#someone take my phone away from me i'm not paying enough attention when i hit buttons and it's becoming a problem

[november-babey]

If you're having a bad day, at least you didn't answer an important phone call while sleeping because you thought it was your alarm

[writingforstraykids]

I owe you a kiss

Pairing: Minho x Chan x fem!reader / Minchan x fem!reader

Word Count: 4344

Summary: As the upcoming comeback gets closer, Chan starts isolating himself from you and Minho, getting overwhelmed. He can't quite deal with feeling so much and nothing at all at the same time and takes it out on the two of you. Minho and you try to help your husband out.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, argument, chan feels numbish, fear of flying, domestic married life, emotional hurt/comfort, angsty!chan, soft!min

A/N: I don't know where that came from, but enjoy me fabricating 4k of angst and domestic bullshit in like half an hour😭🥹

PART TWO

My mind is complicated Find it hard to rearrange it But I'll have to find a way somehow Overreacting lately Find it hard to say I'm sorry Still - Niall Horan

You gently knock at the doorframe to your bedroom to avoid startling your husband and step inside. “You have everything you need, darling?”

Minho's currently packing his suitcase for his trip lasting a week. He looks up, gently blowing his hair from his eyes. “I think so, yes,” he flashes you a warm smile. After checking everything once more, he nods and throws the suitcase closed. "Where's our Channie love?" he asks, pulling the zipper closed and fidgeting with the lock. 

"Working," Chan gives back from next door. 

"Of course you are," he says more to himself, making you giggle. Over the past few days, Chan grew very quiet, burying himself in work and avoiding you for most of the time. It happened sometimes before a busy schedule, and Minho had learned to deal with the fact that Chan needed this to recharge. Minho, Chan and you had been dating for four years before tying the knot five years ago. He knows the two of you inside out by now after almost a decade. Minho strolls into Chan's working area and rests his hands on his shoulders. "Hey, there." 

"Hey," Chan gives back, not looking up from his screen and staying seated at his desk. 

"You're hungry? I can order something," he tells him, gently running his hand through his hair. 

"Stop that," Chan grumbles and tilts his head away from him. 

"Okay, sorry," Minho nods calmly and pulls his hands back. For a moment, the sound of Chan's fingers hitting the keyboard is all that can be heard. "So?" he asks, his patience starting to wear thin. 

"I'll keep working," he shakes his head. 

"Chan," Minho says firmly. "I'm leaving after that, and it would be nice to have lunch with my wife and my husband." 

"Fucks sake, you're annoying," Chan sighs and waves him off. "I'll be there in a moment." 

"Thank you," Minho rolls his eyes and makes his way downstairs. "Someone's in a mood," he grumbles as he leans against the kitchen island beside you. 

“Don’t take it to heart, you know he gets sometimes,” you say soothingly, rubbing his shoulder. “What are we getting?”

“Whatever you want, honey,” he winks at you and lets you scroll through the options. “I don’t get him. It’s still a month until the album drops, and we have pretty much everything sorted out. Sure, I have to come up with two more dances, but that’s my issue, isn’t it?” he asks.

“You know Chan makes everything his responsibility,” you tell him and hand him back his phone. “He’ll calm down again; I’ll see what I can do.”

Minho sighs softly and orders the food, still seeming a little pissed off. Usually, Chan knows how much Minho needs a stable environment before a flight. He's scared of flying enough as it is, but especially when he's caught up in his thoughts. So it confuses you a little that he doesn’t seem to pay much attention to that today.

You call out for him twice as your food arrives until Chan finally joins you downstairs. 

Chan's staring into the distance, pushing his food around on his plate and staying quiet as Minho and you keep on talking. 

"Tastes good?" Minho asks after a while and gently nudges Chan beneath the table. 

"Yeah, I guess," he shrugs and ignores the frown Minho gives him. 

"How's work going, Channie?" you try your luck. 

"Great," he simply says, shoving some food into his mouth, clearly signaling he doesn't want to talk right now. 

"Good," Minho nods and sighs softly. "I'm a little nervous." 

"Why?" he gives back, almost a little routined.

"I hate flying, as you know," he groans frustratedly. 

"You did fine before," Chan shrugs and takes a sip from his drink. "It's just a flight." 

"Yeah, that's the point, isn't it?" Minho asks, starting to get a little irritated. 

"Don't be a baby, you'll manage," he says, and Minho stares at him, unable to come up with a proper answer. 

"Thanks, very helpful," he presses out, gripping his glass tighter as his hand starts to shake. He has no time for a mental breakdown right now. 

“Channie,” you sigh softly, deciding to step in. The last thing you want is Minho to leave like that.

Looking up, Chan sees the confusion and anxiety clouding Minho's eyes. "Sorry, Min, you're not a baby," he says, not very convincingly, but it seems to be better than nothing to Minho. 

Minho glances at his watch and clears his throat. "I'll go and grab my stuff," he announces. 

Chan rolls his eyes once he's gone and braces his head on his hand, staring out of the window. He wonders how the hell he'll be able to finish everything he has to do in so little time.

“Channie, angel?” you ask gently, and he hums in response. “At least try and be nice? He’s gone for a week after.” 

“You two are fucking exhausting,” he groans, and you raise your eyebrows, ready to answer as Minho comes back downstairs. 

You get up to collect the trash and decide to continue this talk later.

"I'll see you in a week then," Minho says gently, and Chan hums, agreeing. "You'll be okay?" 

"Sure," he nods and stares into the distance. 

Minho takes his hand and tries to meet his eyes. "Love?" he asks, and Chan very slowly turns to him. "You know you can call if you get overwhelmed or need help with anything." 

"Mhm," he hums and pulls his hand from his hold. 

"Okay," he chews on his lower lip for a moment. "Well, I'll be leaving then."

"Okay," he nods. 

"Can I at least get a kiss?" Minho asks quietly, and his heart sinks as Chan frowns. 

"No," he simply says. 

"No?" Minho echoes quietly, subconsciously taking a step back. 

"Don't feel like it," he shrugs and glances at his watch. 

"You don't feel like…wow, okay," he nods, trying to swallow down the sudden sickness spreading through him. "Did I do something wrong?" he asks timidly. Maybe this wasn't just Chan pulling back, but he had done something to upset him. 

“No, you didn’t, Min,” you say firmly, staring at him irritated.

Chan turns to look at him properly for the first time today. Minho's heart sinks at the carelessness in them. "Right now, you're keeping me from working. I have stuff to do, mate."

"Mate?" Minho presses out, taking a few steps back. "Alright, I'll see you in a week, bestie. Seriously, fuck you," he snaps and grabs his keys. 

"Minho, come on," Chan groans, rolling his eyes at him. "Stop overreacting." 

Minho fidgets with his wedding ring before slamming it on the table. "Know what that is?" 

"You're being serious right now?" Chan raises his eyebrows at him mockingly. 

"That stupid little thing means we're husbands, idiot. I've been by your side for nine years now; I think you can start using appropriate terms, Chan hyung." Minho says firmly, and for a moment, he considers leaving the ring here. But then he remembers he has a public image to maintain, and showing up without one of his wedding rings would raise questions. Also, deep down, it feels wrong already to only wear yours. 

"You're being ridiculous," Chan says and gets up, pushing past him. 

"No, I'm hurt. There's a difference, Chan," he tells him, grabbing his suitcase. "But fine, I'll leave like that. I'll see you in a week then." 

"Fucking great," Chan nods, walking upstairs and not looking back. 

Minho watches him, stunned, before finally leaving the house and slamming the door closed. 

You stand still for a moment, trying to process what has just happened. "You had one job, Chan! Be nice!" you shout upstairs. 

"Fuck you too!" he shouts back and slams his door closed. 

"You two are fucking ridiculous sometimes," you curse and search for your keys. 

Minho gets into his car and stays there for a few minutes, trying to calm down. Secretly, he hoped Chan would join him and make things right before leaving. But he doesn't. The door to his car opens, and you lean down to look at him, raising your eyebrows in amusement. “Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he groans and gets out quickly.

You giggle softly as he rushes over to you and pulls you into a tight hug. “Well, goodbye then, darling,” you tease him lovingly.

“I’m sorry, he pissed me off,” he groans, stifling his laughter in your shoulder.

“I know he did,” you laugh and soothingly pat his back. “Give him time to sulk; he’ll start missing you in two days top. He always does.”

“You’ll be okay?” Minho asks, pulling back and looking at you caringly. 

“I’ll be fine. It’s Channie,” you giggle, and Minho snorts. “Deep down, he just needs a cuddle and acts tough so we won’t notice how stressed he is.”

“You handle this way better than I do, even though I’ve known him longer,” he laughs, rolling his eyes at himself.

“I just have a little more patience for his bullshit,” you giggle and check your phone. “You should leave before you miss your flight.”

“Ugh, fine,” he groans. 

“You’ll do great, my darling,” you assure him. “Call me when you land?”

“You know I will,” he promises, lovingly kissing you goodbye. “I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, Minnie darling,” you smile.

-

Minho has been gone for four days when he gets a call. To his surprise, it's Chan's number popping up on his screen only minutes before a fashion event. Minho searches for a quiet corner and takes the call. "Hey, I don't have much time. What's up?" he asks calmly and frowns at the silence that follows. "Chan?" 

"Something's wrong," he says quietly. 

"What do you mean?" he asks confused. 

"I don't…I don't feel good," he says monotonously. "Something's off." 

Minho swallows softly. "Where are you?" 

"Home," Chan tells him.  

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks.

“Left,” he answers quietly.

“What do you mean she left?” he frowns, nervously scanning the crowd around himself.

“Told her to leave me alone. She took that to heart,” he explains. “She’s with her best friend.”

Minho exhales relieved, knowing you are safe with your friend. "Channie, what's wrong?" he asks patiently. "You can't just push us away. We love you, and saying yes five years ago means you're stuck with us," he chuckles, waving off his assistant tapping her watch.  

"I know," Chan says and chews on his lower lip, unable to put it into words. "Remember when I had that episode of feeling worthless and overwhelmed back when we were trainees?" 

"Mhm, of course I do," he nods, swallowing hard as he thinks of Chan's emotional state back then. Nothing had worried him that much in a long time. "Is that what's going on?" 

"No…I feel..kinda numb," Chan admits and curses himself. "I feel so much and nothing at all. I feel like crying, but I can't, I can't focus on anything, I feel like everything I do is pointless and…Minnie, can you come back home?" he asks, his voice whispering. "It's starting to scare me whenever I have a clear moment." Minho rubs his face tiredly, and Chan takes his silence the wrong way. "I know you have shit to do…I just thought..I need you, please?" 

"Give me an hour to sort this out," Minho says, and Chan exhales in relief. "I want you to grab a blanket, make yourself some tea, and put on your favorite series. Get comfortable on the sofa downstairs. You think you can do that for me?" 

"Okay," Chan nods. 

"I'll let you know when I'm on the plane," he says, sighing softly. "Channie love?" 

"Yeah?" he asks quietly. 

"Don't do anything stupid," he says, his grip around his phone tightening. 

"I owe you a kiss," he answers, and Minho smiles sadly. 

"Damn right you do," he nods and is about to end the call. 

"Minho, baby?" Chan asks, almost a little timid. 

"Yes, dear?" he asks patiently. 

"Have a safe flight. You can do this, and I'll be there once you're back," he says, and Minho blinks back tears, gripping his phone tightly. 

"Thank you," he whispers. So he hasn't forgotten. 

-

You frown softly as Minho’s name pops up on your screen. Shouldn’t he be at some fancy fashion event right now? “Min?” you take the call confused. 

“Hey, honey,” he says sweetly. “You have a minute?”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod agreeing, and smile at your friend thankfully, who hands you a cup of tea. 

“Chan called,” he says and sighs at the silence following. “What happened?”

“Well, what did he tell you?” you ask stubbornly.

“Stop playing games, baby girl,” he warns you. “I should’ve been on some red carpet five minutes ago. So, what happened?”

You roll your eyes and subconsciously play with the two small rings decorating your ring finger: one for Chan and one for Minho. “I made the mistake of thinking I’d get a hug and kiss goodnight from my husband,” you tell him quietly, and he can tell you’re hurt. “He told me to leave him alone, so I did.”

“Fucking hell, Chan,” he breaths out and throws his head back in frustration. “I promised him to come home early, but I need some time to figure this out.”

“Oh, please, Min, it’s only three days,” you protest. That’s not what you had intended at all. “We can manage that, and we’ll talk once you’re back.”

“Well, he can’t,” he shakes his head.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“He called me to ask if I can come back because he’s not doing alright. He said something about feeling numb and like failing,” Minho explains, following his assistant, who had given up by now, to his car.

“Shit, Min, I didn’t know. I thought he was stressed and taking it out on us,” you say apologizingly. 

“Relax, I didn’t know either,” he sighs, getting into his car. “Listen, I’ll be back home in a few hours. You think you can go back home in the meantime?” he asks gently. “I know you’re hurt and-.”

“No, it’s alright. Of course, I’ll go back home,” you say, already getting up and gathering your things. “You have a key to get in?”

“I think so, yes,” he nods.

“Alright, I’ll see you later then. I’ll go check on Channie,” you promise, and Minho exhales, relieved. You quickly explain everything to your friend before driving home a little faster than you should. Closing the door, you kick off your shoes and rush into the living room. 

Chan looks up at you, confused, eyes widening at the sight of you. “Y/N?” he asks stunned.

“I’m so sorry, Channie angel,” you apologize and sit down next to him on the sofa. “I didn’t realize you were struggling that much. I thought you were stressed or something.”

“Min told you?” he asks, chuckling as you nod. “Typical, can’t keep a secret.”

“He’s worried,” you scold him gently and take Chan’s hand. “I’m worried.”

“That’s why I didn’t want to tell you,” he admits. “I don’t like worrying you. I just gave up hiding from Min because he witnesses most of it during work anyway.”

“Fair point,” you hum softly and hesitantly rest your head on his shoulder. This time, he lets you. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“I’m sorry for pushing you away,” he says, squeezing your hand gently. “I’m not myself at the moment. Min has helped me out before when we were still trainees, I trust him with this.”

“Okay then,” you nod, smiling as he wraps his arm around you. “I’m here if you need me.”

“Thank you,” he says gently.

-

When Minho gets home a few hours later, he feels drained, pushing his suitcase into a corner and kicking off his shoes. He's still wearing the makeup and outfit for tonight's event, having wasted no time with changing. He tiredly runs his hand through his hair and stares at it for a moment, still shaking as the adrenaline and fear of the flight slowly wear off. His eyes fall upon the wedding rings on his finger. His heart steadies, remembering why he's there as he looks at Chan’s. 

A pair of hands slip into his, taking his smaller ones and gently squeezing them. Minho looks up and meets the eyes he fell in love with all those years ago. Chan moves their hands up to his face, planting a tiny kiss on each of his knuckles. "Breathe," he tells him quietly, and Minho exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding in. 

Minho can't stop himself and pulls him into a tight hug. He buries his face in his shoulder, stomach sinking as Chan stiffens for a moment in his hold. He pulls back, unable to meet his eyes. "Sorry, I should know better, you're not feeling up for this right -." 

Chan cuts him off by pulling him in and shaking his head. "Sorry, I'm a little slow at the moment." 

"That's okay," Minho assures him and gently rubs his back. 

"I can't do anything right at the moment," Chan says quietly, gripping the back of Minho's suit jacket tightly. 

Minho soothingly runs his hand through his hair. "Sometimes it's enough if the only thing you did today was breathe." 

"If you think so," Chan mumbles into the fabric as he buries his nose in his shoulder. 

"I know so," he tells him, resting his head against Chan's. 

“You told Y/N,” he speaks up after a moment. 

“Of course I did. She’s our wife, Channie love,” he giggles softly. “She should know, it’d worry her more not knowing what’s going on.”

He hums gently and tightens his hold on him. "I don't know what to do," Chan admits quietly. "I never felt so empty and isolated." 

"I know that's probably hard to believe right now, but I promise you'll always find me in these three places: In front of you to cheer you on, behind you to have your back, and beside you, so you're never alone," he starts out gently. "I'll find a way to make you feel full again…fuck, that came out wrong," Minho groans, and for the first time in almost two weeks, Chan laughs. 

"Idiot," he giggles and pulls back, meeting his eyes. He reaches out for him, hesitantly brushing back a strand of hair, fingertips tracing the features of his face. Once he reaches his lips, Minho plants a gentle kiss against his fingertips. Chan looks up, and he can't quite pinpoint the look in his husband's eyes. "I messed up that event for you, didn't I?" 

"It doesn't matter," he assures him. "You're more important." 

"You're mad?" he asks, squinting his eyes at him a little. 

"Do I look mad?" he asks gently. 

Chan frowns a little. "No…you look pretty." 

A soft smile covers his lips and travels to his eyes. "That's very sweet." 

"It's weird because I can tell what you're feeling, but…I have no clue how to grasp what I'm feeling," Chan admits, tears brimming his eyes. "I'm messed up, aren't I?" 

"You're struggling," he reminds him kindly. "We can work this out. We did that before." 

"Promise?" Chan asks, searching his eyes observantly. 

"I promise," he says, holding Chan's hand wearing the wedding rings. "I told you I'd be there, no matter what," he tells him, and Chan nods firmly, holding on to the truth of those words. "I need to get rid of the makeup and…whatever the hell that is," he says, looking down at himself. They've put him in some suit and casual clothes arrangement with way too many straps in a different fabric to his taste. 

"I'll help," Chan says, and Minho nods thankfully. 

“Channie?” you ask quietly. Minho turns in Chan’s hold and smiles softly, seeing you. You’re wearing one of his sweaters, and your hair messily falls around your face. You tiredly rub your face and squint at them before the realization hits you. “Oh, Minnie, you’re back,” you beam.

“Hey, honey,” he says softly, grabbing your hand and pulling you into their hug. He plants a tiny kiss on top of your head and giggles as you pout at Chan. 

“Got cold without you,” you tell him. 

“Sorry, baby,” he chuckles and rubs your back. "I had to check on Minho." 

"You're doing okay?" you ask him gently. 

"I'm glad to be on solid ground again," he snorts and lovingly brushes back your hair. "Let's go upstairs. Channie's helping me, and then we can all go to bed." 

"Sounds great," you nod and tiredly rub your eyes. "Channie?" you ask sweetly, making grabby hands at him. Chan snorts and rolls his eyes before lifting you up to carry you upstairs. You smirk at Minho as he follows the two of you. "Doesn't he look handsome?"

"Already told him so," Chan comments.

"You look like a prince, darling. So cute with that glitter around your eyes," you compliment him, and Minho blushes. 

"You're too kind, as always, my beautiful wife," he smiles shyly, and your heart swoons at his last words. 

"Careful," Chan says as he lowers you on the bed. He makes sure you're comfortable and tugs you in already, leaning down and planting a light, almost hesitant kiss on your forehead. "Thank you for coming home," he tells you quietly enough for only you to hear as Minho throws his bag in a corner of the room. "I feel more safe when you're here." 

"Always," you promise. Chan makes his way over to Minho, helping him with his outfit's many buttons and straps. He also removes his shirt and grabs a new one from the closet. "If I weren't so tired, I'd enjoy the show a little more enthusiastically."

Minho's ears burn up red, and he quickly slips into the shirt. "If you weren't so tired, I'd make sure you put that pretty mouth to use for something other than talking shit." 

Your jaw drops, and Minho smirks succeeding. "Fucks sake, you guys, I thought we'd be getting some sleep," Chan protests, making you both laugh. "Okay, sit down," he tells Minho and gets comfortable on the edge of the desk. He plants his feet on Minho's chair, left and right of his thighs. Chan places one hand beneath Minho's chin as he starts wiping away all the makeup, cursing softly to himself about all the glitter around his eyes. "As if you'd need any of this shit," he groans, and Minho giggles softly. 

"You know how it is," he shrugs and closes his eyes for him as Chan gently removes the last remains of his eyeshadow. His eyes flutter back open as Chan takes off the small diamond earring for him. "Thank you, love," he says softly, reaching for him. 

Chan slides off the desk and right into his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck. You smile gently, watching them, knowing their goodbye hasn't been that great. He sighs softly and brushes his nose against Minho's. "It's good you're back." 

"Yeah?" Minho asks with a shy smile. 

"Mhm," he hums, sinking deeper into his eyes. "Feels safe." 

"I love you," Minho says, rubbing his lower back soothingly. 

"I know," he nods and presses their foreheads together. "And I know I feel the same way about you…even now." 

"That's good," he says, squeezing his hips. "Don't force it, we have time." 

"Being with you feels..good," Chan tells him and subconsciously presses himself closer. It reminds you a little of what he said to you before you fell asleep on the sofa. At least he seems to be able to feel comfort as well. 

Minho very gently reaches up, cupping his face and caressing his cheeks. "How does that feel?" 

"Warm," Chan says, covering his hands with his own. 

"You like that?" he asks, trying to figure out how to start tackling the issue at hand slowly. 

"Yeah," he nods, a small smile covering his face. 

Minho thinks for a moment before he knows what to try next. After all, his husband was a sucker for compliments he couldn't take for shit. If that wouldn't make him feel something, he doesn't know what would. "You're so beautiful, you know, Channie love. Such a handsome husband with those sweet eyes and bright smile," he says, noticing a slight blush creeping up his face. "Don't get me started on those soft curls. Or the way my hands fit perfectly into yours." Chan shifts on his lap, eyes widening a little as he takes it all in. "Have I ever told you how much I love you being so cuddly?" 

"Minho," he protests gently. 

"Yes, beautiful?" he asks curiously. 

"He's right, Channie angel…but he forgot about your cute laugh and caring sweetness," you chime in. “Or the way your strong arms wrap around me, the way you let me rest on your chest when I’m tired, and how cute you get when you soothe me to sleep.”

"Stop," Chan groans softly. "Now I feel all warm and fuzzy inside," he says, hiding his face in his shoulder as Minho chuckles. "Don't laugh."

Minho smiles and plants a tender kiss on top of his hair. "See? You're still able to feel good things as well." 

"I'm not fucked, in that case?" he asks so innocently it makes you and Minho crack up. 

"It's a good start, don't you think?" he asks, giggling. 

"I guess so," he chuckles and sighs softly as Minho runs his hand through his hair. "Keep doing that?" 

"Let's get to bed, I won't let go of you tonight," he promises. 

"What about me, Minnie?" you pout softly. 

"I'm in the middle in this case," he snorts, and Chan and you seem happy with that. He smiles as the both of you cuddle up to his sides, heads resting on his chest. Minho soothingly plays with Chan's hair, smiling as you take Chan's hand and intertwine them on his stomach. 

PART TWO

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@kai-lee08 @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies @soullostinspaceandtime @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @galaxycatdrawz @aaasia111 @channieaddict @kthstrawberryshortcake

[i-cant-sing]

I am very, very sad right now :( so I will use this time to make another OC that will comfort me <3

Meet Theodore. He's an undercover agent/assassin who is deaf. He's been working at his own cafe that he'd inherited from his grandpa, as a cover story. To maintain his low profile, he rarely works at the front of the shop, preferring to stay in the kitchen and let someone else handle the customers. Because there are still some assholes that like to make fun of his disability, and he only doesn't have the time to kill so many people from the same town and clean up as well.

You've recently moved into his city. Theodore always keeps tabs on everyone, so the moment you'd stepped into his cafe, his agency had already sent him a complete background on you. You were a normal person, nothing really stood out about you.

The barista had gotten sick that day and went home, so Theodore had to work in his place instead. You'd just ordered your coffee and busied yourself with your phone. He was trying very hard to read you, and while nothing really stood out about you, his guy told him you were not as normal as you seemed.

Something was up with you, and he was determined to find out.

While he was psychoanalysing you, some jerks had decided to interfere and mess with him instead. They were calling him derogatory names and making fun of him in general, not knowing that Theodore could very well read lips and he was very close to throwing the hot pot of coffee on them.

But before it could come to that, you told them to stfu and knock it off. Obviously, these guys didn't take it well and walked over to you and asked if you'd got a crush on the retar-

Before they could finish talking, you punched one guy in the face, and when his friend tried to grab you, you threw your hot coffee on his face, some of it spilling and burning your own hand too. The guy you'd punched earlier took your momentary distraction and threw a chair at you, but it never hit you. Because Theodore had grabbed it with one hand.

And then... he launched the chair back at the man.

The furniture sent him flying down with a deep gash to his forehead. Theodore stalked towards the other guy and punched him in the face, breaking his nose. The guy was howling in pain, but Theodore didn't give him time to recover as he yanked the man up by his collar and gave him the deadliest glare ever before nodding his head towards the exit.

That was enough for the man to understand what Theodore meant and he didn't waste another second before dragging his unconscious friend out of the cafe.

Theodore turned his attention back to you, finding you holding your bruised knuckles. He went to the back and brought you some ice in a towel, gently taking your injured hand in his and icing down the swelling. You both didn't say anything for a while, at least not until you'd pulled your hand away and said thanks.

He just gave a nod.

"So... you read lips?" You asked. Theodore nodded. "Hm, figured as much. Well, thank you for the ice. Here- let me help you with this." You said as you helped clean up the coffee you'd spilled. "Yes, sorry about this. I- I'll take my leave-" but he stopped you when you tried to pay for the coffee. He pulled out his phone and typed into it.

No need. On the house, for standing up for me.

You smiled. "No biggie. I'm Y/n." He typed into his phone.

Theodore. Its nice meeting you.

"Theodore. I like it." You nodded. He began typing again.

Haven't seen you around here before. Passing by or staying?

"Staying. For a while. I haven't decided how long, I'll have to see if I like it here."

He nodded. Well, if its any consolation, those 2 jerks aren't representative of most people here. Besides, I think the town could use some people like you.

You giggled. "Well, if you continue making good coffee, I just might stay here permanently."

-

From there on, Theodore began keeping tabs on you, initially under the guise of being wary of you, but then when he found out that you were his new neighbour, your apartment right next to his, the universe practically was begging him to stalk you.

I mean, he wouldn't have really bothered with it after he confirmed you had a clean background, but it just- he couldn't get the way you stood up for him (a complete stranger) against two men who were twice your size, out of his mind.

And maybe he could've overlooked it if it was only a one time thing. But it wasn't quite one time thing.

Theodore has observed that you have a... bleeding heart of sorts. You stand up for anyone and everyone that comes in your sight. Someone's bullying a kid? You get those bullies to apologise. Someone's giving the homeless guy a hard time? You butt in, with a feral fighting stance against some asshat who could break you like a twig.

But your "good samaritan" behavior tends to backfire a lot, leading you to sometimes having small bruises to a fractured bone or two. Which then leads to Theodore worrying himself sick over you, and he tries to jump in as often as he could without raising the suspicion that he's stalking you. You'd lead him back to your apartment (too trusting) and offer him dinner or something while he insisted on bandaging you up. One of these days.... one of these days someone is gonna pull a knife or a gun on you and he won't be able to save you. The mere thought worries him, and he tries to convince you to not help everyone you see, especially at night. You just laugh it off, telling him that "I'm not a klutz, Theodore. How stupid do you think I am?" before grabbing the hot handle of the pan and burning your hand.

Theodore stays up night wondering if you're in bed or ran out to the street in your bunny slippers because you heard someone cry. He wonders if you'd even locked your door.

He could... he could always check, right? He's just a concerned neighbour-

Theodore was now standing outside your room. As it turned out, you did lock your apartment door, but then Theodore got worried if you'd left the gas stove on, or if you were even breathing. So he broke in, as quietly as he could, just to check up on you. And then he couldn't stop staring at you.

He left eventually, realising how creepy it would look if you saw him, but not before putting some a few cameras around the house (how you didn't hear him is beyond him).

Now, he can keep an eye on you even when you're not at his cafe💖

However, something about you still bugged him. Like you were off somehow, perhaps hiding something.

So he decides to date you. But not because he loves you or anything. No, no. This was only to get close to you, only to spy on you... right?

Now he's dating you. You were reluctant at first, but once he was able to charm you (mostly by making you pity him when he told you he's ne er felt like this before for anyone because he never thought anyone would date him because of his disability. Which is complete crap because he had a lot of people falling for him, but Theodore pushed them all away because he hated them).

Dating you allows him to be near you. He can swing by your apartment a lot more often, and that gives him a chance to snoop through your stuff.

While Theodore is looking around, you're doing all the lovey dovey stuff and since he's never been in a relationship, he's falling hard for all of it.

Cuddles? He loves them, never knew how much it made his heart swell when he wrapped his big arms around your small frame.

Kisses? He's kissed a few people on the lips for missions, but omg how cute are your kisses on his nose and cheeks. He's melting inside.

His favourite thing to do with you is reading. You're just snuggled up to him as he holds a book, and you're both reading it. Usually, he reads up on world history and psychology, but with you, he's reading all types of genres. And you look so cute when you'd dose off.

But perhaps the nail in the coffin was when you learned sign language. For him. You did that for him. How- what- WHO DOES THAT???

And now, he's completely and utterly in love with you.

And once he's able to admit that to himself, things are likely to go downhill for you.

His protectiveness increases by 10 folds. Which means more trackers and bugs on you, more of him accompanying you wherever, more lectures about how it's not always a good idea to leave the house to help complete strangers. He has literally climbed on top of you to prevent you from leaving your bed in the middle of the night (only moving away when you insisted that someone might need help, and even then he'd push you back into bed and go check out the noise himself)

Theodore never liked possessive s/o. He always thought that was a very toxic trait and a huge red flag to have.

It's funny how blind he is to his own possessiveness. He hates it when other people interact with you, when others have your attention. You waved it off as "cute" when Theodore would hold onto your hand or tried to block your door when you wanted to meet some friends. You just kissed his nose and ruffled his hair (and he just melted into your touch), telling him you'd be back soon. It's just that Theodore has never had someone so nice to him, so selfless and caring. He just has you now, and he doesn't ever want to let go of you.

I don't know why, but I think of Theodore as this big cuddly bear that sometimes huffs when he doesn't have your attention. Like he just stares longingly at you through the cameras wondering if you're just pretending to have a good time to mask how sad you actually because you miss him terribly.

He absolutely loves it when you drop by for surprise visits. Like Theodore would be busy on his laptop, typing absentmindedly because his mind is actually preoccupied by you, and then boop! You surprise him with a kiss on his pouty lips. His dumbfounded reaction is always so worth it.

What's not worth it is him tackling you into a hug as if he hadn't seen in centuries, which is followed by Theodore pulling you into his lap and making you wrap your arms around him as he hooks your head under his chin because as terribly as he had missed you, he still has work to do. And even though he doesnt allow you to move until hes finished with work, he's warm and fuzzy and he gives you headpats (and some pats on the bum).

Sometimes when he's sleeping next to you (with a leg and an arm draped over you to make sure you don't escape into the night), he wonders how important you've become to him. How much control you have over his heart. He would catch sharp knives with his bare hands for you (you should ask him to do that. He's very good at it). And it scares him a little how he's sure he would lose his mind if something were to happen to you.

He pulls your asleep body closer to him, silently pressing a kiss to your ear.

I love you so much.

[carsonnieve]

masterpost of my fics on ao3

Just doing this because I want to have something pinned on my page here but well, a reminder of my old fics from different fandoms because kudos and comments are appreciated as well so it motivates me to keep on writing. Hopefully there's new ones updated soon as long as my inspiration kicks in.

Currenly working on two mevie fics so let's see how that goes!

username: carsonnieve

Let's start with the ones that are completed and I'm really proud of.

it's always about fate pairing: beca and chloe (pitch perfect) rating: T

Summary: Chloe sighed and walked in the coffee shop with the phone in her hands. She didn’t want to have this conversation today and yet there she was, talking about it when she just wanted a coffee and have a relaxing afternoon writing down new ideas for her stories and not pining over her online friend. Then the moment she looked up she saw someone she really wanted to see too and the reason why her heart was so divided and yet confusing. Beca.

2. unsay these spoken words pairing: regina mills and emma swan (once upon a time) rating: T

Summary: Because maybe, after all, she could take the pain and continue with her life. But maybe she thought she could, when actually her heart was already broken and the scattered pieces all over her chest were not enough to make her realize that she was alone, and hurt. She had hope... until she saw the ring on her finger.

3. fool for you pairing: harry hook x evie grimhilde (descendants) rating: T

Summary: Her smile forever gone after the images came back to her mind, sending chills all over her body and a strange feeling going slowly up her spine. And in that instant, she closed her eyes. Right when it hit her. Right when Harry stood up and placed a hand on her arm. “It reminds ye o’ that night, eh?"

4. let me pairing: mal and evie (descendants) rating: T

Summary: "Mal?" "I'm fine. Let's change and go dance, okay?" The girl tried to slip away from her arms but Evie kept holding her because she knew something was off. And it was right there, in that hug, when she felt a sting of pain way worse than the last. Her hand immediately went to her skin to keep it hidden. But Evie's eyes were already on the injury. And Mal was so ready to hear her complain about the dress she just destroyed because she wasn't careful enough with it. And to be honest, she just couldn't deal with that in that exact moment.

5. watch me ride the beat pairing: mal and evie (descendants) rating: E

Summary: “Oh! I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking.” Wow, she’s even prettier in front of me. Evie thought with both of her hands on her shoulders for support, as the blonde’s hands kept a hold on her hips, keeping her still. “I’m really sorry.” The brunette ran her fingers through her hair and her other hand touched the girl’s nape, without her even noticing it. She seemed to be too busy holding Evie by her waist. Her fingers slightly touching her bare back. “Don’t worry. It’s not your fault. I wasn’t paying attention either.” or the smutty club!au fic no one asked for but i needed to write

and here comes the unfinished ones but that will be finished one day, trust me.

some things are meant to be pairing: mal and evie (descendants) rating: M

Summary: Everyone knew what a soulmate was back in Auradon, where princes and princesses lived their own happily ever after. Where their parents taught them what true love was without fear. Needless to say they believed in their own destiny but the idea of having a soulmate was so exciting for all of them. But back on The Isle… Descendants of pure evil weren’t fond of the idea, especially considering what their parents taught them; "love is not for us, love is weakness, we’re villains and you are our next generation to take over the world and finally get the revenge we so desire." But everything changed when four of them were sent to Auradon. And it all started when two girls were 6 years old... or the Soulmate!AU nobody asked for but I really wanted to write.

2. to find the light even in the darkest places pairing: mal and evie (descendants + shadowhunters universe) rating: E

Summary: Evie and Harry are two of the best shadowhunters of their generation. They never get in trouble and they always get the job perfectly done… until they go on a mission and everything starts to change and leads them into an unexpected path. Should they continue their normal lives or live as they want to without thinking of the consequences? Is it more important to find and follow love than their duties as shadowhunters and working for the Clave? Even when a new source of evil arises and things start to get more serious… is everything worth fighting for? It all starts with a simple order from the Clave… or the shadowhunters!au no one asked for but we needed to write

There's also two in Spanish in case I have followers who actually speaks the language and not just me and the last one is one of my favorites from my favorite couple so please check it out, thanksssss!!

[password-door-lock]

Mystictober Day 27-- Danger

Content warning: manipulation

You make a break for it by the light of the moon. Getting out of the building is easier than you thought it would be— none of the strange people that you pass seem to pay you any attention, and if they do look in your direction, they don't stop to talk. You haven't been enjoying the game you're testing, and the awkward, cloaked company employees have been giving you the chills since your first day here. Ray seems very nice, but something about this place just rubs you the wrong way. 

As soon as you step outside, you are absolutely certain of your decision— the fresh air hits your face, and it’s like a weight has lifted from your shoulders. You have no idea where this place actually is, considering you came here with a blindfold on, but you figure that if you wander far enough away, eventually you'll come to some kind of road, where you'll find people willing to direct you to the nearest town. That, or you can walk until you have cell service, then use your phone to contact someone who'll be willing to help— maybe you’ll be able to get in touch with a coworker or a friend, even at such a late hour. All you really know is that everything is not as it seems at this game design company, and you are eager to put the entire experience behind you.

As you pass through the garden, your confidence grows— you might get away with this after all. Well, of course you'll get away with it— it's not like you're being held against your will or anything. Ray will understand if you want to seek other opportunities elsewhere, right? What's he gonna do, try and keep you here? Track you down, drag you back, and lock you in your room? No, Ray would never do something like—

You cut yourself off inside your head, pausing to listen to the distinct sound of approaching footsteps. There is no mistaking them— you have been pursued. Why have you been pursued? Surely the employees would be too busy working on their game to bother with the likes of you. You whip around, not sure what to expect, and come face-to-face with Ray. You breathe a sigh of relief— he’ll understand as soon as you explain what’s going on, and then you can be on your way. “MC,” he breathes, rushing over to you. “My prince(ss). There you are. When I came to your room and you weren't there, I thought...”

“Ray,” you bite your lip, avoiding his eyes. You trust Ray to respect your decision to leave, but you still feel bad about disappointing him. When you first arrived at Magenta, he mentioned that if you’d refused to test the game, they would have had to delay its release; by leaving, you’re only making more work for him, not to mention for whoever he selects to test the game once you’re gone.  “I... I've really enjoyed spending time with you. I think you're a great guy, but I have to—”

“MC?” You don't need to look at him to see that he's getting choked up. “You're not trying to leave me, are you?” There’s a note in Ray’s voice that you can’t quite place, something raw and almost feral. All of a sudden, you’re not sure how well you know him, after all. 

“It's not you, it's just…” You try to think of a good way to phrase your complaints. It's not easy; you get the feeling that Ray will take your criticism to heart no matter what you tell him. But he's a reasonable person, right? He'll understand eventually. All you have to do is get through to him, and then you'll be free to go. Maybe he can help you— he was the one who got you transportation here, right? So once you tell him that you're getting creeped out, maybe he can help you leave. He did tell you that he only wants you to be happy, so surely, he would let you go if you were unhappy, right? “I'm feeling a little bit smothered here. and I think... I want to get back to my life. We could keep in touch, of course, but... would you mind calling that car again?”

Now you look up, expecting Ray's warm smile. That is not what you receive. There's a look in his eyes that you've never seen before, though it doesn’t align at all with the strange new quality in his voice. He is looking at you with pure, unadulterated pity. “You don't know what you're saying,” he reaches out, caressing your face with a single gloved finger. For a moment, you wonder if he might be right— after all, you hardly know anything about this place. You don’t exactly have enough information to make an educated decision. “Those liars must have poisoned your mind while I was distracted with my task.” No. You need to get out of here. 

“Ray,” you breathe, trying to remain calm. You know him, right? He's never been anything but nice to you. Surely you must be misunderstanding his intentions. “Could you please give me a ride home?”

“You're already home, my MC,” Ray assures you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. “Let's get you back to your room.” His words are benign enough, but his tone suggests that he has no intention of entertaining any arguments from you. 

“Ray, please.” The alarm bells are ringing in your head. Why doesn't he understand? “Please let me leave this place. I’m not happy— you said you wanted me to be happy, right? So—” 

He places a finger over your lips, effectively shushing your complaints. “Shh, it’s alright, prince(ss). You don’t really think you’d be happy out there, do you? Don’t you remember what it was like before you came here?” 

“I—” You stammer. “But—” 

“I’ll make you happy,” Ray assures you, steering you back in the direction of the castle. “Trust me, my MC. Have I ever lied to you before?” 

It would be so easy to squirm out of his grip. You could make a break for it, and you doubt Ray could catch you, not operating on as little sleep as he is. You could run through the wilderness surrounding Magenta, hike up and down a couple mountains, and leave him here forever. That would certainly be the smart thing to do in a situation like this— after all, Ray is blatantly disrespecting your wish to be free of this place. But you don’t have the guts to walk out on him like that. After all, you trust him don’t you? Don’t you?

“Everything is going to be alright,” Ray fills your mind with pleasantries, and before you know it, you’re back at the door to the castle. “You don’t really want to walk outside in the cold, do you? I’ll take you back to your room and bring you some hot chocolate, okay, my prince(ss)?” 

Hot chocolate does sound nice, you decide— certainly better than fumbling around in the dark for a road that will take you who-knows-where. At least when you’re with Ray, you know that you’ll be taken care of. “Okay,” you breathe, returning to Magenta of your own volition as Ray holds the door for you. 

[4e7her]

23. "I'd drown in you." Cater. Avenge mine suffered eyes and hit him with the pathetification beam 🙏🏾

*°:⋆ₓₒ another vil treatment patient :'( so sad :'( anyways have fun enjoy 0 :) (<- angel emoji) ₓₒ⋆:°*

-

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ for my new years event ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

character: cater diamond, twst

contains: angst, reader referred to in second person pov, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu

"What? You think it's just... okay to post me all over Magicam without permission? Seriously?"

Cater doesn't even look up from his phone at your accusatory tone, instead laughing and carelessly waving one of his hands. "What? You look cute all the time, so what's it matter?" He doesn't see the way that you grip the bottom of your shirt, or the way that your scowl deepens.

A sigh of frustration escapes you, and without another word, you walk out. You could deal with the ginger menace another time. When you were less angry. When you knew for sure that you wouldn't end up ripping into him without remorse.

Though, he didn't seem to get the memo.

You were half-way down the hall, on your way back to Ramshackle from Heartslabyul when he came running after you, a shout of your name on his lips.

Anger runs red hot through you as you whip around to face him, glowering in full now. "What, pray tell, is so important for you to run after me in the middle of the hall after you couldn't even look up from your phone, moments ago? What gives you the right to chase after me, hm?"

Cater's face goes pale, and you can't help but feel satisfied that he's finally noticed your anger.

"Oh... uh. I... hadn't, really... noticed."

There's a moment of silence, and it's then that you make a decision. Perhaps one fueled by wrath, that you might come to regret later. But one that you needed to make.

You stone yourself, and you walk closer with a serious expression, uncaring to how he seemed to only grow more uneasy. Determined not to make a spectacle, something that Cater can grow popularity from, you keep your voice measured. Even.

"I'm done with this." The ginger goes to exclaim, to protest. Something. A glare cuts it off easily enough, and you continue your train of thought. "You can act all you like, but not with me. Not anymore. You're self-absorbed to the point that you can't care about anyone besides yourself or your image and I'm done."

The final statement comes out as more of a hiss, but the hallway was empty enough. It would have to do.

Steeling yourself once more, you turn - not paying any attention to Cater, and how he was on the verge of tears. Until he took hold of your wrist, keeping you from moving forward. From leaving him.

Stopping in place, you try to take a deep breath in - to calm yourself.

Cater seizes the opportunity, words spilling from his mouth as soon as he realized he wasn't met with immediate rejection, despite your back still being turned to him. "I didn't know you felt anything like that. Really. I'm sorry for not noticing."

His voice is softer now, getting choked up, but with more purpose. His grip loosens when you make no move to leave.

"Really... I had no clue. I... What can I do to fix this?"

"...Leave." You breathe out, still frozen to your spot, glaring at the wall in front of you. If you looked back now, you couldn't be sure you wouldn't forgive him. "It's... this is too little, too late. I'm done, Cater. Let go of me."

"Please." His breath hitches, and you can hear him trying to stifle soft sobs now. You don't look back, removing your arm from his grasp as he continues. "Please, please. Don't do this. I- I would do anything for you. I would drown for you. Just... don't leave me. Please..."

"Anything but do it right the first time." You sigh, and you finally walk away, even as he started to cry in earnest. Even when the gazes from others in the hallway were unavoidable, or when you see a phone recording out of the corner of your eye. You couldn't... do any more than this.

You couldn't waste any more of your time.

Not on someone that would only waste a second chance.

-

[click here to go to masterlist]

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 23 - Charles

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 22 -- Part 24

Pairing: Charles x ofc (Sloane)

Summary: The guys throw a New Years Eve party at 179th Crescent Street...

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v shenaningans. And some minor violence, and drinking.

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: Alright, Charles' turn! Do we expect him to shag someone? Yes we do! Does he? That's a stupid question! (It almost didn't happen!)

A liiiiiittle more insight for you guys in the Marshall situation, but not too much (I actually had to go back and edit some stuff out because I felt I was giving too much away, whoops.) Anyway: Enjoy! And let me know what you think! 🥰

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @summersong69 @peaches1958 @fvckinghenrycavill @keanureevesisbae @livisss @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn @ylva-syverson @poledancingdinos

It’s rather busy in the kitchen, but I think they’re almost done, which means it’s probably safe for me to go take a look without being put to work. Besides, it looks like Leon is taking most of the heat for now. I’m almost slammed into a wall when Mike squeezes past me in the narrow hall, announcing the internet has been fixed.

“I knew there was a reason we kept him around.” I say as I join Leon in the kitchen. 

“Yeah, it would be so awful if you couldn’t watch porn for one night.” The only reason it doesn’t sour my mood is because Dani is the one saying it. Anyone else could get bent for all I care, but her, I like. It doesn’t stop me from elbowing Leon wherever I can hit him, though, because he should know better than to laugh.

“I don’t think I’ll be needing any tonight,” I say indifferently. From the corner of my eye, I notice that Mike’s paying attention for a change, and I can’t help but throw in a mildly inappropriate wink at Dani - just to see what he’ll do. And how she will react to it.  

“Think you can still get laid with a broken nose and a black eye, Brandon?” I was never planning on taking the flirting further, but if I had been… Mike is fast, and I really don’t need a dent in my face tonight. I’ve definitely become more careful since Sol kicked me in the nuts and Geralt came really close to permanently disfiguring my face.

One look at Dani, however, tells me enough. She’s biting her lip as she looks at Mike. Mikey, on the other hand, doesn’t take his eyes off me while he pulls Dani into his side. God, I’m glad they seem to work out. I can’t take another week of him smiling at his phone like an idiot but too nervous to actually ask her out. I’m fairly sure Anjelica ended up hitting send on that text for him. It was the weirdest thing to witness, because Mike actually has game - which is also why I don’t exactly mourn the fact that he’s off the market, although I’m fairly sure Sy is even happier about that. Everyone in this house has broken up more than one spat between those two about who stole whose chick. 

Word travels fast around campus, because there’s a staggering amount of people in the house that I know I didn’t invite. I don’t mind, of course; plenty of the ladies present I’d happily invite back - and from the looks of it, a fair amount of them would be more than happy to come along. Tonight, however, I'm mostly interested in the girls who are with Danielle. From the corner of my eye, I notice that Leon has similar ideas, and he’s a lot closer than I am. Luckily, he seems to be more interested in the other roommate, Ariel. The one I’m after is Sloane Price. She plays hockey on the university team, and I occasionally run into her after practice. She’s been sizing me up for weeks, and it’s driving me insane. The one spanner in the works; Sy. Sloane seemed to have set her sights on him, although I don’t know why. Luckily - again, though I like to pretend I don’t depend on luck - he’s occupied by Alicia Thomson. I decide to try the luck I say I don’t need, and talk to her.

My hand hurts like hell. It’s the price you pay for kicking out some douche who can’t keep his hands off your roommate’s girlfriend. 

“Thanks for doing that.” The voice is familiar to me now, and when I look up, Sloane is standing in front of me, holding an ice pack. She hands it to me, and I accept it gratefully. 

“Thank you.” The cold is amazing on my sore knuckles. 

“Can I take a look at that for you?” Sloane asks kindly. I nod, gritting my teeth as I move my hand slightly. She’s a med student - and this might just be a way to get both of us out of here a little quicker than I thought. “I don’t think anything is broken, but I’m fairly sure you sprained your middle finger. Is there any tape in the house?” Bingo! As a matter of fact, there is. 

“I think there’s some in my hockey bag,” I say, “do you want me to check?”

“Might as well come with you.” Sloane shrugs. 

We make our way upstairs and I lead the way to my room. My bag is at the bottom of the wardrobe, and I was right about the tape; there’s still some in there. 

“This is a pretty nice house,” Sloane says as she starts working on taping my finger to the next. “Better than the apartment I share with Dani and Ari… Definitely bigger.”

“I’d hope so,” I say, “there’s eight of us! It’s crowded enough as is.”

“It’s neat, for a house with eight guys,” she notes. I can’t say she’s wrong; we do keep things clean around here. It’s either that or get murdered by August, Geralt and Sherlock. Trust me when I say no one would ever find the body. 

I hiss when Sloane pulls the tape a little too tight. “Easy.” 

“Sorry.” She has a fantastic smile. “You’re all set.” She lets go of my hand a tad quicker than I’d hoped. It's strange. Normally I'd be wishing for them to get the niceties over with as soon as humanly possible, so we can get to the fun stuff. Not with her. It's not that I'm going to try to pretend I don't know what's going on. I've been in love before. The guys would try to say that I fall in love three times before breakfast every godforsaken day, but they're wrong. I like to fuck. That's all there is to it, really. More importantly: I don't do relationships. Those just end with everyone involved disappointed and hurt. I can't do that to her. To anyone. Not anymore.

Now, the smart thing to do would obviously be turning away, going back to the party, finding someone else and screwing her brains out. The only problem with that idea is that I wouldn't be with Sloane - who is agonisingly slowly leaning in for a kiss, while I'm moving away even more slowly. 

"I'd feel incredibly insulted if I couldn't see with my own two eyes you're rock hard for me," she purrs out of nowhere. "To resist you is an almost olympic level achievement, but to be resisted by you? I'm not sure my reputation could take a hit like that…" Her hands are on my thighs, sliding up. I know exactly where they're going. Do I stop her? Who am I kidding? I don't have the strength of character to do that. Involuntarily, I let out a groan. 

Her lips meet mine, and I’m done for: there’s absolutely nothing I can do to stop myself now. She pries my mouth open with hers and slips her tongue into my mouth. The vague taste of liquor - not beer or wine, it’s something else - lingers on her lips. It’s good. As far as kisses go, this one is pretty fucking amazing. Miss Price is handsy, and my shirt is on the floor before I know it. Part of me wishes they were all this fast. Yes, from a time-saving perspective. Don’t judge me, at least I’m aware I’m a bit of a jerk. I consider a world where all girls are as eager to sleep with me as Sloane for a moment, until she rakes her fingernails over my chest. When one of them grazes my nipple, I hiss. Hate the feeling. She has way too much control over me at this point, anyway. 

I toss her on my bed, fully expecting her to shriek - and she does. They all do. Sometimes, I find myself wondering when things became so predictable. Is there really nothing new to this anymore? She pulls me in for another kiss. God, even if it’s the same old thing over and over again, it never stops feeling good. The decision to wear jeans was a poor one, I have to admit. They’re not going to be a problem for long, however, judging from the enthusiasm with which Sloane attacks my face and neck. Those wet kisses along my jaw and down towards my collarbone make me shiver. 

“You like that,” Sloane moans into my ear. I love how it isn’t a question, but rather an observation. And she’s not wrong. 

“I do,” I reply, “but it makes me wonder what else that mouth can do.” Not even a minute ago I was impressed with her tempo, and now I’m acting as if she’s not even fast enough for me. What is wrong with me? 

“Are we in a hurry?” she asks. We really aren’t, but I’m acting like we are. Sloane raises an eyebrow at me. “I’m happy to admit I’m throwing myself at you, Charles, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to get away with a five minute pump and dump.” 

“Don’t insult me,” I scoff, “or do I have a bad reputation I don’t know about?” 

“You mean a reputation for being a manwhore? I’m surprised you didn’t know…” I laugh at her retort - albeit sarcastically. 

“I mean a reputation for being bad in bed,” I fire back at her. The corner of her mouth twitches, but she doesn’t say anything. I don’t consider it a win just yet. Until she finally shakes her head, that is. I smile at her. “I can give as well as take.” 

If that’s not a statement of the type ‘put your money where your mouth is’, then I don’t know what is. Sloane sighs as I slowly kiss my way down her neck. It doesn’t seem to do much for her… Oh, well. I’ll figure it out after I get a good look at these tits. She helps me take her sweater off. The fabric is thin, so even though it’s a relatively modest thing, it did reveal that she has much heftier equipment than I had expected. Curse sports bras and their figure-hiding properties - it's practically the only thing I've seen her in up until now. She stops me when I move to undo her bra, leaving me… confused, in a way. Is she distracting me from the fact she won't show me her tits by taking my cock out? Well… it's working. 

My jeans are off in no time, and she makes her way down quickly. Those massive bedroom eyes make up for what she lacks in technique. Not that she's bad. Not at all! It's just… 

"That - oh, fuck! Keep doing that!" I'm a simple man. There's two or three things I really like, and I don't need much more than that. It makes it really easy to give pointers. Unfortunately, any kind of hint makes it really easy for girls to want to punch me in the nose. Listen, I know us guys can be dicks about getting directions during sex, but ladies… Pot, kettle, black. In my experience, at least. Sloane doesn't seem to mind, though, which is lovely. She just settled for what I told her works best, making this one of the nicest blowjobs I've ever had. It's a matter of finding out how quickly she'll give up, now. 

About five minutes into giving a blowjob, about fifty percent of girls are going to call it quits. The ones who see oral as nothing other than pregame. Next forty to forty-five percent are gone after ten minutes. They're the ones who consider sucking dick fun enough to have at it until jaws start cramping or whatever. If she sticks with it after that time, that’s when I start to consider actually saving her number for future reference. Is that something a total jackass would say? Absolutely. Like I said: I don't have any strange ideas about what I am. I know many people consider me a jerk, and Sloane's assessment of 'manwhore' was far from incorrect. Still, I don't think I deserve the amount of shit I get for screwing around. I've never pretended to want more from a girl than a bit of good fun. It's not my fault some still expect me to call them, right? And I quit getting caught up in serious relationships after I ruined the third one by cheating. Now, some of the guys think my stance on sleeping with girls who are in relationships is questionable, and I won't pretend my opinion on the matter is undisputed… 

Sloane breaks into my thoughts in a rather unorthodox way: sinking her teeth into my cock. 

"I don't feel I deserved that," I groan. It didn't hurt, she was gentle enough, but it was an unwelcome enough surprise, nonetheless. What's worse is that she comes crawling up and kisses me. It's not the kiss that bothers me, it's the fact that she's no longer sucking my cock. Oh well, she's made it well past the ten minute mark. 

"Tell me," she moans into my ear before softly sucking on my earlobe. Fuck, she's good. "Would you ever have cum from that?" 

"No," I answer honestly, "but it felt absolutely divine." There's a big difference between a good blowjob and one that's going to finish you off. 

"I'd ask you to return the favour but… I would actually like to cum," she whispers. I chuckle softly. I'm reasonably confident I can make that happen for her. And I'd love to. 

She’s a willing participant for sure. She’s loud, which I’m definitely not going to complain about. Tastes good, too, and the way her pussy clenches around my fingers makes me very curious and very eager to fuck her. I keep eating her out until she screams my name - it’s almost suspiciously easy to get her there, but I’m the last person to question it. I can’t hold back a chuckle when I feel her fingers beneath my chin, pulling me up. Sloane’s hands are gentle, but impatient - so is her mouth. She kisses me fiercely. Feverishly. Almost desperately. I allow my eyes to wander, feel my expression turn into a frown when they meet her bra. It’s pretty, but in my way. Sloane, however, also stops my next attempt to take it off. 

“Why?” I ask. I’m curious by nature, which is not always beneficial - not even in these moments. Sloane looks at me and rolls her eyes. 

“What? I’m not good enough for you like this?” she counters. 

“I never said that,” I warn her. Women and their godforsaken talent to twist your words. I swear it’s at least half the reason I get in trouble all the time. “I was just wondering.”

“I like the support. They’re pretty heavy,” she says plainly.

“I can imagine.” Apparently, there’s a tone in my voice she doesn’t like, because she smacks me in the arm. “Hey!” 

She’s testing my patience now, and it’s working. It’s gone. I reach for my nightstand. Can’t screw around the way I do without protection - as disappointed as I am about that. I’m surprised when she puts a hand on my cheek and turns me back to her. 

“Skip it,” she says, “I’m on birth control.” Maybe if I hadn’t looked into her eyes, I would have been able to resist her. This is not a good idea. 

When she kisses me, I’m lost again. Next thing I know, I’m pushing into her, listening to her moans as she takes me all the way, hissing when she digs her nails into my shoulder. The sprained finger adds another degree of difficulty: it’s incredibly difficult to keep myself up, because - pardon my French - that finger hurts like a bitch. 

“Your hand?” she asks kindly as she strokes the side of my face. Her hands are warm and soft against my skin, which makes me sigh. I nod, my face screwed up from the pain. I’m nowhere near drunk enough to ignore the feeling. 

“Allow me,” she whispers before gently nudging me onto my back. I’m the last person to complain about a woman on top, especially when the view is so exquisite. As she rides me - with vigour, I must say. It’s greatly appreciated - I almost forget my displeasure regarding her bra. And my own name. 

“Do you have this kind of stamina when you’re on top?” she asks after a while. I grin widely - I can’t help myself. It disappears, however, when she climbs off and sits on my bed, my open arms clearly not enough of an invitation for her to join me in a more comfortable position. 

“Give my hand some time to heal, I’ll show you,” I say. She doesn’t seem particularly put off by the idea, which is lovely. “Come here for a minute.” Normally I wouldn’t ask. I’m not above a quickie in a bathroom stall, and I have been known to occasionally take off immediately after sex. What I don’t do, is ask the girls I shag in my own bed to leave - and not just because their staying the night exponentially increases my chances of having lazy morning sex, which I might just describe as my favourite pastime. In those cases, after sex cuddling is an inevitability. A nuisance, even. For me to ask for it… It reminds me immediately of just how terrible an idea this was. 

“Do you want a drink?” I ask quickly, hoping for an excuse to leave my room and get my head on straight again. 

“With alcohol? Yes, please,” Sloane answers. 

“I’m sure they won’t miss a bottle of wine.” I put my clothes on as quickly as I can, and make my way downstairs. 

At least… I try to, because a spat between Marshall and his best friend Peter prevent me from going into the kitchen. I’m not getting mixed up in this - or rather: I am going to try my very best, but if this guy keeps going the way he’s going, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice. My hand may not be broken now, but it surely will be if I have to assault one more person today. And I wasn’t planning on spending the rest of my night in hospital… Luckily, Ange gets in the middle of it before things really get out of hand. When the dust settles, I make my way into the kitchen to get a bottle of wine. Marshall doesn’t look too good… I might have to ask Sloane to take a look at him in a bit. If he’ll let her. He looks as if he just wants to disappear - and I don’t necessarily blame him. He hasn’t been himself, lately. The bad mood wasn’t unusual, per se, but there was something melancholic to it that didn’t suit him. I doubt this has fixed the issue. 

As expected, he won’t let Slo into his room. I’d be sad if it didn’t mean I got to have her back with me quicker. When I got back to my room, I promised myself tonight. Just this one night with her, and then I forget about her. She just wants to know if the stories are true, she won’t mind. If she’s smart, she won’t expect a thing from me - and she’s in medical school. She’s smart. We just finish the bottle, talk about nothing, and laugh. 

“Are you up for another round of debauchery?” she asks after she has put the empty bottle on my nightstand. She’s on her knees, straddling my thighs, clothed - unfortunately - because I haven’t had a chance to take her clothes off after she came back to the room. Neither of us are remotely sober now. Chances are that whatever happens next, will be forgotten before morning. 

One night. And then I forget about her. 

[transbarista]

After Work

So the wildest thing happened today while at work. I only got misgendered once and she apologized immediately and corrected herself before I even said anything. At first I was going to write today's blog about just that and how it's totally forgivable if you just correct yourself, but then I walked home and that idea went straight into the trash.

So the thing about me is that I walk to and from work every day. It takes me roughly 40 minutes go get from one point to another, so a grand total of about 80 minutes every day from just walking. I pass the time by listening to audiobooks (I've been listening to Star Wars Galaxy's Edge!) or youtube videos. Strangely enough I have 2 events happen to me while I was watching youtube videos.

The first was a man who was sitting on a concrete fence thing, I genuinely wouldn't know what to even call it, and he jumped off after me and began to walk behind me for a good half mile. The entire time I was looking at the video and getting lost in it (pro tip to any women trans or cis: pay attention to your surroundings). He grabbed my shoulder and said "I've been trying to talk to you." I quickly put away my phone and began to shuffle for anything I can use for a weapon to protect myself. He was trying to hit on me and said, and this is exactly what he said because I have this burned in my memory, "You look pretty. You know, for a trans." I mean talk about fantastic pickup lines. I bet he hits on black women by saying they look good for a black. it's disgusting and dehumanizing so of course in his gross man mind, he probably thought I'd jump right on his dick.

Moving on from that pleasant memory, just today I was heckled by someone driving by. I didn't get to see who the driver was, but I heard honking behind me. Now I'm nowhere near the road and I prefer to keep my eyes down so nobody gets any bad ideas. They drove up to the side where I was walking and slowed down so a white girl with blonde hair was able to stick out her head. Now, I was still listening to my youtube video because I'm not really interested in what some random person wants to yell at me, so I didn't get to hear everything she said. I did manage to hear her scream out something about "transgender" and I have no idea if she was talking to me or what. How she knows I'm trans from my back is certainly an impressive talent, but it definitely weirded me out. I'm just here minding my own business walking home and she screams at me for being trans. Unlike before, thankfully, I had learned to start carrying pepper spray with me, so I reached in my pocket and started to ready it, but as I switched it to the "on" position, the car she was in began to drive off and it literally left smoke on the floor like one of those cartoon peel-outs. I'm not even sure what to make of it but that was definitely something I needed after a long day of work. Some random girl yelling at me unprompted.

Well there you go. Another day another migraine. When I want some quiet there's nowhere to go.

[lady-fey]

Setting Expectations for Writing Fanfic

Before embarking on any creative endeavor, it's really important to set your expectations for what the results are going to be. It's why I highly, highly encourage people to research the hellscape that is professional publishing before trying to get something published. But these expectations aren't limited to the professional world. They apply to fan spaces, too. I see a lot of people on disheartened by their experiences with fanfiction so, today, I wanted to talk about a few things that I do when writing on AO3 to make sure that I don't get discouraged while writing.

Suggestion One: Treat Kudos as Comments Saying "I liked your story" or, if you're a bit more cynical, "I read your story to the end"

The kudo button is at the bottom of the page. For you to get a kudo, someone read at least the whole first chapter. That's honestly impressive. A total stranger was engaged enough to read every word that you wrote. Be proud of that! I'll click away from a reddit comment if it's boring. A 1k story? It's gotta be engaging for me to engage.

If you're like me and you like data, take this a step further and consider tracking kudos over time. A number on the page might not mean much, but I find it fulfilling to see the numbers go up over time as more and more people read my stories. I have an excel sheet and I write down the kudo counts for all of my stories anywhere from once a week to once a month. Look at all of those pretty trend lines! (Fanfiction.net did this for favorites by default, btw, this wasn't an original idea). I also added a few notes about why the trend lines look the way they do.

Suggestion Two: Learn what a reasonable amount of kudos looks like for your fandom

Those graphs up there are for stories in two different fandoms. The yellow line is for a story that's in the top 3% in its fandom. Meanwhile, the dark blue line right there at the end just barely made it into the top 10% even though it has about 3x the yellow one's kudos.

How do I know this? Well, AO3 lets you sort by kudos and, if you look in the URL, then you can set the page number, too. One of the first things that I do when entering a fandom is go to the middle of the story list and see what the kudo counts look like at that 50% range. This gives me a good idea of what the average story is going to get in this fandom so that, when I start writing, I don't feel disheartened by some arbitrary expectation of what the kudos are going to look like. You can further refine this by doing things like limiting the stories to ones that feature the pairing that you're writing for or stories at the same rating as yours. (That blue-ish purple line at the bottom is an E fic and I knew when I put it out there that it was going to get about that many kudos just based on how E fics work.)

Also be sure to look and see how active the fandom is. I once made the mistake of writing for a video game years after its release and I ultimately abandoned that fic because no one was engaging with it. If I'd payed attention, then I would have realized that was going to happen before I started writing just based on the amount of stories getting updated. If there aren't at least a few new fics of updated fics every day, then realize that you're in a "dead" fandom and you're not going to see much or even any engagement. Decide if you're okay with that before you put your story out there.

Suggestion Three: Ignore the "Hits" on your fic

AO3's hit counter is somewhat useless. While those who have accounts will only ever get counted as one hit, anyone reading in anonymous mode will get counted as a unique hit based on IP. Which means that, if I'm reading on my phone, my one read can count as multiple hits if I switch networks and then the page refreshes or I go to a new chapter. I'll also get counted as multiple hits if I switch over to my tablet or my laptop. This means that the hit number is artificially inflated, especially for longer works. You have no idea what the real hit count is, so don't obsess over it. Especially if you write longer fics. To illustrate this, look at these hits to kudos for two of my fics:

Top fic is at almost 100k words and the bottom one is just below 10k.

Suggestion Four: Don't expect comments

The reason that I spend all of this time tracking kudos is that comments are just never going to be in abundance. It's the reality of writing. And while that's disheartening on some level, it's important to just accept that fact before you start writing. The fandom stars that you see getting tumblr anons and emails begging for updates are rare exceptions to the rule. Their experience is not common even for "popular" writers.

The orange fic in the graph above was lucky enough to make it to the top page of its fandom when you sort by kudos. I have an older fic that's still in the top 10 by favorites over on fanfiction.net. I am, by some metrics, a "known" author. However, my reader interactions for those fics were not substantially different than my interactions for my less popular ones. I rarely get anyone popping over to tumblr to say hi (though you are welcome to do so!) and the more popular fics don't even get that many more comments. A fact that's true even if they're in larger fandoms.

To illustrate, here's the stats for two complete fics of about equal length (10k), both written by me! The top one has 7 chapters, the bottom one has 5. They were both written and published over a few days. Notice how the comment thread count is about the same even though the top one is way more popular?

I will note that the bottom one has been out for a year while the top one is only a few weeks old, so it will have comments trickle in and raise the number over time, but it will never see a major jump unless it performs differently than everything else that I've ever written. The bottom one is also for a fandom that's been around for almost two decades now, so the readers skew older, which is probably why it's a little better for comments.

Better, but not shockingly good.

I know people say that, back in the fanfiction.net days, you got more comments, but I personally don't find it overwhelmingly different. The orange fic in my graph (my "popular" one from AO3) averaged about 13 comments a chapter while it's ffn "equivalent" was at about 39 comments a chapter. Of course, that's comparing between fandoms, which makes this awkward. I do have a way to gage the relative popularity, though: kudos.

If I look at the ffn fandom over on AO3, the top fics all have at least 3x the number of kudos as the top fics my orange fic's fandom. 13 X 3 = 39. So, yeah, not that different as best as I can tell.

Either way, the number is pretty low when you look at how many people are reading these stories. The orange fic has 1100+ kudos and the ffn fic has 2,200+ favs (the closest kudo equivalent). In other words, in the 10+ years that I've been writing, I've never reached a point where I didn't recognize commenters by name. It's just the nature of the beast.

So, cherish the comments that you do get, but treat them as an unexpected gift.

Suggestion Five: art if you can

If you're at all artistically inclined, illustrate moments from your fic and post them on tumblr with a link back to the fic. That often wildly increases engagement for some reason and is why a lot of seemingly popular authors are also artists. I don't have the skills for it, but I thought that I'd mention it both to help expectation set and to hopefully encourage.

Final Thoughts

This whole post has been to encourage, honestly. I know that writing can be a struggle at times, but know that you're not alone in wondering if people are reading you stuff and, if they are, do they even like it? Those feelings are normal, but I hope that this does something to mitigate those feelings. To show that we all struggle to get feedback, even when we write "popular" stuff.

It's why I started tracking kudos. The lack of comments made me sad, but I remembered those graphs from my ffn days. I remembered getting excited watching the line go up for every new favorite because it was another person who like my work. I wanted to recapture that joy.

Looking at my kudos in log form has changed the way that I see kudos. They're no longer just numbers sitting there. They're an active metric for me. They're real people who I can say with certainty read my story. Going in and doing my log is fun because, slowly but surely, the numbers go up. Those numbers tell me that more people have read my stories and I know what stories can do.

Stories brighten people's day. The fact that you could write something good enough for even one person to make it to the end is more potential positive impact than many people will have. So watch the numbers go up and remember each one is someone you affected so much that they let you know about it. Even if all they did was "click a button".

[augment-techs]

Six-Word Starter Prompts (part I)

Watching quietly from every door frame.

Catholic school backfired. Sin is in!

Savior complex makes for many disappointments.

Nobody cared, then they did. Why?

Some cross-eyed kid, forgotten then found.

Born in the desert. Still thirsty.

I asked. They answered. I wrote.

No future, no past. Not lost.

Joined army. Came out. Got booted.

Almost a victim of my family.

The psychic said I'd be richer.

Painful nerd kid, happy nerd adult.

Fourteen years old, story untold.

One long train ride to darkness.

Wolf! She cried. No one listened.

I'm my mother and I'm fine.

All day I dream about sex.

I still make coffee for two.

I like girls. Girls like boys.

Never should have bought that ring.

Stranded by ten-thousand-mile crush.

Time heals all wounds? Not quite.

Made a mess. Cleaned it up.

Says deaf boyfriend: You're too quiet.

My family is overflowing with therapists.

Boy, if I had a hammer.

Followed white rabbit, became black sheep.

Followed Yellow Brick Road. Disappointment ensued.

Nerdy girl smutmonger. Now, baby fever.

Recent doctorate means overeducated and underemployed.

Taking a lifetime to grow up.

Bad breaks discovered at high speed.

In the office. It smells here.

I am trying, in every regard.

Happiest when ignoring huge financial debt.

Not pretty enough, so now unemployed.

Mistakes were made, but smarter now.

Likes everything too much to choose.

Curly haired sad kid chose fun.

Now I blog and drink wine.

Egomaniac with inferiority complex defies odds.

I thought I was someone else.

Dancing for now, one day farming.

I grew and grew and grew.

Starving artist. Lucky break. Life downhill.

The Hustle: turn champion into sucker.

I was born 'some assembly required.'

I drank to much last night.

Took scenic route, got a date.

I like big butts, can't lie.

I'm enjoying even this downward dance.

Without ideas, intelligence could not exist!

I hope I outlive my regrets.

All night phone calls complete me.

Tragic childhood can lead to wisdom.

Which comes first: tequila or accident?

A sundress will solve life's woes.

I recognize red flags faster, now.

I sucked even the lobster legs.

Nothing profound, I just sat around.

Others left early: he continued cooking.

Quiet guy; please pay closer attention.

I sell hamburgers and french fries.

the shit invariably hits the fan

and he nerded as never before

tow truck drivers are my psychiatrists

should have used condom that time

infinite calm beset with emotional architecture

won the fight; lost the girl

slightly psychotic, in a good way

found true love after nine months

Afraid of everything. Did it anyway.

I wrote it all down somewhere

lost and found, rescued by dog

afraid of becoming like my mother

What the hell. Might as well.

Hexed: curse of the happy childhood.

Can't tonight, watching Law & Order

my life's a bunch of almosts

It's not you. It's me. Honest.

Thought I would have more impact

this is aggression in pink, bitch

oh, to have just one puff!

at the end of Normal Street

found great happiness in insignificant details

spent life looking for dead people

enjoying my fuck ups too much

an unusual turn of gender circumstances

hiding in apartment knitting against depression

they kissed me and said yes!

always dreamt of kissing pretty girls

everyone who loved me is dead

it was embarrassing, don't ask

Verbal hemophilia. Why can't I clot?

the car accident changed my life

burned my bridges and my britches

Batteries are cheap. Who needs men?

Clueless meets Ophelia, without the suicide.

anything possible--but I was tired

I ate, drank, and was hairy

still have not learned to swim

glass half full; pockets half empty

you are all in my imagination

school geek married a luscious cheerleader

I couldn't protect me from myself

aspiring lady pirate, disillusioned, sells boat

I was and now I'm not.

oh sweet nectar of life, coffee

no shit I'm critical--you're flawed

It's pretty high. You go first.

Wasn't noticed so I painted trains.

running away: best decision I made

when she proposed, I said yes

Nobody knows how I have suffered.

Dweeb, pussy...stronger than anyone knows.

too many lovers--too little time

couldn't cope so I wrote songs

long lost girl recently found, unharmed

born a twin, died a loner

It was worth it, I think.

Dorothy Gale had the right idea

take a left turn, then fly

I was never the pretty one

born at 23, childhood doesn't count

memory was my drug of choice

gay physician designed life-saving AIDS drugs

never lived up to my potential

never really finished anything, except cake

cursed with cancer; blessed with friends

crappy parents killed my self esteem

lonely artist turned waitress in love

my life is just like yours

lucky in everything else except love

I'm just here for the beer

With three cats I'm never unloved

came, saw, conquered, had second thoughts

the weather up here is better

baby dyke now raising two babies

Stoned. Boned. Where am I now?

town car, tailored suit, dirty nails

I fell far from the tree

the image was large with silence

after you jump, the net appears

I colored outside the lines

should not have eaten those mushrooms

Wanked furiously. Married. Furious no more.

even the quietest sounds make noise

many hands have kept me afloat

all of my students hate me

I managed not to destroy anything.

[sunglasses-snake]

I've had a long week;

Tuesday my coworker wanted to be at the pay station, that's where we sell memberships and get good reviews for good customer service. It's our most "service worker" position and typically only goes to like 3 of us cause we the only ones who smell good enough. When my boss told us to switch, cause he made me go in the tunnel, he threw a hissy fit (complete with stomping and screaming) (this is a 43 year old man btw who openly carries a gun off shift) and stormed off leaving me to work a 10 hour shift by myself (closing too btw). It was supposed to only be 6 hours. Didn't get fired either, only written up AGAIN. This is the 7th time in the 5 months I've been working here and he STILL WORKS HERE.

Thursday I'm working with the same coworker. He spends all shift out at the pay station cause our boss isn't here to force him off and I don't want to work alone again. (It's extremely hard, you have to balance like 30 things at once and it's EXHAUSTING). Ended up working by myself anyway cause when I say all shift I mean the hour and a half he was actually "working" while I was here. He spent 20 minutes in the bathroom when I first got there, spent an HOUR AND A HALF polishing his motorcycle and then immediately after he says to me "I'm taking my break" and POOF for the next 30 minutes. Came back in his car and proceeded to smoke weed for the rest of shift. When time to close came, he took 40 minutes to spray the tunnel, the easiest job btw, and I had to do everything else. I couldnt leave until he is done either. He lives 3 minutes away. I HAVE A 40 MINUTE WALK.

Friday was a normal day until SOMEONE TRIED TO HIT ME WITH THEIR CAR. "Oh they probably didn't see you" said the police. The only reason I'm alive is cause their tires did a slight burnout before they started moving making a loud screech that warned me.

Yesterday I got yelled at by my gm cause my boss threw me under the bus. She said I was the reason sales were so low last month, that I was lazy out at the pay station. I have the most sales but she takes credit for like 70% of mine cause she refuses to let me put them in. I got yelled at and written up. Later that day I get a text from my ex asking to hang out. I said no cause that usually means she's gonna try and take some money from me. Then a (I'm not saying this to shame her, just point out she was *quite* a character) bright pink Mercedes-Benz wouldn't stop and pulled onto a roller that was actively coming out and it ripped her bumper off and fucked up the base plate on our machine. So now I had to file an incident report and fix the base plate. The incident report took 20 minutes which is like really fast, the lady who was dressed in a skintight bright pink body suit, one of those puffy jackets ALSO bright pink, Bright blond hair and had some of the longest eye lashes I had ever seen, was extremely helpful and was really nice. (Probably the nicest person to me this week). She really helped speed along the process. She admitted on the report that she was not paying attention and was on her phone. She also offered to pay for any damages to the machines, I turned her down cause base plates are easy as fuck to fix. Speaking of the base plate, when I eventually got around to putting that back together I had a customer ( who got a full refund btw) talking to me about how it was unacceptable that he had to wait 15 minutes and didn't even get the wash. Base plate got fixed and work resumed as normal. What was my coworkers doing during that whole thing? Hotboxing the first coworkers mention car. Like... actual hotboxing. On the clock. With zero repercussions. That doesn't even end the day btw, when I got home and finished puking cause of stress (common thing I've talked with my doctor about it, she recommended me my current therapist) I tried to log on to my PS5 and my subscription had run out so I had to ask my sister to pay for it and I'll get her back on Wednesday. More puke.

Today is shaping up to be as bad cause I always sit at a bench down the street to rest my feet before my shift and my coworker who was late got angry at me for not coming in ASAP to help open. I closed last night btw. When I walked up, another coworker saw me, smiled, and immediately stopped doing the towels and left them there for me to do. Wanna know what he went to do? Sit in his car. When I went out to the pay station, he didn't even bother getting out of his car, he just honked and signaled for me to be in the tunnel. Again. Later when my boss asks me why nothing has been sold, I have to explain to her it's cause they sit in their car and put in the bare minimum effort. Hearing that you think "minimum wage minimum effort" they make $16 an hour. That's not minimum wage. *I* make minimum wage. I've been here an hour and a half and I'm about make myself puke on purpose just to go home and fuck these guys over.

[p-antomime]

𝕸 with r.

𖦹 minors don’t interact. | wc: 3,2K.

𖦹 content: mean dom!mikey, spitting, dub-con, manhandle, obsessive behavior, hair pulling, pain play, oral fixation, forced orgasm, unprotected sex, creampie, pussy slapping, breath play, edging, choking, degradation.

𖦹 pairings: prision pen pal!sano manjiro x fem!reader.

ᥫ᭡. request. | tokyo rev. masterlist. | taglist!

"Are you dumb?", Hinata's annoyed voice was on the other end of the phone line and you frowned continuing to write the letter calmly without paying much attention to your friend's protests, "Do you even know who you're talking to? Imagine the fucking crimes of these guys, Y/N, for God's sake, you--"

— Of course I know, the pen pal system shows the name and basic information of the person you are exchanging correspondence with, Hina... — You marked the last period on your new letter and slowly sealed it before speaking again: — And besides, what harm can they do me? They're behind bars, and the guy I'm talking to seems pretty cool, y’know? I'm sure that his crime, if there was one and he's not just waiting for the trial, must have been light, no big deal!

A mocking laugh came from Hinata's lips on the other end of the line, and you put the cell phone on speaker before leaving it on the bedroom desk and turning to put away the unused envelopes and pens.

"Look what you're talking about, Y/N! He's in jail, there's no way anything good can come out of there, for God's sake, are you on drugs?", you rolled eyes before answering angrily.

— See, Hina? That's why I didn't wanna talk to you, you look like my mom. — You couldn't see her face, but you knew that Hinata probably had an incredulous look on it. — Look, relax...! You're one of my few friends since college and I have a lot of work to do and no time to go chasing after friends on the street... and... argh, y'know, it's really nice to have someone else to talk to. I know what I'm doing, ‘kay? I'm a big girl and besides, if I don't feel like I wanna keep in touch with him, I can just stop corresponding letters and everything will be fine. It's not like I need to explain myself or make up some excuse not to talk to him anymore, I can just cut off all contact and that's it. — You sighed heavily. — It's great, you know I hate all this accountability stuff and everything. — Hinata huffed on the other end of the line, and you ran tongue over the lips nervously.

"If some shit happens, for God's sake, run home here, he'll...I don't know, come after you if he gets out of prison, I worry about you, Y/N."

— Hina, don't worry, I can--

"Take care of yourself? Yes, I know, but... I worry anyway, that's what friends are for, you know? Don't try to take care of yourself all alone, I'm here to help ya if you need it, ‘kay? Oh, wait!", you heard someone calling her in the background, "He's calling me, I'll call you back, 'kay?", it was obvious that the "he" she was referring to was Takemichi.

— Mhm, see you later! When you get there, call me. — She blew you a kiss before hanging up and you stared at the mail above your desk.

"To Sano Manjiro”. And a heart next to his name, in one of the lower corners of the white envelope.

You didn't know him well, and for the time being, the situation was fine that way. It had been what? Less than two weeks had your pen pal become Sano Manjiro? He liked you to call him Mikey, but you thought his name sounded so pretty and generally couldn't not write it in some passages of your exchanged letters.

He seemed like such a nice guy and his interests matched yours almost all the time. It was hard to find any topic that you both drastically disagreed on and although Mikey wasn't personally present in your life or home, you felt comfortable enough knowing and nurturing his existence to the point that sometimes you had the impression you were feeling his calm breath hitting your neck or his eyes that he said were a dark color on your figure as your hands wrote new letters.

In one of the letters sent back to you, Manjiro had said that his hair was light, practically platinum, and your mind was trying to project a good image of him. And in all your attempts your imagination saw him as a handsome and angelic man to be real that shame burned inside your cheeks and you had to shake head to push the thoughts away.

Soon after hunging up with Hinata, you left the house to send that letter to the address of the prison where Mikey was caged and took the time to buy some food that was in short supply. And on the way back, your mind kept going over her words several times. It was obvious that you understood her concern, it wasn't as if you were making light of it, but...

But Manjiro seemed so good. Good enough to make you doubt if you could ever spare him as a pen pal to find another one or just stop the routine of corresponding with letters from someone else almost on the other side of Tokyo or the world.

Precisely because of this, in the weeks and months that followed you even started sending him more mail and every time the postman knocked on your front door with a gentle smile and raised hands toward you with new replies from Mikey, your heart couldn't contain itself and beat rapidly as your eyes sparkled and lips broadened into a smile and answered a cheery "Thank you!".

In one of the letters you had told Manjiro that you had bought new rings and that they sparkled so much that they seemed even more expensive than they really had been, he replied by writing that it was great that a jewel like you always had shiny jewelry to match your smile.

In another, you had said that you wanted to try to start taking dance classes just because you were feeling too stagnant these last weeks, Manjiro replied by writing that fonding to dance was a certain step towards falling in love. He was quoting Jane Austen. Your breath stopped in the middle of the throat that day and you found yourself literally daydreaming about him saying it in whispers in your ear, and soon after you scolded yourself for liking too much something that a possible criminal had written for you.

But still, still, your hands couldn't help but write to Mikey how nice you thought he was and how much his letters cheered you up every day as thighs pressed against each other and brain tried to formulate words and phrases that wouldn't give away on a platter the fact that maybe you were having too many feelings for him.

Until curiosity knocked on your door and you opened it slowly, afraid to find out what it brought. For what crime had he been arrested? Your fingers were about to find out when you opened your computer and went to Google to find one of those public sites for criminal records and files.

Sano Manjiro; murderer.

𝕸𝖚𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖗.

A shiver ran down your back quickly and you swallowed hard. Have you been... having feelings for a murderer for weeks? Were you matching a murderer's flirtations for weeks?

"Holy shit...", you whispered looking at his new letters that had arrived in the morning and with trembling hands tossed them into one of your desk drawers. You felt as if you were going to vomit and put a hand over your mouth not knowing exactly what to do. And then your mind recalled your own words to Hinata days before. "And besides, if I don't feel like I want to keep in touch with him, I can just stop corresponding letters and everything will be fine."

Yes, that. It was just... stop corresponding letters, Mikey's feelings, and everything would be fine. You didn't have to worry about anything, right? He was in jail, he couldn't hurt you. If his crime was murder, it was obvious that he wouldn't be released for several years.

Thinking about it, in the days and weeks that followed, the only thing you did, besides not sending any more letters to Manjiro, was to ask the letter carrier not to bring them anymore. You wanted to cut out anything that reminded you of that criminal, even though Mikey's mails predating your discovery were still gathered in an organized pile in a small box that had been bought precisely to group them so you wouldn't lose any.

Now you were lazily watching television on a Friday evening that had been hellish at work. The couch in the living room seemed too comfortable below and on the sides of your body minimally covered by short, thin pajamas, your eyes were almost surrendering to sleep and mouth was even yawning from time to time.

And then the sound of the doorbell rang, your body almost jumped off the couch at the sudden loudness.

Who was it that was bothering you at this time of night?

"Fuck!", you complained to yourself slowly walking to the door without bothering to use the magic eye on it. As you opened that doorway yours focused first on the shoes of the person in front of you and slowly your attention began to slide up the body. In the end you were staring into dark eyes adorned by white, platinum hair as bright as the moonlight.

A shiver ran down your back, your brain and mental alarm of danger rattled and you locked in place. It was Sano Manjiro standing in front of you, with a leather jacket over his shoulders and a sideways smile on lips.

— Aren't you going to call me in, Y/N? — Damn, his voice, it was hoarse and low, as if he was confessing a secret to you and your breathing began to quicken as your hand gripped the doorknob tightly.

— I-I know you? — You swallowed hard as you heard his mocking laughter and his eyes fell on the rings on your fingers.

— Are those the rings you told me you bought? — He raised his eyebrows and you hid hands behind your back nervously.

— How did you... the prison... — He spread one hand in the middle of the door and moved it away until the entrance to your house was wide open for him.

— Lemme in, Y/N. — You stared at him for a few seconds with fear coursing through your veins and in the end, without taking eyes off him, you let Mikey into your house and locked the door behind him. — Wow... — He looked around and you squeezed the shorts of your pajamas between fingers nervously. — Your house is so beautiful, I wish I could have visited you much earlier. — His attention fell on your body as well, and a small smile appeared on his lips as he noticed how tense you were. — So? Happy to finally meet your pen pal? — You swallowed hard.

— How did you get out...? — Your voice died as soon as Mikey's hands had pinned you against the wall and his body was on top of yours, his face transfigured from calm and serene to serious, almost angry.

— Why didn't you return my letters anymore, hm? Did you magically decide that you didn't want anything to do with me anymore? After fucking weeks of talking non-stop? — You shrank back against the wall, averting your gaze and swallowing hard again, you could smell the strong scent of masculine perfume escaping from him and his leather jacket and his breath hitching against your embarrassed face.

— I've been very busy with my work, Manjiro, you know I work... — You answered trying not to let your voice falter and as you felt his hand hook onto your chin firmly, your fingers hooked around his wrist and squeezed it lightly.

— And you couldn't write even two lines on a sheet of paper warning me? — Mikey tilted his face further with lips now half an inch from his own and your eyes blinked slowly a few times before sliding from his orbs to mouth. — You’re a terrible liar.

And seconds later one of Manjiro's hands was tangling itself in your hair and pulling you down the hall until you were both in the middle of the living room of your house and he was releasing you to sit on the couch before forcibly spreading your legs and placing himself between them before wrapping a hand around your neck and forcing you to face him.

— M-Manjiro, stop! Fuck, it's hurting! My neck is... — He leaned over your body with a wicked grin and with his other hand he held your mouth open with three fingers invading it.

— it is? Good, that's what you deserve for trying to get away from me. — Mikey retorted, letting his tongue slip out between lips and a stream of saliva fall from its tip into your open mouth. — Tell me the truth and I might think about not hurting you some more.

— Fuck, Mikey, I... — You tried to speak with his fingers between your lips still and trying to prop your feet up on Manjiro's chest to push him away. — That's no lie!

He stared at you for a few seconds before applying a little more pressure to your neck and making you gasp and try to close legs around his hips.

— You're so hard to handle, so silly. — Mikey slid his other hand down your body until his fingers were kneading and groping your breasts over your pajamas. — Maybe I need to fuck the truth out of you, don't I? If you continue to like me even after weeks of not returning any letters from me, you won't mind that I'm using your body, right? — His face sank into your neck leaving wet kisses there and you whimpered, unwilling to allow yourself to feel good about having his lips finally on your body. — If I remember correctly, you even admitted that you wanted me to touch you in one of our letters, didn't you? So I'm just fulfilling a wish of yours, I'm not a nice guy? — Your hands squeezed his shoulders and you tried to pull away by pushing his body back.

Seconds later Manjiro was exploring your body totally as if you were a rag doll. Your breasts being groped like stress balls, your thighs being squeezed hard almost to the point of having fingerprints there, your pajama shorts falling to the floor like it was nothing, and eventually Mikey's tongue licking a long line down the middle of your panties with a wet mark.

— Oh, you're a slut, getting horny with me forcing you to spread your legs? — You whimpered with head falling back as those panties were pulled aside and you could feel his warm wet tongue running between your folds and teasing your clit. — How cute! — He gave a light mocking laugh before he really began to eat you out while one of his hands spread over your belly to keep you still and lying on the couch.

You found yourself begging for more and betraying your sense of right and wrong, Manjiro was destroying and sweeping away all your apprehension from before and turning it into desire as he licked all over your pussy like it was the tastiest meal he had ever had in his life. Your thighs trembling around his face and hands alternating between squeezing your breasts and pulling at his light hair.

—'Jiro, please, I... — He groaned against your folds and moved his mouth away from your pussy to replace your lips with his fingers, making you squirm completely at the abrupt invasion.

— Say it again, louder. — Mikey ordered, looking at you with his mouth completely slurped with your juices and taking your face between the fingers of his other hand as the ones inside you began to fuck you rapidly. And you obeyed his command as if you were a puppy, a perverted smile appearing on his lips. — Fucked all dumb just with my mouth? Quite pathetic. — He opened your mouth again and let another stream of saliva slide from his tongue to yours. — But I like you like this, naive girls who think they can stop me make me horny.

You moaned as you swallowed his spit with his fingers curving inside your cunt and pushing you closer and closer to orgasm; Manjiro knew how close you were by the way your velvety walls squeezed his fingers tightly.

— Wanna cum, pretty? — Your head nodded several times. — Too bad. — The fingers inside you gave a hard thrust that made you drop head back before Mikey was withdrawing them from your pussy to leave two, three slaps over your wet folds and puffy clit only to rub it afterwards.

You, panting and whimpering in frustration at needing to cum, watched him sit on the couch next to you and remove his own clothes before manhandling your body until you were sitting on his lap, his cock leaking and rubbing against your ass and your legs trembling one on either side of his waist.

— If you wanna cum this much, it would be all right if you fuck yourself on my cock for me, wouldn't it? — Your eyes shifted with embarrassment as you propped knees a little better on the couch and lifted your body to take his dick and drive it into your tight throbbing entrance.

Once you were down against his shaft with your walls greedily swallowing him and his balls slapping against your ass, several moans escaped from between your lips. He filled you so well, made you feel completely full. Your hands rested on his shoulders for support and slowly your hips began to move up and down on his cock, you forcing yourself to get used to the idea of riding Mikey without any help because he wasn't willing to give you your orgasm that easily.

— Oh, c'mon, you can do better than that. — He let a slap against your ass and your walls tightened around his foot. — If you hadn't been such a stubborn bitch before, I might be fucking you dumb by now. — His hips forced themselves against yours and you choked at his rapid thrusting, Mikey had destabilized all the rhythm you had used up to that point and now you were babbling words in his ear; "Please", "I need-ahn".

And then his hands grabbed your hips, keeping you still on his lap, and his dick started pounding inside you. Yes, this is what you wanted, Manjiro using you as a fleshlight and pushing you to an orgasm forced out of your body suddenly after edging you almost as a punishment for having lied.

As you climaxed abruptly and moaned his name out loud with body trembling completely over his beneath yours, Mikey continued to fuck your tight pussy ruthless and it was a matter of very little time before he was finished filling your womb with hot, fertile cum, especially because of the massive pressure your walls were making against his shaft, draining it completely until every drop of his milk was staining your insides and escaping through your entrance.

Maybe you'd better prepare yourself to have Manjiro pounding into you for the rest of the night until you told him why you hadn't responded to his letters, but more than that: he would be pissed that you deliberately thought you could escape him and would probably want to finish fucking a baby into you just so you could take the blame for carrying a child from your beloved pen pal.

ㅤ🏷 tagging: @festive @bontensucker @wakasa-wifey @dukina @manjiroscum @inu1gf @manjiken @i4ran .

[elvisabutler]

Hey, bestie! I'd like to request the fluff prompt "don't worry, I'm staying right here." with Austin.

hey bestie! thanks for the request first off. second off! so this one took me a minute, i toyed with the version of austin i wanted to use with this before going pretty simple. tw: death mention and something at least similar to a panic attack.

fluff, "don't worry, i'm staying right here." - austin butler ( also known as: my heart beats for you )

austin will admit this willingly, has admitted it willing on a podcast that sometimes his anxiety gets the better of him. it's gotten the better of him when he's needed to do things. he almost backed out of recording the podcast but told himself that he just had to get to the cafe and it would be better. it would make his mind calm down and stop swirling with thoughts he can't even articulate.

you're no stranger to his panic, to his anxiety and you're used to your own occasionally flaring up- thankfully never at the same time as his. something about taking care of someone makes you focus your attention away from it and- well austin might be a grown man but you're a grown human being yourself and yet sometimes you want someone to take care of you, to calm you down before you choke on the air coming into and leaving your lungs. or before you stumble over a word or five because you can't make your mouth work because everything just feels heavy and disjointed.

your job had let you relocate to budapest as long as you promised to stay on a united states schedule for meetings and your work deadlines. it was an easy decision because it allowed you to stay with austin and actually be in the same apartment again for longer than a month. you both needed the comfort of having another human being or more accurately you both needed the comfort of having someone they truly cared about nearby and not a plane ride or a phone call away.

the problem with the schedule is that sometimes you were up at strange hours like tonight where you're up at two in the morning working on something that's for some client or other- you really just weren't paying attention beyond get this done by midnight eastern standard time tonight. you hate walking austin up and it's why you're in your shared office typing away on your laptop when you hear the shout.

specifically you hear austin shout for something that sounds like your name but maybe his mother's name. honestly the exact thing is muffled enough that you can't tell, not that it matters as you end up just running to your bedroom. what greets you is what you expect, it's austin hunched over the side of the bed shaking in ways you haven't seen in a while and muttering something indecipherable to himself. you know how he can get when he's like this so you pause in the doorway before sitting down on the opposite side of the bed from him.

"aus, sweetheart?" you start, your hand moving to his back. "are you okay?"

there's a period of silence that follows your question puncutated only by his shallow breaths and the sound of his feet rubbing against the carpet as he jiggles his leg nervously. after a few minutes he finally answers.

"no." it's choked out, practically spit out if you were being honest. "i- nightmare. like-" he has to pause and take another deep breath and as he does he reaches for the hand you have on his upper back. you gladly let him take it. "when i did the audition for baz."

"oh." you utter and silently hit yourself afterward because that was not the first thing you should have said and you know it. "your mom again?"

the silence that follows is longer than the first and it starts to scare you enough that you're about ready to get up and pull austin close to you before you hear a sniffle. "yeah. but- you too. it was her dying and then you followed." his next breath sounds like it's being overtaken by a sob and your heart breaks. "i couldn't- i thought i could at least help you."

you don't even miss a beat before you're climbing into bed and wrapping your arms around austin. "i'm right here, sweetheart. you're- i'm fine. i'm alive and i've got my arms wrapped around you."

that centers austin more than he is entirely capable of processing in the moment and you feel some of the tension in his body leave him before he makes it so he can nuzzle at your neck. "can you just- stay here for right now? just until i fall back asleep? i know you've got the deadline."

you smile slightly. "don't worry, i planned on staying right here. no leaving even to grab the laptop." you pause. "let me get comfortable on the bed and you can just lay against me or curl up. sound like a plan?"

he nods. "hearing your heartbeat will probably help so yeah."

the only answer you give back is a hum as you shoot off a text to your boss at the possible delay before climbing under the covers and making a space for austin that he gladly takes with a sigh. your hand moves to his hair, running your fingers through it as he just lays his head against your chest. you both are quiet, him just listening to your heartbeat and you paying attention to the rhythmic falling and rising of his chest.

he speaks first. "thank you."

you raise an eyebrow and stop petting his hair for a moment. "for what?"

"just being here." he shrugs, placing a kiss approximetly where your heart should be. "especially this late."

"wouldn't be much of a partner if i didn't, aus." you pause and kiss his forehead. "go back to sleep, i'm alive and i've got work i need to do. once i'm done you can hold me to your heart's content. deal?"

he smiles and settles his head back onto your chest, his eyes shutting ever so slowly. "deal."

[northisnotup]

"Fuck you." / "I'm flattered, really, but no thanks." for the prompts?? 👀

It was easier than it should have been. The thought's been haunting him. Through the fight, through fleeing the city, through the twisting backroads to the second getaway car he hid away in the bush.

There'd hardly been any security at the manor.

Halfway through wiping down the steering wheel, Damen took a precious second to roll his eyes. Arles Manor. What a pretentious name for a pretentious estate for a pretentious family. But still, a family like that, they had money and secrets and the necessity to hide both. There should have been security. Well, he tongued his split lip with a grimace. More security.

A thump from the car next to him drew his attention.

Swinging the backdoor open, he dodged the kicking feet aimed at his stomach. "Hey," he said, mildly.

Furious blue eyes stared up at him, teeth bared around the gag in a snarl as his whole body strained against the bonds that wrapped his arms to his sides like a straight jacket and his legs together from knees to bare feet.

Damen had been warned well enough, and paid well enough, to take no chances.

Clearly he'd been warned well. Already, the gag that had started out tight around his captive's head had been wiggled down enough to provide slack. Shit. Middle of the night or not, driving around with someone bound in the backseat was a risk. A risk that increased significantly if that someone could yell at any point.

Catching his captive's legs, Damen tried to remain impartial as he checked over the flexing ankles and pointing toes. Not discoloured and with full movement. Very good movement. He frowned, considering the hassle he would have to go through to cover them in socks or shoes, compared to the risk that his captive could use them to pick anything up.

The car had been detailed after his last job, and there shouldn't be anything to be picked up, but that didn't mean there wasn't.

"We're about an hour and a half outside Arles." Damen said, and saw his captive tilt his head. "I'm telling you that so you know what a useless idea it is to scream." That being said, he closed the door and went around to the other side, choosing to loosen the gag from behind, rather than climb over a restrained man.

The first words his captive said were: “Whatever they’re paying you, my uncle -”

“Will pay me more?” Damen interrupted.

His captive frowned.

“It was weird, right? Waking up here. Really, you should have woke up a long time ago.”

“A tip, free, from me to you: measure your drugs out better.”

Damen wanted to lean in. He wanted to loom over the seething, furious man in his backseat. It wasn’t a good idea. Damen knew himself to be a bad man. Weak to a pretty face. Impulsive. Quick to anger. He had a kidnapped man in his backseat, for fucks sake and the single thought overwhelming him was how beautiful that man looked, wanting to tear Damen apart.

So he was a bad man. He wasn’t, however, stupid.

“I didn’t drug you at all, Laurent.” Damen only realized his captive had been fighting the bonds, wiggling slowly, inching them up or down, when he stopped moving entirely. “Quit that,” he snapped, and broke his own rule, leaning into Laurent’s space to readjust. Quick as a snake, Laurent shifted his weight and twisted, sinking his teeth into Damen’s unprotected neck.

“Son of a -!”

Wrenching back, Damen nearly hit his head on the low roof. He didn’t quite manage to catch himself before he was landing on his ass outside the car. “Bitch.”

“Fuck you,” Laurent snarled back.

“I’m flattered, really, but no fucking thanks.”

Slamming the car door shut, Damen hit the locks and stalked back over to finish the clean up, taking his phone out of his pocket as he did and dialing from memory.

“Damianos! How did it go? Is everything okay? Wh -”

“There was little to no security at the house. I took out another team on my way in. Armed to the teeth with Akelion weapons.”

“Is he…”

Damen sighed. “He’s fine, Auguste. You’re lucky I owe you one. Are you sure -”

“He won’t believe you until he sees me with his own eyes.”

There’d been a glass on the nightstand, Damen remembered. It looked like water. Bars on the windows. A door that locked from the outside. Not an environment that bred trust, true enough. “Thanks for the tip, by the way.”

Auguste’s warm laughter tumbled through the phone. “Was it needed?”

Damen grimaced, and on principle refused to touch the wound on his neck, concentrating instead on wiping down the seats and velcro cleaning the shitty car carpet. “It might have been.”

“I told you! You will need to restrain him well! None of your softhearted hands and feet nonsense.”

“He bit me.” Damen felt the need to complain.

“Then you did not prepare well enough. How soon -”

They planned for 20 hours, including stops. But they’d planned on a smash and grab, not 5 dead hitmen in the house of a politician with his nephew now missing and a drugged glass of water on the side table.

“14 hours. Provided we don’t kill each other.”

“Watch your back, and his, and Damen?”

Finished, Damen made an ‘I’m listening’ noise, throwing the cleaning supplies into the trunk.

“Good luck.”

“Don’t die before I get back,” Damen retorted, and hung up. He took the sim card from the phone and crushed it.

Okay. Alone with Laurent Revere for 14 hours. What could go wrong?

[bajisbabe]

# DO YOU NOTICE ME, DO YOU NOTICE ME

“I just wanna know, shawty, do you notice me?”

you’re on facetime and they want your attention | Ran, Rindou, Yuzhua

warnings: fluff, cussing.

anon said: “just binge ur works and all I could say is *chef kiss* I'm a fan now. anyways, saw ur request is open. may i request a hcs for haitanis brother and yuzuha reacting to their s/o facetiming someone. just saw this in tiktok. thank u! take your time don't rush this.”

song: notice me by pnb rock

— he wouldn’t mind if it was short and sweet.

— but if you have been babbling on the phone for over half an hour, he will become fed up and annoyed.

— he just wants to spend time with you. 🥺

— 👹SO PUT YOUR PHONE AWAY, DAMMIT👹

— will snatch your phone.

— would hang up on the person right in front of you.

— he does not care.

— immediately collapses onto you, wrapping his long, lanky arms around your waist.

— “pay attention to me.”

— not whiny or bratty about it. more so, matter of fact?

— why facetime someone when he is right there 😐

— if you want to talk to someone, talk to him. he is literally right there.

— whoever you were talking to can wait.

— he would tuck your phone away somewhere where you can’t reach it. might slide it in his pocket too.

— nuzzling his face up against your stomach, he squeezes tighter and tells you to pay attention to him again.

— run your hands through his hair or pat his back. do something.

— you better pay him some attention because you’re not getting your phone back until you do.

— if you still choose to ignore him, he might actually throw a minor tantrum.

— gets really worked up about it. or at least pretends to in order to make you feel bad, feigning hurt as he voices how he’s super busy and can only spend so much time with you and here you are wasting it.

— will make you feel bad about it.

— will most likely apologize for his behavior later. but for now, just pay him attention.

— he’s much more needy than he’s willing to admit.

— would be quiet at first, just staring at you from behind your phone screen as you blab on and on about something he couldn’t care less about.

— would probably be content for a while just staring at your face, and lips. thinking about how he might want to kiss you once you’re done talking.

— might try to peer over your shoulder to see who exactly you’re talking to.

— but your conversation is seemingly endless and you go on and on and on about all kinds of random topics.

— and that’s when he begins sighing and grunting abnormally loud in an effort to draw your attention.

— like, hello. he’s still here 👋👋

— might get so mad to the point where he just gets up and walks off.

— if you don’t wanna pay him any attention, fine. he’ll just go find someone who will.

— but he actually won’t leave.

— he wants your attention specifically. he craves it.

— he can’t help it. it’s in his genes as the youngest.

— he usually gets everything he wants. why should your affection be any different?

— ends up waiting around until you finish and once you do, he practically tackles you down as he wraps his arm around you and just snuggles into your torso.

— “no more talkin’.” he mumbles against you, letting out a soft yawn. “you’re gonna have to make it up to me… do whatever I say, yeah?”

— don’t bother trying to leave, he won’t let you.

— is really bratty in the following days.

— if you mention his attitude, he’ll just shrug you off and say that it’s your fault for ignoring him.

— give him lots of affection and he’ll get over it. trust me.

— remains quiet for lil’ because she doesn’t want to interrupt.

— but once your call hits the thirty minute mark, she will gently pull your phone out of your hand and wave the person on the receiving end goodbye as she hangs up on them.

— you’ll probably be in shock for a moment because did she really just hang up your phone for you?

— yes.

— yes, she did.

— and she’d do it again.

— now pay her some attention.

— if you get upset, she’d crawl into your lap and give you a kiss or two while begging you not to be angry. that pretty smile of hers making your heart melt.

— “c’mon,” she says. “I just wanna spend some time with you.”

— she’s a really pretty girl, and she knows that you know that. and she’ll use those looks of hers to her advantage.

— batting those long lashes, quivering her lower lip.

— she knows you’ll give her exactly what she wants.

— the moment you give in, she’ll wrap her arms around your neck and press kisses all over your face.

— “that’s my baby!” she’d giggle. “now spend some time with me!”

— she would slip your phone in her back pocket where you can’t reach, making sure that you don’t see her doing so as she uses her kisses to distract you.

— if she wants attention, she’ll get it.

— and once she has it, she’s not giving up until she has her fill.

— she will make sure to keep your mind off of your phone and whoever you were facetiming with to make sure she has your undivided attention.

— she can be a lil’ greedy when it comes to your affection.

— so it’s best to just give her all of your love and hope that it’s enough.

— all of it meaning she wants your eyes on her at all times when she’s around.

— don’t try facetiming around her ever again lmao.

[uchihaclansslutt]

i have writer's block so instead of writing for teotw, i'm feeding everyone with one-shots and drabbles :) plus, this oneshot has been on hold ever since this summer 😭 just had to complete it

mr.reckless; terushima yuuji

things to know: one-shot, fem!reader, fluff, angst, idk theyre in college ig, mcd, lowercase intended, suggestive language, the concept of futakuchi, daishou and teru being friends, ending's heavily inspired by in another life

you were pissed. so fucking pissed.

you were heading back to your dorm building after a late swim practice when you jolted and hit your steering wheel. someone had crashed into the rear end of your car. it wasn't serious but it was enough to cause your lip to bleed.

immediately, some rather tall guy with an undercut and dyed blond hair approached your door. he knocked on your window and you proceeded to roll it down. you noted that he was your age.

upon taking a better look at him, you noticed he had multiple ear piercings, a typical black, frat boy zip up and rings flooding his fingers. there was no denying he was attractive regardless of how much it was taking for you to not run over him.

"i am so, so, so sorry," he apologized profusely. you noticed his almond-coloured eyes gazed down to your bloody lips. he squirmed—not literally but his face showed it.

he pointed at the wheel with his eyes and back to you. "was that because-"

"yes. it was," you continued for him, touching some of the blood with the tip of your fingers. you looked away from him in order to find a wipe to clean your hands that were now coated in red.

to your surprise, the new person you just encountered happened to have a tissue in his pockets. who knows how long it's been in there for. he gestured for you to place your hand in his and he cleaned the blood off your fingertips. not so long after, he proceeded to wipe the blood off your lip using his thumb.

his actions made you smile. it also left you an open opportunity to tease him for it. "so you crashed into my car and now you're trying to seduce me?"

you decided you weren't going to report the minor accident because he was about your age. you weren't aware of his financial status or anything but you knew how annoying college fees were already, this could have just made things worse for him.

but, if you weren't going to give him a hard time with the crash, you definitely were going to torment him using this.

"huh?! do i look like that kinda guy?" he raised a brow and was taken back, looking a tad bit offended.

you shot a look at him, head-to-toe. he had grey sweatpants on, the black zip-up and rings you noticed earlier, you also saw a tongue piercing amongst the other piercings. you stared for a moment before nodding. "yeah. you do," you deadpanned.

before he could retaliate, one of his friends from his vehicle started yelling. "teru, are you done yet!?"

"yeah, one second!" he responded. he pulled out his phone and held it in front of you. "what's your number? we'll talk about this later, yeah?"

you took it from him and dialled your number, giving it a missed call. "what's your name?" you asked in order to create a contact.

"yuuji. terushima yuuji."

it was very faint but you were sure you've heard it. you pondered for a moment, "terushima yuuji, huh? i've heard the name before, i just can't figure it out."

terushima chuckled a bit before walking backwards from your vehicle. "i have a lecture with you. pay attention to your surroundings, princess."

you stuck your head out the window as he jogged back to his car. "says the one who hit a car!"

he shared a smile with you one last time before driving away.

you got out of your car to see the damages. it wasn't that bad, besides the fact your hood was severely dented. it shouldn't be a problem.

the next day, you ended up getting to class using uber. you decided to get in touch with terushima before you figured out what you wanted to do with your car.

just as you were about to text him about the minor crash, you felt someone's presence beside you. well, they wanted to make it clear they were near you.

speak of the devil—there he was. this must've been the class he was talking about.

"i was just about to text you," you said, showing him your phone.

yuuji made an 'o' with his mouth while taking his bag off his shoulder to take out his books, "missed me?"

you tried your best to suppress your facial expressions. now that was stupid. "no," you grinned. "have you forgotten you messed up my car? i was just going to ask if you knew a place that could fix that."

"i know a place. here, how about we go down there tonight," he offered politely. "i got the expenses covered though."

you smiled. he was nice, you felt bad for assuming he was a typical frat boy. well, he could act like one sometimes. "thanks. but there's no need, i promise-"

he cut you off. "nope. like you said, i'm the one that did it. i mean, paying for the expenses- it's the bare minimum." before you could argue, the professor came in and the class began.

the lecture was three hours long, like always. however, it wasn't so bad because the stupid blond was beside you.

at one point, he stopped taking notes and intentionally disconnected to wifi just so he could play that dinosaur game. what a dork.

terushima also ended up sending you imessage games throughout the lecture. you swore, you would've diverted your attention to your professor if she hadn't gone over this lesson before.

you greeted your professor goodbye and headed out alongside terushima. it was evident his friends were around the corner as they dressed similarly and were loud as shit.

"text me the address. i'll get there on my own," you reminded him before trying to walk away.

he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. "huh? no, you send me your address and then follow my directions."

you sighed. "terushima, i refuse to let you pay."

"do you want you car fixed or not?" you didn't reply, he took your silence as an answer. "good. i'll see you tonight at your place then."

you hated this. you never wanted this to be more complicated than it actually was—and it wasn't. you nodded and the two of you were about to go your separate ways untill you heard him yell across the hall.

"oh, and! call me yuu instead!"

you did as he said. you sent him your dorm building's address as soon as you got back. you decided to finish any pending assignments or notes before he came.

you got the text as soon as you finished showering too.

'I'm outside'

rushing out your room, you got onto the lift and outside to see him. you unlocked your vehicle and started following him.

you trailed his jet black, matte corvette into the night. part of you thought you were being too generous by refusing to let him pay for the damages he caused.

the two of you reached this garage surrounded by diners, gas stations, restaurants, convenience stores, anything that would fit the aspect of a boring city.

you two walk in and you're greeted by a beautiful guy. he had brown, messy, straight hair and the same coloured eyes.

"my man! this is..." he started but paused immediately. he leaned down to whisper in your ear, "i don't know your name."

you closed your eyes shut. what the fuck. "it's-"

"oh hey l/n. it's been a while," the brown-haired guy smiled.

"hey kenji," you replied with a reciprocating grin.

terushima's eyes widened, "this is l/n and i need you to fix her car," he said, now holding onto kenji's hands. "please, please, please."

you stood there in disbelief. you almost laughed honestly. he didn't know your name and only repeated it after futakuchi did.

you've known futakuchi kenji for a while now. you went to high school with him. you two weren't close but you were associated with a similar friend group, therefore, it made him your acquaintance.

"where's the car?" he asked. he got lead by you to your car. terushima spiked a conversation with him while getting there.

he glared at the car, back to you and back to yuuji. "you did this, didn't you?" terushima nodded slowly and nervously. futakuchi sighed, "it'll take some time to fix that up. maybe a week, maybe more."

"that's fine by me. i'll uber," you complied.

once again, terushima felt bad for the inconvenience he caused. "what? no? i'll drop you off to your classes. i mean, we have some in common."

"well, there you go! i'll get daishou and the other boys to start on it," kenji stated before either of you could argue again. "teru, it's 130,000 yen. stop fucking up cars."

"sorry kenji," he apologized, dragging the 'sorry' like a child.

he chuckled, "it's for your safety. otherwise i could care less. i mean, you're keeping us in business with your recklessness."

that was one thing about futakuchi. he always knew how to lighten the mood and everyone appreciated him for it. even if he was a prick sometimes.

you got into terushima's car—no. he opened the passenger door for you and offered to drive you home, again.

"where are you getting 130,000 yen from?" you asked curiously while the answer was quite literally in front of you.

his corvette's interior looked like it was the latest model. he had money coming in from somewhere.

"uhh," he started, trying to sound as modest as he could. "my parents are kinda rich? i mean i work too, but they don't let me use my money. it's in my savings for more important investments i guess."

that was nice of them. you'd wished you started saving your money to invest in your future. "where do you work?"

"at an ice cream parlour. i've been working there ever since high school." his lips were slowly curling into a smile. "i like the people there. especially this one old lady that comes in."

you've never seen this side of terushima. ever since you encountered him (which wasn't so long ago), you just thought of him as a playboy because of how he presented himself.

you weren't necessarily wrong. he was one. but he just didn't seem to be the kind of guy that worked at an ice cream parlour when he was practically loaded.

"is it open right now?" you asked.

he nodded, "24/7."

"take me there, i want some ice cream."

the two of you arrived at this small ice cream parlor. it looked plain on the outside but as soon as you walked in, there was colour everywhere.

black and white tiles, pink, red and purple seats, red booths. it was well organized too, definitely put a lot of thought behind it.

"hey! hana, kazuma!" yuuji called to the two people working there.

hana had short brown hair accompanied by short bangs as well. her eyes were the same colour as her hair. she was very well put together and seemed quiet as she nervously waved back.

"hey teru."

kazuma on the other hand was the opposite. he was much taller than her and had messy brown hair. he had a smug look on his face.

terushima pulled out a chair in one of the booths. "take a seat."

you did as he said while kazuma came along not so long after. "you guys wanna order something?"

"just get me a vanilla scoop and um.." he paused and looked at you. "what do you want l/n? name whatever, we have it."

you wanted to challenge his statement so you tried to think of an ice cream you don't usually see at parlors. "mocha macchiato?"

you eyed terushima. he had his hands holding up his chin while he looked at kazuma. you saw him glance at you before looking back at his friend.

"coming right up."

kazuma left and yuuji could not keep his eyes off you. "caffeine fiend?"

you smiled, "oh, of course i am. the worst."

"just letting you know though," he smirked, "starbucks is nothing compared to this place."

"yeah? i won't doubt it."

his friend came back with the ice cream rather quickly. "vanilla for you and a mocha macchiato for the pretty girl."

terushima scrunched his brows at his friend and kicked him from underneath the table. it got him to scurry off, but as he did, he was giggling.

before you tasted the ice cream, terushima stopped you. "say," he begun. you can tell he had some ulterior motive as his smile looked malicious. "if you like the ice cream, how about you go on a date with me?"

you looked at him and the ice cream in your grasp. "thats a little unfair, don't you think? everyone likes ice cream."

you swirled the dessert with your spoon and picked it up, moving the spoon closer to yuuji's mouth. "plus, i think i can consider this as a date," you smiled.

he was stunned. you were just as smooth as terushima was and he loved the energy you returned.

"she has more game than you do!" kazuma yelled as hana snickered beside him. the both of them were watching you the entire time.

what made you laugh though was how offended terushima looked. "you're gonna catch it."

the two of them chased each other around the empty ice cream parlour.

hana walked up to the booth and sat across from you. "i think he really likes you," she mentioned.

you brushed it off. "pfftt. i don't think he's serious."

"i think he is," she continued. "don't take this the wrong way but he's been with a lot of girls. he's never brought any of them here except for you."

you kinda expected he'd have a lineup of other girls. it was pretty obvious. but what hana told you did make you feel a tad bit more special until you remembered. "i asked him to bring me here though."

"it makes no difference, l/n. he told you where he works, he never does that." she smiled at you, "he likes you. he's your dumbass now."

and hana was right. he was head over heels for you.

after leaving the parlour, yuuji confessed you had his attention way before the minor accident.

it made you wonder why he would be so interested in you. it's not like you were noticeable, you never attended parties, neither were you popular. all you did was sit in class and take notes. you also just happened to be on the swim team but it was never anything more than that.

you didn't think you were special, but he still made you feel as if you were.

terushima insisted on dropping you off again. he parked in front of your dorm building. "here we are."

"i had fun today. after a really long time actually," you said. "thank you for everything terushima."

"i told you to call me yuu, l/n."

"okay yuu," you exaggerated while smiling. "you can call me y/n."

the both of you were closer than you realized. still sharing smiles, he graced your cheek. you looked down at his lips and back into his sparkling almond eyes again.

you tilted your head a little and he did the same. before you knew it, you slowly attached your lips to his. the prolonged tension and compatibility led to this moment.

he cupped your face with both his hands as yours rested on his chest. you could've sworn you felt his heart beating rapidly—it was insane. you could taste the hint of vanilla ice cream on his lips as the two of you moved in sync, passionately kissing each other.

"hi," he smiled once you two pulled out of the long lasting kiss.

you were trapped in his eyes. they were so bright you could see your reflection in them. you accidentally glanced at the time projecting in his car and didn't think it would be so late. 2:22am. time passed by so quickly around him.

you lightly tapped terushima's chest and laughed. "look at the time."

he let go of your cheeks and sighed while tilting his head back. his jawline was a sight to see.

"please drive safely. i'll see you tomorrow." you kissed his cheek one last time before leaving. "good night, yuu."

you were his, at last.

terushima and you had been dating for approximately a year, a little more. he changed his ways for you and adapted to whichever schedule you had.

you did the same though. you decided to start getting out of your comfort zone for him, started befriending his friends such as futakuchi, daishou, and kazuma. you were naturally closer with hana though because you were both sick of the boys' shenanigans.

you started letting your social butterfly loose again. along with being a top student, you learned how to balance your extracurriculars and personal time all thanks to terushima.

he would get you to tag along with him to parties he'd been invited to, even if he wasn't allowed a plus one.

you were grateful for him.

terushima yuuji was probably the best thing that had ever happened to you.

"you look good," you called out seeing your boyfriend dressed a slight bit decent. terushima looked good regardless, it was a part of his charm.

"hey," he greeted, pecking your lips quickly. "i'm going out, it's kazuma's birthday today. i know you don't really like parties but do you wanna come with me?"

"i'd love to yuu, but i have a shit ton of work to do tonight." you felt bad for declining the offer. you genuinely wished you could go out with yuuji but you couldn't afford to do so. you had a huge test the next day and a lot of cramming to do.

"tell him i said happy birthday though," you smiled.

he returned it. "i'll stop by later if you're still awake. i love you-"

your eyes widened and his did as well. you weren't expecting to hear it coming from him.

"shit," he cursed, thinking your reaction was a negative one. "it just came out, i'm sorry. you don't have to-"

you shut him up by pressing your lips on his. it eased him and you could tell by the way his hands naturally found your waist.

"stop freaking out yuu." you held his face close to yours. he smiled against your skin, glad he didn't mess anything up between you two. "i'll see you tonight. have fun and stay safe, okay?"

he kissed you again before walking out the front door. you waved and he did the same back.

you honestly didn't even realize when you fell asleep. the first thing you did was turn your phone front side up again to check the time. 3:43am.

shit. you had a few more hours until your test and you fell asleep in the midst of studying.

not to mention, you were supposed to see teru as soon as the party was over.

you felt so bad for falling asleep on him. you unlocked your phone to check if he sent you anything, but there was nothing there.

well, you didn't have to feel bad anymore. perhaps the party didn't end yet. but considering it was a wednesday, you'd assume terushima would be a little more responsible to come back earlier.

you weren't bothered though, it was one of his best friend's birthday anyway. you completely understood.

it wasn't until a few seconds later when other texts started flooding your phone.

why?

the first chat you decided to read was kazuma's. you thought you were going to see videos or pictures of your boyfriend being stupid, if not, a 'thank you' after you wished him happy birthday.

but oh, you were so wrong.

'something bad happened y/n'

'answer your phone'

'please'

'teru got into an accident'

you quickly checked your call log and saw kazuma called you twenty-seven times. you slept through it all.

the second chat you looked through was futakuchi's.

'i'm so sorry y/n'

no. this couldn't be happening. your hands couldn't stop shaking.

you quickly called kazuma. he didn't pick up until the second call. "kazuma, please tell me this is some sick joke."

his voice was shaking and he was definitely crying. "y/n, you need to come to the hospital right now. it's bad."

"i'm on my way." you got up as fast as you could, not bothering to change or grabbing a coat. you snatched your car keys off the table and ran out the room.

you couldn't afford to get on the lift, it would've taken way too much time so you ran down the stairs. "kazuma, are you still there?" he responded, thankfully he refused to get off the phone with you. "you have to make sure yuu's awake. at least until i get there, please."

he heard how desperate you were over the phone—the sounds of you running down floors, your keys jingling and your breath becoming staggered as you cussed.

you got into your car and rushed to the hospital kazuma told you to reach. "what exactly happened? please be honest with me."

"i'm so sorry y/n-"

"kazuma! snap out of it and stop saying sorry. nothing's going to happen to him," you yelled. "tell me what the fuck happened."

he sniffled, "he left the house at around 1am. w-we were watching him up until the lights. when they turned green, he slowly started driving again b-but a truck just collided into him at full speed."

your eyes started getting watery. "please tell me he wasn't drinking."

"i swear, he was sober. he was telling me he was gonna see you after so he can't drink," kazuma explained. "but i think he was looking at his phone too. maybe texting you. i don't know- i don't know what to do y/n."

your heart sunk and tears were falling onto your lap. you tried getting there as fast as you could—speeding, overtaking cars, shortcuts, anything that would get you there sooner.

he couldn't die on you. not like this. you still didn't tell him you loved him.

hospital parking lots and their fees pissed you off. you just needed to get in there as soon as you could so you parking at the side of the road, not caring about getting a ticket.

you practically sprinted into the hospital and reached the hall kazuma and the other's were located.

"where is he," you said quickly.

kazuma pointed weakly at the door across the hall. you walked towards it and peeked through the window.

there he was. terushima was surrounded by multiple doctors as they tried to stop the bleeding and trying to see if he'd wake up. he was in horrible shape to say the least.

you stepped away from the door, you can no longer look at your boyfriend in that position. it was killing you on the inside.

you slid down the wall and broke into tears. futakuchi and another friend of his and terushima's sat next to you.

he didn't know how to comfort you, but futakuchi sat next to you and pulled you into a hug. "he wouldn't wanna see you like this y/n."

kenji was right. you knew he was but the thought of terushima being in a critical situation in between life and death was tormenting you. you hated how you couldn't do anything to help him out of this mess.

if only you got out of your comfort zone and went to the party with him. the work and test did not matter to you anymore, you just wished you went with him.

maybe he wouldn't be in this shitty hospital right now.

hours passed by and no one came out of the operating room. it was starting to make you anxious but you knew you just had to wait this one out.

on the other side of the room, you took a good look at the other friend. you recognized the guy that resembled a snake.

it was daishou suguru, another person that was at the garage the same night you and terushima were consulting futakuchi. he also happened to previously go to school with you.

you were surprised you didn't notice him around and felt horrible about it. "sorry, hey daishou. i didn't see you there."

he opened his eyes again, he seemed to have been praying discreetly because he definitely was not napping. "don't worry about it. you were stressed."

down the hall, you saw kazuma pacing around. kenji and suguru looked in his direction and understood your concern. ultimately, daishou went to go calm him down as well because futakuchi was taking care of you.

it wasn't long until the doctors came out. they'd been in there for hours working nonstop trying to save terushima's life.

you eagerly got up and looked at the doctor waiting for an answer.

"we're sorry. he didn't make it."

you stayed in bed, heartbroken in despair for a week. you didn't want to face anyone or attend class anymore—you knew that empty seat in class would cause you an excelling amount of pain.

hana would bring over food for you because she knew you weren't eating properly. she'd often bring kazuma with her so the both of you can heal together.

kazuma couldn't look you in the eyes for a while. he thought it was his fault while you thought it was yours. you had to have a conversation with him one-on-one for him to finally get over the guilt.

daishou and futakuchi would come over together. they'd come over to check up on you and usually ended up making you smile the most with their snarky and rude comments towards each other.

you missed him. you missed his smile that lit up the room, his eyes you would find yourself getting lost into, his presence that eased your soul. you would do anything to see him again.

you finally slept well after an entire week, but it came to an end when you jolted in your sleep.

you had a dream—a dream about yuuji.

your head was aching and your eyes were barely open. you turned to your front desk and looked at your phone. 4:44am.

when you turned around aiming to fall asleep again, you were startled by a figure.

it was blurred but you could make it out pretty damn well. terushima yuuji.

he had the same sparkling eyes, the same beautiful smile, his healthy hair was still in tact, and his touch felt so real.

he placed a hand on your jaw, caressing your cheeck gently.

you smiled at terushima, a single tear slid down your cheek and onto your pillow. you saw him scrunch his brows and shake his head in disapproval as he wiped the tear stain away.

"i love you," your voice trembled. "i love you so much yuuji."

he smiled ever so dearly.

"thank you for loving me, y/n."