#prev you have never been so correct

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 7

content warning: mentions of blood, some violence, FINALLY 18+ so MDNI, dry humping 😁, like a smidge of fluff, some Spanish (as always, correct me if I'm wrong)

word count: 2.3k (we're back with some sense)

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Gabriel jumped as the grand doors slammed closed.

The room was quiet minus Kron groaning on the floor.

“I’m going to kill him!” he shouts, hand trying to cover his bloodied nose.

“If you try, you’ll be disowned,” Tyler frowned down at him. Gabriel had never seen him without a smile on his face. It was scary yet familiar. It was times like this that Gabriel was reminded that he and Miguel were different.

“Dad, are you fucking serious? He just assaulted me!” Kron cried in disbelief as Nancy tried her best to clean his face.

“It was nothing you didn’t deserve. Surely, you’re grateful that I pulled him away.”

“Tyler. Our son is hurt! And bleeding out on my expensive carpet,” Nancy bit back, snapping at a butler to bring her a health kit.

“My other son is also hurt,” Tyler replies with his voice even, looking at Nancy and Kron as if they’ve lost it.

Gabriel could see George tense up at Tyler’s acknowledgement of Miguel as his.

“All this time and effort spent on putting this whole thing together and for what? What did I gain?” Tyler said lowly as he took his glasses off.

“I’ve spent two decades raising you and the older you’ve gotten, the more you have disappointed me. Twenty years spending dollar after dollar on your schooling and wellbeing. Ten years of watching you grow. Ten more years of watching you drift and become someone I’m not sure I can even call mine. What happened to my boy? What have you done with him?”

Gabriel was outwardly wary of what would happen next. Internally though? He was bullet-pointing every dig.

His name wasn’t Gossip Gabriel for nothing.

He watched as Kron shook on the floor. A simple hangnail could probably make him breakdown.

“Almost two decades I’ve watched from the sidelines as my son grew up without me. I watched as another man took my place. I watched as my careless actions were formed into a son that I could not connect to, talk to, or even hold. So please, forgive me if the few times, no, the one time I have the opportunity to build that connection, I am furious that it is ruined by my eldest son and his entitlement.”

“Entitlement!? What entitlement? Every time I say something it’s wrong, but Miguel is all of a sudden this perfect son that you wish you had. I wasn’t the one that ran that girl away.”

“Watch it, boy,” Conchata hisses.

“No, you watch it!” Nancy snapped back.

“Silence!” Tyler’s voice boomed throughout the house. “What all of you fail to realize is that the special guests have been iced out of my home! Kron, I may not have been there for you at every moment, but I have never taught you to disrespect women like you’ve done tonight. You owe several apologies.”

“You cheated on mom to have a bastard baby.”

Gabriel only blinks as Tyler moves to hit Kron in the mouth. Just as fast as Miguel.

“And what your mother fails to tell you is that she cheated first. I am not perfect, but neither was she.”

“Escandaloso,” Gabriel leans over to whisper to Dana.

“It would be best for us to talk after you’ve gone to the hospital. Make haste, lest you make me angry, son,” Tyler says with venom-coated words.

Nancy, with help from one of the butlers, scrambled to get Kron up and out of the door.

Tyler took a deep breath and put his glasses back on. He turned to Conchata as started to unbutton his cufflinks.

“Conchata,” he said. “Level with me, what did you really not like about Miguel’s girlfriend tonight? I know you too well and her weight is not the problem. She’s beautiful, intelligent, talented, and we can both see that Miguel loves her.”

It was Conchata’s turn to look shocked. She looked around to everyone staring at her, waiting for a proper answer.

She stuttered trying to get her sentences out, “Why am I being held to the fire right now?”

“Ma, I’m not sure if you remember, but you quite literally criticized her body and expression,” Gabriel said. He was never afraid to step up to her when it came to Miguel, he just had to gauge how far he could go.

“I didn’t intend to do that,” Conchata starts.

“Honey, you stopped her from eating her food,” George chides. “It doesn’t get any worse than that.”

Conchata was silent as she sat back down, staring at the centerpiece, “I just-”

“No puedo creer que fueras tan grosera con ella, Conchata. Miguelito is right. You should be ashamed,” Gabriel’s abuela said. (I can’t believe you were so rude to her, Conchata.)

She got up and came to Conchata’s side, “You have fussed at him all his life. Nothing he did was ever good enough for you. You can not choose now to try and control him.”

“Tyler, can you have someone take me back home? Oh! And pack me one of those yummy cherries too,” she said as she gave him a hug and a pat on the cheek. She then proceeded to give everyone a goodbye but her daughter.

“I truly apologize for this hectic night,” Tyler announced to the room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go see how I can make this up to Miguel. You all can use my home however you need.”

Gabriel cleared his throat now that he was left in a room with his parents and Dana, “Well. Did you guys like the meal?”

“I thought the filet mignon was fabulous,” Dana replied.

They leaned together and giggled.

Gabriel had a lot to spill to Miguel.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You wake up unbelievably warm, the bed sheets piled on top of you. You lift your head from the thick pillow, and waited as the AC hit your face.

Sun was coming in through the cracks of the drapes. It was all quiet except for the light snore coming from Miguel’s side of the bed.

You turn to him and he’s out from under the covers, bare muscly back to the world. You swallow around nothing as you watch the ripples of his muscles move with his breath.

Who knew you were going to wake up to this delicious sight?

You move quietly, shuffling to the bathroom to pee and freshen up. You felt miles better than you did last night. You felt even better as the memories come back to you. Your boyfriend really took a stand for you.

When you walk out the bathroom, you don’t expect Miguel to be sitting up on the edge of the bed, bed head and sleepy eyes.

“Are you up? I didn’t mean to wake you,” you say, voice light and soft.

“I moved over and you weren’t there,” Miguel yawned. “Couldn’t go back to sleep ‘till I found out where you went.”

You shuffle to his side of the bad, “Just went to the bathroom.”

He opened his legs and pulled you in. He laid his head on your chest, kissing the skin through the fabric as placed his hands on your ass.

“G’morning,” he said, voice scratchy.

“Morning to you too,” you said while scratching his head.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, peering up at you.

You give him a small smile, “I’m feeling better.”

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, bringing your hands to the nape of his neck. You twirl your finger is his hair absentmindedly.

He puckers his lips, waiting expectantly. You giggle and lean down pecking his lips.

GymRat!Miguel who hurries and brushes his teeth, wanting to continue this mood. You were rocking one of his shirts and some panties. He still wanted to see if the offer from last night was still up.

GymRat!Miguel who crowds your space on the bed, hovering over you as he kisses your lips. He’s feeling particularly ravenous and all he wants is you. Your grip on his shoulders becomes tighter as he slots his tongue in your mouth.

GymRat!Miguel who is definitely a virgin. Sure, he spent his free time researching how to make you feel good. He even shyly asked Peter for advice. It still doesn’t negate the fact that he has put none of these things to use.

He pauses as things start to get even more heated, sharing this news with you. You’re a little shocked but you promise him it’s fine to take it slow. You have never done penetrative sex with anyone either. Feeling more relaxed, he dives right back in.

GymRat!Miguel who has you grinding above him. Your clothed sex slides against his, two layers of cotton separating you both. You’re whining against mouth as he moves your hips. He’s humming at every noise you make.

As much as he wants to go further, he has a need to fulfill your desire first.

Plus, he was dumb enough not to bring a condom.

He opens his mouth to take a nipple in through your sweater. It’s thick, but he sucks hard enough to get the job done. He watches as you tilt your head back and moan loader, hips stuttering.

Miguel watches you in awe. He’s never seen you like this before. So needy for him. It was a contrast to how you usually let him take, take, take.

He moves quick to lay you on top of him, finally getting his dream of you over him.

“Miguel?” you ask, wary of your weight.

“Nuh uh, baby keep going. Don’t stop,” Miguel says, swerving your hip along his.

You fall down from a sharp buck of Miguel’s hips, moaning from the friction and holding your hands against the headboard.

Miguel was in heaven watching you roll your hips faster and faster.

GymRat!Miguel who flips you over as soon as you come. He is grinding better against as you lay on your back. Your tits ate bouncing under his sweater with every jerk. He wanted to take it off, but you were still a bit self-conscious.

For now, it was fine because you looked so good in his clothes, nipples hard and ready just for him to devour. In the future, he hoped to have you see how beautiful you are in his eyes.

You’re sensitive, thighs tightening around his waist. He softly moves one of them, gaining better access for his bulge to slide against your clothed clit.

“Miguel!” you cry, voice high.

“Give me another one, come on,” he says, mouth moving to your ear. “You’re doing so good. Just need one more.”

He feels you nod your head, arms wrapping around his neck.

You yell his name as you come again, thighs shaking.

GymRat!Miguel who comes through his underwear on top of you. He pulls your sweater up a tad to watch some liquid pool on your stomach.

“Fuck,” he heaves, smearing it with his thumb. You were fluttering against him softly.

You were laid out under him coming down from your high. Your breaths were slowing down and you were looking at him, blissed out.

This was better than his dream.

He rubbed up and down your bare thighs, watching as they twitched when he grazed your inner thighs. He walked his fingers down to your panties, running his knuckles over your mound. The fabric was wet, evidence of what you two just did.

He starts to pull the fabric tight, watching as your folds imprint through the cotton.

What a pretty sight. Your body so open with his cum on your smooth skin.

Mine. All mine.

He’s about to press against your clit again until you say something.

“Huh?” Miguel asks, in a daze.

“I asked if you could go get a wet towel,” you say.

“Shit. I’m so sorry, baby,” he says, frantic movements as he hobbled out of the bed. He was acting like an idiot, gawking at you instead of talking.

GymRat!Miguel who realizes that he put you both in a sticky situation as he wipes your stomach off.

“It’s fine. ‘Was hot,” you whisper, completely flushed.

“Yeah? You liked it?” Miguel asked, giddy.

You nod your head, “You made me feel really good, so yes, I did like it.”

“Is that so?” Miguel mumbles, leaning close to your face. “Might have to do more next time.”

“More? Like what?”

“Like finally getting you to sit on my face,” he says in your ear. He finally got you to put your weight on him, all he needed was that final push.

“Oh my god,” you drone, covering your face dramatically.

“What? Baby, it’ll be so fun! I promise!”

GymRat!Miguel who finally checks his phone while you both wait on room service.

Abuela 💕:

“Miguelito!”

“Call me when you can!”

“dile a mi muñeca que mi casa es su casa!” (tell my doll that my home is her home)

“And I don’t want any new grandbabies so soon so control yourself”

Pa:

“Miguel I hope you can forgive your mother”

“She needs some time”

“I’ll be sure to talk to her”

“It was also lovely to meet your girlfriend”

“I’m proud of you mijo”

Gabri 🤏🏽🤡:

“Bro”

“You missed SO MUCH!”

“BDHDHDHDJEBE”

“I wish I could have streamed it”

“Tyler SWUNG KRON’S BODY TO THE SIDE….”

“Ok no but fr”

“It’s def confirmed that you’re Tyler’s favorite 🤷🏽‍♂️”

“Kron got socked in the mouth by Tyler”

“That’s def where you get your punches from ngl”

“OMG”

“Did you know that Nancy cheated on Tyler first?”

“Crazy. Ik. You don’t have to say anything”

“Anyway”

“Tell my girl I said gn 😁 her breakfast in bed will be waiting on her”

Dana:

“Your dad’s kinda hot”

“Tyler not George”

“But you know who’s hotter?”

“Your gf”

“Give her my number. Plz and ty”

Dad….Tyler:

“Son I sincerely apologize for this terrible evening.”

“Kron will be reprimanded. No need to worry about that. You only taught him a valuable lesson in reality.”

“If I can, may I make it up to you?”

“I added a few more days to the hotel.”

“And my doors are, of course, always open to you.”

“Please reach out to me soon.”

Ma:

“Miguel please come home”

“I need to talk to you”

divider by: @plutism + @benkeibear 🩵

a/n: AHHH! If you're reading this, then this (hopefully) means that I have finished and turned in my Senior Thesis 🥺. As a gift, please tell me you how you feel. You guys have been so kind to me on here, so I hope you enjoy today's chapter. There are more great things coming soon!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02

@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu

@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms

@love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx

@lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @cl3stevu

@ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22

[doobea]

I CAN MAKE YOUR BED ROCK - RIN ITOSHI

synopsis: You're a famous online smut author, married to an international superstar athlete, and everyone around you thinks you have the perfect sex life. What they don't realize is Rin sleeps in the guest room and you're still very much a virgin.

contents: fem!reader, explicit content (fingering, fondling, heavy petting, public indecency, and makeout sessions), suggestive themes, mainly written in rin's pov, characters are all in their mid/late-20s, his teammates are just trying to help (not really), romcom, he has a therapist!!, idk probably secondhand embarrassment, mutual pinning and they are both awk, mdni word count: 3K a/n: tbh i actually have no idea how to write smut scenes so apologies in advance ps due to popular demand... there IS a taglist below haha just comment on the fic if you want to be added to the next batch c:

二 : Baby, wanna spend it all on you -> prev. ->next.

When Rin thought about his life after college, he'd imagine things a certain way. He'd expected to move abroad, a new city, a new life. He'd expected to play alongside his older brother and for a football team of a different caliber, offering different techniques and skill levels that would promote a challenge to him.

What he didn’t expect was staying in Japan, getting married by the age of 24, playing alongside his teammates from the Blue Lock academy, and representing his nation in the upcoming world cup. It wasn't bad by his standards, just not ideal - more so over the team rather than the location and marriage, surprisingly. He's currently stuck with the same teammates that love to tease him endlessly. But a voice in his head tells him that they're probably the only people who could mesh well with his play style; so he tolerates them.

Here's what Rin Itoshi's teammates know about him: he's married to a famous author, he's fluent in English, he's the most Virgo man out there, he always keeps his phone on 'Do Not Disturb', and his favorite movie is The Shining.

And here's what they don't know about him: he's in an arranged marriage, he's madly in love with you so much to the point where he has all your favorite food orders listed in his notes app, he carries around a physical signed copy of one of your novels at all times (you have no clue and he's never going to tell you), and he's a virgin.

Shocker!

Not many people could crack Rin and not many try. The football player had a reputation for being anti-social, rude, and extremely blunt. But Isagi Yoichi is not like many people. Being one of his long-time teammates (friend - Isagi would like to correct him from time to time), he would always find a way to make Rin slip up more details about his 'top-secret' life. It wouldn't always work and often times the conversation will end with Rin kicking a ball to his head - ouch.

But today felt different, Rin had noticed the shorter male peering at him with mischief laced in his eyes when he had walked onto the training grounds early morning. Rin was prepared to kick the ball extra hard this time around.

"What genre does your wife usually write?" Isagi asks nonchalantly as he begins routine stretches on the turf.

"Why does that matter to you?" Rin bites back while doing his own sets of warm-ups next to him.

Isagi is unfazed and continues, "I've been trying to find something new to read nowadays. It's hard to find good books!"

Sarcasm, Rin notices.

"Even if you did read her books, I highly doubt you'd understand the words."

"Pfft, what does she write physics textbooks or something?"

Before Rin could even insult back, he hears a loud bang from the locker room and one of his teammates running out. Karasu jogs to the field and Rin feels all the color wash off his face. In Karasu's hands held the physical copy of your best-selling novel, 'Pleasure Master Prejudice', the book that Rin always carries in his sports bag.

Suddenly, Rin wants to take back all the harsh insults he's said to his team's face. He starts praying, half expecting the football player to run towards him with flowers instead of your dirtiest erotica story known to man, he will repent all of his sins in this moment.

"Yo," Karasu smirks and waves the book around for everyone else to see, "check out what I found on the locker room floor!"

Rin makes a mental note that he is definitely going to schedule an emergency call with his therapist later.

Otoya is first to make a beeline toward the taller player, immediately snatching the book from his hands and flipping through the pages. "Holy shit, this is nasty!"

"Wait let me see–"

Rin blinks in disbelief as he watches his team of fully grown men scramble to the center of the field, all of them attempting to read out loud the pages and giggling like little schoolgirls. At this point, Rin thinks that the higher beings are out to get him.

"Gross! Gross!" Ranze chokes at the print.

"Guys, what the fuck is a vulva?" Igarashi screeches.

"Read this one, Reo." Nagi eagerly points to a paragraph on the bookmarked page and everyone laughs.

Reo suppresses his laughter and clears his throat, "He spreads my dripping cunt wide with his slender digits, eyes keeping in lock with mine as he hovers over my voluptuous ti–"

"Can you guys fucking stop?!"

All turn to face their redden-faced striker, surprised by the volume coming from his usual monotone voice. Rin is also surprised himself. A pregnant silence falls over the team followed by the sounds of the book cover closing.

"Was that yours?" Isagi finally says.

He can't find the energy or space to punt a dozen footballs in everyone's face so today, safe to say, Rin leaves practice early.

"What brings you in today?" Anri adjusts her glasses and steadies her clipboard in her lap before looking into the camera. "It must've been pretty serious for you to call me last minute."

The football player sinks into the living room couch and tilts the laptop screen back to avoid looking at his agitated expression. He usually schedules weekly therapy sessions every Monday to decompress from his work stress and improve his social anxiety, but today is Friday and he needed Anri to hear him out. He's thankful that her schedule turned out to be flexible last minute and equally as glad that you were currently out drafting another story at a nearby cafe.

"I think I need to move out of the country or just disappear for good." He groans into his hands.

"Rin," She says with a controlled tone, "what triggered this event? Tell me how you're feeling right now."

He bites his lips, "My team knows that I read erotica." Rin shyly admits.

Anri hums on the screen, scribbling her thoughts down on the notepad, "And how does that make you feel?" She repeats.

Embarrassed? Ashamed? He didn't know where to start. He can handle the flack from his teammates tomorrow as cringe as it was today but the main reason why he feels the way he does is–

"It reminds me how I'm being physically avoidant in my marriage."

"Ah," Anri beams as if she's found gold, and Rin hears her flipping through her notepad, "are you two still talking? How long has it been since that incident?"

"A week. I'm still not sure what inclined her to go into my room since we usually keep things separate. We both chose to not talk about it and things have more or less gone back to normal."

"But is that what you want?"

"No," He removes his hands and glances at a framed wedding portrait above the fireplace, "but I'm not sure how to initiate anything with my wife. She doesn't know that I read her stories and I'm not sure if she picks up that I'm inexperienced."

"Do you think reading her published works will help you gain confidence in how you approach her?"

Rin hums in deep thought. He only started reading your novels and short stories around eight months back out of curiosity on a slow practice day. When you guys initially got together, he never really asked about your background due to his ignorance of 'she's probably just another YA novelist'. So, when he typed in your alias into the search bar, he was absolutely taken aback by how lewd and explicit everything was. He felt a sense of insecurity knowing that you've probably had most of these acts done to you (how else were you able to write a detailed bondage scenario) and he couldn't live up to that nor see your evident disappointment if you ever find out that you're his first everything.

"Not sure." Rin answers.

Anri flashes the male a pondering look in her eyes before deciding to leave the lingering topic for their Monday session. They briefly exchange their goodbyes, ending the call with her advice of 'trying to approach things in her shoes', Rin isn't exactly sure what Anri meant by that.

A light buzz comes from the coffee table and he sees your contact flash in his notifications. He sometimes feels like you're taunting him with your comedic timings.

my love hey babe if you're free later do you wanna come shopping with me?

It's already been one hell of a day, why not relax in some retail therapy with your wife? Maybe he can try to attempt whatever Anri was suggesting.

When you told him to meet you at the new corner store located next to a ceramics store, Rin was half expecting it to be another bookstore or beauty outlet. Never in a million years would he have predicted that you brought him to a sex shop of all places.

The boutique is painted in blotches of purple and black circles with two towering rose bushes on either side. Grey mannequins are on display by the arched windows facing the street and they are covered from head to toe in a series of lace, leather, and chain underwear sets. And he spots you, already inside the store staring intensely at your phone with your tote bag in hand before locking eyes and sending over a coy smile.

Rin has been in many unpredictable and hard situations, in football of course, but he couldn't see where this outcome might lead. He finds the strength to wave back after gawking for who knows how long, unaware of his sweat-covered palms, and steps inside a world he's alarmingly unaware of.

"Did you wait long?" He manages to remain composed and refuses to look anywhere else but your face.

"Nope," You reach out to interlock your fingers with his, "I just got here a minute ago. How was practice?"

Rin can't help but roll his eyes, "Wasn't the best, let's talk about something else?" And you nod. "Did you need anything from here, hon?"

"Ah, well..." You scratch your flushed cheeks in thought before nudging him towards the floral pattern-laced body suits in the corner. "I want to incorporate something similar in my writings but I want a personal opinion of them first."

Suddenly, Anri's words pop up in his mind again. How could he see himself in your shoes and what should his response be? Was this strictly for your work or is there a hidden meaning behind it, he thinks to himself. Before he could provide you an answer, a male sales associate interrupts.

"That's a wonderful choice, miss!" The blond male's voice booms through the store’s walls as he struts his way over, wearing a pair of obnoxiously shiny brown loafers, tight black leather pants a size too small, and a white collared shirt with the first two buttons popped open, exposing just a bit of chest hair, "Our Forget-Me-Not Floral collection is seasonal right now and it's been a fan favorite since release!"

“Oh!” Your eyes sparkle at the fact, “May I try a few on?”

Rin feels oddly annoyed, and it's a different type of annoyance compared to Isagi and the rest of his team. He subconsciously tightens the grip around your hand but doesn’t say anything.

The male nods vigorously and shuffles through the drawers, quickly selecting the most revealing ones that the collection has to offer. There was hardly any coverage other than thin white straps and embroidered flowers barely covering where the breasts and vagina would be. Why is this boutique charging so much for something that covers so little? But for some reason, you didn’t seem to mind and happily took the associate’s suggestions.

“Plenty of people like to get the nightgown version, but these are my personal favorites.”

“Thank you so much um—”

The male winks, “Chris Prince.”

And Rin thinks to himself, what an obnoxious name for an obnoxious guy.

You swiftly march yourself to the dressing room with the items in hand, assuring Rin that it’ll only be a short while, and he takes a seat on their small ottoman right outside. He feels Chris’ gaze burn at the back of his head but he pays no mind to it - Rin didn't want to cause headlines tomorrow on top of the series of unfortunate events for today. So, to busy himself, he pulls out his phone and texts you instead.

Rin "Everything alright?" my love "Yes! Getting it on is a bit challenging, trying to figure that out rn haha" Rin "I’m sure it’ll look fine regardless how you wear it" my love "Thanks, Rin :) "

Another notification comes through making Rin frown immediately as he recognizes the name of the sender.

shithead "We’re still cool?" Rin "Fuck off, Isagi." shithead "Lol glad to hear that. See you at practice tomorrow then?" Rin "Sleep with one eye open tonight."

“Hey, honey?” Your voice calls out in the distance, “Could you help me with something real quick?”

He isn't sure what's more revealing - the fact that you're practically almost naked with just lines of sheer fabric barely covering anything up or the face he's making right now. You seem to catch on to his discomfort and quickly hug the front part of your body with your shirt, mumbling an apology afterward. He rushes to close the dressing room curtains, hoping the weird sales associate isn't listening in.

"I can't get the neck part to look right..." You turn around slowly, exposing your bare back and bottom. He thinks you should've worn a hospital gown because this might be too much for his little innocent heart to handle.

Rin feels a lump forming in his throat and knots churning in his stomach while trying to take everything in. He couldn't help his wandering eyes and stood there for a bit, simply admiring what was in front of him. "You look amazing." And it comes out breathier than what he wanted it to.

This is the first time he's seen you almost naked and, the fact it's in a lingerie store, makes him feel terrible as a partner. This brings him back to Anri's wise words from today's session and the past eight months of solid 'research' he's conducted.

Your body flinches at the touch of his slender fingers reaching for the two strands dangling around your neck that were failing to support your breasts. You feel your face reaching concerning levels of warmth as Rin moves closer, his chest practically pressing up from behind, whispering that he needed to get this knot just right. Your eyes go wide when you peer into the mirror, catching Rin's sudden sharp expression and you could've sworn his eyes went dark.

"Is this okay?" His hands rest on your shoulders and looks into the reflection with you, appreciating the finalized look. You gently drop the t-shirt to the floor, mouth agape. The sheer, embroidered cups now fit your breasts perfectly and the bottoms are snug against your lower half but still breathable. The lace hugged and accentuated your curves just right without it being too over the top.

Suddenly, you feel painfully small in his presence.

"Y-Yeah, thanks."

Rin hums in contentment before placing shyly his hands on either side of your hips, "Is this also okay?" He drawls, breath hitting against your ears.

You merely nod in response, having a loss for words at the sudden boldness, and melt into your husband's touch. You screw your eyes shut as his hands sweep lower, fingertips brushing the fabric of the bodysuit and barely skimming your exposed thighs. He stops over where your lower region resides and presses gently against it.

"Rin," It comes out as a whisper.

He kisses your temple and smiles against your skin, "Try and be quiet, my love."

Rin's fingers continue to press against your mound with increasing intensity and you struggle to hold back any form of reaction. His other hand travels from your hips to your breast, giving it a small squeeze.

"They're so soft." He continues to grope, playing with your nipple through the lace fabric, and you feel as if your head is filled to the brim with static.

You find yourself grinding against his fingers, trembling and panting out the quietest of moans you can. "Please." It sounds ragged and raw to Rin's ears.

He tilts your head back by the jaw and sloppily pushes his tongue down your throat. Your desperate hands immediately reach for his hair and the other down to feel for his aching length growing against his pants.

"Grind against it." Rin grits through his teeth, fluttering his eyes shut as you did what he's told and he feels like his body is burning alive.

Rin ravages your lips once more and, feeling a surge of confidence, he slides the bottom of the bodysuit to one side, allowing his digits to fully feel the extent of his work. You moan loudly into his mouth, tears of pleasure forming at the corners of your eyes. He takes that as permission to enter into your folds and the texture and scent emitting from it is addicting to his senses.

"You're so wet."

"It's because of you."

His lips find their way to your shoulders and his hand on your chest grip tight against your now trembling figure as he rapidly pumps in and out of your folds. Your hands clamp over your mouth as a burning sensation tightly builds up.

"It's okay," He murmurs, "you don't have to hold back."

And just at the right angle, you watch as fireworks explode right in front of you. Your mind rewires itself slowly and suddenly everything is over-stimulating. Everything is either too bright or not bright enough. You've become hyperaware of the mesh material against your hot, sweaty skin and the sounds of poorly curated indie music that played in the background. You couldn't recognize yourself in the mirror.

Rin groans at your mess and slips out his fingers with a loud pop before setting your fatigued body against his.

"I think your readers will like it."

TAGLIST

@wtfsaekyuny , @jukey , @broeagleblog , @freakingdinonuggies , @damutaaa , @idk-bro-gay , @saharei , @yesurmajesty , @vvi-site , @saeswifeeee , @marilover69 , @izayumi-chan , @whostakara , @talleythesimp , @short-black-diamond

[yuri-is-online]

Hi I love your soulmate au, consider Ace or Deuce as soulmate but not touching each other until much later.

rules for au/prev posts can be found on my masterlist

So I could not quite tell if you meant ace x deuce or aceyuu/deuceyuu but since I am a Yuu focused blog (and you said "or... but not untill later") I am going to focus on x yuu.

I think the first potential time for them to touch Yuu is after beating the phantom at the end of the dwarf's mine. They're cheering, you're cheering, there's a half second where they scoop up Grim and swing him around and half reach for you but... hesitate. It's like everything stops for a moment before he shakes himself out of it. You're just Yuu, some magicless human he literally met today, why's he feeling so... strange about it???

I could see Ace knowing about soulbonds. His best subject is magic analysis/theory, he's far from unaware of theoretical concepts. But he's also Ace. The bratty kid who hates being seen as vulnerable, who thinks romantic things are uncool, whose way more comfortable being someone's friend than he is their boyfriend. He doesn't want a destined mate, he wants someone he can laugh with and likes being around... and he sort of hates how much you fit that description. So! Only solution he can think of is trying to bait you into making physical contact first, that way if anyone makes a big deal about this all consuming need to be close to each other it's you and not him.

Even though he's the one who proposes sharing a bed. It would have been your fault if you said yes! He's unprepared for what it feels like to get his wish, after Vil curses him to spend the night on the floor with Deuce and Grim he expects you to just abandon him to your room... but you creep back with blankets and pillows for your friends and hesitate when you go to give them to him. Slowly, so gently it makes a mockery of the searing undeniable realization that tears through him as you lay yourself next to him and lay your hand on his shoulder and rest.

While he lies there awake cursing Vil (he refuses to blame himself) for denying him the ability to hold onto you like he should.

~~~~

Deuce is different, I don't think he would be aware of soulbonds nor does he seem to believe in soulmates. I don't think he's thought much of romance at all really, so he doesn't fully understand what he's experiencing or why he's so nervous to touch you. He wants to though. Badly. It's all he can think about sometimes, he's never had a friendship this close or intimate. He really treasures you and this closeness, he doesn't want to break it. While Deuce might not know what is driving this desire, he knows that if he touches you he will understand. And that scares him, what if he breaks you with touch? What if nothing good can come from this connection, what if he is unable to let you go? He really wants you to be able to see your home again... but the thought of losing you leaves him strangely listless. Like you would be taking a part of him with you...

I don't think he ever finds the correct word for it. Maybe sometime way in the future Malleus or a professor will make him aware, but somewhere in a dream he finds it; the understanding of just what this bond means. Physically, he is unconscious in a hospital bed after failing to dodge the shards of Ramshackle Dorm's ceiling, but mentally he is wrapped in the warm, heavy sensation of his love for you. When he wakes and you aren't there he almost tears himself in half looking, and when you come back he holds you so tightly you can feel the tension shaking through his body. The only thing that soothes him is your gentle touch on his back, rubbing soothing circles into his soul as he breathes the bond between you in.

[kayentokk]

Easy Peasy Sukuna Squeezey(Part 3);What Could Go Wrong

Pairing;Sukuna x Fem! Reader

Summary;What could go wrong during your weekend with Sukuna? Not much except one thing, or one person.

Contains;fluff, lots of fun, ex, sukuna gushing, childhood memories, some cussing

Wc;2,010

A/N;I am literally so sorry, tbh I forgot I made this a series 😅 and then I checked my comments and I was like oh. So my bad guys I will try to update this regularly and get my schedule back together. Also just comment on any of the posts for this series that you want to be tagged to get on the tag list. 

Tag list 🏷️; @charlie-xo

Prev. Series M.list Next

The week felt like it took forever to be over, exams, loads of homework, part-time job, all that hectic stuff. But this weekend you get to-well you’re not really sure exactly what Sukuna has in store for you but whatever it is you’re excited for it. 

You had texted your roommate the day you were over Sukunas apartment that you’d be staying there at least until the weekend was over. You often stayed at Sukunas for long periods of time when you needed a break or just wanted to hang with your best friend. He never really minded you were pretty good company, in your own words, and he was used to spending long periods of time with you. During school, after school, in the summer, whenever your moms wanted to have a girls night, just whenever. 

Anyways your roommate was obviously cool with it, she had mentioned she wanted to have “company” over anyways so it all worked out. You took Sukuna’s advice and blocked your ex, you were probably going to do that anyways since the relationship was definitely over, so you have no idea if he’s texted or called. Not that you care though, he’s an ass and he should have enough shame, decency, and brains not to call and understand it’s over. 

To be honest you’re at the acceptance stage of grief, it is what it is he wasn’t the one for you, but it still sucks. Sukuna has actually been really helpful, he’s been, for lack of a better word, a great distraction. He won’t tell you what he has planned for tonight though, all he said was to be ready in pajamas. Maybe a movie night? 

You guys used to do those every Friday, but then college got too hectic with it being senior year and all. Sukuna said his classes are pretty easy, although you aren’t too surprised on that one he’s always been exceptionally intelligent, he claims it’s because he just decided to major in business since he’s not exactly sure what he wants to do.

He didn’t want to be a chef, even though he’s exceptionally talented in cooking too, but he’s a waiter at a restaurant for his part time job. When he first got that job you visited to see the restaurant, and him, it was a nice little quiet diner. He was annoyed and disgusted about it on the outside but you could tell he was embarrassed about you visiting, mostly because one time there was a couple that sat in the booth behind you and made comments about, “young love.” And every time you would sit in that same booth just to annoy him because you knew he thought about it each time, it was honestly hilarious. You and him? Being a couple? What a joke.

Sukuna texted he was on his way back, he had a lecture that was in the evening that day and he left a little early to start you guys’ weekend plans. Apparently you hadn’t been paying much attention to any calls or messages because you had about 10 missed calls from your friend and a dozen text messages. You immediately called back.

“Hello? Girl! Why have you not picked up, I’ve been calling you for forever.”

“I’m sorry! I was just laying here, and I had on dnd from when I was in classes earlier. I guess I never turned it off,” you replied in an anxious tone.

Maki just sighed before continuing, “anyways your boyfriend-“

“Ex,” you cut her off before she could even begin.

“Your ex-boyfriend,” she corrected herself with irritation, “has been showing up like every other hour asking about you, and I wasn’t paying much attention before but I’m pretty sure his car was outside yesterday for a while. He’s probably waiting on you, has he texted?”

“I don’t know if he’s texted I blocked him. That’s probably why he’s showing up, he thinks I’m home. Just ignore him, and if he continues to knock call the police or something.”

“Why can’t he just leave you alone? It’s clearly over, there’s nothing there anymore.”

“I know, I’m so sorry by the way.”

“You’re fine, enjoy your weekend babes! I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Mhm my company should be over soon, talk to you later, be safe.”

“Kk you too, bye Maki,” and with a small beep, the call ended. 

He was coming by every hour? How insane. You hoped he wouldn’t give Maki much trouble, but then again she could handle herself. What if he knew you were at Sukuna’s? Well he didn’t know the address….he’s dropped you off before though. Maybe he doesn’t remember it? Oh no what if he shows up?! And then your whole weekend of distraction will be ruined, and all of Sukuna’s hard work will be-

“-n? Y/n! Hey, Earth to y/n again. Seems like I’m having to do that a lot this week huh?” Sukuna jokes. 

“Hm, oh yeah sorry-“ you say lost in your thoughts.

“Uhh you sure? Why’re you all spaced out?”

“It’s nothing-“

“We both know it’s not nothing you might as well tell me, you’re not very good at your poker face I’ll have to teach you sometime,” he says playfully.

“It’s just- he showed up at my apartment. He was looking for me-“

“But you’re not there so what’s the problem?”

“Maki is there, which I’m sure she’s fine he’s not crazy he’s just a whore, but what if he shows up here?” 

“Wow never thought I’d hear you slut shame someone, that’s a new low y/n,” he smiles and then continues, “but you don’t have to worry about him showing up here. That is if he knows what’s good for him.”

Oh yeah one small thing, the time your ex dropped you off him and Sukuna did not get along. It was the briefest moment, it felt like when your dad dropped you back off at your moms’ after spending a weekend with him, but it was tense. You could tell, Sukuna’s sharp maroon gaze stayed on him even after you had stepped inside. So, safe to say he’d have to be pretty ballsy to show up here.  

“Put on some boots or something we’re going out,” Sukuna says gruffly.

“Going out where? I’m in pajamas-“

“I know, good. I told you to be, glad to know you listen.”

You scoffed, “no way I’m going in public like this-,” you gestured with your hands waving in an up and down movement to your unprofessional getup. 

“Relax. You won’t be the only one, I’m about to change too.”

“Oh because two of us looking like we just rolled out of bed is better than one,” you said sarcastically.

“Exactly, I knew you’d get it I had to admit I was getting a little worried there,” he teased.

“Oh shut up dimwit,” you said smiling.

There it was again, stunning.

Sukuna went to quickly throw on some sweats and an old faded t-shirt, probably sporting some random band. He grabbed his keys, and you were out the door. 

You loved night time drives, everything just hit different. The music vibed better, especially when Sukuna let you have the aux, the car ride is just more fun at night. When you arrived at the destination Sukuna parked the car and reached to turn the knob on the volume down.

“Look where we are,” he said turning to stare at you.

You immediately turned to look out the window, and even though it took you a second you realized-

With a big shriek and gasp you turned back to Sukuna, “this is-!”

“The ‘best convenience store ever in our hometown’ I know you said it to me so much it’s engraved in my brain.”

Sparkles were in your eyes, along with some unshed tears. So many great memories were here. Every time you passed a test with an A your mom would bring you here to get your favorite snack, and since Sukuna always did well on tests you’d take him about once a month to continue the tradition. But then you guys’ campus was at least a 35 minute commute from here, and when it was busy during the day maybe 45, so you stopped coming. There just wasn’t enough time and you guys got really busy. But not many people were on the road at night, and with Sukuna’s driving you guys probably made it there in 20-25 minutes tops. 

You were so happy you could scream. It was apparent in your face, the brightest smile. You jumped out of the car and immediately ran into the store, Sukuna not far too behind you. 

You had already grabbed one of the small dark green dingy looking baskets, ah the same as always, from the entrance and were halfway down your favorite aisle by the time he got inside. 

He greeted the kind old lady at the register who had witnessed your excitement just moments ago, screeching with joy, which scared her when you rushed in. 

He quickly found the aisle you were in and watched you decide which snacks you wanted, carefully picking the items and placing them in the basket. 

You rushed from one place to another, grabbing drinks, chips, snacks, anything you wanted because who knows when you’ll visit here again. Then you just stopped, and Sukuna watching your madness didn’t think you were ever going to. Then your eyes started to well up with worry.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- I left my wallet back at your apartment, I can’t buy any of this-“

“What? I’m obviously buying, dimwit,” he scoffed repeating your words from earlier.

“Really?” You asked, the excitement immediately perking back up inside you. 

He didn’t even get to answer before you continued happily on your shopping spree, how could he say no anyways? By the time you were done you couldn’t even pick up your basket. You quickly looked to Sukuna for help, and he rolled his eyes taking the basket with his left arm. You began to giggle watching him walk to the register. You couldn’t help it, the sight of him carrying a basket like a soccer mom was just too funny. 

A stuffed full basket being carried by his well built arm, the vein bulging from the somewhat strenuous task being carried out. His hand flexing and unflexing to stretch after putting the basket down, making the veins even more visible as they pop out due to his contractions-

“Y/n? You coming? Don’t you wanna get home to eat all this stuff?” 

You quickly snapped out of your haze, and ran up to the register where Sukuna had already taken his wallet out to pay, making a comment about how you were most definitely going to eat it in his car. You left a happy customer that day.

Before you left you made Sukuna stop in front of the shop so that you could snap a quick photo of the two of you together, you wanted to send it to your moms. 

You smiled the whole car ride home, and when you got in the house. 

“Thank you,” you said sincerely with a huge grin on your face.

“Yeah, yeah I know I’m the best,” he replied with a smirk.

“Can you cook the ramen please?”

“Who else was gonna-“

And then the shrill ring of the doorbell rang. 

“Are you expecting someone?”

“No, no one comes over here. Maybe it’s just a package.”

“At 10pm?”

“I don’t know, maybe some drunk has the wrong door.”

Then it rang again.

“Okay maybe not…”

“Sukuna just go get the door I’ll start prepping-“

Before you could finish your sentence though, he already opened the door ready to tell off the drunk.

“Oh. It’s you.” 

You didn’t like Sukuna’s tone, and being the nosey person you are sometimes, you rushed to the door. You immediately understood his tone. 

“Oh, of course it’s you.”

@/cafekitsune for the divider

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings.

Additionally, I've been getting a lot of (understandable) messages concerned about the wellbeing of our lovely reader and Law, so I made a helpful little graph just to document the overall progression of the story and where you are so far as of this chapter :)

Do with this what you will <3

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock

Chapter 8

[Prev] [Next]

Law’s entire world was curled up on a hospital bed, an IV fluid drip in her hand and her eyes closed tightly shut, afraid that if they opened they’d have to relive the reality of the situation all over again.

You had continued bleeding throughout the car ride to the hospital, rendering the impromptu toilet paper pad completely ineffective.  Both what was left of that and your underwear were placed in a biohazard container, and you were placed in a fresh pair of hospital garments with a maxi pad that really operated similar to a diaper.  The bleeding also made you incredibly weak and lightheaded, leaving Law to sprint into the emergency room, grab a wheelchair, and bring you inside that way.

When he woke up this morning, he never would’ve guessed he would be seeing you in a hospital bed in the small emergency patient room.  You had showered and eaten breakfast, kissed him and pet Bepo.  Now you were actively expelling what was most definitely a miscarriage.

A gentle knock resounded outside the shut door.  You didn’t even move in reaction, staying inhumanly still with your eyes closed.  The door opened regardless however, and Law was met with the friendly, yet somber, face of your gynecologist.  Robin entered the room with a clipboard in her hand.  Law recognized her instantly, not as his wife’s gynecologist, but as a former classmate in medical school.  He never thought that she’d be the one taking care of this entire situation, and part of him was regretful that she had to see this side of him.

“Small world, huh?” Law asked, though his voice lacked any enthusiasm.

“Indeed it is, I was just reading the latest paper you published.  I was wondering how you were doing after residency,” the woman responded.

Law huffed with a minimal bounce of his shoulders.  “You could probably guess how I’m doing.  But, thank you for taking the time to drive here from downtown.”

“Of course, it was oddly good timing.  I have no patients at the clinic for the rest of the day.”  Robin’s lips pursed all of a sudden however, as she got down to business.  “I would like to talk to you privately, if that’s alright with you.”

The man’s eyes narrowed in concern.  “Why privately?”

Her voice lowered to a whisper.  “I’m not sure your wife is in a stable emotional state to hear what I have to say.”

With the way you hadn’t moved since you arrived, your IV drip slowly administering your fluids and a clip on your finger monitoring your pulse and oxygen levels, Law was starting to wonder if you had stressed yourself into a deep sleep.  He didn’t want to wake you to find out.  Instead, he quietly followed Robin out into the hallway, asking a nurse at the front desk to monitor your room for him.  He followed his former colleague into a small meeting room, where she shut the door behind the two of them for complete privacy.

“Law, I know you can handle the more… gritty side of things, so I’m going to be completely blunt with you,” she began, covering her clipboard of papers with her hands.  “I’m sure you’re already very aware, but your wife is currently undergoing an eight week miscarriage.  Her follow-up appointment from last week was supposed to be in two days, but clearly, we were correct in the possibility that she was seven weeks along when we couldn’t detect a heartbeat.”  It was then that she moved her hands, shuffling through the papers in her clipboard before producing a copy of your patient assessment and a small, enclosed envelope.  “Before I begin, I would like to ask you a few questions.  I was informed that you had blood work and a semen analysis done to confirm your fertility, correct?”

The non-professional side of Law felt slightly uncomfortable discussing the results of his semen analysis with his former residency colleague, but he knew this was crucial information.  He nodded, folding his tattooed hands above the table.  “Yes I did.  My hormone panel from the blood test came back completely normal without any anomalies, and the semen analysis showed a completely normal sperm count.”

Robin nodded, opening the envelope as she listened to him speak.  “Understood, so it’s safe to say you are fertile.”

“I would assume so,” he confirmed.

The black-haired woman produced a small set of photographs from the envelope.  “With that confirmed for me, I would like to show you these photos from your wife’s ultrasound last week.”  She laid out the small assortment of photographs, but held one down with her hand and used her pen to point out the barely-identifiable contents of the image.  (Which Law was grateful for, as he admittedly had no idea what he was looking at.  His brief rotation in gynecology did very little to cement the process of a uterine ultrasound.)

“This large black space is the amniotic fluid surrounding the embryo,” she described, moving the capped end of her pen around the space.  “This white blotch here is the embryo at around six weeks gestation, which I theorize is when it ceased development.  As you can see, it’s still attached to the wall of her uterus.”  Two taps of the pen against the image punctuated her statement.  “This area surrounding the amniotic fluid is the uterine tissue.”  Robin looked up at Law.  “Understood?”

It took a brief moment, but Law finally nodded his head.  “Yes.”

Silently, she moved the first image out of the way and replaced it with another one.  “Now I would like to draw your attention to this one.”

Law leaned forward in his seat, assessing the new image.  It looked completely different than the first, and he quietly waited for Robin to begin to describe what exactly he was supposed to be focusing on.

“This was taken at the beginning of the ultrasound.  My technician placed the transmitter on the left side of her abdomen before moving it toward the approximate location of the uterus to detect the fetus.  We were able to see a glimpse of her left ovary during this time.”  Once again, the pen tapped a specific area of the image.

Law’s heart rate increased.  “Please don’t tell me what I think you’re about to tell me.”

Robin shook her head.  “Not cancer,” she confirmed.  “However, do you see this patch of tissue right here?”  She circled the area.

He didn’t, really, but he nodded his head to urge her to continue.  

“It can’t be confirmed without surgery, but I have a strong suspicion that this is endometrial tissue.  I reviewed some of her patient notes and recalled certain appointments where she would inform me of abnormally heavy periods, but she never mentioned anything more specific, such as intense pain during menstruation, so it never seemed to affect her life outside of that.  But looking at her ultrasound images, I’m highly suspicious that she may have endometriosis, which can greatly negatively impact fertility.”

Law clenched his jaw.  “What kind of surgery is done to diagnose that?”

“We would confirm the diagnosis with a laparoscopy.  A small cut is made in the naval, and a thin instrument, similar to a camera, is inserted into the incision to scope out potential endometrial tissue.  In many circumstances, a similar laparoscopic method is used to surgically remove this endometrial tissue, however we would need a definitive diagnosis in order to perform this with confidence.”  Robin was stone-faced as she explained.

Law had a million questions racing through his mind.  He wished he could sit and ask all of them, but the most pressing one forced its way out of his mouth first.  “Will she ever be able to have children?”

“After a successful recovery from this miscarriage, and a successful recovery from laparoscopic surgery to remove endometrial tissue, if that is the case, then yes, her chances of becoming pregnant will remain.  However, women who experience at least one miscarriage have a higher likelihood of experiencing more, so you must take this into account if you decide to try for conception again.”

He nodded.  “I understand.”

Robin collected her paperwork, reviewing your patient chart once more.  “Other than the potential for endometriosis, her physical health is perfect.  There would be no other reason to me why she wouldn’t be able to have children, other than this one big issue.”

Law stayed silent as she explained.  He stood up as she did and followed her to the door, blindly keeping pace behind her as he was led back to your room.  The door was pushed open slowly so as to not potentially disturb you.  The nurse from prior stood from her seat, entering the hallway and quietly whispering to Law.

“She fell asleep, her vitals are good, however she should remain on fluids for a while longer.  Her blood pressure was lower than normal and her iron levels were reduced,” explained the nurse, who’s own eyes were creased with a sympathetic concern.

Law gave a curt nod.  “Thank you very much for staying there.”

“Of course, it’s my pleasure.  Come back to our desk if you need anything,” she replied before leaving to continue her work.

Robin held her clipboard under her arm.  “I’m going to return to my office and write a referral for a diagnostic laparoscopy, but I won’t make the official call until she gives me her full permission.  Does that sound good?”

Law nodded, rendered completely mute.

“Call my clinic if you need anything at all.  Tell them who you are, and I’ll make sure your calls get sent right to me.”  Robin was about to turn on her heel, but she looked back once more at the forlorn man.  “I don’t usually do that for my patients, but I know you, Law.  I know how genuine you are.  I can see how much you love your wife and how the both of you are eager for a successful pregnancy.  I want to do everything in my power to help you achieve that.”

Law inhaled a shuddering breath.  “Thank you, Robin, I… I appreciate that.”

She nodded her head, finally turning and pacing down the hallway.  Law entered your room once more and closed the door behind him.  He stood at the foot of your bed, following the hose from the IV bag down to where it was connected into the skin of your hand, taped in place to prevent its movement.  Your face was tucked into your arms, shielding your grief from the world.  The pulse monitor was moved from your index finger to your middle finger, constantly giving readings of your blood oxygen and iron count.

Law took his seat again, resting his elbows on his knees and dropping his head into his hands.  He only picked his head up to look at the digital clock on the wall.  It was already almost 5:00 PM.  He shoved his hand in his pants pocket and took out his phone, opening his text messages.

Hey, Shachi, can you or Penguin go to my apartment and feed Bepo?  If you could take him for a walk, too, that’d be really appreciated.

It didn’t take long for his phone to buzz with a response.

Dumb Orca

Yea of course. everything good????

Law sighed.

I’ll explain everything later, but we won’t be home for a little while.

Dumb Orca

Ight, bet. hope youre good

Law did really not want to explain the events of the day over text.  He placed his phone back in his pocket before eyeing your bag that was laying against the leg of his chair.  He reached down and fumbled quietly for your own phone, lifting it from your bag and illuminating your screen.  He input your passcode and glanced through your own texts.

Ika-chan

Hey girlie is everything alright???  Law came in to grab your bag

Ika-chan

Text me back as soon as you get this, i’m really worried!!!!!

Ika-chan

I love you boo xoxo

Nami Swan

Hey babes u left ur lunch in the kitchen fridge

Nami Swan

Where did u go???

Nami Swan

I’ll protect ur tupperware for 2day, but if u dont come back by 5 im letting usopp eat ur lunch

Nami Swan

U know how sanji feels abt wasting food

God Usopp

Hey can i have ur lunch

Boss-y

(2 Missed Calls)

Boss-y

(1 Voicemail)

Boss-y

Hey, your husband came in and picked up your bag.  He informed reception that he was taking you home, I hope everything’s alright.  Please call me back when you can, just so I know you’re alright.  If you need some time off, just feel free to let me know that as well so we can work around the project.  Don’t stress yourself out about coming back in too quickly, if something happened I want you to recover first and foremost.  Best wishes.

Law pressed the button on the side of your phone to set it to sleep mode before slipping it back into your bag.  He leaned back in his chair and stared blankly at your backside, curled away from him.

[seravphs]

omakase

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — SUNA x MAID! FEM READER; KAICHOU WA MAID SAMA AU

In which Suna becomes the maid. 

wc — 700

tags — Set after confectionery, can be read as a stand alone, suna in a maid outfit, fluff, humor 

prev: confectionery | shoujo series masterlist

“I’m- woah!”

It used to be strange seeing Suna at your place of work, but after a while, you got used to it. 

What you’re not used to is seeing him in one of your dresses. He has one leg stuck in a stocking. The other firm thigh is already firmly encased in the mesh fabric, topped off with a cute little bow. 

Your outfit reveals far more skin on him than it would on you. At 6’1”, he already towers over most girls in the cafe. With heels, he’s a Goliath. Your skirt barely covers him - you have to rush forward to stop him from bending over and inadvertently flashing someone. 

“Um. Playing a little dress up?” 

He perks up as you pull him upright. “Hey! Your manager said Shizuka’s out sick today, so I offered to step in.” 

It’s true that Shizuka’s charm point is her height. Her target audience is men who enjoy a little domination, but Suna might be too much for even them. 

He sidles towards you, swaying his hips like a model. It shouldn’t be as hot it is. Suna is unfairly pretty. He pulls off anything. 

“What?” He purrs, hot and heavy. You splutter, trying to play it off as a reaction to the fact that he’s trying to come on to you at your work place. “You like what you see?” 

He tugs his stocking a little lower, pulls his skirt a little higher. 

“Oh- okay!” You squeak out and slap his hand to his thigh, immobilizing him. “That’s enough from you.” 

He laughs, flashing you sultry eyes that make your throat dry. “Are you sure, master? I can keep going.”

“I’m going to hit you if you keep going,” you hiss at him. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he says with a grin. 

“Suna,” you groan, trying your best to look anywhere but him. “You’re impossible.”

But you love it. And he knows it. He’s weaponizing it against you. 

“Come on,” he says with a smile, pulling you out back to the alley behind the cafe. “We have work to do.” 

“Correction: I have work to do. You need to change out of my dress and go sit at your usual table.”

“You can’t tell me you’re not-“ 

“Hold up!” That’s Miya Atsumu’s voice. You freeze. This is exactly what you’ve always been afraid of. Suna’s fine. He’s comfortable to be around. You’ve never once thought that he would leak your secret, even back before you’d known him, but Atsumu would do it even if it wasn’t malicious. You don’t even know him, but you’ve heard of what a blabbermouth he can be. 

Suna pushes you behind him immediately, shielding you with his broad back. You’re completely hidden behind him. You feel better but - then where will he hide?

“A maid?” Atsumu whistles. “Hey, pretty thing.”

Your jaw drops. It’s impossible. Atsumu doesn’t recognize him at all. He can’t tell it’s his own teammate in the maid dress. You feel Suna stiffen, too, but unlike you, he’s holding back laughter. He’s not stressed out over the situation at all. 

Atsumu’s twin is a little more attentive. Osamu squints at him. “Suna?”

“Dumbass,” Atsumu scoffs. “That’s a girl!”

“Nope,” Osamu says. “I’m pretty sure that’s Suna in a wig and a dress.”

You have to hand it to Suna. He really commits to the bit. 

Suna gives Osamu a look of utter disgust and offense. With all the strength in his arm, capable of spiking at insane velocities, he slaps Osamu across the face. Poor Osamu doesn’t even have time to react before his head snaps to the side. 

“How dare you?” Suna trills in a falsetto. “I’m a girl!” 

Atsumu yelps and reaches for his twin’s hand, dragging him away as fast as he can. Osamu, still stunned, let’s himself be hauled away as he reaches a hand up to the angry red mark on his face. 

“Thank you,” you sigh in relief, sagging against Suna’s back. 

“It’s fine,” he says, smiling down at you. “That was kind of fun.” 

You giggle. “You’re evil.”

“Besides, I don’t like sharing anyway. We can keep this our little secret.’ 

You will your traitorous heart to stop pounding. 

[eddies-house]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Thirteen - Yours

W/C: 5K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

"To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it."

Sweet Nothing - T.S.

A/N: so i think this fic will probably come to and end soon, not really sure but ITS SO BITTER SWEET

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“Aliens aren’t real!”  A young boy, maybe eight years old shouts at Eddie, swiping the little action figure Eddie had placed on top of his toy fire truck, sending flying a few feet away.

“And you know that how?”  Eddie argues, arms crossed over his chest.  His dark gray knit sweater sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, a telltale sign of how heated the argument had become.  He sits on the floor, criss cross while a little girl sits behind him on the couch, her tiny fingers combing through his chocolate curls.

Sometime in between you offering to help dish up dessert and freshening up in the bathroom, Eddie seemed to have made a few new friends, quite the opposite of what you were expecting out of tonight.

“Clippy!”  The little girl demands, holding her hand out.  

Eddie’s eyes widened as if to recall he had a certain task that he’d abandoned, snatching up a tiny sparkly blue butterfly clip from the fibers of the carpet and holding it out in the palm of his hand.  Within seconds, the left side of his bangs are clipped away from his face.

“Cause they’re not!”  The boy shakes his head.

“Why?”  Eddie prods.

You can’t fight your grin, big bad Eddie decked out in tattoos fully engaged in a disagreement with an eight year old had you internally squealing.  You’d never been met with such a sight, such contrast as Eddie’s large hand held out yet another clip, a pink one this time.

“Cause.”

“Why.” 

“Just cause.”

“That’s not a reason!  Give me my guy back!”  Eddie attempts to reach for the little figurine across the carpet only for the little girl to protest, a whine stopping him from moving any further.  “Sorry, sorry.”  He surrenders, falling back into his original position.

“You messed it up!”  She begins to wail.

It’s evident you need to take the initiative, poor Eddie’s face contorting in horror as he squeezes his eyes shut.  Without another second wasted, you plop down next to her on the couch just above Eddie, greeting her gently.

“Hi, is this the salon?  I was told you do the best hair in town.”  You smile.  “May I make an appointment?”

Her big eyes take you in, scanning you up and down before realizing you’d only wanted to play.  A half done braid in one of Eddie’s strands of hair sits at the back of his head, one that seemed to fall apart in Eddie’s attempt to collect the little alien.  The girl, nodding shyly, starts to point toward the predicament she’s in.  

“Oh no!”  You sigh, placing your hands in your lap as if nothing could be done to aid in correcting the braid.

“Fix it, fix it.”  Eddie mutters under his breath, his hand covering his mouth to muffle his voice.

“Can I?”  You ask the girl, gesturing to her little toy hairbrush.

With a petite nod, she allows you to take the brush from her little hands as you begin to work it through the loose hairs that had come out of the braid.  

“You can be a firefighter.”  The little boy insists as he hands Eddie a new toy, an obvious scoff coming from the man.

“What’s your name?”  You ask the girl, ignoring him.

“Grace.”

“Grace?  That’s a pretty name.”  You begin to pinch the strands back together, braiding them.

Eddie’s thankful that his thoughts don’t project on the wall because in all honesty, he wants to throw himself out the window.  Not once had he ever desired having a kid.  Was this baby fever?  

In an instant those thoughts escaped his mind when you secured the little braid and began scraping your nails at the back of his head, combing through his tangled curls.  His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his skull, he could practically purr and was tempted to just curl up in your lap.  With a full belly and head scratches, he figures he can die happy.

“Are you sleeping?”  You snort, leaning forward only to catch a glimpse of his blissed out face.

”No.”

”Yes!”  The little boy chimes in.  

“Was not!”  Eddie argues, straightening himself up.  

The boy raises a brow at you, Grace happily twisting strands of Eddie’s hair together.  This felt like home.  This felt like the warm apple pie nestled in your stomach embodied as an emotion, gooeyness seeping from your raised cheeks and crinkled eyes.

Stolen glances at the dinner table just shy of a half an hour ago and brief touches of fingertips as you passed various dishes had warmth radiating throughout your body.  Home was starting to feel more like a person than a place.  Home had started to feel a lot like a person for a while now if only you had been more attentive to the fact sooner.  

Tiny smiles from a tough metal head only encouraged you to rest a delicate hand on his knee whenever possible throughout dinner.  Among all the chatter and friendly bickering, a silent conversation had been happening, an audience oblivious to the behind the scenes of the main attraction: a turkey big enough to nearly splinter the table.  A calloused thumb had grazed over the top of your hand, the touch enough to heat your cheeks and pull the corners of your mouth into a permanent grin.

His dimples took residence on his face the entire time, a shyness to him whenever you took the leap to intertwine your fingers together underneath the table.  A closeness only the two of you were aware of.  A gesture not too big, but not at all taken for granted as he returned an affectionate squeeze.

And when all was said and done, dinner had been devoured, dessert enjoyed, tiny gestures continued to bombard his and your heart the same.  Like an unspoken love war, who could offer the best token of their affections? 

Once Eddie was in the clear with Grace, you’d been able to steer him off to the kitchen, now completely void of busy bodies and full of empty plates and dirty dishes.  Your intent was to drop off your wine glass, and Eddie to discard his beer bottle.  Laughter rang throughout the house, something about a few of the adults playing drunk Twister.  It was lost on you, a large hand splayed out on your waist and pulling you toward Eddie’s warm body obliterating any other thoughts you had.

A buzzed haze lingered in both your stares, heavy eyes taking each other in.  The kitchen was dim, lights shut off for the time being as everyone ignored the ginormous mess awaiting them, only the light leaking in from the living room illuminating a fraction of the room.

”Hi.”  A whispered greeting, softly, for your ears only.

“Hi.”  You whisper back, a gentle finger tucking a rogue curl behind his ear, hot to the touch whether it be from the nerves or the alcohol you weren’t sure though you had a suspicion that it was both.

Your cold hand rests against his stubbly cheek, his eyes fluttering shut at the touch.  Your other hand trails up to rest flat against his chest, body heat radiating from him.  Anyone could walk in and spot you two at any second.  But neither seems to care.  

“You’re beautiful.”  He gulps, not enough beer in the world could aid him in having the confidence to tell you though he went for it anyway, humiliation could be confronted later.

He thanks whatever higher power is looking out for him that your eyes grow larger and twinkle in a way he’d now spend forever attempting to replicate.  A bashful smile parts your lips, your gaze shying away from him momentarily. 

His shy girl.

Several glasses of wine couldn't even hide the sheepish aura taking control of you.  Fragile fingers toyed with the neckline of his sweater, fidgeting with the chain around his neck.  A distraction from the flustering words.

”Yeah?”  You ask, small and sincere.

So small and sincere, he wonders how often you’d been made aware of your beauty.  So small and sincere, it’s like you almost didn’t believe him.  If that were the case, he’d kick the stupid butterflies in his stomach to the curb, suck it up, and tell you every chance he got.  

“Yeah.”  He tells you with a nod, waddling the both of you back and forth to the music drifting in from the living room record player, Can’t Help Falling in Love, Elvis.  “You’re beautiful.”  He repeats, his forehead now resting against yours.

He doesn’t know if his advances are correct.  Doesn’t have the experience of another woman’s touch to provide him the checks and balances.  But he figures that if he was wrong in his movements and words, you would’ve given him the hint by now.  

“And you’re handsome.”  Your lips hover just barely over his, nose nudging into his cheek endearingly, a sultry tone to your hushed voice that nearly makes him melt.

He had never been called handsome before, not in the tender way you were uttering it to him.  Sure, girls had attempted to lure him in for some free weed, never genuine and only for their own personal gain.  You never asked anything of him other than earlier when you’d asked him to stay.  Just to stay.  That was it.  And he couldn’t fathom it.

”Yeah?”  He mimics you from earlier, a genuine question falling from his mouth against your top lip.

Your answer doesn’t come in the form of words but in the seal of a kiss, a promise against plush, slightly chapped skin.  A statement.  A devotion.  

I am yours, I hope you’ll be mine.

Noses smash together as your lips mold to his, his hands coming up to cup your face with anxious hands.  Similarly, yours reach up to rest against his cheeks, one hand working on its own accord to tuck itself into his hair, thumb brushing over his ear to fidget with the little silver hoop dangling from his ear lobe.  Rather than ignore the shiver it sends up his spine, he embraces it, stroking his thumbs along the highest points of your cheeks.  His rounded nose nuzzles into yours, lips parting from each other slightly, the tiniest strand of saliva hanging from either end.  Suddenly, you feel the pad of his thumb brush against your bottom lip, tugging it ever so gently with crinkly eyes and a toothy grin.  His answer.  His own devotion to you.

I have been yours all along.

—

“You’re biting me.”  You laugh, a bit too obnoxiously for your own liking.  

Eddie’s canine grazes your top lip, teeth clashing against yours.  His determination was endearing though you were hoping to keep your lips intact and your tooth unchipped.  A breathy laugh against your cheek sends shivers through your body, his voice dripping in honey, more so than you’d previously heard.  A side of him that not another soul had been granted access.

“Sorry.”  

Endless giggles–yes, giggles-fall from his lips against your skin, his forehead bumping against your temple, hands fiddling with the hem of your sweater.  You start to wonder how anyone could see him as anything but gentle.  Anything but sweet.  

The truck was cold enough that you saw your breath in the air, a warning that you should head inside though you couldn’t find it in you to part from him.  Invite him in, you found that little voice in your head saying.  But you didn’t want to push.  Despite the front he could put on he was delicate, you could see it in his eyes.  Chocolatey pools of vulnerability that had previously been stone cold but slowly melted for you.

“Slower.”  A whispered instruction, your hand cradling his jaw as you hover your lips just above his.  “Softer.”  You playfully nip at his bottom lip, plump and kissable.  

He offers a hesitant kiss, lips gently brushing over yours before pulling away.  

“Like that?”  It’s barely a whisper.  A kind of anxious fear falling out of his brain and into the air, a thought he didn’t mean to put so much emotion behind.

“More.”  Your lips meet his again, encouraging him.  “Like you need it.”

A large hand rests at your waist, nearly pulling you into his lap though the steering wheel prevents him from doing so.  Instead he dives into you, nose smashing into yours, eyelashes fluttering against your skin as eager lips work themselves against you.

“Mhm.”  You mumble, nodding, motivating him.  “Just like that.”  You gasp, unable to get another syllable in before his tongue interrupts you.

Teaching Eddie the basics of how to make out wasn’t something you had envisioned when fantasizing about him previously.  But it was so much better than anything your mind could’ve conjured up.  It was endearing, the way he was so hesitant, so unsure, as if you weren’t ready to pounce into his lap hours ago.  As if you hadn’t been glancing his way all evening, flirtation twinkling in your eyes and necessity for his touch obvious in the way that you would graze him any chance you could.

“Like that?”  He repeats, excitement leaking in his question whether he knew it or not.

He was a quick learner, leveling up from awkward and uncertain to velvety smooth and confident in his movements.  The more you egged him on, the more greedy he became, holding your face in his hands, tongue exploring against yours, lips finding a rhythm as they smeared your lipgloss.  He was covered in it, some lingering on the tip of his nose and when you attempted to wipe it off he was kissing you again.

“Just like that.”  You practically whine into his mouth.

—

Weeks passed by, a quiet romance blossoming with each and every interaction.  Within those weeks, there were stolen kisses at the bar on smoke breaks and in passing.  You didn’t mind the tobacco on Eddie’s breath though you still encouraged him to quit.  It more so bothered you that he was increasing his chances of his health deteriorating.

“So everyone can blame you when I get grumpy if I quit?”  Eddie grinned, dimples deep in his cheeks.

”You’re already grumpy.  Even after your smoke breaks.”  You giggle.

The Bourbon was doing well enough, the evening rush not quite arriving yet as the remaining beams of sunlight set behind the horizon at a premature five o’ clock.  Happy Hour had officially started though the blanket of snow coating the town fended off some regulars as they opted for the comfort of their own homes, almost like hibernating animals.

”Is that so?”  Eddie chuckles.

The tiny hallway just outside the office was secluded from any view from the rest of the bar.  Especially the corner he was backing you into.  Slowly, as if you were prey, he stalked toward you, caging you in with his arms.  You couldn’t help but admire the lean muscle as it tensed against the wall next to you.

”Mhm.”  You hum.  “So if you think about it, you’ll be grumpy either way so you might as well—“

You weren’t prepared for his lips to smash against yours so suddenly, his tongue grazing your bottom lip before pulling away.  A smile hid behind his eyes, his teeth sinking into his lip as he tilted your chin with his index finger.  

God, was he fucked.

“You really want me to quit?”  He asks, drowning in your eyes.

He’d do it for you. Only for you.  Anyone else could ask him and he’d tell them to fuck off then and there.  But you had him wrapped around your finger.  Where he once didn’t care about anyone else’s opinion, he cared about yours, he deeply cared about yours.

”Well I-I just-I think—“

”Tell me.  Tell me you want me to quit.”  Eddie demands, encouraging you to stand your ground, be firm with him.

”Well, only if you want to.”  You say quietly, your gaze nearly forcing him to his knees.

”My shy girl.” He whispers, tracing his knuckles against your cheekbone.

You made it so easy to go soft.  So easy to submit to.  Yes, he was the more dominant one by definition but he kneeled to you in every instance.  It took him a while to realize it but it was so obvious now.  Eddie was coming to find that when he fell, he fell hard.  Faceplanted.  

“Yours?”  You question.  Nothing had been established yet though you both had a pretty good idea where the other stood.  

“If you want.”  He uses your words against you, smirking.

You’d pin the mental polaroids you’d been taking of his dopey face on that ever growing wall in your brain forever.  Frame them, even.  Put them on display like a museum.  They were precious, untouchable.  No one could taint them, not on your account.

”Yeah.”  You nod, a breathy sigh escaping your lungs.  Solace washes over you, like your heart had just realized it had found a long lost piece of itself.  And it whispers:  Oh.  There you are.    “Yeah.”

And immediately your lips are on his again, a craving for nicotine kisses that drove you crazy.  Then, a muttered promise against you had your head spinning.

”’M gonna quit.  Just be patient with me.”  

“Always.”

One of the new hires, Rex, had interrupted, shouting from around the corner that there was a “Code Vomit” near the bar.  It didn’t spoil the lovesickness that poured from your mouth into his, only forced you into desperation as you chased his lips.  Eddie’s eyes rolled, the scent of your perfume much more preferable to the puke out on the floor.

Later you talked him down, insisting that the new hires didn’t need to “earn” their status though Eddie thoroughly disagreed.  You suppose he had a bias, being pulled away from you mid-makeout surely increasing his grumpy mood.

“They’re fine, they can deal with a little puke.”  His hands dramatically gesture toward the office door, shutting you both in and shielding you from wandering eyes.  

“Just because you put me through trials and tribulations doesn’t mean we need to continue the tradition with them.”  

“Oh–I did not–”  Eddie scoffs.

“You did.”  You grace him with a smirk.  

“Bambi.” 

“Eddie.”  You sing his name.

For a silent moment, he stares.  His stares had become increasingly softer, his rough edges fading away anytime you were in his presence.  And you knew he surrendered before even saying another word.

“Forgive me?”  A hopeful question as he steps forward, looping a finger in one of your belt loops, tugging you toward his chest.

“Hm.”  You hum in thought, eyes fixing themselves on the ceiling rather than his large, intriguing eyes.

“Hm?”  He hums back, an inquiry.

“I dunno.”  

You were playing games, the kind of games he was unfamiliar with.  A territory he’d only recently stepped into, a flirtatious bantering that had his heart fluttering, aching because it had never been used to this kind of attention.  The muscle had never been exercised, never prepared for this kind of thing.  

“Tables are filling up, need another set of hands!”  Jett bangs a fist on the door, not lingering for any longer than he has to as he continues managing the sudden rush.

“Yeah, yeah.”  Eddie calls back.  

“How can I make it up to you?”  He tilts his head, his tone quieter in contrast.

Rather than supply him with an answer, a delicate hand cups his jaw, a slow yet passionate kiss pressed to his lips as he gladly reciprocates.  His hold tightens on your waist, pulling you even closer if possible.  

“You’re forgiven.”  You whisper, twirling one of his curls with your finger.  

You leave him in his office, pretending to ignore the rock hard bulge in his jeans.  It’s not until around ten minutes later that he shuffles awkwardly into the bar and you’re sure you’re the only one who catches the little kick he does as he finishes adjusting himself.  

–

The phone call comes unexpectedly.  Wayne only calls on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.  8:00 AM.  Three times a week, a well polished routine.  It was Thursday night.  9:00 PM.

Eddie had stared at the phone, hearts taking the shape of his pupils at the prospect of it being you on the other end.  Another routine he’d been carefully trying to curate, every other night risking his integrity just to hear your voice.  Stupid, he knows.  With you just a few yards away in your own home, he may as well just show up on your porch but this…this was comfortable.  He didn’t have to fear not touching you enough or overstepping.  It was only your soft tone, his hushed responses, and the evening out of breaths between two half asleep souls.  You hadn’t chanced calling him first, not yet.  There was a mutual understanding that this was all unscathed territory, your knowledge of Eddie’s past confirming that moving too fast would only scare him off like a spooked horse.  

He was grateful for your everlasting patience though he didn’t know how to navigate telling you that you could call him any time, night or day, and he would gladly pick up.  He wouldn’t mind your voice lulling him to sleep, and welcomed the idea of his ears perking up, his body reacting to your voice like he just had a shot of espresso should you call him first thing in the morning.  Yes, he wanted to take it slow, wanted to respect the boundaries around his heart he’d spent so long putting up.  But he also didn’t have the patience you yielded and often found himself wanting to take a hammer to any walls he still had up.

Wayne’s usually gruff voice surrendered to a more calming tone, one that Eddie hadn’t really ever heard or cared to remember hearing since Mama had passed.  No, he hadn’t heard this frequency of gentle words since that one night, he was six and his only worry should’ve been his spelling test the following morning.  Unfortunately his worries far exceeded that of a first grade spelling list he had practiced with Wayne and Mama all week.  

His uncle's breathing wavered, a nervousness about him that had Eddie paralyzed with his palm beginning to sweat against the plastic of the phone.  He could nearly picture the way the older man’s calloused hand would rub over his scruff, his head shaking as he searched for words.  Eddie couldn’t anticipate what kind of news was about to break.  Was Wayne sick?  How long did he have?  How was he going to get him to agree to move out with him so he could take care of him?  Was Wayne even allowed to move in with him, did Eddie’s government contracts allow for that?  He hadn’t bothered to search that far into it initially seeing as his uncle was stubborn and thought it best to let Eddie take the reins on his life after everything went down.  Let him do what he always said he wanted to do, get out of Shit-Hole-Small-Town-Hawkins.  He had Grandpa Roy anyhow, waiting on the other end of everything to support Eddie, he didn’t need Wayne anymore.  

Eddie told himself as such, too, so he could get out of his old man’s hair, let him live his life without supporting some kid he never asked for.  He knew he loved him unconditionally but he owed him that much.

Thousands upon millions of thoughts engulfed Eddie’s brain, everything that could go wrong, that other shoe was about to drop, it had to be, Christmas was just around the corner and it wouldn’t be a true Munson holiday without something going wrong.  It’s why he didn’t celebrate anymore.

“Kid, I gotta tell you somethin’,”  Wayne warned his nephew.  “It’s about your dad.”

Eddie blurted out every possible scenario the second he was mentioned.  Every plausible reason.  It had been years, maybe over six?  He hadn’t spoken to or heard from his dad in around six years although there was no telling if he had tried through the means of Wayne and his uncle had never relayed his messages.  For good reason.

“He got caught up again and needs a place to crash.”

“He needs money.”

“A getaway driver.”

“An accomplice he can screw over when it all goes to shit.”

”Just say it, he needs his fuckin’ son to help him out of some shit and he’s got no one else to turn to.  That’s it isn’t it?”

Venom lingered on Eddie’s tongue, he wondered why the man didn’t just call him himself, though Eddie would hang up at the first trace of his voice.  At least then though, his dad would’ve been man enough to seek him out on his own this time.  At least then, it would’ve shown he tried to track Eddie down; put in some effort.  Eddie didn’t want that…did he?  He hated that man with every ounce of his existence but something about appeasing him always remained deep in his gut.  Like a virus.  

The little boy in him couldn’t let go.

Couldn’t let go of the what ifs.  

The daydreams of what could have been.  They poisoned his mind, every now and then reducing him to a ghost of himself.  Eddie wasn’t proud of it, who would be?  Idolizing a man that never existed?  Dad was never one to teach him to play ball or take him on fishing trips, no, he was the man that taught him to hijack cars and talk his way out of trouble.  The kind of trouble that lands you in a cell for a night or two.  The kind of trouble that got him caught in the crossfire of two local gangs and when he turned to his pops for help, he was nowhere to be found.  He was twelve.

He was twelve and was beaten to a pulp in an alley near downtown.  Left to choke on his own blood.  Dad was long gone and the only one he could count on was himself and even then, he feared he would black out before being able to crawl to the nearest payphone.

Wayne picked him up that night, red in the face because of his brother and blue in the eyes for the broken boy in his passenger seat.  if he could die and give Eddie a life worth living a thousand times over he would.  The kid never stood a chance in his brother’s hands and he’d done everything he could to get Eddie out of that godforsaken house that was full of dust bunnies and beer cans but Eddie was hard-headed and always vouched for his deadbeat father.  It’s all he knew.  It’s what he thought love was.

But after that night, Eddie didn’t fight back.  Didn’t refuse going back to the trailer park, his heart still stuck in that stupid house his dad rarely came back to.  Didn’t protest.  He wanted to, god he wanted to but his ribs were so damn bruised that words were impossible to create.

He still craved affection from his father, even when he left him for dead.  Still wanted his approval.  Wanted to ask if he was good enough.  If he had even been the slightest bit proud.  Those conversations never happened.

Wayne cleared his throat in preparation for his next words.  Words that he wasn’t even quite sure how to piece together.  

“Ed, he-“. Wayne stuttered.  “Your dad, he was-he had a run in with the cops.”

Eddie wasn’t sure what his uncle was trying to get at, dad always had run-ins with the cops.  It happened more often than not.  Maybe this time he wasn’t so lucky, maybe this time he got himself thrown in jail for good.  

“Figures.  What does he want, bail money?”  Eddie spat.

Rage clouded his vision, how much audacity did his dad have?  Did he really think Eddie would bail him out after the last incident?  Perhaps the last incident had been a tad more tame than others, Eddie made it out in one piece, conscious and not too badly bruised.  What made it different though: pieces of Mama had been destroyed, burnt to a crisp.  And that in of itself severed the remaining tie.  Burned the entire bridge.

“He’s gone.”

Eddie let the words bounce around in his brain briefly.  Gone?

”What, so, he fled the country?”  He asks.

Wayne sighs, keeping Eddie on edge, making him wonder what was so damn different this time that had the old man delaying his words.  His uncle was not one to sugar coat things.

”He was shot, Ed.”  Wayne says quietly, almost with regret.  Regret for the small boy he knows still resides within Eddie.

Eddie’s breathing comes to a halt, stalls in his lungs.  It couldn’t be.  The devil himself couldn’t be dead, he had to be immortal, always lingering somewhere awaiting Eddie’s everlasting loyalty.  Why did he feel sad?  Why did the tears well up in his eyes for a man who never shed a tear for him?

”He’s—he’s—dead?”  Eddie whispers the word, the reality of everything sinking in far too quickly.

Time freezes and he is a boy, sharing a frozen dinner with the man who promised and promised and never delivered.  He is just a boy and he is looking at that man with stars in his innocent eyes, devoting every hope and dream to the life they would one day have, the life pops told him stories of.  He was just a boy.

”Look, son—“

”I have to—I’m sorry.”  Eddie sniffles before dropping the phone back down, burying his reddening face into his shaking hands.

He surrenders his body, sliding down toward the crumby kitchen floor and bringing his knees toward his chest in an effort to disappear.  His cheeks wet and body trembling with sobs, he can't help but ask himself, why?  

Why do I care so much?

Why am I sad?

Why does grief feel so wrong?

~end~

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Mileapo x Srichand live [19.09.2023] - highlights ✨

*all translations without links are google translations from thai tweets*

Mileapo flirty eyes at the beginning of the live just to warm up the atmosphere ahahah

They played a game where they had to put each other’s IG posts in chronological order

Mile got them all wrong except one lmao. He said it was difficult because Apo never posts according to the timeline; he updates his posts randomly (okay but that’s true jadjdkd)

The set of photos below is the one arranged by Mile, the one on top is the set in the correct chronological order

It was very cute when Apo described all the pics and when he arrived to the pic from China, he said: “here, i didn’t go with p’Mile” because all the others were moments he has shared with him 🥹

When it was Apo’s turn to arrange the pics, he got the order perfectly right like a real greenyrose

Apo's comment: i've been paying attention to pmile's life

OKAY

Quiz from the host

Host: tell what the number 525600 represents

Apo: *answers fast because he feels he knows the answer* the time you take to walk from the earth to the moon.

Mile: the number of minutes in a year

*Spoiler: mile’s answer is correct*

Mile: *makes fun of Apo because he invented walking to the moon*

Apo: *laughs* you make me feel dumb

Mile: naaah, you have good imagination

(he makes fun of him but always protects him <3)

Smoothiegate part 5 😂 (prev)

Apo said that one of Mile’s secrets he’d like to know is: "Do you think I like coffee or smoothies?" (Ahaakskhsh such a teaser)

Mile: suppose you could go back in time and solve any answer. Someone would ask again what drink Po likes most in life. Po would answer…..

Apo: I like smoothies 😃

Mile: *bitter* Okay… Okay… Okay…….

LMAOOOO

The host asks them the same question:

To Mile: If you could switch bodies with Apo for one day, what would you do?

Mile: i would post on every social media that i love coffee

(HE WON’T STOP WILL HE AKSKSL)

To Apo: If you could switch bodies with Mile for one day, what would you do?

Apo: I would take off my shirt and flex my muscles in the mirror.. he’s so handsome

APO PLSSSSSSS

They both got scared lol

The host asked them to role play as each other

Apo: if Mile likes something, he then comes and gives it to me and tells me, do you want it? He likes to share

:)

Then they both started doing an impression of the other and they were sooo chaotic.. apo was moving really slow while mile started running around while eating 😂

Mile then offered his mooncake to apo proving that what apo had just said it’s true ❤️

Silly dance time :D

Apo after finishing dancing: when i was dancing i thought i was BTS

(lmaoooo what 🤣)

By the end of the live:

Apo: Where are we going?

Mile: We’re going to France, right?

Apo: Yes yes yes

Mile: for Dior and Business of Fashion

YAAAAY. The date is september 26 btw;)

[halfmoth-halfman]

i. it's a new day, it's a new life

Pairing: Mob Boss!Price x F!Reader Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: alcohol mention, (very, very brief) blood mention Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. prev | next

If you’re on time, you’re late.

That’s what your father drilled into your head—one of his many rules for life and how it should be lived. As a kid, you hadn’t cared much about the endless rules and regulations and life lessons he tried to impart on you, but as an adult, you’ve found an appreciation for his old words of wisdom. You try to live your life accordingly—be a woman he would’ve been proud of.

Though, you suppose trying to make him proud is what got you in this situation in the first place.

Regardless, his schedule is burned into your brain, leaving you wide awake and ready to go a full two hours before your first shift at The 141. Nerves and excitement combine into a cocktail of restlessness that has you pacing the length of your motel room. It’s a short walk both ways, your feet following the already well-worn path of the dingy, frayed carpet.

When pacing doesn’t settle you, you opt to lie down. Flopping back onto the partially stained sheets of your lumpy bed to stare up at the ceiling—its popcorn surface cracked and chipped from a shoddy attempt at repairing the water damage.

This isn’t where you expected to end up—stuck in some rundown motel with nothing but the clothes on your back.

You thought you’d get much farther than this.

But with hardly any cash and a car running on empty, rival territory seemed as good a place to stop as any. At the very least, it meant you wouldn’t be followed.

If there were any rules your father was lenient on, crossing into 141 territory wasn’t one of them; everyone in your family—and anyone who was familiar with them—knew better than to disobey him.

Had he a grave, you might’ve actually visited it to give your thanks.

A stray mattress spring digs into your lower back—sharp edge scratching through your thin, black shirt and the thick denim of your jacket—pulling you from your wandering thoughts.

Might as well get a head start.

You bounce yourself into an upright position, double-checking the laces of your boots before you stand. The lights flicker when you flip the switch, flashing too bright before shutting off as you step out into crisp autumn air. You look at the door behind you, slotting your keys between your fingers to form a makeshift claw in your fist as you cross the parking lot to your car.

Your car’s in as bad shape as the room—bought used, and paid for in cash—but it gets you where you need to go, so you don’t complain. You slide into the driver’s seat—shutting the door twice because it never closes all the way the first time—and check for your duffle bag in the backseat before putting your key in the ignition. It takes a minute to start, then another to stop rattling, but you have extra time and don’t mind the wait.

The drive to the club is uneventful—too early for morning traffic—and you have another hour before you’re meant to start, so you take your time on the drive.

You park in the back this time, tucking your duffle bag under the backseat, then double and triple-checking that the doors are locked before making your way to the front of the club.

No one else appears to be inside, but the door’s unlocked, and the lights are on. You can see a small, wheeled cart full of cleaning supplies sitting near the stage that you can only guess is for you. If your watch is correct, you have a little under half an hour before you have to start. You could start now—get a jump on what you're sure is to be a busy day—or…

Your father’s armchair tales ring in the back of your head.

What was it he had said?

They paint the walls red so you can’t see the blood stains and keep the bodies in a morgue hidden behind the walk-in freezer.

You doubt there are any secret morgues, but you are curious about the rest of the interior. And it would help to be familiar with the layout before you start cleaning, right?

It takes alarmingly little to convince yourself to have a little walkabout—you always were too curious for your own good—making your way to the bar first. The stairs leading to the second floor are on the left and roped off with a thick velvet cord, so you turn your attention to the right side.

The booths don’t interest you; though the heavy curtains cover them, you know what lies behind them. There's a short hall past them that leads to a large set of double doors with glass windows that reveal part of a massive kitchen. Even from here, you can tell the countertops are polished to perfection. It almost reminds you of—

Nope.

You turn away from the kitchen, ignoring the small knot of dread and nostalgia that begins to settle in the pit of your stomach. You turn to face the stage, leaning back against the bar top. There’s a hallway to the left of the stage that winds around behind it, but there are no lights to illuminate the way, and you know better than to wander down unlit hallways.

That just leaves—

Between the booths and the hallway behind the stage are a pair of solid black double doors. Similar to the one in front of the stairs, a gold stanchion sits in front of them, but there’s no velvet cord connecting them.

You’ve got twenty-six minutes to kill.

Why not?

A small skip down the stairs and a few hurried steps, and you’re at the door, glancing to your left and right before you set a hand on the cold metal of the door handle and turn.

With a sharp click, the door sways open.

Why don’t they ever lock their doors?

You creep inside, holding the handle down to shut the door silently behind you. You’re let into a small waiting room with more double doors—this set is solid glass, save for the handles, with one door slightly askew. You take that as an invitation, waltzing through the doors with care to not leave fingerprints on the glass.

You’d have to be the one to clean them, after all.

A strange sense of nostalgia hits you as soon as you enter the office. All dark wood and luxury, you’re hit by the scent of cigars—the expensive kind your father kept in his own office but never actually smoked—with undertones of a spiced cologne. You stand opposite the desk—a spacious cocobolo covered in papers, picture frames, and a closed laptop.

The wall to your right has been converted to several overflowing bookshelves surrounding a large fireplace. The wall to your left houses a large TV and a fully stocked whiskey cabinet that stretches up to the ceiling. Plush couches sit on either side of you—two near the fireplace and one facing the wall-mounted television—matching the chairs sitting in front of the desk.

Probably shouldn’t be in here.

You ignore the desk and the alcohol, heading straight for the wall of books. There are a few you recognize, but most are unfamiliar to you. Your fingertips graze the spines, admiring the soft feel of the leather covers as you search for titles you know.

It takes a few shelves, but you manage to find one you recognize. You pluck it from the shelf without a thought—in awe at the beautiful, custom cover—but the weight of it takes you by surprise. It’s not an overly thick book, you think, balancing it in one hand to open the cover, so why is it—

The carved-out pages are a surprise.

The gun even more so.

Definitely shouldn’t be in here.

“Find something you like?”

You snap the book shut with a swiftness, holding it behind your back as you slowly turn toward the doors. A man stands in the open space, staring you down with an arched brow on his otherwise blank face.

He hadn’t been there the day before; you’re sure you would’ve remembered him if he had.

Kyle and the others had seemed friendly—if somewhat caught off-guard—but this man is all authority. Calm, intimidating authority. Gentle waves ready to pull you into the violent undertow.

Dark brown hair just beginning to grey at the temples and…unique facial hair; he stares you down with piercing blue eyes and thick arms folded across his broad chest.

You know designer when you see it.

And though he appears dressed in simple black pants and a white button-up with rolled-up sleeves, you can tell the fabric, and its quality, cost more than most anyone could afford.

He’s handsome—in a stern, professor sort of way.

“Good read?” he asks, stormy cerulean gaze dipping down to where your hands are tucked behind your back.

Oh.

That deep rasp melts into your ears, dripping into your brain to pour a fiery path down your spine and settle into a burning pit low in your belly.

“I wasn’t— I—” you stutter, struggling for words and praying he can’t see the red blooming on your face.

Calm down.

The worst he can do is kill you.

You collect yourself, opening your mouth to respond properly, but he beats you to it, “Club’s not open right now, love.”

“I work here,” you say, plastering that award-winning smile on your face. His eyes snap to yours, thick brows knitting together.

“That so?” he asks, slow and disbelieving. “And what is it you do here?”

“Clean,” you answer. You move the book-slash-gun-case to one hand so you can check your watch. “In fact, my shift starts in…two minutes and thirty-six seconds. So, I should probably…y’know…go clean.”

You take easy, deliberate steps, moving in front of the desk so you can set the book on top of it. You try to be discreet, but something about those eyes tells you not much gets past this man. You take a step forward, but he doesn’t move, standing firmly in your path.

“The new cleaner,” he sighs, uncrossing his arms to run his thumb over an eyebrow. “It’s Robin, yeah?”

“Canary, actually.” The smile does little to hide the bite in your voice, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Canary,” he says your name slowly, letting it roll off his tongue as if to get a taste of your character. “The woman my son hired with no phone and asked to be paid in cash.”

His son? Kyle?

Well…at least your boss is nice to look at.

“Yep, that would be me—” you straighten up, extending your hand out to him, “—pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Sir,” he laughs to himself—a quiet, amused huff just under his breath—and reaches out to wrap his large hand around yours. “Price. John Price.”

His handshake is firm—a little too firm in your opinion—but he’s so warm the heat from his skin sinks into your palm and spreads up your arm.

“Did Gaz go over the club rules with you when he hired you?” Mr. Price asks, holding your gaze as he shakes your hand.

“Gaz?”

“My son, Kyle.”

“Oh. No, not really.” The handshake continues through your short conversation, his hand slowly tightening around yours. You loosen your grip to pull away, but his fingers squeeze around yours.

“I won’t bore you with the details, then. But I’ll let you know the most important one.”

Shocks of pain shoot through your wrist as his hand tightens into a vice. He yanks you forward with surprising strength, and you stumble at the sudden jerk. You catch yourself before you collide with him, but you’re significantly closer—almost chest-to-chest with him.

He takes it in stride, leaning down to set his mouth near your ear. His beard scratches at your skin as the pressure from his hand begins to cut off circulation in your own.

He smells just how his office looks: all smoked wood and wealth and danger.

“You don’t come into my office. Ever. Understood?” His voice is a quiet growl in your ear—a gentle one-time forgiveness with a warning that is more promise than threat; you doubt he’s ever made a threat he wouldn’t follow through on.

A chill wracks your body.

You can’t tell if it’s from fear or inappropriate excitement.

He pulls back to look at you, ocean-hued eyes staring down into yours. You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you nod, and finally he lets go of your hand.

He brushes past you, scent lingering behind as you attempt to massage the feeling back into your palm.

“You can go home for the day. Start fresh tomorrow,” Mr. Price says casually, picking up the book you’d left on his desk and heading to return it to its place on the bookshelf. “Ghost will show you out.”

You whip around to stare at his back in confusion.

“Ghost?”

Is this place fucking haunted?

What are the ethics of employing the dead?

He looks back at you, nodding at something over your shoulder. You slowly follow his gaze, turning your head like a horror-movie protagonist.

Your nose nearly collides with an impressively solid chest. You crane your head up, searching for a face that must be attached to this solid wall of muscle and intimidation before you. How had a man that size gotten so close without a sound?

He’s dressed in solid black, this giant, every inch of skin covered from the neck down. A cloth mask rests over the bottom half of his face, white paint dried and chipping in the shape of the bottom half of a skull. His honey-brown eyes are shadowed by smudged black paint that reminds you all too much of your three-day-old eyeliner after a weekend bender. His sandy-blonde hair is cropped short, strands hanging messily over his forehead. Twin scars bisect his left eyebrow and eyelid, and pull taut as he glares down at you.

“Let’s go.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, crushing grip wrapping around your forearm to pull you toward the door. He shoves you through it—not hard, but forceful enough for you to trip over your own feet—following directly behind you.

“See you tomorrow, Sparrow!” Mr. Price calls just as the door shuts.

Ghost follows you all the way to the parking lot, close enough for you to feel his body heat at your back at all times. He watches you get into your car, shut the door once then twice, and listens to the engine struggle to a start.

He doesn’t leave as you pull out of the lot, and you can see his shadowy form watching you in your rear-view mirror.

You get back to the motel in record time, but once you pull into a space, you can’t find it in yourself to get out. Instead, you fold your arms over the steering wheel, dropping your head on top.

“What am I doing?” you mumble, pressing your forehead into your arms.

That was the question, wasn’t it?

What are you doing?

You didn’t have to be here. You could’ve been back in the comfort of your home, lounging by one of the pools or getting ready for some fancy gala with those frilly little cakes and good wine.

But pools and galas meant skimpy bathing suits and revealing dresses; both options meant being leered at by those around you and being put down by—

Stop it.

You turn and rest your cheek on your arms, glancing behind you at the duffle bag lying on the floorboards.

It’s not ideal, where you’re at now, but it’s better than where you used to be. A small bump in the road is all this is. No one will follow you here, and you can deal with John Price and his intimidatingly handsome face for the few weeks it’ll take to get some cash under your belt so you can move on.

For now, you're safe, and that’s all you need.

taglist: @sleepyendymion, @blazedprince, @blueoorchid, @ohgodthebogisback, @melancholyy-hill, @wasteland-babe

[pearbunny]

the bucket list ✘ [one]

series masterlist | prev | next [ ❀ spotify playlist ]

summary: Fly to Korea. Check. Buy a bouquet of flowers for a stranger. Check. Have said stranger come along with you to accomplish your bucket list? Well that wasn’t on the list, but falling in love was. 

pairing: han jisung x afab!reader

genre: 18+ [MDNI] strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, mostly fluff, later chapters to include: angst, comfort, smut.

general warnings:  tourist!mc, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, nudity, cursing, mentions of death in later chapters, eventual smut. 

word count: ~3.6k 

chapter content: mentions of food, excessive lip biting as a nervous habit, cafe employee!seungmin, stranger danger tbh don’t be like o/c, Lee Know mentioned, but not present. 

author’s note: I've never written for stray kids and most of what i write is typically on the sadder side so fluff isn't my strongest point but i've had this in my head for awhile. feedback, reblogs, likes, v much appreciated. :) updates will be sporadic, but i'm aiming for once every two weeks.

You shield your eyes from the beating sun above, pupils unadjusted from being on a plane for the past 12 plus hours with the window shut. You let go of the suitcase you had been dragging along behind you to fish your phone out of your back pocket. Humming to yourself, you check the map, trying to find your way to Seoul. “Ah!” You say into the air, which grants you a couple of curious and annoyed stares. You duck your head in an attempt to be unseen, embarrassed by the attention. You make your way to the train station and purchase a ticket. It doesn’t take long for the train to arrive, and soon you’re sitting with your backpack in your lap and your suitcase between your legs.

According to the tourist guide you had pulled up on your phone, the train ride would take around 40 minutes. In the meantime, you rummage through your backpack to look for an old loosely bound book. You find it after digging past your makeup bag and some snacks you had saved from the flight. With a hum, you search through the pages, and after some flipping, you land on the correct one. Your index finger traces down a list, and randomly you stop it. “Buy a bouquet for a stranger.” 

You chew on your lip, a habit you picked up whenever you found yourself feeling uneasy. You may not bethe most outgoing person, but you aren't completely against socializing. 

It’s just … going up to a stranger in a town– let alone country– you’ve never been in was 1000% terrifying. 

Before you know it, the intercom announces your stop and you're scrambling to gather your belongings. You make your way out of the station and suddenly, you hold your breath in awe at the scene in front of you. There were so many people, walking in every direction. You hear little tidbits of their conversations: where they were planning to go for lunch, the new restaurant that opened up in Itaewon, what someone’s boyfriend had given them for their 100 days. The sounds of a city fill your ears. 

If you're being honest, it was a little overwhelming. For a moment, you have doubts of why you had gotten on that plane. You shut your eyes and count down from 7. There, your breathing is even, your head’s a little clearer, and you realize that you had a goal to accomplish. You couldn't back out now, you refuse to be stuck in your old ways.

‘Flowers first,’ you think to yourself. 

After a couple of blocks of lugging your suitcase behind you, you find a quaint little flower stand. A young woman and what seem to be her grandfather were the owners of the stall. You stand there, staring at all the options. The young woman approaches you, her hands placed inside the pockets of her green apron, “Hi, do you need help picking something out?” 

“Hi, yes!” you quickly blurt out. “I just wanted a bouquet that would make someone’s day.” You give the woman a meek smile. You recognize the characters on her apron to read Minji.

“Is this for anyone special? Your mom, maybe?” She starts to pull at a couple of arrangements, one bouquet made of mostly carnations. 

You shake your head, “No…” You hesitate as you wondered to yourself, ‘Do I tell her it’s for someone I don’t even know?’ You chuckle at the thought absentmindedly.

Minji takes that to mean something else, “A boy perhaps then?” There's something a little suggestive in her tone, complemented by the raise of her brow in your direction. 

“Oh, no no!” You shake your head for emphasis, furiously denying it. “Absolutely nothing like that.” You find yourself laughing at the predicament. “I’m actually going to give the flowers to a stranger.”

“Oh–” Minji looks pleasantly surprised, “That’s very kind of you. I have just the thing then.” 

You stay in place while Minji goes to the other side of the flower stall to wrap up the bouquet she hand picked. Soon, she comes back and you make an expression of gratitude. “Minji, you really didn’t have to do that! I could have just gotten one of the premade ones.” You pout, looking through the flowers as you take the bouquet from her. It was very simple, three medium sunflowers, some Queen Anne’s lace, and a few branches of baby blue eucalyptus.

“No, don’t worry about it. What was your name again?”

“Y/N”, You give her the appropriate amount of money. 

“Well, Y/N, I hope you brighten someone’s day!” Minji smiles at you and bids you farewell as you turn and leave. 

“Now who do I give this to?” You hold the bouquet in one hand while you pull your luggage, the sound of its wheels on the concrete trailing behind you. 

You stop at an intersection, scanning the crowd for someone that seems approachable. Will it be the middle aged woman holding the hand of a small boy while they cross the street? Maybe it would be the man in a suit that was on the phone, oh he was looking in your direction. He glared at you. 

Okay, so not that guy. 

You were about to give up until you spot a young man, about your age give or take a few, walking in your direction. He was still crossing the street, but he had a certain pep to his step, like he was listening to a really good song in his headphones– which given the fact that he did have headphones on, he probably was. He seems approachable, even down to his outfit: white tee loosely tucked into black jeans a black belt to match his shoes, and gold metal thinly rimmed glasses. 

“Um, excuse me!” You step towards him, holding the bouquet of flowers to your chest at first. 

“Yes?” The man stops in front of you and stretches one side of his headphones away from his ear to hear you better. 

“These are for you.” You extend the sunflowers towards him. 

He looks around, a bit confused, then takes his headphones off fully, letting them hang around his neck. He takes a step towards the side, which you follow, so you’re out of the way of the traffic of people. “F-For me?!” He seems surprised. You can't blame him, you’re a total stranger. He gestures to himself, placing his palm on his chest. “I think you have the wrong guy!” 

You shake your head, the corners of your lips turn up in a slight smile, mostly out of embarrassment. “No, definitely for you”. 

The stranger takes the bouquet in his hand, examining it. “Who put you up to this? Was it Lee Know Hyung?” He looked back at you, raising a brow. 

 “I don’t even know who that is, I promise they’re for you!” 

You notice his shoulders relaxing and he pinches at one of the blue eucalyptus leaves, feeling its texture. “But… why?” 

You also relax and release the breath inside your lungs you didn’t know you were holding. He seems to at least be open to accepting the gift now. “It’s just something I wanted to cross off my bucket list: give a bouquet of flowers to a stranger.” You smile up at him and you hope that the man in front of you can sense how sincere you are and didn’t think you were an absolute lunatic. 

“Well, thanks.” He slowly starts to smile and suddenly his eyes notice your bag and your suitcase. “Oh, are you visiting?” 

You nod your head yes, “I am! I’m actually here because visiting Korea is also on my bucket list!” 

His eyes grow wide, surprised by your seemingly adventurous personality. “You must have come a long way then, your accent is definitely not from around here.” He motions over to a bench a short walk away and the both of you make your way there. 

“I will take that as a compliment.” Momentarily, you check your phone for the time. He must have noticed you doing so, because he motions to get up. 

“Oh no, did I keep you?” 

“Not at all, I’m just realizing what time it is back home.”  

“Oh, you must be jet lagged, do you need help getting to your hotel?” 

“I don’t have to check in until later,” you lie. You don't even have a hotel yet.

Oops.

"Well, in that case...." He seems nervous as he stands up, very subtly back and forth on the tips of his toes to the back of his heels. If that isn't enough, he rubs the back of his neck before he clears his throat and looks down at your sitting form. You look up at him as if you hadn’t been watching him the entire time. “Is grabbing coffee with a stranger on your bucket list too, then?” 

You can't help but smile, a smile that pulled at your lips wide enough that it made the corner of your eyes crinkle. “It’s not, but I’m sure I could add it in.” 

“Great, then I’ll make sure it’s an extra good café with instagrammable latte art!”  He extends out his hand to help you up. 

Once you stand up, you reach for your suitcase, but he beats you to it. Instead, he places the bouquet of flowers into your hands.  “You carry that, and I’ll take these.” He slings your backpack over his shoulder. 

“No, please let me. It’s really no problem for me!” You hold the bouquet of flowers to him, as if it's a trade off. 

“It might be no problem for you, but what about me? You’re gonna slow us down carrying these things and the café spot gets busy in the afternoon!” He starts to walk away, looking back at you with a smirk after a couple of large strides. 

Well, at least the stranger you picked had a sense of humor and wasn’t some asshole who would have rejected the flowers. Snapping out of your thoughts, you realize he really isn't going to wait for you and hurry after him. 

The stranger— you still don't know his name, by the way; you've had no opportunity to ask—wasn’t kidding when he said that the café got busy. You were both lucky to grab a table on the outside of the establishment all thanks to your hovering and his remarkably subtle ability to place your suitcase in the way of other hopeful individuals looking for a seat.  

Your eyes wander around the place, looking for a waiter or waitress to come and take your order. You desperately don't want to be the one to start conversation. You feel a little awkward sitting down with a guy you just met.

“I’m Han Jisung, by the way.” His voice cuts through the clinking of mugs, the soft hum of the people waiting for a table, and the occasional sound of the cars driving past. 

You bring your eyes back to him, a little caught off guard. He smiles in a way that shows the gums and it's kind of cute, while his eyes crinkle into half crescents. You can't help but smile right back at him. “I’m Y/N.”

Jisung leans forward, into the table with his arms crossed. “So, what brings you to Korea, Y/N?” 

You reach for the old beaten notebook in your bag and place it on the table. “I have this bucket list,” you open the pages and start flipping through it. There were a bunch of pages with cursive scrawls in paragraphs, some doodles, and eventually you stop on the page with the bucket list on it. “Just a bunch of things I wanna do before I die…” You give him a lopsided smile. 

Jisung’s eyes look through the list, then he point at one half way down the page. “Well, you can now cross going to Korea off. “ His index finger drags across the page at another item, “And the bouquet one.” 

“You’re right, thanks.” You take a pen from the front pouch of your backpack and cross those off. 

“How long is your visit?” 

You peer up at him, chewing on your bottom lip. He has an innocently curious expression on his face and you can't help but thank whoever's in charge of fate. Jisung is nice and welcoming, which is just what you need in a country you had never been to before. “About two weeks.” 

“Do you plan on doing more of those here?” 

You nod with a smile. “I do! As many as I can anyway.”  Talking to him isn't as awkward as you think it would be. He's definitely to thank for carrying the conversation so naturally.

“Hi can I take yo—“ a young man, probably around Jisung’s age comes to your table with a small notepad in hand. He has medium brown hair pushed back, a wide smile, and kind eyes. He's wearing a pair of khaki slacks and a nicely pressed dress shirt underneath his navy blue apron. “Oh, Hannie! Hey!” 

Jisung stands and pulls the newcomer into a short hug. “Seungmin!” Jisung motions to you at the table. “This is Y/N. A new friend of mine.” 

You smile at Seungmin and stand, bowing your head slightly. “Hi, nice to meet you.” 

Seungmin motions for you both to sit back down after introductions. “Ah, order whatever you guys want, it’s on the house! I hope you guys didn’t wait too long for a table.” 

Jisung shook his head, sitting back down only after you did. “It didn’t take too long, but this place is crowded! You guys must be doing really well lately.” 

Seungmin nodded with a sort of  crooked grin, “Yeah, well ever since those KPOP idols were seen here, this place has been swamped.” He raised his brows up and down mischievously, looking at the both of you together. “We’re looking for help!” 

Jisung scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes. “No thanks. Y/N is just visiting.” He leaned closer to you, as if the next part was only meant to be heard by you, though he was definitely talking loud enough for Seungmin to hear. “Besides, the last time I helped out he yelled at me for eating a pastry.” 

Seungmin playfully hit Jisung’s arm with his notepad. “It wasn’t a pastry, it was your seventh one of the day.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, what will you be ordering?”

You looked around, unsure of what was good there. You wanted to get an idea from what others had ordered around you. Everyone seemed to have an iced drink… and they were all really dark coffees “A vanilla iced latte?” Your sweet tooth would never let you have coffee without some kind of creamer in it. 

Seungmin nodded and scribbled it down. Then, without looking at Jisung, he said, “Americano, iced. And a slice of cheesecake.” 

Jisung feigned a look of offense. “Am I that predictable?” 

Seungmin laughed. “Honestly, no. But your orders are.” Seungmin placed his notepad in his apron pocket and went back into the cafe to fetch your orders. 

“Ah, that was Seungmin. He and I go way back. Now he helps run this place!” 

“That must be difficult, but this place looks great.” 

“Yea, he’s always been a caffeine addict. One day, he decided that if he was going to be making coffee everyday, he might as well make money off of it.” Jisung chuckled to himself, then glanced your way from across the table. “Are you staying close by? I could walk you to your hotel after If you’d like” 

You laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact, “Well.. actually…” your voice trailed off, catching a glimpse at his expression before spitting it out, “I don’t have one… yet.” 

“You don’t have one?!” He had raised his voice slightly, startling a couple of people at nearby tables. 

“Yet! I said yet!” You nervously played with the pen in your hands. 

“You came to Korea without a place to stay!?” 

“I literally bought my tickets two hours before the flight took off!” 

Seungmin came back with your orders, just in time to catch the last bit of your conversation. His eyes widened in shock. 

“TWO HOURS?” Both Jisung and Seungmin echoed you simultaneously. 

You grabbed your iced vanilla latte and started chewing on the straw. “I mean… it probably sounds a lot worse than it is...” 

Seungmin bent down at his knees to rest his arms on the table, head tilted. In that position, he really reminded you of a puppy. “Are you rich?” 

“Umm, definitely not." You placed your free drink on the table and chuckled at the thought.

Jisung raised a brow in your direction, “So you’re broke.”  

You grabbed your phone and checked your bank app. There was a silence that passed, the boys watching you carefully. You exhaled slowly and put your phone on the table, screen down. “Not like broke broke.”

Seungmin stood back up and forcefully put his hands on Jisung’s shoulders from behind him, giving them a squeeze for emphasis, “Well it’s a good thing that Hannie has a spare room, yea?” 

The two of you exchanged looks until he finally said something, “I mean… Yeah… I guess I do.” 

Jisung shot Seungmin a glare as he went back into the cafe then looked back you. You were still staring at him blankly, not saying a word. You were going through the logistics of it all in your head. It would be a free place to stay, but he was a complete stranger. This whole thing was a spontaneous trip, it was supposed to be a way for to come out of your comfortable way of living. You had been complacent, and quite honestly, staying in one place wasn’t going to help your mental health. But neither was staying with a stranger. 

“It’s not like I’m an ax murderer or anything.” 

Your silence was met with Jisung shrugging and grabbing his pastry off the plate in front of him. He broke it up into smaller pieces before stuffing it into his cheeks. He looked a little silly, reminding you of a squirrel with puffed up cheeks. “Or you can find a hotel room with all the money you still have saved up.” 

You were quickly reminded of the lack of money in your bank account. “Okay yea,” you mumbled under your breath, “lead the way.” 

Jisung gave you a short tour of his place. It was on the seventh floor, two bedrooms, one bathroom. A small kitchen with an equally as small island, enough for two people to eat at. He had a black couch facing a TV that was hooked up to a play station, probably the newest one. 

You came out of the bathroom after showering in an over sized gray shirt and navy blue shorts underneath. You were towel drying your hair when you noticed he was at the sink. You sat at the island, his back to you.  “Thanks for letting me stay with you.” 

He seemed busy with something, but he looked over his shoulder at you. “Yea, no problem. Don’t worry about it.” 

Seeing as he was a bit busy, you went into the spare room you were staying in and grabbed your notebook. You decided to bring it back to the island; if you were going to stay with Jisung for at least a couple of days, you were going to get to know him. He definitely seemed and had proven himself nice enough.

“Is that the list again?” Jisung asked you when you sat back down, still focused on whatever it was he was doing. 

“Yeah, it is.” 

“Cool!” He threw something away in the trash under the sink. Whatever it was he was working on, he placed it in the counter next to the sink. 

“What kind of stuff do you think you could cross off?” He turned around and leaned on the island across from you. His head tilted, curious as he looked at you with warm round brown eyes. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. “Let’s see.” You opened up to the page, looking over the list and reading off a few at random.

“Paint a portrait. Sing at a karaoke bar. Fall asleep under the stars. Watch the sun rise—“

“Those are easy! You traveled all the way to korea for that? Where are the fun spontaneous ones?” 

You sighed and ran your hands down your face. “I have those too, but they’re embarrassing!” 

“Try me.” 

You held your head in your hands, looking down at the book to avoid looking at him. “Crash a wedding.” 

“Ooo that sounds fun. What else you got?” 

“I booked a flight to Korea in two hours isn't that spontaneous enough?!” 

He shook his head, still smiling. 

You looked back down. “Goskinnydipping...” You mumbled very quietly and quickly, then cleared your throat trying to glaze over that bit, hoping he didn’t hear. When he didn't react, you continued. “Get a tattoo.” Slowly, you looked at him through your damp hair that fell over your eyes. 

“Okay. Let’s do it.” He smiled at you, mischievous one. 

“Get a tattoo?” You panicked and you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. Had he heard you? 

“Let’s accomplish as many things on your list as we can while you’re here.” 

You looked at him with a brow raised. You didn’t even know what to say. “Like… together?” 

Jisung nodded simply. “Yes. Together. Why not?” 

“More like why? Why would you do that with someone you just met?” 

He mimicked your raised brow, but the smirk remained. “You bought me flowers, remember? We’re basically dating now.” 

Huh? He was joking, right? 

“Just kidding. But come on, think about it! It’ll be fun! Plus… do you know how to get around Seoul?” 

Again, he had a point. 

You bit your lower lip and scanned the room trying to avoid eye contact. It was then you noticed that the thing he was working on was the bouquet of flowers that you bought, stems cut and placed in a tall glass. 

You smiled and finally nodded, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” He looked at you with wide eyes, smirk growing into a smile, excited that you had agreed. 

“Yea. Let’s do this.” 

author's notes: if for whatever you want to be added to a taglist, let me know :)

taglist

@burningchaosdeer

[kastlequill]

ii/v. ‘til my pulse loses time: pulsus bigeminus

pairing: kyle gaz garrick x f!reader word count: 1.4k synopsis: the second time you save gaz tags: whumptober, broken bones, blood and injury, wound tending, hurt/comfort, medic!reader, 4+1, no y/n warnings: war ao3: read here ← prev | next →

II.

The first time you left the base’s vicinity to operate out in the field was under less than ideal circumstances.  

You’d been stitching up a deep laceration across the chest of an infantryman when your radio crackled to life. On the other end of the comms, Captain Price had informed you of his squad’s status after a particularly nasty ambush near a series of steep cliffs not too far off from the medbay. While Sergeant McTavish and that lieutenant had managed to avoid the worst of the damage, one Sergeant Garrick was currently still stuck under several large bits of debris. Before the captain tried pulling him free, he wanted medical personnel to be on standby. 

So here you were, staring at a pile of rubble, wondering just how far below laid the man out of whom you’d dug a bullet some weeks ago. 

“Have you been able to contact him, Captain?” you asked so as to fill the silence with something, anything other than your unrelenting thoughts of paranoia and worst-case scenarios. 

Price nodded, his hands grabbing onto the collar of his tactical vest. “Affirmative. We checked in just before you arrived.”

“Put him on the line.”

The captain unclipped a hand-held radio from his waistband and tossed it your way before turning around to convene with his remaining men. You raised the device to the level of your chin, pressed the button on its side, and spoke.

“Sergeant Garrick,” you greeted, tone clinical and matter-of-fact. “Can you hear me?”

A cough sounded through the static. “Nice to hear a familiar voice, Doc.”

You almost snorted at that; familiarity wasn’t exactly the first word you’d use to describe your professional relationship with the guy. The two of you hadn’t exchanged more than a few acknowledging gestures since that day his comrades dragged him into the clinic. In fact, until this very moment, you’d thought he had forgotten all about the interaction, reducing you to a mere vagueness in his pain-hazed memory.

It appeared, however, that the sergeant remembered plenty enough. While he had managed to stay out of trouble—and thus out of your orbit—during this past string of weeks, the pit in your stomach had never quite left.

Your initial premonition had proven correct. Injured again. Through no fault of his own, yes, but establishing fault was hardly important when it came to life and death.

“How are you faring down there? Try and rank your pain on a scale of one to ten.” While you waited for him to respond, you began to set up your equipment, digging for your stethoscope, for bandages and gauze. Once everything was to your satisfaction, a quick wave of your hand brought Captain Price back to the site, ready to excavate the final member of his team.

“Feels like a bloody mountain of rocks just fell on top o’ me, how ‘bout that?”

Damn soldiers. Always difficult, always stubborn. “A number, Gaz.”

“Between a three and a four,” he relented after a few beats of silence. His voice sounded strained despite his efforts to conceal the truth of his current state. “But no rush, yeah? The quiet’s not so bad.”

You handed the radio back to the captain, with whom you shared a look. Freeing Gaz was your highest priority; there’d be no more delays.

Price signaled for McTavish and the one called Ghost to approach the rubble, and, together, the three of them got to digging. Their gloved hands lifted debris, methodically removing boulders and slabs of earth in a way that would minimize the risk of it all toppling down. It was arduous work, but involving heavier machinery might do more harm than good.

Ten minutes into the unburial, they located him. Pinned beneath stone, in an air pocket—alive. McTavish and Ghost relieved the crushing weight, enabling Price to grab Gaz by the arms and drag him towards an open spot of land. There, he tried to sit upright, eager to become of use, but a single stern if I catch you moving before the medic gives the all clear, I’ll make your arse clean latrines for the next month, hear? from his captain had him stilling.

As you knelt closer to the wounded man, those brown eyes swiveled to meet yours, trapping you with their alert intensity. Dirt was speckled across the bridge of his nose, appearing more like a patch of constellations than grime, and a cut crusted with dried blood ran through his left brow. Dust clung to his lashes, exhaustion deep set in his face, and yet he looked. . .

Good. Too good, considering where he’d been for the last hour. Not the most professional observation, sure, but you were only human.

The longer you maintained eye-contact, the more recognizable the reverence in his stare became to you; it wasn’t uncommon for soldiers who’d been separated from their environment, from their very atmosphere, to view the mortal world as heaven itself once they returned. That same sentiment was now infused into his gaze, shining with wonder, like he had just found the answers to his life-long questions, had just stumbled upon eternal paradise.

The kiss of the wind, the hug of the sunlight, the confession of the birdsong. A utopia; Eden.

“Happy to see the sun, Sergeant?”

A flicker of confusion replaced the awe in his expression, but it was gone so quickly you questioned if it’d even been there in the first place. “Right, the sun, yes, that. Bloody ecstatic.”

Gripping his shoulders, you assisted him in moving from a supine to an upright position, your efforts careful and gradual. The amount of buckles and straps and zippers that constituted his tactical vest were unnecessarily complicated, in your opinion, which made freeing it from his body too damn difficult. After a minute of watching you struggle, Gaz took mercy on you; he brushed aside your unsteady hands, swiftly unclasping the vest and pulling it over his head with a wince.

The motion drew your attention to his face. You assessed his clenched jaw, the pronounced frown line between his brows, the strained muscles and bulging veins in his neck—all physical signs that did not particularly bode well.

“I’m going to check if anything’s broken. Is it alright if I feel my way around?” At his nod, you brought your fingers to his sternum. “This may hurt.”

And so began the routine of poking and prodding and pressing. He inhaled sharply when you touched along his midsection, over his ribs, but he waved off your whispered apology, motioning for you to continue your examination. Even through his clothes, you could discern what felt like misaligned bones, which was to be expected.

You leaned slightly away to retrieve your stethoscope then guided its ends into your ears, wanting to listen to his lungs. Carefully untucking his shirt from the waistband of his cargo pants, you slipped your hand beneath the fabric and rested the auscultatory device against the skin of his back.

“Take a deep breath in for me. Hold it. Then slowly, slowly breathe out.”

Ever the soldier, he heeded your directive, his chest filling with oxygen. No crackling noises, and his respirations sounded regular, so you concluded that he had avoided puncturing a lung. Thankfully.

However, that still left the matter of the tenderness you’d felt in his torso as well as the fractures his ribcage had sustained.

“His ribs,” you diagnosed, withdrawing your hand from his heat, hanging the stethoscope around your neck, then rising to your feet to better address the captain. It unnerved you, the height difference between you and every single one of these men, and you thus had no desire to further add onto that preexisting disparity by staying on the ground. “They’re almost certainly broken, but we’ll do an x-ray to confirm. The good news is that the recovery should be quick and easy. He’ll be field-ready in no time at all.”

Price nodded, and the majority of his concern ebbed away, frown lessening. “But?”

“But.” There’d always be a but in this field. No good could come without being joined by the bad; they were a package deal. “The bad news is he’ll have to visit the medbay at least once a week so I can monitor how it’s healing.”

If you had fully turned around to face him then, you would’ve seen the sly grin that now illuminated his features, the glint that entered his eyes. Alas, you did not, and so his following words caught you off-guard, bringing heat to your cheeks.

“Seems we’ve got awfully different definitions of bad news, love.”

tbc.

[aettuddae]

hole in one — chapter 23.

⌕ synopsis: at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, where everyone is battling to be the center of attention, yu jimin is just a regular. people want her because of her beauty, but all she cares about is sharing her freaky stuff with her friends and passing her subjects. although there's one thing that might push her out of her comfort zone, revenge. when nakamura kazuha, one of the richest and most well-known students of NCU, starts to spread gossip about her for thousands of followers to see, jimin decides to get back by taking away the thing kazuha cares about the most: her perfect girlfriend, the young golf star, kwon haru.

masterlist | prev | next

[written chapter]

"hey." muttered haru after seeing karina.

the girl was panting, making it obvious that she had run to that place. the new girl understood right away, she had already realized it she arrived later than she was supposed to.

"sorry i'm late." she added, interrupting the tension building between the two.

"hey." returned the other's greeting, sketching a shy smile.

up until that moment karina had felt confident, calm, but it all dissipated as soon as the golfer stood in front of her.

she had crossed paths with haru a few times, although she could count them with her fingers. after all, they go to the same university, and there are events that all the students attend. besides that, kwon sometimes showed up at the building where jimin studied to visit her friend giselle. but they never interacted before, let alone with the subplot of an entire plan organized to seduce her. somehow, the athlete's idea and the plan seemed so far away and fictional that she didn't feel a great weight because of them.

until kwon haru became a reality, until she was there personified in front of her, and karina felt the pressure of having to think carefully every interaction they had.

"are you..." she gave a deep sigh before continuing the sentence. "...the girl my girlfriend has been fighting with?" a short, chaste laugh escaped her as she finished, perhaps because of nerves or the ridiculousness she was asking.

"i think that's an accurate description of me." jimin nodded her head, pressing her lips against each other as a gesture of embarrassment. "although it's not so much a fight, it's more just her..."

"yeah, i know." she lowered her gaze, and walked a bit until she found a place where to leave her equipment. "sorry about that, by the way." she picked up a club and turned to karina again. "it's just that she thinks what happened at the party was on purpose, which doesn't justify her reaction, sure, but it's all only because she felt attacked. i swear she's not mean, just..." she stopped her walk next to the girl, taking a breath of air and looking towards the field, thinking what to say next. "hi, i'm haru, it's a pleasure." she looked at her and extended her hand waiting for a shake, not finishing the previous topic.

"yes, i know you're haru. it's a pleasure too." she reciprocated the greeting, finding funny the abrupt change of subject.

"your name is karina, am i correct?" the golfer furrowed her eyebrows as a gesture of curiosity.

"that's me." confirmed, pointing her index finger at herself. "but my name is jimin, actually." she explained.

"okay, jimin-ssi." she gave a smile without showing her teeth, but that was still genuine enough to make her eyes narrow.

it was the first time karina had talked to kwon haru, and although she had the image that the girl's personality wasn't at all like her girlfriend's, in those minutes she had confirmed it. she was kind. something well hidden among her priorities and bad intentions, told the newcomer that this girl didn't deserve to have any harm done to her, but at the same time, she also was relieved at the thought that maybe it wouldn't be such a challenge to flirt with haru.

this is against kazuha, anyway.

"minhyuk spoke to me yesterday, told me he helped some friends get into the club, and that they lied on their applications about knowing how to play golf." the fresh member lowered her head in embarrassment, to which the experienced laughed. "he told me i had to do him the favor of helping him train them, am i right?"

"you are, ma'am." karina brought her hand to her forehead, jokingly giving a military salute, then flashed a cheeky, flirtatious expression to her new acquaintance.

she was there to make her fall in love, after all.

haru looked away restlessly, and swayed from one foot to the other as she scanned the surroundings with her eyes as if there was anything besides grass and holes in the ground.

"everyone lies on applications anyway, don't they?" joked karina as she saw her teacher start to move to fetch some golf balls and arrange everything.

"not in rottary, no." she denied as she was bent over setting up a tee.

"oh." she expressed flustered.

"but it's okay, jimin-ssi." she straightened up and addressed her. "someone had to be the first to do it." tried to reassure her.

karina and haru sat down on the tee box, and the sportswoman took some time to explain the rules of the game, the most common terms and what each item used in the sport was called and what it was for, and also to answer any questions the new girl may have.

the latter listened attentively to every part so as not to detract from practice later. and even though she still found it rather boring, she got a strange thrill from the idea of being good at golf.

"so why did you join the club if you've never played golf before?" questioned the teacher once she finished explaining the system of play.

karina thought carefully about her answer, she couldn't say anything stupid. during the previous days she had been researching things about golf, so she looked through that information to answer the question.

"isn't it easier to play golf when you are a member of a club? you have somewhere to train, an easy way to participate in tournaments, direct access to teachers and coaches." she repeated everything she remembered from that specific google search she had done, 'why is it good to join a golf club?'

"yes, you're right."

"i don't get out of my house much." the girl confessed. "i wanted to do a sport and have a more active life." vile lie. "and everyone at ncu does golf, so it caught my attention." more lies.

"it's a great sport, you won't regret it." assured the one who had been at it for years. "is that why you followed me?"

"what?"

"on instagram."

jimin opened her mouth and expanded her eyes in surprise at the question. she had forgotten she did that, maybe she had voluntarily wiped it from her brain. her cheeks turned red right away.

"of course..." she spoke nervously. "i mean, you're the best at golf, right?" she reached out her arm and gently tapped her closed fist on the girl's arm.

and again, haru began to look around avoiding eye contact, while her cheeks also took on a reddish color.

"okay, now," the trainer stood up and extended her hand to the other girl to help her up. "let's see how bad your swing is."

they approached the tee that the athlete had set up earlier and now she put a ball on top. she looked through her student's unused clubs, picked one up and then passed it to her. she took it with one hand, to which haru moved close enough to her to position it correctly between her hands.

"you're going to put your dominant hand where the grip and the shaft connect." she pointed to the area she was referring to. "you're way up." warned laughing at the inexperienced girl's cluelessness.

haru took karina's hand, gently moving it to the correct position. the apprentice looked up from the object to the face of her teacher, who, at the proximity, this time could not avoid the connection of glances. the blackhaired drew a warm smile on her lips and moved her pupils from the girl's eyes to her lips.

she still hadn't forgotten about the plan.

at this interaction, haru took a breath and turned around on her feet abruptly as she rambled anxiously about the proper way to hold a golf club. when she turned back to face jimin, who was quite stunned at the suddenness with which that moment was cut off, her gaze drifted back and she frowned.

"don't turn around." she warned seriously.

the girl quickly grimaced cheerfully and began waving towards whatever was behind her.

"it's kazuha." she explained through her teeth while she followed her partner with her gaze, who was traveling in a golf cart through the club. "if you turn around we're both going to die." she dramatized without stopping waving.

(!)

— taglist [OPEN]: @runawaymazola

[juyomiao]

Only ONE - sung hanbin x gn!reader

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16 ☆ one punch man

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chapter warnings: yn punches someone 😁 , written part is shit omg , yeji is mean im sorry yeji fans im sorry midzys forgive me , one (1) xanax mention

written part under the cut (~ 836 words)

this is not your proudest moment. listening in on someone's conversation, really?

but the need to know what's going on is stronger than any morals you might have. especially when you don't trust anyone in the student council except yourself. and hanbin, but he isn't being exactly cooperative lately.

"beomgyu, you always knew i liked hanbin. why are you acting like this is surprising in any way?" you aren't exactly a genius at recognizing people by their voice, but you can clearly tell that's yeji.

"are you serious? of course i knew, but that doesn't make anything you did correct! you're trying to ruin someone else's life over your feelings, if it wasn't for yn-"

something is telling you to take out your phone and record this. if you're going to snoop in someone else's business, might as well get a confession from the actual culprit out of it.

"there you go, it's always about yn this, yn that… do any of you ever get tired? if they weren't part of the student council this wouldn't have happened in the first place! it's their fault!"

"it's no one's fault but yours, yeji."

there you have your proof, you mentally - although reluctantly - thank beomgyu.

"see? you're on their side too! you hate them just as much as i do, you should be thankful i'm doing all of this!"

yeji dislikes you. you let the information sink in for what feels like an eternity, of course you knew it was like that the moment you found out she was behind all this, but you assumed it was all over her stupid crush on hanbin. no, hwang yeji just admitted she dislikes you.

you were never exactly desperate to be anyone's friend, or to be liked by everyone you met, but both of those things were never hard for you. or at least, you thought so until today.

your brain tunes out the rest of the conversation, as you silently stand right by the door, your phone still recording 

"y/n?" a voice snaps you out of your thoughts, you blink quickly a couple of times, meeting woobin's eyes. "are you okay?" you nod with a small smile "yeah, i just…"

you hear faint murmuring coming from the room, the silence enough for you to pick up a small 'they're here?' that clearly belongs to yeji.

you sigh, finally stopping the recording on your phone and hiding it deep into your backpack before something happens to it. you might be a bit paranoid, but with what yeji has been able to pull so far you wouldn't be surprised if she went that far to destroy the major evidence in your hands.

"yn!" and with that, she's back to the normal yeji you know, your friend. "hi yeji," you can't lie for shit, and everyone there can clearly tell something is up, not only between you two, but overall. beomgyu is on the verge of speaking and probably spill every single thing he found out about yeji, but you keep talking before he can "I wanted to talk to you, but you left my texts on read. is everything okay?" if she wants to act fake, you can too.

"oh about that…. i'm sorry, i had some issues with my phone and couldn't answer your texts," somehow, that small lie sets you off "you have issues overall."

"what?" you can see beomgyu trying to hold back his laughter, turning around to face the wall with a hand over his mouth. "you heard me. you have a ton of issues, because whatever stupid crush you have on hanbin, or your hatred for me, or anything else, shouldn't push you to do everything you did."

"i don't know what you're talking about, yn,"

"yes you do. want me to get the chats? or maybe i should get them from your phone," yeji rolls her eyes. it's only for a split second, but you can tell the more you corner her the more her mask slips off, and the truth will inevitably be uncovered.

the following minutes are a blur to you. yeji keeps making excuses, saying your accusations are baseless, until something tips her off. you don't know what it is, she probably doesn't know either, but she admits to everything.

she admits to stealing the money, framing hanbin, being behind the anonymous number, spreading the word of hanbin stealing through the whole school.

"he was the one who offered to help me cover it up! he felt bad i had to resort to stealing, so he said he'd take the blame if anyone found out!"

"and you took advantage of this and made sure everyone found out," you point out.

she keeps making excuses, saying anyone would've done the same in her situation - failing to realize not anyone has the morals of a rock - how you 'shouldn't act like you're so much better than her, you've probably done worse' . you don't know what took over you, but that's your last straw and, before you can think it through, you punch her.

☆ note: this was wayyy too late im sorry pookies :( i hated the written part ,, well ! see u with a new chapter in ,, whenever i have wifi again idk

☆ SYNOPSIS: sung hanbin is everyone's dream guy: perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect personality, he has it all. he's even class AND student council president! everyone loves him, and you, as his vice-president, are no exception to that. having been in love with him since you were 12, you try to tone down your feelings "for the sake of professionalism" and claim it's simple admiration for someone who objectively has no flaws. but there is one small detail you missed, in all these years admiring him: he has an even bigger crush on you.

☆ TAGLIST: (italics = couldn't tag) @hananovi @soobeaniee @idkwatodoanymore @huipinkhair @homohoons @sunnyglower @lethalvenus @sunoksunny @tocupid @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @winteringdream @ikeryn @ilovechanhee @thesiriusmap @heelanat @baekstans @blaycke @vernonfernandez @8turning @yeolsbestie @asteroidchenle @hvnyujiq @hikyeom @r4innoms @enhypen-scholarship @sulkygyu @meowrinz @rikimylove @ridinhyuck @lumixen @neohyxn @ceanairy @beomibeom @cherriegyu @sunwcloud @k4hzuhas @annoyingbitch83 @stickersim @dreamyyn @anawesomeaquatic @softforjungwoo @utopiakys @247hrs @sunswoonie @minhui896 @chanhee-hee @nxurxn @peachysohn @kpoprhia @haesunflower

[mimiiis]

El Mar (pt.2) (Namor x Latina!Reader)

(photos are not not mine)

Summary: Namor shows you something you never thought to be possible.

Warnings: All the Mayan used is from a translator, I apologize if anything is wrong. Cursing, mentions of fear, I think that’s abt it tbh !!Not Proofread!!

Series Masterlist. Prev. Next.

Word Count: around 9k

A/n: I am telling yall rn I was stressed the fuck OUT writing this 💀, not much happens but dw its all just leading to somewhere 🥹🙏

Words floated and spun in your head, an elaborate thread of language that you did your best to weave together as you wrote each word that crossed your path in the book before you. You wrote out each one in the English alphabet, translating the syllables you read aloud into a full word you could understand by connecting the pronunciation to its English counterpart. The process was absolutely time consuming, and it worked. Days passed since that night with Namor, and you had only thought of translating and learning the ancient language.

Something about that interaction seemed to have changed everything you had grown accustomed to. The women let you bathe on your own, you were given simple but still very elegant dresses, and they even smiled at you now. They may have been false but the faint welcoming energy made you feel.. happy? The young girl who had been previously frightened of you, now looked in your eyes and gave you a grin that felt like the warmth of the sun you missed.

You did your best to speak to them, writing and translating simple phrases like “how are you?” or “good morning/night” for whenever you saw them. You didn't know if your accent or pronunciation of words was correct, only going off of what you had heard those around you spoke like. Yucatec Mayan was very different from Spanish, though some words were alike. You delighted in glee when you translated a word and saw it was one you were familiar with.

The book you were given, Le Ujo’, was the main occupant of your time. You had only been able to translate a page or two, but even then you were able to make out the story within the papers. It focused around a girl, a girl who was like the moon. Her personality was described as cold but warm to those who saw past it, something about the few paragraphs you were able to read made it remind you of yourself. Her features were described almost identically like yours, you were half convinced it was written about you. But it couldn’t have been right? The pages were crinkled and worn, ink stains and blotches adorned it and so you believe it must’ve been a few decades old.

You did wonder where it came from, if the story was a part of the ancient Mayan culture that the world had long forgotten. If Namor and his people truly were still well preserved in time, they must’ve had a thousand stories to tell. The anticipation to quickly learn the language and demand to be told them all made your heart pound, it kept you going.

Being so busy now gave you less time to wander of the world you’d left behind, the subject still felt like a dagger in your heart when you did. It was only at night when you lay awake, causing a fit and moving every 3 seconds due to the unbearable thoughts of your mind, was when you’d wander back to your family and friends.

You came to think you understood Namors motives in keeping you hidden away here. Why he kept his people safe, their secrets and thriving life. These people were his own family, people he wanted to protect. The risk of a human running to the hills and telling everyone your secrets is not something you’d want to happen to you if you so graciously invited someone into your own home. You were so grateful to witness everything you had, but you still wondered why he hadn’t just left you on the beach. He explained his reasoning but it still irked you, how did he know about the men? About what they wanted to do to you? He said he felt connected to the sea, maybe the ocean called and told him. Maybe he felt what you did in your own bones, connected to that ancient spirit that resides in the depths of the waves.

The strangest thing was that when you thought of him, you felt that longing you always felt when looking at water. To urge to go to him and simply be there took a hold of you each time, it made you burn in either embarrassment or rage. You were unable to tell between the two.The resentment and the part of you that was simply human fought against each other day and night.

You tried not to dwell on that topic, the argument ringing bright and clear in your mind as you still tried to continue with your studies. But as much as you tried, you couldn’t ignore the pounding heart and rapid heating of your cheeks as your mind always managed to drift back into thinking of him.

~~~~

You sat in your chair, back and neck hurting as you craned your head into the book. Your wrist ached as you wrote down each letter without having to look back at the parchment paper made to help you. You managed to memorize each symbol, calculating the letters into place and quickly jotting them down as you got them. You’d make sure you were right when you finished.

The sound of a whistle and the sweet gentle call of your name broke your train of thought, making you shoot your head in its direction. There at the entrance of the room was the young girl, Nikté.

You learned her name when she first saw you reading the mayan book, eyes going wide as she suddenly began to talk frantically. You obviously hadn’t known how to tell her you didn’t know what she was saying, so you resulted in trying to write the word “learning” in her language. She nodded her head immediately after, that smile across her lips as she introduced herself properly at last. From then on, she visited you often, always coming into your room to tell you when food was ready, when the bath water was on its way. Though you mostly communicated by saying one word, it made you feel less alone. As if you had made a friend.

You stretch your arms, holding them above your head as you greet her, “Hola.” Smiles paint both your faces as she makes her way towards you. Her long black hair flowing behind her, the jingle of her jewelry is heard throughout the cavern as she appears in front of you. “Hola.” She replies, politely bowing her head to you.

You didn’t know what time it was, having gotten lost in your studies and skipped the time in which they brought the bath water to you. You stood up from the chair to stand at her height, bowing your own head to her as well as continuing to stretch by bending parts of your body you felt knots in.

Usually, she would sit down after you greeted her. Helping you with word accents and such but today she did not even look at the table.

“P'isib u janal?” You asked, ‘food time?

She shook her head, when she did you noticed the smile on her face. It was wider, happier, lovelier.

“Taal u.” She simply says, reaching her hand towards yours. The cold blue skin greeting your own made you shiver. She intertwined her fingers with yours, giving you a soft squeeze before nodding her head to the direction of the door.

“Taal u.” Come.

~~~

She led you through the halls, still walking hand in hand with you as you suddenly came to a stop before the room you had seen her and the two women weaving your dresses.

“Pa’atik.” She told you, Wait. She let your hand go, going inside of the dimly lit area and leaving you out in the hall.

The faint dripping of water, loud voices, and laughs were the constant noises you heard here. It had become second nature to block them out but you decided to listen to your surroundings as you waited for your friend. The rustle of fabric, the jingle of jewels, and what sounded like a hushed argument came from the place you waited outside of. You fidget with your fingers, wondering what you were even waiting for. The urge to walk back into the room and continue reading consumed your being, and it took everything in your body to stay planted where you were.

A minute or two passed when you were suddenly pulled inside the room. Your heart leaped out your chest and you let out a small scream as you were suddenly sat onto a plush chair in the middle of the room.

Nikté’s eyes greated your own, crinkled by the smile of her face. Her long fingers made their way through your hair, softly beginning to detangle it as you stared at her in confusion. You drifted your gaze as she made her way behind you, trying to take in your surroundings as this was your first time in this room.

You had only ever seen the guards, Nikté, and the two women during your stay here but the sight before you made you realize how you truly didn’t know the strange world you were in.

At least 10 women stood in the crowded space, all handling either jewelry or large amounts of fabric. Shining, glittering, or sheer, the yards of silk flowed off the tables around you and onto the floor like water. They flooded the room, a carpet of colors decorated the floor and your eyes went wide. You’d only ever seen such fabric of high quality in boutiques while shopping for dresses. Where did they even get these from?

You looked at the beautiful patterns and colors before you. White, black, and red colored dresses caught your attention. Each unique and with a personality of their own, all with different skirts and necklines. You wondered who or what they were for, enamored with the intricate details of them all. Patterns of flowers and ocean waves looked to be hand woven into the hems , rising up and up like flames and scattering across the bodice of each.

You couldn’t take your eyes off them, so entranced by their beauty you did not even notice the layering of beads upon your body. Heavy earrings were placed on your ears, pure jade decorated with gold and a matching necklace. The same type of jewelry they would dress you in to present you to Namor. You felt them, but didn’t truly notice until you looked away from those dresses and into a mirror. A large vanity style mirror was hung on the wall before you, you stared at your reflection.

Something about you changed. The last you had seen yourself in the mirror was the first day you were here, you could still feel that small piece in your hands as you flexed them. Back then you were scared, utterly frightened and confused of everything, but now you weren’t. Though still in the dark of several things, like where these beings around you even lived and came from, you seemed happier. The once deep bags of your eyes seemed to have filled out, you carried yourself taller, and the jewelry you once dreaded to see now made your stomach whirl in nervousness.

You were going to see him again. You swore to not think much of it but you kept remembering the book. You didn’t know if he picked out for you personally, but you wondered if he remembered reading about the girl who looked and acted just like you. You wondered if that's why he chose it. He even translated the symbols for you and wrote down their phonetic sounds. You began to think of that night and tending to his wounds. Reminding yourself of those things he said that made your heart skip a beat, stupid stupid man.

The anger you held for him kept you sane, or that’s what you’d like to believe. You didn’t know why you couldn’t stop fidgeting. Your knee bounced up and down, you bit your bottom lip, and you stared blankly at the mirror as you watched Nikté brush and place small pearls in your hair. She hummed softly, the water of her mask swishing with her as she moved her head side to side in the rhythm of the song she sang.

So sweet, so soft. Everything about her reminded you of the sun. The warmth of her voice and smile, the brightness of her eyes and laughs. She reminded you of Adeline. Though your friend on land was rather vulgar and half insane, she could be the nicest person you’d ever known when she wanted to. The sunset on the beach before you came here played through your mind, the way she looked at you with pure joy on her face made your heart ache. You got lost in the memory, going misty eyed before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Terminado.” Finished Nikté says, leaning over your shoulder to whisper it into your ear. You focus your gaze back to the mirror before you.

The front of your hair was covered in pearls appearing to look like a makeshift crown. The tiny beads reminded you of the fresh morning dew that coated the soft petals of flowers on that land you missed, small and delicate. The rest of it was loose and neatly pinned back so it stayed away from your face. All but two strands of hair poked out before your ears to frame your features.

You could almost die at the fact they made you look so pretty to only see him. Gave you such fine accessories and clothes for a man you didn’t even want to care to see. You recalled how he basically admitted he dressed you, the fact he might’ve wanted them to make you look beautiful made the skin on your cheeks burn.

How dare he make you feel this way after keeping you down here? What next, was he going to try to woo you in marriage?

The sudden thought made you burn even hotter, something inside you screamed in either delight or in fear. You couldn’t tell the difference. You quickly shook the thought away, simply looking back at the blue skinned girl behind you and smiling.

~~~~

Anxiety filled your gut as you were led down the now too familiar hall to Namors hut. The seconds felt like minutes as you attempted to work up something to say when you’d see him.

Do you thank him for the book? Pretend as if it meant nothing to you when in fact it meant everything? Do you ask him about the wounds, if they healed? Hell, why did you even care so much about what to say?

So many words, ideas, excuses came to your mind.

You were so captured by them that when you blinked you were suddenly in front of the curtain that separated him from you. There, just behind that flimsy piece of fabric, was the man you tried desperately not to think of day and night.

You felt as if your lungs were going to collapse from the air that had been sucked out. Fear, terror, anxiety, and a thousand more emotions shot through you as you made the decision to finally enter.

He was sitting lazily against the same chair he had sat in during your first meeting. His back was straight but his shoulders were slightly hunched as he held a pen in one hand and a piece of that same parchment paper you had in your room. He looked tense. A stern look rested on his features as he read what was before him.

Gold adorned his neck and shoulders with thick pauldron-like armor that sat atop them. Each layer was extremely detailed, either scaled or sharp edged swirls came together to resemble something that looked to be an ancient painting of a dragon. Hints of lapis lazuli coated the edges as a necklace of gold and shimmering pearls connected the two pieces of armor together, floating across his toned chest. Not a thing out of place. A white and red edged cape hung from him, flowing off and around like those fabrics you'd seen earlier. Smooth and soft like water.

You stared at the figure before you in absolute awe. Again, the only word you could even think of when you saw him was Ethereal.

He still hadn’t noticed you as you continued to take him in. So different from the last time you saw him, that weak and vulnerable air around him was once again powerful and tense. He never exactly told you what he was, you only found out he was a King through the people around you, but he really did look like a God.

You cough, placing your hands behind your back as you call for his attention. You straightened yourself as best as possible, trying to appear as unbothered as you could in the presence of him. Though if he started talking and you heard the voice that rang through your mind and made your knees weak, you didn’t know if it would’ve been possible to keep the act up. .

Namor looks up at you, his eyes scanning your body and face before that smile he always wore when he saw you appears.

He says your name. The thick and gruff accented voice made it sound so perfect, as if it were a piece of art specially made for him and only him to ever say. You braced yourself to feel your knees buckle, but instead the sound soothed you. It caressed a place deep down inside your gut and every tensed nerve inside you calmed. Every bad thought drifted away like smoke in the wind. How strange.

“You know, you never told me your name.” Were his first words to you after that.He lifted from his chair ever so gracefully, the fluid motion of his body drew you in as you stepped further into the room.

“I don’t think you ever asked.”You replied.

“No, I did not.” He chuckles. “It was actually Nikté who told me. It is nice to see you are making friends.” He gently nods his head, greeting you the way he always did.

“Did she now?” You nod your head in return as you stop behind the chair across from his. Your eyes met his, the dark of them swirled with a flurry of emotions. You didn’t look away this time. You didn’t roll your eyes and run away from him like you had before. No, how could you? You made it this far, why turn back now.

“How are your wounds?” You ask him, looking away and taking a seat on the chair in front of you. You grabbed a piece of melón that was gently set in the bowl of fruit on the table, realizing you hadn’t eaten at all this morning.

“Take a look for yourself.”

You look back up and into his direction too eagerly. He begins to pull away the fabric at his sides, the golden skin at his waist peaking out beneath. Smooth, unmarred skin was revealed to you and your eyes went wide.

“What?” You whisper to yourself. “But- that type of injury should have taken weeks to heal. There should be scabs, o-or at least a trace of scars— How did that even heal so quickly!” You question, brows furrowed in confusion as you stare at his waist. Impossible.

He simply laughs at you, hands falling away and the cape back into place. “That is actually the reason I called you here today.”

You looked back up at his face, seeing a playful grin set upon his lips. You lifted a brow, “Called me here? What? Like I’m your pet?”

Silence. The grin was wiped clean off his face, replaced with an emotion you could not quite read. You were going to ask if he was okay, worry spread through you as you realized you might’ve offended him. You considered apologizing for what you said, mouthing opening to say the words until he smiled.

His cheeks curved up until the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the smile lines at his cheeks were on full display. He laughed, practically howling as he held his stomach.

You sank down and embarrassment filled your veins. That laugh would ring throughout your mind later, you knew it. It made your stomach do flips and your heart pound at the sound. He continued to shake with laughter as he set himself back down onto the chair before you. Slowly wiping away small tears that fell onto his skin.

“Pet! That’s funny.” He manages to say in between breaths, eyes open fully and set on you now.

“It wasn’t That funny..” You mumble before biting the fruit in your hands. You chewed as slowly as possible, savoring the bittersweet taste of the melón that soaked in your tongue. Its juice coated your fingers, the slippery texture almost had it falling from your hands.

It tasted like summer. Memories of your mother bringing you fruit after playing with friends on hot days rang through your mind. You did your best to focus on those times, doing and thinking of anything to ignore his gaze on you. It reminded you of why you even let yourself be here, your silly goal of somehow convincing him to let you go back to that life you missed. You won’t let your emotions keep you away from that. Or, at least you’ll try.

He snickered, clicking his tongue as the wide smile stayed. He shook his head as he did, the last few laughs falling away. “No, it was funny.”

You huff, rolling your eyes before taking an even bigger bite of fruit. “So, why am I here?” You ask, mouth half full. Juice spilled from the corner of your lips, seeping out and dripping down onto your chin. The orange colored sap slid down down down, onto your collarbones and the necklace you currently wore. You were too busy looking at him spitefully that you hadn’t noticed he was studying the way it that stuck to your skin.

You were about to say something, something snarky and no doubt stupid when you saw him staring at you. But it quickly faded from your mind as you saw his arm reach up. A strong calloused hand made its way towards your face, holding itself in a cupping position. Your body froze as you stared at the person it belonged to. His eyes were intense, set on not your own but rather your lips. His hand reached your face, cupping your chin softly. Much softer than anyone has ever held you. His thumb swiped across the corners of your lip, wiping away the stickiness on your chin with it as well.

“You are here because I have decided I need to show you something. A way of saying thank you for the other night.” Namor replies, his eyes slowly studying your face. You felt flushed as you watched him, your fingers dug deeper into the piece of fruit you held. The soft unbruised melón was now intended by your fingers, a darker orange where you held it than the rest of its untouched counterparts. He continued to hold your face a few seconds more, the warmth of him made you want to nuzzle into it. It took everything to resist.

Chills went down your spine, goosebumps spread across your skin when he gently brushed it away. Your mind was blank, everything you ever thought of was gone, it only focused on the lingering warmth on your cheek. His presence seemed to do that to you. Like if your mind was a compass and he was north.

You stared blankly at him, the unexpected action left you going crazy. Feelings bubbled in your gut, thoughts you didn’t even want to have about him all rushed and played in your mind.

God! What was he going to show you? Surely it wasn’t anything like.. that.. right?? This is only your third real conversation!

You tensed, blinking slowly as you finally gulped down the chewed fruit in your mouth. You forced yourself to breathe, slowly and steady.

His lips began to move, he was saying something. But you didn’t hear. Your ears rang as you slowly tried to pick up the scattered parts of your brain and put them back into place.

“Huh?” You managed to force out when you noticed that he was finished. Not having heard a single thing.

Whatever he said must have been very important because he suddenly stood. The action startled you, jumping slightly at it.

“I said to follow me. I need to show you something.” He says calmly, as if what he had done to do had no effect on him whatsoever. Well, why would it? He definitely knew what he was doing. Bastard.

“Oh okay.” You mumble in response, your voice faint as your eyes follow him. His strong back was turned to you as he walked out the hut, he didn’t even wait to hear your response. He was gone and you were left staring at the gentle swaying of the curtain before you.

You softly cursed him before taking the final bite of fruit in your hands. He really was going to be the death of you.

~~~~

“That’s absolutely hideous.” You say, voice painted in disgust.

A big metal suit stood before you. It was made of chunky metal, covered in wires and lamps and a large oxygen tank. Not only that but it was quite wide. No doubt that it had many layers residing inside of it, most likely designed to protect the person who wore it. It was rounded at the edges with a thick type of plexiglass helmet resting upon its top. It reminded you of a high tech space suit, the white paint of it like those you’d seen in movies.

“Ah, so now is when you care about something being attractive.” Namor says. You can’t see him but you could tell he had a shit eating grin on his face. You shook your head before turning to look at him. You glared, showing no amusement at his response.

You both stood outside his hut, near the body of water that surrounded the rocks of the cave. The glowing pools made the suit look blue, reflecting the light that showed upon it. You both were covered in the royal colors as well, the soft glow lit his eyes in a way that looked like they were swimming with stars. Though the shadows on his face made him look more menacing, his sculpted sharp features were more intense. The complete opposite to the softness of his eyes.

“What’s it even for?” You ask, tilting your head back to the strange thing before you. You tried to examine it even farther, attempting to figure out its intended use but instead more questions popped up inside your mind.

Where did it come from? Who made it? Why was it here? Where did they even keep it?

You placed a hand on the cold metal, smooth and slick. The suit looked new, as if no one had even dared touch it before you did.

“Deep sea exploration.” The male behind you says.

“Deep sea- what?” Your eyes went wide as you whipped your head to him. He chuckles, gently making his way towards you and the suit.

“I need you to get in it. Only if you want to see what I have to show you.” He sounded so calm, as if that request wasn’t something incredibly bizarre. You stared at him in disbelief. Your brows furrowed and you wanted to call him crazy.

“What would you have to show me that requires a deep sea exploration suit anyways?” You ask instead, emphasizing the words he used.

He gave you a sly look, mischief swirled in his eyes and smiled before looking away from you. “It’s not something I can really say, only show.”

You roll your eyes at him, sighing before backing up to take in the suit's entirety once more. You grimaced as you felt a tinge of fear inside you, it sent a chill down your back. You can’t imagine where he wants to take you in that. But, if his people lived in water, if they thrived there then, maybe… maybe you could trust him with this. He saved you once, let you heal him besides his protests, gave you a book you couldn’t be more grateful for. You had few reasons to trust him, but something told you they were a part of something grander than you knew.

‘Trust him..’ That call inside you roared at you.

If anything were to go wrong, he’d be there.

He’d be there, the words rang through your mind. They put you at ease, and you grabbed a hold onto that.

“I mean I guess but..” You begin. Even though calm soothed your mind, just agreeing to get in the suit made your bones cry out. Fear and excitement whirled inside of you, it made you want to crawl out of your skin and run from the leering unknown of what he was to show you.

You can trust him..’ You repeat to yourself, to your crying nerves as you turn to look at him.

“How am I going to get in?”

~~~~

The suit was not as heavy as you thought. Though hard to navigate in, the small light that it illuminated gave you a tiny sense of security in the dark of the ocean.

Namor helped you in, giving you a small lift as you climbed inside. Though he first insisted on flying you up, grabbing your waist before you began to protest. You trashed and pounded at his chest, demanding that he let you go, he merely laughed before bending his knee for you to step on.

You asked what he was going to wear, if you really were going to such a place where something of this sort was required surely he needed one too. He simply said “You’ll see.”

That was when you learned he could breathe underwater. You stared in shock as he led your metal arm through underwater caves, smiling and talking as if the fact he could do so was absolutely nothing.

You tried not to think about it, that night he saved you, but began to think you should have. You never acknowledged how he did it, the fact he simply had was enough for you. Though this would never have crossed your mind. You supposed it made sense, he was a King— a God—, to his people who could do the same. But even then it still puzzled you, they had blue skin and he did not. They had gills, he did not. His ears were pointed, theirs weren’t. He even had wings on his feet, hell. But perhaps it was seeing him in his natural habitat that surprised you. You’d only ever seen his people, never him.

There may have been a millisecond where you thought you understood him though, what he was. But in fact, you knew nothing even when you felt as if you knew everything. And maybe you did, maybe you just needed reassurance.Maybe you just needed him to say the words himself, to tell you. To soothe you. Because the way he spoke, the way words slid off his tongue and into your soul, made you feel as if a piece inside of you was missing. And his presence was the place they resided, so whenever you were near you felt whole. You felt as if you were home, as if you could trust him. Despite every nerve in your body and thought in your mind, the piece that called you to him was stronger than any force.

Even when the cold and incredible dark of the water surrounded you, even as it still sent a disgusting wave of fear over you, looking at him made all those feelings wash away. You did nothing but watch him lead you down into the depths the entire time. You watched him swim so gracefully it put the gentle swaying of the seaweed to shame.

You didn’t know how long the journey to your destination was, you didn’t even know where you were going. Only following Namor’s lead, you waited and waited to come to a stop. To see something that would indicate something was near.

You were about to ask, where he was leading you, how far and deep in the ocean were you going. That was until the gentle glow of blue lights illuminated him and your view. You watched his smile light up.

He swam faster, leaving you trailing behind as he seemed to perch atop something that looked like a building. You were going to cry out, tell him to come back but the water seemed to push you into his direction. You were beginning to drift away, the control of the suit slipping from you as fear took over once again. But he caught you, gently grabbing your hand before turning you around to see what he had been admiring.

What you saw then made everything come into place. You were so thankful for those fragments of culture that I saw in the cave, believing that was all he had to hide. But this… you now finally understood why he’s kept you there. If you even muttered a word about the cave, what you’d seen, someone might have come looking. Might have found this, you could never do that to them. No this… this was something pure, untouched and different from the world you knew. You would have given every life you could live if it meant to have seen this only once.

He called your name, but you couldn’t look away. A smile began to make its way onto your face, pure utter joy and wonder exploded inside your chest. It filled you, the cold around you seemed to fade and every worry was gone.

“Welcome to Talokan”

It was a city, an underwater city. Ancient mesoamerican architecture sprouted from every inch of the rocky walls and earth, carved carefully and beautifully. They were everywhere, on the seafloor and above. Round, squared, or sharp edged, those buildings covered every inch before you. Large natural plants decorated the surface of them, glowing in a natural blue light that seemed to come from their veins. Weeds swayed with the motions of the water, dancing to the harmonies of life around it. Fish and jellyfish carried that same blue glow as the plants. They floated like beautiful balls of light around you.

A grand pyramid was in the middle of it all, dyed red with hints of green. It loomed and towered over the city. But instead of being separated from everything else, it welcomed the surroundings. United rather than apart, it seemed to compliment the buildings around it rather than the other way around. It spread out, the structures bordering it were parts of it. You couldn’t tell where it ended and the rest started.

That was not the centerpiece though. No, how could it be?

It was the giant, beautiful ball of glowing light.

Huge and brighter than anything you’ve ever seen, it looked like the sun. Its light bounced off every surface, illuminating what you saw now. The glow filled your soul, your heart. That call you always felt when looking towards the ocean, it thrived there.

You hadn’t noticed the whales until one passed over you. A giant, beautiful creature whose song echoed around the walls of the city. So grand, so amazing. You’d never seen one so close.

Though there was something strange about it, you looked closely thinking that the spots scattered across their skin were abnormally large barnacles, but how wrong you were.

It was people. People who rode and grasped the back of those large magnificent creatures. People who could breathe underwater and had gills as well.

You hadn’t exactly caught a good glimpse of what they looked like in water, only having seen them as blurs in the shallow pools of the cave. But you saw now. They looked like any other person on land. Tan, pale, or dark skinned, they looked so human.

Maybe they once were, maybe their ancestors felt the gentle kiss of the sun on the land above. The feel of air filling their lungs and the crisp scent of spring flowers. You wondered what happened for them to end up here.

You once yearned for the water, for what resided in the depths of the unknown expanse. Being here made you think this was it. That this was the place that called and called you every time you set foot on the shore. Was this truly it?

You began to think the pressure of the water was getting to you, that the suit would give in and you’d suddenly wake up in that small hammock of your room. But no, this was real. You grasped the hand that held yours, grounding yourself as you felt like you were floating in absolute bliss.

He called your name again, so smooth and gentle even in the ripples of sound underwater. You responded this time, having to look away before your heart exploded out of your chest.

“Would you like to see more?”

“Yes.” You replied quickly and breathlessly, nodding your head. Tears fell on your cheeks, ones you didn’t even know had formed in the first place.

Namor saw them and gripped your hand tighter. The gentleness of his eyes spread to his face, a soft genuine smile appeared. Real. No sign or hint of wit or mischief. That tense look he constantly wore was gone, vanished like it had the night he was wounded. But it wasn’t vulnerability that took over, it was something you couldn’t quite place.

A longing inside you grew as you tried to figure it out. It consumed your soul and being as you looked at him. Then it clicked.

Fondness, that was it.

You’d been here no longer than a minute but you knew what you were to see would change every emotion you had towards him. Every sliver of stubbornness and anger melted away with that look he gave, gone never to return. It is so easy for humans to surrender to their emotions, so easily influenced by other memories. At least you can say you tried.

You looked back to the world before you, taking a small leap in the water. Soon after he led you further by the hand, beginning his swim once more.

~~~

There was no excuse you could make up to go back to the life you knew before this. Not a single thought or idea could compare to what he just showed you. Why would you even want to leave after experiencing that? Namor showed you the secrets of his world. How unfair and ungrateful would you have to be to deny what he offered you. It was all you wanted and more, a life in the ocean. To be with the water forever.

You believe that if he had shown you Talokan when you first arrived, if he had been honest about what he wants to protect instead of just saying you need to stay with him, you would have said yes without a second thought.

Your blood sang along with the song of the people you heard down there. That ancient voice that kept you awake for years and years came from Talokan. That was it’s home, you knew this now.

You recalled the city and its heart. That giant ball of light made of vibranium, he had explained to you.

“It brought the sun to my people.”

His people. People who lived and thrived in that ancient and forgotten world. You saw children and adults go about their day. All laughing, smiling, trading goods, or playing sports. It was no different than the land above, they were just like any other society. They had their love, lives, people to protect.

You marveled at it even now, seeing beings with gills and swimming skills that would put those who trained their whole lives to shame.

They greeted you and Namor like old friends, wide grins on each of their faces. They weren’t afraid of you, no. They went up to you, bowing and placing their left wrist upon their right, a salute of some sorts to their king before coming and gently touching your suit. They examined you as you did them, not a hint of malice or disgust in their faces. But rather joy and wonder, you tried to listen to what they told you. Syllables and words you didn't know or understand crowded your ears as when all began to talk at once. You tried your best to keep up, but you only understood the few words Nikté had said to you.

Regardless, they all looked so happy. So free.

In a world where all the rules from that up above never existed you begin to fantasize living there.

As yourself, as the person you always wanted to be. Unbound from the shackles of expectations from family and friends. All that you would get judged for around from those on the surface, your gut told you that they never would down in the ocean below.

But, you had family and friends like they did. You had people who missed you, who worried and cared. What would happen if one of those smiling beings you saw had been in the same situation as you? You’d want them to come back home. Why would you keep them away from everything they’ve known?

It had been a few minutes since you returned to the cave with Namor. You sat at the edge of the rocky floor, feet dipped into the water below. He sat next to you, covered in the cape he had previously worn now acting as a towel.

No words had been exchanged since he had told you it was time to come back. Your mind was still in that city, so was your heart. You kept your eyes closed, burning everything you had seen into your mind. Like the amber which once encased the bones of the past, like the way these people upheld and cherished their undiscovered lives.

You kicked your legs back and forth, the splish splash of the water filling the silence of the cave. You hummed to yourself, that same song Nikté sang earlier.

“I know that melody.” Namor suddenly spoke, voice no louder than a whisper. You turn your head to him, only to see he was already looking at you. He was so close, his shoulders nearly touching your own. His hand almost overlapped your own as well, his pinky looked as if it was reaching for your own.

You give him a smile, “Nikté said it was called K’iino’. That means sun right? Was- Is it about the vibranium sun?” You ask.

He nods, a smile grows on his own face at your words. You nod in return. Silence spread throughout the cave again.

You tensed, body stiff from containing all the questions building inside you. You did your best to not say anything, not wanting to pry at him and his reasoning. But you needed to hear him talk, to feel that warmth his voice brought throughout your body. You needed to know, to know why he showed you such a secret. He told you himself, he could not risk his people being compromised.

“Why did you show me Talokan? I don’t— I would have been fine in the cave you didn’t need to show me. I’m just a human from land. I highly doubt I have the right to be shown such a thing-“ The words you had been holding in finally burst, flowing freely before he cut you off.

“Why do you think I gave you the book?” He says.

You quieted. Why did he give you the book?

You blinked at him, mouth in an O shape as you considered the question. You’ve thought about it of course, but never came to a conclusion. Your mind would mostly drift off when thinking about him, about the girl in the book. You never tried to understand exactly why he gave it to you. You assumed it was for you to simply learn the language, obviously that was not just it.

He saw you pause, his brows furrowed and a troubled look flashed upon his face. He shook his head immediately after, brushing away whatever he had been thinking of. Namor finally looked back into your eyes, a flame burning bright in them as he stared intently.

“You had the right to know. I don’t want you to think that I am keeping you here as a prisoner. I don’t want you to feel like one. You are allowed to do what you like, what you please. I gave you the book so…” He paused, trying to find the right words to say. “If you read the whole thing, I had a feeling you would be able to understand why I am keeping you here. If I showed you Talokan, you’d understand even better. I needed you to see what I have to protect, what I am protecting. And that I could protect you too.”

A wave of emotions was sent over you as he spoke those last few words.

Protect you too.

But what was he protecting you from? You weren’t Talokanil, you had been exposed to the world above. You’d lived in it, you came from it. You were born from the dirt and ash unlike those he called his people. You thought of your own people actually.

How similar the lives of both civilizations live. How a mother or father of someone might go so far as to protect their children. Talokan was his, he was their King. Their God. But you had a mother of your own too, a father. Siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles who you know would worry for you as much as he would for a single one of them.

“What would you do if one of your own people got stolen? If the person who held them locked them away where you have no chance of finding them. what would you do?” You ask.

“I’d tear the world apart to find them.”

“And what is to say my family won’t do the same for me?”

He froze, the burning in his eyes stopped. A cold seized over him as he looked stunned. For just a split second, sadness flashed against those brown orbs and you didn't look away.

He said your name, softly and gently. It almost broke your heart to hear him say it. “You want to leave? After I showed you-“

You cut him off, “No! Never, I could not do that to you. To Nikté, to all those people down there. I would never.” You explain. “I just..I simply ask for a week on the surface every month. On land, I have no doubt people are looking for me. I just— I need to let them know I am safe. That I am cared for. I will not tell them anything about you or what I know. I just don’t want them to think I ran away forever.”

Namor tenses and he backs away from you. The close proximity you once shared now distanced. He sighs heavily, throwing his head back. He’s thinking, the lids of his eyes twitching as he knits his brows.

You bite your lip, fidgeting with your fingers as you anxiously wait for his response. The silence between you two is drawn out, the sound of your mingled breathing filling your ears. You do nothing but look at him, study him.

His jaw is clenched, tight and firm. It was so sharp and pointed. Perfectly complimenting his ears. He really was beautiful.

You considered telling him to forget your offer, that you’d be fine without it and quickly storm back to your room. Until he lifted his head, rolling it around his shoulders as a faint crack came from the tensed area.

He sighs again,”One day.”

“What?”

“One day, every month.”

You stare at him again, seems to be the only thing you can do around him. It took a few seconds for the words to truly process into your mind.

“Five days.” You respond, one day was absolutely nothing.

“One.”

“Four!”

He gave you a long look. Something told you he didn’t want to fight. And neither did you. You huff, glaring at him and slightly pouting.

“Three. Three days.” Namor says, voice gruff and somewhat defeated.

Three days. Three was good, right? Longer than one, shorter than a week. It was enough time for a weekend, a weekend with your family every month. Enough time to feel the real warmth and heat of the sun upon your skin. Enough time to feel the grass and dirt to last you until the next month.

“Fine.” You agree. You open your arms to stretch your own tense muscles. You could still feel the weight of the suit on your shoulders, the way it moved in the water.

A yawn escaped you, eyes suddenly growing heavy as you turn back to Namor. He never stopped looking away from you, that soft look from before was there. So gentle, so sweet.

He looked so happy in his city, with everyone. Though you cannot say you truly know him, a piece inside of you did. And it scared you, just how at ease he made he feel. You thought of today, of what he had shown you and how he looked at you. You could still feel his hand on your cheek. Though only the ghost of it, it was still there. Has it always been there?

“You’re tired.” He says, his voice like a lullaby. Sleep called you, he was its companion. That warmth and comfort he brought you doubled now in your drowsy state.

“Mhmm.” You hum in agreement, nodding as well. Your eyes looked down, upon the expanse of him. His tanned skin, the muscles of his body. Giddy feelings swelled inside you, heat grew in your cheeks as they drifted to his left abdomen.

No wound. No scars.You had forgotten about that, when it was the entire reason he even showed you his home.

“You never told me how you healed so quickly..” You begin, eyes looking back up to him. But the second you did, Namor had begun to move.

He swiftly stood up, leaving you staring at his knees. More strong muscles in your line of vision. You could drool.

“That.. Is a story for another time. You must sleep.” He tells you, reaching his hand out to you.

The golden cuffs on his wrist shone in the soft cave light. Glinting and glimmering, you grabbed it. His rough skin welcomed yours, and it almost burned to touch him.

He pulled, a low grunt leaving your lips as you hauled your tired self up. It still felt like you were in the water., arms and knees growing weak at the sudden weight of gravity. You went at the sudden change of position, steadying yourself by squeezing his hand. He squeezed back.

The action had you burning even hotter, rushing to look back into his eyes. Something, anything to ground yourself. To let you know this was real.

And it was. That look in his eyes didn't change, it didn’t waver not one bit. It made warmth spread across your chest. You wanted to hold onto it a bit longer, to never let go of the hand that held yours. But he did.

His hand left yours, leaving a brush of emptiness against it. You almost felt sad, until you saw it come into your line of vision.

He cupped your face as he had earlier. Your body came back to life at it, every ounce of sleep left as he pressed against you.

You could melt in his hands. Your heart pounded in your ears at the flame of his touch. You wanted to speak, to say something. Anything to not let the moment pass and keep it going. You could stay here forever.

But nothing came out, not even a whisper or gasp left you as you opened your mouth to him. You just stared as you had before.

“Rest.” He tells you. “We will talk tomorrow.”

No. You wanted to say.

Now, I want to talk now. I don’t want to leave , not right now.

But sleep washed over you as he pulled his hand away. You clung onto the remanentes of warmth on your cheek. Your tired to fight the sleep that overtook you, but it was too much. You eyes were closing, you couldn’t even think straight.

So you simply nodded, bowing slightly before sluggishly heading back to your room.

~~~

Nikté pulled each pearl from your hair, combing her long fingers carefully through every strand. She massaged your scalp as you kept your eyes closed. She continued humming her song, you almost fell asleep right there.

She kept going, the melody of her voice slowly send you drifting off in the chair of your room. The bed was so close, you wanted to tell her to leave you. To drift off into the world you saw each time you closed your eyes. But you don’t think you would’ve even have enough strength to lift yourself up. To wrap yourself in the blankets waiting for you.

You just knew you needed to go back, to Talokan and to him. Only in your dreams will you find them, and that was enough for you at that moment.

You couldn’t wait any longer, finally giving into the darkness. Knowing you’d be happy to greet what awaited you, you finally slipped into the unknown. Hoping to dream about the sea. The ocean.

El mar.

Taglist:

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Thank you for reading <\3!! Comments and reblogs are v much appreciated! If you have any insights please leave them kindly!!

A/n: also im like extremely sorry if the ending isn’t the best i’ve been busy with school and family 😭😭 but ill be on break soon which will give me time to come back and fix this (hopefully!!)

[katherinezeetajones]

Core

Summary: you've been together with Andy for almost a year, but when your toxic ex comes to Seattle looking for you, who knows what Andy could do?

Andy Herrera x f reader, depicted violence and emotional abuse, mature audiences only

Prev. Parts can be seen in this mega list

You've been together with Andy for almost a year. You've been working at station 19 roughly around the same time, and you couldn't be happier. Everybody enjoys your company as you enjoyed theirs, they shared their secrets as you've learned to share yours. Andy opened her heart to you, and you to her.

Neither of you have said the L word to each other yet... But you know you have been feeling it for quite some time for Andy, and you want to say it out loud, proclaim it from the rooftops, sing it to Andy, the list goes on.

But it's not gonna be today. Your heart drops at the sound of her voice over the phone call, beguiling and disarming—everything you've tried to run away from when you transferred away to Seattle.

Your ex girlfriend, Bonnie.

"baby, listen to me. I'm in town, and I want to meet up. Just hang out, y'know?" Her voice crackles over the line, luring you with her intoxicating allure, though now you feel that she's toxic, more than anything.

"that will never happen. Who gave you my number?" You pinch your eyebrows, trying to keep your voice even as you look for a hidden corner in the barn to continue talking.

She's quiet for a while, and you can feel it. Bonnie is pissed, but she hides it with a sweet voice, like so; "I have my ways, baby. I know where you work, I'll drop by and say hi soon,"

You hang up without saying anything, shoving your phone into your pants pocket a little too roughly. you sit in the back of an open aid car, hands on your head.

"is... Everything okay?" A voice calls out from behind you.

You immediately whip your head around to see Andy, in the middle of restocking the medical supplies. You compose yourself, shaking your head a little too vigorously to be believable. "It's, it's all good, Andy, I..."

Andy gives you a concerned smile, and she immediately put her task aside, sitting down next to you. She gently squeezes your thigh, making you sigh. "No, no... You promised me that you will be honest with me, remember? We can be honest with each other, so tell me,"

You look into her eyes, your whole being reflected in them, and you hate it. You hate being vulnerable, you literally became a firefighter a decade ago so you don't have to do all the touchy feely stuff. But you love Andy, and you promised her. So you sigh. "I... My ex is in town,"

"is that the problem?" Andy asks, a little confused. She knows you well enough not to be miffed, and instead asks you with curiosity.

You shake your head... And sigh. "yes and no. Bonnie was... I guess, still is, in a way, toxic,"

"toxic how?" Andy follows up, taking your hand in hers, her warmth making you feel like you're on fire, yet completely okay.

"like... She was so controlling, I... I met her when I was 16, and she was... 23," and now that you say it out loud, you wince to yourself, wondering why you ever let yourself date Bonnie.

Andy's eyebrows raise, and she takes a deep breath. "Okay... Not a good start of the story..."

You nod, if not a little pained at having to tell Andy one of the lowest points of your life. "I thought she was the one, y'know? She... Made me feel special, treated me like I'm a grown up, we... we got into so much trouble together, and I was feeling weightless in the middle of it all, like I'm flying in the clouds... I thought I loved her, but it turns out she... What's the word, she was... Uh, brushing—"

"grooming," Andy corrects you, smiling a little at your mishap. You can't help but smile at how easy it is for her to know your thoughts, for better or worse. "And then what?"

"and yeah, she was... Grooming me to be her child bride or something... So I gathered the courage to uh, to move to a new city, applied to be a firefighter, and... Here I am, ten years after," you shrug, not really knowing what else to say about the matter.

Andy looks at you with nothing but affection in her eyes, and it only solidified after your story. She takes your intertwined hands and put it up to her chest, keeping it there. "I'm glad you're here, with me,"

"me too," you purse your lips, leaning your head on her shoulder.

"...did she hit you?" Andy asks, with a quieter volume... But a louder emotion she can't quite place.

You shake your head. "No, never... But she was always making me feel terrible when I couldn't spend time with her, like I always have to be available to her... I skipped so much school because of that,"

You can feel Andy's muscles tensing from her shoulder you're leaning on, and she huffs out a grunt. "Don't tell me you're going to meet her,"

You laugh, almost a little offended. "Fuck no,"

Andy relaxes a little, but she doesn't let go of your hand. "I'm... sorry, I... I hate the idea of you seeing her again,"

You grin to yourself, sheepish from Andy's protectiveness. "I won't," you look up to her, giving her a peck on the lips—which she welcomes.

"Engine 19, aid car 19, requested to..." The alarm sounds out the rest, and you two reluctantly part, getting ready for the call.

—

Later that afternoon... it's an empty station, save for Travis in the barn, mopping the floor from grease. Nobody is manning the receptionist desk, and a woman walks in.

Travis looks to the source of the sound, and he makes his way to the front. He greets the nondescript looking woman, who's looking at the pictures of station 19 crew smiling with kids on the bulletin board. "Hi, can I help you, ma'am?"

She turns around, smiling disarmingly. "not at all... I'm looking for..." She looks at the pictures, pointing at a person smiling next to Andy, and points at her. "For her? Is she in today? I have something I needed to talk about with her,"

Travis shakes his head no. "No, sorry... She's out on a call. But maybe, if you want I can deliver your message to her...?"

The woman shakes her head no, with a devastatingly charming smile. "No, it's okay. I'll come back later, thank you,"

Travis nods with a courteous smile, then goes back to the barn, resuming his mopping.

After seeing Travis gone, the woman looks around again, and seeing as nobody else is present, she takes the picture she was pointing at earlier, off the bulletin board.

She leaves the station with a memento.

—

You and 19 finished the call, nothing you can't handle together. You walk with Andy back to the aid car, as you're on driving duty. Andy nudges your shoulder with a cheeky smile.

"so... You wanna fool around in the aid car for a bit?" She asks, giving you a sly expression.

You bite your lower lip...

"yeah," you said easily, amused yourself by how Andy is 90% of your impulse control but also the cause of your impulses.

She speeds off to the aid car, leaving you in the dust. She beckons you to speed up, which you do with a small smile.

-

You're kissing Andy in the back of the aid car (with the doors closed), straddling her lap as she cradles your face in her hands, your hands all over her back, and your clothes are starting to feel really bothersome.

"rookie... You want...?" Andy asks, panting inbetween kissing you, her hand at the buckle of your belt all of a sudden.

You groan. "No... Andy, remember the last time we did that...? We got caught and was turned into a meme in the group chat,"

Andy chuckles, but she doesn't let go of your hips, as you're still sitting on her lap. "The memes were funny,"

You give her a look.

She sighs. "Fine... Let's stick to just making out then,"

You comply without a second's hesitation.

—

In the evening, as the engines and aid cars park back inside the barn, A shift is getting ready to go home for the day. You're just about finished taking the last of your things out of the locker when you feel a hand wrapping around your hips, making you instinctively grin.

"Andy, stop..." You turn around with a cheeky smile, and rightly so, Andy is biting her lip, pulling your hips flush with hers in the middle of the empty locker area.

"wanna grab dinner at our usual food truck?" She asks, giving you a conspiratorial smile.

You sigh a small smile. "We can just call it by its name, y'know. nobody's around,"

"you don't know that, rookie. They have ears everywhere, and I want to gatekeep the food to ourselves,"

You caress her cheek with one hand, amused at her immaturity you only recently discovered her having. "You make a good point. But... I need to go to the self storage tonight, finally found a buyer for the couch,"

Andy nods, if not a little disappointed. "Right. That's $150 for me, $30 for you, right?"

You scoff in disbelief. "Oh, and when did we come up with that agreement?"

She shrugs with a devious grin. "Last night at my place, after... I don't know, the fifth round?"

You let out an involuntary laugh. "That doesn't count, that was post-orgasm talking—"

"what are you lovebirds talking about?" Vic suddenly comes into the locker area, a knowing smile on her face as she takes her fine toothed comb out of her duffle bag.

Andy doesn't let go of your hips, but her grip slacken. "Just sex stuff,"

Vic nods without much thought. "Huh, y'know, at first you two were such a hot topic when we all first found out, but now you're just overwhelming us with your PDA that it becomes boring,"

You protest. "Hey. We're not boring,"

Andy shrugs. "We kind of are,"

Vic laughs on her way out. "When's the wedding?"

She leaves the question to die in the air, making you both swallow the sentiment without talking about it.

"right, I gotta go," you remember your couch situation, and Andy lets you go. You give Andy a quick kiss on the lips, and she hugs you goodbye.

—

You enter the self storage space in downtown Seattle, a good twenty minute drive away from the station. You wave the manager lazily sitting behind the counter, who doesn't acknowledge your arrival other than giving you a grunt.

After walking a bit, you stand in front of your storage space, fish your keys out from your bag, but you accidentally fumbled and dropped it.

"still clumsy like the old days," a voice dryly chuckles, alarming you.

You whip your head around, begging to the gods that it's not who you think it is.

It's who you think it is.

It's Bonnie, your ex, in the flesh.

She gives you a charming smile, but it quickly drops, and as it drops—you feel something heavy hitting you on the side of your temples...

And everything goes dark.

—

You don't know how much time has passed. Everything in your vision is spinning as you slowly come to, though you're slowly starting to be able to focus on what you're looking at.

"Bonnie," you sit up groggily on the ground, clutching the side of your temple and feel something wet. Blood.

Bonnie sits on the couch you're trying to sell, and now you realize she's locked you both inside your storage room. She looks at you with nothing but calm on her face, but you know she's never calm. "I tried looking for you earlier at station 19, but that sweet freckled guy told me you were out on a call,"

You sit up, fully come to, head throbbing and your heart pounding a mile a minute. "So you followed me,"

She shrugs, leaning back on the couch. "You ran away from our hometown, our friends, you ran from me—what the hell happened, baby? Why the sudden move?"

You feel like you're going to throw up. Bonnie has never been like this. Back then, she was emotionally immature, yet manipulative—impulsive, yet scarily calculating when it comes to her own best interest; but this? This is serial killer level behavior.

You try looking for your phone, but it's in your bag... Your bag, sitting pretty right next to Bonnie. Bonnie looks at where you're looking at, and she looks back at you with a thin smile.

"I'm not a serial killer, baby. I just wanna talk,"

"then open the doors, let's talk," you bargain, but you know it's futile. When Bonnie wants something, she always have to have what she wants.

"the last time I let you talk, baby—you left me and our whole town, and I couldn't find you for ten years," Bonnie mutters rather sharply, her tone spiking at the end, however still calm and composed.

You sit up straighter, trying to think of your options. You could talk to her now, see what she wants, maybe she wants to hang out like she said!

But you know better than that. Bonnie was malicious then, but judging from the way she bludgeoned your head and locked you both in here without a way for you to escape, Bonnie is volatile now.

"talk, yeah, okay... Talk about what?" You ask, at the same time trying to think of a way to call for help.

Bonnie thinks for a moment. "What about this?" She takes out a paper from her shirt pocket, and it's a photo. A photo of you, smiling with Andy, big toothed grin on your faces. "Who is she?"

You swallow nervously. "Just someone I work with,"

She clicks her tongue, seemingly getting agitated. "Doesn't look like just a co-worker, baby. Who is she?"

"that's not why you came here, is it? You came here for me," you try to distract her, eyes scanning your storage space, trying to remember where you put things.

"yes, that's true," Bonnie nods, getting up from the couch, walking around your space. She then whips her head around at you, face scrunched up in confusion. "What the fuck happened to us, baby? It used to be just you and me, huh? And now you... You just... Ran away?"

You're terrified for your life. You truly, truly are. But you've watched enough true crime documentaries and observed Bonnie for so long to know that if she walks out of here after killing you, she's gonna go after Andy next.

So you breathe.

"Bonnie, what's between us was... It was great, y'know? But... We got into so much trouble, and, well... Our time has passed, Bonnie. We gotta move on with our lives, doesn't mean that I ran away,"

Even though you actually did ran away.

Bonnie doesn't want to accept that as a valid answer. She shakes her head, and grabs you by the collar, dragging you to your feet. "We were in love,"

"our time together has passed," you insist on the sentiment, trying to keep yourself calm.

She roughly let you go with a grunt, looking away from you. "Does your new girlfriend make you feel like you're flying high? Like when you're with me?"

"no," you shake your head, spotting your gardening tools at the corner of your eye, sitting on the corner of the storage. "She makes me feel like I'm standing on solid ground."

"and how is that better?" She scoffs.

"she makes me want to be a better version of myself. Firefighting is my calling, Bonnie—we were never meant to be together,"

"don't fucking say that," she sneers, visibly displeased with your choice of words.

It's now or never.

You dive sideways, snatching a lighter from the corner of a nearby table. You skid into the corner where your gardening supplies are, grabbing a bottle of pesticide.

Bonnie's eyes widen at your actions. "What do you think you're doing?"

You flicked the lighter open. "Run, Bonnie. Get out of here,"

She only scoffs. "You don't have the guts. You think you have what it takes to kill me? You think that'll work?"

You keep the lighter open near the pesticide bottle, holding them both up. "Get out, Bonnie."

She shakes her head in disbelief. "And what if I don't? What if, instead, I take you home with me, back to our hometown, and we live happily ever after?"

"and what if I don't come with you?"

"then I'll go for your girlfriend," she shrugs easily. "Clearly, she's the reason you don't want to leave Seattle,"

You've made up your mind. You're not gonna let that happen to Andy.

So it should only happen to you.

You opened the pesticide, poured it onto the ground around you, and you drop your lighter, and everything goes ablaze.

Bonnie's wide-eyed expression of shock is the last thing you see as you stagger backwards, the fire creating a wall between you and her.

—

Andy hasn't left the station, as it turns out. She's busy talking to Maya about shift changes in her office, when the alarm suddenly rings out.

"engine 19, aid 19, requested to..."

Andy can feel her heart drop. She turns to Maya, expression horrified. "That's where rookie is at right now,"

Maya doesn't waste time. She nods at Andy, and they both get out of there, and onto the destination.

-

"...you don't think it's her, do you?" Warren asks as he drives the engine, Andy sitting shotgun in the senior man spot.

Andy's growing restless, failing at trying not to show it. "I hope not,"

Warren sympathetically nods, eyes still on the road. "I know we make jokes and memes about you two being a thing, but... I think you're both..."

"...meant to be?" Andy finished Ben's sentiment with a small smile, despite herself.

"yeah, something like that," Warren shrugs.

"I know," Andy leans her head on her hand, as her hand leans on the engine window frame. "Because I feel it too, and yet... I haven't even told her I love her,"

"call her, then,"

Andy doesn't even argue. She pulls out her phone, and dials your number.

Nobody picked up.

Andy sighs, focusing her gaze on the road instead.

They drive the rest in uneasy silence.

—

As 19 arrives on the scene, the storage space lot is halfway engulfed in flames, but luckily, nobody is found injured so far.

Maya talks to the manager of the space, trying to remain focused. "Excuse me, can you tell me if anybody is still inside?"

The manager thinks. "Uh... There's the... The ditzy kid, the firefighter? She hasn't come out,"

Maya nods uneasily. "Which number?"

Andy hops off the engine, taking the hose down, getting ready to kill the fire.

Maya approaches Andy, face somber. "She's in there, we're gonna send a team to get her,"

Andy's eyes widen, dropping the hose without hesitation. "I'll go in there,"

Maya shakes her head, holding Andy back from rushing in to the active fire. "No, you're too close to this, Andy—we'll send in a team,"

Andy feels red in the face. "No, not when the woman I love—"

Maya doesn't budge, though her microexpression sheds a shred of sympathy. "I get it, Andy, but you can't go in there—"

And as luck would have it, the recovery team steps out of the entrance, carrying an unconscious you on a backboard... And Bonnie.

Andy immediately rushes to your side, tears free falling from her eyes as the team walks on. "Rookie? Rookie, oh my god, rookie, wake up!"

"Herrera, you can ride with her in the aid car," one of her colleagues carrying the backboard nods at Andy, which she doesn't pay attention to, too preoccupied at the thought of losing you.

"rookie, wake up, rookie, my love..." Andy pleads, cradling your face in her hand.

You slowly come to at the sound of Andy's voice, echoing in the back of your mind. "... Andy,"

She let out a choked sob, a relieved laugh escaping her lips. "Hey, yeah, yeah, I'm here... I'm here... Your, your head is pretty banged up, too, aside from these burns,"

You lift your head up slightly, and see Bonnie loaded up into a different aid car. "That's... That was my ex, Bonnie,"

Andy's face darken, despite her tears. "What...? Did she set fire to the place...?"

"no, I... I..." Your head hurts so much, and everything else hurts too.

You feel yourself being loaded into the aid car, and Andy rides with you.

They close the doors, and the aid car is on its way to grey sloan.

"what the hell happened, rookie?"

"well..." You groan weakly, the drip of saline being infused into you not really kicking in just yet.

You manage to tell Andy the full story, and her face journey fluctuates between saddened and angered... But as your story ends, she's just so relieved you're still here.

She squeezes your hand in hers, her face full of unsaid things. "I'm just... I'm glad you're okay, rookie..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry anyone—"

"you should know by now that you have people that care about you, rookie,"

You slowly nod, fully understanding the weight of her words. "I guess I'm just starting to really accept that,"

"I... I love you, rookie," Andy said slowly, but surely. "Our job is dangerous, and... I don't want another day to go by without me telling you this,"

You feel your cheeks splitting from the smiling you're doing, though part of that is also from the burns you've suffered from the fire. "Really...?"

"really," Andy nods, resolute. "I don't even know why I didn't say it sooner,"

You bashfully sigh. "I... I love you, Andy,"

Andy grins brilliantly, radiantly. "Yeah?"

"I think that's kind of obvious," you offer with a sly smile.

"...maybe. but it's nice to hear it out loud," Andy chuckles softly, kissing your knuckles.

—

You were given a four week leave due to your injuries, and you were discharged after week one. The night you were admitted into grey sloan, detectives question you, and you told them the truth.

It took some convincing from your captain, but the detectives decided that you're not found guilty in lieu of self defense, while Bonnie will be charged with assaulting a firefighter, and will face time.

You persuaded the detectives to also give Bonnie a psychiatrist beforehand, as your ex also showed symptoms of narcissistic personality disorder, and they shrug out a maybe.

It's been three weeks into your paid leave, and you decide to use your day off to visit Bonnie, still in the hospital.

"hey," you slowly walk over to the edge of her bed, and she watches you without any expression.

Her heavily bandaged limbs makes you feel almost sorry for her, if not for the years of emotional violence you've suffered under her hands. She scoffs at your arrival. "Came to take a gander at your work?"

You purse your lips. "I told you to run, Bonnie. That it didn't have to end this way,"

"and I'm going to prison today, right after they discharge me. And all I wanted was your love,"

You swallow. You're not falling for this again. "You don't want my love. You wanted somebody to control, but I outgrew you."

She chuckles dryly. "Why'd you do it, then? Why ask some psychiatrist to counsel me and shit if you hate me so much?"

"I don't need to like you to give you a helping hand, Bonnie. I'm a firefighter. I save lives,"

Bonnie doesn't answer. You tap the metallic edge of the bed railing with a nod, giving her a goodbye.

You exit her room, immediately bumping into Andy in her civilian clothes. You raise your eyebrows. "Andy? Why are you here?"

Andy shrugs. "I thought I'd find you here. I also heard they're gonna take your ex to jail,"

You nod with a small sigh. "I'm glad you're here,"

Andy gives you a small smile, hugging your sides. "Give you a ride back home?"

"perfect," you nod, content.

"but... You go first," Andy gives you her keys. "I have to use the bathroom,"

You nod, leaving grey sloan with Andy's car keys in hand.

Andy wordlessly watches you leave, and after your silhouette is well gone from the view, she enters Bonnie's hospital room.

Andy stops at the edge of her bed, getting an eyebrow raise out of Bonnie.

"so you're the girlfriend," Bonnie mutters amusedly.

"I'm not just the girlfriend," Andy exclaims, hands in her pockets. "I'm the girlfriend that's going to make her so unbelievably happy, that you will be nothing but a decade long bad dream,"

Bonnie scoffs.

Andy leans forward, no sort of sympathy in her eyes. "I hope you rot in jail."

And with that, Andy walks out of the hospital.

—

After a long while, Andy finally gets into the driver's seat, with you shotgun.

"took you long enough," you softly chuckle.

Andy shrugs. "I got a little side tracked,"

"ready to go home?" You ask her.

She nods. "I love you,"

"I love you too," you say it back without hesitation.

"let's go home." She smiles at you, and drives you both home.

—

Tagging: @geekyandgay98

[wandas-luvr]

that's the kind of love (i've been dreaming of)

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

desc: r's thoughts are rather loud, especially when she's asleep

word count: 1.2k

warnings: mommy kink, somnophilia, dub-con (since r is asleep, but prev negotiations/consent implied), fingering/simulated (???) fingering via wanda's powers (r receiving), face sitting (r giving), hair pulling, praise, edging (r receiving), bondage (through wanda's powers)

-

you squirmed once again in your sleep, causing wanda to turn over groaning softly. she hadn't gotten a wink of sleep since she joined you in bed after she finished up some late-night paperwork.

she had been sleeping awfully because of your constant tossing and turning for most of the week, however, she didn't want to look into your mind to see what was bothering you, hoping you'd come to her to save her from the invasion. nevertheless, her patience was growing ever thinner and she was about to snap.

she turned to look at you, eyes wandering over your sleeping form, lingering at the sliver of skin exposed near your hip as your shirt had risen in your sleep. she reached out, her fingers grazing your warm skin, grinning as goosebumps erupted beneath her touch before caving and moving closer to you.

she gasped softly when she felt you push back into her, whining in your sleep. tilting her head, she decided to finally have a peek into your mind, confirming her suspicions about your dreams had been correct.

she dove deeper, paying closer attention to the content of your dreams, biting her lip to stifle a moan as she saw what you were dreaming of.

she saw a vivid image of her, perched over your face with her legs spread and her hands gripping your hair as she ground against you. she watched as her head tilted back and the vision of her fell over the edge, soaking your face as you looked the happiest you'd ever been.

wanda knew it had always been a fantasy of yours, however she wanted you to become more comfortable asking for what you wanted, so she had waited for you to broach the subject with her.

she grinned when she felt the real you desperately grinding against nothing, hoping for any sort of friction. she decided she wasn't going to wait any longer.

her fingers ran from your hip to the small patch of skin between your navel and the hem of your panties, tracing small patterns there. eventually she grew bored of teasing you and slipped her fingers into your panties, teasing softly over your folds, never dipping lower, grinning as you try to grind against her, whimpering as the ache between your legs grew.

"shh, it's alright, sweet girl. i've got you." she whispered as she finally spread your folds with her fingers, collecting your wetness, before running up towards your clit. she continues to work you up with your fingers, being careful not to wake you, smiling as you moan softly. "that's it, baby, let mommy know how good she makes you feel."

she increases her pressure and you begin to stir awake, moaning loudly in surprise as her fingers push into when you fully open your eyes. wanda chuckles softly, setting a steady pace as she begins to press loving, but firm kisses to your neck, surely leaving marks. "having good dreams, pretty baby?"

you gasp softly, grinding into her hand, "i-i-"

"shhh, honey, it's alright. i know your little head gets so fuzzy when mommy's fingers are filling you up, huh? that's okay, mommy will take care of it for you."

"y-you're....no-t m-mad..?"

"oh, sweetheart, of course i'm not mad. i mean i wish you'd told me, i could've made that pretty little fantasy of yours come true a lot sooner. but, no, i'm not mad."

you sigh, half in relief and half in pleasure as you relax further, enjoying the feeling of her fingers working you towards an orgasm. you push against them in rhythm with her thrusts, your head falling back towards her, as she presses kisses to your throat.

you feel yourself clench tightly around her fingers as she grazes a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, moaning her name loudly before letting out a prolonged whine at the feeling of her fingers dragging out of you.

"mommyyyyy"

"shhh, not yet, honey. mommy wants to make your dreams come true first."

wanda grins as she sees your eyes light up as you squirm in her arms. "eager, are we, baby?"

you nod, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks in embarrassment, squeaking softly when wanda grabs your face firmly to revert your gaze back to her.

"aww, no need to be shy, my love. it's cute you're so excited to make mommy feel good. now, lay back for me, honey."

you do as your told, before looking back up at wanda, biting your lip in anticipation. she removes her panties, tantalizingly slow, before crawling up your body situating her thighs on either side of your face, just out of your reach. you don't dare move a muscle, fighting the urge to reach out and drag her closer, fearing the consequences it would bring. you hear her hum softly above you, chuckling slightly before you flush at the realization she was listening to your thoughts.

she gives in to your obedience, rewarding you by inching closer to you "go ahead, baby."

and, by god, do you.

you hear her groan loudly, as your tongue swipes through her folds, determined to find her clit and circling it with just the right pressure once you find it.

"jesus christ, sweet girl. youre better at this than i expected, fuck..."

she grabs your hair, grinding down onto your tongue. your hands move to her hips, before she forces them down with her powers, causing you to whine under her, pleading with your eyes.

"shhh, baby, you can't touch. just let mommy do it, alright?"

you concede, the denial only pushing you to increase your efforts with your mouth. wanda rewards you with the phantom sensation of fingers, her fingers. you moan, looking up into her red-tinted eyes, to thank her with your own. she grinds harder against you, simultaneously creating a thrusting sensation with her magic.

"oh, fuck, sweetheart. mommy's close, do you think you can cum with me, love?"

you nod, your movements growing sloppier, feeling a mixture of your saliva and her juices coating the lower half of your face, trying your hardest to push her over the edge as you balance on the precipice of your own orgasm.

"so good for me, baby. such a good girl, that's it, my love. don't stop"

you moan, feeling her clench around your tongue and her cum drip down your face as you reach your own orgasm, legs shaking as you pant under her. you open your eyes and look up to see her head thrown back, her toned abdomen flexed slightly with the pressure and you nearly cum again at the sight.

once she's regained her composure, wanda crawls off of you, collapsing next to you on the bed. she brushes the stray hairs stuck to your face from the light sheen of sweat coating your body, before kissing your forehead and pulling you close. she wraps you in the blanket before whispering against your temple, "you did so well for me, lovebug. mommy's so proud of you. now get some rest, you more than deserve it."