between you. “I can tell that conversation made you uncomfortable.” For having known you only a few months, he seems to be able to read you pretty well.

You nod. “It’s just not really something we’ve talked about you know? The drug use.”

Rafe nods.

“Look, I don’t want to tell you what to do. And I don’t want to issue ultimatums. But I feel like we need to have a conversation about it before our relationship progresses any further.”

Rafe’s eyes never leave yours as he nods again, encouraging you to continue.

“I know it’s a big thing on the island, coke especially. I mean I don’t live under a rock. But I’m not comfortable around it, and I’m not comfortable surrounding myself with people who do it.” You pause for a moment, preparing yourself for what you have to say next. “Addiction is pretty prevalent in my family, and a lot of people have struggled with drug abuse. It’s a big deal to me and I don’t think I can be with you if that’s something you’re taking part in.” You hold your breath, knowing this could be the end of your budding relationship with Rafe.

He steps closer to you, reaching out to intertwine your fingers. “I understand,” he says with sincerity in his words, “I know I have a reputation Y/N, and I know you’ve looked past a lot of it to give me a chance.”

You look away, finding it hard to meet the intensity of his gaze, afraid of what might come next.

“I want you to feel comfortable around me, no matter what. Would it make you feel better if I told you I’ve been clean since we met?”

Your eyes snap to his at the question. “Really?” Rafe nods in reply. “Why?”

“I knew I wanted to be with you from the day I met you, and I knew in order for that to happen I had to be the best version of myself that I could.” He shrugs. “You’re worth more than the high.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

-

(5 months earlier)

“I just don’t understand what you’re getting so upset about?”

“Rafe, I’m upset because we’ve had this dinner date planned for weeks and you suddenly canceled on me twenty minutes before you were supposed to pick me up.”

You’re standing on one side of your living room as Rafe paces across from you. Last night, the two of you were supposed to go to dinner at a nice restaurant. A date that had been planned two weeks ago when Rafe had first surprised you with the reservation. You had spent over an hour getting ready when he canceled on you with a text. No explanation as to why and a half assed apology. You don’t think he even realized you were upset about it until he showed up at your door this morning and saw the piercing glare you gave him.

“Look, there was nothing I could do about it, okay?” Rafe runs his hands through his hair. “Something just came up last minute.”

“And you won’t even tell me what it was.” His non-explanation does nothing to curb your anger. “How do you expect me to feel, Rafe?”

He softens when he sees the look in your eyes, realizing you're not so much mad as you are hurt. Hurt that he canceled, hurt that he won’t tell you why, hurt that he doesn’t seem to care.

“It was Sarah, and my dad,” Rafe offers in explanation, “I don’t know exactly what happened, but they got in this huge fight and I just needed to be there for her.” He moves closer to you. “I’m sorry, baby.”

All your anger fades away at his words. “Is she okay?” You and Sarah have gotten close since you started dating Rafe. You know all the Cameron kids have a strained relationship with their father, Rafe most of all. He’s never told you the full extent of his issues with his dad, but you know he’s very protective of his sisters when it comes to Ward.

Rafe nods. “She’ll be fine.” He wants to pull you into his arms, but he hesitates, knowing this conversation isn’t quite over.

You look at him with hurt eyes. “You could’ve told me you know. I would’ve understood.” You love how much he cares for his sisters. You never would’ve stood in the way of him being there for Sarah.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he repeats again, “I wasn’t thinking.” This time you move a little closer, opening yourself up to him. When he reaches out, you allow him to pull you into his body. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

You nod into his chest. Rafe pulls you back slowly to look into your eyes. “I love you.”

It’s the first time he’s said it, but it’s how he’s felt since day one. When you smile up at him, eyes full of adoration, he feels like his heart could burst.

“I love you too, Rafe.”

-

The Cameron house is full of music, beer, and kooks. At this point in your relationship you’ve been to a fair amount of kook parties with Rafe and while it’s still not necessarily your scene, you’ve come to feel a lot more comfortable in the chaotic atmosphere by Rafe’s side. You understand the appeal more now, even if it’s not entirely your thing.

Since Rafe is hosting this party, you spend a lot of the night with Sarah, allowing him to mingle with his friends, pour drinks, and the like. The two of you are confident in your relationship and don’t feel like you need to spend every minute together. You don’t mind him doing his hosting thing as long as he checks in on you from time to time, as you’re having fun dancing the night away with Sarah.

“Hey darlin’,” Rafe pulls you into him from behind, sliding his arm around your waist while you sway to the music, “Not having too much fun without me are you?”

You turn to wrap your arms around his neck. “Oh absolutely. You know your sister might be more fun than you are. I might just have to reconsider which Cameron I’m dating,” you tease.

Rafe feigns shock with a hand to his heart, looking between you and Sarah. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing!”

“Oh believe it, big brother!” Sarah chimes in, “She’s my girlfriend now.”

He pouts at that, turning to you with over exaggerated sad eyes. You laugh at his expression, but can’t help kissing the pout off his lips.

“Don’t worry, baby. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Sarah fakes a gag behind you as the two of you look lovingly into each other’s eyes. “Okay, you guys are gross. Rafe, leave us alone so we can dance!”

“What, now I can’t even spend time with my own girlfr–” A crash sounds from behind him. “Oh fuck. What the hell was that?”

He gives you an apologetic look but you wave him off. “It’s okay, go deal with the chaos.” You smile and he gives you one last peck on the lips before running off in the direction of the crash.

Sarah takes her place at your side again as you both watch his retreating figure. “I may give him a lot of shit, but I gotta admit, you two are really good together.” She loops her arm through yours. “Plus I got a new best friend out of the deal.”

The two of you laugh and turn back to the dance floor when you feel a hand close around your wrist. You turn with a smile, assuming Rafe has returned after dealing with the mess, but instead you come face to face with a guy you’ve never met.

“Um, hi,” you say to him, a little confused.

The guy flashes an over confident smirk at you. “Hey, babe. Wanna dance?”

“Oh, I’m actually dancing with my friend right now, but thanks.”

You try to pull your arm from his grip, but instead of talking your gentle brush off he just grips you tighter. Sarah turns back looking for you just as he pulls you hard, causing you to stumble closer to him. She gives you a worried look, but you shake your head at her. You’ve dealt with your fair share of pushy men at the bar, so you're pretty sure you can handle this yourself.

“Oh come on.” He speaks uncomfortably close to your face. So much so that you can smell the alcohol coming off his breath in waves. “It’s just a dance.”

“I said no.” You yank your arm stiffly from his grip. “Find someone else.”

Your defiance does little more than anger him as he lunges for you again, this time gripping both arms so tightly you’re sure he’ll leave a bruise.

“Hey!” Sarah jumps in now as this situation escalates. “She said no. Back off!”

In the kitchen, Rafe is finishing up dealing with the most recent crisis when he hears voices raising in the living room. Oh god, what now?

“Yo Rafe!” Topper rushes into the kitchen. “You better get out here man. Some guy is harassing Y/N.”

Rafe charges into the living room after his best friend, freezing when he sees you. Some guy has got ahold of both of your arms while you try to pull away, Sarah trying in vain to get in between the two of you, and the rest of the crowd looking around nervously, clearly waiting for the moment when Rafe finds out what is happening.

Sarah is all up in the guy’s face, practically biting his head off, but you can’t really hear what is being said at this point. You’re finding it a little hard to breathe at the moment, unable to concentrate on anything except how trapped you feel as you continue to pull against his strong grip.

You can feel your eyes welling up as your breathing shallows, but right before the tears can fall the guy is ripped away from you. You stumble back into Sarah’s arms as a tall body plants themselves protectively in front of you.

“Stay the hell away from her,” Rafe practically growls out.

“Hey, I didn’t do anything wrong! She was all over me, man.”

Rafe is physically holding himself back at that, hands trembling with the effort. “I can guarantee you, she was not.” He wants to cave the guy’s face in, but he knows that would just upset you more and he doesn’t want to do anything to add to your anxiety.

The guy stalks forward again, angry at being embarrassed in front of all these people, and gets in Rafe’s face. “You need to back the fuck up,” Rafe barks out.

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“First of all, I’m her boyfriend.” The guy goes to make an angry retort, probably about you wanting him, but Rafe cuts him off. “And second of all, I’m the one throwing this damn party.”

The guy pales in realization, he may not have known what Rafe Cameron looks like, but he clearly knows this is his party, and he just pissed off the kook king big time.

“Now get the fuck out of my house.” Rafe looks over at Topper who nods and grabs the guy by the back of his shirt, marching him straight out the front door.

Rafe turns toward you, still shaking in Sarah’s embrace. He opens his arms and you bury yourself in his chest as he leads you away from the crowd up to his bedroom. As you walk you can hear Sarah yell behind you, “Alright everyone, party’s over! Go home.”

As he shuts the door to his bedroom, Rafe speaks softly in your ear, “I’m so sorry, baby. I should’ve been there.”

You shake your head. “I’m okay. It’s not your fault.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving your side at a party ever again. I promise.” He crawls on the bed pulling you so you're laying fully on top of him. “I won’t let anyone lay their hands on you again.”

You just nod, nustling deeper in his embrace, finally feeling the trembling dissipate as you begin to feel safe again in his arms.

-

(3 months earlier)

You sat around the fire listening as one of your friends told a story about a terrible first date she went on last week. You plant your face in your hands and groan as she tells you the cheesy pickup line he used at the end of the night, Sarah falling into fits of laughter beside you.

“I honestly can’t believe you didn’t just walk out at this point,” she gets out between giggles.

You nod your head enthusiastically. “Girl, you have gotta start finding better people to date.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says in a teasing voice, “Not all of us can be in the perfect relationship, okay?”

You put your hands up in mock surrender, letting her continue on her rant of first dates being the worst. Your relationship with Rafe isn’t perfect, but you won’t deny that it's pretty damn close.

You and your friends put this bonfire together at the beach as a chance to just relax and catch up. Sarah, Topper, and a few others sit with you on the sand. Rafe coming a little later in the night because he has to run a few quick errands for his dad, but you don’t mind. This is the first time you’ve really had a solid group of friends since you were a kid, and it’s nice to feel relaxed and happy even without your boyfriend there.

A few minutes later, you hear a truck pull up and a car door shut. You turn with a bright smile on your face, excited to see your boyfriend after a long day without him, but your excitement turns to worry when you see the look on his face. He plasters on a smile as he makes it to the group, but you know him well enough to see right through it. You turn to Sarah and the look she gives you confirms that something is definitely wrong with Rafe.

“Hey, let’s go on a little walk, okay?” You give him a small smile. “We’ll be back in a few, guys.”

Your friends respond with a chorus of okay’s and see ya’s and Sarah gives you an encouraging nod.

Trekking along the water line, you take Rafe’s hand in yours. “What’s going on, baby? You seem upset.”

“Just a long day. My dad was a lot.”

You nod. “Do you wanna tell me about it?”

“Maybe in a little while. Can we just walk for a bit?”

“Of course.”

He tucks you into his side, enjoying the way your presence grounds him after the day he’s had. You wait patiently until he’s ready to start speaking. Rafe doesn’t talk about his dad too often around you. He’s told you the basics of how they don’t really get along and that he can be pressuring and overbearing, but that’s the extent of it.

While he knows that you would be supportive and that it’s good to get it out, he doesn’t like recounting their fights. It usually just makes him feel trapped back in that moment. This, however, is the worst fight they’ve had in a while and he just can’t deal with it himself this time.

“He told me I’m a failure and that I can’t be trusted to do anything right.” Rafe rushes out the sentence in one breath.

You stop abruptly, turning to face him. “He said what?”

“He said that I’m never going to be a successful adult, because I can’t even do the simple tasks he asks of me. And that I’m distracted all the time and never spend enough time at home or doing the work he needs me to do.”

“Rafe,” you say softly, but he’s not finished.

“He wants me to break up with you because he thinks you take up too much of my time and don’t respect him or the way he runs our family.”

You can’t help the look of disbelief that crosses your face. “Oh my god.”

“I know.” Then he rushes to add, “I told him no obviously. I’m not breaking up with you because he told me too. I’d never do that.”

“No, baby, I know.” You reach a hand up to his cheek, rubbing your thumb back and forth to calm him down. “That’s not what I’m worried about. But that was a lot for you to hear, Rafe.”

He nods slightly, trying and failing to hide the tears welling up in his eyes.

“You’re not a failure, baby.” You turn his head toward you gently. “If he can’t see the amazing man you’ve become, the capable, confident, happy man that you are, then that’s his deficiency not yours.”

Rafe looks back at the ground, whispering in agreement, but it’s clear he doesn’t mean it.

“Rafe Cameron, you are an incredible man. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. And I will remind you of that everyday until you believe it.” You duck down under his lowered gaze until your eyes meet. “Screw your dad.” You add sternly.

That earns you a little smile and a squeeze of your hand. “Thank you,” Rafe murmurs.

You pull him to sit next to you on the sand. “Why don’t we just stay here for a little while? We don’t have to go back to the bonfire quite yet.”

And there you sit, for the rest of the night, your back pressed to Rafe’s front, his arms around your waist while you rub soothing circles into his arms. Enjoying the breeze, the sound of the waves, and most of all, each other's company, because as long as you have each other it doesn’t matter what else goes wrong in the world.

-

(2 months earlier)

“Come on, Y/N!”

“Rafe, I’ve told you a hundred times, I can’t go to Jason’s party with you tonight. I have to work. You’ll just have to go with Top.”

You’re standing behind the bar arguing with Rafe, who apparently drove all the way all the way to your place of employment to beg you to go to this party with him, even though he knows damn well that you have a shift tonight.

“Can’t you blow off work just this once?” Rafe tries again.

“No, Rafe, I can’t.” You pace back and forth in front of him, getting dangerously close to being late for work. “If I don’t work this shift, I won’t be able to make rent this month, not to mention the fact that they’d probably fire me for bailing this late.”

“It’s like you don’t even want to spend time with me?”

“Because I won’t blow off work for you? Rafe, I need this money. You know what, I’m done with this conversation. I’m going to be late. We’ll talk about this later.” With that final statement, you stalk inside, not even pausing to glance back at your boyfriend.

You can’t stop thinking about your fight while you work, turning the words over and over in your head throughout your shift. You know Rafe has never had to worry about money or even really about having a job, but usually he was pretty understanding of your life and finances. He knew you needed this job to survive and as much as you wish it could be different, at this point in your life, work had to take precedence over hanging out with friends. You couldn’t afford for it not to.

By the end of your shift, you decide that you and Rafe should wait until morning to talk. You still feel pretty hot about the whole situation, and nothing good would come from the two of you arguing all night. In the morning, you could stop by his place and have a discussion when both of you had clear heads.

You pack up your stuff, saying goodbye to your coworkers and heading to your car when you notice two new voicemails from Rafe. You play the first.

“Hey darlin’, it's me. I was an asshole earlier and you have every right to be mad at me. I shouldn’t have asked you to skip out on work and I definitely shouldn’t have made it all about me. I know how important this job is for you. Just call me back please. I hate it when we fight. I love you, baby.”

You let out a deep sigh, your heart clenching. You hated fighting with him too, but you still think the night would do you both some good. You play the second voicemail while you start driving.

“Y/N,” Rafe’s voice breaks on your name, “I know you’re still mad at me, but I need you.”

You stiffen at the pain in his voice, feeling a little panicked.

“Dad and I got in this huge fight and– It was really bad,” He whispers the last part, “Call me back please. I need you.”

You pull over quickly, clicking on his contact in your phone. Your fingers drum anxiously on the wheel with every ring, but there’s no answer. You try again to no avail. As a last resort, you try calling Topper. He picks up on the second ring.

“Y/N! Where you at?” You can hear the noise of the party in the background.

“Top, is Rafe with you?”

“Yeah, he’s around here somewhere! I saw him just a few minutes ago.”

“Great, I’m on my way.” You hang up before he even has a chance to say goodbye, turning around in the middle of the road to make your way to Jason’s house.

For once, you’re glad you live on such a small island, because it only takes you a few minutes to get to the party. You park quickly and head inside, looking for your boyfriend all the while. It only takes you a few seconds to spot Topper and Sarah in the living room.

“Hey girl!” Sarah gives you a big hug.

“Hey, have you seen your brother?”

She shakes her head. “Last I saw he was in the backyard.”

“No, no,” Topper chimes in, “We saw him a few minutes ago. I think he was heading to the back room.”

“Oh yeah!” Sarah nods along.

“Thanks guys.” You head in the direction they pointed, ignoring their calls to take a shot with them. The only thought in your head after hearing that message is finding your boyfriend and making sure he’s okay.

Pushing through the crowds, you finally make your way into the back room, letting out a sign of relief when you see your boyfriend sprawled out on the couch. He turns your way, catching your eye with a deer in the headlights expression on his face. The relief you felt disappearing as fast as it arrived when you see the white power under his nose.

Before Rafe can say a word, you spin on your heel, heading back the way you came.

“Y/N! Y/N, wait!” He calls after you, but you don’t stop.

It isn’t until you push past your friends and out the front door until he finally catches up to you. Rafe grabs your arm, spinning you to face him. Behind him you can see Sarah and Topper have followed the two of you into the front yard with confused and concerned looks on their faces.

“Y/N, baby, would you stop? Where are you going?”

“Where am I going? Rafe, are you kidding me?” You shove his hand off your arm. “I’m going home.”

“Why?”

“Because you are high out of your mind!” He has the decency to look ashamed at that. “You told me you were done with this, Rafe. You knew how uncomfortable you using drugs made me and you told me you were done, that I was worth more than the high. Clearly that wasn’t true.” You turn back toward your car.

“What the hell was I supposed to do, Y/N? I needed you and you weren’t there! You didn’t even answer the phone when I called.”

You whirl around. “I was at work! I didn’t even have my phone on me, Rafe. I had no idea that you called.” Rafe opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “No. You don’t get to blame this on me. I rushed over here after a long, miserable shift of replaying our fight over and over in our mind, just to make sure you were okay. You made this choice. You chose to throw away everything we had. Six months down the drain for a meaningless high.”

“Baby, please.” The tears in his eyes and pain on his face threaten to crack you in half, but you’ve made up your mind. This is one thing you can’t forgive.

You can barely get the words out, your voice nothing more than a broken whisper. “I’m done.”

You rush to your car, leaving Rafe standing there in shock. Before you can shut your door, Sarah is there pulling you into a hug. “Let me come with you, you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

You shake your head. “No, stay with Rafe. He's your brother. He needs you more right now. He just gave up eight months clean and sober, that’s going to be hell to come back from.”

She just gives you an uncertain look. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. I promise.”

You try to hold it together as you drive home, but you don’t make it more than a few miles before you have to pull over, crying too hard to continue. By the time you make it home, it’s been over an hour since the party. You crawl in bed straight away, crying until there’s no tears left and you fall into an uneasy sleep.

-

(Back to present)

Rafe stumbles back into the living room, looking for anything and everything that will distract him from thoughts of you. He makes it to the kitchen, quickly downing a shot before pouring himself another when he hears a noise. He freezes for a moment, thinking the universe is taunting him, then turns slowly.

There you are talking to Sarah, beautiful as ever, with your head thrown back in a laugh, and another man’s arm around your waist.

-

Writing masterlist

[1000roughdrafts]

hey! if you take requests, i’m just wondering if you’d consider a sister winchester one? maybe her at 18? i love your writing so much, and i’d really love something like a hurt reader/dying reader?? something super angsty ahaha

Oh, for sure! Angst is my favorite! (as I'm sure you can tell by the word count lol) sorry it’s taken me like 3 years to get to this 😞

A/N: this was meant to post 2/28/24 because I wanted to ease into coming back with an every other week posting schedule BUT I’m just too excited and antsy for that lol also it’s set in Season 1, Episode 1

Thank you by the way!

Title: Please Wake Up

Warnings: swearing, graphic description of injury and illness, blood angst, hurt/dying reader, depiction of medical procedures, takes place in season 1 episode 1 :)

Word Count: 5.8k

Being third born after two boys, Y/N always felt like she had big shoes to fill. Despite her best efforts to impress the man, she never really formed a bond with John. Her next role model was Dean, who became more of a father to her than John ever was or could be.

Until her eleventh birthday, Dean did her hair into pigtails every day, partly because he hadn't learned to do any other hairstyle but mostly because he thought it was the cutest on her. He'd pack her and Sam's lunch with snacks he'd bought from vending machines and even pretend to take her on hunts because he knew she wanted to be exactly like him.

When she wasn't learning about monsters and guns with Dean, she spent time with Sam. He'd help her with her homework or play board and card games. They have as much in common as Y/N and Dean. Neither Sam nor Y/N got along with John, and neither remember their mothers. 

Y/N's mother was a woman John met in Nebraska three years after the boy's mom died. The affair only lasted a night, but to his surprise, he heard from her again six months later with the news that they had a baby girl on the way. John was shocked and heartbroken. He couldn't bear the thought of bringing another child into the life of hunting.

John kept his distance, adamant that Y/N would be better off without him, and when another three months of silence went by, he figured that Y/N's mother came around to see it his way. Unfortunately, her pregnancy was complicated, as was the birth, and it turned out that having Y/N is what killed her. 

When John got the call, he had half a mind to let the state take custody of little Y/N. Indeed, they would provide her with a better life than he could. John decided to meet her at least, and when he laid eyes on her perfect little face, he couldn't bring himself to abandon her. 

Y/N was barely sixteen when Sam left for college. While she was proud of him for putting himself first, it broke her heart for him to go the way he did. She missed him more and more every day, often keeping Dean up at night with her sniffling and crying. After a while, he would get into bed next to her when the tears started and sing Hey Jude while playing with her hair to help her fall asleep. That went on for another six months before she finally started to fall asleep without crying. 

For her seventeenth birthday, Dean came across a necklace he'd wanted to get for her since Sam left. From his wallet, he took out the only picture he had of the sibling trio, representing the single moment of their life where John treated them like regular kids, and using his pocket knife, he carved around their heads and bodies to match the exact size of the locket, smiling proudly at himself when it fit perfectly. 

Now at eighteen, she stands next to the Impala while Dean lugs their bags out, drops them into the trunk, and slams it shut. He heads for the driver's door but stops when he realizes Y/N hasn't opened hers yet. Eyebrows raised, he twirls a finger in the air as if to say, 'Let's get a move on.'

"Are you ever gonna teach me how to drive, Dean?" she asks. "I mean, you've got to, you know?" 

"No, I don't. Get in," Dean says. She does so with a huff. Dean checks the mirrors before backing out of their parking spot. Turning to Y/N, he says, "Besides, as long as I'm around, you don't need to," but softens his face into a smile when he looks at her. "Cause there's no way in Hell I'll ever let you drive my car." 

Y/N lets out a soft chuckle. "It doesn't have to be this car, Dean!" She rolls the window down, letting the cool breeze hit her face. "What happens if we get separated and I'm being chased by… I don't know, something that has super speed, and my only way back to you is to steal a car and -" 

"Stop. First of all, you should know that I'd never put you in that kind of danger," Dean says, disgusted by the mere thought. He lets out a long sigh. "I'll teach you," he says, looking at her gleaming smile. He tries his damnedest to see her for the adult she's becoming, but he only sees the happy baby in pull-ups he used to feed marshmallows and jello to on a motel room floor. "Just… not yet, okay?" 

She scoffs, "Most people learn to drive when they're only fifteen. I mean, you took me to freaking Vegas with a fake ID for my birthday, for fuck's sake!" 

"I said not yet, Y/N!" he says, shooting her the 'dad look' he's been perfecting since she was four. 

"Fine," she grumbles. She clasps her hands, "So I was looking through news articles, and there seem to be vamps in the next town. Should we be on that?" 

Dean clears his throat and needlessly adjusts the rear-view mirror. "Actually, kiddo, we're on something else right now." He keeps his head straight but glances at her out of the corner of his eyes. Whispering, he says, "We're gonna go get Sammy." 

Y/N's eyes widen as her head whips to look at him. "What?" 

He keeps his eyes on the road, "yeah, uh, with Dad missing... we could use the help," he says, gripping the steering wheel tighter. 

"But Sam's at college!" Y/N scoffs, "he wanted out!" 

"He abandoned us!" he shouts, shaking his head at himself when he notices her shoulders tense. Her eyes peer into her lap, where her hands lie folded. “Look Y/N/N, I just… I can't shake this awful feeling that something is wrong." He waits for a response from her, but she only nods with thin lips. She tunes him out and focuses on the wind hitting the window. "I gotta make sure they're okay," he says softly. 

Over the years, Y/N has learned to trust Dean's intuition, but right now, it just feels like he's being selfish. She opts to stay quiet, even if it makes a long drive longer.

Y/N jolts awake at the sound of the trunk slamming shut. She takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She doesn't see Dean next to her, so she scans her surroundings through squinted eyes, hoping for a clue about her whereabouts. She finds a gas station receipt in her lap and flips it over to see the scribbles of Dean's handwriting telling her to 'stay put or else.' She rolls her eyes, crumpling it into a ball to throw it into the backseat.

She hears the voices of two familiar men, one of whom she hasn't heard in two years. Her heart races, and she fumbles with the seat belt, trying to unhook it with shaky hands. She jumps out of the car and turns in time to see Dean leaning on the back of the Impala.

"It's a law school interview," Sam says, "and it's my whole future on a plate," he glares.

"Law school?" Dean asks with a smirk. Y/N walks over to stand next to Dean. He shoots a quick, acknowledging glance her way. Sam's eyes shift between Dean and Y/N, softening when they land on Y/N, "so we got a deal or not?" he asks flatly.

Dean says nothing but lightly nods his head. Y/N runs towards Sam, nearly knocking him over with a hug.

"Y/N/N," he smiles. Pulling her even closer to him, he wraps his arms tightly around her back and kisses the top of her head. "I missed you," he whispers.

"I missed you, too," she says, her eyes welling up with tears. Sam looks at Dean just in time to see him press his lips together with an 'I told you so' in his eyes. Sam shakes his head, squinting at Dean just before he lets go of Y/N.

"Kay, I gotta put a bag together," he sighs, "I'll be right back."

He turns to head for the door, and Y/N doesn't take her eyes off him until he disappears into the building. She blinks her eyes and turns to face Dean. He pushes himself off the back of the car and silently heads for the driver seat.

Sam and Y/N sit in the car at a gas station while Dean heads for snacks. Sam opens his door but quickly looks over his shoulder to check on Y/N. This is when he notices the box of tapes sitting next to her. Intrigued, he shifts in the chair and asks her to hand them to him. Y/N is hesitant because it's hard to say how Dean would react, and she's always hated being in the middle of their fights but does so anyway. Sam rests his tongue between his lips as he takes the box from Y/N. Stretching his legs out of the car, he rests the box in his lap to filter through them.

"Hey," Dean says from behind the Impala, his mouth wrapped around a candy bar, "either of you want breakfast?" he asks, holding a soda and a bag of chips.

Y/N waits for Sam to answer first. "No, thanks," he says, glancing Dean's way momentarily.

"I do," Y/N smiles.

"So how'd you pay for that stuff? Three of you still running credit card scams?" Sam says, going back to looking through the cassettes.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean says, putting the gas nozzle back into the pump.

Y/N chimes in, "Besides, all we do is apply," she shrugs, "it's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the applications this time?" he asks, swinging his legs back inside the car and closing the door behind him.

"Uh, Burt Aframian," Y/N answers. Dean gets into the seat, handing Y/N the drink and chips. "Thank you," she chirps.

"And his son Hector," Dean adds, "scored two cards out of the deal."

"Sounds about right. I swear, man. You've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

Dean frowns, nearly offended. "Why?"

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes, and two," Sam holds one up, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead?" he says, dropping them to grab another, "Metallica?" he laughs, "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock," he says as Dean rips the Metallica tape from his hand with a glare.

"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape into the player with a tight smile, "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cake-hole," he says, dropping the empty case into the box. "Isn't that right, Y/N?" he smirks into the rear-view mirror and smiles when he sees her roll her eyes.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam scolds, "it's Sam, okay?"

Turning the volume up, Dean cocks his head to the side, "sorry. I can't hear you. The music's too loud," he says with a slight chuckle.

Crashing a crime scene where police are still investigating is just another Saturday with Dean for Y/N, but seeing Sam's eyes widen at the box of Dean's fake IDs calls attention to how out of the norm this life is. Dean makes wise-ass comments to the cops, as usual, and Sam stomps on Dean's foot. Dean responds by smacking Sam's head as they bicker on the way back to the car, but Y/N can't help but grin from ear to ear.

Even when her brothers are arguing, Y/N couldn't possibly be happier. Today is her first hunt with both of her brothers and the first time in far too long since the three of them had been together for any reason.

They make their way to find Amy, who they learn is the girlfriend of the victim from listening to the cops on the bridge. They stop her while she's putting up missing posters, and after lying about being distant relatives of her boyfriend, they ask if she'd be willing to answer some questions to find him.

… "It's kind of this local legend," Amy's friend says after a few minutes of chatting. Massaging her thumb with her other hand, she continues, "This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean glances over at Sam and Y/N, who listen intently, "Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

At a local library, Dean searches the archive page for any murders on Centennial Highway with no results. Sam shoves Dean's chair, and when it rolls back, he scoots his chair to the computer to take over, earning him a slap from Dean. After replacing 'murder' with 'suicide,' a news article pops up.

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river," Sam reads.

"Does it say why she did it?" Y/N asks, scooting her chair closer to Sam to try and read the screen.

"Yeah," Sam says.

"What?" Dean says with raised eyebrows.

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently, her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing." Sam lets out a breath, "both die," he says in a whisper.

The air grows thick around them, and Y/N frowns. "That's terrible," she says, shaking her head.

"'Our babies were gone,'" Sam reads, "'and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch."

"Hmm," Dean points to the picture on the screen, "that bridge look familiar to you?"

They hit the bridge at nightfall. Crickets sing to water drumming against the rocks as it rushes under their feet. The clouds hang low in the sky, giving the air around them a haze.

"So," Dean says, peering over the bridge at the water, "this is where Constance took the swan dive," he says, leaning against the rail next to Y/N. 

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks in disbelief, looking over at Dean. 

"Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him," Dean shrugs, turning to walk down the bridge. 

Sam turns to follow. "Okay, so now what?" he says, forcing a breath through his nose. Y/N walks right next to him, still scared to let him out of her sight. 

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while," Dean grumbles. 

Sam stops walking, "Dean," he says, raising his hands before dropping them. "I told you. I've gotta be back by Monday." 

"Monday," Dean says, pivoting to make grueling eye contact with Sam, but only turns his body enough that he's still facing the bridge's railing. "Right," he says, shaking a finger, "the interview." The bridge creaks under him as he turns the rest of the way. 

"Yeah," Sam nods. 

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Dean says, shifting his weight between his feet. "You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean asks, the animosity growing with each word. 

Sam shrugs, "maybe. Why not?" 

Dean's voice roughens, "Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know the things you've done?" 

Sam takes a few threatening steps toward Dean, "No, and she's not ever going to know," he scowls. 

"Well, that's healthy," Dean sneers. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you're going to have to face up to who you really are," he says, turning around to continue walking. 

Sam huffs, "Who's that?" 

"You're one of us," Dean shrugs, a hand gesturing towards Y/N. 

"Hey! Leave me out of this," Y/N grumbles from ahead. 

"No," Sam says, speed walking towards Dean, "I'm not like you," he says, turning around as he stops in front of Dean. "This is not going to be my life."

Dean keeps his jaw tight. "Well, you have a responsibility to..." 

Y/N feels the tension rising and tries to plead with them to stop arguing, but they ignore her. "Guys!" she shouts again. 

"To Dad? And his crusade?" Sam scoffs. "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like! And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her," he shakes his head, "Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." 

Dean grips Sam's shirt and swings him around and against the bridge's railing with a clunk at Sam's weight against it. 

Y/N flips around and runs to their side, "Dean, what are you doing? Are you crazy?" She panics. But Dean continues to ignore her as he glares at Sam. 

After a long, breathless pause, Y/N shouts again, "Dean!" 

The misty air is still between them, and even the wind seems too frightened to move. It's as if the world is put on pause.

Dean's eyebrows raise, and he keeps a firm grip on Sam's shirt. Under his breath, he says, "Don't talk about her like that." 

He throws Sam's jacket from his hands and takes a few stabilizing steps backward in one movement. Y/N runs to check on Sam, who shakes her off with an "I'm fine" that sounds muffled compared to the pounding of her heart. A few tears escape her when she looks over at Dean walking away from them, but she doesn't realize she's crying until the taste of salt hits her lips. 

Her eyes return to Sam, shaking her head in disgust that Dean would treat him like that. She knew it had been rough for Dean since Sam left for college, but hell, it's been hard on her, too, and she's not throwing anyone against the side of a bridge!

Dean halts, “Sam. Y/N!” he calls. Y/N turns with a full-body glare, but her eyes widen when she sees a woman in a long, white dress standing on the bridge's railing. The woman looks over at them, and Y/N can see the resemblance to the picture of Constance. The woman's hair and dress sway in the wind, and she keeps her eyes on them as she allows herself to drop from the ledge. 

With a grunt, Sam rushes to the railing to look over it for her, Dean and Y/N not far behind him. 

"Where'd she go?" Dean barks. 

Breathless, Sam pushes out an "I don't know." 

The roar of the Impala's engine turning on startles them, their bodies whipping around just in time to see the headlights flick on. 

"What the-," Dean says. 

"Who's driving your car?" Y/N asks. 

Without taking his eyes off of the car, Dean pulls his keys from his pocket and jingles them, stealing Sam and Y/N's attention to them in unison. The engine revs, drawing back their wide eyes to the Impala. The tires squeal as the car begins to speed towards them. 

"Y/N, go! Go!" Dean says with a hand on each of his siblings, spinning them around to run in the opposite direction. Dean presses his hand firmly on Y/N's back as they run, keeping himself between her and the car. They run as fast as they can until Dean can feel the Impala's breath on his ankles, and he guides them towards the bridge's railing. 

Y/N's heart feels like a brick in her chest, weighing her down at the thought of jumping over. "I can't," she says in a breath, and all in a split second, she feels like her feet are cemented into the bridge's planks as Sam jumps over. "No!" she screams as Dean grips onto her arm, pulling them both over the bridge. 

Sam hangs from the ledge of the bridge, shouting for Y/N as her screams are washed out with a big splash. "Y/N!" he calls again from the back of his throat, climbing up the bridge to get on his knees. He looks over the bridge, scanning for Y/N and Dean, calling out when he sees his brother, "Dean! You alright?" 

"I'm super," Dean grumbles with an outstretched thumbs up. Lying on his back, half submerged in the muddy water. 

"I can't see Y/N! Where's Y/N?" Sam panics, and when the words hit Dean's ears, he springs to his feet in a second. He whirls around in a circle as he searches for her. 

"Y/N!" Dean shouts, wiping mud from his face. He paces around, "Y/N, where are you?" he yells, half-expecting her to pop out from behind a bush to scare him. 

The world spins around him for a moment, utterly void of sound aside from a ringing in his ears as Dean tries to comprehend what is happening. He closes his eyes tight, shaking his head to clear away the fog that covers him. They open onto the water, catching the moon's glimmer reflecting off something. He runs towards it, hopping from rock to rock until he finds Y/N's broken locket stuck in algae. Dean picks it up with shaky hands, recalling how her face lit up when he first gave it to her. She'd be devastated to see its state now. Fear spills down him in an icy chill.

His head swivels around in search of her. Tears, that he refuses to let fall, poke at his eyes when he sees her lying face down in the water, a bloody rock next to her.

“Y/N!” He shouts, rushing to her. He kneels to pull her out of the water by her shoulder, turning her over so that her back rests against his knee. "Y/N!" he yells again, and when she doesn't respond, he grabs her by the waist and hoists her over his shoulder. He grunts, shifting his weight before jogging for the shore. "Sam! I got her!" 

"Dean! Is she okay?" He calls out as he sprints down the side of the hill to catch up to them. The brothers reach the shore simultaneously, and Dean drops to his knees to gently set Y/N on the ground in front of him, Sam following suit. 

"Come on, be okay, be okay, be okay, be okay," Dean pleads softly, placing two fingers on her neck. His heart is beating so hard that he can't tell if it's her pulse he's feeling or his own. "Sam, I can't feel anything," he says. Dropping an ear to her mouth, he adds, "And I don't think she's breathing." 

"Call 911," Sam demands, ripping his jacket off to tie around Y/N's bleeding head wound. He quickly inspects the rest of her body for any bleeding before placing a hand on her chest. Looking up at Dean, who stands frozen, Sam puts his free hand on Dean's shoulder, "now, Dean!" he shouts, shoving him. 

Sam tilts Y/N's head back, checking again for a pulse, a breath, a twitch, a shudder, anything that meant he wouldn't have to perform CPR on his baby sister. He places his hands on her chest, one over the other, pausing in case her heart miraculously started again, but all he feels under his palms is the stillness of Y/N's wet and cold chest. 

Sam begins chest compressions, and the tears he'd been holding back rush out uncontrollably when he feels her ribs break under his palms. It makes him want to pull away, but he forces himself to continue. Dean watches in wide-eyed horror as he gives the 911 operator their location when asked, keeping his free hand pressed against his forehead. 

"Anything?" he shakily shouts at Sam after what feels like hours. Sam ignores him, counting out loud until he hits thirty again. He stops compressions to blow a shuddering breath into Y/N's mouth, watching her chest rise and fall before delivering another. "Hello! Is anybody on the way? My sister is dying here!" Dean shouts into the phone, but all that meets his ears is static. 

"Dean," Sam says with a heavy breath, beginning compressions again. "You gotta take over," he says between breaths. 

Without question, Dean drops his phone to the ground as he falls to his knees next to her, "come on, Y/N," he pleads, ignoring the burning in his knees as he places his hands together on top of Sam's. Sam leaves his hands under Dean's for just one compression before pulling away. 

"Okay, that's ten. You've got twenty more before breaths," Sam says before they count out loud together with every push into Y/N's chest. 

Dean is growing tired by his third round of compressions, but the sirens in the distance electrify him, giving him the energy he needs to continue. 

His face scrunches up as he musters the emotional and physical strength to keep going. Sam hurries to his feet, "don't stop, Dean, you're doing great!" he says with a palm at him. 

"Don't stop," Dean repeats mindlessly, "don't stop." 

Sprinting towards the paramedics, Sam waves his arms, shouting, "Down here! We're down here!" before he knows it, a group of professionals sprint down the hill, the gurney in tow. One takes a story from Sam as one tries to pull Dean away so the other two can take over caring for Y/N. 

"No, I can't stop!" he cries, which grabs Sam's attention, "don't stop," he nearly whispers, hands pumping into Y/N's chest. 

Sam rushes over and lowers himself to Dean's level. "Dean, let go. It's okay, they'll take it from here," he says, grabbing onto Dean's hands to pull him off of Y/N. They watch the paramedics in shock as they cut the shirt, bra, and pants off of Y/N, inspecting her skin. The first responders put what look like stickers with wires attached to them onto her chest and pull out the AED, telling everyone to stand clear before delivering a shock with a beep. Then, there was a pause and the silence that follows is deafening. Nothing. They check for a pulse and call clear again, shocking her. Then, nothing. Again. 

In the hospital's hallway, Dean tries to tune out the surround sound of constant beeping. His elbows rest on his scraped and bloody knees with his head held in his hands. He rocks back and forth, battling with himself. He sheds tears both out of fear for his sister's well-being and of guilt that he did the very thing he promised her he wouldn't: put her in danger.

The clacking of Sam's shoes pulls Dean from his homemade mental Hell. Dean lifts his head, quickly wiping his eyes before grabbing the cafeteria coffee. Sam's familiar smell of motel soap and deodorant washes away the torturous smell of hand sanitizer.

"Thanks," Dean mutters, taking a sip of the coffee before placing it next to him on the cold tile floor. 

Sam's eyes are red and puffy. Dean struggles to comprehend how Sam doesn't even try to hide the tears coming down. He often admires his brothers ability to wear his heart on his sleeve, though he'd never admit it. He wonders who he's being 'strong' for in this moment because it's certainly not himself.

Clearing his throat, Sam pulls his pants up slightly at the thighs before sitting on the bench next to Dean. He glances up at the ceiling momentarily, waiting for the announcement to end before asking, "Any news yet?"

Dean shakes his head. "No," he says in a raspy voice, forcing his eyes to look up and down the hall. "Excuse me," he says, standing to interrupt a nurse before she can enter a different room. "Would you mind helping us find whoever we need to talk to for an update on room 221?" he asks, gesturing to the door he hasn't been able to even look at since arriving.

Her eyes flutter to Sam, then the door, and back to Dean before she somberly nods. "Of course," she says, setting her pen back onto the clipboard as she turns to head in the direction she came.

Dean wants to return to his seat, but his body feels like an anchor. He sucks in a sharp breath. His shoulders tighten into his neck and with weak arms his hands fall to his hips. He hangs his head, clenching his teeth and pulling his face to suppress the tears. Sam jumps up to Stand with Dean, placing a hand tightly on his shoulder.

"She'll be alright," Sam says, not fully believing himself, "she's a Winchester; she has to be." 

Dean quickly straightens himself out because damn it, he's the one that's supposed to be taking care of his younger siblings - not the other way around.

"Sam and Dean Winchester?" a deep voice echoes the hall and they whirl around to greet the doctor. Dean quickly slaps the tears from his face. "I'm Dr. Ferguson," he says, holding his arm up to shake hands with Sam, then Dean. "Let's go somewhere more private to talk."

"We're good here," Dean spits. 

"Very well," the doctor sighs, looking down the hall behind him. He shuffles them closer to the wall and out of the traffic flow. "Well, while we were able to restart her heart, I'm afraid your sister has sustained a substantial injury to the head," he says, "the trauma caused the tissue around her brain to swell quite rapidly, and well, we have her on a ventilator, but," he lets out a breath, "we haven't seen as much progress as we were hoping for. She's technically in a coma right now, but we hope to see her come out of it in the coming weeks." 

"Weeks?" Dean bellows.

"Yes, I'm afraid that's standard recovery time for an injury of this magnitude. Although, we'd be having an entirely different conversation if not for your quick thinking in the field," he says with a tight-lipped smile, eyes jumping from Dean's to Sam's, "it's a long road to recovery, but this is a good start." 

"And what happens if she doesn't wake up?" Sam asks. 

"We will do everything in our power to ensure that doesn't happen," the doctor nods. 

"Thanks, doc," Sam croaks. "Can - can we see her?" he stutters. 

"Of course," he says, pushing the door open with his fingertips, "go on in," he says.  

Sam immediately notices Dean's hesitancy when they exchange a glance, so he nods before taking a few steps into the room. He covers his mouth to stifle a sob when he sees his little sister with a tube down her throat and one in her nose. When he's close enough, he reaches for her hand and sits in the chair beside her, startled by the sound of the door shutting. Dean slowly enters the room, but keeps his distance.

Dean feels like the air is void of oxygen and tells himself to pull it together enough to stand by her bed. "Hey kiddo," Dean says to Y/N with a shaky breath. "God, please be okay," he says, forcing a smile as he grips onto her hand.

The two sit with Y/N for days, only leaving for bathroom trips and snack runs, but when one goes, the other stays, and when one is napping, the other is awake. Dean has grown slightly more self-composed but is still anxious as they stay by her side, even when the nurses come to deliver medications, chart vitals, or empty her catheter.

"Hey, Dean," Sam says, clearing his throat. 

"Yeah," he replies, keeping his eyes on Y/N. 

Sam looks down into his hands, "about my interview-" 

"Wait, what?" Dean says, cutting him off, "you're still gonna leave after all this?" he shouts through a clenched jaw. The chair scoots back in a screech as he quickly brings himself to his feet, "you don't wanna be here when she wakes up?" he asks, aggressively gesturing at Y/N. 

"Dean, we don't even know if she'll wake up," Sam quivers. 

"Man, you are a piece of work," Dean shouts, shaking his head. 

"If you would've let me finish," Sam growls with narrow eyes, "I was going to say that I called earlier… to reschedule it," he sighs, looking back at Y/N, "they were very understanding of the situation." 

"Oh," Dean says, turning on his heels to face away from Sam. He swipes a hand down his face, shaking his head when his eyes open to the white walls of the hospital's room. "Look, man, I'm sorry," he says, palms open and facing Sam. "This just has me on edge." 

Taking a few steps towards him, Sam holds back the urge to get nasty with Dean, telling him he's not the only one feeling 'on edge' about their sister's condition. Instead, he raises his palms and softens his face, "Me too. Believe me." 

By Thursday, Y/N had graduated from a ventilator to an oxygen mask. Though still needing the feeding tube, she's shown glimpses here and there of the Y/N they know and love, but overall, she struggles to remain conscious. The doctors are calling it a 'Minimally Conscious State' and "completely normal with this type of recovery."

On Saturday, Sam heads out for food from a local restaurant at Dean's request - something about them having good pies - but Sam has a sneaking suspicion that Dean needs some time alone with Y/N, and Sam could use the fresh air anyway.

Sitting in the chair beside her bed, Dean holds one of Y/N's hands in both of his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry I failed you, Y/N," he cries. "I should have been protecting you," he whispers, letting the tears fall freely now, "but instead of doing that, I got you into this mess."

Looking up at Y/N's face, he swears he sees a tear slip down her cheek. Despite being convinced he's imagining it, he reflexively draws his hand to wipe her tear away, gasping when it comes back wet. His heart races as he gently stands to get beside her in the bed. "Shh," he coos, wrapping his arm around her.

His eyes fall shut, and he's transported back in time to the almost seven-month period where she would only fall asleep if Dean were right there in bed next to her. Through tears and voice cracks, he sings Hey Jude in a whisper, occasionally reaching over to wipe her tears away.

"I love you so much," he whispers. "I don't know how to live without you," he says, his tears turning into sobs. "Please wake up," he cries, arm wrapped tightly around her, "I promise I'll teach you how to drive if you just please wake up."

~~~~ If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

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[kaitokitty19]

Pandora AU: Home pt. 2

Part 1

This is a Hakukai fic. Kaito found Pandora but became immortal while everyone around him aged. Full synopsis here

Warning: WoT, (physical) age gap, angst

-- Kaito woke alone. The other side of the bed cold as he stretched over, tried and failed to fill the empty space. He remembered going to bed alone last night, too. 

There were two unopened messages in his inbox from Saguru, telling him it was a case and not to wait up. Kaito liked the messages belatedly while brewing a pot of coffee. He was already asleep when they were sent; he wondered since when had he stopped waiting up for his lover.

Lately, Saguru worked overtime a lot. If it wasn’t shareholders meetings at the Hakuba Corps then it was consulting with local and international law enforcement. Not that Kaito didn’t understand. He had watched Aoko wait for her dad enough times to know that patience is always a necessity being around people like Inspector Nakamori and Saguru. And more than anyone, Kaito understood the need to spread his wings unhindered. The older Saguru had gotten, the more responsibility he shouldered. His family business needed him. MI6 needed him. So did Interpol and the Mets. He just thought that… 

Kaito huffed, blowing on the steam rising from his mug. He didn’t even like the taste of coffee, but Saguru did. He missed the essence of him in the morning. 

Well, whatever it was, he was sure it would tide over quickly.

------ “This point of the investigation is most crucial,” Saguru cracked up from poor signal on the other end, his voice apologetic over the speaker, but not enough to quench the bitterness that had started to creep into Kaito’s ribcage, spreading fast like poison. His trip to Prague with MI6 would extend to three weeks instead of just the one – if he was even in Prague at all, so classified was the nature of his work. This hadn’t been the first business trip extension, either. And next week was February 23rd.

“I see,” Kaito echoed from a faraway place, straining to stamp down the need for a screaming match. He was at work, he reminded himself, and the Collection Care and Research department at the Lourve isn’t the most bustling of places – Madeleine from one desk over had already piqued up sensing gossip. Besides, how could he point an accusatory finger at Saguru proclaiming the man heartless when he was out there saving people? He dusted off his poker face and put on a smile, even though Saguru couldn’t see it: “Tough case, huh?”

“Yeah,” Saguru returned, before bidding him a speedy goodbye and ending the call. 

Kaito didn’t hear from him for an entire week afterward.

Ah, just like high school, Kaito thought, returning another day to a dark, deserted apartment, endless strings of days waiting for a presence that is forever absent. He tossed the phone onto his pillow and threw himself onto the bed to look at the gorgeous ceiling moldings, gorgeous tall windows, and gorgeous view beyond the glass panels. Gorgeous and lonely and not much else. 

Kaito had free rein of the house, of course. Even Hakuba's beloved Aston Martin, his unlimited black card were here, liberatingly under his disposal… But the man himself was never around anymore. It was almost insulting. Kaito had started to feel more like a piece of collectible ornament than someone’s partner.

February 23rd came and went. For their anniversary, Saguru sent him rare gemstones and an ancient sculpture he didn’t care for, cakes and sweets he had no one to share with, and a teddy bear from Prague that he wanted to strangle. 

Kaito tried to be understanding. After all, just like Ekoda, Saguru would always come back to him… right?

One month passed. Then two months. At the three-month mark, Kaito sent Saguru a curt text, took an absence from work, and traveled. He bought one-way tickets, hopped from one continent to another and then back again, flying first class, living lavishly, determined to max out Saguru’s stupid credit card – that had to at least get his attention! 

To his dismay, he found the task seemingly insurmountable. And all his provocations received from Saguru was a lackluster “Do as you like.”

------

Kaito ended up where he had avoided for so long: Tokyo. And though he had notified no one of his visit, the moment he stepped through baggage claim, Kaito was greeted by one Koizumi Akako. 

"Not only had your body not aged but you stayed a child mentally,” She scoffed at him from across the table, over her cup of tea. One red, sharp fingernail tapped a slow rhythm onto the ceramic rim. “You really do stay true to your name. Just a KID after all." 

Kaito darted his eyes around, alerted. But Akihabara was as crowded as he remembered it; no one would mind a stranger’s conversation. The corner of Akako’s mouth stretched into a glossy, amused smirk in deep rouge as she watched him fidgeted. Over the years, she had aged gracefully. Youthful skirts and flats traded in for elegant pearls and stiletto. Her outfit simple in details but bold in its cut and its shade of scarlet. There was hardly any pepper in her hair, but he could see faint lines where she smiled. The enchantress was as intimidating as ever.

Kaito, too, had aged himself appropriately with prosthetics. But Akako always had her ways of knowing things. He frowned:

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You are here to run.” She accused cryptically, leaning over into his personal space and narrowing her eyes, “He’s drifting away from you, isn’t he?”

Kaito backed away, crossing his hands over his chest, defensive.

“It’s good to see you, Akako. But I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Akako pressed on as if he hadn’t spoken:

“Why are you waiting? You have nothing tethering you back anymore. No more secrets. Why haven't you run after him?” Suddenly, she pulled back. With her petit teaspoon, the woman stirred her cup of Darjeeling tea once, twice. The swirling liquid barely had time to settle before Akako reached over and dumped the tea into his half-empty cup of hot chocolate.

“Hey!” Kaito yelped. 

Akako ignored him to keenly observe the bottom of her cup. She clicked her tongue and spoke without making eye contact.

“You might have all the time in the world, Kuroba, but the rest of us don’t. Especially him, your White Knight."

A thousand horrid scenarios flashed across his mind. Akako might be a cryptid and an occasional sadist, but he had never known her to joke around with people’s lives. Finally, it was fear that made Kaito bite:

“What am I supposed to do? He won’t talk to me! I don’t know what I did wrong.”

His old classmate looked at him like he was stupid before that crease between her brows eased into an exasperated look. She placed both elbows on the table and laced her fingers before resting her chin on top:

“My, my; are you saying that the legendary KID had no way of garnering the attention of one detective? How awfully out of practice you are.”

Something inside Kaito clicked. A lightbulb lit up. He stood at once, almost clumsily knocked over his chair. 

"Sorry, Akako, I have to go. And thanks!"

He simultaneously apologized and thanked her before beating a hasty retreat. Kaito had meant to check in on the Nakamoris, but it seemed reunion with Aoko would have to wait.

Looking out the window at his disappearing form, Akako could only huff:

"Idiots, the both of them." 

------

The Heist note was sent in two nights before the full moon, to the National Palace Museum of Korea. Kaito spent time making sure the note was perfect, that there would be no chance it could be disregarded as a mere prank, and went through the building blueprint five dozen times. The note’s arrival didn’t cause as much ruckus as he would have liked – people have grown skeptical during his absence. He couldn’t blame them; it had been nearly three decades after all. But, as the saying goes, the show must go on. He just hoped the Black Organization, too, belonged to the group of skeptics.

The target this time was a royal jade seal carved in the shape of a dragon. Once obtained without much challenge from the Seoul Metropolitan police, as a habit, Kaito raised the object toward the moonlight. The moon only cast a dim halo around it. The taste of disappointment was one Kaito found familiar.

Just when he was done putting the gem back, a troop of officers burst into the chamber. Kaito smiled at them and yielded himself over without a fight.

------

The officers didn’t know what to do with him. His ID, fingerprints, and passport were all legit in the immigration database, but his look didn’t match that of someone halfway over forty. He technically had yet to commit any major crime, and, as a legal alien, he was entitled to representation before they could proceed with the investigation. In the end, they threw him into one of those interrogation rooms with a one-way mirror to await further instructions from higher-ups.

He was slouching uncomfortably on his creaky metal chair when a Korean officer unlocked the heavy metal door. In walked Hakuba Saguru, tired and sleep-deprived, but dignified. He still donned that long, tan trench coat, and his height towered over that of the attending police officer. 

Their eyes met. They had not seen each other in half a year at that point. 

At the nod of his head, the officer went to uncuff Kaito. They were led out via the back entrance. In the hallway, Saguru put a black cap over Kaito’s messy mop of hair. Kaito wanted to reach up and take his hand; he didn’t. Instead, he was guided into the back of a nondescript black car while Saguru and the inspector in charge of the case chatted. Before long, they shook hands. His detective entered into the car next to Kaito, and tapped twice on the glass to signal their chauffeur to “drive”.

Just like that, Kaito was bailed out. He was half impressed, honestly. With his affluence and his various connections in the intelligence world, Hakuba Saguru wasn’t a man one could say no to. Kaito bet all the records and footage, too, had been wiped clean.

Their ride from the Seodaemun police station was quiet.

"Well?” He started. Saguru shot him a questioning look, “Say something." He urged.

"What do you want me to say?" Saguru gruffed out; he sounded tired. This was one of those rare moments when he looked his age to Kaito. Sometimes, he often forgot that everyone else around him had aged; Saguru was no exception. They stewed in that silence for long enough that the car stopped before a fancy hotel lobby. Kaito waited until the two of them were alone in the elevator before continuing.

"Oh, I don't know; ‘How did you gain access to the vault?’ ‘Why did you do it?’” He mimicked that sickly sweet voice to the T, “Isn't that what you detectives do? Prodding?"

Saguru breathed out a sigh. Kaito knew that sound. Just when he was about to be rejected and an end was put to their conversation, the elevator stopped, admitting two hotel patrons. They stayed in the background while the two American tourists chatted loudly, the tension thick and palpable.

At the forty-seventh floor, they emerged. Saguru made a beeline for the presidential suite. Kaito followed.

"Why did you do it?" At the door, Saguru’s curiosity finally won over. Kaito felt himself bodily piqued at an opening.

"I was waiting for you to show up.” Saguru had finished unlocking the door and turned to pass him a look of utter bewilderment. “My turn, where have you been."

“This isn’t ‘twenty questions’, Kaito,” Saguru groused, his temper rising, but he did not slam the door behind them, no. Hakuba Saguru is too well-bred for one such action. The door closed with a muted ‘click’. “What if they had shown up? We don’t know the extent of their reach. What if they had got to you while under custody?”

“Hmm… should have been ‘twenty questions’,” Replied Kaito impertinently, “So? Where were you?” 

Saguru gave up.

"All over North America. Argentina. Germany. Then… England, mostly."

"So you've been at home while I..." Kaito bit his tongue. Bit back the hurt. "Why are you avoiding me?" That part came out more of an accusation than a question.

Did I do something wrong? Was left on the tip of his tongue, unsaid.

"I don't know, Kaito, I thought I was giving you space. I don't want to... suffocate you," Kaito’s own word said carelessly months ago was suddenly thrown back at him, ringing in his ears like a piercing slap in the face.

"What the actual fuck, Hakubastard?!” He bellowed, “Is this all this is about?”

"You said it yourself, it’s suffocating building your life around another person. You don't need to feel indebted to me or anything. You owe me nothing.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Now it was Kaito’s turn to be bewildered. Saguru couldn’t meet his eyes. “Fuck, you are!”

“I'm not the same wild-eye high schooler when we met, Kai. I have aged much and I am weighed down by my commitments; you have the privilege of youth and you need your freedom, I get it. I’ll only hold you back."

Kaito barked out a hysterical laughter:

"And whose fucking fault was that? Who wished on Pandora? Who turned me into this freak of nature?"

Saguru cringed away as if burned.

"That's not entirely fair, Kaito."

Hah! Fair! Kaito turned around, found the nearest breakable object, and threw it on the floor. It was a fine ceramic vase. Looked expensive, but he didn’t care. Months of pent-up hurt and frustration were finally let loose and Kaito wanted to go to fucking war. Fuck Saguru. He can afford it. Kaito stomped away. He couldn’t even look at that idiot right now.

Kaito’s tantrum only served to aggravate Saguru further. The man was hot on Kaito’s heels into the next room instead of letting it go like Kaito had become accustomed to him doing.

"I... You...” his words stumbled, anger rendering such a man inarticulate, “What would you have me do, Kaito?! You were shot. You fell from a seven-story building. You were a bloody mess on the pavement. I couldn't even touch you for fear you would crumble under my fingers. The red staining your white regalia still haunts my dream to this day. No medic could have saved you. What would you have me do, Kaito? Watch the person I love die?"

"And now I get to watch mine die? You get to live the rest of your life with the person you love. What about me? I've been 17 for 28 years! Even when you pass away, I'll likely still be 17. And even before that you're already leaving me!"

Saguru staggered. 

“I’m not abandoning you. I’d never…” And just like that, all the fights were drained from his person. Saguru sat down on the edge of the bed, defeated. He was at once very weary: weary of the long flight and the time difference, of keeping himself away from Kaito, of this fight… and now the guilt he carried since that incident decades ago had finally done eating him up. "I didn't know about Pandora then. I'm sorry. I'd have happily traded my life if it meant you could continue living as you were"

"Don't. You. Dare." Kaito grunted out each word. Suddenly, Saguru was seized by the collar of his shirt and Kaito’s face was inches away from his. Blue sapphire alight with furry. He growled, "You made me this way, Hakubastard. You're not allowed to leave me. Ever."

And suddenly, Saguru was being kissed roughly. He hesitated for one millisecond but quickly found that he had no choice but to kiss back. Kaito tasted like desperation on his tongue, and he chased that acute flavor until it mellowed down into neediness. Kaito’s fingers half tangled, half tugged painfully on the hair at the base of his neck; and Saguru looped his arms around Kaito to steady him when he climbed onto his lap. What an intertwined mess they were, physically, emotionally.

Kaito bit him, and Saguru thought he sensed the tangy note of copper. Very well. Served him right for putting his Kaito through what he did. Somehow he always managed to make the wrong decision around Kaito. Logic seemed to escape him when it came to the man he loved.

They detangled at last. Both flushed and gaped for air. But Kaito immediately clung onto Saguru’s neck and tip them over onto the bed. He made no move to remove their coat or adjust them both into a more comfortable position. Right now, he just wanted to hold Saguru and be held. Saguru traced small circles onto his spine. Kaito shuddered.

"I'm sorry.” Saguru whispered lowly after a moment of silence, “I won't do it again. I just thought..."

"Shut up. For a world-renowned detective, you really are just a hebo Tantei."

"Sorry," Saguru chuckled and repeated himself.

Another quiet minute went by before the detective spoke again.

“Since you are so opposed to the idea of us ever leading lives independent from one another again; hypothetically, if I ask you to marry me, would you say yes?”

“Hypothetically?”

“Hypothetically.” Replied Saguru, trying not to think of his family heirloom ring he had kept in his pocket for 25 years, never finding the right time nor enough courage.

Kaito put on a show of deep contemplation – a fact that Saguru knew yet did not help his nerve one bit – before he took pity on Saguru and said:

“Then, hypothetically, I’d say yes.”