#it sounds like a phrase on one of the shirts they wear

[florencemtrash]

Take it Off - Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel have been friends for centuries... but what happens when he wakes up one day to find that things have changed? And how will he react when you start wearing Cassian's clothes?

Warnings: Angst. Jealous Azriel. Suggestiveness and then some (I don't know what warning to put, but it's spicier than my usual stuff is all I'll say). Cassian is an absolute menace... good for him

Author's note: Did I write this to procrastinate editing SSIB Ch 22 after watching Bridgerton S3?... yes

Is this a fucking game to you?

Cassian grinned over the lip of his cup, raising his brow in a poorly disguised expression of confusion. He’d been playing the innocent fool all throughout breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the daggers Azriel was throwing his direction every time he made you laugh.

Internally, he and Nesta were both cackling. He threw his arm over the back of his meta’s chair, plucking the cream puff she held out for him, and tossing it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin. 

I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Azriel. Although it hurts me deeply to see you so upset.

Upset was an understatement. Azriel was holding onto his glass of orange juice so tightly cracks were beginning to form beneath his fingertips. 

You elbowed Azriel in the ribs, brows furrowed as you pointed your slice of toast towards his hand. “Are you ok?” You whispered low and just for his ears. 

The molten anger in his eyes melted away, hazel eyes softening as he took in your concerned expression. You were the first and only one of his family members to watch him so intensely. You could unravel the meaning in every twitch of his jaw, every rhythmic tap of his fingers against his thigh, every flicker of his shadows. You knew when he was upset, when he was happy, and when he wanted to laugh but had trouble expressing it. The only thing you weren’t aware of when it came to Azriel was how unbelievably in love with you he was. 

But that was his own fault. 

You’d watched him fawn over Mor for centuries, watched as he practically crawled on hand and knees for any kernel of affection she was willing to throw his way. Then, when you thought he’d finally gotten over his feelings for her, he’d chased after Elain’s heels like a dog in heat. You didn’t even want to begin thinking about Gwyn and the way she’d trampled over his hopes with the simple phrase, “I love you as a friend, Azriel. Nothing more.” 

No. It was entirely his fault that you’d learned to bury your own feelings for him so deep they’d become background noise — as inconsequential and ever present as the sound of your own breathing. 

Still… you couldn’t help but notice the secrets swimming in his eyes, the hurt and longing there that you could only guess the origin of. Who’d hurt him this time? You wondered. 

“I’m fine.” Azriel whispered, his hands ghosting over your thighs before deciding against touching you there. 

You hummed, clearly unconvinced. You held your toast in between your teeth, tasting the raspberry jam explode on your tongue as you reached over and carefully peeled Azriel’s fingers off his injured glass. 

His heart stuttered at the sight of your lips as they closed around your thumb, licking away crumbs and jam from your fingertips. But then his gaze dropped to your chest and his stomach soured. 

As Madja’s apprentice, you’d acquired a special interest in botany — an interest that had all but shoved you into Feyre’s studio so you could learn the skills necessary to depict all manner of flora and fauna in your field journal. When you’d complained about finding paint and charcoal stains over your clothes, Cassian had jumped on the opportunity to give you his old shirts to use as painting smocks. He had to congratulate himself for the stroke of genius. After all, he and Nesta had been discussing plans on how to get Azriel to admit his feelings for months now. 

Azriel did not respond well to outright suggestions or bullying. If he told Azriel to pull his head out of his ass and ask you on a proper date, the Shadowsinger would only hunker down on his preconceptions that he was unloveable, and that you were far too good for him. If he revealed to Azriel that you’d secretly loved him for decades that would only make him feel even more embarrassment and shame. 

No.

  Jealousy worked far better when it came to Azriel.

You looked comfortable and happy in Cassian’s clothes — a fact that escaped no one’s notice. You had the sleeves rolled up past your elbows, the rows of buttons at your back haphazardly done without wings to accommodate. You’d worn that particular shirt a half dozen times now and replaced any scent of Cassian with your own. 

Still, you were wearing another male’s shirt… and it was starting to drive Azriel insane.

“I was going to get rid of these and thought you might like them for… painting.” Azriel shifted on his feet, holding out the neatly stacked pile of clothes for you. 

You were laying on your stomach in bed, colored pencils and textbooks splayed out around you, but quickly righted yourself and sifted through the piles he handed you.

You held one up for a better look. 

“Azriel, you were just wearing this last week.” It still smelled like him — the scent of the Illyrian mountains at night woven through the soft, cotton material. “I can’t take this. Or this. Or this!” 

“I have more just like them.” 

You huffed, fists balanced on your hips. 

Azriel was a simple male with ample space in his wardrobe. When he wasn’t in his Illyrian leathers he wore the same three outfits on rotation, all of them nearly identical. If there was anyone who shouldn’t be giving away clothes, it was Azriel. 

“I really appreciate it, Az, but I’m ok. I don’t need these. Cassian already gave me enough hand-me-downs to last two decades at least.” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped out. “Well I’m glad for that.” He was practically seething. You noticed, as you always did, but you couldn’t imagine that you were the cause of his frustrations. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Az? You’ve been acting strangely the past few days.” 

“It’s nothing.”

“I doubt that.” 

There were various things on his mind, chief among them you. So he took hold of the olive branch you’d extended him and laid down beside you, talking about everything and nothing at all. But one thing he avoided talking about at all costs was how the gentle scraping of your nails through his hair as he rested his head in your lap made him want to lock the door and never come out. 

He wanted to bury his face beneath your sundress and then tear it to pieces. He wanted to dive under the covers and leave an assortment of marks on your skin. To hold you so close that you began to smell like one another. 

You lay down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder so he caught whiffs of your elderberry and lemon shampoo. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what friends are for.” 

Right… friends. He was starting to hate that word. 

“Yes… I know.” 

How long do you think he’ll last?

Nesta felt Cassian’s soft laugh blow over the back of her neck as they crouched just behind the door of Feyre's painting studio.

Azriel had been undeniably irritable the last two weeks, his patience fraying like a linen skirt with the hem torn off. Cassian was still sporting a bruise on his cheek from this morning’s sparring session after one of his teasing remarks had hit a little too close to home. 

Not much longer. Look at him, Nes. He’s practically vibrating.

Nesta slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter. 

Azriel was restless, his wings kept opening and closing with agitation and the curve of his ears had long since turned a bright shade of pink. He’d had his shadows knock over a cup of ink earlier, sending its contents splattering over your shirt and staining the fabric beyond repair. But you’d only shrugged and said, “It’s my painting shirt. It’s meant to get dirty,” before going back to your canvas with a soft smile. The moment you’d turned your back to him, he’d silently cursed the ceiling. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He kicked himself, too focused on your continuing conversation to think that his meddling brother and sister-in-law might be watching. 

He hadn’t expected his emotions to take over so quickly, least of all with you. You’d been his best friend for over two hundred years. You were a staple in his life, more familiar to him than the childhood blanket he still had tucked away in his drawer. There was no reason why he should suddenly wake up one day and realize with a shock of surprise that he loved you and couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t have you in it. 

It had been such a silly moment as well. You’d been getting ready for Starfall, your hair done up and a flush of color spread over your cheeks and lips. He’d come to check in on you and lost his breath when he saw you sitting at the vanity, holding up earrings to your neck to see if they matched the satin of your deep blue gown. And then you’d politely asked him to lace up your dress and he’d nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise, forcing his hands to stop shaking as they brushed against your spine. Gods he’d wanted to throw himself off a balcony that night, if only because you’d be the one tasked with healing him. 

He wanted to throw himself off the balcony now. Let the ground swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself in front of you… again. 

I give it another week. Nesta declared.

Cassian smirked. I know my brother. He won’t last another three days.

In the end they were both wrong. 

It only took two days for Azriel to finally snap.

“Take it off.” 

You swiveled around in your chair, tongue pressing against your cheek as you wondered what gave Azriel the audacity to march into your private lesson with Feyre and make such an out-of-character demand. 

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows. 

Azriel stood as still as an obsidian statue in the doorway. His wings loomed over his shoulders, talons reaching towards the ceiling tense and twitching. 

“Take. It. Off,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He clutched a neatly folded shirt in his hands, knuckles pale and bloodless from the tight grip. You’d been wearing Cassian’s clothes almost every day this past week and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand sitting beside you at the dinner table or in the library, the laughter in his throat dying when he caught Cassian’s scent drifting off your skin. 

It was maddening the way you didn’t think anything of it. 

Yes, Cassian was practically a brother to you, and yes, he was a mated male but… fuck it bothered Azriel so much to think of anyone else laying claim to you. To think that one day you might actually walk around wearing another male’s clothes because you loved them. To think that that male wouldn’t be him. 

He’d tried to bring up the topic with you in his own round-about way, but you’d shrugged off all his suggestions of wearing something — anything — else. 

“If you want painting clothes, why don’t we go shopping this afternoon? I’m sure Feyre has recommendations. Or we could just walk around the Rainbow until something catches your eye.” 

“I’m not a full time artist, and it seems silly to spend money on clothes you intend to ruin.” 

“Why don’t you ask Feyre or Mor for hand-me-downs then? They’ll fit you better and the sleeves won’t drag so much.” 

“I like it when my clothes are loose.” 

Feyre glanced between the two of you, namely the flare of Azriel’s nostrils and the way he ground his teeth so intently you worried he’d crack a tooth. 

“I’m… going to leave now.”

“Wait—Feyre!” 

The High Lady kissed your cheek, a knowing look in her eyes, before scurrying out the door. 

Don’t scowl so much, Az, you’re making her nervous. She chirped to the Shadowsinger before slipping down the hallway and disappearing. 

She made it all of ten feet down the hall before crowing, “It’s happening!” to the others. 

It’s happening?! Mor leapt out from her bedroom, a robe hastily tied around her waist and soap suds clinging to her hair. “Fey—” she hissed.

Feyre pressed a finger up to her lips, cutting her off. They’re in the art studio now. 

I fucking KNEW IT! Mor squealed in delight, stomping her feet soundlessly into the floorboards as she allowed Feyre to grab her wrist and drag her forward. 

I won the bet, Nes.

You didn’t win, we both lost!

Semantics. 

Why you bas—

Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Cassian, and Nesta streamed into the foyer. There was an air vent here that led directly to the art studio two floors above them and painted over so expertly it may as well have been part of the molding. The sounds traveling through it were muffled by echos and distance, but nothing that fae hearing and magic couldn’t overcome. 

“That’s it!” The chair you’d been sitting in skittered back with a squeak. “What is your problem, Azriel? You’ve been agitated for weeks now. You won’t tell me, or any of the others, what’s wrong and every time Cassian so much as glances in your direction you look like you want to tear his throat out!” 

Azriel said nothing as you stomped forward and dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Whiskey eyes flickered down to your hand — the hand you currently had closed around his wrist — and he shuddered. 

You didn’t even want to begin to unpack the hidden meaning of that response as you brought him to the center of the room and let go. 

He dropped the shirt on the nearby desk, hands lowering to the hem of your painting smock with a grimace. 

“I need you to take this off.” He repeated with a frown.

“What kind of person marches into a room and demands that their friend take off their shirt?” 

He flinched at that word — friend.

“Az!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and his anger. “What is going on with you?!” 

“It’s nothing.” He growled out, but he tugged at the hem like its very existence was a personal offense.

“Clearly it’s not nothing.”

“Can you just take off your shirt and put this one on?”

You shoved him away. It wasn’t even like he was asking you to get naked, you both knew you were wearing something beneath this, but it was the way he was asking that grated on your nerves — like what he was requesting was perfectly normal and you were the ridiculous one for not listening.

“No.” You folded your arms over your chest with a huff. You were just being stubborn now, but you didn’t care. 

His eyes turned tortured and he clasped his hands together in front of you. “Please?” He begged.

“No! Not until you tell me what’s going on and why you’re acting this way!” 

“I don’t want to have this discussion while you’re standing there smelling like another male!”

That was… not what you were expecting.

You gaped at him, unsure whether to howl with laughter, or slap him across the face. 

“That’s what this is about? You’re upset because I’m wearing Cassian’s clothes?” You gagged at the mere thought of what Azriel was insinuating. 

“Well that was a little hurtful.” Cassian mumbled. 

Mor slapped the back of his head. “Shhhhh. I’m trying to listen.”

Azriel shifted on his feet, color beginning to spread high on his cheekbones. “It’s not about Cassian… not really…”

You tapped your foot on the ground, waiting for him to continue. Azriel felt naked. Stripped back like one of your insect specimens lit up beneath a microscope. Your eyes raked over his every movement. Even his shadows, usually so attention-seeking, cowered behind their master’s back whispering to one another about how Azriel might dig himself out of his own grave. 

“Well?” You snapped. 

Azriel shrank back, “I… I like you, Y/n.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I know, that’s why we’re friends. I like you too.”

“No. Not… not like that.” Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh I’m fucking this up so badly it’s not even funny anymore.” 

“I don’t even know what it is you’re fucking up. I—”

“I love you, ok?” He said in a burst of energy.  “I love you and not in the way that friends are meant to love one another and Cassian’s an idiot and I’m a jealous bastard and I… I…” 

You stared back dumbly. “You can’t mean that.” 

Azriel’s face fell. “And why not?”

“Because I have been here for decades, centuries,” you jabbed his chest with a finger, “And you never once looked at me that way. Never once considered me as anything more than a friend. You’re upset because I’ve been wearing Cassian’s clothes the last few weeks? Well guess what, Az, I’ve watched you walk in and out of those doors for years with your poorly concealed hickies and that lovesick look on your face, and I never made it your problem or anyone else’s.” 

“Well I want you to!” He shouted. It was the first and only time you could remember him raising his voice. “I want you to make it my problem, Y/n. I want you to tell me that you love me and I want you to shout at me for all the stupid decisions I’ve made because I’m yours. I’m yours to shout at. I’m yours to get angry with. I’m yours to love if you’ll still have me and…” Azriel gasped for breath, chest heaving as he came face to face with the fact that he’d just said those words out loud. Those words that he’d kept close to his chest with the rest of his secrets. Those words that proved just how completely at your mercy he was. 

Please say you’ll still have me. His eyes begged. 

When you didn’t move or say anything, he felt a piece of his heart wither away. He lowered his eyes, suddenly interested in a speckle of red paint that had smeared under his boot, “Forgive me. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t… I shouldn’t have—” 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” You muttered breathlessly. 

Then you flung yourself into his arms and crashed your lips into his. 

Kissing Azriel was better than you could have ever imagined. The fantasies you’d constructed late in the night when you were lonely blew apart like paper houses, crumbling in the face of reality. His mouth fumbled for purchase against your lips before slotting into place with a strangled moan. He lifted you in the air and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, tightening them until you could feel him harden between your legs. 

His tongue flitted over your lips tasting like oranges and magic. 

But his hands. 

His hands. 

You couldn’t get enough of them as they slid up and down your back, squeezing and pressing into your skin until he’d memorized the curve of your spine. You wove your fingers in his hair, tilting his head so you could stare into his hazel eyes before diving in for another taste. 

He walked you back to the desk, shadows flinging the tins of charcoal and pastel pencils off the furniture so you could perch there instead. Then he surged forward, pressing his hips into the space between your legs so he could feel the heat that gathered there. It sent shivers down his spine.

This… this was everything he’d ever wanted. You were everything he’d ever wanted. Not some unapproachable female he admired from afar but hardly knew, but someone who’d seen every inch of his soul and never flinched. Someone who’d nestled into the hidden corners of his heart and grown there like a willow tree. 

You moved your hands over the wide expanse of his back, digging your nails in to feel every twitch of muscle, every shudder, as he latched onto the side of your neck and slid his tongue over the sensitive skin there. 

He smelled like mountain rain. Like fresh wind and petrichor and sea salt. 

You smelled like lemons and safety. Like maple leaves and lavender and… Cassian.

Because you were still wearing his gods-damned shirt. 

Azriel felt his blood boil, and an instinctual rage took over as he growled low in his throat, bunched the fabric of Cassian’s shirt in his hands, and tore it in two.

You pulled away from him at the sound of ripping fabric, but kept your grip on his solid shoulders as air blew across your skin.

Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips pink and raw as he leaned his forehead against yours in a daze. You continued to breathe each other’s air like you were drowning. He seemed just as in disbelief as you, if not more. 

“Azriel…” You whispered, chest heaving. 

He looked at you with half-lidded eyes full of heat. “... yes, Y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

“I think you ripped through my dress… and my bra as well…” 

“Oh…” He fingered the ruined fabric that fell loose around your shoulders and realized that your back was indeed on full display. The straps of your bra slipped down and the mangled buttons of your sundress clung to their loops by weak threads. “Oh…oh gods.” 

One hand flew up to your chest to keep the fabric in place while the other slapped over your mouth, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst forth. 

Azriel’s ears and cheeks turned brighter than the sun as he slowly lowered you down to your feet, fumbling over apologies like he hadn’t been shoving his tongue down your throat mere seconds ago. 

“I’m so sorry—” 

“Azriel, it’s ok.” 

“No, I was being an ass and now I’ve ruined your dress and—” 

“You can buy me more.”

Azriel’s shoulder dropped. “I can?” “You can.” 

He shook his head very seriously. “Yes, yes you’re right, I—” Azriel had always been the beautiful one — the one that drew eyes when he walked into a room. The one that had females and males falling out of their seats for a proper look at his elegant features. But right now he looked so helpless, so flustered and unsure of himself that you finally lost it. 

Champagne bubble laughs slipped out of your mouth, light and airy, and sent a shock of warmth through Azriel’s chest. It was infectious the way the skin stretched over your cheeks. The light in your eyes couldn’t be contained no matter how hard you tried. 

He couldn’t help himself. 

He started laughing too. 

What began as one of his reserved chuckles grew into uncontrollable peals of laughter that echoed throughout the studio and had you clutching onto the desk for support. 

Azriel doubled over, one hand holding the stitch in his side together as you howled. 

“Oh gods. I can’t—” You hiccuped. “I-I-I can’t breathe.” 

Soon you were both kneeling on the ground, clutching each other’s arms for some semblance of stability. You gasped for breath, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes. 

Azriel captured one of your hands, weaving his fingers through yours before bringing your wrist to his lips for a soft, reverent kiss. You thought you’d experienced enough emotions for today ranging from frustration to anger to a joy you couldn’t begin to put into words. But you were certain your heart could handle one more shift in the atmosphere. 

Wordlessly you tugged off Cassian’s shirt, dropping it to the side where shadows caught hold of the cursed fabric and quickly tossed it into the fireplace. The flames crackled with triumph, eating away at the shirt with a vengeance. 

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” 

“We can agree to disagree.” Azriel murmured, his eyes growing dark and heavy. His gaze drifted down to the soft skin now exposed from your tattered dress, the thin straps clinging to your arms, the gentle swell of your breasts as you breathed heavily. 

His fingers danced over the straps in silent permission, eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But you were open and wanting and desperate for his touch. You crawled into his lap and a faint nod was all he needed before the pale blue fabric of your dress fell down and bunched about your waist. The bra followed, and then you were sitting there naked from the waist up, feeling the heat grow between your bodies as Azriel looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Am I dreaming, Y/n?” He whispered, rubbing circles into your hip bones. 

You smiled softly, “Have you dreamed of me before?”

“Yes. Many times.” He kissed your chest, slowly dragging his hands down your ribs as you shivered and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and then his belt buckle. “But we never got this far.” 

“Hmmmm, I think we could go a little further.” 

“NOT IN MY STUDIO!” Feyre’s voice echoed oddly through the room, sounding muffled and far away. 

Azriel’s wings flared out, hiding you from view as you yelped and pressed your chest against his. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment about being found in such a compromising position. But the door was closed! And so were the windows!

His shadows finally found the culprit in the air vent.

“Godsdamnit—HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING THE ENTIRE TIME?!” Azriel shouted. 

A moment passed before Feyre answered, “... No,” in a much softer tone. 

“We missed part of the beginning,” Cassian chimed in. 

Azriel groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as you were stunned into silence. He muttered something beneath his breath that sounded oddly similar to, “I swear I’m going to kill him one day.”

Azriel helped you to your feet and finally, you put on his shirt. 

“Are you happy now?” You teased, arms dropping to your sides. 

The corner of his lip twitched upwards. You looked… very good in his clothes with the sleeves rolled up and a sliver of your dress (now skirt) peeking out from beneath. 

He looked towards the vent, then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close so he could whisper, “I would be happier if I saw my shirt and that dress of yours on the floor of my bedroom.” 

His hand slid up your skirt, squeezing the back of your thighs in a way that had you stiffening. 

All at once he was second-guessing himself. Maybe he’d taken things too far. Maybe the lust-filled haze had cleared and you didn’t want him anymore. 

You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his wrist, gently guiding his fingers to your core. You let him know just how much you wanted this. 

A roar of blood sounded in the Shadowsinger’s ears. 

“I think that sounds like a very good plan.” You murmured in agreement and his eyes turned black as night.

He stole another long kiss before scooping you into his arms. 

“Az, where are we going?” You giggled into the curve of his throat as he flew down the hallway and stairs. “We just passed your bedroom.” 

“We’re not going to my bedroom.”

“Well we missed my bedroom too.” 

He didn’t respond.

Azriel skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase, already well aware that his family had gathered at the bottom and were waiting to bombard him with questions. 

Azriel smirked at you, leaned down, and kissed your cheek. “When I take you to bed properly, it won’t be with our nosey family members in the house.” He ran his tongue across the line of your jaw all the way to your earlobe and whispered, “I want any noises you make to be for me, and me alone.” 

“You are certainly a man of poetry, Az.”

He smiled. “Only for you.” 

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the two love—” Shadows flew into his mouth, muffling his words. “HEH! Azz! Whazthf—”

“I’ll see you in a week.” He said to no one in particular, his shadows opening the door of the River House. 

“Where are you going?” Mor asked, her eyes zeroing in on the bright red mark blossoming on your neck. What the fuck? She mouthed at you, giving you two thumbs up as Azriel crossed the doorway with you in his arms.

“None of your business. I’ll see you in a week.” Then he looked down at you, eyes growing soft. “We’ll see you in a week,” he corrected himself. 

Your stomach bottomed out, heat flowing through your body as you heard him make such a declaration in front of... well everyone. You couldn't wait to see where he would take you and where he would take you.

"Ready?" Azriel asked, a sultry smile growing on his face.

"Ready."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the hollow of his throat as he took off into the air. 

[thebearer]

making the bed |carmen berzatto x reader| part one

prompt: carmen's stressed. food critics, a newborn baby, balancing work life and married life and now dad life; he's bound to break, everyone knows it. but no one ever thought he'd lash out on you.

or, part one of the devastation fic. based off this ask from the other day. two more parts to come.

contains: mega angst. mega angst, with no resolution in this part. hurt, no comfort (in this chapter, will be later in part 3). mean!carmen, very mean. mom!reader x dad!carmen with newborn teddy. fighting, language, carmen says mean stuff he doesn't mean. past mentions of trauma, family trauma, mikey mentioned. very angsty and a little heavy, please read at your own discretion. word count- 3.5k+.

"Are you ok?"

Carmen now understood why that phrase used to send Donna into such a blind rage, lips pursing and jaw clenching more and more every time he heard it. First at work, then with you, it felt never ending.

It was beginning to feel like critic season with how many were coming in, snooty and demanding to be impressed. It couldn't have come at a worst time, right in the middle of busy season with the start of the holidays. Days at The Bear were filled with frantic panic, running around, making sure everything was perfect, accounted for, and Carmen always had the sinking feeling it wasn't- that he'd forgotten something, messed something up. 

It wasn't rare for him to work himself up like this, a normal that you always warned him about, but he'd always had a solitude. As long as he'd known you, he'd had a place to go, to unwind, to let himself rest and reset with you. And he still did, it was just shared now with a newborn.

Dorothea Michelle. Teddy, for short. The light of his life, yours too. Nearly two months old with a set of lungs that sounded much louder, much more developed than that. Nights were long, sleepless, spent trying to lull Teddy back to sleep, awake even if he wasn't up with her. Carmen couldn't allow himself the selfishness to relax, to rewind, to "take it easy" like everyone told him to. At work, he was the boss; at home, he was a dad.

"Fuck, fuck," Carmen's sleepy stare was broken by a lick of bubbling heat, the lamb's roux popping with the high heat, splashing all over Carmen's chef whites.

"Jeff, c'mon," Tina clicked, shaking her head, moving the pan to lower heat. "What're you doin'?"

Carmen grit his teeth, snatching a rag off the stainless steel counter tops, scrubbing the burgundy stain, huffing when it only spread the stain.

"What happened?" Sydney turned, looking from the burnt sauce to Carmen's stained chef shirt. "Oh,"

"Do we have a spare coat?" Carmen huffed, throwing the rag down with a firm smack against the counter.

"I don't think so, Carm." Sydney shook her head. "You took the last ones home with you two days ago. The wine-"

"-I know, Chef, I know." Carmen snapped, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I-I can't fuckin' serve the critics lookin' like this. With shit all over me- fuck."

"Hey, easy, easy," Richie turned the corner, his hands held up. "What's goin' on?"

"Jeff got sauce over him. He doesn't have any clean clothes." Tina muttered, irritated that she had to fix his mess, more irritated that he wasn't taking care of himself. You have a baby, Jeff, you need to rest and take some time, she'd told him. Carmen only waved her off.

"Okay, okay, hey, that's no problem." Richie's voice raised, lifting over Carmen's. "You go home and change, get your spare, check on my beautiful goddaughter, and then come back with your A game. Yes?"

Carmen didn't even humor him with a snarky remark, yanking his coat off and stomping towards the office to grab his things. Richie and Tina looked at each other, shaking their head gently.

"Kids runnin' thin, T." Richie muttered with a sigh. "He's gonna break. It's gonna be bad."

"Yeah, he is. Gonna wear himself out before then." Tina shook her head. "Jeff needs a vacation." They both jumped at the slamming of the backdoor, Carmen's angry exit shaking the foundation.

"Needs to be fuckin' medicated. Fuckin' lunatic." Richie scoffed, rolling his eyes at Carmen's dramatics.

The drive home was filled with silence, Carmen's iron grip on the wheel, tearing through the traffic towards the house- his house, his home. 

Home, but it didn't provide the same comfort that it usually did. Carmen's shoulders still stayed tense, buzzing with rage, not dissipating when he thought of you, or of Teddy, knowing you'd both be there, excited to see him. 

You jumped at the sound of the car door slamming, peeking out the window to see Carmen's parked next to yours, furiously stomping up the front steps. You frowned, grabbing the baby monitor, walking towards the front door.

Carmen nearly hit you with how fiercely he flung the door open. "Woah," You reached for the door, stopping it before he could flick it shut. "Carm, don't slam it. Teddy's asleep. I just got her down." You frowned at him, shutting it slowly.

Carmen looked at you but didn't speak, looking through you with a rage that had your spine tingling before he finally broke his gaze, stomping towards the laundry room. "Carm? What’re you doing home? Don’t you have dinner soon?" You hesitated slightly, lingering in the doorway with an uncertainty you hadn’t felt with Carmen before. 

Carmen didn’t answer, his jaw still ground tight while he rummaged through the clean clothes, carelessly unfolding and shifting the folded clothes.

"Carmen," You said more firmly, caching his gaze. He didn't speak still, just stared at you- through you. "Are you ok?" You lifted a brow, features softening in worry.

Carmen paused, eyes closing, shoulders tensing in agitation. Are you ok? His ears rang, a familiar rage that he hadn't felt in years bubbling up deep in his chest. Frustrated and blinding and rampant, heat rushing through his veins, pulling himself further and further from reality into someplace different- someplace darker in his mind. 

"What's wrong?" You pressed, he could barely hear it, ears ringing at your question. "Did something happen? Did the critic come-"

"-Where's my chef whites?" Carmen barked, cutting you off, his chest tightening more and more with every heavy heave of his chest. You flinched at his tone.

"Uh, I-I haven't seen the whites. I washed your white tee-"

“-You what? Y-You what?” Carmen spat, eye widening with a wild, raged glint in his eye. Your stomach flipped and fell with fear, stepping back instinctively. 

“I-I washed your tee, Carm, that’s all that you left in the laundry basket-” 

"-Are you fucking kidding me?" Carmen boomed, his head spinning, body buzzing with rage. Your breath hitched, frozen in fear at the anger in his tone, the roar of his voice bouncing off the walls, echoing through your ears in a painful drum. 

Carmen moved, snatching the dirty clothes basket, dumping it into the ground with a shake until the dirty chef coat fell on top. He gripped the basket, flinging it across the room with a hard throw. The final push to his bad mood that sent him right over the edge, crashing into a pit of blinding fury, aggravation, breaking him from the inside out.

"Fuck!" Carmen roared, his voice shaking the walls, your breath leaving your lungs in a trembling exhale of fear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! This is- This is- Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” 

You tensed in shock, gripping the baby monitor in fear, maybe surprise, as it started to buzz to life with Teddy's startled whimpers. Her small cries pulled you out of your frozen state, something deeper than fear replacing the ache in your stomach. 

"Carmen-" You gaped, voice wobbling with uncertainty, taking slow shuffled steps towards the stairs. “Carmen, calm-calm down. Ok? Calm down.” 

“Calm down? You want me to fuckin’ calm down?” Carmen sneered, an angry red flush blossoming in splotchy deep hues up his neck, towards his cheeks. “You don’t do shit, nothin’ that I fuckin’ ask for! Just sit around all fuckin’ day an-and I’m supposed to calm down?” 

“Carmen,” Your voice wobbled, throat tight with tears, hurt and fear strangling your words. “I-You didn’t ask me to wash them. I-I didn’t know. They weren’t in the hamper-” 

“-I shouldn’t have to ask you to wash them!” Carmen roared, eyes so wide you thought they might pop right out of his head, neck vein protruding on exemplifying his rage. “You know what I’m going through! You know how much fuckin’ stress I’m under! I go to that-that shit hole, an-and work my fuckin’ ass off so you don’t have to! Then I come home, and I-I can’t even get a second of peace!” 

“Stop,” You hiss, finally regaining your composure, his words fully sinking into you  now, feeling the full effect of them. “I-I just had a baby. I’m still on maternity leave taking care of a baby- our baby, and I’m tired too. But I’m not yelling at you-” 

“-Oh, right. Right.” Carmen laughs sarcastically, humorless as he runs his hand down his face. It felt mocking, left you feeling small and too vulnerable for your liking. “Because in between your napping an-and feeding, you couldn’t stick a fucking jacket in the wash, right? You’re so busy.”  

“What is wrong with you?” You snap, hoping he can’t hear the tears in your voice, the way your voice shakes with emotion. 

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?” Carmen scoffs, throwing his hands out. “I get no fuckin' sleep, go work my fuckin' ass off, a-and then I come home so I can go back and work my ass off some more, and-and you can’t do one simple fuckin’ thing? You can’t help me out? And then you wanna know what’s wrong with me? When you sit on your ass all fuckin’ day-” 

Teddy’s piercing wail pulls you out of your shocked trance, nose and throat burning with hurt filled tears you refuse to shed. Instead, you turn, climbing the stairs on shaky legs, the sound of Teddy’s cries growing louder and louder. Anchovy watches you from the top of the stairs, sensing the tension, your upset, sliding against your leg as if to comfort you. 

Carmen scoffs, hands buzzing and trembling with rage, the ringing in his ears growing louder and louder with each of your footsteps on the stairs and down the hall. He can barely hear Teddy’s sobs, hands threading through his hair, pulling at his scalp. He sees you walk towards the bedroom, quickly, hugging Teddy to your chest. 

“Oh, don’t go fuckin’ do it now!” Carmen roared, your ignoring him only infuriating him further. “It won’t be ready in time now. I’ll just look like a fuckin’ idiot for the critic tonight! Not that you care! Why would you, huh? I-I mean just our livelihood, just our fuckin’ income!” 

You swallowed back your tears, head tilting towards the ceiling, hands shaking with every shove of your things into the overnight bag. Just enough to get you through the night, the next day. A few essentials, Teddy’s spare onesies, a charger, your wallet- you stopped mid-shove of your items into the weekender bag, the sun’s rays catching in your wedding ring. Your heart fell, more and more, you weren’t sure how that was even possible. 

Carmen’s furious voice was still booming from downstairs, ringing and shaking in his furious fit. Richie and Sugar both warned you about Carmen’s tantrums, brought them up to embarrass him, tease him about it until he was red faced and hissing hushed threats at them. You never, never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be on the receiving end of one. 

You jumped, another slam of something Carmen had thrown, maybe hit in a fit of rage, causing Teddy to wail louder, Anchovy skittering nervously away. Tears leaked out of your eyes, twisting the ring off your finger, setting it on Carmen’s bedside table. Pulling the carrier out of the closet, Anchovy got in much easier than usual, which you were thankful for. 

Carmen was gripping the marble of the countertop when he heard you again, walking from the bottom of the stairs, quick steps towards the door to the garage, Teddy’s voice nearly hoarse from her crying. You kept your head high, tunnel-visioned towards your car, ignoring his heavy breathing and frantic pacing. 

“Wha-What are you doin’?” Carmen’s voice was softer now, still with a jagged edge that was cutting and harsh. The car door opened, the baby carrier hooked into the car seat. 

“Hey, wha- what are you- where’re you goin’? What’re you doin’?” Carmen’s heart dropped in a damning rush of hour, stumbling on heavy legs towards the garage. You ignored him, shushing Teddy gently, running a calming hand over her wet cheek, trying to coax her paci into her mouth. 

“Baby, no-no, no. Hey, no, I-I- What-” Carmen’s chest felt tight, mind numbing and racing, stuttering nervously. You reached for your bag, his hand reaching to grab the strap. “Whe-Where’re you-”

“-Don’t touch me.” You hissed, teeth bared, eyes shining with tears. Carmen flinched, pulling his hand back like he’d touched a hot stove. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me.” You sneered, pinning him with a watery glare that had his stomach turning in sickening fear. 

“Baby, hey, w-wait-C’mon, d-don’t-You don’t, you don’t need to do this, ok? I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Carmen choked out the words, frantic and unsure, his hands shaking when they ghosted over you back just for a moment. Wanting to touch you, to hold you, to grab you and keep you from leaving, but too scared to. Instead, he grabbed the car door you flung open, holding it when you tried to yank it closed. 

“Let go.” You hissed, sniffling back wet, snotty tears of fury and hurt. 

“Please, don’t-do-don’t do this. Please, baby, I-I’m sorry.” Carmen begged, blue eyes deepening with the burning red hues of tears, bloodshot and lashes wet. “Don’t-Don’t do this-” 

“-I didn’t do this.” You sneered, leaving Carmen flinching at your words. “Don’t you dare try to say this was me. After how you just talked to me? The shit you said to me in there? You think I’m going to stay?” Your voice cracked with emotion, lips pressing together to keep a cry in. 

“No, no, no, no, no, baby, please. Please, ju-just come inside. Come inside, please? Please, don’t-” 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that. To say that kinda stuff to me. That hurt, Carmen. That was mean.” You glared at him, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes. “I don’t care if you’re stressed. I don’t care what’s going on- nothing, and I mean nothing, warrants you talking to me like that. Just because you fucked up, because you forgot to ask me to do it, because you’re stressed out- I don’t care what it is. You don’t talk to me like that, say those things when I’ve been home all day taking care of my ch- our child.” You nod back towards the sniffling baby, whimpering and crying half heartedly, her little eyelids drooping with sleep that was interrupted. 

Carmen felt sick, his knees tightening in fear, he was sure they might give out, that he might fall to the ground right there. Looking at the tiny baby, lip jutted and shaking in the mirror hooked on the back of the seat, then back at you, eyes red-rimmed and glaring at him with a hurt filled anger. 

“Don’t-” Carmen’s chest shook, a white-knuckled grip on the door. 

Your own hand curled around the door’s inner handle, yanking it away from him. “Move,” You hissed, pulling again. 

Carmen wasn’t sure why he let it go, why he let you shut it, locking the door in case he tried to open it again. Why he let you pull out of the driveway, why he didn’t stop you, why he didn’t run after you, only taking soft shuffles down the drive like a zombie as you drove away. Standing in the drive, Carmen swallowed down the spit that pooled in his mouth, stomach churning, sure he was going to be sick. 

He managed to trudge back to the garage, mind racing and far away, the ringing in his ears dulling but still deafening. It felt like he was in a dream- a nightmare, a hallucinating trance that felt like a sick, sick dream- Carmen was hoping it was. That he’d wake up and find you next to him asleep. That he could hug you, pull you into him, nose buried in your neck, still warm from your slumber. 

As the sun began to sink low into the sky, minutes turning into hours that Carmen sat motionless in the garage, staring in a trancelike state, he realized that this wasn’t a dream or a nightmare. No this was his reality, a horrific reality that he’d made into his own. Carmen sat, eyes trained on the concrete of the garage, voice racing and blending in his mind- his words, yours, Teddy’s cries, Natalie and Richie’s, flashbacks of his mother screaming fits. 

He didn’t move, frozen in chilling, eerie fear. What ifs and terrifying possible scenarios, consequences to his own actions that left him feeling sick, hands trembling. A spiraling of fears that only drug him deeper and deeper with every haunting replay of his outburst. Even the flashing of headlights turning into the driveway, filling the garage with light, didn’t pull him from his trance. 

“The fuck is he- Cousin!” Richie roared, laying on the horn. Carmen didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge that he heard it, only stared. Richie frowned, turning the car off, throwing the door open. 

“Cousin? Carm? What-What are you doin’? Dinner service started an hour ago. Syd is freakin’ the fuck out.” Richie threw his hands up, walking towards the man who still didn’t move. Richie’s heart skipped, flashbacks of Mikey flooding into his vision, parallels of the two brothers blurring before him. 

“Yo, Carm, you-you good?” Richie stepped into the garage, his spine tingling with icy fear. It was quiet, an eerie, unsettling quiet. “Cousin, hey, what-what’s wrong?” 

Carmen's chest rose and fell, tighter and tighter. He was suffocating, head spinning and mind racing so fast he felt light headed. He could barely hear Richie’s voice over the noise in his head, Richie’s hand shaking his shoulder finally breaking his trance enough to meet his eyes, rounded in fear filled question. 

“Carmen, what’s wrong? Is it- Don’t fuckin’ tell me it’s the baby. What the fuck is goin’ on-” 

“-She left.” Carmen’s voice shook, raspy and scared. His tongue still felt too thick, head still spinning. He wasn’t even sure he said it, Richie’s widening eyes the only thing confirming that he had said it. 

“What? Who-Who left? Who?” Richie looked around, like the clues might be there, sure that Carmen wasn’t talking about you. No, he wouldn’t- he couldn’t. Not you. 

Carmen’s breath hitched, a strangling of a sob caught in his throat, running his hand over his face. Richie didn’t miss the way it trembled, shaking even as it rested over his eyes. Your car was gone, the house too quiet, no baby Teddy crying, nothing but silence was left. 

Richie’s heartbeat crawled into a rapid, scared pace. “Why? Wh-Why would she-” Richie looked at Carmen, eyes wide but still, reading his expression. “No. No, Cousin, no. What-What did you do? Carmen,” Richie grabbed both his shoulders, shaking him lightly until he met his gaze. “What did you do?” 

Carmen’s face began to crack, behind his eyes, Richie could see flashbacks of something- something he didn’t know what, but whatever it was, it was painful. That was evident by the fear that glossed over Carmen’s eyes, realization and horror. Carmen’s shoulders shook, frame rocking with a sob he tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Deep cries, guttural sobs breaking out of his frame, heels of his hands pressed to his eyes, fingers curled and clenched around his greasy curls in agony. 

The damning realization flooded over him, that you’d left. 

You’d left, you’d taken Teddy, taken Anchovy- you’d left because he’d driven you away. His angry outburst, petulant, mean, hurtful- he’d been so cruel to you. You. His wife, the love of his life, mother of his child, the one person who loved him endlessly without stipulations or boundaries, the one person who truly understood him. 

And he’d driven you away. 

He wished he could blame his mom, his dad, his family for fucking him up so severely, maybe Mikey, even, for leaving him the shit show that was the restaurant, making his anxieties worse and fuse shorter. But sitting in the empty garage, Richie standing above him in silent shock, his sobs and angry sniffles echoing off the cement floor, Carmen knew he had no one to blame but himself. 

He’d fucked up. Really fucked up. Fucked up in a way that made all the other times look obsolete. 

Carmen had fucked up, and for once, he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t avoid it, ignore it, deflect it like other times. Half hearted apologies and promises of change wouldn’t work, you weren’t here for him to even try to give them to you, and he didn’t know where you went. 

Carmen wasn’t sure where you went, how to fix this, why he’d done what he did, and a million other things that raced through his mind. What he did know, sitting in the too quiet garage, chest stuttering with heaving cries, was that he’d do anything. 

Anything, to get you back home. To make it right. To fix this and make it up to you. 

He wasn’t sure how, but he’d give up everything. Anything. His restaurant, his dreams, his hopes, his life, at this point, to make it up to you. 

[doki-doki-imagines]

wc: 10k (next time I write this much shoot me down from the start) author note: wrote this to celebrate one year since I have been writing for bllk! Since my first post was about Sae I thought to celebrate with a fic about him. If you know me a bit, you know Sae is far from being one of my faves so I feel like a clown writing this much for him sob.

tw: none. 10k words of fluff more or less.

If you like my writing consider supporting me on ko-fi!

You are sitting on an iron bench, wet from head to toe, with no way to protect yourself from the incessant rain. Your makeup is ruined and tears can’t be discerned from the droplets of rain running down your face.

You look desperate and there is no need to look at your face to understand that, you supporting your head with your hands is enough, crouched on yourself, sighs sound dulled by the downpour.

“You look pathetic.”  It’s a familiar voice, one that makes your skin crawl and now increases your heartbeat to dangerous levels. You look up and you see him, in all his cold beauty. He is wearing a brown boiled wool coat, underneath a turtleneck black sweater peaking out. He is looking down at you, like a high-class rich when he sees a snotty kid, the grey umbrella covers a bit his face, but those ice irises pierce your figure anyway.

“Sae-“ You whisper out your voice full of disbelief and shame.

But how did you find yourself in such a miserable situation? We have to go back a bit.

One year ago

You have never been a fan of parties, they can be a good way to unplug your brain for a bit before going back to normal life. But after a while you need a break, the music and sweaty bodies overwhelm your senses. Your friend Elisa stays back, a guy caught her attention but she asks where you’ll go, in case she won’t see you for long.

You go outside, the cold breeze of winter hits your naked skin making you shiver, but at least you can now breathe. There is nobody else outside other than you and a red hair sitting on the small brick wall on the opposite side of the entrance. You decide to sit there too, at a safe distance not wanting to bother him but close enough to start a chat in case you stay there a little longer than needed.

You look around a bit, breathing in and out while you notice the leaves moving and bushes filled with trash. It’s not a great sight and for sure straining your sight for that doesn’t seem a good idea, so your eyes fall on the stranger sitting next to you. He is now checking his phone, red strands framing his face. You notice his long lashes, it’s always guys that have the crazy luck to have doe lashes, the lower ones touching the apple of his cheeks. He looks young, but he has a mature aura around him, an idea that comes from both his posture and his clothes. The sky-blue shirt he is wearing must be crazy expensive-

“Can you stop looking at me?” You widen your eyes, now comically big.

“You mean-“ You point a finger towards yourself, but you can’t finish the phrase that the guy snaps back.

“Yes, you. Stop looking at me.” He finally faces you, his teal eyes staring at you as you’d do with a cockroach; the same amount of disgust.

He stands up now in front of you “You must be the friend of my physiotherapist, right?”

You nod. After all, it is thanks to her if tonight you are here, at a party full of famous football players and hot beyond imagination models…you must stick out like a sore thumb.

“I guess you recognized who I am. Please, stop. I don’t want to know you, I don’t have time for a relationship.”

Your mouth is wide open.

“I don’t know who you are-“

“Yeah, sure. I have to go now. Don’t follow me.” He doesn’t even wave back, he just gives you his back and walks away.

You have never felt so angry in your life, and you had to deal with a lot of assholes to reach this point in your life.

You stomp inside, searching for Elisa to ask what the fuck is wrong with people and you find there, the guy from before still next to her but there are also other guys and girls and him. The first reaction is to walk away, possibly closing yourself inside the bathroom until they finished chatting or, at least, that guy walked away, but luck isn’t on your side your friend already waving at you signaling to go sit with her.

There is just your friend's body between you and that guy, but this time it’s your eyes that throw daggers at him every time he just even breathes your way; he doesn’t seem to care and it angers you even more.

“Oh let me present you to Sae! He is the football guy I work for!” She said looking at you with a smile that goes from one ear to the other, alcohol playing crazy tricks in her mind not to notice your cracked mood. You extend your hand, trying to be a decent person and you see him sighing. Why punching idiots is not acceptable in modern society? Maybe because you probably wouldn’t be able to stop, after hitting that ugly mug the first time.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Sae.” Your smile is fake, but you think you do a good job of hiding your feelings. The handshake is short, but while you tighten the grip to show you aren’t a weakling, the red hair slips his hand away the second your palms touch.

“Call me Itoshi.”

“Mh? Is that your name?”

“No, it’s my surname. I don’t like strangers to call me by my name.” He replies, back now hitting the red sofa of the club, looking somewhere on the dancefloor, probably at the butt of some dancer.

You look straight into the eyes of your friend and something finally clicks in her mind because you see cold sweat forming on her forehead after the interaction you had with Sae. No, wait. Itoshi.

“Well, guys-“ She claps her hand “it’s time for us to go, thanks for having us.” She stands up and you follow while she finishes to say goodbye to her colleagues. “See you tomorrow, Sae. Don’t exaggerate with drinks!” It’s clearly a joke, her tongue pokes out and Sae smiles back at her.

He would be cute. If only he isn’t such a shit. Your heart almost jumped with joy when the corner of his lips turned upwards, but your brain, thankfully reminded your body how he treated you a few minutes ago.

The walk towards your friend’s car is silent, the people inside the club making enough noise. Your silence gets broken when you enter the vehicle, before your friend can turn the engine on she stares at you.

“I leave you alone a few minutes and you get in a catfight with my client, really?” There is no real anger in her voice, knowing her position isn’t in danger. So you explode at her, telling her chapter and verse of what happened between you two.

“Is he always such an asshole? I feel sorry for you, I hope he pays you enough.” Your friend’s head hits the headrest, and a loud bubbly laugh escapes her mouth.

“Is he worse? Fuck maybe you should change job-“

“No, no. It’s that I invited you tonight because I hoped you could get together in the future.” Her voice is often broken by laughter and finally, anger free, you remember that she probably has drunk too much.

“Let’s switch, you are drunk.”

“No, c’mon. Sae is usually nice! He is a bit cold, but I thought a partner, or just a friend-” and it’s not hard for you to imagine he has nobody to talk with, every time he opens his mouth it’s the same as having two fingers in your eyes “You are also single, so I thought it could work out!” She slaps your shoulder and keeps giggling and now you are sure that you need to be the one to drive you both home.

“Don’t ever leave your job, you suck at playing Cupid-“ You giggle too, finally switching places and driving you both home.

The drive is filled with useless chatter, your friend seemed really into that dude of before, Leonardo is his name? Tomorrow with a more lucid mind you’ll dig more into your friend's new crush.

And you hope you’ll soon forget about that asshole of teammate too.

8 months ago

 When you return home after an intense day of work, the bare minimum you request is complete relaxation. No parties, no worries, no discussions; it’s the perfect way to welcome the weekend.

What you don’t want is to get jumpscared before you can even step in, a certain teal-eyed dude the first thing your eyes see.

“Fuck!” You are tempted to close the door, maybe it’s all your imagination and when you reopen he, the Itoshi, won’t be there anymore. But you don’t live in a fantasy world, sadly, so you know you’ll have the accept your fate.

“What happened?” It’s your friend’s voice screaming from the kitchen.

“Nothing, I’ve just seen a cockroach.” You reply with a monotone voice, closing the door with your foot.

You look better at the intruder, sitting on your couch. One hand has the remote, zapping between the channels, the other lying on the top of the furniture, fist keeping up his head.

He turns to look at you “Did you see yourself in the mirror?” And the sudden urge to hit him with the house key pervades your body. You groan at his comment, but decide to drop the topic; you have no energy to get angry.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t tell you before but Sae is staying with us this week. His apartment is flooded and all his teammates couldn’t help him out.” She comes into the living room with a bowl of…freshly cut vegetables? You suppose it was your guest's request, as much as Elisa likes carrots there is no way this was a choice born from her brain.

Now you know why she didn’t tell you anything about it. You would have taken a hotel room and made Elisa pay for it if you knew what was going on. He, at least, thanks her and it surprises you because you thought he didn’t know what manner are. Or common courtesy.

“I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” You sigh, your mind already adjusted to the idea of having that dude in your house. ‘It won’t be forever. Calm down. Don’t shout, don’t get angry.’ You repeat to yourself while wearing the comfiest pj in your wardrobe; you need it.

When you go back into the living room the film was already chosen, but you don’t mind, so tired that you know you’ll fall asleep the moment your head hits the pillow. The chat gets louder and definitely pick your interest.

“We both go to medical field universities! I finished my studies at home and as you know I work here, but-“ Elisa points her index finger at your figure, a fluffy cover hiding your body all crouched up on a side of the couch not to touch, or just get near, the guest “She is still studying to become a doctor! She will stay here one year and then she will need to go back home to finish her studies, right?”  You nod at your friend's words, now looking at the film.

“The film isn’t bad.” You whisper, humming in agreement.

“It was my choice.” A deeper voice replies back, it’s Sae.

You look at him until you meet his teal eyes. You see an equal amount of tiredness in his eyes and you seem to silently agree not to sassy reply back.

You are able to look at the film without falling asleep, at times you can feel Elisa asking stuff to Sae but you are too distant to understand what they say.  There is a pang of jealousy that stabs your heart, usually, you chat with Elisa while watching films and you don’t like the idea of being substituted by him.

You try to brush away the feeling. Maybe she is the one who has a crush on him, and even if you think she has questionable taste you won’t put yourself against their love. You yawn the second the end credits start to roll. You decide to go to bed, since you have no strength to add yourself to their pillow-talk, in the shared room you have to Elisa.

“I’ll come soon too.” She whispers while you nod, walking away; probably she wants a moment with her crush. You don’t even hear her opening the door, your brain voyaging dreamland the second your head hit the pillow.

You are the first to wake up in the morning, you step toward the kitchen trying not to wake up your roommate, and start to prepare coffee for the both of you. You are so used to making it that it becomes an automatism. It’s when the moka is on the fire that you start to look around, noticing a package that definitely wasn’t yours or of Elisa.

“That’s mine.” You hear croaking behind you, the sound makes you jump on your place.

“Yeah, it seemed pretty obvious. What is it? Some kind of tea?”

“Yes, it is salted kombucha tea. Want to try it?”

You snort and Sae looks at you questioningly, probably thinking his pronunciation is wrong.

“I hate tea. I’m team coffee.” You say pointing with your thumb to the moka, now gurgling a sign that your coffee is ready. Sae looks at you with disgust, a face you know pretty well by now.

“We are really different.”

“I was thinking that too.” You say now giving him the back to take the cups on the high shelf, a spoonful of sugar in your cup, nothing in Elisa's one.

Meanwhile, he has moved, opening the window of your kitchen. Summer is starting but the weather is still acceptable, morning breeze is a nice way to freshen the house.

“You want to make your own tea or I can do it for you? Do you trust me?” You say smirking, already knowing the answer.”

“I prefer to make it myself.”

You nod, a Chesire smirk plastered on your face. You point out where he can find the kettle, now sitting on the table, right next to the window, your head supported by your right hand.

He soon sits in front of you with his cup of tea, he looks outside for a moment, giving you the possibility to admire his features again.

He has a nice jaw, his skin is pretty smooth, probably he doesn’t have much beard, his upper lip is arched perfectly, his lips plump but not too big or better, they suit his face. His nose is slightly pointed upwards-

“You like to stare.”

Your head slid comically; you got caught, again.

“It happens when I look at beautiful stuff.” Really, the comment slips from your mouth before you can bite your tongue. But you feel him choking on his tea and it soothes the pain.

“You are also bold.” He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, with such hatred in his eyes you almost worry to have done something way worse than throwing a compliment in his way.

“I just like to joke around.” You smile in your cup, a smile that grows wider when his eyebrows comically drop.

You hear him clicking his tongue, but you don’t say anything more.

You both finish your beverages, but Elisa is still sound asleep.

“Shouldn’t you wake her up?”

“Today is her free day, let her relax a bit.” You reply, putting his cup into the dishwasher.

You see uneasiness in his eyes, there is something he needs to tell you, so you make the first move as a good host.

“Is there something you need?”

“Usually I do yoga and meditate. Can you go out.” He formulated it as a request, but it sounded like an order in your ears.

“Can’t you do it in the living room? Or your bedroom?” You propose.

“My bedroom is too small. There are no windows in the living room and I’d prefer to breathe fresh air.”  You nod, his reasoning makes sense and there isn’t else you need to do in the kitchen.

“Can you teach me?” You propose half to piss him off, half because you suffer from terrible neck pain and you know yoga could help you out.

You notice how bad he takes it and you bask in the sensation of being finally able to take a rise of him.

“Don’t you have to go to university? Or I don’t know, student stuff?” He says it fast and makes you chuckle.

“It’s too early! I have all the time of the world now.” You get near him, trying to muster up the nicest puppy eyes ever done “I swear I’ll be a good student and won’t joke around.”

“No.”  Your nice façade drop.

“You are a real pain.”

“Look at yourself before saying that.” He looks at you with the same eyes as your encounter. The best choice is to leave him alone, and you do, but not without grumbling.

When you enter your bedroom Elisa is wide awake, already dressed for the day reading a book, a fantasy you guess knowing her taste.

“Mh? Elisa why are you here? You didn’t want to have breakfast with Mr. Sourpuss?” She clearly didn’t notice you entering the bedroom. She closes the book and smiles at your comment.

“I didn’t want to bother your bonding time.” She sing-sangs, book placed on the night table.

“Is this a way to force me to like your new boyfriend?”  Your eyes pierce her figure, muscles tense, trying to grasp any twitch or wince on her face. But nothing comes, if anything she replies to you with a pure laugh, not a fake one.

“I don’t see Sae that way, you dunce-“ Elisa stands up, hands now on your shoulders shaking you “I really think you can get along, please give him a chance.” She says exasperated.

“Tell him that, he is always an ass with me, and please-“ You say removing her hands from your shoulders “Stop playing Cupid, it’s really not your job.” You go towards your wardrobe ready to change for the day while Elisa keeps whining but no words get registered in your brain.

You don’t see anybody for lunch, so you spend a quiet afternoon at home, reviewing your notes and refreshing the lesson of the previous day.

Elisa is the first to come home, there is still light outside thanks to the longer summer days and she helps you out cooking dinner.

“We have to cook something healthy, you know-“ She winks “For our guest.”

Damn, for a second you forgot about him. “Shouldn’t he cook? So we are sure to prepare the right stuff.”

“I don’t know how to.” You hear from the living room, it’s his voice. You walk to the living room and you see him, freshly showered you guess from the soft soap smell coming from him and with two bags containing what you guess is food.

“I asked my private chef to cook for all of us.” He says placing the bag on the coffee table in the living room.

“Thanks, Sae!” Elisa says “Let me take these to the kitchen, I’ll prepare the table.”

“Do you need help?” Elisa brushes off your question “I know how to put a tablecloth and cutlery.”

To you, it sounded like an excuse to make you stay alone with the redhair.

“Thanks, Itoshi.” You hate how his surname rolled on your tongue, but you had to accept it.

He nods, removing his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. You don’t miss to notice how at home he already feels; for sure he has good adaptation skills.

“So, how was your day?” You try to small chat, to break the unbearable silence it was already forming.

“Like always.” His answer is curt, but you can’t understand if it is because he doesn’t want to talk or just because it is him.

“And yours?” This surprises you.

“It was a good day. I was able to take a lot of good notes and the lesson was interesting.”

He nods at your words “I suppose it is hard.”

“Yes, but it is also really rewarding. For example-“ You start to blabber, and you notice it but you can’t stop, excitement guiding you even if you know your interlocutor has little to no interest in what you are saying. Embarrassing.

“Hey! It’s ready.” It’s Elisa that save you, stopping your blabbering. “What were you talking about?” She asks, curiosity evident.

You’d like to reply but you are too astonished by the food in front of you. Everything looked mouth-watering, you didn’t even know food could get such vivid colors, not to talk about the smell-

“She was telling me about her cardiac surgery lessons.” Sae replies for you, thankfully your eyes are already comically wide thanks to the food in front of you so nobody notices your surprise at his words.

So he was listening?

“Oh! I’m happy you are finally knowing each other, but now let’s eat! We don’t want the food to get cold.” You both nod at Elisa words and damn the food was as beautiful as it was delicious. There is not much chat, enjoying the meal in silence, just the background sound of the television to keep you company.

“Hey, you should accompany Sae to the aquarium one of these days.” Elisa says with a voice full of cheer. It doesn’t take much for you to understand where she took that idea, the advertisement of the aquarium still going on television.

“Well, it all depends on Sae, he has really strict hours-“

“Let’s go tomorrow. I have no training to do.” He says, no real force behind his words like he is just accepting his fate.

You gasp a bit “Oh, okay then. Is it fine in the afternoon?”

He nods, slurping down some of his cold noodles, you can only wish your technique will ever be as good as his, not a single drop of oil staining his shirt or mouth.

The dinner ends quietly, you place the crockery in the dishwasher and go directly into your bedroom.

The morning comes awfully quick and you feel even more tired than when you went to sleep. You proceed with your morning routine, not Elisa nor Sae insight so you take it easy. After you prepare yourself you go back to your books, your attention often grasped by anything going on.

Your attention gets caught one more time by a notification on your phone; it’s Eliza.

“Got a cute lunch date with a cutie. Try not to kill Sae and have a nice date <3” Ugh. She can be so pushy at times. You sigh and notice the hour, it’s time to eat.

When you enter the living room you notice Sae already made himself comfortable on the sofa.

“I didn’t hear you coming in.”

“I tried to be silent. I was doing yoga so I didn’t make much sound.” He replies, boredom dripping from his voice as usual. You nod “Are we blessed again by your chef's food today or I’m on my own?”

“The latter.”

“Oh! Can I make you piadina? It’s an easy dish to make.”

He turns around, teal eyes finally looking at you “What are the ingredients?”

“It’s easy! It’s more or less a circle of bread that gets folded this way and you can choose how to fill it.” You walk near him and show him the screen of your phone, the picture on it the perfect example of a perfect piadina.

“So…I can choose something different than fried potato, right?”

“Yes, you fill it with whatever you want. Simply sausage and fried potatoes with pepperoni is a classic match.” He looks at you with disgust, and at this point it makes you laugh.

“Not a fan? I swear the match is heavenly.”

“Aren’t you a doctor? You should know fried potatoes are toxic to the body.” This time you chuckle out loud.

“Fried potatoes are the last thing you should worry about between the ingredients I told you. And anyway-“ You sign to him to walk with you towards the kitchen “You won’t die eating it once in a while.”

“I don’t know anything about this stuff. I just go with what my manager and dietologist tell me.” He replies, pointing to the fridge with the ingredients he wants.

“No? For real?” You start to cook his one, the guest always comes first.

“Yeah, other than football I don’t know much else.” You notice a hint of sadness in his voice, irises darkening a bit and it tickles something in the back of your brain.

“Well, next time why don’t you help me cook? You may have a personal chef but it is nice to have different skills.”

He nods, he doesn’t burst with joy, but he seems serious. You give him his dish, arugula, and tomatoes. You do the same, half because you like the match and the other half because you don’t want to prepare other ingredients.

You eat in silence, something you already expected.

“Are you ready to go to the aquarium?” You ask, putting the dish in the dishwasher.

He nods giving you his one. Previously Sae asked you if you wanted to go by car “If you don’t trust me I can always call my driver” but you refused his offer, telling him that you’d bring him there gladly and with the perfect vehicle for such a sunny day.

“Good, get ready because my vehicle is amazing.” He bends his head a little, confused by your words, but doesn’t inquire more. He supposes it will be a surprise.

For sure it is a surprise, but not the good kind.

“It’s a bike.” His voice drips venom, but you brush it off.

“Not just a bike, it’s a graziella! Perfect to carry people on the back!” You say, slapping the bike rear-rack.

“It’s too low, it will be uncomfortable for my legs.” He retorts but you don’t desist, smiling back at him.

“In fact, you don’t have to sit, you have to stand up on it on completely trust my skills.” The face he makes is pure comedy, it’s a mixture of scared, anger and, as always, disgust. “C’mon mister Itoshi. I swear you can trust me, not even a bug will hit your precious legs, let alone the ground.” You hear him gulp and see the gears in his brain running, you wait a few seconds but the answer finally arrives.

“Okay, but if something happens to me you’ll pay with interest.” You nod and smile back sitting on the saddle. You soon feel the bike moving under you with the added weight. You start to pedal not wanting to lose balance and make you both fall on the ground and his hands immediately find support on your shoulder, gripping tight on them.

“Let’s go!” You shout, the bike is harder to manage but you push forward. The ride is silent, the summer breeze dancing around you two, only gasps can be heard from the guy standing on the back when you take a hole making both the bike and Sae jump. His hands aren’t as tight on you anymore, probably he is trying to trust you as best as he can, it’s pleasing to think he is starting to trust you, the feeling runs to your head becoming a pink fog that makes you feel dangerously well and uncaring. You are sure you would look like a postcard if someone took a photo right now, you feel so peaceful that it’s hard to imagine you look bad right now.

Dangerous because you almost don’t notice that you arrived at the aquarium, pulling harshly on the brakes almost making your guest jump off the bike if it wasn’t for his hands harpooning your shoulders.

“Sorry-“ You say in between your teeth, wincing at your mistake. You hear him scoff but he decides to not salt in the wound.

“Put the bike there, I’ll pay for the tickets.”

“Are you sure? I can pay for my own-“ He doesn’t even listen to you, walking to the ticket office without looking back at you once.

The visit was actually really fun, for you at least, Sae never expressed any kind of emotions, the corners of his lips a line that never twitched upwards or downwards. You see teals eyes looking around, but it seems nothing catches his attention. At least he stops when you ask, not a groan of disapproval, not a happy smile either.

“I like penguins.”  You say looking at the glass separating you from the cute bird wobbly on its feet. A gasp of surprise escapes your mouth when one of them dives into the salty water to stop exactly in front of you. You pull at the end of Sae’s shirt, the excitement going straight to your head, too busy being ‘a finger apart’ than ruining your guest's clothes. You shout in happiness but the sound is drowned by the squalls of kids around you.

“I can see.” Finally, a hint of a smile appears on his face, but you are now too busy looking back at the penguins to notice it. Meanwhile, Sae is too busy looking at the features of your face, looking for once at you, not looking down on you. The blue and soft lights of the aquarium make you look like a dream, the joy in your eyes matching your smile.

Something moves inside him, it’s pleasant but it fades in a snap of a finger when you face him again, prompting him to walk towards the next glass. You talk about colorful jellyfish or something like that. It’s not that he is interested in anything there. After all, he accepted Elisa’s offer not to sound too rude even for his standard. But he thinks, that moment of happiness on your face was in part worth the deal.

Not that you’ll notice head entirely elsewhere.

“It was nice. Thanks for paying.” You are now outside, bike on hand while you walk near the seashore. The wind is stronger there, and more than once you shrink in your place, while the guy next to you is perfect, as always. A porcelain doll crafted by the most expert hands ‘too bad they didn’t lose another minute to work on his personality, tho’ you think.

“No problem. Can we stay here a minute longer?” Sae asks, but he is already still, as always it was an order, not a question. You nod, the sun is setting, painting the sea warm colors, waves are big but reduced to nothing when they arrive so near your feet. You see him breathing in, eyes closing to enjoy the moment.

“Do you like the sea, Itoshi?”

“Yes. I used to always visit the beach with my brother.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you have a sibling! Is he hot?” You chuckle, blossoming in full laughter after he sides eye you, annoyance mixing with the green of his eyes.

“He isn’t your type.” He clicks his tongue “You like handsome guys and he is not.” His voice is flat, as usual.

“Handsome guys? Yeah, I like them, obviously but why do you have this idea of me?”

“Simple-“ a smile, a real one, grace his features “You like me.” You gasp at his world, pushing his shoulder, but his body barely move.

“Mister Itoshi, your ego is way too big!” You puff out your cheeks, but there is no real anger in your words.

“Sae.”

“Mh?” The silence lasts very little but it feels like an eternity.

“Call me Sae.” His teal eyes link with yours. His voice is low, serious and makes your knees wobble a little. He looks happy, the sun painting beautiful shades on his fair skin. It’s honestly a breathtaking sight.

“Okay, Sae. Your ego is still too big!” You break the tension, too heavy all of a sudden. Too intense for two strangers who couldn’t even suffer each other.

Just too much.

The spell is broken and you see him wince, ‘probably he didn’t want to sound so intense’ you think telling him to go back home. The ride is silent, when midway it’s Sae who decides to talk.

“Why are people looking at us weird?”

“Maybe because you are a football superstar?”

“No, the look when people recognize me is different.”  You hum, but you come up with another motivation quick.

“Maybe because you are the one being carried! Usually is the guy that carries around the woman.” You state, no malice in your words. He is silent for a few seconds.

“Let’s switch.”

“You don’t have to worry, I don’t care about this-“

“I said stop pedaling and switch places with me.”

“Stop ordering me around! Plus if you have never done that there is no way you can keep me-“

“If you don’t switch I’ll jump off the bike, I’ll hurt myself and do you remember what you promised me this afternoon?” You feel more of his weight on your shoulders like he wants to remind you of his upper position, just figurately now “I’ll make you you pay, remember?” It’s the same voice he used on you the first time you met and it made you reflexly pull the brakes, this time slower so he could jump off without any risk.

He sits on your place and clicks his head, as a sign for you to stand on the back.

“But if you hurt me? What do I gain?” Your voice is wobbly, not trusting him at all. Your hands grip tightly on his shoulders and you are sure there will be a red sign there tomorrow.

“I’ll kiss it better. Now shut up.” He starts pedaling, not checking you once. For sure you didn’t like his answer but jumping off now sounded like a good way to sprain your ankle.

“Do you know at least the road to go home!?” He takes a hole and makes you jump, you suppose it’s the karma for how you drove before

“…okay. Talk just to tell me where to go.”

You arrived home, safe and sound. You don’t kiss the ground just because you don’t want to act overdramatic, but feeling the ground under your feet with no wounds on your legs seems a real miracle. Elisa welcomes you both with a big smile, her eyes are tired but you notice a drop of happiness in her eyes so you do not worry. The week goes by naturally. You and Sae don’t banter as often, but calling what you have a friendship would be a stretch, Elisa still tries to push you into something more, but her attempts are failures, if not disasters most of the time. Thankfully Sae doesn’t dig further, not that he cares since he is so sure you have a mind-numbingly, heart-shattering crush on him anyway.

The real surprise comes when he goes back home, everyone is back to their normal life ‘till one day receives a message from an unknown number. It’s not a text, but a picture of you two, of when you were going to the aquarium since you were the one pedaling. There are ginormous texts on the sides probably it has been published by one of those gossip magazines you tend to avoid.

“Who are you?” You text back, and an answer will not be long in coming.

“Sae. Elisa gave me your number.”  You smile thinking how happy she probably was when Sae asked for it. She was probably giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Why did you contact me? It’s a problem if we were seen together?”

“No” A dry texter, exactly what you expected.

“Then let me say; we really looked beautiful.” You write it with a heart bursting in happiness. You both looked happy, your faces radiating joy. You may not be an earth-shattering beauty but nobody would have been able to sincerely say you looked bad.

“We did.”

You are happy to know he feels the same.

5 months ago

You are at a beach party. Honestly, you would rather be somewhere else but after closing yourself for two months at home to pass your exams you need a bit of fresh air. Summer is now leaving its place to autumn, the days are still long, but at least the temperature is acceptable. Stars are shining high in the sky and everyone seems to enjoy the party. You wear a cute dress, ‘the one for good occasions’ you repeat to yourself. It’s not tight, the skirt is large enough that you can easily move around, but it hugs your waist before getting larger again on the chest area-

“Hey-“ Elisa elbows you “Sae is sitting on the couch all alone, why don’t you keep him company.” She laughs but this time it isn’t for the alcohol; she is just dumber because she could get with her crush, Leonardo. Actually, he was the one to set the party all teammates and their partners invited. You actually came thanks to Elisa's invite, but you would be lying if you said that it didn’t matter seeing Sae.

Something more keen to a friendship developed between you two during these months, the messages you exchanged a clear sign. What surprised you the most was that he also was the one to start conversations, asking if you were fine, checking if everything was okay. You had no other occasion to meet in person, between matches and studies you both had your hands full, so you don’t mind actually catching up with him.

“Hey sourpuss, it has been a while!” You plop down on the couch next to him. He widens his eyes in surprise, looking like a scared kitten, before returning to the bored expression, not even greeting you.

“Not even a hello? Bad night for our Casanova?” You chuckle as he clicks his tongue knowing full well you are teasing him.

“You know I’m not interested in a romantic relationship.” He is bored out of his mind and you decide to tease him some more…maybe you drunk too much.

“Well, it seems to me you are liking that girl over there. Your eyes are glued to her-“ You can’t finish the phrase, his index finger pressing against your lips.

“I never thought you were one for physical contact.”

“Never know you liked to drink this much either.” He takes the drink from your hand and takes a sip from it. “It actually tastes good.”

“I know it, you big bully! I just wanted to cheer you up and I get treated this way.” You whine. The redhead looks at you for a minute too long, pondering what to do, when his hand decides to find the crown of your head, patting you.

“Shh baby, everything is fine.” It’s a smile full of mirth and it reminds you that he is really handsome, in case your memory fails you. You must look like a pathetic cat in front of him, all pouty and a bit stupid thanks to alcohol.

“I just wanted to spend some time with you.” You whisper out, but for sure he could hear it, getting closer to you. This time you don’t see any mirth in his eyes, back to his usual seriousness so you decide to be direct with your feelings. “I missed you. That week living together made me really change my opinion of you.” This time you don’t whisper and you see Sae getting taken back by your words, batting his long lashes at your words. You can’t hold his gaze so you fix yourself on the fire in front of you, made to perfectly set the beach party atmosphere.

“Then we should meet more often.” You look back at him, but this time it’s Sae looking elsewhere, not at a specific person on the dancefloor, simply looking in front of him. “Taken with moderation it’s nice talking with you.” It’s his usual sarcasm and you feel melting, like he just removed a heavy weight you didn’t even know to carry.

“Okay, let’s promise!” You hold your pinky out and it makes Sae raise his eyebrow.

“I appreciate you wanting to integrate my culture, but we stop doing that after elementary sch-“

“Shhh, don’t break the magic! Just do it!” He sighs before rolling his eyes but at the end, he gives up intertwining your pinkies together.

“From now on we promise to see each other more often, like good friends!” The words roll from your mouth carelessly, even if you are serious about it. You feel Sae tightening your grip on your pinkie at the ‘good friends’ part but you don’t give it much importance.

“Are you next week?”

“Yes, I am now that exams ended! Do you have something in mind?” You ask a bit too excited.

“My manager told me to participate in a cooking video or something along those lines. He said it would be good for my image and they pay a lot, but-“

“You hate not being prepared, right?” You interrupt “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you a mouth-watering recipe!” And you compliment yourself for being really smooth when your hand, linked to his just by your pinkie, perfectly slides to hold it, palm to palm but not bold enough to intertwine fingers. Sae doesn’t jerk away from your touch if anything holding your hand tighter before nodding at your words. He holds your gaze and just then you notice how close his face is to yours, how there is just a whiff separating your lips…

“It’s time for the toasts! Everyone come!!” The shout of one of Sae's teammates awakes you both from the moment separating you two as quickly as you got near to each other. You don’t talk much to each other the rest of the night and you decide not to overthink what just happened, you probably drank too much and he probably was too tired to tell you to step back. For sure beach liked to play tricks on you.

Obviously, not overthinking was easier said than done, even with a pounding headache your mind started to wander and it only got worse when Sae texted his free day, to which you replied with a thumbs up. You aren’t worried about the recipe to make him cook, you have done it countless times and your mother sent you the right ingredients not so long ago. You are worried because maybe you are harboring feelings for him and you’d hate to tell him he was right all along. You can already see his smile, going from one ear to the other; you can accept being rejected, but not being made fun of.

Thankfully Lady Luck is on your side the day you finally meet up, but in a wicked way, making the chain of your bike drop something you had never to deal with. So when you hear the bell ringing your mind goes in tilt not being able to choose if panicking for your bike or for the guy in front of your door.

“Hi Sae.” You whisper out, leaning on your door.

“You are dirty.”

“Is this some new kind of dirty talking-“ He pushes you to the side, entering the house.

“So what happened? You look like a flea that just swam in petroleum.” 

“You are always so delicate Sae.” You slump your shoulders before explaining what happened “I tried to watch a video to fix it myself but it was no use.”

“I can help, where is the bike?” You look up, hope shining in your eyes.

“Oh the garage is the first left door at the end of the corridor, but are you sure-“  Sae already walked away, the squeak of the garage door telling you he got the right door.

When you reach him he is already on his knees, fingers deftly working to put the greasy chain in its place.

 “Done.” He flips the bike as easily as you’d flip a pancake, not even a sneer of fatigue appears. “Anything else?” You are shocked by how fast he fixed it.

“Aren’t you the one that doesn’t know anything other than football?”

“Yeah, but I had a childhood too. My little brother always messed it up. Do you have anything to wash the grease off?” You nod wanting the clean yourself up too.

“Now that we are all cleaned up, let’s cook! Today I want to teach you how to make tortellini, a type of stuffed pasta, have you ever heard of it?” The red hair waves his head left and right, you see curiosity in his eyes and it makes something bubble in you. “I have already done the filling, it’s easy to make later I’ll tell you the ingredients, but now let’s focus on the dough. As you can see I did a little fountain with the flour and we will have to put the yolks and the eggs white inside, like this-“ You show it to him, his teal eyes still fixed on your movements “Now grab a fork and start to mix, not everything together, just a bit and then always more until you can start to knead with your hands.” This is the worst part, the dough is hard and you need a lot of strength to mix it to perfection. “Wanna give me a hand?” You gasp already tired. He nods, but you didn’t expect him to help in this way.

His right hand locks with yours, the other already at the bottom of the dough, and his chest is impossibly close to your back. You feel his chin on top of your shoulder, his breath hitting your neck.

It’s intimate, too intimate for your standards.

“H-Hey thanks but you don’t need to hug the chef to do it, you know?” You chuckle awkwardly, trying to move your head far from his, but his body caging you doesn’t let you move far.

“Mh? Sorry I thought it could work better. Feeling how your fingers work on the dough and everything.” It sounds like a poor excuse even for your ears, but you brush it off his arms not blocking you anymore; probably he just needed affection or something like that.

You move to the side, watching him knead, but your eyes soon travel up, to his face noticing a new detail…

“You have freckles?”

“I get them when I tan, I hate them.” The corner of his plush lips turn downwards, his hands working harsher on the dough.

“Why? They make you more human.”

“What are you saying? That I’m a cyborg?” He stops, green irises gazing straight into yours.

“I’m saying that looking ‘imperfect’ makes you more beautiful Sae.” You say it as a universal truth, your voice doesn’t waver, and your eyes don’t either. This time it’s he who has to break the eye contact, you see him biting his inner cheek.

“So now?” He points at the dough.

“Now we have to roll it out. We should use a rolling pin, but it is too much of a pain so we’ll use another device-”

“No, let me do the old way. I’m not a weakling like you.” His voice drips of malice and the urge to knock his head with the rolling pin is harder than ever.

“Okay then, use it. I’m curious to see how you’ll handle it.” Sae takes it from your hand and tries to use it. The shape wouldn’t even be bad if it wasn’t so poorly distributed, some places thin others awfully thick, plus you can see he isn’t using the right muscles, making him more sore than he should be.

“You are terrible, can’t you see it all has different thickness? Move let me show you how to do it.” You push him away, no real force In your movement but he moves away, giving you the rolling pin with a provocative demeanor. “We say you have to make love with the dough, use your hips like this and you won’t have to use all your arm strength. Now do it.” You give the utensil back, Sae nods eyes filled with concentration.

Too bad he keeps making the same mistake. You click your tongue “Sae, do I have to teach you how to make love?” You snicker when he sides-eye you.

“Okay  mister icicle, let me show you again how to do that.” Your hands lay on his hips but you look at his face to understand if you crossed any boundary, but he doesn’t say anything, to say the truth he doesn’t even look at you, so you take it as consent. “Instead of using just your arm strength, help yourself with a push of the hips like this-“ You move it synched with his hands twice, before letting go of the hold you have on him. “Yeah, that’s exactly how you should do it!” You notice Sae smiling, it lasts very little but it is there and you feel really proud of his work.

Then you teach him how much filling is needed inside and how to close them up.

“I can’t do it, my fingers are too chubby, see?” The half-made tortellino’s dough tears in his hands that are, in fact, a bit too chubby to deftly close it.

“Hey, don’t trash it away! You can’t fix it but you can always have…an early taste.” You reply, winking at him.

“But won’t it be dangerous? The filling is cooked, but the pasta-“

“I swear you won’t die superstar, I’ve done it countless times and I’m as healthy as you are.” You say smacking his shoulder, but by the look, the redhair isn’t fully convinced. “C’mon try it!” You spur him like a granny urging her nephew to eat her home-cooked meal.

The shine in Sae’s eyes after the bit of food hit his tastebuds is a telltale sign that you really nailed the recipe. Not that you had any doubt to start with.

 You finish closing them up and invite him for dinner telling him that Elisa is out so she won’t mind. Sae refuses your offer, his manager needs to see him so they’ll dine together.

“Well at least bring back home a bag of these!”

“Won’t you die of starvation?”

“Don’t act stupid, I won’t give you them all, I’m not that nice!” You prepare two servings “In case you want to share a meal with a special guest.” He replies with a huff, but you don’t care, knowing well how he can be.

“See you soon Sae.”

“If that raw pasta will kill me my lawyer will bang at your door.” He replies already out and walking towards the driver he called before.

“Don’t be overdramatic, it doesn’t suit you, ice man.” He smiles back at you behind the window of his car but you can’t see him since it is tinted.

From that day you don’t hear him until the famous cooking video he told you about appear on your screen. Obviously, they made him cook something way easier, too bad he had a blindfold on and his teammate had to tell him what to do.

“I hope your teamwork works better on the football field.” You text him, a winking emoji at the end.

His answer doesn’t long in coming “Worry more about your exams.” It hurts you more than being run over by a car.

3 months before

“Sae can you pick me up?”

“Did something happen?”

“Nothing that bad, but could you?”

“Send me your position, I’m coming.”

“Thanks” You sniff.

You are not used to crying, or better, you are not used anymore. Years of university thickened your skin enough to be able to deal with most wounds.

Most, not all.

You studied hard for this exam, it was one of the few ones you had to do to finally get your degree, one step closer to reaching your dream. But you failed it, and now you’ll have to wait months before being able to take it again. You didn’t meet with anybody, barely talked with Elisa, and you share a bedroom with her, skipped meals to be sure not to lose time, and repeated the paragraphs till your voice gave out.

All of this for a fist of nothing.

You cried and gasped the moment you were far enough from the classroom. Weakness isn’t accepted and pity is a sign you won’t survive long in this world; this is what you’ve been taught. You forgot how shit you could feel while crying, how lonely you are. You wanted to call your parents, they have always been good at reassuring you, but then Sae's name was the first contact to appear and you clicked without thinking twice.

Maybe harsh love is what you need.

You regret your choice the second you hear the first thrill. He must be training, maybe he is in the sweet company of someone, you can already hear his ice-cold voice snapping at you for bothering him. But you don’t have the time to close the call, Sae picked it up and was coming to help.

You recognize the car, it was the same one that picked him up when he went back home from his house, but this time he is the one driving.

“Come in.”

You sit on the soft leather. While you waited for him you tried to dry up your tears to improve your current condition, but to no avail; eyes still red and puffy and some tears still escaping.

“Are you bri-bringing me home?” You brokenly say between gasps.

“No. What happened?” Sae’s eyes stay fixed on the road, raindrops fall on the windshield, ironic how the weather matches your mood.

He snaps his fingers in front of you, bringing you back to earth so you start to tell him what happened.

“I know I must sound so-so dumb but-“ Gasps keep interrupting you “I feel like a failure. Maybe I am.” You look at him, your vision is foggy due to the new tears, but this time he looks back at you. You didn’t even notice he stopped the car, now off the road.

But what it comes to surprise you. No harsh words, no sarcasm.

Sae hugs you, hands patting your back.

“Everyone fails, even cyborg guys like me. Everything can be fixed and a little misstep on the road doesn’t define you as a person.” He pulls away, face relaxed, and goes back to driving.

“One hamburger and a chips portion.”

Were you parked in a fast-food lot? You were so out of your mind and outside is so dark that you didn’t notice. You have been silent, still recovering from the hug and those words that sounded so encouraging and not like Sae at all.

“Why the chips? You don’t like them.” It’s the first thing you are able to blabber, at least you didn’t stutter anymore.

“This isn’t for me. It’s for you.” The redhair says putting the paper bag on your legs “Junk food can be nice once in a while. And stop crying-“ the back of his curled index finger swipes away a lone tear running down your face “I hate looking at ugly stuff and tears reduce you to a really ugly mess.” 

Ah, the old Sae is back. You can finally recognize him, with all his rude comments. But something inside you blossoms while he drives you back home and you bite into your hamburger.

Does it mean he finds you beautiful every other time? You feel blood running to your face for a minute you hear a whistle in your ears, but you impose yourself not to bash your head around it. Now you have to find a nice way to explain the situation to Elisa without making her worried sick and hide who brang you home to avoid her dumb smile and endless teasing that would come your way. You look outside the car window, mind already wandering somewhere else.

In the end, Elisa discovered everything, for sure Sae insisting on bringing you inside crumbled to pieces your plan, and your mood was too devasted to be able to efficiently hide your feelings. At least your attention wasn’t on the football star anymore.

Your mind already planned to think about them for the next weeks anyway.

Today. Night

“I suppose the date didn’t go as planned.” Sae doesn’t move, no intention of shielding your body under the umbrella.

“No, but it was my fault.” ‘Because I’m in love with you’ you add in your brain. “You want to know what happened?”

“Not really.”

“Bad for you because I’ll tell you anyway.” You joke between gasps. Sae doesn’t move away but he keeps looking down on you. “He was so nice, he took me to the restaurant and even wanted to pay. The small talk was incredible and we have a lot in common-“ You look down, not able to keep his gaze “But my heart is for someone who considers me barely a friend-“ Your hands now cover your face “And then when I arrived here to cry in peace a couple walked in front of me being all cute and I crumbled.”

“It could have been us.”

“Umh?” You can finally gaze back into his eyes, liquid fury while looking down at you.

“Who is the guy you have a crush for? The loser-“

“It’s you. You are the loser.” Your brain still struggles to phantom what is happening. You were freezing cold a few minutes ago, you couldn’t feel the apex of your fingers, but now you don’t feel anything.

But something inside Sae’s mind clicked before yours, the umbrella waving left and right, the grip on it clearly loosened.

“You are an imbecile.” His words are sharp knives on your body, but you can’t grasp in pain because something is pressing on your lips.

Sae is kissing you, his cold hands gripping you by the collar of your dress to keep you close, raindrops fall down from his cheeks to yours, the umbrella is left abandoned in a bush, the wind tearing it apart.

“For how long?” He pulls you up from the bench, his right hand gripping yours while the left one is on your back.

“The exam fail.” You whisper almost in a trance “And you?”

“Let’s go home-“ He starts to run out from the park, calling for a cab to bring you both to, you suppose, your house. You notice him looking around, probably searching for a place to shield your bodies from the rain; not that you have much to protect anymore both wet from head to toe.

“It has been longer...Sae! That’s why you have always teased me.” You finally laugh shivers of cold and joy running down your back.  “Sae!” You shout stopping in your tracks. Sae turns back but doesn’t have time to snap at you, this time it’s you kissing him. Your hands go to caress his cheeks, one hand sliding a bit back to scratch the back of his neck. You probably nailed the right point, because you hear him moan into your mouth. His hands slide lower caressing your waist to your hips, but never brave enough to go to your backside.

Or better, when you feel him sliding closer…

“Mister Itoshi, come in the car!” his driver came to pick you up, using the horn two times to announce his presence.

Sae looks at him, gnashing his teeth before looking back at you, his expression getting softer again. “Let’s go” he kisses you in between your eyebrows before pulling you towards his car.

“Okay, but you’ll have to tell me when you fell in love with me.” You feel the hold on your hands tightening, no need to look at his face to understand what’s going on in his head.

Maybe he’ll kiss you dumb to make you forget about that. Maybe he’ll be brave enough to propose showering together…your mind starts to daydream, maybe he won’t have the courage and you’ll have to take the reins, but one thing is sure.

You’ll both be happy.

[honeygrahambitch]

"I want to introduce you to Will Graham."

It was the sixth time Will was hearing that phrase from Jack. To say that he was regretting attending the FBI congress was an understatement.

His social battery was below zero and his facial muscles were hurting from forcing smiles to all the strangers who were all bombing him with dry compliments and uncomfortable questions.

How did you catch Hobbs?

Is it true that the Ripper has a soft spot for you?

Is it easy to do your job?

He managed to excuse himself to the bathroom and to leave the hotel lobby where everyone was drinking and having small chats. He was not sure where he was heading but at that point everything else sounded better.

He went down a corridor. Turned left. Turned right. Left again. His phone buzzed. Jack was texting him to ask if he was sick. The thought of being completely honest about his thoughts regarding the event was very tasty.

"No, I was just thinking of going outside for a few minutes. I will be back soon."

As he was walking and texting he realized he had no idea where he was anymore. He walked into what looked like another great hall, like the one where the conference was. Had he walked in circles? Was he back again?

He walked in and looked for a few well-known faces. Hanging out with Beverly was definitely a better idea than hanging out with Jack. She was better at reading all his subtle cues.

He grabbed his phone again thinking about sending her a text. As his gaze was focused on the screen of his phone, he suddenly bumped into someone's back.

"Sorry-" he started but then relief was all over his face.

"Will, what a wonderful coincidence." Hannibal greeted him.

He was holding a glass of champagne, wearing a dark navy blue suit. His tie was only slightly darker and his hair was impeccable just like the usual.

However, Hannibal's surprise was even bigger. Bumping into Will was an occurrence that he had fantasized about many times before. Bumping into Will wearing a non-plaid shirt was the ideal dream. All his attention was now on the only man in the world who could read him like a book.

"Yeah, it's good to see a well-known face. Are you here for the FBI congress too?" Will asked a bit confused. Why didn't he know Hannibal was going to be there too?

"The FBI congress?" Hannibal asked and nodded towards a big banner that stated The Annual Congress of Psychiatry and Mental health.

It was them when Will realized he was in fact in a different hall.

"I must have got lost while..."

"Running from Jack Crawford?"

Will laughed. "Actually, yes. Sorry, you were probably in the middle of a conversation."

"Not at all." Hannibal replied. "You are the most important person in the room."

"Yeah, sure." Will replied to Hannibal's charming antics.

"No, I'm serious. I mean, you are definitely the most important to me but this is a psychiatry congress, Will. If any of my colleagues recognize you, you will start running again."

Will looked around and felt like a mouse in a cat shelter.

"Is that Chilton?"

"Unfortunately so. Let's go out, shall we, dearest?"

"Definitely." Will said and allowed Hannibal to guide him outside. Hannibal's hand made his way to the small of his back, as if he was reassuring him that no one would bother him while he was there.

The cold outside felt like a second wave of relief. As his phone buzzed again he saw Beverly's name pop up on the screen

"Jack is losing his shit. Where are you?"

"Can you distract him for a while? Please?"

"I will introduce him to the candy bar. But you owe me one."

Will rolled his eyes and put his phone back in to the pocket of his pants.

"Is Jack worried about your whereabouts?" Hannibal asked as they walked down a cobblestone alley which went through the labyrinth garden of the hotel.

"Yeah, worried that he can't show everyone his precious unicorn."

"What were the chances of you running into another congress where you still are considered the precious unicorn?"

"Turns out the chances were not small enough. What are you do-?"

"It's cold." Hannibal said as he took off his suit jacket and put it on Will's shoulders.

"No, keep it on."

"I definitely had more alcohol than you did, it keeps me warm."

"I was never able to tell."

"It's definitely necessary. Especially when Chilton is invited."

"Don't act like you don't enjoy this kind of congresses, doctor. You love the spotlight. Minus doctor Chilton."

"I do." Hannibal said, an amused smile on his thin lips. Will was looking through him just like one would flip the pages of a book.

"I will be fine. You should probably go back to your peers."

"I spent the whole weekend with them. I am more than happy to take a break with you."

"Should we pick it up from where we left if last week then?" Will suddenly asked as he discreetly looked around them. Judging by the silence, they were probably the only people in the whole maze.

"You mean before Jack called?"

"Why is that such a frequent occurrence?"

"Because you allow it, mylimasis." Hannibal replied and stopped, putting himself in front of Will. "Where were we?"

"Your hands were right here." Will said as he grabbed them and put them on his hips. "And you were telling me...what were you telling me?" Will teased.

"How I genuinely believe there is no being on this earth who equals your beauty." Hannibal said and leaned in for a kiss which Will dodged.

"And what else was there?"

"Then I said that even God must perish in jealousy because of how much I adore you, my beautiful deity."

Will nodded. "Why are you feeding my ego?"

"It needs to be fed too, my dear." Hannibal said as he managed to steal a kiss. "No part of you will stay hungry while I'm here."

"Keep talking." Will said and tried to banish the voice in his head that was calling him a spoiled kid.

"People build altars and churches to show their devotion to God. They believe that their endless buildings mean something. They don't know what true worshipping is."

"And you do?" Will asked as he allowed himself to lean in and kiss Hannibal. His touch was soft but the way he bit his lower lip until blood came out made Hannibal yearn for more.

"I can show you at home." Hannibal said instantly and grabbed Will's hand. He was going to find the way out of there, he would put Will in his car and they would leave that place behind.

And at home, he would give Will all the adoration he deserves.

[juanarc-thethird]

Let's be friends!

Jaune and Sun are enjoying a coffee at the local coffee shop while observing Neptune hit on a girl.

Jaune: This is the seventh time he has tried to pick up a girl.

Sun: And yet, they have all rejected him.

Jaune: Oh, he's coming back.

Sun: And by his expression, it didn't go well.

Neptune comes to the table, sits down, and lays his head on the table.

Neptune: She said no.

Jaune puts his hand on Neptune's shoulder.

Jaune: Sorry buddy, maybe next time.

Sun: Yeah, there's always a new day.

Neptune: That's what you guys told me yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, and the day before, and the day before, and the day before…..

Sun: OKay, Buddy! I think you need to distract your mind a bit. So how about we go see a movie? Jaune?

Jaune doesn't respond, his gaze is focused on the table while he is thinking on something.

Sun: Um, Jaune, are you listening?

Jaune: Oh sorry, I was thinking about something else.

Sun: What were you thinking about?

Jaune: How Neptune asks for a date. I mean, he's tried several phrases, different sentence structures, but he's still been rejected for every single one of them.

Neptune whimpers at Jaune's comment.

Sun: Dude...

Jaune: I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I was just thinking what would happen if he try the opposite?

Sun: What do you mean?

Jaune: What if, instead of asking a girl out. He ask them to be only friends.

Neptune raises his head and turns to look at Jaune.

Neptune: That sounds stupid.

Sun: I agree with Neptune. He is trying to get a girlfriend, not a friend.

Neptune: Besides, I already have enough friends.

Jaune: Ok, but what if it works? Hmm? Don't knock it until you try it

Neptune: I'm not going to make a fool out of myself by trying your stupid idea.

Jaune: Sun?

Sun: Don't look at me. Is your idea, you try it.

Jaune: Ok I will. Just watch.

He begins to look around.

Jaune: I'm going to ask… her. The red-haired girl in the corner.

The other two turn to see this girl. She is sitting on one of the booths next to the window having a coffee while she looks out outside. She is tall, light-skinned and has an aura of maturity. She wears somewhat torn jeans, with her red shirt, a black leather jacket and fashionable black boots. Too Cool for a geek like Jaune.

Neptune: What?! That girl is out of your league. She would never go out with you.

Jaune: Well, it's a good thing I'm just asking to be my friend.

Sun: Oh, nice comeback.

Jaune: Ok, *he takes a big breath* here I come.

He gets up from the table and walks towards the girl.

Jaune: Um... *ahem* Hello...

The girl looks at him.

Jaune: Hey I was wondering if you would like to-

Girl: I'm not interested.

Jaune: I'm sorry?

Girl: I said I'm not interested. I won't go out with you.

Jaune: Oh! I'm sorry for the confusing. I didn't come for that. I wanted to ask you if we can be friends.

Girl: Huh?

Jaune: I mean, you look so cool and I thought it would be cool to have you as a friend.

Girl: Wait, you're not trying to go out with me?

Jaune: Yep, and to be honest, and please don't take it the wrong way, you are not my type.

Girl: *Upset* Excuse me?!

Jaune: I mean it respectfully! You seem like a nice girl, it's just-

Girl: *Mad* "It's just" what?

Jaune: It's just that I'm a bit of a geek, and since you're super cool, we wouldn't be a good pair.

Girl: Well, but that's not just your decision. Because If I wanted you, I could have you.

Jaune: Umm... I'm sorry but you are not my type. Maybe I should go and leave you alone. Sorry for bothering you.

Jaune turns around but the girl stops him. She pulls him by his shirt and sits him on the other side of the booth. Before he can react, she corners him by sitting next to him. Leaving it between the window and her.

Girl: We are not done. What's your name?

Jaune: *Nervous* J-Jaune...

Eve: Well Jaune, I'm Eve. Are you free tonight?

Jaune: I'm sorry, but I'm not interested. You are not my type.

Eve: Oh but you're my type. So I'm going to make you mine.

She says while smiling somewhat menacingly.

Jaune: *Worry* I-I'm serious, I'm not interested. You're not what I'm looking for.

Eve: Well guess what, you are everything that I look in a man.

Jaune: *Panic* B-But...!

Eve puts her finger on Jaune's lips.

Eve: Shhh~ You know what, let's go on a date right now. Maybe that will change your mind about us.

Eve takes Jaune by the arm and guides him to who knows where. Jaune turns to look at his friends to get their attention but they only look at him in amazement at the great feat he has just achieved.

Neptune: Wow, he did it!

Sun: Yeah, but did he look a little scared? Should we worry? To be honest she acted somewhat… "intense" back there.

Neptune: Nah, Jaune will be fine. He is a big boy, he can take care of himself.

*Ting*

Sun: Huh? Jaune sent me a message.

Neptune: I bet it's a text to brag about his victory.

Sun: He says: "Help!" "She is crazy!" "Please get me out of here!"

Silence

The two stare at each other and say.

Neptune: Maybe we should go help him.

Sun: Agree.

They both jump out of their seats and run to rescue their friend.

[t1red-twilight]

nighttime routines

summary: you and spencer get ready for bed.

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, mention of injury, reader has hair long enough to be tucked behind ears

word count: 1k

masterlist

hotch had banned you from work after you had sustained an injury in the field. the team had been out of town on a case, and you had been left at your’s and spencer’s apartment alone for the past four or so days.

presently, you were lying on the couch and watching reruns of the office. your injury was pretty much healed, and you were planning on going back to work the coming monday.

spencer was going to be home any minute; he texted you as soon as the jet had landed.

just as the episode ended, you heard spencer unlock the door and come inside. you heard him huff out a sigh before speaking. “hi, honey. i’m home.” you could hear the smile in his tone as he recited the cliche phrase.

you bolted up from the couch and all but sprinted to the entryway. “how was the case?”

he took off his overcoat and set aside his belongings. “eh, it was alright. nothing out of the ordinary. how’s your shoulder? is it still hurting?”

now that his hands were free, you dove into his arms for a hug. he tucked his head into your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you. “no. it didn’t hurt at all today.”

he let out a sound of disbelief.

“no, i mean it. there’s not any swelling or anything.” you halted before adding, “i didn’t even take any meds today.”

his voice lowered to the quiet raspy tonality that you went crazy for. “okay, i believe you.”

the two of you stayed in the entryway for longer than a few moments. you sat and listened to him breathe. he began rocking the two of you back and forth. “you wanna go to bed?” he asked you.

you hummed an “mhm” in affirmation.

he let go of you and loosened his tie. the way his hands looked was delectable. he caught you staring and raised an eyebrow coyly.

your cheeks turned red in embarrassment. you looked away and walked to the bedroom; he followed you.

ever the gentleman, he turned away as you changed into your pajamas. he had picked a pair of red plaid pants and old fbi academy t-shirt. you were wearing some random doctor who t-shirt (one of spencers that you had claimed) and your most comfortable pair of pajama pants that were very worn out.

while the two of you were brushing your teeth, he scooted as close as he possibly could to you. your eyes met in the bathroom mirror and you smiled at him.

your skincare came next. he sat on the edge of the bath behind you. as you followed the steps of your routine, he chattered along with you. “why do you do the toner before the moisturizer again?” he inquired.

“because the toner is a lower viscosity,” you gently rubbed in your moisturizer.

“ah, makes sense.” you could tell from the look on his face that he did not, in fact, understand. you figured that he would research it later and inform you about logic behind it tomorrow.

you washed your hands and turned around, and walked over to him. stepping in between his legs, you looked down at his form. he placed his hands on the backs of your thighs and traced his fingers over them.

his puppy dog eyes were entrancing. “ready for bed, angel?”

“yeah. laying on the couch all day was really tiring,” you replied, smiling down at him.

he stood up and settled his hand on the small of your back and guided you to the bed. once in bed, you pulled the covers up to your chin. he tilted his head to the side and snickered at you.

you grinned at him. you kept eye contact as he crawled his way up and flopped himself on top of you, his full body weight settled.

“you’ll get cold if you lay like that all night, spence,” you chuckled.

his voice was muffled by the covers. “hmm, actually, you are quite the little space heater, angel.”

“really? is that a bad thing?” you craned your neck to look down at him.

“no. I get cold easily and you counteract that perfectly.” he moved his face from being smushed to look up at you. he then rolled off of you and tucked himself into the sheets.

almost instantaneously, you scampered through the sheets and right into his side.

he turned onto his side so that he could swaddle you entirely in his arms. he planted his chin on top of your head.

you inhaled his comforting scent. “i missed you.”

his voice had a raspiness to it that was only present when he was very tired or when he was waking up. “i missed you too. the case would have been solved quicker if you were there.”

“i don’t know about that, darling.” you were falling asleep very quickly.

“no, you’re a very valuable member of the team. you are very observant and catch onto patterns that the rest of us are slow to realize. also, i work better when you’re around me.” his fingers returned to tracing the patterns on your back that he was tracing on your thighs earlier.

he gently lodged his leg between yours. you nudged at his throat with your nose. “well, i’m glad to hear it. i don’t want to be out of a job right after getting shot.”

he kissed your forehead. “are you sure that your shoulder feels okay? completely, i mean. i don’t think that you should even do office work when incapacitated.”

“i wouldn’t lie to you about something like this, pretty boy.” he chuckled at the nickname, stolen from morgan. “i promise, i’m okay.” your voice was softening, sleep was sneaking up on you quicker and quicker.

“okay good. did anything happen while i was gone?” you felt his breath against your hair.

“i had to kill a spider in the kitchen yesterday. all by myself, mind you.”

he huffed out a little laugh. “oh god, that’s horrible,” he teased. “i’ll save you from the next one.”

[kaleldobrev]

Things Overheard

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean overhears a private conversation between you and Sam

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Cursing (8x), Mutual Pining & Lots of fluff, Smut (but no graphic descriptions of it — I use the phrasing “getting yourself off,” but that’s the extent of the smut description), Body image talks

Authors Note: Dreams are in italics | I included the smut warning even though it’s like super brief and not graphic in description whatsoever | Plus size reader fic | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Dean has known you for five years, and during those five years, he had fallen more and more in love with you. There was nothing about you that he didn't love. He loved hearing you hum whenever you were cleaning your guns or baking something in the kitchen; he loved hearing you sing in the shower when he walked past the bathroom; he loved the way you would do your full body laugh whenever him or Sam said something funny. But he especially loved when you would quietly mumble to yourself while you read.

But as much as he had loved you, and as much as he wanted to be with you more than anything, he knew that he could never have you unless it was in his dreams.

You were straddling him; your hands on his chest as he gripped your waist. You slowly rocked against him, trying to get yourself off as he barely moved a muscle. One of his hands went to your hair, tucking it behind your ear, and you gave him the softest of smiles. "You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered.

You leaned down, cupping his face between your hands and captured his lips with yours. He pulled you closer, fully wrapping his arms around your waist now. "And I'm all yours," you whispered in his ear.

When Dean woke up, he looked over to see you sleeping peacefully next to him; still wearing one of his sweatpants and t-shirts that he had let you borrow months ago that he knew he would never be getting back (and he was okay with that, as you looked better in them anyway).

Waking up next to you wasn't an uncommon occurrence, as you tended to migrate to his room sometimes during the night because of a nightmare you might of had, or accidentally falling asleep while the two of you were watching a movie the night before.

He laid back down, and simply just stared at you; admiring you as you slept. Even with your messy hair, he still thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

Dean had to restrain himself, as all he wanted to do was reach out and brush your hair away from your face. But all he did was smile at you, as that was the most he could do.

You started to stir just then, and Dean quickly shut his eyes, pretending that he was still sleeping when you woke. One of the last things he had needed was for you to call him some creep for watching you sleep (even though he had found it strangely comforting watching you).

When you woke up, you stretched your arms and turned over to see that Dean was still sound asleep; but wasn't snoring like he normally was. You stared at him for a moment, admiring the way he looked when he slept, how peaceful he seemed. You couldn't help but wonder what he was dreaming about.

You had to restrain yourself from reaching your hand out to touch his cheek; to run your fingers along his jawline (which was one of your favorite features on him). But you knew there was no way you could possibly do that in a remotely friendly way. So, you did the next best thing and kissed his forehead. Dean always managed to make it friendly, so why couldn't you? "See you later Tiger," you whispered, and quietly got out of bed, shutting the door to his bedroom gently behind you.

Dean sighed, opening his eyes once again when you shut the door behind you. He wanted your lips to linger there just a little bit longer. It took all that he had not to just open his eyes right there and just cup your face and kiss you.

Getting up from the bed, he started to make his way toward his bedroom door but stopped, when it sounded like you and Sam were whispering right outside his bedroom door.

“I don’t mean to be nosey but —” Sam begun, but you quickly cut him off.

“Of course you mean to be nosey,” you interjected; and Dean had to stop himself from laughing at your response.

Sam scoffed. “Okay, fair,” he said. “But seriously, what’s going on with you two? You spend more time in his room than you do your own.”

“Is that a problem?” You asked. Of course it’s not a problem, Dean thought.

“No but, it’s just got me wondering if you’re ever going to tell him how you actually feel about him,” Sam said. How she actually feels? He wondered. “I mean, I have a pretty strong suspicion that my brother feels exactly the same way you do.”

You sighed. “He doesn’t love me like that Sam. He loves me like the sister he’s never had, the same way you do.”

Sam half chuckled. “Trust me. I love you, I seriously do. But it’s strictly platonic. Dean…not so much.” All Dean could picture was that confused expression on your face right now. “Seriously? You seriously don’t see the way he looks at you?”

“I mean…” your voice trailed off.

“Or how his hugs tend to linger just a little bit longer?” Sam asked.

“I mean…” you sighed again. “Look, I can’t risk saying anything okay? So just…” you huffed off, and he heard you fast paced walking down the hall; a second later he heard your bedroom door close.

You laid there staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom, thinking back on the things that Sam had said to you in the hallway; praying that Dean hadn’t woken up and overheard you, as that was the last thing you had needed or wanted him to hear.

As long as you’ve known Dean (which was a little over five years), you always had this kind of schoolgirl crush on him that eventually turned into full blown love for the man. You knew that you shouldn’t, as the work you did was dangerous, unpredictable; but you couldn’t help the way you felt.

There was a knocking at the door, and you sighed, hoping that it wasn’t Sam. “Who is it?” You asked.

“Dean,” the voice replied. “Can I come in?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you smiled, quickly changing positions so you were now sitting up in bed. Dean opened the door and stepped inside, still wearing his pajamas that he was in when you woke up this morning. Without having to say it, he closed the door behind him. “What’s up?”

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you felt your heart sink. Did he hear what Sam and I were talking about this morning? You thought. Shit.

“Sure…” you replied with hesitation. “You can come sit too,” you said, patting a spot on your bed.

He smiled at you one of those genuine type smiles he always seemed to reserve for only you, and sat down on the bed a few feet away; but close enough that you could reach out and touch him if you wanted to. “So, I’m not sure how to really start this conversation.”

Your heart began to sink even further. But at the same time, it was beating unbelievably fast like it would bust out your chest in seconds. “Did you hear Sam and I talking outside your door this morning?” You spat out.

“Yeah,” he answered; and your palms have never been so sweaty. “That’s actually what I came in here to talk about.”

“You don’t have to,” you said, trying to quickly change the subject, as you felt a rejection coming; a rejection that you weren’t necessarily prepared to deal with right now. Yes, you knew that he didn’t have romantic feelings for you, but you weren’t prepared to have this conversation this early in the morning, and especially after having a fun night watching movies together in his bedroom. “I know you don’t feel the same way I do, trust me.”

Dean couldn’t help but give you a confused expression. “Y/N, what makes you think I don’t?” He asked, genuinely curious when it came to hearing your thoughts.

You started twiddling your thumbs, refusing to look at him. “I just…I don’t know…I figured I wasn’t your type,” you confessed, mumbling. Almost so inaudible that he almost couldn’t even hear you.

“What do you think my type is?” He asked. He didn’t really think he necessarily had a type. Then again, you and Sam would probably beg to differ on that account.

“Thin and supermodel like,” you said, still mumbling and still refusing to look him in the eye. It killed him that you refused to look at him; because one of his favorite things was looking into those Y/E/C eyes of yours. “I know I’m not super thin, or have the looks of a supermodel I mean…I like food,” you slightly chuckled. “I got a muffin top even though I workout everyday. My arms and legs aren’t toned. I don’t have…a huge chest I mean…” that’s when you finally looked up at him, but there was sadness in your eyes. “I’ve seen the girls you flirt with. They’re the complete opposite of me. I mean, you flirted with me when we first met but I honestly thought you were just being nice and trying to add another person to your body count list.”

He just stared at you, slightly heartbroken that you had felt that way. He hated that you felt that way about yourself, because that was the complete opposite of how he felt. “Sweetheart, you’re fucking beautiful to me,” he said, his tone not the least bit joking. “You’re basically my dream girl.”

You furrowed your brow, obviously not believing his words. “I highly doubt that. Cause if you’re my dream man, I ain’t your dream girl.”

Dean smirked. “I’m your dream man uh?”

“Obviously,” you confessed. “You’re always so kind to me and others. And you actually make me feel like I matter.”

“You do matter Sweetheart,” he said, finally reaching out for your hand and taking it in his. “You matter so much to me.”

“But as a sister,” you added.

“No. Not even remotely,” he corrected.

“I’m not following,” you said, furrowing your brow again with that stable confused expression on your face.

“Sweetheart…” he took a deep breath, trying to gather his words. “You matter so much to me that it fucking scares me sometimes. Yeah you’re family but…I love you more than a sister,” he told you. “And the way I just phrased that sounded a lot more creepy than I intended that to sound, but I hope you know that I’m saying here.”

“I think so…” you trailed off.

“I love you romantically not like sisterly,” he said, trying his best to make his feelings clear. “And, I’ve felt like this for a long time. Since…fuck, five years?”

“Five years?” You exclaimed, unsure if you had heard him right. He nodded. “Five years? You’ve been in love with me for five years?”

“Yeah…” it was his turn now to look down and not look at you. “I just…I don’t know. I didn’t want to fuck anything up cause I love hunting with you and I love having you here at the Bunker. And I honestly didn’t want to picture what life would be like without you anymore cause I’m so fucking used to you being here.”

“I didn’t want to fuck anything up either,” you admitted. “I love living here and I love working with you boys and…I didn’t want to go back to how my life was before meeting you two, before meeting you especially.”

“You’re one of the best things to ever happen to me, you know that?” Dean said, sharing the same sentiments.

“Likewise,” you said, the two of you smiling in unison.

“If it’s okay with you, I’m gonna kiss you now. That forehead kiss you gave me this morning wasn’t enough for me,” he admitted, his voice sounding slightly embarrassed.

“Yes you can kiss me. And you can kiss me wherever and whenever you like to,” you smiled, and his lips turned into a smirk.

“Wherever uh?” He winked.

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[chanandlersstuff]

Little Miss Director and Starboy.

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x Reader.

Summary: The timeline of how Hayden gradually fell in love with her until he was madly in love, to the point of no returning.

Word count: 8.457

Warnings: Not much actually, age-gap and a slow burn.

Author’s note: It’s the first time I write something about Hayden so I hope you like it. I have nothing against his private life nor his love ones, this is just for fun. With that been said, I had this idea in my head for a long time and it will have two more parts.

gif credits @haydenchristensengifs

Next Part →

May 2019, first meetings.

When he was offered the role of Anakin again for Obi-Wan’s series, he jumped in without thinking twice and that’s how he met her. He saw her face for the first time on a tiny screen on his phone. The first few things he noticed about her were that she used glasses, her voice was sweet, that she smiled pretty much all the time and that she was young, several years younger than him.

She was very polite and enthusiastic, telling him all about the ideas for the series and explaining everything about the project. Maybe revealing a few things she shouldn’t but he didn’t care. She kept it professional but light, which he thanked because acting formally in the comfort of his house while wearing joggers and slippers was a no can do.

A few weeks after that he hopped in a plane and flew all the way to the studios, where she worked, to meet with her and talk about the project. He was directed to her office, where she was supposed to be expecting him but she wasn’t. “I’m sorry Mr. Christensen, but she will arrive in a few minutes.” The boy behind the desk said with a polite smile. “Please follow me.” He got up and walked towards an office at the end of the hallway. “You can wait for her in her office.” He opened the door. “Feel free to get comfortable.” The boy smiled. “Would you like something to drink?”

Hayden looked around the room, it was big; but not too big, painted white with big windows that let all the light enter and a little sofa with a desk in the middle. “No, thank you.” But the main thing he noticed was the lack of personal things in it. No photos on the desk, instead, little drawings stuck to the computer and an old video camera from the ‘90s on one of the shelves, which he found odd. 

He stood watching the window and how the sun illuminated everything around. A couple of minutes passed by when he heard voices outside the office. “Hi, Charlie, how are you?” The same sweet voice reached his ears. Some muffled words and the sound of boots against the floor. "What? He's in there?” She whispered-shouted. “He's early!” It was true, Hayden was early. A trait he picked up from his father. "I know!" The boy at the reception whispered-shouted too. "He’s cute.” Hayden smiled a little at the words. “Charlie! Unprofessional.” It wasn’t as if he was eavesdropping, they just happened to be speaking not so quietly. “I’m not ready.”  He heard her say. “Yes, you are.” The boy encouraged her. More muffled sounds reached his ear. “Fake it, till you make it.” He smiled at the phrase and moments later the door was opened.

He turned around and she was there with a nervous smile on her lips, not like the ones he saw on Facetime. “Hi.” She said, blushing a little.

The brunette walked closer to greet her properly. “Hello.”

“Wow, you are tall.” She said rapidly under her breath, but he heard it, making him laugh.

“I got that a lot.” He extended his hand and she shook it. To the list of things he noticed about her, he added that her hands were cold, despite the warm weather outside, and full of small classy silver rings. She apologised about it but he was focused on looking at her. She was small, a little smaller than average, barely reaching his chin. Dressed in black Doc Martens, light colour jeans, a fitted black t-shirt and a red leather coat. Long straight hair and no glasses on. 

She hung her bag and coat and smiled at him, a more natural one. “Can I offer you something? Tea? Coffee? Orange Juice?”

“A tea would be nice, thank you.” She nodded and ordered Charlie, the boy behind the desk at the front, a tea and a coffee.

“Shall we?” She gestured to the sofa for them to sit down.

He tilted his head to the side. “By all means, it’s your office.” He let her walk in front of him, as the gentleman he was taught to be.

She looked around with a tiny smile on her lips. “Yeah, I still don’t believe it.” 

“You have a beautiful view.” He added.

“Yeah, doesn't it?” She asked happily and looked around. “First of all," he was the object of her gaze again. "thank you for coming all the way here just to chat about this.” 

“Not at all, it’s a pleasure. And far easier than talking on the phone.” He sat more comfortably.

She laughed and nodded. “I like this kind of human contact, I feel like there’s nothing left to guess, or misunderstood, and I also believe it is more personal.” He agreed, noticing she moved her leg nervously. Another thing to add to his list about her. “I will try to not occupy much of your time and don’t bore you.” She joked.

But he shook his head “No, nothing of that.” trying to reassure her. 

A knock on the door interrupted him. “Sorry.” She got up and opened the door. Charlie entered with the two cups and left them on the desk. “Thank you very much, Charlie.” The boy smiled and walked away. “Sugar? Sweetener?” She offered him.

“Sugar, it's fine.” She passed him the little packets while she poured a little one of sweeteners into her cup. The pleased smile on her lips, when she took the first sip, would always be tattooed on his mind.

Hayden asked the normal things about the project and she told him everything she could about it. Slowly, bit by bit, he saw how she was more nervous-free and how excited she was for all the things she was telling him about. “But it’s still in diapers, we are still figuring things out. I’m still figuring things out.” She played with her hands. “The writers started putting everything on paper and I’m working with the executive producers about the cast.” She ended with a smile.

“It’s your first big project?” He asked, taking a sip of his tea. She laughed a little, moving her head side to side, it wasn’t a yes but neither a no. “How old are you?” That was a question he had in mind for a while and hoped it didn't sound rude.

“Twenty-seven.” He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “I know, too young and very big, immense, shoes to fill.” She said with a bored tone like she got that too much. 

Hayden shook his head. “I was 19 when I took the role of Anakin and felt the same way. Everything is going to be fine.” She looked at him a little unsure. “If they choose you to be here, it’s because you are the best. Don’t let them intimidate you, otherwise they will eat you alive.”

She smiled at him, big and brightly. “Thank you, Hayden, truly.” Her eyes accompanied the smile, kind and truthful.

All of a sudden, he turned shy by being under her gaze- What? Shy? Come on man. -so he shrugged and changed the subject. Trying for his life to not blush at how sincere and kind her eyes looked at him moments prior.

October 2019, surprise surprise.

By the second time they met in person, they had been talking a couple more times by the phone, she asked a few things about what he felt about Anakin, what were his thoughts about him and things like that.

Hayden was walking towards her office, for some reason he wanted to see her before going to meet with the writers, executives and a few of the characters for the first reading of the script, which was going to take a few days, to see if everything was going according to plan, smoothly. 

He entered the office and Charlie was there, sitting behind the desk, just like all those months before. They made small talk while the boy accompanied him to her office. When he opened the door, she was looking down at some papers on the desk and her hair was up supported by a pen. “Perfect, Charlie, sorry to bother you, but I'' Who apologised to his assistant for asking something? Always so polite.

When she looked up, her eyes opened big in surprise at seeing him. Hayden realised she was wearing the glasses she wore when they first met and that with the light entering the room her eyes shined. Maybe it was my presence? No, it couldn’t be. It was 100% the light, for sure. “Hello.” He said with a kind smile on his lips.

“Hi.” She smiled brightly, just like she usually did. Usually as in the two times he saw her, one in person and the other by a screen. “You are early.” She looked at the watch on her right wrist.

“Again.” He joked earning a laugh from her.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” She pointed at the sofa where he sat months ago, a vase with white jasmines on the little table there. “Tea?” He nodded and when she was about to ask Charlie the boy nodded and walked away with a tiny smile on his lips.

He, for sure, made himself comfortable and started walking around the office. It didn’t seem empty as it did before, now it had books on the shelves; a few more drawings, it was more cosy, and the same video camera was still there on one of the shelves. He traced it with his finger, slowly, trying to not damage it. “That camera was the thing that started everything, it was my father’s but I made it mine.” Her sweet voice became sweeter.

“It was your first camera?” He turned around to look at her and she nodded with a smile on her lips. Was she always smiling?

“I used to record everything around me with it.” The papers on her desk were long forgotten. “Everything that made me happy, to never forget it.”

He smiled at her way of seeing things. “You still do?”

She hummed. “From time to time, when I’m utterly, incandescently, happy.” He was about to comment on that but she interrupted him. “Besides, vintage makes everything look good.” She laughed and he did too.

Charlie entered right when their laughs were in sync and their eyes shined. “Your tea, Mr. Christensen.” The boy left the drink on the small table there and walked away with a smirk on his lips.

“Are you ready for today?” With a few strikes, he sat on the sofa facing her. She nodded, biting her lips, while arranging the stacks of papers on her desk. He was about to comment on something about her nervous behaviour but chose against it, afraid of making her more nervous. “Did you eat something?” She shook her head. “You want me to grab you a coffee or something?”

She looked up to him. The same kind eyes of all those months back were looking at him “No, thank you.” and shook her head. “If I drink coffee now I’m afraid I will not be able to sit still on the reading table.” A little laugh escaped his lips and the same shyness, and blush, from months ago, appeared again making him clear his throat. Get it together.

With small talk, his attempt to take her mind out of what was about to happen, the time had passed and they had to go to meet the rest to do the first reading table. They exited the office and, as the gentleman he was, he offered to carry all the papers in her hands, but she refused it. Claiming that she was more than capable of doing it herself.

For the first time since he saw her that day, he paid attention to her whole outfit and it was much more formal than the one she used the first day they met. Little heels that made her reach his mouth, black tights, a skirt with a little cut on the side that fitted quite well and a black shirt with the first two buttons undone. And she smelled like jasmine, like the ones in her office.

They reached the room where everything was going to unfold and she stopped a few meters from the door. “You okay?” Hayden asked her and she nodded. “You need a minute?” She nodded again and he gave it to her, even took a step back and let her gather her strength.

The brunette watched her take a few deep breaths and move her head from side to side. “Okay, you got this.” He heard her mumble and a smile appeared on his lips. After a few seconds, she turned around and looked at him. “Ready when you are,” she joked.

He got closer to her laughing, “Ready.” She nodded and he held the door for her to enter first, he walked after her.

Ewan was already there, the executives and the three writers too. The two long-time friends hugged each other and caught up for a few minutes. “Have you already met our amazing, incredible, director?” The Scottish man asked.

“Yes, I had the pleasure,” Hayden said, looking around for her. She was standing by his side moments ago and now she wasn’t.

“She’s amazing, I have been working with her since the beginning and I promise you are going to be blown away by her.” Ewan was more excited by all that was happening than any of them. 

“I have not a single doubt,” his eyes found her in the mess of people and a smile appeared on his lips.

Four days of the same routine, Hayden would arrive every day a little earlier than the prior just to sit in her office and talk to her. Some days Charlie would have a tea already in the making for him and others he would carry a coffee with a chocolate muffin in hand for her because she tended to not eat.

And his list of things he noticed about her would keep getting longer. Her favourite colour was red, she had a sweet tooth, and jasmines and yellow daffodils were her favourite flowers, she used normal glasses when her eyes got irritated after using lenses all the time; plus according to her, they added dramatic effect when she was stressed, she was left-handed, that she scrunched her nose, but her brows didn’t frown, when she didn’t like something and that she truly, and naturally, was a smiley person. All the things he noticed weren’t personal stuff, she was pretty reserved and he could resemble her about that.

It was the last day of the reading table and truth be told, the script was garbage. It was the same thing as the series that were already being streamed. All those days, and hours spent were futile, the ones he had to be seated at that table, not the ones he was seated on the sofa in her office. They all tried to bring something to the table for the script to work, but it was useless. Everyone knew it and someone had to rip the bandaid off. 

“Well...” the executive producer began, “thoughts?” And they all looked at her.

As if she could feel all the gazes on her, she looked up. “Sincerely?” And they nodded. She looked around the room, Hayden could see her demeanour changed as if she had built a wall inside her and was ready for anything. “It’s the same thing we saw billions of times.” She was straightforward. “If we keep this way, the critic is going to smash us.” She voiced what all of them were thinking.

“Excuse me?” One of the writers said.

She frowned, “we are making a series about an icon of the cinematography universe, whose story is tightly intertwined with one of the biggest villains of history, about a universe that changed lives and the way of seeing cinema and this script-” she picked it up “does not reflect that.” The nervous girl Hayden saw before was left at the door and seated with him was a decisive woman, with her work pants well put on and a clear idea in mind. "This script is too small for a production as big as this one, as awaited as this one."

“And what would you know about making a script for a production this big?” The writer looked at her up and down. “You are just a child, you are too small a director for a production like this.” All the people in the room were surprised at such harsh, disrespectful, words. “Little Miss Director.” He added with a derogatory tone.

Ewan and Hayden were ready to chime in, along with a few other people on the crew, but she beat them to it. “First of all, you are excused.” She raised her chin and sat straight. “Second, I formed myself, I studied and improved after every project I made, it didn't matter how little it was.” Long was gone the sweet tone she carried. “I'm worthy of being here, believe me, I am one of the best out there and I have the skills to direct this project.” She had a cold look in her eyes. “If this is your script, which I guess it is, by how offended you are getting at hearing my honest opinion, maybe it’s you who does not know about big productions.” 

The silence that fell upon the room was a sepulchral one, not even a fly flew around. She kept her gaze on the writer until he stormed off the room, followed by a bang from the door. They all looked that way, but Hayden kept his eyes on her and caught the moment when she let go of a shaky breath and played with one of the many rings on her fingers. Their eyes connected and he frowned, asking a silent question, but she just gave him a small smile, reassuring him she was fine. 

After apologies from the executive producers and the writers on behalf of the rude partner, they all agreed with her that the script was awful and that she was right. Ideas came and went but nothing seemed to fit and be worthy of, the concept they had in mind. “You worked as a writer too for the projects you were on, didn't you?" Ewan asked, looking at her. "Besides, directing them.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yes…” 

“They were very good, award-worthy.” He added making her open her eyes big, Hayden frowned. But when she was going to answer, the Scottish talked again. “Why don’t you write something?”

She seemed caught off guard, Hayden watched how her lips parted a little and her eyes scanned the room, while Ewan had a kind smile on his lips. After all, he was one of the executive producers and he had that kind of power at the table. “Yeah, we will meet in a couple of months and we will discuss it again.” Another executive producer said.

She looked even more surprised, her brows a little more raised than before. “We can work with you, discuss ideas and build the story together.” One of the writers said while the other nodded eagerly. “We will help each other and it would be an honour for us.”

A smile appeared on her lips, but Hayden realised it was a nervous one; not like the ones he saw her make when she took a sip of her coffee, or when she talked about the video camera in her office. “Yeah, okay.” The confident woman who put the idiot writer in his place was gone and the same nervous girl who was left outside the room appeared again. “We can do that. There are a few ideas in here that we can use as a base and build upon them.” She nodded looking at the script as if it was going grow a mouth and eat her alive

The meeting finished after a few minutes and they talked about schedules for the future, which was uncertain until the scripts were ready. When Hayden got up to talk to her she was already on her way to walk away from the room, like her life depended on it, and was left to talk with Ewan, not that he didn’t like catching up with his friend, but if he was honest, he was a little worried about her.

January 2020, first vestiges of emotions.

The last time the pair saw each other they couldn't even have the chance to say goodbye because when Hayden went to her office to talk to her, Charlie told him she was already gone for the day and he was flying back to Canada in a few hours. He weighed the options of calling her, or sending her a text, to ask if everything was fine but in the end, he desisted, to not come up as dense. 

To his surprise, she texted him a few weeks after their last encounter, a simple hello, sorry to bother you, and presenting herself, as if he didn’t know who she was. All that to talk about work, about the script she, and the other writers, were working on.

Finally, it was time to see them, the team, in person. To see her in person. Their routine was picked up where they left it, him taking her a coffee and muffin and a hot tea waiting for him at her desk, and, of course, he arrived early. 

“Hello, Charlie,” Hayden said as soon as he passed the door from his office floor. 

“Hello, Mr. Christensen,” The boy said, despite the multiple times he told him to call him by his name and not that formal title. “She will arrive shortly, you can come in,” Charlie said with a smile on his lips. “You already know the way.” 

Laughing a little, he walked towards her office. There were new drawings on the shelves, still no photos, the video camera was still in place and the smell of jasmine was still there. The sticky posts on the computer were there and despite all his mother's teachings that what he was going to do was impolite, he did it. Slowly he walked to the other side of her desk and readed them. 'Most Ardently’ was writing in one of them with a little heart and clear handwriting, ‘Shine on, you crazy diamond. Love, the kids and I’ that one made him frown. She was married with kids? The kids would explain all the drawings, but she never mentioned anything about kids when he talked about his daughter, and the married thing was hard to guess with all the rings she had on her fingers. She never said anything about being taken, nor had any photos in her office with someone, and she was a very closed person, so he was not going to pray into her private life if she didn’t let anything on. 

And like months ago, when they first met, he heard her sweet voice in the hallway talking with Charlie and it went almost the same way it did the first time, him being cute wasn’t said that time. 

“Hi, Hayden.” She said as soon as she opened the door. When he looked at her he had to suppress a laugh that was about to escape his lips. “What?” She was frowning at him.

His eyes trailed her up and down. “You are under all that?” She was small, that much was a fact, but she looked so much smaller under the, almost, total black outfit she was wearing. A big ass long coat, loose high dress pants, a fitted t-shirt that covered her up to her neck and white Converse, that looked like they were from his daughter from how small they seemed.

“Well yeah.” She took the sunglasses off her head and a few rebel hairs fell to her face making her blow them away. Her silver rings and silver necklace with her initials contrasted with her clothes. “I’m cold.”

“I can see that,” he laughed while walking to greet her. It came naturally to him to kiss her cheek followed by a little. “Hello.” The smell of jasmine invaded him and his voice sounded deeper for some reason. When he moved away, the brunette took notice of how her cheeks and nose were red from the cold. Was it from the cold though? “Are you that cold?”

“Huh?” She frowned like she didn’t understand. “Ah, yeah.” She nodded, and a nervous laugh escaped her lips. 

Charlie interrupted them carrying his tea while she hung her coat and got comfortable. The little interaction was forgotten by the time the boy walked out of the office with a frown on his face, looking at his boss. “I brought you breakfast,” Hayden said pointing at the cup next to her keyboard.

She smiled kindly at him, but that smile changed when she took a sip of the hot drink. It wasn’t a bad change, it was a good one. The way her lips curved gave him flashbacks of the memory tattooed on his brain about the first time he met her in person. He wasn’t afraid of messing up her coffee order, he knew it was the right one because he had picked it up on the few times they had been together.

She seemed less nervous this time around, there weren’t stacks of papers on her desk like the last time, nor she wasn’t running around. She seemed grounded, confident even. He tried to get information out of her about the new scripts but it was impossible, she gave him vague answers with a polite smile on her face, which made him laugh. “You are getting better at this,” he took a sip of his tea, looking at her.

“I know,” she smiled smugly. “I've been taking notes on how not to spill everything about a new project.” The brunette noticed how proud she looked about that. “I wouldn’t want them to fire me for speaking too much,” her tone was a playful one.

He laughed. “They would never,” his eyebrows were frowned and he shook his head. “Not after all the work you’ve done,” he reassured her.

Between sips of hot drinks, Hayden told her about his farm in Canada, about Briar Rose and small things here and there about his life while she listened attentively to all his words. The morning sun entering from the window behind her, seated at his side, added some kind of soft, cosy, effect to the office. Intimate. While they were laughing about something he said, a knock on the door behind him interrupted them. “Come in,” she called, still laughing.

“Hello there,” an accent Hayden recognized very well reached his ears and she started laughing again.

The brunette turned around and standing there was Ewan with a smile on his face. “Obi-Wan,” the pair said, making the Scottish laugh too.

“Good to see you two here.” They all hugged each other. “I was coming to pick our beloved director up but you beat me to it,” he joked looking at him.

Immediately she blushed. “We are having breakfast, would you like something?” She asked in her sweet tone.

“No, no. Nothing darling, thank you.” The trio stood in the middle of the office. “Are you ready?” Ewan asked and Hayden looked at her too.

She nodded, “Yeah, everything’s ready. The scripts are already arranged in the room where we are going to meet, the seats are designated.”

“You are well prepared then,” Ewan said surprised. “Yeah, you seemed more ready than last time when you were running around like crazy until the last minutes,” Hayden added. If his eyes weren’t on her, he would have seen the look in his dear friend's eyes.

“Well, I've had everything ready for like a week or so,” she shrugged but the pair looked at her surprised. “What? I like having things in order,” she defended herself.

It was time for them to meet with the rest of the crew so they walked out of the office, her first, and made their way there. The two men told her about the funny things they remembered while they filmed the first two movies and the technology they had to do it. 

Hayden noticed that she seemed much more carefree this time around than the first time they did the table reading, she didn’t stop at the door to take a deep breath, nor to give herself a little pep talk. She just entered the room like she owned it, like she deserved to be there, which she did, and that made him smile.

Just as she said, the table already had the scripts on it and tags in front of the chairs, it was a completely different room than the one they were months ago. There were different people inside, who were supposed to be the cast, the writers, the executive producers and them. “Ready boys?” She asked with a smile on her lips making them look at each other with their eyebrows raised and they laughed, but followed her nonetheless. 

They all sat around the big circular table, the writers at her sides, while he Ewan, and the rest of the team, dispersed around the table. The crew was also there, seated surrounding them. The reading started but her sweet voice didn’t chime in at any moment, Hayden watched her make notes here and there on her script and whispered with the writers beside her.

They connected eyes more than a few times, she always caught him looking at her for some reason, only a couple of times it was the other way around like they could feel their gaze on each other. Her reaction was always the same, a sweet smile on her lips. Her hair was held by a pen, again, and at some point, she put her glasses on. This time around she didn’t play much with her rings, but she did it with the silver delicate watch on her wrist. 

He looked around the table to watch the crew's reaction and they all had mixed emotions, but they were the exact opposite of what that rubbish script generated. By the time the reading ended, everyone was silent with unreadable looks on their faces. But she was in her world, still making notes. Almost three minutes passed when someone decided to speak. “Well,” Ewan broke the silence, from his tone he could guess, because he had his blue eyes fixed on her, that he was smiling. “Little Miss Director did it again.” She raised her head looking at him.

And looked around the table confused, suspiciously. “Meaning?” Her tone was so unsure, he found it cute.

“It’s brilliant, this is excellent.” One of the producers said.

Everyone chimed in to praise the script, the cast; the crew; and every single person in the room. Hayden watched at how her face broke into a beautiful big grin, eyes shining and cheeks blushed. Her eyes connected with his and he grinned too, that was the effect of her smile. 

The session was over and everybody stood up to leave, and this time she didn’t run away instead stood chatting with whoever approached her. “Didn't I tell you she was brilliant?” Ewan said, clapping his shoulder.

“Yeah, you did.” He nodded and his friend looked pleased. “It’s one of the best scripts I have ever read, well written; well articulated; balanced. It's amazing.” Hayden was speechless at how creative she was, at how amazing she was.

Ewan nodded proudly. “I knew from the moment I watched one of her films that she was perfect for the series, that’s why I recommended her for the position.” He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Plus, her resume is impeccable. She's something else.” The brunette nodded with his eyes fixed on her. “Totally worthy of being showrunner.” Hayden looked at him surprised. “She didn’t tell you?”

He shook his head. “She doesn't talk much when we are together, I do most of it, plus she’s very private.”

“Yeah she is, it took me a while for her to trust me but she would eventually open up,” his friend tried to reassure him. “If she trusts you,” he added, clapping his back laughing. 

Hayden shook his head, “thanks man.” Ewan laughed harder.

“She reminds me of you a little bit when we first met,” the Scottish said and he looked at him frowning. “Incredibly passionate young soul, keen and very creative." 

Hayden smiled at the kind words of his dear friend and found it more special that he found such touching words related to her. He was about to respond when she walked towards them.

"Good job, Little Miss Director." Ewan joked when he saw her.

She laughed tilting her head back but did a little bow, Hayden smiled. "Thank you, Ewan." He bowed his head. "Truly for your trust and help in this process."

He smiled, "It was my pleasure darling." And they hugged.

When they parted, she looked at Hayden with a big smile too. He felt shy under her gaze but enjoyed it too. "Thank you too, Hayden." He shook his head. "For being patient with me and all my questions, helping me and your encouraging words."

Sweetly, as her voice, she hugged him. Engulfed him with her arms around his neck, she was on her tiptoes and he had to bend down a little to put his arms around her back, not her waist because he was respectful. The jasmine scent, her scent, reached his nose making him dizzy. His mouth was so close to her neck, to her pulse point, that if he moved his head a little to the right he would graced it with his lips and he felt her hot breath in his pulse point, making him weak on the knees.

The hug ended far too quickly for his liking. What? When they pulled apart he had to clear his throat and blinked a couple of times. Fucks sake, Hayden, get a hold of yourself. You are 38 and she’s 11 years younger than you, think straight.

February 2020, special day.

It had been a couple of months since he last saw her, which he was thankful about because the hug she gave him was too much for him. Too much for his brain. Too much for his heart. Too fucking much.

He thought that maybe the peace of his farm would give him the clarity he needed but it didn't happen. Not a single clear thought about whatever he was feeling came his way. About work? Yes. About what he was going to eat for dinner? Lots. About feelings, which were a mess? Not a single one.

Ewan and he were talking on the phone about life, making a habit of staying in contact and not like the last decade and a couple of years. They were talking about projects and life, while all Hayden’s brain was screaming was, Ask him about her. ASK HIM! but he tried to not let that part of him win. 

Obviously was futile because he ended up talking about work, which of course ended up with her name being said. “You know anything about her?” He shut his eyes and frowned, with his free hand he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, I talked on the phone with her a couple of days ago. Something about the script.” His friend said and he nodded.

“How was she?” The words blurted out his mouth before he had the time to process them. He was seconds away from smashing his head through the wall if that made him stop thinking about her. Teenage behaviour, right there Hayden. The laughter on the other side of the phone made him shake his head, regretting asking. 

“Fascinated by our Little Miss Director I see.” Ewan teased and he had to hum because if he opened his mouth the teasing would meet no end. “I get it, she’s pretty awesome.”

“Yes, she is.” Well, fuck it, he would embarrass himself for shits and giggles.

The days after his chat with Ewan, where he mentioned her resume, he could have Googled her, to know what his friend meant, but he decided against it. The opportunity, the privilege, of hearing about her life from her mouth would be more rewarding, more special, than reading it on some gossip page.

Ewan laughed again. “It’s her birthday in a couple of days.” His ears perked when his friend told him the exact date when it was. “Did you know it?” 

“No, no. I didn’t know it.” Mentally the date was already marked. 

The Scottish laughed again. “Well now you know, thank me later.” The brunette thanked God that the teasing stopped because otherwise, he was going to mentally kick himself. They kept talking for twenty minutes and the conversation ended with “Send her something pretty!” from Ewan’s part before he hung up.

The date of her birthday came and Hayden kept looking at the phone on his counter, Briar Rose having breakfast next to him. “Are you okay Daddy?” She asked in her sweet voice.

“Yes, sweetie.” He caressed her face. “Just thinking.”

“ ‘bout?” Her big blue eyes looked at him.

He deliberated on telling her about his doubts or brushing them off. “It’s one of my friend’s-” Friend? Was she a friend? Or a colleague maybe? What was she?  “birthday and I don’t know what to get her.” Maybe she would help him decide what to give her.

“What she likes?” She asked, taking a sip from her princess cup.

He racked his brain trying to think about something she told him she liked, but a single thing came up. “Flowers.” Unconsciously he could scent jasmine, even though there wasn't a single one of them in his house. "Jasmine."

“They’re nice and pretty.” That was answer enough for him.

Smiling, he leant and kissed the crown of her head. “You are right, sweetie.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

Giving her a last look, he took his phone and walked to the living room. First tone. You got this. Second tone. Nothing to stress about. Third tone. They're just flowers. Fourth tone and they answered. Too late to back down.

Twenty minutes he was on the phone with the flower shop, twenty minutes where he felt like a teenage boy with a massive crush, a little pathetic if he was honest with himself, and then he went on with his day like normal.

He and Briar were making lunch when his phone rang, whipping his hands on a towel he grabbed his phone and as fast as he picked it up he almost let it fall. Her name appeared on his screen, she was calling. She was calling him.

After coming out of his astonishment, he answered it before she hung up. "Hello."

"Hayden, hi." Her sweet voice reached his ear. "How are you? I hope I'm not interrupting your day." He could hear her walking around her office.

He chuckled. "I'm fine, how are you?" He turned the burner down. "And you are not interrupting, we were making lunch." 

"We?" She cleared her throat. "Sorry. What were you making?" 

"Briar Rose wanted pasta for lunch, so I'm obliging." The little girl walked past him and he caressed her head.

"Nice, it goes great with the cold." The picture of her with her nose and cheeks red popped up on his brain. "I will not take much of your time with her." He shook his head as if she could see him. "I called you to thank you for the beautiful bouquet, I love it." 

He smiled, big and brightly. "I'm glad you liked it." Was she smiling too?

"The note is very beautiful too. My favourite part may I say." The teenage boy with a crush feeling was worthy then.

"I'm pleased to hear, Little Miss Director." He joked, hoping to hear her laugh and he did. 

"How did you know?" She asked curiously.

"A little chatty bird called Ewan maybe, possibly, most certainly, slipped that your birthday was coming up while we talked a few weeks ago.” Hayden knew that wasn't the entire truth, not even close, but just this time he was going to throw his friend under the bus for sure.

She laughed, and possibly she was shaking her head. "Who else if not him?" He laughed too and the background noise became louder. "I'm sorry to cut this short, Hayden, but I got to go." Her kind tone reached his ears.

"No no, please. Duty calls." He thought that she would send him a quick message so hearing her voice was a surprise, although it was for a couple of minutes.

"Bye, I hope your lunch is good. See you later, Starboy." And before he could answer, she hung up.

As if his life was taken from a cheesy rom-com, like the ones he acted in, Hayden stood in the middle of his kitchen looking at his phone as her name disappeared from the screen, but not the feelings from the centre of his chest.

April 2020, Unexpected delight.

His birthday was a special day for him, surrounded by the ones he loved the most. Spending the whole day with his daughter, eating with his family and having a fun time with a few friends. As the private person he was, he couldn't ask for more.

Soon he would have to start training for Anakin's role, so he was enjoying the time off. Briar Rose surprised him with breakfast in bed, helped by his mother, who came around to greet him and helped her beloved granddaughter. 

They were seated in the living room talking about small things and his plans for the day when the doorbell of his front gate rang. “Did you invite someone?” He asked his mother while walking towards the phone he had by the door, but she shook her head. “Yes?”

“Is Mr. Christensen at home?” A male voice said.

He looked at the little screen there and it was a grown man dressed in a FedEx uniform. “Yes, he is.”

“We have a package for him, we need his signature to confirm that he received it.” The man showed the papers in hand and at the box below his arm.

“Okay, I’m coming.” Grabbing his jacket and keys, “It’s a package, I’ll be right back.” he said over his shoulder.

The walk towards the front gate was chilly, he had his hands in his pockets and nose buried in the neck of his jacked. When he saw the guy at the door, the package he had in his arms was a normal size. “Hello.”

“Hello.” They nodded at each other. “You know what it is?” The brunette asked.

The guy shrugged. “No idea, man. It just says fragile and it’s from the US.” Hayden opened the gate and the guy passed him the pen and paper for him to sign. 

He did it, but frowning. It couldn’t be the script, because she would have told him, or Ewan. His friends would have told him if they would be sending him a present, so that wasn’t an option. He tried to think what could possibly be but nothing came to mind. He handed the pen and paper back and the guy gave him the box. “There you go, have a nice day.”

His blue eyes were fixed on the box. “Yeah you too, man.” As quickly as he could he made his way back to the house.

Shaking the box to see what was inside wasn’t an option because it said fragile and whatever it was it could break. His curiosity was getting the best of him when he entered his house. Briar and his mom were still seated on the couch talking but raised their heads to look at him. “What is it, dear?” His mom asked but he shrugged. “From who is it?” He shrugged again. “You know something?” She asked, teasing.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s from the US and it’s fragile.” Her mom frowned. But he walked towards the kitchen and put the box on the counter while he looked for scissors. 

“Can I see it, daddy?” Briar Rose asked from the couch. 

He opened the top drawer. “As soon as I open it, I’m going to show it to you, sweetie.” His voice raised for her to hear him.

The box had a simple black box inside and nothing on it, he frowned again but kept opening it. When he lifted the lid the inside was colourful and smelled amazing. It smelled like jasmine and he smiled. Large pieces of paper, of all colours, surrounded a black cup and a couple of tea bags next to it. He picked up the box and walked towards the living room. “Look, sweetie.”

The little girl opened her eyes big and made space, even though there was plenty, next to her for him to sit. “What is it?”

“A gift.” He said putting the box on the mini table there. The little girl picked up a few of the papers there and started playing with them.

His mother looked at it and smiled. “It’s nice. Who sent it?”

Hayden knew who sent it by the mere smell that came from it, the tea was another clue for all the times they had breakfast together. “A friend.” Two simple words that had nothing simple, describe nothing simple and meant nothing simple to his feelings. His big hand engulfed the cup and lifted it, a laugh came out of him when he saw what was engraved on the side.

Briar Rose and his mom looked at it and the little girl found it hilarious, even though she didn’t quite understand the reference, while her mom laughed a little too. “Storm Pooper.” The girl said between giggles and Hayden laughed at hearing her giggling. 

His mother passed him a white paper folded in half, “there’s a note.” 

Quickly he exchanged the cup for the paper with her and stood up. His name was written in clean neat handwriting and inside were a few simple words. 

Happy Birthday, Starboy, enjoy your day surrounded by the people who are glad and cherish your presence in this world.

 Love, Little Miss Director.

“Someone special?” His mom’s voice brought him back to the real world. He looked at her frowning for a couple of seconds before his eyes fell back to her words. “You are smiling quite big right now.”

Why deny the obvious? “I have to make a phone call, can you keep an eye on Bri?” But he didn’t wait for an answer and walked to the kitchen with his phone.

The last time they talked on the phone was in March for something related to the script, a few questions she had about when he filmed the movies and Ewan was also on the call because the question was directed at him too, so it wasn’t like they talked to each other and it was completely professional. First ring. Keep it simple. Second tone. Casual, relax. Third ring. You are just colleagues, nothing more. Fourth ring. Nothing more because she’s 11 years younger than me. Fifth t- “Hi.” Her sweet voice reached him, a little out of breath as if she was running.

“Hello.” And again, for some reason, his voice went deeper. More than what already was.

Music could be heard in the background. “Did you receive it?” She sounded excited. “Please tell me it arrived whole, please.”

He laughed. “Yes, it did.” She exhaled. “Thank you very much.” He smiled and hoped that she was smiling too. “You didn’t have too.”

“Nonsense.” He could imagine her shaking her head. “Did you like it?” She sounded unsure and he tilted his head to the side. “Because if you don’t it’s okay.” She didn’t let him answer. “I have the sense of humour of a twelve-year-old and I will not apologise for it, but I will understand if you find it hideous.” She used, what he remembered was, her mocking tone and took him back to one of the times he was in her office and they were just chilling. 

“I love it.” He said truthfully and heard her make some victorious sound that made him laugh, which made her laugh. “Briar Rose found it hilarious too.” 

“She did?” She sounded excited again. “Oh, that’s amazing.” He nodded. “When we saw it, I thought that it was hilarious and had to buy it for your birthday.”

He was touched by the sentiment and the gesture. She saw something and thought about me. But the plural pronoun made him frown, it didn’t sit right with him. “We?”

“Yeah, my niece, nephew and me.” She was sharing something private about her. She trusts me. “They are a little older than Briar Rose.”

“Oh.” So the drawings must be from them. But was she married? “Well, you have great taste and as soon as I use it, I will let you know.”

She laughed. “Thank you and I hope you like the tea too.”

“So, what’s up with the nickname?” Since she started calling him like that after her birthday the question has been on his mind.

She laughed. “It seems only fair since I’m Little Miss Director that you are Starboy.” and said in an obvious tone. “Does it bother you? Cause if it does I will stop calling you that.” She was quick to say.

But he shook his head. “Not at all, I’m okay with it.” He heard her hum and, a little afraid, of the conversation finishing there he scratched the back of his head thinking about what he could say to keep her on the phone. “I called in at a bad time?” Hayden wanted to keep talking to her, keep hearing her voice.

“No no, I was cleaning my house, that’s why I was late to answer.” He nodded even though she couldn't see him. 

“On Sunday?” She would notice that you don’t want to hang up, Hayden.

“It’s my only free day.” She laughed. “What about you? Big plans for today?”

They talked for a little while longer, about noncenses, but Briar started calling for him and he didn’t want to take too much of her time, bullshit, so the call was cut short. But the smile he carried for the day was notorious to his mum, to his daughter, to his friends, to everyone who saw him that day, and all because of a phone call with his director.

Next Part →

[acidinbubbles]

🎀Homewrecker🎀

Eren Yeager x Homewrecker! Fem reader

WC:2k +

Synopsis: You didn’t have to be Eren’s girlfriend right? Just his favorite.

Contains: oral (m and f receiving), praise, degradation, hair pulling, drinking, unprotected sex, and probably more!

Notes: I haven’t written in a while so please be nice. Not proof read. Request and submissions are open!

Finals week was finally over, it’s like everyone could finally breathe after that. So of course your sorority threw the biggest party of the year. You were wearing a skin tight black bodysuit with black gogo boots. It was definitely giving body. You, Ymir, and Historia were taking shots in the kitchen. “Wow y/n are you sure you’re not down for a threesome?” Ymir joked, “Very funny, but you two are not in my league.” You all laughed at the flirtatious jokes you guys were throwing back and forth. Historia poured more shots “To y/n, who better get it in tonight.” Historia cheered before you all downed your shots. “Eren is looking really good tonight.” you said with a smirk. And he did look really good, but in your drunken state. You almost forgot he had a girlfriend, she didn’t go to the same college let alone live in the same state. But he did have a girlfriend. Luckily you had no morals, you wanted him so badly and you were determined to have him. You didn’t have to be his girlfriend, you just wanted to be his favorite secret. A low voice spoke from behind you “Good luck with that.” It was Armin sneaking behind you to grab a bottle of vodka. “Eren is loyal, he loves Mikasa. He would never cheat on her, especially with a girl like you.” Did you hear him correctly? You quickly spun around getting in his face “What’s that supposed to mean Arlert?” Ymir and Historia were standing behind you giggling, invested in the drama. Armin quickly got flustered realizing how badly he phrased that “I didn’t mean it like that! Eren only likes sophisticated women, and you can’t deny the fact that you’re a bit wild y/n.”. You didn’t know if you should be offended or not but you chose the high road, kinda. “Whatever Armin, you’ll see.” And you were in the right for thinking that, because little did you know Eren was struggling.

Eren's relationship with Mikasa had been going downhill for a while. She had been so busy with college they had barely been talking to each other, and when they did she was constantly accusing Eren of cheating. When Eren had been painfully loyal to her, do you know how many girls lust after Eren? And he says no to every single one. But truth be told he was getting tired of Mikasa. Not to mention she never did anything sexual over the phone because she thought it wasn’t “ladylike”. So not only was she just being a bitch she was leaving Eren sexually frustrated. He was hitting rock bottom with her, so here he was at the party trying to drink and distract himself from his failing relationship. Until you approached him with two shot glasses in hand. “You look so sad, do you want a shot?” You said with a smile, Eren had heard about you. You were hot, amazing in bed, smart, and fun. You honestly sounded exactly like what he needed right now. Your bodysuit was doing your body wonders, Eren was looking you up and down, the bodysuit outlined your curves perfectly. But he couldn’t do it to Mikasa as much as he wanted to, but you could be friends. Right?

Eren took the shot from you “Yeah something like that.” he said with a small smile. God, you were going feral for him, his hair was tied back messily, the gray sweats and tight shirt combo had you clenching your legs together. “Well cheers to new friends!” you cheered your shot glasses and tapped them with Eren before you both took your shots. Historia came running from the kitchen “Hey y/n we’re gonna play truth or dare with the rest of the group wanna come?”. You turned to Eren “Only if my newly found friend comes.” Eren looked at you before sighing, “I guess it could be fun.” Historia squealed “alright we’ll wait for you up stairs.” Historia ran upstairs. You grabbed Eren’s hand and led him upstairs.

You’re now sitting in a circle with Ymir, Historia, Sasha, Connie, Jean, Annie, Hitch, and Armin. And of course you and Eren. Ymir spun the bottle first and landed on Jean “Jean truth or dare?” Jean pondered for a minute “Truth.” Ymir thought for a moment before speaking, “Fuck marry kill, Sasha, Hitch, andddd y/n.” Jean scoffed “Well that's easy definitely fucking y/n” he shot you a wink, you smiled. “Marrying Hitch.” Hitch groaned in disgust. “And killing Sasha.” Sasha laughed, “That’s fair.” Jean spun the bottle and it landed on Armin “Armin truth or dare?” “Dare” Jean chuckled “Kiss the person on your right.”. Armin’s face became red, the person on his right was Annie, and everyone knew Armin had a crush on Annie. So he shyly scooted over and gave Annie a small peck. Before sliding back to his spot.

A couple more rounds went by before the bottle finally landed on you, Historia asked you “Truth or dare y/n?”. You smiled at her “Dare.”. “Kiss the hottest guy in the room.” Well that was easy, you turned to Eren. You saddled on top of Eren’s lap and for some reason he couldn’t push you off. Maybe because sense you first talked to him he hasn’t thought of Mikasa once, maybe because of you how you were deliciously rubbing against his dick, or maybe it’s because of how fucking amazing you’ve looked all night. Regardless of the answer he couldn’t turn you down, so when you snaked his neck in your arms and pulled him in he didn’t fight it. He put his hands on your hips pulling you closer. He knows it’s wrong and he can feel the pang of guilt in his chest, but it disappears as soon as your lips connect. Everyone gasps, the kiss is deep and messy. His lips are so soft and tender, your tongue slips into his mouth. He tastes so good, the kiss consumes you, you almost forget about the room full of people. That is until Armin coughs, you both break from the trance as you slowly begin to slide from his lap.

Armin gets up, “I think we should call it here” he says. He storms out the room clearly upset about the exchange that just occurred. Eren gets up and attempts to chase after him but you grab his hand looking up at him, giving him doe eyes. He stays, hypnotized by you. You get up and whisper in his ear “Follow me”. You lead Eren towards your room. The party was held in your sorority after all. You entered your room locking the door behind you. When Eren heard the door lock he should’ve left immediately, it’s not too late to fix things with her. But he doesn't, instead he sits on the bed. When you sit on his lap and push him down on the bed, he should throw you off and leave. But he doesn’t. When you start kissing his neck and feeling his abs under his shirt, he should run. But the way your soft lips kiss his neck, your dainty hands playing with the waistband of his sweats. He can’t, he feels the guilt in his chest, but the way you're slowly making your hands and lips closer to his painfully hard dick. Makes the pros outway the cons.

You pull his dick out of his sweats and for a moment, Eren sits up finally ready to put this to an end. “Hey y/n I don’t think I ca-” he stops as soon as he feels your lips kissing his angry pink tip. “It’s okay baby, just let me take care of you.” You start sucking on his tip aggressively, Eren hadn’t had anyone but himself touch his dick for at least 5 months. He was groaning and moaning like a teenage boy, also as eager as one. He grabbed you by your hair and started fucking into your throat. The new found pace had you clenching your legs together and moaning on his cock. “Fuckk just like that y/n.” You used your hand to massage his heavy balls, his dick was repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. There was spit everywhere but you didn’t mind. You’ve had a thing for Eren since you first saw him and you were finally getting what you wanted. Eren's pace grew quicker and sloppier signaling to you he was about to cum, you tapped his thigh. A sign for him to let up, you came off his dick with a pop before standing, you started to remove your shoes and unzip your bodysuit. You didn’t want him to cum just yet. You climbed back on top of him rubbing your clothed pussy on his dick, “I can’t put it in y/n, I just can’t” you pouted. You started rubbing his abs and chest “Please baby just feel how wet my pussy is for you.” . You grabbed his hand and put it in your panties right between your folds and you were right you were dripping. Eren groaned he wanted you so badly but he couldn’t, but maybe he could still help you.

“Come here princess, come ride my face.” you gave in immediately crawling over his body till your cunt was hovering over his mouth. He tore a hole in your panties, you gasped. He pulled you down by your hips and dragged his tongue against your folds, you let a loud moan come from you as shocks went through your body. “Fuck this pretty pussy taste so good.” he growled into your cunt as he spit on your clit lapping it up. He was grabbing your ass pushing you more on his tongue, like was trying to consume you. Choked out gasp comes from your lips when he starts sucking and flicking his tongue on your clit. “Eren” becomes a mantra, his name rolls off your tongue every time he circles your clit. You start shaking and writhing on his tongue pulling his hair “Fuck Eren i- i’m close.” his tongue starts flicking even faster as he buries his face deep in your folds. You grip his hair hard, dropping all your weight on him while arching your back, you cum and you cum hard. Your hips jerk against him as your juices drip down his chin. Eren never faulted though, lapping it all up. If it wasn’t for the booming music downstairs everyone would know, it was Eren who was making you feel this good.

You removed yourself from his mouth sitting by his side playing with hair while staring at his swollen. “ Baby I'm dying to have you inside me.” Eren groaned “I can’t y/n.”. The idea came into your head, if he could eat your pussy and let you suck him off, why would he oppose this? “What if it’s just the tip?” Eren looked at you concentrating hard like he’s fighting a war with himself, and you can tell he’s losing. “Just the tip?” you smiled “Yes I swear.” he contemplated for another moment before agreeing. You quickly got on all fours feeling Eren line up behind you. “Just the tip” he says but to be honest it sounds like he’s talking to himself more than you. He puts the tip in and god, it’s almost enough to make you cum again, “Fuck your pussy is so fucking tight.” You start rocking your hips back on his dick, and he tries to hold your hips in place but it doesn’t make much of a difference since he’s rutting into you as well. “Fuck it.” is all he says before thrusting into fully, you let out a silent scream moan from the burn. Not only was dick fucking huge it was thick as well, stretching you out so good. “Just like that baby” you rock your hips to meet every single one of his thrust, your mind begins to fog as he hits your spot every time he slides in and out of you. “Fuck y/n I think this is the best pussy i’ve ever fucking had.” you moan hard at that. The fact he thinks you're better than his bitch girlfriend has you tightening around his cock. “No girl wil- will ever make you feel as good as I can baby.” Eren starts fucking you at a animalstic speed. Pulling your hips back every time he slams into you, the oxygen from your lungs starts to disappear the way he drills into you. You grip the bed sheets under you when one of his hands goes from your waist into your hair. Pulling it so your back is arched slightly “You like that hm? Fucking slut.” He drops you back down just in time for your orgasm to start raging through you like a vicious storm. Eren slams into you one more time before the coil snaps you let out a scream of his name along with a screaming moan. “Fuck princess im gonna cum.” As Eren was wildly chasing after his release it was like a knot was untying inside you, like an explosion of ecstasy was about to explode and it did. Your juices gushed from you all over Eren’s abdomen, you cunt sucking his dick in. Deliciously tightening around you “Fuck that was hot.” was all Eren could say before painting your insides, emptying 5 months worth of cum into your spent cunt. He rode out his orgasm, filling you to the brim before slowly pulling out and laying beside you.

You both laid together gasping for air. Instead of the intense guilt Eren should be feeling, all he felt was bliss he didn’t want to leave so he didn’t. He laid by your side holding you and kissing your forehead. It didn’t matter that he had 3 missed calls from Mikasa, it mattered that he was here with you, in your bed, with someone who actually cared. Eren might have made a mistake but he’s not gonna let it go to waste. Little did Eren know he was going to be yours, you decided that when he fell asleep and you shut off his phone while Mikasa was calling him at 4 in the morning. Sleeping in your bed, cuddling with you, not her.

AN: I hope you guys enjoyed let me know if you want a part 2 on Mikasa finding out;)

[ghostykapi]

Lunch

kim dahyun & fem!reader

:3 spice so kids scram

dahyun isn’t sure that this is a good idea

the cameras are rolling though, so the production staff thinks it is a good idea

twice has been booked and busy with schedules. any time to rest seems like just enough to have some sleep, so any free time for dahyun to properly spend with you is through mundane tasks and in between schedules

normally this wouldn’t be such a bad thing, but today is different.

yesterday morning she woke up to you rummaging through the drawers, only in a sports bra and shorts after a morning run. the problem of her neediness starting from there.

lunch at her favorite restaurant wasn’t any better, your y2k inspired outfit providing her eyes a feast. the fit crop top and the low rise jeans proved to be a dangerous combo. her hands wouldn’t leave your waist even during practice later that afternoon

the late dinner back at home made her frustration grew. your choice to wear only a oversized shirt making her fight the air. your innocent smile and your sleepy demeanor preventing her from pouncing on you at all

now she sits and looks at the mirror with a stoic face, trying to keep it together as her eyes wander to you. the sports bra and baggy sweat pants combo isn’t a wow eye popping combo to anyone, but when she sees the way it highlights your abs and arms and your oh so bitable neck she kinda loses it

she’s barely even listening, save for the important key phrases she heard from the choreographer, so much so that when a quick 15 minute break is in session, she’s still breathing deeply and staring at you, wondering if you’re thinking the things she wants to do to you

the cameras sitting inside of the room also like the view, with you always interacting with it, telling silly things to once that will only be heard once the comeback is in full swing

“guys” you’re whispering to the camera, so sure that the others won’t hear “dahyun looks so pretty today but i won’t tell her that, so instead i’m going to bother her”

you smile, with your sharp teeth and all, before bouncing away from the camera and to dahyun, who’s hands immediately cover you up with her jacket that she brought

“i can’t believe you” she’s barely even mad, she’s just pretending to scold you so she doesn’t get distracted

“but” you pout “you like this outfit”

“i do” her voice lowers, and it gets you thinking into something “but i don’t like sharing remember?”

“i do” dahyun barely notices it, but you’ve managed to lead her outside of the practice room and into a convenient ‘out of order’ comfort room “i just wanna look good for mommy”

that short circuits her brain, the panic visibly shown on her face and it makes you giggle. it’s then that you lock the door, push her to sit on the marble sink and kiss her, hands gripping on whatever clothing that it can hold

“baby” she’s trying to push you away, but she knows if she continues any longer than this she will not be able to focus at all in practice “baby please”

her hands, are now scratching your exposed skin, not enough to leave any marks but enough for you to whimper while kissing her

“can’t keep your hands to yourself mommy?” you’re voice is her favorite sound, but when it’s raspy and needy for her it makes her lose her very composure “i know what will help”

she tries so hard, she really does, but when you lips kiss her neck, she lets out a moan that she is quick to cut off, remembering where they are

“shhh you don’t want the others to hear you don’t you?” dahyun must be under a spell, because now you’re hand has manage to pull down her sweatpants and underwear, leaving for you to use your fingers to part her lips, simply teasing her even further “unless of course you like that mommy. you want them to see how much of a good girl i am for taking care of you hm?”

you’re evil, laughing as you get on your knees and make a show of making a one slow lick from bottom to top

dahyun prays to god for the strength she needs to stay absolutely quiet

“we don’t have time” despite how evil you can be, you know when to not push your luck today. so get to work and start eating her out, a finger teasing her entrance while you do

it doesn’t take long, your enthusiasm and dahyun’s neediness, your now pumping in two fingers at a respectable fast pace, all while you’re eating her out like you’ve been starving for days

“that’s it” with this rate of your fingers moving and your tongue, dahyun wishes she can be a bit more louder, but she settles with deep breaths and holding your hand “so good baby, you’re so good at fucking me”

you’re sure to make her weak to even practice for the next hour, because your nails are digging on her thighs, said thighs are crushing your head and her hands are desperately grasping anything other than your hair and the white marble counter to get a grip

she’s so close, the peak is right there. just within one’s grasp. she just needs to hear you say the words

“cum for me”

dahyun’s moan is cut off, the only sound both of you can hear is your own mouth on her pussy, sucking and lapping any of her cum that’s dripping out of her. she can barely breathe, and yet when she looks down at you, looking up at her with doe eyes and a lopsided smile, scattering kisses all over her thighs, her brain goes a bit overdrive

in the nick of time you manage to clean her up and help her get back her reigns, promising to give her some of your energy bar and your sports drink to keep her energy up through the day. her body leaning towards you as you both finally move to leave the ‘pit of order’ comfort room

“you want to continue that tonight?” you can’t wait for tonight, can’t wait for her to get back at you and claim what’s hers

“tonight” you let her kiss you again to seal the deal “i’ll get back at you tonight”

the thing is, as you both emerge from the ‘out of order’ comfort room, both mina and momo also emerge from the supply closet just a couple of steps down

dahyun and mina both stare at each other, faces red at the realization of the implication

you and momo simply smile at each other, happy to get a early lunch

[sehodreams]

cherry blossom scars

TW and tags: tattoo artist!Wonbin x insecure!reader, surgery scar, pierced nipples, nipple play, mutual masturbation, tons of overthinking and word vomiting, corny as hell, fluff, kind of dom reader but not much.

WC: 9.3k

Comment: hi guys, I made brief descriptions of the scar, to be honest, I don’t have one or ever had surgery, so I’m not exactly sure how one would look, I just saw a couple of pictures on the internet and wanted to write something about it, hope it’s okay. I didn’t sleep at all to finish it because I knew I’d leave it in a draft if I didn’t write it in one go. Probably has mistakes and inconsistencies. I don’t know anything about piercings, tattoos, or early education.

While growing up, as weird as it sounds, summer was your favourite season. You remember a lot of things about it, how your parents would drive to the coast to spend the day at the beach, playing in the water with the friend your parents had agreed to take with you, and eating the most boring sandwich your mother could make in a busy morning that felt like a feast in your mouth after swimming for hours.

It was all good, until you started to grow up. Your parents had no time to take you anymore, your friends had better things to do, and you had entered the phase of your life in which you hated the idea of wearing a swimsuit if you weren’t perfect.

Perfection is, as you thought after a particular summer, simply not you.

Perhaps your mother hadn’t said it with bad intentions, she was your mother after all, and you were sure she loved you, but that little phrase had impregnated your head like the gum on your head one of the boys in class thought it looked good smeared on your hair.

‘’I don’t think you should wear this blouse doll’’ she said, showing you her selection instead.

‘’Why? I like it, and it’s too hot to wear normal shirts’’ you replied, feeling your arms sweat just with the simple action of changing into the clothes you were wearing.

‘’It’s just… the scar is showing’’ she said, pointing at the line that went from the start of your shoulder to the middle of your chest.

It was a long line, thick, slightly red and purple, noticeable from the way it would get deeper into your smooth skin, surrounded with thin little lines that looked like roots expanding to grow. You were just fourteen, not thinking much of it; actually, not even thinking about it until she talked about it.

You spent the summer with short-sleeved shirts, leaving all the dresses with thin straps and anything that showed your cleavage behind. You could, never again, wear anything that did.

It didn’t matter how many creams your mother bought, or how many treatments in clinics you received, it stayed there with you, like a mark of how fragile your body was, and how easily you could break with a simple fall.

You had gotten hurt after biking with your friends and making a wrong turn. You fell with a strong thud, and you don’t remember much about what happened that day anymore, because when you were conscious again, you already had the scar there. Less to say your parents banned you from riding a bicycle ever again.

So, it’s not difficult to guess why you hate summer now. You can’t wear the clothes you want, you’re a broke college student living alone with no AC, and you have to walk everywhere with the fear of getting a heatstroke.

To your luck, or disgrace, today you run out of clean t-shirts acceptable for the weather, and you simply refuse to wear a long-sleeved one, resolving to grab one of the thin straps that you usually wear when you’re alone in your room.

You don’t think much about it. You’re going to your friend’s place, and she should have a shirt to lend you around there. Still, not even the thought makes the journey bearable.

You’re anxious in your seat, listening to some podcast you had found about old music (you don’t know if to call it old since it’s the 90s, but your friends didn’t even watch programs that weren’t from your century, so to avoid all explanation you simply say you like old music), when you feel weirdly observed.

Looking in front of you, a mother is carrying his child in her arms, who is looking intensely at you. You smile because the kid is cute. He has big eyes, almost black, and chubby cheeks. He must be at least four years old, and when you wave your hand to say hi, he points at your chest. You know what he’s pointing, and you nod as if you explained everything with that move.

When the mother turns at you, directing her eyes at what her son is watching, and sees you, she smiles and then her face falls, almost as abruptly as you did that day from your bicycle, and she apologizes for her son.

‘’He didn’t do anything’’ you say, and she denies it.

‘’He shouldn’t be looking at you like that’’ she answers.

‘’Why?’’ you ask.

‘’Because…’’ she can’t finish her sentence. You kind of know what she refers to. Because you’re hurt, and we can all see it. You almost want to correct the words she didn’t say because the kid doesn’t look at you as if you were a monster, he’s just curious, while she is the one doing it.

‘’He’s cute’’ you say instead.

‘’Thank you’’ she answers.

‘’Be careful when he grows up’’ you say. ‘’Because…’’

Because he could look like me it’s implied, and the mother looks at you horrified, as if you had just cursed his son. She quickly gets up and presses the button to get off the bus with such desperation you feel bad for having talked more than necessary.

When you go back to your own thing, you notice something weird again. You lift your eyes, finding the seat in front of you, in which the mother had been sitting just seconds before, empty, and a man beside you. When you meet his eyes he smiles at you, a big grin with no teeth, he’s obviously older than you, with lines of age on his face, normal looking, almost kind, and then, in front of your face, he moves his eyes down to your chest.

Great, now you didn’t have to deal with people staring at your scar, now you had to deal with old men staring at your tits too.

You feel so creeped out by it that you get up and press the button for the next stop. It’s not your stop, but now you can understand why the mother was so desperate to get off. A creep, as normal as they look, it’s still a creep.

Walking the streets at a fast pace, you try to arrive at your friend’s place as soon as possible. You feel even more observed, perhaps it’s because you’re almost running at 36oC and you’re sweating your ass off, but you think it’s because of your uncovered cleavage.

The minute you arrive you start telling your friend everything, from the cute kid to the disgusting man, and she tells you that people usually act dumb, doesn’t matter how you look, people are just people.

‘’It’s their nature, they’re programmed to act like fools, especially men’’ your friend says.

‘’Well, they’re fucking disgusting’’ you answer, grabbing one of her t-shirts and sliding into it to cover yourself like you usually do.

‘’Boys will be boys’’ she finishes, and then she rushes you to finally leave.

You have to go to a pool party (a private party he has clarified), and you honestly would’ve refused on any other occasion, but Sungchan, the owner of the house and your friend’s boyfriend, was cool enough to not force you to go in when you said you weren’t fond of swimming, nodding in understanding as if you had told him the entire story tale of your life, which was kind of comforting.

Also, since he lives with his parents, he has AC.

At the party, a couple of hours later, when almost everyone is outside enjoying the water, you’re left alone in charge of the snacks and drinks, mixing shit as if you knew what you were doing.

‘’Could I have some of that?’’ one of Sungchan’s friends asks, pointing at the jug you’re holding. You nod, you have no reason to say no, and when he takes a sip of it his eyebrow frowns for a second before he smiles. ‘’Wow, that’s… good.’’

You know it’s not, it’s just rum coke with too much rum and almost no limes, to which you decide to add a bit of sprite to see if it does the gig. It doesn’t, but it could punch anyone into not asking for more and you nod content at the result.

‘’Thanks, I should probably make a career of it’’ you answer.

He flashes you a smile before he grabs a can of Coke to sip it. ‘’Sure, if your goal is to hook more people into going to A.A meetings’’ he says while opening a bag of salt and vinegar chips. ‘’I’m Wonbin’’ he smiles.

You tell him your name and serve yourself a cup too. You try to secretly add more ice to your drink, and he laughs louder when he catches you feigning you were getting ice for the whole jug.

‘’I’ll be honest, I feel like I’ve seen you before’’ he says then.

‘’Well, we’re kind of connected through the couple there, perhaps we crossed each other’’ your finger directs at your friend over Sungchan’s shoulders, laughing and screaming something you can’t understand with the music on out there.

‘’True, but not only that… weren’t you last week at the tattoo shop right next to the bookstore that sells old books no one reads?’’ he takes a sip of the drink with more ice, and he denies, adding the rest of the can of coke he had opened.

‘’Do you mean the Rip Tree? I mean, it’s not Barnes and Noble, but it does the job. I got a nice copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray for four dollars there, and they gave me a bunch of bookmarks for free. Of course, they had the publicity of a nursing home in the back, but I’m sure it’s a completely respectable place to read books at’’ you answer immediately, adding rum to the jug when he laughs so hard his head falls back and his eyes close.

When he leans more to the front and you see his arms flexing, you can’t help but suddenly feel conscious of how much you’re talking to a boy you have just met so freely. Maybe you’ve had too many trial drinks while you were mixing and it had started to get in your head without noticing, it wouldn’t be the first time, and sure wouldn’t be the last time.

He smiles at you with a closed mouth, just like the man you had met on the bus many hours before, but you like this smile. Wonbin, unlike the older man, looks at your face without trailing down.

‘’Well, were you?’’ he asks.

‘’Where?’’ you ask too, because half of the conversation you were having just disappeared from your head when you saw his necklace, almost as pretty as him, glint.

‘’The Ink, the tattoo shop’’ he repeats.

‘’Oh, well yeah, but I just went in because I was curious.’’

You’re lying. You hate lying, but again, you didn’t feel like telling someone you just met your whole life.

You had seen on the internet how some people covered their scars with tattoos, which honestly, seemed like a great solution to your esthetic situation. However, when you crossed the door all your bravery went to hell, especially when the gorgeous admin asked you to see it and then the next time told you that a skin-colour tattoo wouldn’t be possible in your case since the scar was too dark, and that a much better option would be to get one with colours. Obviously, she didn’t know your parents or your career, because who the hell will want to hire a preschool teacher with a colored tattoo? You could already hear the comments, you being so silly to try to cover a scar with a new one, and how improper was for a lady, a teacher, to have one.

He nods at your answer. ‘’Well, was it worth it?’’ he asks.

‘’What? Going in? I guess so, it’s a nice place, a bunch of colours and great walls, they have some interesting draws too’’ you say, also leaning and grabbing a few chips to eat while talking.

Your hand almost meets his when you reach the bag again, and you look at each other’s eyes. He smiles again and you get shy at being that close to him again, pushing your hand into the bag to pretend you didn’t feel your stomach flutter with that silly interaction. He lets you put your hand in first, and then he grabs a couple more, eating them slowly, looking as if he was thinking about something else.

Michael Jackson starts to sound in the background, and you bob your head as instinct to the rhythm.

‘’Didn’t take you for a Thriller girl’’ he says, tilting his head and grinning.

‘’Because I’m not, I’m a Rock with You girl, sometimes a Dirty Diana one too’’ you answer, happy to talk a bit about music you like. Your friends don’t like him that much, but they let you sneak a few songs into the shared playlist, and that’s enough for you.

However, you didn’t choose Thriller for this playlist.

‘’I guess you’re the Thriller guy then’’ you say.

‘’Yeah, I’m a failure’’ he stands, grabbing his cup and sipping before he continues. ‘’But I’d like to hear you teaching me something about him, so I stop being one.’’

Smooth Criminal, you think, letting him guide you to the couch.

While talking, you don’t even realize how much time has passed until you hear the laughs fall and some of Sungchan guests start leaving. The day is well behind, an orange sky out there at 6 pm, and you don’t want to go home.

Your friend had come with Sungchan to say goodbye to some people, and when she asks you if you’re tired, you say that you’re okay, just a little hungry. She nods and orders a couple of pizzas with Sungchan’s phone since hers is connected to the speakers outside.

There are only like 7 people left, including you and Wonbin, who decide to stay on the couch with you when another boy, Sohee, tells him that going to the jacuzzi to submerge his feet should be fine.

You don’t think much about what Sohee says, but you’re too cosy with Wonbin to even think at all.

‘’Won’t you ask why he said that?’’ Wonbin says when you’re alone again.

‘’None of my business’’ you say.

‘’I’m a bit curious though, if you don’t mind me asking why you would prefer to stay here in charge of the bar, because as much as I like your drinks, I don’t think you’re used to staying still in charge of things like this at parties.’’

‘’Well, you’re wrong about that, I enjoy being in charge a lot, and I can do it for many hours’’ you say, not noticing how odd it sounds. He looks a bit shocked at first, and then laughs hard. You can’t go back in time to correct yourself, so you laugh with him.

You start to think that maybe you can tell him, it’s not the end of the world, but you can’t even think about revealing something that deep to him. Well, it’s not that deep, you showed it to your friend literally the day you met her. You were in the cafeteria when you spilt your milkshake over your sweater, so you had no option but to change, and you somehow knew she would be your friend when she laughed and told you to grab her sweater if you were that cold, so you showed it to her.

Still, Wonbin is so pretty, even his teeth when he laughed were pretty, and you couldn’t imagine what he would think if he knew.

You don’t imagine a whole relationship with him to think about his opinion too highly, but there is interest, and you want to keep it there as long as you can.

Being your age and haven’t fucked a boyfriend under the light, you simply couldn’t feel comfortable enough to show it to a boy you barely knew and kind of liked.

‘’Just because’’ you say.

‘’I see’’ he says, knowing there’s something you don’t want to tell him. ‘’Well, a win for me anyways, I’ve learned a lot in just an afternoon’’ he says, making you sigh, glad he changes the subject.

‘’I’m glad I was able to tell you everything Wikipedia has about the most known person in the world’’ you haven’t even stayed on the topic for too long for him to learn something, you just said what songs you liked, then showed him some playlists and laughed when you had songs in common, mentioning little moments you remember while listening to them, like not being able to remember your lines in a school play when they suddenly put Beat It as background music, or playing The Way You Make Me Feel in the speaker when one of your friends wanted to confess to a girl (she rejected them so it’s banned from every shared playlist). You shake your head with a smile, not looking at him when one of his hands gets closer to you, resting behind you on the couch.

Oh, you say in your head. You don’t know how close you’ll let him get, but it feels so right.

You haven’t talked (kind of flirted, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself) with a boy that long in years. You kind of remember Anton from your Art, Music & Movement course with whom you went on a couple (unofficial) dates until he took an exchange program and had to leave for a whole year. Then you remember talking to Seunghan, a guy who gave you his spot in the queue for the bathroom at a concert and with whom you exchanged numbers after he bought you a really overpriced burrito, but he lived two hours away, and you had no energy or time to really be something. And then, then you got no one else.

The room is quiet, you notice. He’s not talking, and neither are you, so you fall into a comfortable silence. You hope he’s not tired yet, you’re not, but maybe your social battery has just died, so you lean into his side a bit more, letting your body relax and your head touches his arm behind you.

He looks at you with a small smile, and you start to inspect his face like you feel he’s doing with yours. He has dark eyelashes, thin, but they’re enough to mark his eyes, and they go well with his black hair. You also notice that his hair is shorter on the back and longer on the front, letting some locks fall around, creating little shadows over his face and covering the end of his eyes. He looks really good with the haircut, but you’ve seen him in pictures with Sungchan before, and he honestly always looks good.

Your eyes fall to his chest because you don’t want to make the moment awkward.

What he’s wearing is simple, a black shirt without sleeves that shows his well-toned arms, skin smooth, almost too perfect, and you can’t help but remind yourself how you’re not as perfect as him.

You doubt he has any flaw like yours, and you don’t mean a weird-looking mole or a scar that anyone could have from childhood, yours is different, too noticeable, impossible to ignore. His whole body was an uninterrupted harmony you couldn’t relate to.

Wait, you stop yourself from thinking too far away. What’s that?

You notice that there, in his chest, under the fabric of his tank top, there’s a bulge you haven’t noticed before, and it’s not his nipples, you’re completely sure of that.

Boys will be boys, and the words of your friend start to echo in your head.

You always hated that phrase. How could they all be so brute and inconsiderate of everyone else that weren’t themselves? The lack of respect to stare at your chest without a care of you disgusted you just hours ago.

And now, you start to ponder if, perhaps, in the end, you’re as brute as the man you met on the bus.

Poor Wonbin is finally filing the silence with something about how he had found a new band not long ago, giving you the exact same charming smile he’s had the whole afternoon, flirty but respectful, making you feel almost guilty from not being able to concentrate on the conversation, too busy trying to not stare at his chest.

You blink twice, trying to look at his eyes again.

It doesn’t work. You can’t ignore it.

It was impossible. They were there, standing under his shirt, calling for you to look at them.

Coughing, you move from the touch of his hand behind you, almost as if it burned you, and drink the almost pure water from the ice that melted in your cup.

You scold yourself. I’m not better than a man, you say in your mind before finishing the opaque result of water, rum and coke in your hand in one go, and then, not having anything else to distract yourself with, you bite the inside of your cheek to distract yourself with the pain.

‘’Sorry, am I boring you?’’ he says not much later, feeling the change in your behaviour.

‘’Eh?’’ you say, turning your body in his direction again.

You notice that his cheeks have a pretty reddish flush, and he stays still, letting you stare, waiting for you to talk. Without a doubt, he was one of the prettiest boys you’ve ever met, and in that moment, you were too dazed into him and his stupid pierced nipples to talk to him as easily as you’d been doing when you didn’t know about their existence.

‘’No’’ you finally say. ‘’I’m sorry, that was rude of me, I had other things on my mind.’’

‘’Like what?’’

You don’t expect him to lean even more into your space and show more interest in what you’ve been thinking about, making you more nervous for not being able to concentrate on another thing that wasn’t him and his pierced nipples so close.

It’s stupid, you can’t help but think. You’re treating him differently. You’ve changed after finding out he has pierced nipples, and it’s exactly what you don’t want to happen to you when people find out about your scar.

‘’Your cheek’’ his hand moves to your face, startling you since he hadn’t touched you that directly the whole night, and with his thumb he caressed the cheek you were obviously biting from the inside. ‘’Doesn’t it hurt?’’ he asks.

You gulp. ‘’Not really.’’

He hums, smiling even more when you move your eyes from his face to his chest, and then, after awkwardly blinking a couple times, looking down to your lap.

A strand of your hair falls out of the lame excuse of a hairstyle you tried to do (not daring to use a ponytail to a party and loose hair with the hot weather) over your face when you look down, and his hand moves on its own to accommodate it behind your ear, the pad of his finger slowly brushing a spot you didn’t know you like, making you melt with his touch like a popsicle in the street at 2PM.

 ‘’It doesn’t hurt either’’ he says. ‘’If you were curious.’’

Not understanding what he’s referring to, you give him a confused look.

‘’What doesn’t hurt?’’ you ask him.

‘’The piercings’’ he answers, laughing when your cheeks get red, and you shake your head to say no.

‘’I-‘’ I wasn’t looking at them, you want to say. It was just untrue, and denying something you’ve clearly been doing since you noticed them would make you look even more pathetic. So, deciding to be different from the shameless man who never apologized to you, you prefer to be honest. ‘’I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have looked at them like that’’.

‘’Why?’’ he asks, and you feel a sense of deja vu.

‘’It’s rude, to stare at your chest’’ you clarify. ’’At least, uninvited.’’

He looks as if he’s enjoying seeing you that embarrassed, almost as pleased as when you bravely talked to him at the bar, when you remember applauding your mind for creating fresh answers. At that moment, your brain seems to have suffered from all the rum you’ve had since you arrived, so it can’t change the subject or give you a quick joke to make the moment less humiliating.

‘’It’s okay, I don’t mind’’ he denies with a breathy laugh, hand moving down from near your face to your arm, sliding until he finds yours, interlocking fingers when he does. ‘’I invite you to do it, then.’’

‘’What?’’ your eyes become bigger and everything around you, mute.

You see his mouth moving and saying something like, I can show them to you, if you want, before he, not waiting for an answer, makes you stand with him. You can’t see what he says after that when he looks back to the crystal door separating you two from the others outside, and then without doubt he makes you follow him.

It wasn’t his place, yet he moved with enough confidence as if it was, dragging you by the hand to the second floor, a place you had never seen even with your constant visits to the place of your friend’s boyfriend. You always stuck to the first floor, not wanting to cross any boundaries with Sungchan, so you feel as if you’re seeing something you shouldn’t when on the second floor, after walking upstairs, you’re received with tons of family portraits showing you his childhood.

You don’t say anything, you let him move you until you both enter a bathroom you’ve never been to. Closing the door, suddenly you can hear again when you recognize the faint sound of music coming from downstairs and some people laughing.

‘’We have to be quick’’ you hear him say after he presses the secure of the door.

The bathroom is smaller than the one on the first floor, almost tiny. There’s only a sink and a WC besides, with a towel hanger under the light and a mirror over the sink. You can hear the vents working when he turns on the light, but you’re too distracted with his whole body trapping you between him and the sink, not giving you opportunity to put any space between you two, to care.

When he shows you a cheeky grin after you lean more into the sink to put a centimetre more between you, nervous of being there with him, close, and obviously about to do something you’re not used to do with people you’ve just met, you don’t care anymore.

His lips are pink and glowing after he licks them, and he’s too pretty for you to say no.

He moves your left hand to his covered chest, and you have to contain the surprised whimper your throat almost lets out when you feel the little thing that has caught your interest since you recognized it.

One of your hands is gripping the marble of the sink with force to maintain you sane, and it works, until he sighs when you flick it.

His face still has that cheekiness that you had understood, from your time talking, characterized him, but it was now mixed with desire, leaving behind the whole courtesy, making him look even better in front of your eyes.

You become needier, if he looks that good with just a flick, you can’t imagine how would he look if you two did more.

‘’Take it off’’ you urge him, not caring that the tone of your voice makes it seem almost an order.

The hand previously glued to the cold surface moves to the border of his shirt, feeling like a punch the warmness of his skin, pushing it up so he does what you asked faster.

‘’Shit’’ he grins, lifting his arms and allowing you to take it off for him. ‘’What happened to the timid girl from before?’’

‘’I’m not usually like this, I swear’’ you say. You want to tell him that no one had made you that eager before, even less with just a look, but again, you had never met anyone, especially a man, with pierced nipples, so he should understand your curiosity when you admire his naked chest and lick your lips before you look at his eyes again.

Growing up as a woman, you have seen firsthand how a good pair of tits could make the smartest and most respectful man a complete asshole. Even the most respectful men that you had gladly called your friends, have been caught by your always wary eyes looking at other women’s chests.

You don’t wear cleavage, so it doesn’t happen to you that much, but just that day a man did it on the bus, like a primitive caveman, a beast, and it’s so embarrassing that you’re acting like one of them in that moment.

Surely, Darwin would be especially disappointed with your regression as a human, but, in your favour, everyone becomes monkeys with the quantity of alcohol you’ve had that afternoon. Also, the weather has a lot to do too, because if it wasn’t that hot, Wonbin wouldn’t have been wearing a tank top, therefore, he wouldn’t have left his ample chest on your eyesight, and that has nothing to do with you. It was all climate change, so perhaps even Darwin would’ve forgiven you for wanting to lick some man’s nipples.

The rum in your system makes your mind babble nonsense and you have to shut your mind for a second. But you want to lick them so bad. You never thought you could fall that low, but there you are, in a bathroom only used to shit at, trying to not moan just from the sight of those pink nipples with little silver beams pointing at you.

‘’I believe you’’ he sighs with a smile, moving further to the wall behind him so you could see his chest better.

You can’t believe your eyes.

You can see the metallic object break through the pink flesh, two tiny spheres on each end of it to not let it move from its place, and you can officially say you have never seen anything that hot in your life.

Hypnotized by the way the object sparkles with the warm light above you two, you timidly move your index fingers to flick them again, making him breathe through his nose and bite his lip to contain himself.

‘’Do they feel good?’’ your curiosity, instead of getting satiated, is growing, and you have tons of questions appearing in your mind.

‘’Per se… sometimes, when I get conscious of them’’ he admits. ‘’But I usually have to touch them if I want to feel something’’.

You flick them again, to then grip them with your index and middle finger and, slightly, almost with fear, twirl them. ‘’Is this okay?’’ you ask, gulping the saliva accumulating in your mouth.

‘’Yeah, that feels good’’ he assures you, both of his hands going to your hips to maintain you in place while his head falls to the wall behind, and he closes his eyes.

You keep doing the same motion, loving the sighs that he leaves out and how a frown of pleasure starts to install on his face. At some point, his own chest is moving with how hard his breath has become, doing the work for you of tugging them while you hold them still.

His eyes are closed and his tongue salutes you when he wets his lips, pressing his hips against you. His boner is appearing there, pressing the mount of your abdomen, but you’re so concentrated on the image in front of you that you can’t care less about him using you to stimulate that area every time his hips push softly into you.

He looks so good like that. You can’t stop yourself from asking when, after twirling them harder, a particular moan leaves his mouth, making you wet. You’re not being touched at all apart from his hands marking your hips with his strength, but your sex was clenching with the pleasure you were giving him, as if those touches were gifted to you too.

‘’Can-Can I lick them?’’ you ask nervously.

‘’Fuck, don’t do that to me’’ his eyelids flutter and you stop all your movements, afraid you’re asking for too much. Shit, perhaps even he thinks I’m crazy, you tell yourself.

‘’Can’t I?’’ you ask, sad of him denying your question, or at least, what you understood as a denial.

‘’Don’t fucking stop’’ he says, one leg going between your thighs and bending it to touch you more. ‘’Do whatever you want honey, I know you’ll do it with care’’.

You don’t need anymore, and moving down your face to his chest, you look up at him with deer eyes, afraid of him stopping you again.

He nods at you, giving you the certainty you want to start doing it.

You’ve never licked another person’s nipples before, so you were unsure of exactly what to do, and remembering what your couple of partners have done before to make you feel good, you press the tip of your tongue over one of them, damping the pink tip and tasting the combination of the flavour of his skin and the metallic object.

Your pussy feels even better with the sensation of it in your mouth, stealing a moan from you.

‘’Shit, you like them that much?’’ he asked, obtaining a nod from you as a response. God, what would your friend say if she found you in that position? You feel sick for a second, but you quickly ignore that thought with the shake of his laugh inside his chest making you look at him instead.

‘’They’re really pretty’’ you say between laps, maintaining eye contact.

‘’Not as pretty as you baby’’, he praises you back.

You moan again with his words, and your eyebrows frown when you feel his knee pressing your cunt, feeling yourself dripping inside your shorts.

‘’You’re doing good baby, keep going’’ he smiles, making you happy with the idea of doing a good job for him.

It’s all so weird. The last thing you expected that day was Wonbin to have pierced nipples, even less, that you would be licking them in a bathroom. However, there you are, moaning while humping his knee and playing with one of the piercings while your mouth continues tasting the other.

Wonbin tastes and smells so good, you’re getting dizzy, as if his whole body was made from the sugar you needed to get completely drunk.

It’s all a bunch of frantic moves, you’re humping his leg while his hands push to the sink behind you, biting his lips hard at the sensation of your mouth drinking his chest.

‘’Fuck- that’s so good’’ his voice sounds in pain, and you bite the little mound in your mouth as you do with your cheek, controlling yourself to not hurt him, to what he shudders before his mouth falls open and a choked sound escapes his swollen lips. ‘’That’s enough, stop’’ he pushes you away, gaining a whine from you because you don’t want to stop, you want to continue, to see his gorgeous face break apart.

‘’Why?’’ you complain. His knee digs into you harder, and you move your hips more to the front as a response. He’s trying to control his breath, and you like how he’s looking at you, as if he was as bad for you as you are for him.

‘’I was about to cum’’ he reveals, and you can’t believe he just told you that, because the idea sounds so good you clench around nothing.

‘’Please, please’’ you beg.

Just minutes before you thought you were crazy for wanting to lick his nipples, but now you realize that you’re insane for wanting to see him cum like that. For needing to see it. You’re sure his cock is fucking pretty as well, and you want to see it spurring with cum so bad you don’t even ask before your hand starts to pull his belt open. He lets you, going to the hem of your shirt, and there’s when your whole euphoric state stops, and panic arises.

‘’No, wait, stop’’ you push his hand away and he lets you go immediately.

‘’What’s wrong? I thought-‘’ he doesn’t finish the sentence, clarity coming back to him too. ‘’Did I read things wrong?’’

He didn’t read anything wrong. You wanted to get even more intimate, but you’re scared. The light is on, and you can see him, which means, he can see you too.

‘’No, it’s just…’’ how could you say, please don’t get scared, or disgusted, I have a huge mark that goes from my shoulder to my chest that will never leave me alone, without sounding odd. You don’t think he’s ever heard or seen anything about surgery scars, from what you can see, he’s perfect in more ways than you can even explain. He’s handsome, yes, but his pierced nipples had added a touch of surprise to him, making him insufferably hot. He wouldn’t understand.

‘’What?’’ he asks, shaking you out of your mind vomiting sentences that make your insides stir with anxiety.

The moment is already awkward, the emotion and lust overpowered by your discomfort.

‘’I shouldn’t’’ you say, your words not making any sense since you can’t force yourself to tell him.

‘’You don’t want to continue?’’ he asks confused. ‘’I mean, you can change your mind, but I don’t get it, did I do something wrong?’’

‘’No, of course not’’ you say. ‘’It’s not you, it’s me.’’

Perfect, now you sound as if you were breaking up with him.

You can’t find the correct words. You’re sure what you’re feeling is perfectible understandable with how your parents had taught you that you shouldn’t just show it around, making you ashamed of it until you reached your vast age. But, you were a grown-up now, and you were about to be a teacher, how could you let your life be controlled by something you couldn’t change, even more, by something as banal as your physique.

You would be in charge of so many little lives in just a couple years, and you would never want one of them to feel ashamed of who they are solely because of their bodies.

You know what your mother did that day was wrong, but you know even more that you should start to change how you feel about it.

Also, you’ve talked the whole night, and if you were about to (probably) fuck him, you should at least make sure he wasn’t an asshole that found you disgusting by a mark.

Looking at him with pleading eyes, he stays silent, letting you take as much time as you need. You grab the hem of your shirt, and you want to sprint out as soon as your head starts playing the exact words you’ve heard every time you’ve gone shopping and tried on something that showed your skin. You shouldn’t.

To be fair, you correct that same voice, you’ve done a lot of things you shouldn’t, like entering a tattoo shop when your whole family and career were conservative as hell, or accepting a burrito from a complete stranger in the middle of the night in a concert, and you’re still alive.

His shoulders become smaller, and one of his hands goes to his shoulder, covering himself while his biceps show more.

‘’If it’s the piercings, I assure you I don’t have one down there, I’m not that brave’’ he laughs.

‘’What?’’ now you’re even more confused.

‘’Well, I know many don’t like them, I thought you did, but I could be wrong’’ he blinks like you do when you’re nervous, and you have to shake your head before you talk again.

‘’Wonbin, I was moaning while licking them just a second ago, I think that’s enough proof of how much I do like them’’ you say suddenly surprised with the way the confident guy you’ve been talking to the whole party has changed to a shy version of himself. You can’t seem to let him feel the problem is him, so you take all the courage you have, pull up your shirt and toss it to the floor, just like Wonbin did.

You’re wearing the top of a swimsuit, because even if you weren’t going to swim, you didn’t want to stay out of the theme. The thin straps don’t hide anything from you, and you leave the insecurity of your life on full display.

He looks at you and blinks.

‘’So, you want to continue?’’ he asks.

You blink, not believing that he’s not making any question about it. Your first boyfriend asked you desperately what had happened to you, expecting a sad story with tears, and you didn’t feel like receiving that pity look again, so you never fucked him, or anyone, in daylight ever again.

You also broke up with him after fucking two times.

‘’I mean, I want to, but don’t you have any question?’’ you ask unconvinced. Was he ignoring the elephant in the room or were you to pretentious to think everything was about your mark and everyone would focus on it your whole life?

‘’About what?’’

You start to feel stupid (which was probably right).

‘’Is my scar… okay to you?’’ you ask then.

‘’Why would it not be? I’ve seen it before’’ he says.

You lift your hand to stop him. You have to stop everything from moving forward in that exact same second.

‘’What do you mean you’ve seen it before?’’ you can’t believe it. You’ve hidden it so well some of your friends have never seen it in years of friendship. You’ve hidden it so well that you have family that has never heard of your fall when you were a dumb child who obliged their parents to take off the training wheels before they learned how to fully drive a bicycle.

‘’I’m a tattoo artist at The Ink. The admin sent me a picture of it to check if I could do the nude tattoo. I told you that I saw you there. I wanted to talk to you to convince you to a coloured one, but you had left when my other appointment ended.’’

He says it with such calm you can’t help but feel calm too, even if incredibly dumb at the same time. He didn’t look like usual tattoo artists, he had his arms empty, like blank canvases waiting to be painted, and you had to be honest, you imagined them all to have no empty space in their bodies.

Where was the tweety you imagined them all to have?

You nod, understanding. You’re such an asshole, you’ve done to him everything you didn’t want people to do to you. You’ve judged his appearance, his career, everything out of the stupid traditionality of your ideas.

 ‘’I see’’ you say, and he smiles.

‘’Did you think I would push you away the second I saw it? As if it was a scarlet letter?’’ he says with a breathy laugh, as if he found funny how dumb you were for thinking it was a problem.

‘’First, I didn’t know you read. Second, well yes, don’t laugh at me, I’m all vulnerable and almost tits on air’’ you say, looking at his chest to distract yourself from the shame. At least, you think, it’s not because of your body anymore.

He laughs louder, getting closer to your body and leaving his head on the space of your neck and putting his hands over yours, which were gripping the surface of the sink. It feels like a hug, but you doubt it could be described as that when he wasn’t wrapping you with his arms. He was just there, close, chest to chest, pressing his hard piercings against your flimsy bikini top.

‘’I have something to admit though’’ he says after a second.

Of course, there was something, everything was too good to be true. You sighed, nodding and giving him permission to say it.

It’s weird. Looks a bit ugly. It’s hard to digest.

‘’I think it’s really pretty, especially the color, it reminds me of cherry blossoms.’’

You swear, Wonbin can’t stop surprising you.

‘’Shut up’’ you smile shyly. He moves apart and when he sees you becoming all timid again, he cups your chin and makes you lift your eyes to him.

‘’I have a scar too, although not as pretty as yours’’ he says, moving the locks of hair covering his left eyebrow and showing you the nude line there.

You press your finger there. He’s a bad liar, not because he sounds unconvincing, but because what he said is blatantly not true. His scar is prettier, so much that it looks as if it had been done in purpose to make him look more handsome.

‘’Dumbass’’ you smile, pressing the pad of your thumb over his almost perfect eyebrow. If you’re honest, it looks perfect to you.

He uses your distraction and gives you a quick peck on the lips. You can’t react to it when he’s already away.

‘’What was that?’’ you laugh loudly, finding him adorable.

‘’A kiss, I hope’’ he answers, smiling so wide you see his bunny teeth.

Fuck, I like him, you think.

You kiss him again, this time for longer, so it’s a real kiss.

His hands go play with the straps of your top and you move your hands to your back to undo the knot holding it in place.

When you let it fall, he admires you like you did to him before. His hands, bigger than yours, go to your chest, playing with your nipples, to then go higher and follow the trail of your scar.

‘’I would die to draw flowers over them’’ he comments, index drawing the line. ‘’It would be a good branch’’ he notices. ‘’The flowers would be blossoming, at their best point, full of colour’’ he sighs, eyes dropping as if he was getting hot with the mere idea of tattooing your skin. His middle finger touches the little lines that move outward, like they’re born from the thick, uneven line. ‘’It would be a perfect tree’’ he finishes.

You’re getting wet with the image he plants in your imagination. It blooms in your sex, which is getting more wet with every second that passes. In your ears, he’s singing the hottest song you’ve heard in your life, watering the seed he had buried in your mind.

‘’I want to be a teacher. I’d get fired if they saw it’’ you lament.

‘’Don’t think so, every student would think you’re the coolest person around’’ he whispers. One of his hands goes down your abdomen, cupping you over your denim shorts and pulling a soft whimper from you. ‘’Just like I do right now.’’

 ‘’Welcome to the fan club,’’ you shake your head, opening your legs a little more, unnoticeable, and then punching his chest. ‘’You’re such a simp.’’

He grabs your hand and maintains it over his chest, cupping you harder to feel how wet you’re getting. He’s not touching you directly, but he knows you’re wet under all the clothes, and he smirks proudly. ‘’What can I say baby, you rocked my world.’’

You can’t believe he’s using one of your favourite songs to turn you on. He didn’t need to. You’re so wet you’re sure your bikini bottoms are drenched and it’s probably reaching the hard fabric of your shorts.

‘’Shut up’’ you order, touching his clothed erection and unfastening his belt. The metallic sound of it echoes inside the small room, covering the sound of the vents and your throat gulping the saliva accumulated.

‘’So, you do enjoy being in charge’’ he clicks his tongue, smirking. ‘’Now I just wonder how many hours you can boss me around.’’

‘’You said we have to be quick’’ you remind him, pulling down his zipper and smirking too.

‘’You’re right, sadly we’re not alone’’ he agrees, doing the same action with you. ‘’We’ll take out time the next time.’’

His fingers finally touch you directly, sliding a finger between your lips, gathering the wetness that pools there. You almost roll your eyes, feeling the quick touch over your clit electrifying. Still, you must have the last word. ‘’Bold of you to assume there’ll be a next time’’ you say like you can, hand going inside his trousers too.

He groans when you touch his cock. It jumps inside your grip, making you smile until he talks. ‘’With how wet you are, I’m sure it’ll be soon.’’

You want to say something even more cocky, but you can’t answer when his fingers press your clit again. You’re sure you’re making a mess inside your shorts and that you’ll be fucking uncomfortable downstairs, but if you’re going to go around with your clothes all dirty, he should do it too.

Playing with the head of his cock, you have to contain yourself from pulling down his underwear to catch the sight of it naked. The skin feels soft in your hand, and he’s so hard that, when you press it, you feel what he’s made. You’re sure he has a pink tip, just like his nipples, and that seems to drive you a bit more insane. The picture you create in your head is nearly orgasmic. His hard coke, with its thickness and bloody colour, angrily pointed at you for being the cause of its pain.

This is really something you shouldn’t be doing. You shouldn’t be giving a boy you just talked to that day a handjob. It’s so nasty and improper, much more than your scar or any tattoo you could get done.

When you use those adjectives, you notice, that you’re mostly referring to yourself. Could you see Wonbin as nasty and improper? He has pierced nipples, but you thought they were incredibly hot, not to be described as those words, or to be categorized with you.

‘’Your pussy is dripping so much. I want to lick it until I drown in it’’ he sighs, fingers smearing your juices and making a wet sound. ‘’You’d come in my mouth so good, I’m sure I’d be able to taste you the whole night.’’

Oh no, he is nasty and improper, just like you.

Your hand is a bit dry. The only thing helping you touch him good is the little pre-cum you’re using as lube to slide your hand. You spit in your hand while maintaining eye contact, and his grin gets wider, as if he’s glad he has found someone as sick and perverted as him.

You’re not, you try to convince yourself, but you know there’s no use. You were licking his nipples as if your life depended on it moments ago, and you’re sure you’d do it all over again.

Remembering they’re there, at your whole disposition, your free hand moves to touch one. You play with the beams, flicking it up and down, to then pull them. He groans harder when you do it, and you feel his cock get somehow thicker, but instead of loosening your grip, you tighten it and jerk him faster, touching the tip and the base so fast he hisses.

His hips move when you suddenly stop your hand, and you smile, liking how desperate he looks. He notices it, so to erase that smudgy grin, he plugs two fingers inside you, obliging you to part your lips with the sensation of him filing you and the sound of your pussy squelching. His fingers are long enough to shock you, and the pain of pleasure building is starting to hit you as much as him.

‘’Let it free, please’’ he asks nicely. He’s so polite and looks in so much pain you want to do it, but you’re sure that, if you asked the same, he wouldn’t comply your begs.

A dark spot is appearing in his black underwear. You can see it with the orange light on. He’s also sweating so bad with the temperature of the room that you see a drip fall from his damp hair to his neck and die on the bone of his clavicle.

You want to lick that place too.

‘’Don’t want to’’ you say, doing the fast motion again, making him grunt.

His fingers move faster too, pushing a bit down your shorts so he can finger you better. It sounds almost like a dessert, and you moan when he curls his fingers. Fucking tattoo artist with talented hands.

‘’Don’t be mean or I’ll be even worse’’ he warns you.

You twist his nipple harder, and he whimpers.

His hands are ferociously fucking you, two fingers deep inside you and his palm brushing your clit, making you wish you had the liberty of cumming without consequences.

You do it too, you keep his pace, moving your hand up and down, not thinking much about it, just following him. You’re the one touching him, you’re the one being mean while jerking him off inside his trousers, yet it feels as if he was the one commanding you to do so.

He starts thrusting the hold you have on him, simulating the force and speed he’s using to fuck you with his fingers.

‘’You’re so bad, the next time I’ll make you beg for me to use my tongue on you’’ he painfully says.

You’re getting closer, you feel it coming. Your pussy is already dripping what you feel as your close orgasm, and so is he with the twitching of his cock, you just know it. You frown, mouth open, and you don’t analyze your question when you do it.

‘’Why would I beg?’’ you innocently ask.

He doesn’t have to say anything. He opens his mouth, flashing you the silver ball in his rosy tongue, and you lose yourself, cumming with a silent moan and shaking legs. He does the same. Feeling your orgasm splashing his hand, he shoots his cum, marking with the marbles more than one spot in his underwear.

You finally pull down his underwear when you feel he has finished cumming, and you see, even if not as hard anymore, the prettiest cock you could’ve imagined. To fuck with him, you spread his cum along his softening shaft, and he does the same with you, sliding his fingers a couple more times before he takes his hand out. Watching it glossy and drops sliding down to his wrist, he looks at you and licks them before they get to his forearm.

You’re both a couple of nasty, improper, sick and pervert people.

Not much later, when you’re both getting decent again, he talks. ‘’Come to the studio, I’ll give you the tattoo’’ he says with a drunk voice. You’ve cleaned as much as you could with toilet paper, and you meet his eyes in the mirror. He’s behind you, knotting your bikini top for you, and looking extremely placid for doing it, as if he was still in the haze of the moment. ‘’Of course, after that, we should go on a date too’’ he says more firmly than his previous offer.

He’s perfect and imperfect in so many senses: he has rosy delicate lips, yet he has uttered the nastiest words you’ve ever heard, he has shaped eyebrows, yet a scar interrupts the harmony of them, and he has the beauty to attract anyone with all his odds, yet he chooses you.

No, he is perfect for you, just the way he is.

You’re still in the blissful state of your post-orgasm, kind of there and at the same time far away, so you don’t even think twice before you nod at his proposal.

‘’We should.’’

When you both eat the remaining cold pizza, he rests one of his hands on your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side, nodding when you tell him that cherry blossoms do sound good.

[whimsicalpolitical]

Could I easily fill his shoes? // Matty Healy x Reader

a/n: I’d love some requests!

content warnings: smut, fluff, dirty talk, praise, cheating, just let it happen ;) 18+ MDNI

summary: since the night Matty and you slept together your boyfriend can’t fulfill the job anymore. You need Matty to help you.

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“Hmm?” he purrs, his voice is low and throaty, perfect for this time of night. You catch your lip between your teeth.

“Shit, did I wake you?” The digital clock on your nightstand displays the numbers 02:28.

There is a low chuckle on the other end, laced with a hint of amusement. "You could say that. But I'm wide awake now. What do you want, love?"

Your cheeks flush at the sultry tone in his voice, your mind racing with possibilities. "Uh-“ You think that everything you’re going to say is going to sound ridiculous. “Shit,” you mumble, not knowing how to phrase it.

“Cat got your tongue?” His chuckle rumbles through the line, a sound that sends a wave of heat coursing through your veins.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, your cheeks flushed red from only his voice. God. Matty’s voice does more to you than anything your boyfriend does. “Can you come over?” You ask.

“Is he gone?” You hear shuffling, a blanket being lifted and a fast movement of fabric on skin.

“He left 15 minutes ago, told him I have a migraine,” it’s wrong to lie and it’s even more wrong when he tried to make you feel good for an hour. How could you possibly tell him that your minds on someone else the entire time.

Matty tuts, “that’s not true, is it?”

“You know it isn’t,” because he knows it’s his fault, “come over please,” you whisper the last word and hope he doesn’t hear your desperate plea.

“Already begging? That little twat left you desperate didn’t he?” His words hit her like a cold shower.

“Matty-,” you didn’t even know what to say but it doesn’t matter cause Matty interrupts you.

“Leave your window open,” you leave it open anyway every night, hoping for a surprise visit. You hear a zipper and the flick of of a lighter. “Oh, and hands off.” He hangs up leaving you burning with need.

-

You’re laying over the blanket, letting the cold air hit your nipples which are hardening through the thin shirt you’re wearing. You’re not wearing any panties, the shirt long enough to cover your thighs. You’re squirming, squeezing your thighs together to try to get rid of the ache, unsuccessful.

Turning the little light off next to you, you close your eyes, distracting yourself from the desire rushing through your body and the wetness already dripping down your inner thighs. Your room has a blue glimmer now, the full moon only shining on your bed.

You hear rustling outside your window and a quiet grunt. Your room is on the second floor and to reach or to sneak out of your window, one has to climb a rocky wall.

“There you are,” Matty takes one last drag of his cigarette before tossing it out the window.

His hair is tousled, dark strands falling across his forehead in a disheveled yet undeniably sexy manner. A hint of stubble lined his jaw, adding to his rugged appeal.

The last time Matty came over to finish what your boyfriend couldn’t end was a week ago and that was too long. You can’t wait any more.

You get up from the bed and pull his leather jacket off him, not waiting another second to kiss him. His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against his body.

But just as quickly as it had begun, he pulls away, leaving you breathless and wanting more. A smirk plays on his lips as he his eyes twinkle with mischief. “So eager,” he bends down to throw his shoes off in slow motion, driving you up a wall.

“Did you touch yourself?” He asks, sitting on the bed, leading you towards him by grabbing your arm. You stand between his legs, his hands going under the shirt to squeeze your ass, groaning when he notices you’re not wearing anything else. “Fucks sake.”

You shake your head at his question, pulling one leg over his lap to sit down on him, the seam at the crotch of his pants rubbing against you. You whimper, still not moving because you don’t want Matty to think you’re not doing what he says.

“C’mon, take what you need from me,” your thighs getting a light squeeze from his hands, encouraging you. “You deserve it.” He groans as you roll your hips instinctively. 

“He couldn’t even get you off like this?” It’s a stupid fucking question because your boyfriend is the most vanilla boy you’ve ever met. That’s the problem: he’s a boy.

You shake your head and he grunts when you roll your hips again and whine as the friction presses against your clit.  He’s kneading the meat of your ass, every time you’re on him, he pushes you further up. “But you can, love, get off like this?”

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Not even wearing anything, s’ easier to rub yourself on me,” maybe you should care a little more, but all you can think about is fucking yourself against his bulge, his hands clamped over your hips as he guides your pace.

“That’s right,” he grunts, looking up at you with dark eyes. “Grind on me, make yourself feel good.”

“I know how to make my girl feel good,” my girl. The moan of his name that leaves your mouth is a surprise and he’s totally taking the piss out of praising you like this.

It hits you out of nowhere, your cunt pulsing, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as you gasp and writhe. “Yeah, you’re so good love,” he murmurs. 

Matty strokes your back, trailing wet kisses down your neck. You look down, seeing the wet patch on his crotch. “Made a mess,” he says.

It turns you on so much more, now that you’ve finally let go you don’t want the feeling to end. “Want you Matty.”

“Yeah?” He grabs your hips and lets you fall onto your back. He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing all his tattoos but your eyes drop to his boxers. His cock is already licking with pre-cum, forming a dark spot. He gets rid of the pair as well, bending forward to look for his wallet.

You stop him by grabbing his neck to kiss him. “Don’t, I’m on the pill.” He grunts, and throws himself on top of you, finally lifting the shirt off of you.

“Did you let him fuck you raw?” He asks, swirling his tongue around your nipple while his thumb rubs slow circles on your clit. The sensation is too much at the beginning, your back arching of the bed.

“Never,” it’s the truth.

“That fucking Tosser is missing out.”

“He ever even ask you what y'like? How y'wanted it?" You shake your head and Matty notices your eyes have squeezed shut like you're trying to not fall apart.

“So fucking wet,” he fucks his fingers in and out of you, spreading them inside you to open you wider for him. You're squirming, unconsciously grinding into his touch to force him deeper. His tattoed hand over your stomach to hold you steady against the mattress. 

“Just fuck me please,” you need to feel him again. On you. In you. All the time.

“Want me like this or-“ you nod, your hand reaching between your body’s, lining up his tip with your entrance.

He's grabbing at your ribs and hoisting you on him, sliding into your soaking cunt too fast, burying himself in your walls and hissing a breath in through his teeth. “No one knows how to treat you right, only I do.”

"Matty," you're gasping. You're so fucking tight around him, squeezing him so perfectly.

“He’ll never manage to make you feel as good,” he falls forward over you, pressing his body weight into yours as he begins a blistering pace. He fucks you deep and fast into the mattress, every inch of your body colliding with his. He can feel all of you this way, every piece of skin.

“Jesus-“ he groans next to your ear, “you’re mine.” He grabs your wrists on either side of your head, bites down on the skin of your shoulders, trying to make you feel so good.

“Matty-“ you repeat his name over and over again, and he responds by lazily licking into your mouth, his thrusts increasing in speed and ferocity, jostling you under him as he tries to make you cum again.

You’re squeezing him, arching your back against his body, eyes rolling back and slamming your nails into his back. “Fuck-“ you whine.

“Gonna cum again? Do it, c’mon.” He’s hitting your spot over and over again and he feels you let go around him again.

Your hazy mind can still process his groans and flushed, sweat-slick skin, and the stutter to his hips as he fills you up. “Too good to me, fuck.” He whispers.

He’s pulling out slowly, a whine slipping through your lips at the loss of his warmth.

“Fuck-“ you say, throwing your head back, “thank you.”

“How could I ever deny you?” He asks, pulling his boxers on, then laying next to you, kissing your shoulder lovingly. “You don’t have a migraine do you?”

You giggle and smack his chest, before burying your head in it. “No, stay for a while.”

It’s not what you usually do but he consumes you. The sex is everything, his touch, his lips, his words, those things consume you.

“You deserve better than that wanker,” Matty never says his real name, only insults are slipping out of him and it makes you smile every time.

You shrug against him until his hands cradle your face, “you do.” His lips are on you again, promising you that he’s better for you.

“Are you ever gonna leave him?”

You think about it. You’ve known your boyfriend your whole life, he’s a good boy, he goes to church, your parents know him. He dates to marry. You’re his first love. He’s not yours though.

“I don’t know,” you whisper and you miss the flash in Matty’s eyes. He nods understandingly without understanding why you would stay with him. You call Matty every time after you had sex and didn’t finish because Matty’s the only one who ever could.

“Stay the night.” You cling to him, draping a leg over his thigh, his body burning up.

He does everything to make you happy because he knows he won’t ever.

[inkmemes]

x-men  (  2000  )  sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  the first x-man film.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“won't it kinda be cold?”

“well, that's the point, stupid.”

“and when are you gonna do this?”

“i don't know what happened.”

“i don't know... i just touched him.”

“call an ambulance!”

“just get away from me!”

“don't touch me!”

“thank you, [name]. it was quite educational.”

“the wrong person driving a car can be dangerous.”

“i didn't say they were hiding.”

“what are you doing here?”

“why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers?”

“don't give up on them, [name].”

“what would you have me do, [name]?”

i've heard these arguments before.”

“it was a long time ago.”

“are you sneaking around in here, [name]? whatever are you looking for?”

“i'm looking for hope.”

“don't get in my way.”

where are we?”

“are you gonna let this man walk away with your money?”

“i'll fight him!”

“don't hit him in the balls.”

“you said anything goes.”

“you idiot!”

“you want something new, honey?”

“i'll have a beer.”

“you owe me some money.”

“[name], let's not do this.”

“no man takes a beating like that without a mark to show for it.”

“come on, this isn't worth it.”

“i know what you are.”

“you lost your money. you keep this up, you lose something else.”

“what the hell are you doin'?”

“i'm sorry. i needed a ride.”

“i thought you might help me.”

“get out!”

“where am i supposed to go?”

“i saved your life!”

“you don't have anything to eat, do you?”

“suddenly my life isn't bad.”

“it looks cosy.”

“put your hands on the heater.”

“it's nothing personal.”

“so what kind of a name is [name]?”

“you should wear your seat belt.”

“you all right?”

“weren't you supposed to bring someone back with you?”

“what happened?”

“i have made the first move.”

“where are you going?”

“what's your hurry?”

“good morning, [name].”

“would you like some breakfast?”

“i don't need medical attention.”

“what's a magneto?”

“this is the stupidest thing i've ever heard.”

“you wanna get outta my way?”

“give me a chance.”

“i may be able to help you find some answers.”

“how do you know?”

“you're not the only one with gifts.”

“what is this place?”

“i'll make a deal with you.”

“no, i don't see a difference.”

“it's gonna be close.”

“the world will be watching.”

“where the hell are we?”

“i'm sorry.”

“so... couldn't wait to get my shirt off again, huh?”

“he could very well be older than you, [name].”

“i've never seen anything like this before.”

“it's such a strange phrase.”

“i think what you really are afraid of is me.”

“i think you'll be comfortable here.”

“where's your room?”

“so read my mind.”

“come on. you afraid you might like it?”

“what do you see?”

“you oughta be careful. i might not be there next time.”

“it was an accident.”

“what the hell have you done to me?”

“i had no choice.”

“i think it'll be easier on your own.”

“you don't like him.”

“how could you tell?”

“where is it?”

“we had a deal.”

“she's all right. she's just upset.”

“i'm sorry about last night.”

“you running again?”

“who told you that?”

“she was supposed to meet me for lunch.”

“you look around, i'll check with the ticket agent.”

“i think you should follow your instincts.”

“i can still feel him inside my head.”

“he seems to genuinely wanna help you.”

“what do you say?”

“come on, i'll take care of you.”

“you promise?”

“scream for me.”

“what the hell do you want with me?”

“whoever said i wanted you?”

“you'll have to kill me, [name].”

“care to press your luck, [name]?”

“goodbye, [name].”

“i made a terrible mistake.”

“i couldn't see what he was after ‘til it was too late.”

“[name], you can't do this alone.”

“who the hell do you think you are?”

“i want you to try and relax. i'm not going to hurt you.”

“please don't leave me! i don't want to be alone.”

“wait a minute. he's not coming with us, is he?”

“answer me. please.”

“are you going to kill me?”

“i'll understand if that comes as small consolation.”

“you actually go outside in these things?”

“sounds like a storm's comin'.”

“there's someone here.”

“there's someone here. i just can't see 'em.”

“do you know what happens to a toad when it's struck by lightning?”

“[name], is that you?”

“you're not part of the group.”

“i can't move.”

“i thought you lived at a school.”

“he's become even more powerful than i imagined.”

“are you sure you saw what you saw?”

“why do none of you understand what i'm trying to do?”

“you're so full of shit.”

“if you're really so righteous, it'd be you in that thing.”

“please! somebody please help me!”

“this is mine.”

“you owe me a scream.”

“you drop something?”

“i can't control it like that.”

“i'm taking it.”

“welcome back. i knew you'd find your way.”

“how did we do?”

“oh, that tickles.”

“how are you feeling?”

“that was a brave thing you did.”

“i think she's a little taken with you.”

“well, you can tell her my heart belongs to someone else.”

“are you going to say goodbye to them?”

“i was wrong in this particular issue and i hope, in time, i may be forgiven.”

“i kinda like it.”

“i don't want you to go.”

“what do you do when you wake up to that?”

“and i will always be there.”

[readychilledwine]

Bound by Fate - part 3

Summary - Kaylee's life has been filled with training. But as her mate is left with no choice but to distance himself, it allows another connection to form.

Warning - none really? At least I don't think so? There's fire at the end?

A/n- you know that one song from lion king? Reflections of Mufasa? All I can hear at a certain point in this part is that dramatic build and crescendo that starts around 3:55 mins into the song. Hopefully the writing shows that.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Kaylee was panting, her hands on her knees, and sweat dripping from every inch of skin. Despite the two-piece cropped tank top and leggings Cassian had her training in, she was still so hot. 

He handed her water his own sweat making his muscled forearm glitter in the sunlight. "You're doing great, Kaylee. The perfect little partner for me to spar with right now." She looked at his beaming smile, a brow raised, before sticking out her tongue and making the male laugh. "We're done for today, but Rhys and Amren will be coming to work on magic with you." Kaylee looked at Cassian, her brows raised, waiting for the information she secretly knew was coming. 

Cassian sighed before continuing. "Azriel is still holed up with Nesta and Elain at the House of Wind. He's the only one Elain will respond to. I'm sorry, Kaylee. I understand your frustration." She knew Cassian did just based on the distant look in his eyes. 

It had been two weeks since they discovered Elain would only speak or allow Azriel near her. It drove the new feral part of Kaylee's mind and soul to madness when he'd come to bed, reeking of Elain's soft floral scent. He would comfort Kaylee however he could those first few days, but at the start of the second week, a switch had flipped. Az stopped sleeping with Kaylee. He stopped eating lunch with her at the Riverhouse. He stopped sending his shadows to spend time with her.

Kaylee had never been a jealous person before this. She had never once questioned her self worth or value, but this had her wondering why her mate wouldn't spend time with her, why he actively avoided her, when she stopped being enough for him. 

A hand on her shoulder ripped her from the void she was allowing herself to fall into. "Stop doing that to yourself," a soft voice said. "He misses you too. She just-" Rhysand paused to turn Kaylee to look at him. "Elain only eats when Azriel is there, and therefore Nesta will eat. I know it hurts, little bee. I am sorry." Cassian muttered an inaudible phrase before kissing Kaylee's forehead and moving inside. "Take a bath and a nap, Cass. It's an order." Cassian lifted a single finger over his shoulder as he moved inside. 

Rhysand crossed his arms over the black t-shirt he was wearing. He was dressed casually today, indicating to Kaylee they were heading into the forest. "Once she is stable, Kaylee. He will be comfortable coming home." He offered her his arm. "Amren is already in the clearing we will be using." She took his arm, closing her eyes tightly as he winnowed her away.

They had left Kaylee in the center of the clearing meditating. She was acutely aware of every sound around her. From the rushing water in the creek, to every soft scurry of small rodents around her, Kaylee heard it all. 

Even with her eyes closed, she felt as though she was seeing clearly. She was watching the forest move past her slowly from higher than she had ever stood. Strong legs carried what felt like her body. A stable mind moved her without thinking about it's path. She watched as hooved feet moved into a crystal blue lake, enjoying the feeling of the cool water on warm legs.

Two heart beats became one as Kaylee tapped further into that feeling. She focused solely on that rhythm beating into her own chest until it overtook every sense she had left.

And then, to Rhysand and Amren's shock and horror, Kaylee disappeared.

Rhysand ran the clearing, searching in the air for any signs of her, before landing and looked at Amren. "Did she just shatter the shield we had in place?"

Amren smirked, her voice light and airy. "She did. I told you she would. You didn't listen. Idiot."

Rhys immediately called for Cassian and Azriel, cursing himself loudly as Amren smirked and began to walk along the forest line, watching for any indication of the young sister.

While Rhys was too lost in panic causing him to only look for obvious signs, Amren had predicted this day's ago when Kaylee's power first tried to tap into her own being, and then Rhysand's beast form, only to have both of them turn her away. And this was confirmation to one clear thing to Amren, their beasts only turned them away because sweet Kaylee was not strong enough, yet.

Her silver eyes locked on several butterflies and bees, dancing together, twirling together, and flying into the same direction deep into the trees.

Azriel appeared first, his face exhausted from lack of sleep. "What happened?" 

Cassian landed at the same with a loud thud, a brow raised at Rhysand. "It happened, didn't it?"

The High Lord nodded slowly before turning to Azriel to explain. "Amren and I have been working with Kaylee to distract her. She started almost tapping into the essence of an animal in the forest after she unknowingly attempted to tap into my beast form." 

Rhysand held his hand to Azriel as the shadowsinger immediately began to try to speak. The sun had begun to set, and finding Kaylee was going to be impossible in the dark.  "It was almost as if her powers made it so she and this animal could become one being, one mind, one body, one soul."

Rhysand paused. "Yesterday things came to a head. She almost tapped into it fully, but she could not sync something. She became frustrated and we could not figure out why, and she could not express why. Armen suggested quiet meditation today instead of us guiding her, and we learned today what it was. She needed to sync their hearts. As soon as she did, she disappeared. I could not tell what she was linking with before it happened, though."

Azriel felt anger setting in slowly and his shadows immediately left him to search for his mate. "So my mate with powers we do not understand is somewhere in the forest with Gods knows what? Why did no one tell me this was starting? I should have been here! I should have been with her! If you had not ordered me to take care of Elain, I could have been here."

Rhysand wanted to answer but he was interrupted as Amren whistled and pointed up and then to the ground. "The creatures are all heading the same direction." The ancient being began to slowly follow their path. "Are you idiots coming or are you just going to stand there with each other's dicks in your hands?"

They trekked for what Azriel's heart felt like was hours. Every snap of a twig, rustle of leaves, and song of a bird had him on edge. 

His Kaylee, his sweet defenseless Kaylee, was somewhere in this forest, a forest he, Cassian, and Rhysand rarely even entered because of the dangers that lay in it. Not even the trees themselves in this forest could be trusted. They almost moved with minds of their own at times, trapping fae within the hallowed ground that these woods have become. It was filled with wildlife that had a taste for blood, lower fae that enjoyed harming others, and countless predators. This was not a safe place for his mate who had hardly begun to use her magic and hardly knew how to fight. Azriel had already made up his mind. If anything happened to Kaylee while she was alone out here, he'd kill Rhysand, and based off the look his brother had just shot him, the High Lord knew that.

Amren was far ahead of them. Watching closely as each bird flew further and further into the heavy bush. She had no choice but to believe they would lead her to the High Lady's youngest sister. After another few miles, she finally paused, stopping them on the edge of another clearing that surrounded a quiet lake. 

They were all surrounded by countless animals who seemed to be watching with anxiety and anticipation. Rhysand moved to step closer for the ancient being to turn and growl slightly. "Not a single step closer, boy," her voice was hushed and tight.

There centered in the lake, her long blonde hair completely loose from the tie she previously had it in and blowing gently in the breeze was Kaylee. 

She was waist deep into the blue waters, the sunshine was kissing every inch of her skin in golden light. It was as if she was radiating, as if she was almost glittering in her power. It was intoxicating for all of them. Seeing her like this had a small smirk forming on Cassian's face, it had Rhysand's breath hitched in his throat as worry and pride set in, it had Amren feeling her own soul almost buzzing, and something primal and deep in Azriel began to stir, something he hadn't even realized was there until now.

The sight was beautiful, but it was what stood before Kaylee that had Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys on edge. A great  creature stood in front of her. It's head lifted in pride and dignity as it looked down at her form. 

It towered before her on long sturdy legs lean with muscle, its dark red coat shone with health. It was at least triple her size and could easily harm her if it had wanted to. she barely reached its cream underbelly. The beast released a loud call, making the other animals all seem to flutter with joy. Itss antlers were twisted and numerous. Had they been in Autumn, this would have been a prized buck hunted for sport and hung above a mantle. Here, in its domain, though, it was clear this beast was the King of this forest, and on his head did not sit horns, but a crown.

It commanded respect, and clearly was testing Kaylee to see if she would offer it. Kaylee's right hand slowly raised, and she held it in the air, waiting for the red stag to welcome her touch, allowing it to make a choice. She would not force the being to her, but instead let it decide.

Not a single word came from the fae or animals as the King studied her, evaluating if Kaylee was indeed worthy for him in all of her glowing power. Azriel almost laughed as Amren's hand gripped Rhysand's wrist almost anxiously until Cassian's hand found his, gripping it tightly as well in support and worry.

In minutes that felt like hours, the great antlered animal began to move its head lower to Kaylee, and his decision was made as he put his long nose to Kaylee's palm. 

Unknowingly to the four of them, the beast sent Kaylee a single message in the bond that was beginning to form between them. You are enough, little one.

Light came between the two as her skin made contact with his fur. It was white and almost blinding screaming of innocence, of untapped potential. It was warm, welcoming, but fierce in its own right. 

"Beast tamer," Amren finally said slowly. "Kaylee is the Cauldron and Mother's beast tamer."

The two beings began to nuzzle each other closer, and Kaylee's forehead came to rest on the King's. 

Azriel would have given the world to frame this moment. His mate shining as her powers were finally acknowledged and known. The happiness radiating from her soul. The tranquility between her and this monstrous animal was almost deafening.

His Kaylee, his honeybee, blessed with the powers long lost to the Cauldron. 

And in turn, his Kaylee, his mate, cursed by the Mother with powers so ancient they had not been seen  since the Gods of old roamed the lands.

Kaylee felt warm wet tears streaming down her face as the stag released another loud call, causing the other animals around them to begin to cry and call in celebration. 

It is time to step into your power and responsibility. A deep voice rang into her soul. I am glad to be your first companion on this journey, Kaylee. Now go to your mate. He is terrified.

Kaylee turned around, seeing Amren and Rhysand smirking behind her. Cassian was wearing a beaming smile as he smacked a hand to a stunned Azriel's shoulder.  The Little beings of the forest moved, creating a pathway. "Az, I made a new friend."

Azriel moved forward. Stepping into the water and getting close to her. "I can see that, my heart." He moved closer again slowly. "Am I allowed to come get you?"

The king, in response, pushed gently on Kaylee's back, throwing her into Azriel's arms. I will be in the clearing you normally train in tomorrow. He moved with another call, causing the animals to return to their normal lives. 

Azriel held Kaylee tightly as they flew back home. Amren had opted to fly with Rhysand ahead of them, looking back at the two of them and Cassian. 

Once they landed at the Riverhouse, Azriel did not give Rhysand and Amren a chance to ambush his mate and carried her up the stairs to her room. 

He slept in her bed that night, his arms locked tight around her, wings cocooning them in. He fell into a deep sleep, accompanied by dreams of them living in a cabin near that clearing with three small children and countless animals.

Meanwhile, Kaylee's dream was filled with darkness, the only light source coming from the lit torch she was holding. Her footsteps were the only thing she could hear aside from deep, heavy breaths and her own humming.

A huge creature with scaled skin was suddenly looking at Kaylee with one of its black eyes. It roared loudly, teeth bared to her before turning its large head and neck up. Fire erupted along the ceiling, allowing Kaylee to finally see its gargantuan body, rows of jagged sharp teeth, and massive wings. Kaylee woke up screaming in terror for Azriel. Her heart raced as she sat in silence, hand clutched to her chest, breath coming out in uneven shakes.

Azriel was immediately up, comforting his mate as Rhys ran into the room, his eyes wide in disbelief and locked on Kaylee. The high lord and shadowsinger held eye contact. "Kaylee," Rhysand began slowly. "Did you feel a call before you ended up in that cave? Did it feel similar to the buck?" She nodded, trying to calm her racing heart. "Kaylee, look at me. I need you to make sure you do not sync with what you just saw until we have a better understanding of your powers and more control. Bond with it in your dreams, speak with it, but you do NOT sync with it. Am I understood?"

The young sister just nodded. Azriel looked between his brother and his mate before gently touching Kaylee's cheek and moving her head to face him. "Baby, what did you see?"

Kaylee's eyes met Azriel's, they were filled with fear and tears causing his heart to clench. "A dragon." Kaylee took another still deep breath. "I saw a dragon."

Bound by Fate taglist:

@impossibelle @luvmoo @wallacewillow0773638 @nightless @cat-or-kitten @knmendiola

@holb32 @mis-lil-red

[glitteringcrab]

Evil Morty and the other Mortys (part 2)

A continuation of this blog.

Theory 7: Internalized victim blaming

Evil Morty is not the only Morty acting extremely harsh to other Mortys. We've already seen random Mortys in the Citadel being jerks to other Mortys.

1) Mortys in Morty Town seem to be particularly aggressive towards Cop Morty. It's unclear if it's because he's a cop (and therefore they're equally aggressive to Cop Rick), or if it's because a Morty accompanied by a Rick. Or if they are aggressive to Cop Rick because he dared enter Morty Town. It could be all of the above.

Cop Morty, in turn, returns the favor.

Here we have a Morty who dares to utter the phrase "Mortys are human!" (I mean... is it a matter of debate?! YIKES)

And he gets (a) called a "Rickless animal" (b) electrocuted for his trouble.

Soon after, we see Cop Morty:

(c) calling Mortys another derogative term ("yellowshirts")

(d) electrocuting another Morty for absolutely no reason:

Note that the derogative insults obviously apply to Cop Morty as well. He, too, is a Rickless Morty, as he keeps making clear that Cop Rick is simply his partner, not his Rick. And he might wear a uniform right now, but at some point in the past he definitely wore a yellow shirt.

2) AT THE SAME TIME, having a Rick is also an insult:

(and things escalate fast)

3) Initially, Cop Morty was capable of overplaying his "Mortyness" to other Mortys...

...who also did the exact same thing to him, before making fun of him:

Mortys are also overplaying their Mortyness to Ricks...

...which apparently is a thing that happens often, judging from Cop Morty's immediate explanation:

Cop Morty tries the exact same technique against his partner... (and it's clear at this point that Cop Morty actually liked Cop Rick... but doing as Cop Rick was asking him to do would have serious consequences for him, so Cop Morty put his own well-being first)

However, Cop Rick is wise to this trick by now, and so he is ready. He shoots first.

4) Mortys are quick to throw other innocent Mortys under the bus, so that they can escape:

Here is a description of the Mortys responsible for the perpetration of the store robbery:

No noteworthy features. Just four normal Mortys.

And here is a picture of the Morty Town Locos:

They have facial tatoos... THEY DIDN'T ROB THAT STORE.

5) Cop Morty is ready to go to extreme measures to erase every trace of the Morty Town Locos:

Do any of the above sound familiar?

Derogative terms to other Mortys...

...including self...! (pretty justifiably though, in this case)

2. Getting angry at the suggestion that he is accompanying a Rick:

3. Overplaying his Mortyness

4. Throwing innocent Mortys under the bus:

5. Going to extreme measures for your own well-being...

They're all textbook variations of the things Evil Morty has been doing.

Which makes sense. After all, if he is one of the many excess clones in the Citadel, then his experiences must be similar to the experiences of the other unwanted Mortys, and they should have similar reactions. The only difference between them is that his actions have been careful, calculated and ultimately successful (and, uh, excessive), whilst theirs have been uncoordinated and heated.

If we take into account all of the above, it seems to me that there might be a lot of internalized victim-blaming among the excess Mortys of the Citadel.

If they partner with a Rick, they're sell-out yellowshirt Mortys who throw away their self-respect in favor of Ricks' interests, who choose to turn a blind eye to all the atrocities Ricks have been committing, who worship an undeserving being all for the sake of a mocking semblance of family, encouraging other Mortys to engage in the same self-destructive act. They want to be a human shield. (They might as well be a human shield, then...)

If they don't partner with a Rick they have very few tools in their disposal to survive. They have to become as ruthless and unforgiving as their surroundings. They have to become their own Rick, so that they can catch up to their Rick-full environment. And the Mortys who choose to not do that? It's their fault for being weak and emotional and not doing what needs to be done. I mean, think of it. Evil Morty overpowered his Rick simply by making him drunk. Literally every Morty could do that, if they wanted. They just choose not to. Morty Prime can disassemble neutrino bombs. My bet is he could assemble one too, if he wanted. He could easily kill a black-out drunk Rick C-137, if he decided to. Or he could try to find a way to keep Rick in stasis, so that he doesn't return via Operation Phoenix. But he doesn't. He chooses to let the abuse keep happening to him, so he's deserving of his fate.

(I mean, not really, of course, but I can totally see Ricks mocking their Mortys for not having the guts to stand up for themselves and claiming that Mortys want the abusive relationship to continue... otherwise, why even enlist in a Morty Agency, if not because you want more of the same?)

(At the same time, Ricks manipulate Mortys into believing they're selfish for trying to set boundaries... Into believing they're evil for not putting Ricks' wellbeing first.) (might as well actually be evil then, huh)

...I'm glad the Citadel's gone.

[technicallyeldritch]

hey hey do you want to look more masc? do you want to pass better as a guy? if not ignore this! keep doing your thing and have fun!

i’m doing a little guide because i couldn’t find a lot of transition advice on here, so i’m doing a guide

first off, body language! manspread. sit like a cool teacher with their ass performatively on their desk. cross your legs but with your ankle on your knee. people will tell you that guy’s don’t slouch as much. this is false you can have the shittiest posture ever do whatever you want.

next, your voice! you can do voice training pre-t to sound more masc/androgynous! it’s awesome! now you may be thinking, “arden isn’t that expensive as shit?” to which i will respond, “why are you paying for shit?” also, you can go on youtube and find tutorials for free. this next paragraph will be based off of one of these.

open up the back of your mouth a little when you say vowel sounds, almost like you’ve got something in your throat (not a damn word). you can use voice memos to record your voice so that you can find something that you like and sounds natural. the phrase “the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog ‘look out!’ i shout, ‘for he’s foiled you again, creating chaos at the zoo’” is a phrase that contains all sounds in the english language, so it’s good for testing.

do you want to bind but can’t for whatever reason? well, transtape is a thing! there are tutorials for that elsewhere. i don’t use transtape. i don’t know how (side note: duct tape is not strong enough to do this. do not use duct tape to bind. it is not safe). there are numerous resources that can provide you with free binders as well! if anyone has a list, please add them. you can also find them pretty easily through google. if you can’t get them delivered to your house, many will also deliver to a friend’s house, in the instance that they have safer circumstances.

beyond that, wearing dark clothes can do a lot to help with that, especially if you go a size up. i wear a lot of black and navy blue medium men’s shirts, even though i’m a small.

do you want dark facial hair, but are pre-t? you can give yourself a darker mustache with mascara. i personally put it on my upper lip and the indent above my chin. you might have to rub it in a bit to get it to look natural.

i hope this is helpful to someone, i’m just listing things i found out along my transition journey