#thanks i hope you mean tha

[detectivehole]

[stargatebarbie]

OBSESSED WITH YOUR NEW PFP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S ADORABLE!!!!!!!!!

THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You are the first person to comment on him who hasn't immediatly said he looks like he's being fucked

[luveline]

hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 

"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 

Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 

"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 

You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 

You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 

"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 

"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 

"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 

You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 

"You're Peter?" you ask. 

Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 

Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 

"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."

"What do I usually look like?" 

"Not so, you know. Daunted." 

"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 

"Oh, you think so?" 

You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 

"Let's get you to the car, baby." 

"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 

"Home." 

"Together?" 

"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 

"Thank you," you say shyly. 

You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 

He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 

"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 

"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 

"You're my boyfriend?" 

"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 

"You want to get married? To me?" 

Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 

"We did?" 

He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 

"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.

"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 

"I love you," you say quietly. 

Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 

"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 

You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 

Which reminds him. 

"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 

"What is it?" you ask. 

Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.

"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 

[nereidprinc3ss]

slumber party

in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid

fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu

“Oh, there is no way.”

Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you. 

“What? Is it—”

You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?

But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough. 

Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.

But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.

One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.

Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes. 

“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”

Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement. 

“Oh my god! You guys too?”

“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment. 

“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”

You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them. 

“What about Morgan and Garcia?”

Spencer snorts.

“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”

“Hotch and Rossi?”

The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.

“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”

“Can we please not try to picture it?”

“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”

“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”

“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”

“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up. 

“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”

Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you. 

“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”

“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.

Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie. 

“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”

“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can. 

“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”

Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks. 

From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy. 

“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”

The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft. 

“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly. 

“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”

“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”

“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”

“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”

“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait. 

That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest. 

“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”

It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back. 

“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”

“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow. 

“Obviously nobody has told me that.”

“It means y—”

“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”

“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”

You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly. 

“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.” 

You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you. 

“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”

“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”

Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features. 

“We’re not?”

“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”

He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table. 

“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”

“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”

Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness. 

“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”

“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum. 

Spencer doesn’t respond. 

It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy. 

In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.

The mattress squeaks. 

You do it again. 

Another squeak. 

A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can. 

“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”

Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark. 

“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won. 

“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“I don’t—”

“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”

“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”

“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”

You’re only sort of kidding. 

“I… fascinate you?”

“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”

“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”

“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”

“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one. 

“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”

“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”

Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile. 

“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”

With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.

“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”

Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you. 

“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously. 

“You’d be surprised.” 

The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him. 

“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you. 

And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago. 

But you don’t bring those up. 

Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth. 

“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”

“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face. 

“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”

“Family annihilator from Houston?” 

“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”

“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”

“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”

“So he’s in your bag.”

“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”

“You are genuinely psychotic.”

You huff.

“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”

You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently. 

“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”

The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that. 

“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”

“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.

[planet4546b]

heartbroken that even though they have old dawning sets up they don’t have the dawning one that junes mask is from </3 but destiny the game made up for it by handing me young ahamkaras spine from a random drop <3

[yazmarina]

close to you

for hit play, a drabble event.

—"break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight, just let me be" (close to you by gracie abrams)

oscar piastri (f1) x afab!reader

warnings/notes: smut, protected sex, cunnilingus, first date, basically you match with oscar on a dating app lol

a/n: what a weekend guys. have this as the cherry on top <3

You never really expected anything much to come out of it.

You swiped right on the app, highly suspicious if this was really even him, but for the plot (as the kids say), you wanted to try anyway.

The screen graphics confirmed that it was a match and you felt your blood run cold.

Oscar Piastri, Formula 1 driver, had matched with you on a dating app.

You locked your phone and paced about the room for a solid five minutes, refusing to pick your device back up. You yelped as you saw the screen light up. You shoved it under your pillow, rushing out of the room and pacing even more, but this time, around your living room.

It took another ten minutes for you to gingerly return to your room, your trembling hand flipping your phone upright to expose your notifications.

Oscar: Hey :)

You nearly dashed out onto your balcony and leaped off the edge right then. With bated breath, you tapped on the notification, thoughts cycling seemingly a million miles a second.

You: Hi! Fancy seeing you here haha

You groaned immediately after sending the message, cringing at the utter lack of eloquence.

A sob nearly escapes your lips when you see his reply.

Oscar: Don't tell on me, then ;) I take it you're a fan?

"You have no idea, Oscar Piastri," you whispered to yourself as you tried to maintain a semblance of composure in your following messages.

You really should have practiced restraint, a cautious approach to this whole situation. What if it was some sort of poser? What if whichever dickhead pretending to be Oscar posts your responses online to dunk on you? Your face was exposed, goddammit.

But after two hours of messaging and a selfie sent from his side to prove that, yes, he really was Formula 1 driver Oscar Piastri, the two of you agreed to meet the next day.

You're still not fully convinced at that point but you decided to go with it. You sent a vague yet urgent message to your friend who lives nearby, in case you need an escape plan.

You covered all your bases, said all your prayers, and plucked every stray eyebrow into perfection.

Your heart nearly gives out now as you look up to see Oscar approaching your table, the sun gleaming down, casting a glow on his wavy brown hair. You're seated just outside the restaurant doors, the breeze gently displacing some of your own hair.

A nervous giggle escapes you as you tuck your hair back in place. Oscar beams and pulls the chair out in front of you.

"Hi. Sorry to keep you waiting."

You shake your head almost instantly. "No, it's okay. I wasn't here for long."

Oscar smiles even wider and you clamp your hands together under the table to stop them from shaking.

"It's nice to meet you," Oscar says, reaching his hand out. You chuckle at the formality but grasp his hand in yours nonetheless.

"Same here. Though, I'm a little nervous," you reply.

"Though, I hope you aren't super weirded out about going on a date with a fan," you rush out. "I just really enjoy the sport and I think you're a great driver."

You see a hint of pink dusting Oscar's cheeks. Your own face heats up at the realization.

"It's fine," Oscar consoles. "Thanks, by the way. I mean, you're gorgeous, so you're not the only one in awe here."

Oscar's eyes widen as he realizes the words that had come tumbling out of his mouth. Your own jaw slackens and another nervous laugh rises from your chest.

"Thank you," you manage to splutter out. "I-I don't know what else to say to that without sounding like some lovesick fan."

Oscar bursts out laughing, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. You realize that every inch of skin above his shirt collar is tinged with red.

"I think that's our signal to order," Oscar offers, flipping through the menu in front of him.

You nod silently, doing the same.

-

The text you send to your friend after your lunch with Oscar is just as vague, if not a little more.

You tell them that your date went well and that you'll be moving to another place. You don't exactly clarify what this other place is, but with the way your friend tells you to be safe and call immediately if anything goes wrong, you know that they're aware of where this is going.

You lean back, comfortable in the passenger seat of Oscar's car. You set your phone down, sneaking a peek at the man beside you, and for a split second your eyes meet.

"You good?" Oscar asks, his eyes trained back on the road. There's an easy smile playing on his lips and you can still see pink on his cheeks.

"Yeah," you say, digging through your purse and retrieving some breath mints. You pop two in your mouth and you offer Oscar the container.

You smile knowingly as Oscar glances at your outstretched hand, his smile widening into a bashful grin.

"Want some?" you offer, toying with the candy in your mouth. Just then, you come upon a stoplight and Oscar turns to you fully.

He holds up his palm and you shake out two more mints onto his awaiting hand. Oscar places them in his mouth, watching as you put the candies away.

"Any particular reason you'd be needing breath mints?" Oscar asks almost playfully.

You snicker. "Not really. Just wanted to get the taste of food out of my mouth."

Oscar hums, eyes trailing down your face. You can see him continue to suck on the mints but he soon loses his patience and bites down, grinding his teeth.

Yours are all dissolved, the fresh sting of spearmint settling on your tongue.

"I don't really do this," Oscar suddenly declares.

You raise both of your eyebrows. "Do what?"

"Take girls home on the first date."

A grin settles on your face as you hear the words. You lean in closer, over the center console, noting the way Oscar inhales as you do so.

"I'm flattered," you admit. Oscar laughs, mirroring your posture, the proximity between you two diminishing.

Oscar kisses you, tenderly at first, his hand automatically coming up to hold you in place. It's easy to forget that it's the middle of the day in sunny Monaco, the tint on his car windows not the ideal shade to necessarily hide what you're doing.

You pull, back glancing at the stoplight just as it turns green.

It takes a honk from the car behind you to get Oscar out of his daze.

-

Oscar is a gracious host, as you quickly learn. Gracious in a way that his hands immediately cradle you close the second his front door latches shut. His lips are just as welcoming as they trail down your neck, careful and almost nervous. It's also so hospitable how he so eagerly ushers you into his room, settling you down on the sheets as he does all the work for you.

Your clothes are stripped one by one and the familiar anxiety rises back up in your throat. Oscar senses the shift in your mood and pauses just as he's undoing his own pants.

"We don't have to," Oscar offers, taking ahold of one side of your face.

You kick yourself in your mind. This is an opportunity you would never pass up and it's right in the palm of your hand.

You shake your head. "I want to. I really want to. With you."

Oscar grins and practically tackles you down on the bed. It takes some effort but the rest of his clothes finally come off and the two of you lay bare on his bed.

You can feel the desperation in his movements and you reciprocate with as much eagerness. You think for a moment what it could have been in your lunch that caused the both of you to just want to jump in bed together, but you ultimately doubt that the tapas had anything to do with it.

It feels surreal, having Oscar's mouth on your core, and even more unbelievable the way his fingers work as if they already know you, how to please you. You're trembling by the time Oscar comes back up, lips smeared with your arousal.

You blink the tears out of your eyes as you watch Oscar reach over to his nightstand, expertly dispensing a condom, rolling it down on his rock-hard shaft.

You scramble to get him close, not even caring about how quick he plunges inside you, the stretch eliciting a hiss from between your teeth. You relax and Oscar takes this as a sign to start moving.

"Jesus, fuck—" Oscar curses. "You're fucking tight."

You let out a breath, holding Oscar's body close as he fucks you, steady and unrelenting.

You don't particularly care if everything he's said up to this point is a lie. You could be his fifth this week, you could be herded out his apartment the moment he finishes. You really don't mind, not when he feels this good inside you.

"Oscar," you gasp as he starts to pick up his pace. Even that doesn't seem real. The way his name rolls off your tongue registers like a faraway dream to you.

Oscar pulls back to look at you, his hair falling over his eyes. You've gushed about this exact look a few times online. The thought embarrasses you a bit and you can't help the blush that creeps up your neck.

"What?" Oscar asks, the corners of his mouth turning up as he watches you.

You shake your head. "Nothing. Don't look at me like that."

Oscar smirks, pressing his mouth to yours in a heady kiss. Your whines and moans are muffled as Oscar takes you closer and closer to your release. You claw at his back, digging your nails into his supple skin. Your hips start to move along with his, your own orgasm now within reach.

The two of you cum almost simultaneously and Oscar stills inside of you, his mouth hanging open as the euphoria completely washes over him. You're panting, eyes unfocused, even as Oscar pulls out to discard the condom.

Oscar plops back down beside you and you can't help the giggles that erupt as the two of you catch each other's eye.

"That was great," Oscar muses, staring at the ceiling, his hand patting around the bed until it finally finds yours. He slots his fingers between the spaces of your own.

You risk a peek at him and you take it all in. A strange feeling blooms in your chest.

Oscar turns to you and you quickly look away.

"It's kind of cute how you think I don't notice you looking," Oscar says, scooting closer.

You meet his eyes again and the strange feeling only flourishes. Pessimistically, you think of that one quote about never meeting your heroes. You start to think that it might be true.

The illusion is shattered. You've come too close. Icarus reincarnated, the sun staring you right back in the face.

You anticipate the sugarcoated rejection.

"Wanna stay over?"

You blink.

"Stay over?" You repeat rather plainly. Oscar nods.

"Yeah. I'll get us dinner." Oscar tucks your hair behind your ear. "Unless you'd rather I drive you home."

A giddy sort of sensation shoots through your body. You tentatively reach out, laying a hand on Oscar's face.

Maybe you could get just a little closer to the sun.

You peck his lips briefly, smiling as you pull away.

"No. I guess you can have me overnight."

[sanzuscumwhore]

Ft. Baji keisuke

Warning: cousin incest, manipulation, guilt tripping, clit sucking, marking, no protection, PiV sex, baji being a bitch, bimbo reader, (one sided?), praising.

You flashed your auntie an adorable smile when she complimented you about your pink dress. "Tha-thank you Mrs.baji" "aii look at you, you've grown up so much!" Grown up? You looked like a big girl now, you giggled at the thought. Big girl.. yay!

"I hope it wasn't a trouble coming." Mrs.baji said with a hesitant expression "not at all!" Your mom chimed in "we wouldn't miss your house warming party for the world!" You mom continued. Mrs baji chuckled, "oh! Y/n dear, won't you go see kei?" Your smile dropped at the thought of him. You nodded your head no, "I'm sure he's busy- I wouldn't want to trouble him" your voice slowly growing faint. "Don't be silly! You two love playing with each other- remember the times where you'd be in his room all day playing, and wouldn't even want to go home" yea, right- 'playing'. You let out a nervous chuckle but thankfully both the older women were pulled by other guests. You sighed out of relief. 'Need water' you went to their kitchen to get a cup of water cause all of a sudden your throat went dry.

You took out a cup from the cupboard and filled it. "What do we have here~" your blood went cold at his voice, you turned around but got startled at how close he was. "He-hey i-itoko-san" you gulped, he flashed you his infamous grin which showed his sharp fangs. "Well hello there baby cousin~" His breath fanning over your ears. He was always so, so much taller than you. And his muscular frame, his huge hands, his long hair dropping over his broad shoulders, his bruised knuckles it made you so wet. He licked his lips "why didn't you come over to me hmm? Do you not like me anymore?" He said with a hurt expression. But in his mind he knew it was all a facade. You gasped, "no! Kei you know I'd never be like that... its just that-" "it's what huh?" He said a little louder, which scared you. You remember his reputation when he was a teen, buring cars, stripping people and beating them up. "No-no I just thought-" "hmp your not my favourite cousin anymore!" He mentally cringed at himself when he said that, you'd always be his favourite, forever no matter what. "Wha-what?" He smirked. Gotcha. Now he just had to play a little mean, but he knows his mean demeanor gets you so wet. "I'm going to c/n, she's more nicer than you" your breath hitched. You never liked c/n, she was always so mean and said nasty things to you. He rolled his eyes and walked away, you grabbed his muscular forearm "don-don't say that! I'm sorry" you mumbled your apology though he heard it. His grin reached both his ears. "Ok then.. prove it" He leaned in towards you at the perfect point to see you cleavage. The pink dress was so skimpy, didn't you realise it? He'd been starting at you all night. Hoping you'd come over to your 'kei' and greet him cutely like always. "How?" You asked looking up at him with your glossy eyes. Fuck he could feel his cock hardening in his pants, you were always go eager to please him, he found it so damn cute. "Let's play" you gulped. "Do-do we have to?" Huh? What was wrong with you today? You were always os eager to play with him, to let him use you. "So you don't like me huh!" Your eyes widen "NO! i-ill play" you blushed when he smiled.

Baji took you to his room, it was so much bigger than his previous one. He took your hands which made you a blushing mess, you were so ashamed of yourself on how you blushed and got wet with your older cousin. "Ok since you look so cute today ill let you choose, doctor or fire fighter " you bit your lower lips, you looked cute? He was always so good with his words. "Doc- Doctor" you saw Baji smile "Alright then, let's play~"

"Is everything ok doc?" You said nervously "hmmm" Baji continue inspecting you pussy. It was so hard- for him to not make out with your cute clit, to just shove his fat cock in and make you cum all over his cock, like he used to. Back then too you were so eager to make him happy, oh how you let him use you to his disposal. You remember eveytime you came over he'd take you to his room and use you, after wards he'd cuddle you and that's why you never left his room. You liked how he held you. You even let his friends use you! Mikey made you cum so hard with his cock in your asshole, and chifuyu made you feel so good when you sat on his face. All because Baji told you to do so.

"Ok so ms.l/n does it hurt over here?" Smug bastard asked you with his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Ngh~ ye-yesss~ doc" you bit your lower lips to contain your moans from spilling out. "As I thought, don't worry I have a cure" Baji grinned looking at your blissful expression. "Pleaseee doc~ make me feel better.. it hurts" Baji nodded. "Don't worry I'll make you feel so, so much better"

"Ahh~ ooh~ doooc~ feels good~" Baji continously sucked your swollen clit, with his nose resting on your mound. He let go of your clit with a pop "you ready pretty~" he asked. You blushed when he called you pretty. You nodded, Baji stood between your legs as he undressed himself. His tanned abs, his muscular pecs, his strong biceps, his even more muscular thighs, he was so dreamy, you loved your cousin soo much. "Alrighty then! Your turn" His voice encouraged. Your panties were already under his pillow, so you took off your pink dress revealing your cutesy pink bra which had a bow in the middle. He roughly grabbed your bra tearing it off. You gasped "be-be a little gentle kei-" he just rolled his eyes at you. He grabbed your ankles, pulling you towards him. "Y/n~ your so cute, your like my cute little pet~" he pinched your perked nipples. "Ngg~ you think I'm cute?" You asked with your voice shivering "the cutest~ not only cute but really pretty tooy/n-chan" you turned red with his words covering your face with your hands. "Now, now why you gettin' so shy on me, you love playing with me remember" you nodded when he took your hands off your face pinning it above your head with his one hand. "So why so cold to me? You don't hate me do yaa?" He paused before he put on a feverish face "wait? Did you tell auntie about what we play?!" He asked looking a little concerned. "No... you told me not to say anyone" he breathed in relief. "G-good, don't tell anyone okay? Otherwise we won't get to play anymore and we won't get to see each other, you don't want that... do you?" Your eyes widen, not being able to see kei? You'd probably die. You shook your head frantically. He smiled "See, your so nice to me, your such good girl" you bit your lower lips when he said that. "Now.. let's play ok~"

"Fuck you feel so fucking tight princess~ so good fo'me" he grunted. You couldn't focus anymore, his thumb playing with your clit. His fat cock piercing you with no mercy. He let your hands wrap around his neck and his other hand wrapped tightly around your waist. He bit your neck and sucked dark red hickies. He pulled one of nipples with his teeth "such pretty nipples baby". Your make up that your mom did for you was running down your face. Your mascara running down your face, your lip gloss smeared every where even on bajis lips. "Ahh~ kei~ i- I love yoooou~" you moaned with your head thrown back, clinging on him. Baji grinned before letting out a grunt "i-i know baby- fuck- your gonna cum aren't ya? Can feel you clenching- ooh Fuck~" he pulled your hair and kissed your roughly, shoving his tongue down your throat. He looked down at where the two of you were connected and he almost came right then and there seeing the white ring forming around his cock. Your clung onto him more arching your back. "Hmmpf- feels so good kei~" you boosted his ego. He smirked holding you tightly, his pelvis snapping on yours. His thrusts started getting sloppy and before you knew it, you were shaking as you came all over his cock. He thrusted few more times and pulled out as he released his seeds on you tummy. He rolled off towards your side as you were panting "fuck, that was amazing" you nodded. He got up from his bed and gave you one of his shirts that was so dam big on you. Without showering or washing up, he came back to bed and pulled your small frame towards him. You hugged his large torso while he hugged you tight in his arms. "Hey tomorrow ken and mitsuya are coming over, you remember them right, well let them play with you ok." You happily nodded your head, anything to make your favourite cousin happy. He smiled "good girl, your still my small baby ok" it was clearly a statement and not a question. "Am not a big girl?" You asked looking up at him with your doe eyes. He let out a deep chuckled "nah, your my small little baby cousin" he kissed the top of your head. You hid your face in his bare chest in embarrassment. "But don't tell your mom ok, or you won't be favourite cousin anymore" you agreed, after all he is your favourite cousin, kei.

--------------------------------------------

[s-4pphics]

click! 1 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a reputation :p, they’re both rude as shit, crack, all ocs are black coded yeeahhh yeah, awkward meetings, slut-shaming, brief cunninglingus, mention of eviction, smut later yall know tha vibes 

two. three. four.

A/N: short part just stay w me lemme cook... excited 2 write this lets get this shit yall

“W-What do you mean you’re moving?” 

Your roommate and best friend wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. Tears flooded in your eyes as she whispered the daunting news, your heart cracking in your chest. 

“I’m moving soon, stink.” Too soon, according to her. She’ll be gone by next week. Amaya snickered sadly as she cooed in your temple. “It's for good reason, though.”

Your ears perk, a curious hum vibrating her shoulder. 

“I got that internship— “

All sadness melds into excitement for your favorite person. You leap into her arms with squeals of congratulatory joy, planting smacking kisses all over her squishy cheek. 

“Oh my god! You should’ve said that first, bitch! What the fuck!” You wipe your tears on her hoodie. 

Her laughter rattles through your neck, “I just found out after class! I almost got hit by a fucking bus reading the email.” 

Amaya sets you down, rambles about her new position as a songwriting intern spilling from her like an overfilled glass. Tears of joy flow from you and her as she retells every detail about her acceptance. She’s leaving in a week and a half and going farther than you thought. 

“Girl… you’re really moving to New York?” 

“Only for like… four months, max. But yeah… Boutta be on BET come next year— “

“Maya.” 

“Hm?”

“… I can’t pay rent by myself,” you whisper, cringing and embarrassed. 

You hate to ruin her moment, but you’re concerned; Living off campus isn’t cheap and moving in the middle of the semester is less than ideal. It’d be a fucking hassle, and — to be frank — you’re not a people person. 

People like having you around because you’re fun, sure. But your reputation isn’t what you hoped for it to be when you moved out of your dad’s place for school. You wanted to be recognized for your creativity, and while your professors never hesitated to praise your talents, your peers failed to see past the status that was placed upon you. 

Frankly, you’re deemed as a dumb whore, especially after your falling out with one of the campuses best softball pitchers. 

It wasn’t even your fault. One raunchy snap to the wrong person and people think you live for sex and sex only! Just when you think everyone is over slut-shaming… 

“You thought I was gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Guess what I did.” 

Oh God. “What?” 

She twiddles her fingers together villainously, “I may or may not have set up an application on the student homepage— “

The small glimmer of hope washes away, shoulders dropping, fingers coming up to massage your temples.  

“Maya…” You exhale, trying to keep calm, “You know those things don’t fucking work!” 

Roommate compatibility is a fucking scam. No one ever notes how they actually are in the application. You think you’ve found someone that’s clean, quiet, stays out of your space without permission and the next day you find dead roaches under your couch. College attendees have no idea what bleach is and it makes you sick. 

“Damn… you’re usually optimistic.” 

“I’m optimistic about good ideas. I’m gonna be living with a fucking freak from Craigslist, thanks a lot.” 

“C’mooon! You’ll be fine, babe, trust me.” Amaya wraps her arms around your neck once more, wetly smacking your cheek before turning to paddle to her room. “Plus, you’ll meet someone new!”

When you don't follow, she spins. She must’ve noticed your impassiveness, poutingly asking to help me pack? Tears overwhelm your ducts once more, quietly taking her extended hand as she leads you to her bedroom. 

DAY ONE of roommate searching began, and you were already prepared to move back in with your dad. Amaya had enough time to orchestrate the housing agreement with you, making sure to highlight some of your most important characteristics in a roommate. One of the main ones being cleanliness. Some form of organization. 

DAY TWO was easier… Someone finally made it to the in-person interview stage. They didn’t make it far, though; They wouldn’t stop smacking their gum and it drove you crazy. Back to square one. 

DAY SIX came around and you were losing hope; Why are frat boys applying to live with you? You’d rather jump into oncoming traffic than house with any of Abby’s annoying, dirty friends. You've seen their house on numerous occasions and it never fails to make your skin crawl. 

It’s DAY THIRTEEN, and Amaya’s gone. After the sobbing fit with your best friend at the airport earlier, you got back to work. 

DENY REQUEST. 

…

DENY REQUEST. 

…

DENY REQUEST. 

You sigh in exhaustion and lean back in your chair. If you don't take a break from your screen in the next five seconds, your eyes will bleed. 

Why are people… so odd? 

The number of applications you’ve had to deny in the last week is criminal; Why are cis-het men continuously filling out applications knowing they’re not welcome in your space?! 

Even the people that made it to the in-person interview stage are incapable of being… not strange. You’d rather die than live with someone who collects dead maggots in mason jars (yes, you did almost call the police when they described their fascination with death in depth)!

All you need is one fruitful application with an identity to match! Just one. 

Amaya still calls from New York whenever she has a moment of peace to see how the roomie-search is going, but you can’t ignore the sadness that fills your heart every time she misses a call. Her laughter is gone, and your day-to-day life feels empty. 

They’re already working your bestie to the bone; You hope she can feel your encouragement from thousands of miles away. 

You scroll and click, scroll and click, scroll and deny deny deny until you pause, your eyes skimming over the application with a familiar name. 

ELLIE WILLIAMS. 

Ellie from stats, you instantly recognize. Curiosity perks and your brows furrow, sipping lukewarm tea as you skim over her contact information, her pet preferences, all the way down to her additional commentary. A snicker left at her blunt statement. 

temporary request. my last roommate moved and i’m poor. just waiting on this job approval. 

… Ellie in a nutshell. How relatable.

At least she’s not a complete stranger. Every interaction with her stirs in your mind as you jot her number down on a lone sticky-note. They were nothing special from your perspective: the two of you exchanging notes, her holding the door open as everyone scurried out of class, you asking for a pencil (and her asking for it back after the lecture), and you can’t help but wonder why she would want to apply to share a space with anyone, let alone you. 

She's only ever been described as standoffish by your peers. From the outside, Ellie’s blank. Flat tone, flat expression, plain appearance, and the fact that you never know what she’s thinking is unsettling. You’re thrown off your game whenever she’s near and you hate it. 

But the spot is temporary; Amaya will be back in a couple of months, and it seems Ellie’s leaving sometime soon by her small note. 

You down the rest of your tea and stretch where you sit, pondering. Trying to imagine Ellie in your space.

“I don’t know why I can’t take Maya’s spot. I’d make an excellent roommate.” 

Your expression flattens, glare piercing through your good friend. 

Abby scoffs, “C’mooon! I mind my business...” She pauses, leaning across the table, nearly knocking your coffee over. Her whispers send a shock down your spine, “…and I give good head. I’m a package deal.” 

A brow raises. Abby’s sweeter than candy and she puts it down, but you already made the mistake of living with someone you fucked before, and you vowed to never do it again. If Amaya hadn’t given you a place to stay after the blow up between you and your ball-throwing sneaky link, you’re not sure where you'd be. Definitely not a student; The stress would’ve forced you to collapse. And drop out. 

“Sorry, stink. Not happening.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She takes a sip from her drink, “Can’t believe you’d let that freak in before me.” 

You pause. “You’re a freak, too— “

“I’m the good kind!” She searches like someone’s watching her, voice dropping to a whisper, “Ellie’s fucking weird, dude. When’s the last time you’ve seen her interact with anyone? A literal fucking NPC. All she’s programmed to do is stand and look.” 

“And give out pencils,” You interject with a snicker, “Who cares. I don’t like most of the idiots here, either. I barely put up with your ass.” 

Abby raises her glove-covered palms in surrender, “Fuck it. When I see an alert about a missing student, I’ll know who it is.” 

“You’re so fucking extra— “

DING!

Your neck cranes towards the opening cafe door, shock surging through your body at the sight of the NPC in question. Ellie silently stands at the back of the line, headphones secured on her head and nose red from the cold, classically bored expression plastered on her face. 

“Oh, this is hilarious,” Abby huffs, “Go greet your new housemate.” 

Another glare is sent in her direction, “Can you shut up? Her name’s not on any lease. I barely talked to her.”  

“Do it now, then. Triple dog dare you.” Abby smirks behind her cup. 

You sigh and raise from your seat, “You’re a cunt.” 

“The wettest. Go.” 

You flick her forehead before making your way over to Ellie, who’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Her sniffles get louder with each step you take, metal music blasting through her speakers. 

You tap her shoulder and she jumps, sliding one of her ear cups over to hear. 

“Hey, Ellie,” you smile politely. 

“… Sup,” she mutters hoarsely, turning her body towards you, eyes filled with… nothing. Expected. 

Silence passes, and you fill it, “I got your app yesterday. Just wanted to come and introduce myself.” 

“Alright.” 

More silence. You can see Abby out the corner of your eye, mockingly swiping her tongue between her index and middle finger. You flush and stutter, and Ellie’s staring like you have two heads. 

“I, uh… yeah. I’ve been having interviews with some people that submitted a form. You free sometime this week?” 

“Uhh…” She glances down at her phone. “Yeah. Around five tomorrow.” 

More silence. Fuck, this is awkward. 

“… Cool.” You pull your phone out and text her saved number, the alarm ringing from her phone. “That’s me. Just call before you stop by.” 

She nods and turns her back to you, cranking her music to full volume. You gawkily shuffle where you stand before hustling back to your table, Abby cackling to herself. You plop down and kick her under the table, but she laughs harder. 

“What’d I say!” 

“Not a thing,” You hiss, “She’s just a little awkward. It’s not that serious.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“Oh yeah what.” 

“She’s definitely your fucking housemate.” She tsks in disappointment before a smirk appears, her eyes darkening. “Can I eat it one last time before she moves in?” 

A jolt surges in your tummy, your hand closing into a fist. You kick her again and she giggles. 

Time passes as you and Abby’s conversation carries on like normal. Another ding rings through the coffee shop after some time, and you watch Ellie’s backpack bounce as she rushes down the sidewalk; Abby’s rambles about a soccer player she’s trying to smash sound like gibberish. 

Ellie has a Spider-Man charm and laminated polaroid latched onto her zipper. 

… Cute. 

You’re going to fail statistics over a random.

Your professor’s voice sounds like white noise; Every pause she takes is used as an opportunity to sneak glances at Ellie. None of your notes are useful; The doodles and sloppy scribbles are solidifying that incoming F, for sure. Only fifteen minutes until you’re out of here. 

She’s two seats down from you, jotting down whatever she deems necessary for the midterm. You didn’t even register her answering the professor’s question, her rosy lips curving around her teeth with each syllable. 

Ellie blinks slowly, twice, three times before her eyes lock with yours, brows furrowed, evidently confused at your gawking. 

Your stomach drops with your gaze, fingers curled tightly around your pencil. 

The lecture finally comes to a close as your thoughts flurry, wordlessly shoving your books into your bag. A light tap on your shoulder yanks your attention. 

Ellie stands before you, puffer cinched under the bands of her backpack and cheeks just as rosy as before. 

“Hey. Can we switch the time?” 

“Huh?” Don’t stare, don’t stare. 

She sighs, “The time for the interview. Can we change it?” 

You blink dumbly, “Uh… sure. To what time?” 

Agitation creases her brows. “Now. Something came up and I can’t miss it.” She pauses, eyes flicking awkwardly around the room, weakly adding, “If that’s okay.” 

“Um… yeah, no problem…” You peer at the clock on the wall, “You want a coffee?” 

A slight wince from her. “… Yup.” 

She clearly doesn’t by the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on her thigh, but you nod nonetheless, hurriedly grabbing your belongings and leading her down to the student lounge. 

“I don’t want you thinking this interview is one-sided,” You pray your gentle smile is calming the evident nerves of the freckled girl. “You can ask me anything you want, as well. If you have any concerns, any questions, shoot.” 

Ellie’s eyes are glued to her coffee cup, but her head bobs, expression void. Silence simmers between you. 

“I usually start these off with an icebreaker to get the jitters out! Just list three facts about yourself and I’ll follow.” 

Ellie’s lone hand comes up to scratch underneath her ear before meeting your gaze. Her eyes are so pretty; Too bad there’s nothing behind them. 

“Or I can go, sure, so!” Your hands clap together, “I’ll start with myself. I’m majoring in graphic design, I’m secretly a theater nerd, and I dream about owning an eggplant farm.” 

The girl before you clearly didn't expect that last statement. Her brows crease and the corner of her lip arches upward in a barely-there smile. Foreign to her face. 

“That’s not a fact,” She mutters, the shell in her pupils cracking. Just slightly. 

“Who cares, I love eggplant. Best vegetable by a landslide.” 

“Sike.” 

You scoff in disbelief, “What?” 

“Everybody on the planet knows that squash is god-tier— “

You squint, “Squash? Are you deadass?”

“It’s fucking versatile!” Ellie’s voice pitches higher, and your grin widens, “You can put it in everything and you don’t have to do much. Eggplant sucks up everything in the pan and still comes out soggy and tasteless— “

Choked laughter leaves your mouth, “If you don’t know how to cook, just say that.” 

Her mouth drops in exaggerated shock. “I know how to fuckin’ cook.” 

“Right.” 

“I do, what the he— “

“Fun fact about Ellie: she can’t cook!” You kiddingly sneer. She chuckles and shakes her head, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. You almost miss her statement, “I take pictures.” 

“Hm?” 

“I wanna be a professional photographer... At some point. I take pic— “

Ellie’s phone vibrates on the table and she leaps into action, snatching her bag from beside her and standing from her seat. 

“Wait— “

“I gotta go,” She mutters as she straps her bag around her shoulders. “Sorry. See you later.” 

Ellie throws some bills on the table before dipping, her phone pressed against her ear, rambling about making time. She barely touched her coffee. 

Could’ve been worse, you utter to yourself. 

Days pass, and you don’t hear from Ellie. 

When you saw her in stats two days after the interview, she hardly acknowledged you, morphing into the hermit that you knew her to be. You noted how tired she looked, though. You would’ve asked if she were okay if she hadn’t run out of class without a word. 

You’re weighing your options: allowing a random oddball into your apartment, or allowing a random oddball who hates eggplant into your apartment. Rent is due next week, and Amaya’s space is still vacant. 

At this point, the roster is almost nonexistent, and Ellie was the least concerning candidate. Despite Abby’s concern, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to bury dead bodies in the front lawn. 

“I dunno, friend. She’s a little weird. Getting mad incel vibes from her.” 

Your eyes roll back into your skull as you munch on cashews, “You’re getting vibes from someone you never talked to. She seemed cool at the interview.” 

“Yeah, 'cause vegetable debates are so note-worthy,” Amaya scoffs. 

She’s starting to sound a little too much like Abby, “I think y’all are forgetting that this is a temporary solution. I’m not tryna spend the rest of my fucking life with her! I need rent paid and she needs a place to stay for a few months.” 

Your best friend’s sigh drags through the line, “Alright… It seems like you made up your mind.” 

“Like I said, rent is due. I don’t have many options.” 

“Stop stressing. You found my replacement, apparently.” 

She pauses before hollering, “BITCH, IT’S SATURDAY! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU INSIDE? WHERE’S ABBY?” 

“Out smashing soccer players.” You huff. 

“Damn… My fault.” 

“I’m chilling. I just need head.” 

“Go out! Find somebody!” 

You groan, “Then I’ll have to shave— “

“Nair exists, you bonehead! Just go! You keep calling in a bad mood and it’s getting on my nerves!” 

You ponder and glance at your digital clock. It’s not even ten… Abby did tell you that Kappa was throwing.

“I can hear the engines turning in your big head. Bye.” 

Laughter explodes from you at the dial tone. 

“Hey, Siri… call Abby.” 

“CALLING ABBY BIG DICK SLUT— “

Tonight has been a blur since you left your apartment. 

You remember making it halfway through Blam Boom before your speaker died, downing your last couple of shots of 1800, and Ubering to the location Abby pinged. 

It only took a few minutes for her to scoop you up onto the packed kitchen counter and shove her tongue in your mouth. One shout of I’m horny from you and she was yours for the rest of the night. 

Now you’re pressed up against some bathroom sink upstairs, Abby’s head shaking between your legs, your jeans and underwear flung onto the shower rail. Each flick of her tongue is both clumsy and precise, applying pressure exactly where you need it. 

Your clit’s throbbing under her tongue, the muscle igniting the flame in your tummy as your climax builds, zaps in your spine. Cries of her name meld with the booming music from outside, the walls rattling like nerves in your toes. 

Abby’s gorgeous under you, you know it, the drunk part of your brain knows it, your desperate cunt knows it, but you’re no longer thinking about her compared to earlier. Your mind is elsewhere, somewhere it shouldn’t be. 

You’re thinking of freckles. Green eyes instead of blue. Chapped, rosy lips, and you don’t know why. But you succumb to it. Ellie’s trapped underneath your eyelids, crowding your senses, your empty head suddenly full of images of her in any way you could conjure. 

Your orgasm shatters you, but you’re silent, trembling hand glued over your mouth as Abby groans in your cunt. She’s a doll, easing you back down to earth, dragging your underwear and pants up your shaky legs and getting you back home safely. 

When you’re showered and your teeth are brushed, she tucks you in, gently kissing your forehead. You beg her to stay with you, but she declines with I know how you get before silently departing. 

Your phone is squeezed between your fingers after minutes of trying to sleep, eyeing Ellie’s saved contact until darkness overtakes you. 

The pounding on your door is worse than the ones from inside your skull. Fuck Tequila, from the bottom of your heart. Waves of nausea crash over you with every waddle, hobbling your hunched form over to yank the front door open. 

A bored Ellie stands in front of you, a large camera and headphones hanging from her neck, seemingly cozy in her sweater and puffer, large duffel bags packed to the brim with clothes dangling from her shoulders. Your cheeks warm instantly. Gray sweats, gray sweats—

“I’m here,” She states plainly. 

“… Why?” You croak.

Ellie’s seems just as confused as you, her eyes piercing as if her appearance is obvious. 

“To move in.” 

“… Why?”

Ellie sighs and snags her phone from her jacket pocket, swiping a few times before nearly blinding you with her screen. 

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. When the fuck did you send that? 

“So, I’m here,” she slips her device back in her pocket. “Which room am I in?” 

“E-Ellie, uh… there's been a mis— “

“Look,” she holds her pale, veiny hands up. “I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. I got evicted and I need a place to stay until I secure this job. I’m willing to put down whatever’s needed for rent but I don’t have time to bullshit.” 

Ellie proceeds, sarcasm slipping, “Respectfully.” 

She pushes past your stunned form, bags accidentally brushing against your bare legs. You can't even move to stop her; You merely watch Ellie shuffle to inspect the living room, the small kitchen, pausing in front of the abstract painting you made for your dad before eventually moving down the hall and into Amaya’s empty space. How the fuck did she get in the building, anyway?

Your deer-like eyes lock with her void, mossy ones as she peers over her shoulder. 

“I still have some stuff to pick up. Please leave my key under the mat if you go somewhere.” 

Before she enters the empty room next to yours, you hear her gruffly say, “Leave the lease on the table so I can sign it, too.”

Amaya’s — Ellie’s door slams shut seconds later, the soft click of the door locking follows suit. 

…

What the fuck just happened. Gall almost surpasses your anger. The audacity...

For the first time, you’re grateful that your shift is in two hours. You need to get the fuck out of here before you cause a scene and catch a case. 

tagggiiiesss missed yall ;3 : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane

[dixons-sunshine]

Doggie Bath | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was bath time for your daughter. However, she refused to take a bath unless Dog bathed first, and the furry companion refused to comply with Daryl's requests. Luckily, Dog loved you and would easily comply with your wishes.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Post Bridge (Not mentioned, but Rick doesn't go missing and the Leah plot never happened, hence Daryl being in Alexandria.)

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive themes towards the end.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/n: I don't know what this is. I had an idea pop up and I tried to get it written down, but not very well lol. However, I hope you like this!

“Dog, c'mon. Jus' this once, buddy,” Daryl practically pleaded with his furry companion, desperately trying to lead Dog towards the bathtub and into the water, but to no avail. “I'll cook ya a squirrel if ya do this fer me.”

In your arms, your three year old was happily giggling as she watched her dad struggle due to something she requested. “Go, Doggie, go!” Hazel happily babbled as she clapped her hands for added emphasis. “Pick up, Daddy. Put in water.”

You were seated on the closed lid of the toilet with Hazel in your arms as you watched in amusement as your husband struggled with the big dog. “Yeah, babe, pick him up. Put him in the water.”

Daryl shot a small glare in your direction. “The hell ya think I've been doin'?” Dog suddenly barked loudly, making Daryl flinch and your daughter burst out into laughter. Daryl looked at Hazel with a playful glare, but the smile on his lips betrayed his true emotions. “Oh, s'this funny to ya, Hazelnut? How 'bout I put ya into the bathtub first?”

Hazel gasped and hid her face in your neck. “No! Mama, Daddy mean. He promised. He breaking promise.”

You let out a small chuckle and rubbed her back affectionately. You looked at Daryl and shared a smile with him. “You can't break your promise to our daughter, Dar.” Your eyes moved down to look at Dog, who defiantly laid on the ground with no intention of setting his paws into the water. “The deal was Dog, and then Hazel. You can't go back on your word now.”

Daryl groaned in frustration. “He won't fuckin' listen. He—” Daryl suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, all colour draining from his face. His eyes flickered back to Hazel, praying for the first time in his life; he really prayed that Hazel hadn't heard his little slip up. However, Hazel appeared ignorant to his mistake, making Daryl sigh in relief. “Oh, thank god.”

You laughed and lowered Hazel from your lap and onto the floor, handing her your necklace to play with. “Stay here, baby. Mama needs to help Daddy bathe Dog. Daddy can't do it without Mama's help.”

Hazel giggled and started toying with the arrow on the necklace you gave her to play with—a gift that had been given to you by Daryl many years ago.—and nodded. “Mama gonna get it right. Daddy learn from Mama.”

Daryl smiled fondly down at his daughter and shook his head. “Ya have a lot'a faith in yer dear ol' dad, huh?” He stepped back and allowed you to approach Dog, who excitedly wagged his tail and nudged his nose into your hand. “Good luck with tha', Sunshine. If he ain't gon' listen to me, wha' makes ya think—” With little to no effort, you urged Dog into the bathtub, the puppy in a grown dog's body excitedly splashing around in the water, nearly soaking both you and Daryl . Daryl sighed and shook his head. “I thought ya were on my side, Dog. Fu—Freakin' traitor.”

You laughed and scratched Dog's chin. “Good boy.” Dog barked happily and moved around in the water, luckily making no attempts to jump out of the bathtub. You turned your head and sent your husband a cheeky smile. “What can I say? He's a total ladies' man.”

Daryl hummed, his eyes narrowed at his furry friend. “Would be alrigh' if he wasn't tryna impress my girl with his tactics.” He stepped back and leaned down, picking Hazel up and adjusting her in his arms. “Ain't tha' righ', Hazelnut? Dog's tryna steal Mama from us?” He gently started tickling her on her stomach, eliciting shrieks of laughter from his baby girl. He chuckled and pressed a soft, tender kiss to her temple. “Dun' worry. I won't let Dog steal her from us. He'll have to fight me fer her.”

You smiled at the two people you loved the most in the whole world fondly. You leaned forward to grab the dog shampoo—something Daryl found while on a run and something you were surprised actually still existed in the now messed up world you existed in—and lathered some onto your hands. “You just gonna stand there and look pretty, Dixon, or are you gonna help?”

“Hmm,” Daryl hummed as he pretended to think about your question, gently rocking Hazel in his arms as she lowered her head to rest on his shoulder. “Nah. I think ya got it. 'Sides, yer clearly tha' traitor's favourite. He'll stay still for ya.”

You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. “So you're leaving this all up to me while you, what, watch?”

Daryl took your prior spot on the closed lid of the toilet. “M'holdin' our daughter. Ain't tha' the excuse ya used earlier when I originally asked fer yer help?”

“Touché, Dixon, touché.”

Daryl chuckled again and smoothed his hand over Hazel's back. All fell silent between the two of you after that. Dog was relatively still while you washed all the grime from his coat, only moving whenever you tried to wash his paws. In a little over ten minutes, Dog was completely clean and more than eager to leave the cooling water. Before you could even attempt to towel dry him, Dog was shaking himself off, sending water flying in every direction.

Daryl shielded Hazel from the onslaught of droplets. “Dog, no!” Dog simply barked and made a run out of the door, leaving wet footprints in his wake. Your husband simply rolled his eyes and shook his head, standing up from the toilet and holding Hazel close to his chest. “Fuckin' hell. M'wetter than a drownt rat righ' now.”

You laughed and nodded, standing up and wiping the water from your body. You turned to Daryl and eyed your daughter in his arms, a look of realization dawning on you. “She's asleep, isn't she?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. She fell asleep almost fifteen minutes ago.”

You shook your head and allowed a small smile to spread over your face. “Well, at least Dog's clean.” You took a step forward and pressed a soft kiss to Hazel's head. “Let's just put this little Gremlin to bed. We'll bathe her first thing tomorrow morning.”

Daryl nodded and leaned forward, capturing your lips in a quick, loving kiss. He pulled back and gave you a small, fond smile. “I love ya, Peach.”

“I love you too, Dar,” you replied softly, caressing his cheek. Hazel started stirring in the archer's arms, making your breath hitch. Luckily she only adjusted her head on her dad's shoulder, making you sigh in relief. “I think that's a sign that we should get her to bed. And after that, how about we watch a movie in our room?”

“Yeah,” Daryl quickly agreed, nodding eagerly. “Let's go.”

Daryl knew exactly what you meant by that. The television that came with the small house you lived in with Daryl and your daughter was located downstairs in the living room. There wasn't a television in your shared room. However, with a little one running around and needing to speak in codes around her innocent ears, that particular code translated to something else, something much more enjoyable.

And after Hazel was put to bed, Daryl wasted no time in rushing you to your room and gently pushing you onto the bed for some much deserved “movie watching.”

[purple-babygirl]

in the far corner of the forest IV

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: mentions of hand injury, idiots in love, feels, jealousy, racism against orcs, angry behaviour, shouting, fight gets slightly physical, bruised arm, crying, angst (i'm sorry). I think that's all.

A/N: good news result in long chapters. thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone who has wished me good luck with my interview, you guys are angels. please enjoyxx💜💜

~

“You’re in love.”

“I’m what now!?” Bucky chuckled dismissively as he dropped his axe.

Bucky had spent half a day at home, refraining from going to work because of his hand’s condition, but as much as he loved staying home with her, he knew he wasn’t made to take a break.

So he thought he would visit, talk to Sam for a bit and maybe get some pent up ‘feelings’ out on some tree logs. His metal arm was still working just fine after all.

“I said, you’re in love with your human wife,” Sam repeated, smiling so warmly that Bucky wanted to smack him.

“I got her a few weeks ago.” Bucky shook his head in denial of the mere idea of him falling for anyone, let alone a human.

He did love Sam and Sarah, but that was it. They were the only humans he could tolerate. He hated the rest of them. Hell, he hated the human half of himself.

Bucky was just trying to make life easier for himself, that was all. He has been through enough conflicts and he didn’t need this in his marriage too. He deserved to live a normal life like everybody else.

Yes, he was courting her, and maybe he did constantly crave the feel of her body against his ever since she let him hug her the night of the injury, and he was definitely getting hopeful now that she hadn’t tried to run for a whole half day, but that didn’t mean he was in love! Did it?

“And now you’re in love with her.” Sam smirked, knowing how much it drove Bucky crazy that a female human had him on his knees for her love.

“Quit saying that!” Bucky stood up, ready to walk away from his annoying friend.

“Why does it make you so angry that you’re in lo—”

“Don’t,” Bucky warned him, eyes angry and glaring.

“—ve?”

“I am not in love with her, okay! She’s human! Plus, that girl drives me crazy! Do you know how many times I had to bring her back after she’d tried to run in the first two weeks? Five fucking times! That’s almost once every two days, Sam. And she only had one foot working!” Bucky ranted heatedly, desperate to negate his best friend’s theory.

Was he in love with her? And if Sam could see it, did that mean she could too?

“Well, why do you care to bring her back? Why not just let her run?” Sam shrugged, internally dying for Bucky to acknowledge his feelings.

“She could die out there! Humans are weak.”

“So?” Sam probed, intentionally ignoring Bucky’s remark about humans’ strength.

“So— so I signed all those things when she was offered to me. She can’t— I can’t—”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t let her get hurt,” Bucky admitted lowly, sitting down on a log with a loud sigh.

“Why does that make you so upset?” Sam dug deeper.

“Because I think you’re right. I think I might be in love with her.” Bucky rubbed his eye with his good hand, pushing his hair back angrily.

“And?”

“And she thinks I’m the devil.” Bucky’s face fell to his palms.

“Did she ever say that to you out loud?” Sam asked, touching the end of his sharpened blade.

“She doesn’t need to, Sam. I see it in her eyes every time I find her after she’d tried to run away.” Bucky’s voice was broken like his friend has never heard before.

“I thought you said everything was better after your injury?”

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna last forever.” Bucky gave a sad grin, “she’s soon gonna go back to seeing me the same as before.”

“Well, it’s up to you to change her mind, Buck.” Sam patted his friend’s shoulder, giving a squeeze.

Bucky sighed once more before getting up.

Sam was a human. A very handsome one with much less scars and non-icy skin. He would never understand. It would never work. She hated him.

He could continue trying, but it wouldn’t change anything of the way she felt about him and their marriage. She had told him time and time again how she felt about both.

“Going home already?”

“Yeah, I can’t miss the running away bit. It’s my favourite,” he sighed, Sam's laugh trailing behind him.

“Smile at her for a change.”

“Shut up.” I do smile at her. I only ever smile at her.

“Sarah loved the jam by the way!” Sam yelled.

“I’ll let her know!” Bucky yelled back before exhaling sadly.

Sam would never understand. Her taking pity on him those past couple of hours was nothing more than sympathy and likely even guilt.

Sam would never understand that of all the eyes in the world, it seems like Bucky has managed to fall for the only ones that knew how to hurt him, the eyes that would only look at him as a disgusting, frightening monster.

~

When Bucky got home, everything was creepily in place. His door was closed like he had left it and he actually had to use his key to open it for the first time in a while.

Stepping inside, the warm smell of roast chicken welcomed him back.

The house was warm because all the windows were actually shut, too. It was all so calm and homely; the orc was seriously worried.

And then he heard it: his human wife’s sweet voice, humming the melody of a song unfamiliar to him. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

Bucky carefully shut the door behind him, not wanting her peaceful mood to end so soon as he tried to take lighter steps to where she was.

Much to his dismay though, she needed something from the other side of the kitchen and when she turned around she saw Bucky and gasped, jumping embarrassingly high.

“You scared me!” She whined, holding a hand to her heart.

“Sorry.” Bucky smirked, entertained by how cute she looked when startled.

“Welcome home,” she mumbled with a bit-back grin, holding onto his forearms before getting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

She never told him, but she was unbelievably thankful when he didn’t specify which type of kiss he expected weeks ago, and even more thankful when he didn’t object to her pecking his cheek before burying herself under the covers.

Life with Bucky has gotten undeniably familiar lately and leaving him was all of a sudden an idea that didn’t interest her as much as before.

Everything he was saying and doing has brought her closer to him without her even comprehending it.

As the days passed, she had realized running away was too exhausting, too risky, and for what? It wasn’t like she had a home to run to or a treasure buried somewhere or a lover worth escaping her orc for.

Her orc.

Hers.

A word she never felt the meaning of until the day Bucky made her his wife.

Bucky was the first and only one to present to her a taste of something she has never had: the feeling of exclusively owning things.

The smile that graced her face when she brushed her hair the first time with the brush Bucky got her was new and unprecedented.

Her brush, he called it.

Her shoes. Her chair. Her towel. Her clothes. Her books. Her side of the bed. Her cottage. Her kitchen.

And her husband.

Everything was brand new and completely hers.

Nothing was handed down to her, nothing was used before the minute her fingers had touched it. None of the things Bucky gifted her had previous owners, including him and his heart.

Most importantly, she didn’t have to share any of it with anybody.

“You’re home,” Bucky said, a surprised yet very happy smile lighting up his handsome features.

“I thought the wife was supposed to say that,” she replied playfully, going back to the bubbling pot.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at the good mood she seemed to be in. He was liking this.

He watched her sprinkle some black pepper into the soup as he came behind her.

She could feel the heat of his body surrounding her even when they weren’t touching and it had her heartbeat going crazy.

“Thank you, little human,” Bucky whispered, before he leaned down and pecked her cheek as well, his stubble and blunt tusks tickling her jaw.

She felt her whole body jolt with electricity at the simple graze of his lips and tusks on her skin as she closed her eyes.

Bucky left the kitchen and went to the bathroom but she was still hot as if his warmth never left her.

And when she opened her eyes and absentmindedly reached her fingertips to touch her cheek, she found herself smiling too.

What was happening to her? What was this foreign feeling lifting her off of her feet in the middle of the kitchen?

“Sam’s sister loved your strawberry jam by the way!” Bucky shouted to her from the bathroom, making her jump again before smiling to herself.

He didn’t use Sarah’s name on purpose, not wanting to ruin her happy mood as he had noticed how angry she got every time he would say it.

“I’ll make her more tomorrow!” She replied with a grin, proud of her hand’s work, her jealousy long forgotten after Bucky’s words of the night before.

After all, how could she be jealous when she was the one that Bucky was looking at like that?

~

When she finished setting up the table and Bucky didn’t come out of the bathroom, she got a little worried.

He never took too long during his showers, and now that he only had one arm to use, she thought he would cut his showers even shorter.

What if his wound was bleeding again and he didn’t want to tell her and was trying to fix it by himself inside the bathroom? She knew she should have stopped him from going to the yard!

“Bucky.” She knocked on the door softly, wanting to make sure he was okay.

“Yes, little human?” Bucky instantly opened the door for her.

And he looked like a dream.

Steam has surrounded him inside the bathroom, water drops from his still-wet hair dripping down his muscular, bare chest and for the first time since Bucky has been naked around her, she found herself looking at him. Actually looking.

Bucky’s chest was so broad, beefy and ribbed down to his abdomen. Scars of all sizes and shapes littered the beautiful, icy greyish skin, a reminder of the battles he had fought and all the sacrifices he had made.

Her heart clenched at the sight, a pang of sympathy coursing through her as she could only imagine the pain he must have had to endure.

Still, she found her hands tingling in curiosity, desperate to know what tracing the healed skin would feel like under her fingertips.

Bucky was a sight for sore eyes, a sight that both captivated and unnerved her, stirring a flurry of unfamiliar emotions in her chest that she struggled to contain.

She averted her gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

“Are—” she chocked, her voice barely above a whisper as she coughed it out, “are you okay? You took a while.”

“Yeah, I’m just having a hard time drying up my hair with one arm,” Bucky reassured her, chuckling lightly at his dilemma as he let the towel around his neck drop.

He was completely oblivious to the way he just made her face burn up as her thoughts spiraled out of control.

“Come.” She took Bucky’s hand in hers, careful not to squeeze his palm, and led him outside to their bed.

It took Bucky a second to move his feet, but when he did, he felt like he was being carried on top of a cloud.

She felt herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness, curiosity and… desire. A new sensation was tingling all over her body, specifically in places she didn’t need to be tingling right now.

Positioning herself between his parted legs, she reached to take the towel from around Bucky’s neck.

His eyes watched her, surprise flickering in them as he realized what she was going to do, unable to believe what was happening.

Sensing her nervousness, Bucky offered her a reassuring, grateful smile, silently encouraging her to continue.

And as she began to carefully pat his damp hair dry, her touch tentative and her eyes focused, he felt warmth welling up inside him.

She couldn’t help but steal glances at his bare shoulder and chest, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the engrossing sight. It was a feeling unlike anything she has ever experienced before, her heart racing with unparalleled excitement.

The awkwardness of the situation began to fade bit by bit as she focused more on the task at hand, in its place growing an overwhelming sense of closeness and familiarity.

Bucky’s hair was so soft under her fingertips as she took the towel up and down the brown locks. She wished she had given herself a chance to touch it more before.

As she finished drying her orc’s hair, she met his gaze with a shy bite of her lip, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.

Bucky reached out to take her hands, his smile appreciative as his lips pressed a deep kiss on each palm, silently thanking her for her kindness and care.

~

“I didn’t know your cooking was so good. You surprise me every day,” Bucky praised, as she filled his mouth with more lentil soup, trying not to think of his conversation with Sam or the way his body was still on fire from the mere act of her drying his hair for him.

He couldn’t even believe she was feeding him after seeing him struggle to keep the food on his spoon using his left hand.

“All the girls at the orphanage know how to cook. They teach us all sorts of things and make us to be good housewives,” she replied, suddenly nostalgic of her days at the orphanage, curious to know how, where and when Bucky got the chance to see her back then.

Bucky didn’t say anything, busying his mouth with chewing some bread as his smile shrank.

She didn’t look happy. Why did she stay then? Was she planning on running away at night that day? Maybe she put something in the food?

“I’m glad you like your dinner though,” she said, breaking the thick silence with a soft smile as she fed the orc a piece of chicken.

“Why didn’t you try to leave today?” Bucky couldn’t hold back.

She was taken aback by his question. She thought he wanted her here.

Was he finally done? Did he want her out? Was he not going to look for her this time? Has Bucky given up on her? Was he going to leave her be had she gotten out today?

Most importantly, she didn’t know how to answer because it seemed like she was done running away from her new life with him, and she didn’t know if she could admit that.

“I– did you want me to?” She asked, her voice strained as she tried to hold in the tears.

“No! No, of course not!” He assured her quickly.

“Then?” She chewed on her lip.

“I don’t want you to stop running if it makes you feel alive,” Bucky told her, his blue eyes gushing with love he didn’t intend to show, “I’m willing to go to the ends of the earth to find you.”

“What?” She wasn’t expecting this at all, all the tingles she had hardly managed to shake off after drying Bucky’s wet hair coming back to attack her.

How were these words coming out of an orc! And why did they make her heart stutter in its beats?

“I love your fiery spirit and I’m afraid I’m killing it by keeping you here against your wishes. I never want to be the one to snuff your fire out.” Bucky admitted, eyes sincere as he watched her.

She just stared at him for a moment, stunned as her heart skipped yet another beat.

If he only knew that he was the one who had managed to bring this fiery personality to life.

Bucky respected her silence and went back to enjoying his dinner, not wanting to push her for a reply. She could take her time.

She kept staring at him in confusion for another minute before taking her almost untouched plate and getting up.

She almost ran to the kitchen with her hand on her heart.

What was going on with her? Her heart wasn’t seriously beating this loud for the orc. Could it be?

He sounded so selfless and spoke so gently like he has never before and she was overwhelmed.

His words were doing things to her that she has never felt before. What was wrong with her?

She knew she had caught herself staring at him without a shirt just minutes ago, maybe admiring his eyelashes as he slept in some early mornings, but she rendered it curiosity and nothing more.

She shook her head, her thoughts startling to her as she emptied her plate in the garbage and started washing it vigorously.

Bucky no longer had an appetite, sighing at her reaction.

He told himself he could understand, but it was still hurtful the way she jumped out of her chair.

He left his plate on the table, not wanting to invade her privacy by going to the kitchen before leaving the cottage altogether.

He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

~

She revisited the subject the same afternoon though, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings between her and Bucky. Not any longer.

“I don’t wanna leave anymore,” she admitted timidly, making Bucky’s smile betray him and his usual frowning.

“But I don’t like being locked away in here all day either,” she said carefully, scared to upset him.

“Where do you wanna go? The forest is dangerous, little human.” Bucky was back to frowning at the thought of anything bad happening to her again.

It was torture for him when her foot was still healing and he was the most relieved when it finally did. He couldn’t just let her roam around when she didn’t know the area.

“Take me out when you come back from work maybe? Or even on your day off,” she suggested, desperate to see the world.

“And go where?”

“Anywhere. We can walk around the woods before it gets dark, you could show me your shop, I could meet Sam? Or we could even go to the market!” She suggested eagerly.

She has been locked up for so long and she didn’t want to continue her life like this.

Bucky actually thought about it and he didn’t hate the idea. Taking her out with him would ensure her safety. He would be by her side and he would protect her. He also liked the thought of taking her out and properly courting her even if she didn’t know that that was what he was doing.

He said he didn’t want to kill her spirit by keeping her in here and she gave him the solution.

“Okay.” Bucky nodded at her with a smile.

“Okay?” She exclaimed happily, not believing Bucky would actually take her out to see around.

“Okay.” He nodded again reassuringly, her happiness making him laugh.

“Well, don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked suggestively, gesturing to his hand.

Bucky laughed, nodding, “put your shoes on.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She involuntarily gave his healing hand a squeeze, kissing his cheek before running to get her shoes.

Bucky swallowed hard, hoping he would be able to hold himself together and not completely melt under her sweet company.

“You’ve got to promise me though,” he said.

She looked at him questioningly as she slipped one foot into a shoe.

“No running away, little human.”

“No running away. Promise.” She promised, shaking her head with a shy smile.

Bucky smiled big, taking her smaller hand in his as she grabbed her basket in the other, ready to browse the market with her husband.

Her husband. That was starting to sound unquestionably comforting.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“What?” She tilted her head with a grin.

“You owe me a kiss,” Bucky said, his tone serious.

“No, I don’t! If anything, I just gave you an extra kiss!”

“Yes, you do. From that morning. You’re still one kiss behind!”

“I just made up for it!”

“Doesn’t count. That one covers the night before.” Bucky shrugged, a smile etched on his lips.

“Okay, fine.” She kissed Bucky’s cheek, “stop going around saying other girls’ names though.”

Bucky laughed, “I only know one!”

“Still too many,” she whispered under her breath, but Bucky heard it, smiling from ear to ear as he took his hand in hers, taking the right path out of the woods. ~ It was a beautiful afternoon, full of warm sunshine and fruitful deals. She has got some pretty good stuff for really good prices.

She couldn’t believe Bucky actually gave her pocket money.

He didn’t want her to have to ask him for money every time something caught her eye. He wanted her independent, fulfilled and brave as she bought herself whatever her heart desired.

Her heart was so full and her smile was inerasable.

Bucky didn’t let go of her hand all day and she actually liked it so much that she never complained. The feel of his calloused skin against her soft palm wasn’t like anything she has felt before.

She didn’t want to let go of his hand even while looking at the different stands and booths at the market.

But she eventually liked the flower stand too much and told Bucky she would take a look at them while he continued buying them the fruits he was picking.

“Good afteroon,” a smooth voice interrupted her admiration of the potted plants before her, making her look up for a second.

“Good afternoon.” She smiled coyly.

“Any favorites?” The handsome man inside the booth asked her.

“All of them,” she giggled softly, the sound catching Bucky’s ears at once.

The man laughed back, “okay, I think I have something special for you. How about this one?” He brought her a purple flower from the batch hidden behind him inside the booth.

“Oh, how beautiful! What is this one?” She wondered, amazement sparkling in her eyes at the sight of the pretty petals.

“That is a Globemaster Allium. Pretty, isn’t she?” He asked, staring at her desirously as she looked at the flower.

“Yes, she’s stunning!”

“I’m Cole by the way—”

She heard Bucky clear his throat next to her and looked up at once, the innocent awe in her eyes softening the orc a little.

“Look, Bucky! Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” She pointed to the flower pot excitedly.

Bucky leaned in, his frown scaring her a little, her breath hitching when his lips tickled the shell of her ear, “no, little human, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She chocked on her own saliva, hiding her hot face with her hand as she coughed, “Bucky!” She whined with a shy smile.

Where did that come from!

“Let’s go,” Bucky said with a nod of his head, eyes stern as he glared at Cole.

“Can—” She held his wrist, “can I have it?” She asked softly, gesturing to the flower pot.

Bucky wanted to say no. He didn’t want her to have this farmer’s flower. But he couldn’t say no to those hopeful, beautiful eyes of hers.

“Fine.” He watched her get the money out of her pocket and she smiled gratefully as she almost set them down on Cole’s counter.

“It’s on the house,” Cole said, still smiling dreamily at her.

She could all but swallow as she gave a polite smile back before looking up at Bucky for help.

“Take your goddamn money.” Bucky made a quick job of paying for the flower, taking the money from her and slamming it on the counter, making the whole booth shake.

He quickly took his wife home, deciding that was enough socialization for the both of them for the day.

She wasn’t going to lie, she was loving jealousy on her orc. It felt so intoxicating to have someone love her so much that he was jealous of other men talking to her.

She wouldn’t tell Bucky, but she would probably spend the nights of the next week smiling at the wall every time she remembered how he held her hand back home just a little bit tighter that day.

Her own heart was running wild at the sight of the orc now and she didn’t want it any other way.

~

“Now you know how it feels,” she teased with a smile as they were getting ready for bed.

Bucky couldn’t let it go, talking about how they were never going to stop by that farmer’s flower booth ever again.

“That’s not the same! I was never into Sarah! But that man was openly ogling you!” Bucky grumbled, his frown digging deep into the skin of his forehead.

“He was just being nice, trying to sell his flowers,” she laughed, upsetting Bucky even more.

How couldn’t she see it? The guy was all over her!

“He was flirting and you were all giggles and blushes.” Bucky copied her, going to the bed and burying himself under the covers, facing the wall.

He understood now why she had done that.

“Hey, that’s my spot!” She joked, not knowing if Bucky was being serious.

“Not tonight,” he murmured from underneath the covers.

“Bucky,” she whined, uncovering her orc’s face.

Bucky didn’t reply, pushing himself closer to the wall.

She tried to bring him on his back by the shoulder like he so easily did her a couple of night ago, but he was too strong for her and his body wouldn’t budge.

She huffed, “okay, you left me no choice.”

Bucky remained still, wanting to see what she meant by that as he felt her shift behind him.

Before he knew it, she was on top of his bicep, trying to slot herself between his body and the wall.

“What on earth—”

“You started it, Bucky!” She said, voice determined as she kept pushing, trying to squeeze herself in the small space accessible.

Bucky looked at her in amusement for a second before moving back, making her body drop as larger space became available.

She landed with the tiniest “ouff” on the mattress, facing Bucky on her side with her back to the wall, its coolness helping soothe the heat rising to the surface of her skin.

That was the closest she had been to Bucky since their hug the night of his injury, face to face as his passionate sapphire eyes watched hers.

“Hi,” she whispered, heart in her throat.

“Hi,” Bucky replied with a charming smile, smoothing some of her ruffled strands back in place.

She stared at the orc’s eyes, not the slightest bit scared of the fact that she was trapped against the wall by his huge body.

“You’re not the only one who wants to be loyal to this marriage, Bucky,” she said, surprising Bucky and herself, “I don’t want the farmer. I don’t want anyone else.” but you.

Bucky smiled in disbelief, taken aback by her words, and she took it as permission to move closer to his chest. He instinctively wrapped her up in a protective hug, wondering how he was able to hold himself back from kissing her.

She pushed her face into her orc’s chest, his scent and warmth engulfing her into a protective bubble.

She couldn’t believe she said the words she has just said and it made her bury her burning face deeper in Bucky’s arms.

He could only hug her tighter, his nose in her sweet-smelling hair as his smile grew bigger.

This moment right there was everything Bucky has ever wished for. He could die a happy orc right then and there.

~

It became a habit for them to go out to the village on Bucky’s day off. They were both having a great time, getting closer and falling harder.

Cole hasn’t spoken to her again after learning that the snow orc was actually her husband, and she respected Bucky’s feelings and never approached Cole’s booth no matter how pretty the plants on his stand were.

Market outings were their thing now and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

She didn’t want anyone else’s attention but Bucky’s anyway. His hand has almost fully healed and she could now squeeze it all she wanted whenever she got excited about anything they encountered.

One thing did occur that annoyed her though and that was the way the jewelry lady would look at her every time she and Bucky would pass by. The woman had so much pity in her eyes when she saw her hand in an orc’s and she hated it.

She despised the way people misjudged her orc when he was far better than any human man she could’ve ever ended up with.

Yet, the lady kept giving her those pitiful looks, probably thinking Bucky had enslaved her or something.

But enough was enough.

When Bucky was busy looking at the knives, she made her way to the jewelry lady, determined to put an end to the ridiculousness.

“He is my husband,” she sternly told the lady in the jewelry stand, taking the chance that Bucky wasn’t listening.

“Oh.” The lady quickly gave a kind smile, turning from concerned about her to happy for her, “I apologize for misjudging you, dear. I was only worried about you. We’ve all heard stories about him.”

“Well, that’s all they are. Stories.” She ferociously defended, her eyes still stern.

“I’m sorry,” the woman sincerely expressed her regret, squeezing her hand.

She nodded with a small smile, accepting the older woman’s apology.

“I don’t see a ring on your hand.” The jewelry lady gestured to the collection of rings in her glass box with a wink.

“Oh.”

The sentence caught Bucky’s ears as he turned away to look at her embarrassed face.

“We didn’t get time to buy one. It all happened so quickly,” she explained awkwardly and Bucky’s expression fell.

“I have a pretty collection if you wanna take a look, and don’t worry about the price,” the older lady suggested kindly.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Choose what you like, sweet thing,” Bucky whispered to her, immediately by her side when he saw her eyes skimming over the jewelry, “I’m sorry I’m not familiar with the human marriage traditions. I should’ve gotten you one sooner.”

“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to,” she reassured with a tender smile.

She didn’t need a ring to know that she was Bucky’s.

“I want to. I want you to wear my ring, little human.” Bucky raised her hands to his lips, placing the softest kisses on her each finger.

Her heart surged as a shy smile spread on her lips, heat rising to her cheeks.

“Okay.” She nodded happily, feeling like she was in a dream and she never wanted to wake up.

Though very expensive, Bucky ended up buying her the ring she chose. It was the prettiest gold ring with a moss agate blue diamond.

She tried to talk him out of it, wanting to pick something cheaper, but Bucky wouldn’t have it.

She has never felt as special as she felt with Bucky’s ring on her finger. It was the prettiest thing from the most handsome orc.

And in that very moment, she was the happiest that she trusted her gut; that she gave Bucky, and herself a chance for this marriage to be something more than a contractual deal.

Bucky couldn’t believe she has finally let him make her his. When he slipped that ring on her tiny finger, he felt like he was king of the world.

While walking back to their cottage, a new dream got unlocked inside of her, one that included her and Bucky and their very own little stand in the market.

“Can we stop by the shop before we go home?” She asked tentatively.

“Sure, why? Did you forget something there yesterday?”

She has been to the shop a couple of times, curious to meet the important people in Bucky’s life and possibly have friends of her own, too.

“No, just wanna show Sarah the ring,” she said, a shy smile lighting up her happy face.

Bucky brought her hand to his lips, kissing her ring finger this time, “to the shop it is.”

~

Everything was going amazingly and she wished with all her heart that it would stay that way, but unfortunately, the very next day was a day for another fight that none of them saw coming.

Bucky still hasn’t recovered from her little stunt a few weeks ago and today he came back to find the cottage empty again.

He should have locked the door. He shouldn’t have trusted that a ring on her finger might stop her old habits or give her a magical change of heart.

What about all the small moments she had shared? Did those mean nothing to her?

Bucky’s anger and feeling of betrayal wiped away everything nice that had happened between the two of them, only remembering that she never wanted to be here in the very first place.

“Why are you so adamant about making me lose my mind?” Bucky asked, pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.

“I’m not! Would you just listen?!” She yelled back, startled by the harsh treatment.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bucky shouted as if he didn’t hear her.

“I was just—”

“Wandering through the forest alone is dangerous, I’ve told you time and again, and yet you keep doing it!”

“Would you listen to me?!” 

“No! You acted like you would stop running, so what changed?!” Bucky threw his big arms in the air, making her take a step back.

Bucky looked bigger than he usually did when he was livid like that.

“I wasn’t running!” She repeated, her voice tinged with anger of her own at the distrust.

“Stop lying!” Bucky growled, roughly grabbing her by the arm.

“I’m not lying,” she insisted as she tried not to wince at the way Bucky held her forearm, her jaw clenched defiantly.

“Then what were you doing up the hill, huh?” Bucky unconsciously squeezed her arm harder.

“You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull away, but Bucky wouldn’t release her.

“You think you’re the only one who has fucking feelings?” Bucky shook her in his hold, unintentionally bruising her further.

She cried out but it fell on deaf ears, “Bucky, let me go!”

“Do you think what you do doesn’t affect me just because I’m not a goddamn human?!” He forced her closer, making her tears fall as he barked in her face.

His words hung heavy in the air, echoing through the spacious room.

“Bucky, please,” she tried again, not wanting to fight anymore.

Bucky finally listened, suddenly shocked at his actions as he let her arm go.

It’s been so long since he had made her cry and he just ruined everything good he had worked on building with her.

She just stood there, whimpering in pain as she held her arm to her chest.

Bucky watched her roll the sleeve of her winter dress up to look at her arm and there they were: thick fingerprints on her flesh.

“I— I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to get closer to look at her arm, swallowing hard.

To his surprise, she let him.

“I’m sorry, little human.” Bucky wiped a few of her tears away, regret evident in his voice.

“I wasn’t running,” she repeated, pushing her hands in the pockets of her dress, “I was collecting berries to decorate the cake I made earlier.” She pulled handfuls of now ruined wild strawberries, raspberries and blackberries out of her pockets and dropped them on the wooden table for him to see.

She left Bucky alone to stare at the berries and went to the kitchen.

And boy did he stare.

He felt so stupid and ashamed at the way he had reacted. He just hurt her and she wasn’t even trying to leave. He wouldn’t let her explain either and had unjustly judged her.

She got out a cold water bottle from the fridge, pushing it to her bruised arm.

Bucky walked into the kitchen, shame branded on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not knowing what to do to correct his mistake.

“What do you think?!” She irritably snapped at him, waving her bruised arm in the air.

“I just wanted to help!” Bucky barked back.

“Well, I don’t want your help!” She shouted.

“Fine! Don’t want it!” Bucky walked out, his feet stomping on the wooden floors.

He stormed out of the cottage, violently slamming the door behind him.

Bucky then realized what he has just done and how he had made the situation even worse. He kicked a rock so hard he was sure it flew to the other side of the forest as he saw birds flying disruptively.

“Damn it!” He yelled out loud, slamming his fist to the door, making her flinch inside the cottage.

The fight between the orc’s rough exterior and his rather tender feelings for her was torturing Bucky. What he meant to show was that he cared about her and was worried for her, but instead he’d done what he’d done.

She, on the other side of the wall, irately got out of the kitchen with the trash bin and swept the berries from the table, throwing them in the garbage.

When Bucky got inside again, she was cleaning the stain of the berries from the table, her features still twisted in a frown.

He opened his mouth, trying to think of anything he could say to fix this, but nothing came out. With a sigh, he left the cottage once more, leaving her all alone.

She sat down with a huff, throwing the cloth in her hand across the room.

She let her tears run in frustration.

It was supposed to be a peaceful night where they enjoyed a delightful desert that she has worked hard on making and was going to work hard on decorating.

She was trying to start a life with him. Why did he have to ruin it like that? She wasn’t running. How could she make him believe her?

She desperately wanted, needed Bucky to trust her.

She cried harder, feeling helpless in the face of her orc’s rage as her heart clenched at the thought of a happiness gone so soon.

Part V

~

Tag List:

@harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @sapphirebarnes @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions @serendipitouslife90 @sebastians-love @leelee1234love

[agentmarvel]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request f!reader x the cod boys reaction to her taking a sick day after having an IUD placed, either platonic or an established relationship with one of them, up to you. I can only imagine mixed reactions, especially after learning what all goes into the procedure. This is totally self indulgent so I was hoping for it to be on the fluffier side, BUT no worries if you’re not interested!!

Thank you!!🤍💐

i love this🖤 thank you for requesting, kat! hope you enjoy!

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

141 x afab!reader (individual pairings - head canon format)

☆

john is worried.

“not like you to take a sick day, dove. you sure you’ll be alright ‘til i get back?”

tbh, he’s so pressed about it. he knew in advance what the procedure would look like - educated himself after the birth control discussion came up - but your body isn’t reacting the way either of you had hoped. it’s far worse.

scared the hell out of him when you called yesterday afternoon and asked that he pick you up. obstinate, headstrong thing that you are, you declined his offer to accompany you to the appointment in the first place. you were in no condition to drive.

the thought of leaving you now, even for morning pt with the team, sets his teeth on edge. you’re strong, he knows. you can handle yourself just fine. but what kind of man would he be to leave his girl when she feels this fucking awful? - spoiler alert: he’s not going anywhere.

with your reassurance (and telling him he’s being a bigger baby than you about it), he tucks you into your nest of pillows and blankets, leaves ibuprofen and a cup of water on your side table, and makes sure your heating pad is plugged in and within reach.

simon is supportive.

“i’ve seen you shot, stabbed, blown up, burnt, broken bones; you’re a tough bird, you can handle it.”

you’ve been through worse. you both know that. doesn’t mean that he isn’t sympathetic to the pain you’re feeling, though. he watches you like a hawk, monitoring every scrunch of your nose or pained grimace or you squeezing your eyes shut just a little too tight. you’ll take the meds he picked up for you like clockwork with the fresh cuppa he brings you every four hours. he’ll take the day off with you, let you squeeze his hand when a cramp or muscle spasm is particularly gnarly.

he’ll hold you while you nap, too - playing with your hair, keeping you centered on top of him with one bulky arm slung across your hips, wishing the whole time that he could trade bodies with you until the aches are gone.

johnny is pissed.

“an’ they donnae give ye fuckin’ anesthetic? och! tha’s fuckin’ cruel s’what tha’ is!”

this man is L I V I D. he didn’t know the details of iud placement until you made him watch a video, and he’s been going off the rails since. it infuriates him to no end that you’re expected to just tough it out with nothing more than basic fucking pain relievers. don’t even get him started on that medieval torture device you called a ‘tenaculum’ that they stabbed you with!

he’s planning a murder while he orders a delivery of supplies. angrily, his thumbs punch at his screen as he selects all the things he even thinks you might need to get through the week - even though you keep telling him you’re sure you’ll be fine tomorrow. 

“not gonna stab my hen and get away with it.”

(when you ask what he’s muttering about over there, he tosses his phone aside, rolls you into his arms, kisses the top of your head, and tells you lunch is on the way.)

kyle is sympathetic.

“poor thing,” he murmurs, kissing your temple. “what can i do to help?”

like price, kyle took the liberty of doing his research. 

cramps and muscle aches/spasms are common after placement, and some women will actually pass out in the minutes following the procedure. he texted a medic friend to get ahold of some muscle relaxers for you, picked up standard issue pain meds, bananas for potassium to combat the cramps, a second heating pad (one for each side), chocolates, tea, and a new plushy for you to squeeze on. your boyfriend was adamant that he take you to and from your appointment, even if you didn’t want him in the room while it was happening. every single base is covered in advance to mitigate the worst case scenario.

when you curl into the fetal position, gritting out an abrupt “all good”, he wraps himself around you like a shield.

[messylustt]

KAJXJSJX HOBIE WITH “ you look like you’ve got something to say ” & “ kiss me again ”

talk to my cold lips — hobie brown. heheehe. i need him. like need him. bad.

you were pressing your lips together, tucking your knees up to try and create some warmth for yourself. the air was chilled, your closed window not doing as much as you'd hoped. "you could at least let yourself have a blanket." hobie's voice drifts into the living room, him having crashed the night before.

you lean your head back, rubbing the goosebump covered skin of your shins with rolled down sleeves, creating some much needed friction. "couldn't be bothered." you mutter back, eyes now closed as the cold air tinges your cheeks and nose.

hobie scoffs. and that's when you feel something large and fluffy land right atop your body. opening your eyes you caught sight of the blanket now draped over you, making you shift your gaze to hobie. he's taken a seat beside you. "is that my jumper?" you ask, brows furrowing.

hobie looks down at his body before looking to you. "and is tha’ a blanket i so kindly got for ya?"

despite his words you hug the blanket tighter, looking away, and making him chuckle. "yeah, hobie, thanks mate." he sarcastically states for you.

"i don't say 'mate'." you reply. "yeah ya do." hobie shoots back, shifting slightly on the couch, as he faces you, fingers tapping at his knee.

"when have i ever said 'mate'?" you scoff. "jus' yesterday." hobie's lips curve up in a lazy smirk. "yesterday, really?"

"yeah...in ya sleep." hobie shrugs, hand now having moved to fiddle with the edge of your blanket. "oh." you mockingly say, faking understanding. "right, of course." you lean back against the couch again, shutting your eyes.

"you do realise that would mean that you watched me sleep." you mutter, only earning his lazy tone of denial.

"nah. you just happen to be a very loud talker." when you look back over to him unimpressed his smirk has widened as he looks up at you from under his lashes.

you're caught momentarily, your gaze taking note of his own. you don't mean to let your eyes drop but they do, also taking note of his creamy looking skin, almost glowing in the chilled air, the grey sky outside only forcing him to stand out more. soon your eyes stop on his lips, freshly coated in his spit. you find yourself gulping, unsure.

unbeknownst to you, hobie's gaze also had begun to wander. the only difference being that it had begun all of last night too. things were normal. you offered your place, he accepted, so on, so on. but he'd caught himself staying trapped in eyeing your legs...your waist...your chest...only brief moments could he look at your face until you felt his gaze and turned. leaving him to act distracted in something far more bland than you.

but now, as you met his gaze, he didn't look away, his fingers fiddling with the blanket slowly drawing it closer. "you look like you’ve got something to say." he says, as you notice the blanket's shift.

"you're stealing my blanket." you say a little too quietly. but thats when you feel something else getting tugged. along with the blanket, hobie's fingers found the edge of your shirt. your breathing hitched as you were forced to move along the couch towards him.

soon he's draped part of the blanket over himself, both your legs touching. you gulp, licking your dry lips. you blame the cold. "well? do ya have something to say?"

you go to shake your head, feeling the slightest brush of his fingertips under the blanket, but you stop. "i do actually."

"oh?" his gaze has been a little too focused lower down on your face, him now taking note of your freshly wet lips. "i was going to keep the blanket. for myself."

hobie lazily tilts his head, clear amusement evident in his fluttering gaze. "uh huh."

"and now you've...taken it. so, if you don't mind i'll just..." you go to grab the edge of the blanket that rests over his hips, but this forces you close, hobie's back and forth mind halting as his senses heighten at the proximity.

you go to say something more, along the lines of "even if you did get me the blanket, you are wearing my nice jumper — " but you can barely finish the sentence before hobie's fingers are gripping your shirt tighter, using his free hand to bring you in by the back of your neck, as his lips meet yours.

your body reacts in a mix of a jolt and a stiffen, shock emanating from you. but hobie's tongue glides along your lower lip eagerly, drawing you in impossibly closer as he moves against your mouth.

you find yourself slowly kissing back, his persistent hands creating warm friction against your body, as he grins against your lips. you have to catch your breath, but as you draw back a fraction, mind dazed and core heated, muttering a "hobie..." he's drawing you back in, murmuring against your now open mouth "kiss me again," as he wraps his full lips around your bottom, sucking. teeth and tongues, eager and oh very willing.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[pleaktale]

Please please- write a modern reader (spiderperson or not) explaining things like email, memes, and the internet. It is such a fun concept to me that Hobie is clueless on things like ai.

Personally, I see that as an oppurtunity to mess with him.

Anything you want! Drabble, headcannons. Just have fun if this tickles your fancy 🫶

I cackled with this one so much because I thought about all his reactions and that would be PRICELESS. Didn't enter much on the AI thing because we don't fw AI 🙅 Thank you for the request, lovie! Did a bit of both <3

Warnigs: none I guess?

Tags: Hobie x modern!gn!reader, headcanons

Enjoy ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

Hobie is a guy of techs, that is set in stone. But what does he know about memes? Spotify? What about watching videos in tiny screens?

He went to your world once. Guy was LOST in all the screened outdoors, cars moving by sustainable energy and without tires, the lack of humans in things such as supermarkets and pharmacies a little worrying to him;

Once you taught him how to open the door to your apartment, he asked you to dismantle that thing;

"What do ya mean this.. opens with your DNA!?" he asked with slumping shoulders, watching as you entered the apartment like it was just a normal occurrence. And it was.

Your laugh quieted down his mind a little. "It reads my irises through the capture, I already added yours also," you show him the screen of your phone, his name written in the 'allowed' list.

"When tha' happened!!?" Hobie scratched his head, watching over as you cackled your way to the couch.

Visiting each other's dimension was a regular thing, so seeing the old ass things in his world was kinda funny to you;

Sharing wired headphones with him was like living your great great grandparents lives, and watching his curious mind of a nerd in tech trying to figure out your bluetooth earbuds was perhaps the funniest thing in the world;

The first time he went in contact with the humor of your century, it was like explaining calculus to a toddler. But he got the hang of it;

Hobie is smart, that you can't deny. But watching him get used to touch screens was... curious, to say the least;

The first time you showed something AI-made to him, Hobie was taken aback just like you thought he would;

"Ya mean this hyper realistic video of the Eifell Tower burning until it's metals were curling 'n shit.. isn't real?" Hobie had squinted eyes at you.

"Basically, yeah," you replied with a sigh, "it's a little more in control now, we have tools to see if it's AI made or not, but I honestly wanted this gone."

"Bet a bunch of wankers had taken their shared advantage of that," Hobie sighed too, shaking his head in clear disagreement.

After that he always send you videos asking if they're real or not (you got him a phone so he could use TikTok, now it's like having your grandpa sending you skibidi toilet videos asking 'what the hell's this');

He absolutely loves the MP3 you gave him, it's such a tiny thing and still has all his songs plus your favorite ones, he likes to go patrolling with them;

You showed him spotify once, he called it a "damn trap of capitalism" for making you pay for songs that weren't even physical (he's not wrong though);

The concept of being formal over email didn't clicked to him;

"Write a letter, then!" Hobie pointed at the screen after reading your email you planned on sending over to Miguel.

"But that takes weeks to get somewhere, Hobie," you raised an eyebrow, looking at him while pressing the 'send' button. "See? Gone and in his email, if he's online he'll see it now."

"Online? Yeah, a'ight, whatever." His hands up in mock surrender got another set of laugh out of you.

I could go on for longer but maybe for a pt. 2 😅 I hope you enjoyed! Until next time <3

© pleaktale

[nofingjustaninchident]

I had an idea today. rockstar reader x Jason Grace? Like he’s a fan of her and he goes to one of her concerts and gets a wink from her and they later meet through a shared friend and their relationship blooms from there? And she’s a typical rockstar girl, red leather jacket, smudged eyeliner, kinda “hardcore”. I got the idea after listening to arabella by artic monkeys!

ᯓ★ arabella

summary you and your band are back in new york, so you call some friends to your show - smau and written

warnings smoking in like one pic, i know nothing about rock

author’s note thank you anon, for requesting this. i’m sorry it took me a month and a half to do this, honey, really am. i still don’t have much time to write these days, so i did a smau. hope uou enjoy!

now listening to arabella by arctic monkeys

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

liked by seaweedbrainfr, ghostking and 806 others

blond.superman oh god, not me taking my friends to a rock concert

beautyqueen oooh is this >>her<< show?

wisegirlbeth good luck! you’re gonna need it 🥰

ghostking well have so much fun 🤩

blond.superman already regretting even inviting you three

reynathequeen nah you’re not

repair.boy lol i’m so freaking excited to tease you all night about her

liked by blond.superman, dovecameron and 504,623 others

yourusername not back to 505, but back to the big apple

dovecameron can’t wait to see you babyy

yourusername OMG YOURE HERE?? AS IN NEW YORK???

user y/n as lost as we are helppp 😭😭

user can’t WAIT to see her show today

honeymoon as hot as ever i see

yourusername love ya loads

user MOTHER IS MOTHERING

user how can someone be so pretty???

user that’s not a face card, that’s a face ECONOMY 🛐

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“she winked to me.”

that made nico, the closest person to jason (and the only one that wasn’t too intoxicated to understand something) to turn to him with confused expression.

“who winked at you?” the shorter boy asked, seemingly confused by his friend’s words.

“y/n. i’m a hundred percent sure.” the blond boy replied, staring at the guitarist. she was way too pretty, and he was afraid that maybe he was right and she did winked at him.

nico snickered. “oh, sure. delulu is the solulu, am i right?”

“nico, im not joking.” he repeated, and she did it again. this time, an open mouthed percy turned to him, bewildered.

“jason! y/n winked at you! did you see it?!” the brunet said, smiling more than he’d usually do. god, the alcohol was clear in his face.

jason looked at nico as if to say see? as they turned back to enjoy the show.

after ten more songs, the concert was finally done. the guitarrist, y/n, walked over to the front of the stage and grabbed the mic. her hair was damp from sweat, her mascara and eyeliner smudged around her eyes. "good night, my pretty city!" she said, earning a round of cheers from the crowd.

"it's so nice to be back here with my favorite people in the world. here is where this dream began, and here is where it'll continue!" she finished and, with another round of applause, the band was finally off the stage.

reyna, as drunk as she was, smiled cheekily at her friends. "so, i may or i may not be friends with the vocalist." she revealed, making the other three friends snap their heads towards the puerto rican.

"WHAT?!" the three friends half-shouted at the same time.

"what do you mean you're "friends with the vocalist"? and why did you never tell us?" nico asked, all color draining from his face.

"well, it doesn't matter right now. what does matter is that we got pass to the back stage. which means we're gonna meet the band. which means that jason gets to see his all time crush. so, do you want to go now or miss the opportunity?"

"like hell we're missing it." the blond spoke up and grabbed reyna's arm. "lead the way."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

tagged: arcticmonkeys

liked by sabrinacarpenter, blond.superman and 1,005,478 others

yourusername another show that almost had me in tears. every show is awesome but the new york ones just hit different. thanks for everyone that was there!!

user alright the show was great and all but WHO WAS THE PERSON SHE WINKED TO???

blond.superman best show ever (liked by author)

user WHO’S THIS ONE???

user WAS HIM WHO SHE WINKED TO???

user just stalked him, his face card is offering 🙏🏻🙏🏻

user shoo our girl doesn’t need m*n

honeymoon dear lord when i get to heaven, pls let me bring my woman

yourusername COMPLETELY IN LOVE WITH YOUU

liked by yourusername, beautyqueen and 107,896 other

blond.superman damn, suddenly i'm famous

user well, damn. i came here to boo him for supposedly wooing our girl and ended up being wooed as well

yourusername last slide is SO ME

blond.superman i wonder why's that

yourbff oh no, my girl was wooed by a wh*te m*n repair.boy i'm latino, in case you're interested ghostking LEO NO

user he's hot, a drummer, blond.. is this heaven?

user i can see why y/n was wooed by him

user hell yeah

tegged: blond.superman

liked by your bff, blond.superman and 1,975,830 others

yourusername petition for my new boyfriend to teach me how to play drums or join my band

blond.superman love you <3 (liked by author)

seaweedbrain FINALLY!!! he'd been pining on you for the past two years y/n. two. years.

user NOT JASON BEING EXPOSED

yourusername oww how cute

blond.superman i'll find you, jackson. i'll find you.

oliviarodrigo aww my favorite american couple!! so cute you two (liked by author)

matthewhelders first of all, you should thank me and reyna for introducing you two. second, I'M YOUR DRUMMER!!

yourusername yeah yeah thx reyna and YOU'RE OLD MATTHEW!! WE NEED MORE GEN-Z

user y/n is so awesome omfg

wisegirlbeth so happy for my boy (nah i'm just glad we don't have to hear about how awesome she is anymore)

beautyqueen nope we're hearing twice as much now

honeymoon so happy for you boo! (liked by author)

sabrinacarpenter fav couple (liked by author)

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄: Shower Sex w/ CDC!Daryl Dixon

a/n: omg y'all's tags on your reblogs of my posts make me giggle. there's an equal amount of thirst to y'all just being plain old funny! i love all my silly little gooses!! thank you for the support!

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

At first the CDC just felt like a fantasy, a great idea, but unreachable. But there was something about the way in which Rick spoke about it that sparked the last bit of hope that had been residing in your chest.

The fall had taken everything from you: you parents, siblings, relatives, a job that you had worked your ass off to get; but the worst part is, it put your relationship with Daryl on hold. You knew it was only because he was afraid of losing you, but it was like you missed him even though he was right there. So, when an opportunity to be a couple again arose, you took it.

"Why haven't ya showered yet?" He asked while walking in your shared quarters — which had been Daryl's insistence when you tried to claim one for yourself. 

You looked up from the book you were reading on the miniature sofa in the room. "I figured we could shower together. I tried to find you while everyone else was, but I didn't know where you were." He only grunted, chewing on a hangnail nervously. 

"Ya wanna shower with me?" He asked sheepishly. You smiled softly, setting the book face down and standing up to take his large, callused hands in yours. "Of course, babe. Why wouldn't I?" He just shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno… figured ya wouldn' want me to see ya… ya know… like tha'." 

"Just because it seems like we aren't dating doesn't mean you're not my boyfriend." You reassured the archer. "Now c'mon before there's no more hot water left." 

He allowed you to lead him to the showering quarters where you had begun to remove your clothes. He looked away bashfully, the tips of his ears turning red. 

"D!" You giggled. "It's nothing you hadn't seen before. Now strip!" You commanded playfully. You kicked off your pants and panties, stripping off your shirt and sports bra before standing bare before him.

He had stripped down to nothing as you approached one of the enclosed showers. You twisted the knob and hot water sprayed down your sweat and dirt covered skin, drawing a blissful sigh from between your lips.

"Oh, Daryl! This is wonderful! You gotta get in here!" You cheered, standing under the head of it. You allowed the water to soak the front of your body, your head tipped back in relaxation. 

You felt his warm body before you heard the door slide shut. You smiled gently when you felt his hands land on your plush hips, the hunter placing his chin in the crease of your neck. You squirmed at the feeling of his beard tickling your skin.

"It's been too long since we've been alone, huh?" You asked carelessly. You reached up an arm to massage at his scalp and he purred in delight. "Mhm." He agreed with a hum.

He let his hands wander up and down your body, his fingertips skimming over your nipple. You knew he didn't mean too, that he was just simply worshiping your body without any lustful intent behind his touches, but God, it's been so fucking long.

"Do that again. Please." You plead breathlessly. "Okay." His voice was gruff and deep as his palms cupped your breasts, twisting your nipples and teasing them just the way he remembered you liked. 

You moaned softly, head falling back on his shoulder as he placed sweet kisses all up and down your skin. Your body heated up unashamedly, core dampening with each twist of his skillful fingers.

"'Missed you so much. Missed this." 

"Missed ya too, sunshine." His hands descended down your torso to your weeping cunt. The rough pads of his fingers teased your labia, stroking it up and down in fluid motions before sinking two digits into you slowly.

"Ah! — shit." You gasped at the stretch of the intrusion. Your hips jolted out in an attempt to fuck yourself on his fingers; but with him, you never had to beg. He'd give you anything you'd ask for and tenfold.

"I gotcha, I gotcha." He cooed, lips settling near your ear so you could listen to his ragged breathing. 

The only thing that could be heard over the splashing of the water was the squelch of your cunt followed by your ecstasy ridden moans. His fingers continually curled against your g-spot. You felt your stomach tighten, your grip on his hair tightening as well.

"I'm gonna cum, Daryl!" You gasped. You were on the precipice of pleasure, but you needed just a little bit more to push you over the edge. As if reading your mind, he inserted a finger and the pad of his thumb circled your clit.

"Cum f'me, sunshine." He demanded softly, a light rasp following his words. "Fuck!" You cried out, body quivering as your orgasm overtook you.

You could feel his hardness poking your back as he resumed his soft kisses to help bring you back down from your high.

"Don' gotta keep goin' if ya don' wanna." 

"I wanna keep going, D. Please. 'S been too long." You begged, pressing your ass on his hard-on. He choked on a grunt, palms squeezing your wide hips. "Okay." He said thickly.

He turned you around, your arms instantly wrapping around his neck. He walked you back barely even a step before your back touched the surprisingly cool tile.

"'Wanna see ya." There was a sheepish look on his face at his own admission. "I wanna see you too, baby." You agreed, bringing your lips to his as they joined together in an amorous embrace.

He wrapped one of your legs around his hip, his tip poking at your folds. He reached a free hand down to guide his cock to your entrance where he slowly penetrated you.

You broke the kiss by your head falling back, your jaw slightly dropping at the intrusion.

"Fuck." You both called out in tandem when he bottomed out inside of you. 

You spent a few moments catching your breath, but as need twisted in your gut, you squeezed down on him, pulling a bellowing groan from him. 

"Please move, Dar." 

You didn't need to tell him twice. He pulled out, before slamming into you, a loud slap resounding throughout the showers. You were glad that you decided to wait for him. 

He tried to keep up a slow pace, but your noises and gummy walls beckoned him, sucking him greedily in an attempt to take him for all that he was worth. 

You knew you'd be sore later with every smack of his toned hips to the insides of your plush thighs. 

"Ya feel so good, sweetheart." He growled, his tip prodding at your g-spot with each thrust. "You feel good too!" You repeated back to him. "God, I missed you so much." You recalled once more, pulling the man to your body so there wasn't an inch of space left between the two of you.

"Missed ya too, sweetpea. 'Gonna make you cum real good, alrigh'?" You nodded fastly in excitement. "Need it." Your response was simple, but he knew it held a heavier meaning behind it.

You knew that you were going to cum soon, and if Daryl's dick twitching was any consolation, he was right behind you.

"I want you to cum with me, baby." He nodded, "I will, I will." He repeated breathlessly.

Your bodies worked in sync to bring the other to their climax, and when they were successful, Daryl was quick to pull out of you, jerking off before he exploded on the floor; whilst you rubbed your clit to completion.

"You okay sweetheart?" He asked. "Yeah," You responded with a heaving chest. "Just a little worried about the fact that the water feels a little chilly."

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @zippertwat @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[krakereir]

My Best Friend's Girl (you're something else) Trafalgar Law x reader

T+/M. Mild sexual content. Masturbation. Themes of adultery. fem!reader

“Again, I’m really sorry about this, Law,” she calls from the other side. “Don’t sweat it. You’re here now, might as well stay. Shachi will be home in a couple of hours.” “I’ll make it up to you somehow,” she says, sticking her head out from behind the door, shooting him a bright smile.  Law nods curtly and locks himself in the bathroom, trying not to think about the fact that he’s totally attracted to Penguin’s new girlfriend.

Law is finally home. He kicks off his shoes, hangs his key on the wall and sighs out. Shachi is still at work. Penguin’s on a work-trip.

Peace and quiet. 

Under his arm is the World Economic Journal, which he is looking forward to skimming through impatiently before skipping straight to the newest strips of Sora. Then he’ll make a cup of coffee and read the whole paper through in the comfort of his favourite chair by the window. For dinner he’s gonna make shakshouka over rice and then afterwards he’ll maybe open the bottle of wine he’s been meaning to try.

But first he needs a shower. Desperately.

He opens the door to the bathroom and is met with the sight of a strange girl looking back at him. She’s standing hunched over the sink, face drenched with water and she looks shockingly ravishing. Flushed cheeks, wet lips, eyes slightly red. Law has to take a step back.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks, and it doesn’t carry even a hint of the irritation he was going for. She blinks, looking back at him.

“I’m Y/N,” she says, as if that would explain everything. “Didn’t Penguin tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. He said he would tell you. I’m Penguin’s-”

“Aha,” Law interrupts, as it hits him. Penguin’s new girlfriend. “He did tell me about you.” 

The girl lets out a sigh of relief. She grabs a towel and dries off her face. Wow, she’s pretty. Good for Penguin.

“Sorry if I frightened you,” she laughs weakly.

“No worries. Where is he?”

“You just missed him. He left for the airport just now,” she says.

And you’re still here? Law thinks to himself, but knows it would be rude to say it. 

“Pen has a tendency to promise things on behalf of others, I hope he didn’t force your hand. You’re a lifesaver who’s letting me stay.”

“Stay?” Law sputters. “For how long?”

“Oh, no. He didn’t tell you,” she laments. “He promised me it would be fine. I didn’t even believe him at first, knowing how he is, but he insisted! There’s mould in my apartment. I was supposed to stay here for a week.”

A week. A week? Law sees white. What on earth was Penguin thinking when he promised her this?

“I'll find somewhere else!” she says quickly. “It’s no problem.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Law mutters. She looks like a student, there won’t be anywhere affordably decent on that short of a notice. “If he promised you, then he should keep his promise. I’ll give him hell when he gets back.”

“Thank you so much,” she says with a grateful smile. “So you’re Shachi?”

“I’m Law.” 

Her eyes go big.

“You’re Law?” she says in disbelief. “Trafalgar Law.”

“In the flesh,” Law says without a trace of humour.

"Oh my god, I've heard so much about you!" she says excitedly. “Pen said you’d be out of town this week.”

“That’s next week,” Law says.

“That fucking doofus,” she moans, and it makes Law frown.

Penguin absolutely acts like an idiot most of the time, but hearing his totally new girlfriend say it so candidly feels wrong. Penguin had been very excited when he told Law about her.

She walks past him out of the bathroom and into Penguin's room.

“Again, I’m really sorry about this, Law,” she calls from the other side.

“Don’t sweat it. You’re here now, might as well stay. Shachi will be home in a couple of hours.”

“I’ll make it up to you somehow,” she says, sticking her head out from behind the door, shooting him a bright smile. 

Law nods curtly and locks himself in the bathroom, trying not to think about the fact that he’s totally attracted to Penguin’s new girlfriend.

----

All his plans for the night get flushed down the drain. There’s no point in even attempting to uphold his priorly planned out schedule. He no longer feels at ease in the living room, not in the kitchen either. He throws together dinner in a haste and eats at his desk. 

Sometime as he’s hidden away in his room, Shachi comes home. Law can hear him and Y/N getting acquainted in the kitchen and Law briefly wonders if he’ll be able to grab a hold of Shachi when he walks past and ask if Penguin told him about this, but Shachi doesn’t leave the kitchen. Law can hear increasing laughter, voices talking louder and the occasional opening of cans of beer. 

It annoys him greatly that Y/N and Shachi are getting along, putting him in the minority, but he can’t stay in his room all night either. That would be letting them win. He takes his finished plate and brings it to the kitchen.

“Captain!” Shachi exclaims. “Didn’t know you were home. You’ve met Y/N?”

Law finds that a simple nod suffices. 

"We're going out tonight."

“Join us!” Y/N exclaims. Her lips are painted red and she’s smiling wide, showing a lot of teeth, some of them unusually pointy. Law has always liked the feeling of sharp teeth. He likes the stain of red lipstick too. He likes-

“I have work,” he mumbles, putting away his final plate and walking out of the kitchen.

“Really?” Shachi asks from behind him.

“Stuff to read, things to write… you know,” Law lies. He turns around and stops in the doorway, attempting to look apologetic.

“Come on, I bought your favourite,” Shachi says, opening the fridge to show a six pack of Law’s go-to beer. If he wasn’t tempted to stay before, he definitely is now, but Law prides himself on his impeccable self control. It’s going to take more to tantalise him.

“Another time.”

The evening flies by in passiveness. Law continues to hide in his room. The wine stays unopened. Sora remains unread. The World Economic Journal lies untouched. 

Shachi and Y/N seem to be having a blast in the kitchen together. They play music and sing along, laugh and talk loudly. The hope of getting just a slice of the evening he had planned out gets bleaker by the hour and when they finally leave, going out to a club or bar, Law’s too tired to do anything else other than lie bed and think.

Think about Y/N.

It's just a little strange, that's all.

Penguin has never had a real girlfriend before. There was never more than one night stands and an occasional fuck friend and Law had never felt attraction to any of them. It’s an established fact that their taste is very different. They sometimes even joke about it when they’re out drinking. Shachi’s into men, Penguin’s into shy girls with sweet smiles and Law likes the ones that bite a little. The three had lived in perfect symbiosis.

Penguin always goes for girls with low self-esteem. Quiet, sweet, kinda needy. Law never gets to know any of them because Penguin very quickly loses interest and then Law never sees them again. Never has Penguin introduced anyone as his girlfriend before.

Y/N is confident, harder and freer than any of his prior flings, although maybe a bit too harsh on Penguin. In a way she reminds him of Shachi, but no one else is allowed to treat Penguin the way Shachi does, that’s reserved for only him. And on occasion Law. Y/N seems like someone that barges in and takes charge, not only feeling at home, but acting like it too. Unabashed and shameless. She absolutely reminds Law of Shachi.

Shachi and Penguin have been attached to the hip since they met at orientation. It’s no secret that Penguin himself has issues with confidence and that’s reflected in his choice in sexual partners, but when it comes to deeper relations it would make sense for him to fall for someone more like his best friend. Someone who completes him. 

It’s a pity that Law isn’t attracted to Shachi. He’s a great guy and although Law doesn’t actually think that he’s Shachi’s type, he could picture them together in a vague distant reality. Well, maybe not Shachi himself, but someone like him. Someone like Y/N.

Law shakes the thought away. He’s got to stop thinking. It’s 3 am already and he’s yet to get even a half hour of sleep.

----

“I just wish he told me that she was coming,” Law hisses at Shachi. He takes a large gulp of his lukewarm coffee.

“Give it a break. He thought you were going away this week,” Shachi argues. “Honestly I did too.”

“For fuck’s sake, that’s why we have a calendar! So there could be at least an inch of predictability in this fucking apartment. See, I wrote it down months ago,” Law says, pointing at the calendar on the fridge. Shachi raises an eyebrow at him. Law looks at it himself. The blood drains from his face. He’s written down the wrong dates. How did he-

“You were saying?” Shachi says, clearly amused.

“Fuck off, I don’t know how I…,” Law mutters. “I must have- No. They changed the date. That’s it! They changed it and I-”

“And you forgot to change it in the calendar. Well, there you have it. And that’s-”

“But I-,” Law protests.

“-not Penguin’s fault,” Shachi says with a smirk.

“I can’t believe it. What has become of me?”

“Fucking drama queen,” Shachi laughs.

Law has his little frustrated outburst and then he sighs deeply. 

“He should have told me even so. Doesn’t matter that he thought I was gonna be gone,” Law says sourly. Shachi hums in agreement.

“He told me like three days ago, I think it was a last minute emergency,” he says with a shrug.

“She’s not what I pictured,” Law admits.

“No, yeah, I get it. They’re different,” Shachi says. “She’s actually cool though, I think the two of you would get along. You should take this chance to get to know her, Lord knows Penguin’s not gonna let her around you again.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that he was okay with letting her stay when he didn’t know you’d be home and he won’t be pleased to find out.”

“What the fuck, Shachi?”

“Come on. Don’t take it personally, you know how he can get-”

“Morning!” 

“Good morning, Y/N!” Shachi says brightly and turns to the door opening where Y/N has appeared, only dressed in a loose bathrobe.

“How much did we drink last night? I have a raging headache,” she moans and shuffles lazily over to the sink.

“You did go all out,” Shachi chuckles. “Do you need anything? Aspirin?”

“I already took one,” she smiles. “It’ll be okay, although I was wondering if you guys could recommend some cafes nearby? Somewhere you can bring a laptop preferably.”

“You should go with Law! He’s currently writing research papers, so he can get you into the university library, the exclusive part of it,” Shachi grins widely. “The little cafe there is the cleanest place around, really.”

“Oh, I don’t want to impose,” she says to Law. “Any old cafe is fine really.”

“It’s no trouble, you can come with,” Law says, surprising himself. He never agrees to bring Shachi and Penguin around to his temporary office at the university, but a part of him is not against flashing his big-shot med-school fringe benefits in front of Y/N, hoping to somehow impress her. Just as friends of course.

“Thank you," she says with a wide smile. "Penguin told me you did residency at a hospital, are you done there already?” 

“No, I still do-”

“Law does both. Simultaneously! Yeah, I know. Smartest guy I know. Real catch this one,” Shachi lays it on thick and Law wants to strangle him. Not only is it fucking embarrassing, it’s also inappropriate. This is Penguin’s girlfriend for fuck’s sake.

“Wow, I’ll take your word for it,” she says to Shachi, but she’s smiling at Law. He looks away.

“I’m gonna take a shower, I’ll leave in 30 min. Be ready by then if you want to come,” he says to the floor.

“Thanks, Law!” she calls out after him.

Before he closes the door to the bathroom he hears the sound of snickering from the kitchen. Fucking hell, are they making fun of him?

----

“So when do you graduate?” Y/N asks. They’re driving to campus in his pre-owned, pale-yellow suzuki. Driving is a hassle because he needs to take the long way around to avoid midtown traffic, but he’s got his own parking, so he won’t complain. 

“I finished med-school last year and now I’m writing a PhD and doing post-graduate training.” Law’s grateful for how easy it is to avoid her gaze when he’s got his eyes on the road, but he still feels the pressure to keep a civilised conversation going.

“Post-graduate training?” she asks.

“The residency,” he explains.

“Ohh, wow. It’s so complicated becoming a doctor,” she says with a small chuckle. “You did 8 years and then on top of that you need more training.”

“Well, some people think it’s better to be over prepared when having the constant responsibility of real human lives in your hands,” Law says. It’s supposed to be a joke.

It doesn’t land at all.

When they get to the university, Law lets her into the small cafe at the bottom floor of his building and says, “I’ll drive back at 3, be ready at the exit by then if you need a ride back. The bus is also quite comfortable.” With that he flees up to his office on the fourth floor.

When he makes his way down to the first floor at 15.00 sharp, she’s not there. It’s a mild disappointment, but it does give him the opportunity to call his favourite person on the way home.

“Bepo, thank god,” Law says when he picks up the phone. “Shachi and Penguin are killing me over here.” 

“Oh, no. What happened?”

“Penguin is travelling for a week and his new girlfriend is staying here while he’s away. I’ve never even met her before and he didn’t bother to tell me she was coming.”

“What? That doesn’t sound like Penguin,” Bepo says. 

Law feels his cheeks heat up, not wanting to admit that he has fair share of blame in the situation. He wants Bepo to be on his side.

“Yeah, it’s weird, but anyway. How are you? It’s been a while,” he says.

Bepo is doing his residency out of town, which is how Law ended up living with Shachi and Penguin in the first place. Bepo used to live here. Law used to live alone. It would be a lie to say he’s never regretted the decision to change that. 

“-but I think they’re warming up to me. Though I can’t be sure. Anyway, I’ll get by,” Bepo finishes.

“Everyone likes you, Bepo,” Law comments casually. It’s really the truth. He can almost hear Bepo blush on the other side.

“But tell me about Penguin’s girlfriend! I didn’t know he had one. I honestly thought he was-” Then he is cut off. 

“Sorry, didn’t catch that last part,” Law says loudly. The car speakers might be going bad.

“I didn’t know he had a girlfriend!” Bepo repeats. 

Law frowns. Bepo thought Penguin was what?

“Law?” Bepo calls out.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Law says, realising he turned quiet. “He told me a couple of weeks ago that there was someone and that he was hoping they would get together. He was really excited about it too. Although pretty shy concerning the details, didn’t want to tell me much. You know how he gets.” 

“Eh, yeah…” Bepo says unsurely.

“You okay, Bepo?”

“Super! Is she nice?”

“Well, yeah. Or I don’t know. She’s kinda mean about Penguin,” he admits. 

“Mean how?”

“Like calling him an idiot and stuff.”

“I see, yeah, that’s not nice.”

“It’s probably fine. He’s a grown up, he can make his own choices. Other than that she seems nice. She's really pretty.” Law winces over the fact that he felt the need to add the last part. It's unnecessary to let others know that he feels this way about her, even if it is just Bepo. 

“What did Shachi do?”

“What?”

“You said he was killing you too?”

“Oh, yeah well… He’s just really friendly with Y/N, and I feel like they’re ganging up on me. It’s nothing big,” he says, pulling up to his usual street parking spot.

“Y/N?”

“Pen’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, weird.”

“Yeah,” Law says.

There’s a pause.

“So, are we still on for movies next week?” Law asks. “I’m staying from Sunday till Thursday. Most nights there’ll be a boring dinner, but I can catch something later in the evening.”

“Yes! Let's see the new Sora movie!”

“Again?” Law asks, as if he wasn’t thinking about suggesting it himself.

“Yes!”

Law laughs and says, “Looking forward to it. I’ll call you later in the week okay?”

“Okay! And good luck with the whole Penguin’s-girlfriend-situation!”

“Right,” Law sighs and cuts the engine.

That night Law goes to bed early. He lies in bed for hours, desperate for sleep to take him away, but sleep doesn’t come. When it’s like this he usually gets up and has a glass of water, a cup of tea, a cup of coffee if there’s really no chance of getting sleep, but tonight he forces himself to lie still and just try. 

Because sleep would be the only thing that could save him now.

----

“Law,” she gasps.

“Yes?”

He looks around, but there’s no one there. He’s in a dark room, a few windows letting in beams of sunlight far up the wall, but they only make the rest of the room feel darker. The ground is dirty and he’s sitting on his knees. He tries to stumble his way up when the voice speaks again. He feels a burst of pleasure brought on by the sound and falls back down on his knees, a slicing pain spreading from his kneecaps down towards his feet.

“Law, do that again,” it begs him. It’s a beautiful voice, like silk, the soft feel of it strokes him pleasantly over his skin.

That’s when he realises that he’s almost naked. He’s wearing clothes, but they’re unravelling slowly, falling apart at the seams. The cold air kisses his skin as it part by part gets exposed. 

“Law,” the voice says again, “I need you to touch me.”

“Yes,” he chokes out. “Where are you?”

Looking around, he still can’t see anyone else, but now the room is dimly lit by an open door letting in heaps of sunlight. It looks like he’s in a prison of some sort.

He’s not able to stand, but he staggers his way along the ground towards the opening. He can feel his clothes fall off him, one by one, and when he reaches the door he must surely be naked, but he doesn’t check.

The door leads out to a green meadow and when he reaches it, he can stand up. He runs out to feel the grass under the soles of his feet. 

He turns and looks back at where he came from and sees that he was inside an enormous, old tower mill. Its long sails are circling in the wind and every time they reach the ground, they’re closing off the entrance from which he just came.

“Yes, that’s it. I’m ready now,” the voice sings in his ear, a lot closer than before and he turns in a whirlwind to see a heap of hay before him and amidst it a naked woman, writhing in pleasure.

“Now, Law,” she orders, opening her eyes to meet his’. 

Law moves over to her and embraces her, sinking into her and she laughs out of pleasure. A melodic laughter that fills the world with sound and he lets go of the noises stuck in his chest. A long satisfied sigh, followed by a short grunt and a-

“Law,” she moans.

“Yes,” he answers. “Y/N, what do you need?”

“More.”

With a shudder it all slips away from him. 

He’s in his own bed, sweaty and alone. He’s achingly hard and instinctively rubs himself to ride the high of the dream.

Fuck. It feels below him having a sex dream, especially about someone he just met and who-

A sound is heard and Law freezes up. No, it can’t be. He must be hearing things, maybe he’s still dreaming.

He hears it again.

A noise that sounds a lot like moaning.

Law’s room is at the end of the corridor and it’s the room that in theory should have the most privacy, but when the assholes who rented out this apartment renovated it, they found that making two rooms out of one would be profitable if they didn’t put too much money into materials. That’s why Penguin and Law’s room is basically the same room only separated by the thinnest of walls, making it impossible not to hear whatever’s going on in the other room at all times.

It’s always been a nuisance, but it’s never been this much of a catastrophe, because Y/N is obviously engaging in some kind of sexual activity and Law can hear it. He would do his best to ignore it, pop in some ear plugs and deny it ever happened, if it weren’t for the fact that the sounds are so delicious. 

It’s crisp, each sound travelling through the thin walls without losing its quality. Law is able to differentiate what sort of actions might have spurred the different noises on, on a detailed level. He can hear when it’s pure pleasure and when it’s an aching need for more. 

He starts imagining what she might be doing. 

The obvious answer would be that she’s alone and masturbating, but what if she brought home someone? Someone who fucks her deep and slow, giving her just what she needs. Law reaches a hand down to touch himself again, but suddenly stops.

She’s with Penguin.

Even if she’s the type of person to do something like that, which he hopes she’s not, Shachi was hanging out with her tonight. He would stand up and put a stop to it before it came to that.

But what if she’s fucking Shachi? 

It’s not believable, but the thought is kind of hot. They’ve been having fun this week. Going out, just the two of them. Maybe the tension became too much and they lost all control.

Once again he’s got to stop his hand from reaching for himself.

Shachi would never do that to Penguin and as long as Law has known him, Shachi has never shown interest in a woman. To think that he would all of a sudden change his sexual preference just so that he can cheat on his best friend is ludicrous. Maybe Law is projecting.

But of course Law wouldn’t do that to Penguin either. Just because he wants to knock on her door and offer up his assistance everytime he hears her making that sound, so close to begging, doesn’t mean he would ever act on it. 

He wouldn’t.

But he’s got to do something. He needs to take care of himself or he will never be able to sleep afterwards. And these sounds are way too good to not take advantage of. Better than any porn. The perfect soundtrack to all his fantasies.

Fuck. 

He spits in his hand.

Yes. 

It sounds like she’s close now, the noises are getting quieter, but are coming more rapidly. It doesn’t take a lot before he’s close too. The dream. The sounds. The fantasy of having her on him, being the one getting her to make these sounds. It’s too much. He comes hard into his hand and can’t stop the groan that follows.

When he comes down from the high it’s suspiciously quiet from the other side of the wall. 

Oh no. 

She must have heard him and now she knows what he did.

He’ll never be able to look her or Penguin in the eyes again.

----

The next morning she doesn’t give him any reason to believe she caught on. If she did, she at least is not intending to make a scene about it. He’s eternally grateful. He can pretend to forget it ever happened if she is willing to do the same. 

Law spends the next couple of days avoiding both Shachi and Y/N like the plague. He works long hours, he eats out, he stays out, he comes home late and leaves early in the morning.

By the end of the week he’s fucking exhausted, but he’s managed to keep himself out of any inappropriate situations, with absolutely no help from Shachi, who must have noticed Law’s awkward predicament and has been doing everything he can to put him on the spot. A single day hasn’t passed without Shachi texting Law, asking if he can help drive Y/N somewhere or give her a hand with something else. It's infuriating.

Speaking of, Y/N’s been getting increasingly more comfortable in the common areas, walking around mostly in Penguin’s baggy shirts and shorts. No bra. 

It’s fine. 

He's almost made it to the day of Y/N's departure without embarrassing himself when it all comes crumbling down. 

In the middle of the night, there’s a knock on his door. He opens the door ever so slightly and peeks through.

"What do you want?" he asks gruffly.

It's Y/N holding up a bottle of wine.

"Sorry, did I wake you?"

Law gives a wave of dismissal, she did not.

"I was just thinking and, uhm, well I'm leaving tomorrow and I've hardly gotten the chance to talk to you. So, last chance to bond, I guess." She laughs nervously. "I heard you like white wine?"

It hits Law how much of an asshole he's been.

To her it must have seemed like he had no interest in getting to know her at all. Come to think of it, he’s been treating her as if he suspects she’s not gonna stick around. What if Y/N is the love of Penguin's life? And he treated her like garbage just because he couldn’t get over his own crush on her? 

"Yeah, let me just," he says, going back into his room to put on a shirt.

"Wow, those tattoos really are rad," her voice rings way too close and he turns in a whirlwind. He left the door open and she had seen it as an invitation to come in. 

He's about to ask her to leave his room, they can do this in the common area like normal people, but that’s when Y/N sits down on the bed and scoots up to lean into the wall. 

He must have looked pretty appalled because next thing he knows she says, "I’m sorry, are you very particular about your bed? Should I sit somewhere else?"

Law doesn’t say anything because yes he is, but at the same time he really isn’t. And he can’t really ask her to leave his room now without sounding like an asshole, so he joins her on the bed, his heart rate picking up.

She opens the bottle and hands it to him, no glass, no cup. It even has a fucking screw cap. Jesus. To avoid embarrassing Y/N by being a total snob he takes it and takes a sip. 

Fuck, that’s vile. This must be the cheapest riesling available. 

"Shachi did those, right?" she asks, pointing at the tattoos on his chest.

He forgot to put on a shirt. A little late for that now.

"Yeah, he’s a really talented artist," Law says, shifting a little further from Y/N, now that he’s aware of how they’re almost touching. "He doesn’t do a lot of work anymore though. He's a teacher now. PE and swimming."

"He told me," she says, taking a swig of the wine before placing it on his bedside table. "You guys are so cool. I'm glad Pen has friends like you."

The mention of Penguin is enough to get Law to scooch an inch further away.

"Then there’s Bepo, you should meet him too. He lives out of town for now."

"Oh, I've met Bepo!" she says. "Big, blond guy, right?"

"Yeah, how did… when?" he asks her, confused. "When did you meet Bepo?"

"Last fall, I think," she says unsure. "He's great. Are you two close?"

Law can’t make out what to say. This makes no sense. Unless Y/N and Penguin must have been friends a long while before getting together. If that’s the case, it makes him feel even worse.

"I'm sorry I barged in and tried to force this whole thing on you. I just hated the idea of not getting to know you," she says. "You know, Penguin showed me your manifesto."

"My what?"

"Your manifesto? Three years ago, maybe four," she explains further, "you guys were at some party and everyone there were assholes, you got so angry with the world you decided to make a manifesto there and then? And then you-"

"Declared it at the party," Law finishes, wincing at the memory. They had been celebrating exams in the first year of med-school. "I was a fucking nuisance."

"It's a solid piece of work," she says with a chuckle. "Pen took a photo of the napkin you wrote it on and showed it to me that weekend. I thought you sounded like you were just the coolest person ever, so I tried following it for about a month."

Law looks at her, completely horrified. He remembers the embarrassment that is that so-called manifesto.

"Well, most of it," she adds. “Not number four.”

He snort-laughs loudly, remembering vaguely what he wrote and says, “I’m pretty sure I specified that the fourth point is directed at William, so you’re off the hook.”

“You’re right!” she exclaims. 

"I was young," he explains, half jokingly. “Drunk too.”

Her laughter trickles like pearls on a string and Law catches himself smiling. He self consciously rubs himself across his chin, forcing the smile away.

"I've wanted to meet you for a long time, Law." 

"Oh?" he asks, mouth suddenly dry.

She's a lot closer to him now. He can feel his will power is worn thin from all the push and pull through the week. He just wants to accept it. Accept her and take what she wants to give him. It's obvious now that she is coming on to him. This can't be anything else. Her eyes flutter, peeking down at his lips. Her hand is resting on his knee, making small circles with her finger tips. He wants this so badly.

When she leans in he's very close to meeting her half way, but instead he says, "You should go."

"What…? Really?"

"Yes," he says firmly, looking down.

"Okay."

She walks to the door and he follows her out. Before she leaves she grabs his wrist.

"Why?" she challenges him, forcing him to look her in the eyes. 

“I can’t do that to Penguin,” Law explains.

“I thought you wouldn’t care about stuff like that."

“Then you got me wrong, because I do care."

“Come on, what’s really the problem? I’ve heard stories about you and your borderline questionable morals, you know,” she says teasingly, still holding a firm hold around his wrist. “I didn’t think you’d be bothered by silly rules.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint,” Law hisses, ripping his arm out of her grip. “I still have some dignity left, thank you very much.”

“What? Law, I’m sorry, I didn't mean-” she calls out after him, but he’s already closed the door on her.

What a fucking mess. 

He collapses back on the bed, fighting the urge to groan loudly into his pillow. When he notices the bottle of wine still on the bedside table, he grabs it, intending to drown his sorrows, but then he takes a sip and-

Nope. No chance. That’s the most disgusting thing he’s tasted in a long time. 

Ugh, it's gonna be a long night.

----

Penguin comes back the next morning and Law waits. He hears him leave his suitcase in his room. He waits. He hears him talk to Y/N and Shachi by the breakfast table. He waits. Then he hears the goodbyes, the dangling of keys and the slamming of a door. Only then does he dare to leave his room.

He sneaks into the kitchen, desperate for coffee and freezes when he sees it. Penguin is there all right, but so is Y/N. Shachi is nowhere to be seen. Law has made a grave error.

“Hi, Law!” Penguin says cheerfully. “You’re back early? I thought you would be gone till tomorrow.”

“Well, I’m actually not going until next week. They changed the dates a while back.”

Penguin frowns. 

“Uhu, okay,” he says slowly, “so you’ve been… here, this week?”

Law nods, acting like everything is totally normal.

“Then I guess I won’t have to introduce you to-”

“Yeah, we met-” “We’ve already-” Law and Y/N say simultaneously. 

“Great,” Penguin says, clearly displeased. “Just what I needed.”

“Oh, come on, Pen,” Y/N pleas. “Can you be normal about this?”

Penguin looks at her, then he looks at Law, then back at her. 

“Oh my god, did you guys fuck?”

“What, no!” Law sputters. 

“Please say it wasn’t in my bed,” Penguin moans.

“We didn’t do anything,” Y/N says. 

“You know I don’t trust you an inch, you fucking snake,” Penguin says pointedly at Y/N.

“Ok, I admit I tried to, fucking sue me. But I was rejected,” she spits back at him. 

Law is having real trouble understanding the dynamic of their relationship, but his main priority is to reassure his friend. 

“Don’t worry, Pen. Nothing happened,” he says in all seriousness.

“Thank you, man. I honestly didn’t know if I could trust you on this,” Penguin says.

“Of course you can. I would never do that to you,” 

“I can’t believe you’re on his side,” Y/N sighs. “You’re so immature, both of you.”

“He’s MY friend,” Penguin says childishly.

“Why on earth are you jealous? He’ll still be your friend even if I fuck him, right Law?” Y/N asks, looking expectantly at him.

Wait, what?

“I’m not jealous, is it too much to ask that my sister keeps away from my mates?”

Sister?!

“Yes, it’s weird. You shouldn’t care-”

“Guys, stop!!” Law shouts. 

The two of them stop arguing and look at Law confused, and wow, they kind of do look alike when you think about it. Law is stumbling and has to grab a hold of the chair to keep his balance. He slides down into the seat.

“Hey, you alright there, buddy?” he hears Penguin ask.

“Your sister?” Law asks in a quiet anger. “You never said- I didn’t know you-”

“Law, speak up. What is it?”

“She is your sister?!” Law sputters as he looks up at Penguin.

“Yeah, how did you not know? You’ve been fucking her all week,” Penguin says bitterly.

“Oh my god, he did not-” Y/N butts in.

“ Shush ,” Law almost shouts at them. “You didn’t want us to meet because she is your sister?”

“Yeah, of course, I don’t want my sister to-,”

“I have been beating myself up over this all week, Pen,” Law says angrily, “because I thought that she was- If you had only told me from the start, maybe I would have known she was- And then I wouldn’t have had to…” Law wants to cry. "I've lost so much sleep over this."

“Law! Slow down,” Penguin says worriedly. “Who did you think she was?”

“Your girlfriend, Pen,” Law says bitingly. “You know, the one you told me about three weeks ago. You’ve never even mentioned a sister.”

In the background he can hear Y/N laugh quietly.

“Who do you mean my girlfriend?” Penguin asks, confused. 

“Pen, I think he means Shachi,” Y/N says, biting down her laugh.

“No, of course I don’t mean Shachi,” Law says quickly. “I thought you were-” He stops himself and looks at her. “What? What do you mean Shachi?”

“We’re kind of a thing,” Penguin says blankly, looking at Law with unsureness. All annoyance and aggravation seeps out of Law.

“Oh,” Law says simply. “How long has- uhm, since that happened?”

“Couple of weeks now,” Penguin says slowly. 

The two of them look at each other blankly.

“That’s… cool. I’m very happy for you,” Law says honestly, although somewhat strained.

“Thanks man, that’s- that’s very… yeah, thanks."

The silence is weird, mostly because of the big argument that raged on moments ago, which has now fizzled into nothing. Luckily for all of them, Penguin’s phone rings and he walks out of the kitchen to answer it, sending his sister a threatening glare before exiting.

"So you're siblings, huh?" Law asks her awkwardly. 

"Yeah," Y/N says. "I've been abroad a lot, so we don't see each other very often."

"Ah," Law says. 

This puts her actions into a slightly different perspective and Law is embarrassed by his own.

"I'm sorry about last night," he says. "I was mean."

"No, don’t worry about it," she says quickly. "It wasn’t fair of me to force you into that situation."

“Well, but I thought you were… as we already have established that you’re not. And that Pen was… which he isn’t," he says dumbly.

Long silence.

"Yeah, then that would have been cruel of me," she nods.

"It wasn’t on you, you didn’t know.”

“I’m just glad that it wasn’t because you hated me,” she says. “Penguin always talks about you and I was really looking forward to getting to know you.”

“No, not at all, I never hated you,” he reassures her. Memories from the past week come back to him. The looks, the touches, the dream. He feels warmth flooding to his cheeks and neck. 

“I just had a lot of thoughts about you,” he explains, “and I hated myself for thinking that about Penguin’s girlfriend."

"But I'm not," she says slowly, "Penguin’s girlfriend."

"No, you're not," Law says, feeling a smile slowly spread.

"So, what kind of thoughts are we talking about?"

“The bad kind,” he says.

“Care to give me a demonstration?” 

“I thought you knew all about me and my borderline questionable morals?” he asks pointedly.

“Oh my god,” she moans. “You must have thought me the worst person in the world.”

“Only the second worst,” he corrects, “after me of course. I almost gave in to you.”

“Oh?”

They move closer.

“For fuck’s sake!!” cries Penguin from the corridor. “I leave you alone for one minute and-"

Law’s manifesto 1. Fuck those guys who talk down, they’re not worth shit 2. We do it for the kids, not the profit 3. But we do need to live, so fucking unionize 4. Eat shit, William 5. Don’t let anyone treat Bepo like that

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