#they are meant to be more than any other fucks

[slvttyplum]

choso liked to test your limits, dip his toes in the water, and see how much he could get away with, but this time it was fucking you standing up. 

even though you expressed to him that you were extremely sensitive, he still tried to prove you wrong by doing it anyway. lifting. you're up and having your legs wrap around his waist while his hands grabbed a handful of your ass and slammed into you. 

pushing into you deeper every time you came down on him, trying to take in as much as you could, butt the pleasure was already too overwhelming, his dick pressing into your sweet spot every single time, not missing a beat. 

every time his dick kissed your sweet spot, your stomach would tingle, and your walls would clamp around his dick that was sliding so easily inside of you. he was hitting spots you didn’t even know were there, his hand sliding up to your hips, pushing you down on his more, his low grunts in your ear.

the grip you had on his shoulder slowly loosening as he progressively gets faster, he wasn’t going to stop any time soon, the way he felt your wet pussy slide up and down with ease every-time he slammed into you was something he couldn’t get out of any other position. 

even your legs and thighs were getting weak because of the intense pleasure bursting throughout your body, you obviously couldn’t hold on, your body slowly letting go as choso keeps going. choso wrapping his arms around your waist tightly still going, he wasn’t going to let you move once inch more until his knees were giving out. 

pushing deeper inside of you out of spite, he knew you wanted to get out of him fucking you in this position, but he couldn’t have that happen; he had to teach you better than he could tell you, even if that meant holding all your wait while thrusting inside of you. 

“i got you baby, just take it.” whispering into your ear as he keeps going, he could feel how tight you were squeezing around him, that’s the feeling he was looking for, that’s how he knew you were feeling good, wanting him to fuck deeper inside of you. 

his bare chest rubbing against yours as your eyes squeeze shit trying not to cry from all the pleasure, he wasn’t going to stop so you had to endure the overstimulation and choso knew that, that’s why he kept going. kissing you as slams you down deeper onto him, he wasn’t breaking a sweat, instead it felt like he was breaking you in. 

“there you go. just keep taking it, you can do it.” your head thrown back along with the tip half of your body, choso taking that chance to kiss your neck and slowly lick your breast, licking over your nipple and sucking. 

that whole night was filled with choso fucking you back to the whole, holding you up, making sure you weren’t going to slip out of his grip. there was no complaining out of you, only moans and whimpers as he fucked deeper into you each round. 

it was so hard to keep the pleasure you were receiving inside of you, your moans hitting the walls and his mouth all on your neck and breasts, licking over you. choso wanted to drive you crazy, the looked that appeared on your face whenever you were overstimulated only made choso hornier. 

the way his blood flowed through his body whenever he felt you squeeze around him and squeezed around him made for a nasty combination of moans and his cum leaking inside of you and slowly dripping out. 

that’s the shit he loved, and that’s why he liked to push your limits. get out of your comfort zone so he can dig you out deeper until your body gives out. 

he was going to get what he wanted each and every time. 

[homunculus-argument]

My usual problem of "and then some other shit happens" is that they keep piling up on top of each other. This morning, I was just about to start work when

mail comes in. I've received a letter from the tax office.

I open the letter and get a Fuck No Way That's Right kinda bill.

time to hit up my accountant and ask what the fuck do I do now

realise that I haven't delivered my accounting stuff for like four months either, gotta apologise to her about that too

e-mail doesn't go through, double-check the address, re-type my whole apology and explanation again

four consecutive e-mails do not go through

fuck I gotta call them, where's my phone

just as I was about to make a phone call, I receive a phone call

forgot I had a phone appointment with my doctor, turns out I do not have a natural physical resistance to poison damage, and my medication resistance is something else.

confident in my ability to execute two unrelated tasks at once, I take a sip of my tea while on the phone. Naturally I fuck it up and pour the lukewarm tea on my lap instead.

figuring that since I'm unhurt and only poured enough to soak my clothes, not my chair, I'll just sit with the wet tea on my lap until the phonecall is over, and hang them to dry on the balcony later.

phonecall done, I remove my clothes and go hang them up to dry.

spot my little ficus tree cutting on the balcony, decide to water it since it's so hot and I don't want the thing to die.

coming back inside after leaving my clothes on the balcony, my boyfriend sees me undressed and wants affection.

he also wants to show me a video that he came upon.

make myself more tea

coming back to my computer, remember the phonecall I was supposed to make.

call the accounting people and tell them I can't e-mail the person I worked with, and get informed that the person I had been working with quit unexpectedly, and the one currently running the whole business on her own will look into my shit once she's personally out of the hospital. She meant to call me earlier about What The Fuck I'm Doing but unfortunately hospital.

promise her to deliver my accounting things today since it's the least I can do to not make her day any worse than it already is.

save through my paypal activities, log onto my online bank, check my account and do some math to confirm that I should more or less be alright until my next payday. Move some more money to my bank card account for groceries, and log out.

remember that the reason why I logged into my bank in the first place was the accounting, and log back in to get that data.

send my records to my new current accountant with apologies for not doing that for four months despite of being supposed to do it monthly.

finally done with that, satisfied of actually Getting Things Done, I suddenly realise I've spent the past three hours on random sidequests, haven't even touched whatever it was that I was planning to do today, and top of that I've completely forgotten what it was that I meant to do.

waste another half an hour writing a meticulous account of how I spent my morning doing everything else than what I meant to.

[sexbot300]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹  rival!gojo head-canons

contents: 18+, mdni. rivals to (maybe) lovers. slight fluff, suggestive, crack, slight angst if you squint, smut. gojo satoru x reader.

tw: mentions of sex. actual descriptions of it. suggestive talk. unprotected sex p in v. oral. pet names. degradation. humiliation. satoru being somewhat of an (loving) ass.

a/n: i literally forgot how much i love writing head-canons. i left this one on a cliffhanger on purpose teehee lolz. thank you so so so much for the followers and support i'm getting. luv to hear your feedback! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

rival!gojo who has his patience and ego tested the minute he found out who you were.

rival!gojo who finds it endearing that someone other than him is on par with being the strongest. if endearing meant slightly blood-boiling.

rival!gojo who only heard word that you can “maybe” beat him in a fight and he “maybe” holding that as a grudge.

rival!gojo who sees you for the first time and his brain does a hard-factory reset.

rival!gojo who only laughs to himself that the world is cruel for making his own “arch-enemy” the hottest thing he’s ever set his eyes on.

rival!gojo who was starstruck, he knew that he had to know everything about you, for “research reasons.”

rival!gojo whos first encounter with you went something along the lines of:

“heard you’re the strongest.” “funny, heard the same thing about you.” “try not to die.” “are you kidding? and hand you over the title like a fucking crown?”

rival!gojo who jokes with your own students about joining the winning side, leaving you to be taught by him.

rival!gojo who will never admit that he lovessssssssssss that someone is as strong as he is, contradicting any bit of “malice” he has towards you.

rival!gojo who won't hesitate to call you, “princess” to mock you. truthfully, he’s mocking himself knowing that deep down he wouldn’t mind calling you that in all seriousness.

rival!gojo who purposely sits across from you in important meetings, taking any and every opportunity to speak to you. arms crossed over his chest while smiling. “dont get why i'm here really. look at her, she’s a big girl. i probably can leave the jujutsu world and it’ll be just fineeeee.”

rival!gojo who knows that the world needs him, but wants to be showered in compliments that prove he’s better. he only glances your direction, “ah, but if i leave, who will keep you on your toes?”

rival!gojo who after many, many years has this “relationship” with you that consists of; sly comments, wandering eyes, and moments that leave you both questioning the other.

rival!gojo who knows your favorite color, season, show, drink, how you like your toast charred—- what? he’s just getting to know his “enemy” a bit more, relax.

rival!gojo who knows that you’re both the strongest, so it’s a ticking time bomb of who caves in first.

rival!gojo who no one can ever tell if you guys fucking hated each other or were just straight up fucking.

rival!gojo who purposely turns off his limitless near you, making excuses that “you’re no threat” to him. he secretly wants you to touch him because it means he’ll get to touch you.

rival!gojo who will never miss the opportunity to pass snide comments:

“ms. superhero is here, everyone clear way.” “not enough room on this earth for your ego alone, gojo.” “please, call me satoru.” “hm? why is that?”  “just want you to memorize the name of the person who’ll beat you one day.”  “if you’re trying to be sly with your insults, doing a terrible job.”  “princess, it’s not classified as insults if it’s the truth.” “would it make you happy if i just infatuated your self-worth like everyone else?” “there’s a lot you can do that can make me happy actually. start off by shutting up, maybe?”

rival!gojo who is constantly told to stop provoking you as the higher-ups know if you both take it too far, an actual war will break out. “gojo, behave yourself.” he only pouts, arms crossed over his chest, “whattttt? I’m being as friendly as i can be!”

rival!gojo who overhears the higher-ups scold you for replying back to his comments that are on equivalent with his childish behavior. “don’t entertain that idiot.” you only blink dumbfounded, “he started it! i’m nothing but kind and he's just a dumbass with too much power.”

rival!gojo who actually knows every little detail he wanted to about you. If it was your technique, dirt on you, your weaknesses, believe he’ll already know. “still keeping tabs on me?” “i don't understand, even if i was, we’re supposed to be working together sweetheart.” he only snickers, “although, you wish you mattered that much.” eliciting an eye-roll from you.

rival!gojo who actually finds you funny. someone who can keep up with him in all categories? yup, he’s making you his one way or another. you’re either the greatest blessing to occur to him or the reason he believes love truly is a curse.

rival!gojo who does find out if you’re attracted to someone or not and keeps a bit of an eye on who you’re interested in. by no means will he stop you from pursuing who you want, you deserve to feel happiness even if it isn’t with him. even if it means if it’s short-lived happiness, it was enough for a sorcerer who’s life-span is a guessing game. but he’s greedy. he’s selfish. he doesn’t want anyone else to take you, and he won’t directly interfere, but don’t think he isn’t pulling ropes in the back. 

rival!gojo who’s been your secret admirer for a while now, making sure to purposely get you gifts no man outside of his own status can ever top off. even if they were in his own status, he’ll quickly prove that he IS the Gojo Satoru and no one can top that off. if he can't outright admit he wants you, his pseudo-identity will. who do you think bought you those bouquets that swarmed your house that one valentine?

rival!gojo who notices that you’re wearing the pricey bracelet he bought you, snickering softly, “wow? the evil witch managed to successfully cast her spell in making someone like her?” glancing his direction, noticing a smug look on his face as his chin rests on his palm. “dunnooo gojo, maybe you’re not the only one here people find attractive.” you state, eyeing the handsome face of a man who would eat that shit up if you admitted it out loud. with a shit-eating grin, he spoke, “oh so you find me attractive?” unamused in a softer tone, “never said that, never will.” clicking his tongue, a deeper grin stretched out his pink lips. “you’ll come around eventually.”

rival!gojo who noticed that the bracelet didn’t have a cute necklace to accompany it, making a mental notice.

rival!gojo who isn’t actually your rival, he knows that you know he doesn’t have a big ego that you use as a cheap jab. there’s an unspoken mutual solidarity between you two, maybe the faux rivalry and self-worth being tested was a result of a fake relief you both fell in. maybe you can both pretend that all is well in this world. labeled the title of the strongest places all the responsibilities on both of your shoulders. he feels for you that this life isn’t kind to you or him and he feels a pang of guilt knowing that what’s expected of him, is expected of you too. does he hate you at all? never. does he hate knowing that someone else is burdened with the same path as him? more than anything.

rival!gojo who doesn’t understand why you’re still fighting. he has wealth, good looks, a huge dick, a sense of humor and is the not only the strongest but is a clan head. why don’t you just let him take care of you instead? why don't you end up in his arms at the end of the day? why don’t you let him massage the knots in your back and clean up dried-up wounds? why don't you unravel in a bath with him as you lay on his chest, playing with his fingers? why don’t you let him try the same sweets he really likes? why don’t you just let him occupy your world like you have with his?

rival!gojo who won't simply go at it with you like teenagers, he wants to see who will fall into the trap of falling for their rival first. he notices the way your eye lingers on his lips for a split second, or your face that paints that you feel tempted to bite the apple that god forbade you to. he wasn’t an idiot, and neither were you. he wasn’t physically keeping a distance from you more often because he was repulsed from you, no, it was quite the opposite. he knew that if given certain stances, he’d lose all control. but gojo didn’t want that, this was a game. he had to win. It wasn’t about a title anymore, it was about you. he had to win you.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ 

rival!gojo who has sexual tension with you that can be cut with a knife, making everyone in the room shift in their seats.

rival!gojo who just eyes you up and comments under his breath that you’re probably so tense from the lack of dick you’re getting. “what was that satoru?” “nothing at all princess, you’re hearing things. get your ears checked out maybe.”

rival!gojo who doesn’t want to get under just your skin but under your sheets too. 

rival!gojo who wants to dominate you in every aspect, especially in bed.

rival!gojo who wants to pummel your pussy into the ground whenever you catch an attitude with him, which is mainly all the time. this one particular time when taking down a curse led you both on thin ice. “satoru, you’re supposed to guard me. the curse could’ve easily escaped. what the fuck were you doing?” you state walking close to him, arms out in disbelief with furrowed eyebrows. “huh, well maybe if you knew what you were doing you wouldn’t be relying on me.” he looked down at you, voice brattier than usual. “rely on you? i’d rather be thrown on the ground right now and have a special grade eat me whole.” faces only inches apart, he tugged his blindfold above one eyes, face growing cold. “I doubt it would remotely even want to eat something as vile as you.” your eyes only glued to his somber face, looking beautiful when disparaging as if it was double the taunting. clearing your throat, “as if it would want to taste you.” a gust of wind escaped his nose in disbelief, “please, it wouldn’t be the only thing here that would want to taste me.” pupils dilated, eyes directing staring in each others souls, you only scoff. “and who’s to say that you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to throw me on the ground?” his once stern face, had a hint of lust wash over in the form of a slight smirk, “not really a fan of wrestling someone so weak, i’ll just feel bad for you. really.” given the circumstances and the hoards of curses making way, he actually regretted not taking you right then and there. his idea of wrestling equating to absolutely demolishing your guts.

rival!gojo who wonders what it would be like to shut your soft, plush mouth up with his own.

rival!gojo who wonders if the bitter insults that roll off your tongue taste sweeter in his mouth.

rival!gojo who is more than giddy to hear that you’re assigned together to train, because he’s not just thinking of physically fighting you. his mind trails off to training you to take his cock instead.

rival!gojo who wants to test your strength in seeing how many rounds you can go with him. this isn’t about training.

rival!gojo who imagines taking you in for the first time; raw, ass up in the air, back arched inhumanely possible, large hand gripping at your hair follicles, and the harsh slapping of skin filling the room. he needs to take you in the most humiliating way, he wants to make you feel all sorts of ways while all he does is snicker about how good you clench on to him in a lewd position.

rival!gojo who often thought about calling you his cum-slut, while he’d make your pretty tongue lap up and down his thick dick groaning about making sure not to be an ungrateful whore and to swallow every last bit of him.

rival!gojo who can’t tell if he wants to fuck the shit out of you or if he wants you to fuck the shit out of him.

rival!gojo who encourages you to wear shorts and tight clothing while sparring. he literally just wants to make you comfortable, nothing at all hidden underneath.

rival!gojo who just takes his sweet time trailing his eyes all around the curves of your body before smiling softly.

“something caught your eye satoru?”  “ohhhhhhh, nothing. just studying your technique.” “is my technique my ass?” “what? a man can’t make sure you have good form?”

rival!gojo who can sense with his six eyes that he gets you wet, he knows that you know which makes it all the better. 

rival!gojo who laughs at you making comments about him probably acting all high and mighty due to a lack of “something.” was it sex? was it his dick? “wouldn’t you like to know pervert?" oh how he wish he can just make you feel the depth of his dick by making you look at the bulge he'd make in your tummy.

rival!gojo who actually does get in a heated making out session with you; hair gripping, tongues slick against each other, moans trapped in each others mouths, dry humping like a bitch in heat, lips engulfing one another. “who the fuck knew that gojo satoru was a needy bitch?” you say breathless, a string of saliva connecting your shameful lips together. “oh please, i was doing the world a favor by shutting you up.”

rival!gojo who finds himself panting as well, dazed out expression, foreheads still touching one another as noses nudge. he huffs slightly, rosy hue scattered across his face. “one more time.” he states breathless, eyes half-lidded. “kiss me one more time,” his voice continues off while you snake an arm around his neck to drawing fingertips up and down his undercut. with his eyes shutting softly and a sudden gulp, “need to make sure i hated it as much as you did. yeah, yeah, something like that.” he murmurs off before your heads are titling slightly, eyes both shut tight as lips press together on a soft impact. juxtaposing the messy, down-right nasty, desperate exchange of saliva masked as a “kiss.”

rival!gojo who finds out himself that your lips were indeed, soft and he liked the feeling of them pressed against his more than off of his.

rival!gojo who has to hold himself back from absolutely demolishing your pussy in the middle of combat. through growing pants, you squint your eyes at him from a distance. “g-growing weak satoru.” he’d only blink slightly, shaking his head mentally, the thought of having you pant for other reasons goes on in his head. while staring at your face, “huh, guess i am.”

rival!gojo who jokes that one day he’ll make you cry. unaware of what he meant by that, you only roll your eyes at his statement. although he would kill to hurt you, he wasn’t lying, he would kill even more to see your precious eyes drown in tears of pleasure when taking his fat cock in inch by inch. 

rival!gojo who has you pinned with your hands above your head as he pushes his muscular upper body into yours, feeling every rigid of muscle on your own. “are you purposely trying to be weak or do you just want an excuse to be used as a rag-doll?” pressing more of his body weight on yours, the clothing unable to hold a barrier of the heat and desire emitted off you two. He grinned, voice dropping an octave, his breath hitting your nose, “you disgust me.” quickly flipped the narrative so he was underneath, arms pinned up above his head while your bottom half straddles his groin. a thick, rock-hard sensation felt underneath you, clothing still having a hard time masking your pulsating clit and his dick that’s twitching. staring directly into his cerulean eyes, “clearly, not enough.”

rival!gojo who just knows your pussy is tight and lethal. he knows you’re practically walking around with a pool drenched between your legs waiting to be spread out by him. it’s even worse knowing that he is right. he thinks he can fix that nasty behavior right out of you with a good ol’ lesson on his cock.

rival!gojo who wants nothing more to completely get lost in your pussy, spending hours either making you cry from his dick or convulsing on his tongue.

rival!gojo who is still patient. patiently waiting for the day you slip up before he thinks of casually slipping his 8 inches in your silky folds. little does gojo know that day will be approaching sooner than later.

[itsv3n0r1s]

HE DID IT! lando norris

pairing, lando norris x gf! reader

summary, in which lando norris finally wins his first race

note, i was crying the entire race watching this man, so proud of him

faceclaim, n/a

masterlist┊༉┊the winner's circle masterlist ┊༉┊taglist

y/n sat in the mclaren garage, her hands clasped tightly together, heart pounding in her chest. she hadn't said a word since lap twenty. lando had been leading the race, and she dared not utter a word about him potentially winning, fearing she might jinx him. her eyes didn't leave the monitor, watching as lando's car dart around the track.

she knows that he's been dreaming of this moment for so long.

beside her, the team members were on edge, their eyes flickering between the monitors and the pit lane. every second felt like an eternity as they waited for lando to cross the finish line.

and then, in a heartbeat, it was over. lando's car streaked past the checkered flag, the crowd erupting into cheers. y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched the monitors.

for a moment, y/n was frozen in disbelief. had it really happened? had lando actually won?

when it came, the words "lando norris wins" flashed across the screen, y/n couldn't contain her emotions any longer. tears welled up in her eyes.

"he did it, he did it, he did it" she shouted hugging some of the team.

she rushed to lando, who was surrounded by his ecstatic team. y/n's heart swelled with pride as she watched him, his smile radiant and contagious. after they put him down, he broke free from the crowd and ran towards her with open arms.

in an instant, they were wrapped in each other's embrace, the world around them fading away as they held onto each other tightly. y/n buried her face in lando's shoulder, overcome with emotion.

"you fucking did it, baby," she whispered, her voice choked with tears of joy. "i'm so proud of you."

her words were barely audible over the of celebration, but to lando, they meant everything. he pulled her close, holding her tightly.

"I love you so much, y/n," he whispered, his voice soft yet filled with conviction.

she looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with tears of happiness. "i love you too, lan," she replied, her voice barely more than a breath.

he's was dragged away to the podium but throughout the entire thing lando's eyes never leaves hers and when he raised the winner's trophy high above his head, a triumphant grin on his face. y/n stood below beaming with pride, her heart bursting with love for the man who had stolen her heart.

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Apologies were in order when Eddie's true whereabouts were revealed, but would a rainy evening bring forgiveness or an even harsher storm? (4.6k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, misunderstanding, anxiety, self-deprication, parental conflict, poverty, jealousy, brief touching, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter eight: mind your own business

A simple conversation changed everything.

Admittedly, it was not your conversation, but one you had eavesdropped on. 

You had turned in the final exam for your Experimental Psych class, ruminating over any possible wrong answers as soon as your paper touched the pile on your professor’s desk. Did you get an abnormal amount of Cs in the multiple-choice section? Were your short answers detailed enough?

And then you overheard two guys talking in the hall, one sounding like he’d just chain-smoked a carton of cigarettes. 

“Dude, what the fuck happened to your voice?”

“Lost it at a concert the other night. Totally worth it, though.”

“What concert?”

“Death’s Echo.”

You froze, hoping your sudden stop didn’t draw any attention to you. Death’s Echo had a concert? Where was it? Is that where Eddie was on Monday night?

Potential exam mistakes forgotten, you strode over to the guys on a quest for information. “Excuse me.” Your lips curved into your best customer service smile. “Did you say you saw Death’s Echo?”

The hoarse-voiced one nodded. “Yeah, why? You like them?” His eyes narrowed in assessment; you clearly didn’t embody his expectations of a punk music fan. A fair enough judgment, because you certainly weren’t. 

“Where did they play?” You pressed, ignoring his question. 

“Webster Hall,” he coughed, and his buddy laughed at his apparent pain. “You listen to them?”

“Yup,” you lied easily, not wanting to stick around and have him find out why a “fan” didn’t even know about a local gig. “Um, feel better!” You hurried out of the building, head spinning with this newfound knowledge. 

Webster Hall. It was just over an hour to get there, which meant that the concert must have started late; a practice not unheard of for more up-and-coming bands. The prime time slots went to the headliners who brought in the most money. 

If Eddie had gone to the concert on Monday, why wouldn’t he tell you? Did he think you’d be angry? Disappointed?

Or maybe he just didn’t want you to know he was blowing off work for a concert, you reasoned, and your opinion beyond that is irrelevant. 

Should you ask him about it tonight? Could you? He might hole himself up in his room, ignoring your knocks and only coming out after your shift.

Maybe that was for the best. 

His harsh words from last night continued rattling around your brain, barely taking a reprieve during the test. Honestly, you were grateful you wrote down actual psychological terminology instead of I am a total hypocrite over and over until self-deprecation filled the pages. 

Tomorrow was your last official day of your undergraduate career, your own personal deadline for confessing the truth to your parents, and yet you were no closer to being ready than you were when you first made that silent promise. 

The problem spun a web woven from neurons and synapses, its delicate threads slowly taking over your mind and catching the most daunting tasks. 

NYU Essay revisions Graduation The motel Eisen’s Eddie

Too much. It was all too much, but you couldn’t shake them from their entrapment. You wanted to squeeze your eyes shut and only open them once everything had been resolved. 

You had a fleeting thought of boarding the bus and remaining seated as it rolled past the motel, leaving it all behind and reclaiming your sanity. Running away was always an option, in theory; realistically, you would be overwrought with guilt before the bus made it to the next stop. 

What you’d once considered loyalty was now stained with splotches of cowardice. 

Maybe one day, you would be able to see yourself the way you wanted to be seen: as a trailblazer, a go-getter, a woman in pursuit of her dreams. 

Today was not that day. 

Rain streamed down from the clouds in thick sheets as though compensating for the week’s idle threats of stormy weather. It pelted against the motel’s windows like a steady drumbeat that wouldn’t be drowned out by your clock radio cranked up to its maximum volume. 

Darkness loomed in the night sky, heavier than usual. Wind accompanied the rain, jostling the power lines and making the lights flicker. 

If the electricity went out tonight…

You couldn’t finish that thought, not when the front door swung open to reveal Eddie, drenched from head to toe. His curls clung to his forehead, his cheeks, the back and sides of his neck; his chest heaved beneath a faded Black Sabbath t-shirt that was saturated with rainwater. 

He stood in the doorway for a moment, unmoving and catching his breath. 

This was your chance to apologize. To admit what you know—what you might know. The timing of the Death’s Echo concert could have been a coincidence, but your intuition told you it wasn’t. 

Another awkward smile that didn’t reach his eyes, a tentative “hey,” and he was trudging past you without attempting to stop.

Opportunity went as quickly as it came. Every word you had planned had been scrambled like a tornado swept through your brain and left gibberish-laden debris. 

The version of you that had confidently confronted him about smoking pot a few weeks ago would have scoffed at the way you failed to utter a simple apology. But this was much more complex. 

Eddie’s forgiveness—if he forgave you—was only half of the battle. His blatantly false accusations about your work ethic had cut too deep to ignore. 

Did he really think that little of you? Or was that his own defensiveness rearing its ugly head and taking over?

Then came a cry from down the hall.

“Of fuckin’ course!” Eddie boomed loud enough to be heard beyond his closed door. “Goddammit!”

You abandoned the desk, grabbing your essay papers and bolting to his room. He was at the window, violently pushing down on the pane, but it remained open. The shirt he’d been wearing earlier laid right next to the door as though he’d peeled it off as soon as he stepped into the room. 

Your eyes landed on the dusting of hair that was now plastered to his pecs, another effect from the weather, the soft brown tendrils partially obscured by his demon head tattoo. 

This wasn’t the first time you’d seen him bare-chested. The night he had arrived, he answered your knock in only his Calvin Klein boxers. He was wearing Fruit of the Loom tonight, the elastic waistband exposed from the weight of his rain-sodden jeans. 

Heat burned in your belly, a sensation you hadn’t experienced in a long while. 

“Little help?” Eddie grunted impatiently, and you nodded, tossing the essay onto his nightstand among a sea of his own handwritten papers. 

Had he caught you staring? 

He moved over, bringing both of his hands to the right side so you could press both of yours to the left. The combined force was enough to smack it closed, the resulting burst of wind sending the papers airborne. They floated to the ground, paragraph-laden parachutes, but all you could focus on was the patch of carpet beneath you. It was completely soaked, visibly darker where the rain had seeped in, and it squelched under your sneakers.

“I’ll grab towels.” You started towards the door, pausing to scoop up a sheet of looseleaf that had landed near your feet. It was obviously Eddie’s; his was not as meticulously curated as yours, full of scratch-outs and barely legible, but the words you could make out were enough to pique your interest.

Want what I can’t have

She’s got me mixed fucked mixed up

You couldn’t read any more of it without him noticing, and you certainly did not want to get caught snooping after upsetting him, so you placed it on the bed as casually as you could.

There were extra towels stored in the supply closet, and you jogged back to the lobby, mentally calculating how many you’d need to sop up the mess. Taking as many as you could carry, you perched your chin atop the oversized pile and lumbered into Eddie’s room, dropping them to the ground. 

To your dismay, he had put on a new shirt, but it did nothing to temper your thoughts of running your fingertips over his inked skin. 

The air was now rife with the scent of burning tobacco, the cigarette between Eddie’s lips already smoked halfway to the filter.

“Thanks.” It was muffled and gruff, hardly an olive branch, but it was enough to tug the corners of your mouth in a tepid smile.

You wanted to stay, wanted to ask about what he had been writing, but Eddie snatched up your essay papers from where they’d scattered before you could ask. He shoved them towards you, leaving the edges creased where they crinkled under his grip. 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t vandalize them,” he sneered. A gray cloud whorled from his lips as he spoke, but it didn’t hide his sarcastic grin. 

You steeled your gaze and forced yourself to look just above the glowing ember and into his eyes. “I’m sorry.” You let your apology float downwards, watching for any indication of a softening expression, but he remained tense. 

“You didn’t even bother asking where I was,” he spit. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, less abrasive this time. “I assumed...because you were so mean to Ben…” Any further explanation felt too much like an excuse, so you left the sentence unfinished.

Eddie’s chest deflated slightly, his bravado extinguished. He’d been expecting a fight, you realized. 

You refused to give him one. 

“Were you at Webster Hall?” Your voice deliberately turned up at the end, careful to pose it as a question rather than a declaration. Certainly not as an accusation. 

Eddie flinched, his forefinger and thumb quickly pinching his cigarette to keep it from falling. “What?”

“Monday night,” you said. You pushed your right foot into the mound of towels, hit with a sudden bout of antsiness. “Was your errand seeing Death’s Echo play at Webster Hall?”

He said nothing, just looked at you. Really looked at you, assessing whether or not you deserved to know the truth. 

The admission came out gradually, as if it was being met with resistance, pulled from a place so deep he had forgotten its existence. 

“Yeah.” 

“Why?”

Eddie took another drag from his cigarette. He held the smoke in his lungs until forced out with a cough. “Wanted to hear how they sounded with their new, ah, frontman.”

Lower lip tucked snugly beneath your front teeth, you nodded. “And how did they sound?”

“Great. Really fuckin’ great.” His wry smile held more sadness than amusement. “Better than when I was with them.”

Your heart lurched. Without thinking, you reached out and took his hand, giving it just a little squeeze before letting go. “I know that’s not true,” you said. “I heard you playing on Sunday, and you’re good, Eddie. Not just anyone could pull off playing Metallica without an amp, but you did.” 

You wished he could see himself from your perspective, see the man whose talent was too vast for a dingy subway station, whose music deserved to be heard by sold-out crowds at The Garden.

Eddie didn’t agree, but he didn’t disagree, either. His face remained neutral, and given the circumstances, you considered that a win.

“I can work tonight. Hang the new wallpaper.” A lightning-speed subject change, but you were becoming accustomed to seamlessly shifting tracks to follow his train of thought. “I’ll be back out as soon as I finish this.” He lifted the cigarette to his mouth again and you nodded, closing the door behind you.

Part of you expected him not to return. If his brain worked like yours, he would overthink the conversation, replaying it over and over until he’d wrung out all the positives and left it saturated with the negatives. He’d opt to stay in his room and smoke out his pack, leaving the wallpaper job unfinished. But you heard the door hinge creak and his footsteps pattering into the lobby.

One thousand words flooded your brain to form myriad sentences, from a joking long time, no see to a much more serious who were you writing about?

Ben thought Eddie had feelings for you, ones that stretched past the platonic confines. But he’d only met him once, briefly. He didn’t really know him. 

Want what I can’t have She’s got me mixed up

Did you really know him?

Eddie had an endless list of things he couldn’t have, which often was the case for people facing poverty. As for the girl who had him mixed up, you couldn’t narrow that down, either. The only women you’d seen him interact with were Phyllis (an unlikely muse, but it wouldn’t be the most bizarre case of unrequited love you’d ever heard of), your mom (again, not likely), and you. 

There was no doubt you had him mixed up. Maybe even fucked up, as he’d written and crossed out. But had you had enough of an effect on him to warrant poetry or song lyrics–

Song lyrics.

It all clicked into place: The band; more specifically, the drummer who happened to be his ex-girlfriend. He’d gone to see them play. He could have spoken to her, and maybe realized that a spark was still present. A real spark, not whatever pathetic flicker you might have felt that night when he’d held your hand as you removed wallpaper, or when you’d exchanged gentle touches after his unfortunate wasp’s nest encounter, or when he’d loomed over you in the subway car and a delicate dip in your belly made itself known.

You decided that this explanation, the one in which you had little to no involvement, held the most logic. His inspiration was his past love–potentially his current love–and your argument was a mere distraction from a much more complicated situation.

A natural silence fell over the lobby, a healing balm over the wound you’d taken turns picking at and reopening. It was the perfect setting to finish editing your essay, and yet you found the task impossible. Any threatening grammatical errors paled in comparison to the slight movements of Eddie’s back muscles, visible through his white cotton shirt as he smoothed down the wallpaper panels. 

The pronounced flex of his tricep as he drove the paper cutter above the moldings with utter precision. 

The soft grunt that escaped his lips as he pressed on his thighs to stand up and admire his handiwork. 

You didn’t know how long you’d been staring at him before the slamming front door snapped you out of it. 

“L-Looks good,” you managed, throat suddenly bone-dry. 

Eddie crossed his arms, took a small step back, and nodded. Wide brown eyes scoured the wall for any uneven edges or unglued seams, his lips pursed in concentration. “Not my best work but, uh, it’ll do.” He smirked at you, then jutted his chin to your left.

A middle-age man stood beside the desk, rainwater dripping off of the slope of his nose. He held an umbrella, turned inside out and rendered useless by the wind. 

“Sign out front says ‘vacancy.’” He grumbled and swiped at his bushy eyebrows, revealing a sliver of beer gut when he raised his arm. “Just need a room for the night.”

“Mhm, of course.” You found your footing with a polite smile and collected the stranger’s money, just as you always had, just as you were supposed to. Because you were at work, and that was your job–not watching Eddie hang wallpaper.

As you scanned the wall behind you for a key, a warm whisper tickled your ear, breath tinged with a smoky aroma. A shiver reflexively wiggled down your spine as Eddie spoke, your body unused to this level of proximity.

“Put him away from my room. He looks like a snorer.”

You tucked your lips into your mouth to stifle your laughter. Eddie was right; you weren’t quite sure what it was about the man, but he did look like he snored. Loudly. 

You meant to look over your paper after your shift, but sleep was too seductive to resist. Just one more day, one more final exam, and then you were done. At least until August. 

Summer stretched before you, and though you would still be spending nights behind the desk, your days were wide open. 

Days that might be spent alongside Eddie. 

There was no formal apology from him last night, a fact that nagged at you throughout the bus ride to school and prevented you from looking past the first page of your essay. That, and the burdens of shame both you and Eddie carried: yours from the blatantly wrong accusation, his from…what, exactly? Why was he embarrassed to tell you where he’d been?

The wound was still too raw last night to press on it, to ask further questions; instead, you kept the conversation light and airy. The only foray into dangerous territory came from Eddie himself when he asked about the vandalism at Eisen’s. You couldn’t answer fast enough before clumsily pivoting the discussion to the warming weather.

And maybe it was your inner people pleaser that craved reconciliation, needed it to unfurl and bloom like a budding rose, that lowered your guard and bade you to talk with him. But people-pleasing didn’t explain the warmth that crept through your body, lazily winding through your veins, when he laughed at your jokes.

That laugh–the gentle nose scrunch it evoked, the lightheartedness it exuded, how it chiseled away at the remaining iciness between you. It was all you thought about that night, your heart relaxing as the friendship was no longer in limbo. 

But when you got to class and flipped through your essay one last time, that newfound homeostasis meant nothing. Yes, there were ten pages present and ready to be stapled, but unless your conclusion focused on angsty song lyrics, you were missing the final page.

Dread’s chill pricked at you, followed by an overbearing wash of heat. The granola bar you’d scarfed down threatened to make a reappearance. 

Stupid. How could I have been so careless? All I had to do was check before I left home, but I was too busy thinking about Eddie to do the bare minimum.

It was a bad dream; you’d wake up and find yourself in bed with your full essay safely stored in your bag. All you had to do was wake up and page ten would be a continuation of psychological development in infancy. 

Your eyes opened hopefully, but you were still in the classroom, and the page still beared Eddie’s sloppy scrawl:

I’m the castle She’s the queen Can’t be a king I’m too obscene

The lyrics a few lines down stopped mid-sentence:

Crushed beneath a broken dream Failed to launch now I

You were wasting precious time. If you left now, you could probably make it home and back before the professor left. You’d have to fork over the money for a dollar cab and forgo your afternoon coffee, but it was a sacrifice you needed to make. 

Stupid stupid stupid—

Your name being called drew you from your pit of self-loathing. It wasn’t Nora; the voice was too masculine and too far away for it to come from beside you. 

It was someone with the same name. Just a coincidence. 

And then you heard it again. Loud enough so it echoed down the hall, but not frantic. And yet your heart fluttered in your chest. 

Eddie. 

There was no way; he couldn’t be—

You squeezed past Nora and thundered towards the door, trying to quell your hopes before they rose too high. 

But there he stood, sweat pasting his hair to his forehead. His chest heaved beneath a white cotton undershirt that was tight around the biceps. Deep brown eyes lit up when he spotted you in the doorway, his lips curving in a triumphant smile. 

“I have your paper!” Sure enough, your conclusion paragraph was clenched in his calloused hand.

You could have cried with relief. Fueled by gratefulness and residual adrenaline, you flung your arms around him. Your hands found his back muscles; at first tensed, almost reflexively, but quickly relaxed. The paper crinkling between your torsos jarred you out of the moment, and you took a step back before he could return the gesture—if he even would have. 

“Sorry, I…” Words suddenly evaded you, eviscerated by the musky scent of his deodorant. He didn’t appear to be uncomfortable, all soft doe eyes and lazy grins from his unlikely heroism, but…still. Your relationship now teetered between employee and friend, and you couldn’t afford to knock it off-balance. “How did you get here so fast? And how did you find me?”

Eddie exhaled a chuckle. “Took a cab. And when I got here, I asked every other person where the psychology classes were.”

“You walked from where the dollar cab dropped you off?” How many blocks was that? No wonder he was sweating. 

His cheeks, already flushed from exertion, tinged a deeper shade of pink. “N-No, I, um…it was a regular cab.”

Sheer disbelief widened your eyes. He must have dipped into his meager savings to shell out the money for an actual cab, putting him even farther behind in his journey home. 

“I…” There were one thousand ways to finish your sentence. 

I can pay you back. 

I can’t believe you did this for me. 

I am so sorry I ever doubted your character. 

I wish we’d hugged just a moment longer. 

You finally settled on a string of words that required no courage at all, just a genuine thankful smile. “I have your lyrics. Let me turn in my paper and I’ll grab them for you.”

Eddie’s timid expression shifted into one of amusement. “Shit, yeah,” he said with a laugh. “Was wondering where those went.”

Opportunity splayed out in front of you, tempting you to ask him about the woman who had him mixed up. Every cell in your body ached to know if she was the same queen he’d placed on a royal pedestal, unattainable despite his valiant efforts. 

Was it fear or politeness that held your tongue? You weren’t supposed to see the lyrics in the first place; how could you justify your questions? Sorry I read your innermost thoughts without permission, but could I pick your brain about them?

Any doubts about your intentions were confirmed when he took the page from you, cocked his head, and asked: “What’d you think?”

There it was. Your opening. You could see it, practically touch it, your fingertips brushing the chance to admit that the songs’ mysterious inspiration gnawed at you—

But then he might ask why you wanted to know. And, quite honestly, you lacked the energy to figure it out for yourself. The desire was too strong to be nosiness, too personal to be gossip. 

Not to mention the inexplicable sourness that burned your esophagus when you’d considered the high probability that he’d written them about his ex-girlfriend. 

“Really good,” you managed. “I can’t wait for the finished product.”

Coward. 

“Me, too,” he agreed with a laugh. “I’m sure the folks at the train station are dying to hear it.”

“The rats’ll give you a standing ovation.”

He snickered. “My biggest fans.” 

A hand squeezing yours prevented you from getting lost in the slight dimple that appeared when he smiled. Nora now stood beside you, expression innocuous to Eddie or any other man, but her dark brown eyes silently asked, are you okay?

I’m fine, you replied with a squeeze of your own, grateful for someone who swooped in seeing you with a man she didn’t know.

“Nora, this is Eddie,” you introduced her. “He’s–he’s my friend who’s been helping us out around the motel. Eddie, this is Nora, best friend and study buddy extraordinaire.”

“Ahh, Wallpaper Boy.” Nora furrowed a brow. “You go to school here?”

Eddie cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. “No, I…she left her paper, so…” He trailed off as though embarrassed by his chivalry. 

“So now she can graduate!” Nora wrapped you in an embrace so tight that you briefly worried about your shoulder dislocating. She leaned in knowingly, her tone teasing with an air of seriousness. “And keep me company at the ceremony, right?”

You rolled your eyes, acutely aware that Eddie was watching the entire interaction. The last thing you wanted was attention drawn to the fact that you weren’t attending graduation. “Maybe,” was all you said, and Nora left it at that.

There was an awkward beat before anyone spoke again, and it was Eddie who eventually filled the silence. “Heading home now?” He asked you, already starting towards the building’s doors. 

“No, I’m going to Eisen’s. I promised Ben that I’d help clean the graffiti.” You braced yourself for a volatile reaction, or at least something akin to annoyance, but his response was more surprising than any snarky remark. 

“I’ll come with.”

Cocking a disbelieving brow, you did your best to keep your tone free of judgment. You were waiting for the gotcha, but you couldn’t let him know that. “Seriously?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, why not? I’ve got the day free, and I have some…expertise in graffiti removal.” He relented with a shrug when you and Nora exchanged curious glances, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “My trailer got hit a time or twelve back in the day. The tragic life of a Satan-worshiping freak, y’know?”

“But I bet the vandalizers were upstanding citizens.”

“Keys to the city and everything.” Eddie stuck out his hand, palm up, and you could see the details etched into his pale skin. Calluses decorated the pads of his fingers; you’d assumed they were mostly from guitar playing, but now you could add physical labor to their origins. He looked down at his hand, then back at you. “Shall we?”

Your own hands were suddenly slick with anxious perspiration, like a middle school student on her first-ever date. Even that juvenile scenario held more significance than this—two friends scrubbing down a hardware store was a far cry from the Sandra Brown romance novels you secretly devoured in high school. 

And yet, you felt it—that soft electricity that crackled through your whorls of fingerprints when you slid your palm against his, the jolt of energy as he tugged you forward and laced his fingers with yours. If he noticed the nervousness that embarrassing seeped from your pores, he didn’t mention it. 

Nora, ever astute, excused herself with a story about not wanting to miss the bus, but not before whispering in your ear, “he’s cute.” An approval that would almost certainly be followed up with a phone call later to discuss the fine details of the afternoon’s escapades. 

There are no ‘escapades,’ you reminded yourself. You’re removing graffiti, not embarking on a Parisian vacation. 

Eddie led the way until he reached the building’s doors, blinking as his eyes once again adjusted to the sunlight. “I, uh, I have no idea where we’re going.”

You laughed at his candor. “Follow me.”

It was an opportunity to break the grasp, to unleash the anxiety that threatened to cleave you and Eddie back into two separate pieces. He was dangerous because he was temporary; if you allowed him in even farther than you already had—beyond the confines of friendship—his inevitable departure would destroy you. 

Let go. Let go. Let. Go. 

And yet you kept holding on, adjusting only to take the lead. Eddie’s thumb brushed against yours, pausing just at the knuckle to press down in subtle acknowledgment. 

Hi. 

You pressed back with an accompanying smile. 

Hi. 

This time when you reached the subway station, you both jumped the turnstile. 

--

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[taylorswiftstylequestions]

I had a similar reaction on first listen—my gut was like HOW could she write such touching things about THAT 🤮 MAN🤮 but as I’ve sat with it, the touching things are all about the idea of him! And there are glimpses of her being in deep denial delulu (see: I can fix him, “no I’m not coming to my senses!”). I also think back on her time POTY quote “I respond to extreme pain with defiance.” It’s so hard to see something for what it is in the middle of it. Esp if it would unravel a belief system!

I feel like a lot of people find this album particularly hard to digest because they get stuck on the thought of these song's purported muses and their preconceived opinions about them and can't get past their discomfort in how this art sprung from those sources.

And that hurdle is just the first in a long line of subtext in these songs that inherently make Poets an album that you have to sit with. This album is not meant to be digested easily or quickly.

She's manic and an unreliable storyteller. But the feelings she's expressing really did happen to her and she truly sincerely believed in the moment. And even when she was in it, everything was still built up in her head as this idealized fulfillment of the 'fate' storyline she'd told herself she deserved and was finally living out. Sex is intimacy. And then it's not even very good or actually really intimate. Nothing is happening the way she thought. Everything she ever told herself since she was a little girl about fairytales and love is fucking fake. Maybe this is happening to you because you're a monster. If I keep trying to be good and perform I can get it back. Why did I leave him for ... him? Why did he then leave me? Did anyone ever really love me? Do I love myself? What does this even say about me as a person? I really am fucked up and horrible. What was I thinking? How could I have believed any of that? Am I crazy?

And on and on and on.

Literally more than any other album Taylor has written do you have to not just listen to the words she's saying but contextualize the circumstances she's saying them in and how she might even feel about them now.

And if you don't like it I can't emphasize enough how okay that is.

[pb524830]

right where you left me

part: 5 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 3.8k c/w: sexual content, language, alcohol a/n: happy reading my lovelies!!

I snuggle further into Paige. We’d had a slow, lazy morning, complete with sleepy kisses and the most languid, indulgent head I’d ever received. It was now eleven in the morning, and despite already having had her head between my legs, Paige didn’t seem to want to do anything else but lay in bed.

 If I could wake up like this everyday, I would. I’m sprawled across her chest, my face turned up to press into her neck. She smells like she always does - fresh, clean, a hint of sweet vanilla. She blinks down at me, letting her lips spread into a slow grin, then leans down to kiss my forehead. 

I want to try again. I’d decided that much yesterday, perhaps against my better judgment. But it’s Paige, and when it’s her, my judgment flies out the window. I think back to her words from last night as her thumbs stroke over my bare side. How could it be wrong? How could this be a mistake? “It’s us,” she’d told me, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She’d said that to me once, too. That we were obvious. I hadn’t fully known what she’d meant then.

I understand it now, entangled in her in more ways than one, feeling that, even miles away from any place I’ve ever called home… that this must be it.

“Whatcha thinkin’, Mai?” Paige mumbles groggily. She laughs to herself, reaching up to push my hair out of my face. “Remember I used to call you Mai Tai?” I wrinkle my nose. “That shit is nasty,” I inform her. “Bro, you actually hate fun,” she complains, but it’s teasing. “The whole thing is just rum,” I mumble, burying my face further into her. “Can we get drunk together?” She wonders aloud. I frown into her skin. “Didn’t you get wasted enough last night?”

I feel her shrug, then shudder when I press a light kiss into her collarbone. “Yeah, but… I want you to come meet the girls. Or whatever.”

I tense. Ever so slightly. But she senses it, her hand immediately splaying across my back, a reassuring pressure.

Part of me thinks we should talk it out. Like, really talk it out - not just scream at each other in a parked car in the middle of the night. But the other part of me… the other part of me is thinking that I finally have her back. And it’s like I never even lost her. I don’t want to scare her off. I don’t want to fuck this up. 

I don’t want to lose her again.

“I’d like that,” I say, bating my breath.

She kisses the top of my hair. “You’ll drink with me?” She asks. I didn’t drink a whole lot in high school, so it makes sense why she’s asking me.

I shift in her arms, looking up at her. My thumb comes up to trace her chin, ghosting over her lips. I could get used to this - skin to skin, nothing between us. No distance. No history. Just love and desire and the sweet, sweet aftertaste of a night and morning well spent. 

“I’ll do whatever you want, Paige.”

Paige grins at that, her cheeks appling with the smile that envelops her face. “Oh, yeah?” She teases.

I roll my eyes, knowing where this is going, and I sit up, letting the covers fall off of me, and it’s like her eyes have been hyper-programmed to zoom into my bare chest. “Jesus Christ, dude,” she says in awe. I straddle her waist, pushing her head back slightly. “Something wrong?” I ask, cocking my head.

“Mm-mmm. Everything’s perfect, ma,” she rasps out, and it sends heat straight between my legs as her hands find my bare ass.

It’s criminal how perfect she looks in the morning. Her hair is mussed from where my hands gripped her head while she went down on me this morning, her lips plump and bitten from the lazy makeout session we’d engaged in after. Her chest and stomach are littered with purple marks I’d claimed her with last night, tits perky and perfect and just begging to be sucked.

“You talk to all the girls like that?” I ask off-handedly, but there’s not one part of me that wants to know the answer.

“What’s that, ma?” She reiterates slyly.

“I said, do you talk like this to all the other bitches you fuck?” I bite, and though I’m not trying to rile her up, I can’t help taking her tits in my hands, kneading them while I toy with her nipples. 

“Only the ones with asses like yours,” she tells me, her tone low and sultry, punctuating it with a squeeze.

I laugh at this, shaking my head at her.

“Or these tits, God,” she groans, hands coming up to cup my breasts. She kneads them slowly, coaxing small whimpers out of me as my hips buck of their own accord. Then her hand reaches up to lightly trace over my neck and I let out a small gasp. Her eyes flicker to mine. “Can I..?” I nod eagerly, and her fingers close around my neck, squeezing before trailing down. I let my head loll back. Her hand rests on my collarbones, splayed across them.

“Fucking… work of art,” she breathes, referring the the patchwork of marks she’s left across my neck and chest. It reminds me that she’s left a litany between my thighs, as well. Paige hesitates, then reaches one hand out to fumble for her phone. “You can say no,” she murmurs to me, but her eyes are blown so black when she looks at me that it hardly feels like an option.

I want her to have this. I want her to look at it when she’s in Connecticut and I’m in Michigan.

I want her to see it and remember that no one knows her like I do, that no one fucks her like I do.

I want her to get off to it, and I want it burned in the back of her eyelids the second she thinks about even touching another girl.

The steely determination of “mine, mine, all fucking mine” roars through my body as I move my hair to the side, exposing all the echoes of that same phrase she’s practically burned into my skin. 

“Do it,” I say, daring her.

I don’t know where this confidence is coming from. Maybe it’s the way Paige’s lips part when she raises her phone camera up. Maybe it’s the breathy moan she lets out when she shifts back to get a better angle. Maybe it’s the way the bright blue of her irises are flooded with dark, dark, desire. 

But I arch my back, pushing my tits forward. I bring my finger up to my mouth, biting it while winking slyly at the camera. “Fuck, Maya,” she groans, but I’m not done. I cover my tits with my hands, my palms just over my nipples, manicured fingers splayed out, and I throw my head back. Dumbfounded, Paige snaps more pictures, the click of the camera spurring me on. 

Then I take her hand, pulling her fingers towards my mouth. I engulf three of them between my lips, covering them in my spit, licking over her rings, then guiding her hand to cup my breast. Her breath hitches, and I hold her hand there, bringing my other hand up to match it.

“Paigey,” I croon. She’s practically drooling, her eyes hooded when she meets mine. “Take the picture.”

She obeys, her chest stilling as she holds her breath. I hear the click of her camera, before her eyes slide to mine. Then she tosses her phone to the side, tugging me to her harshly.

“You’re the girl of my fucking dreams, I hope you know that,” she mutters, kissing me ravenously, hands roaming my body possessively.

“Mmmm, what are you gonna do with those pictures?” I ask.

“What do you think?” She grins, gripping my ass harshly.

“Say it,” I pant, knowing full well what she’s going to do with those pictures. But I want to hear it - no, I need to hear the admission from her mouth.

“Gonna fuck myself to them.”

“Oh, yeah?” The thought of it, of her long fingers sliding between her legs, doing to her what I do to her… it’s fucking gluttonous. 

“Gonna get off to your perfect fucking tits, you like the sound of that?” She’s instigating, borderline begging me to slot my legs between hers and just ride her.

“You wanna show me how in the shower?” I ask suggestively, placing a kiss at her jaw and then peppering them down her neck. Paige draws back, eyes wide as she stares at me.

Then she practically shoves me off the bed, pushing me towards the bathroom.

*******

“I’m sorry.”

“I said it was fine, Paige.”

“Yeah, but the way you’re saying it doesn’t seem like it’s fine, dude.”

“How would you like me to say it, Paige? Huh? Please - tell me exactly how you would like me to say it, and I’ll do that. Okay?!” I know I’m being snippy at her, and she’s apologized a hundred times, but I’ve never missed one of her basketball games. Ever. At least not one as important as a state championship.

She knew that Michigan scouts would be at this one, and though I had already signed to dance for them, this would determine my placing on the squad my freshman year. It needed to be perfect.

I needed my rock.

So when I’d looked out in the audience, and I hadn’t seen her, I’d spiraled. The panic had settled over me, and I was lucky my autopilot kicked in on stage, because internally, I was freaking out. I just needed to see her. That was all I needed, to feel the calm of her presence wash over me, to know my person was in my corner when I needed her most.

“You’re being a bitch,” she snaps.

I glower at her. “I’m the bitch? Oh, I’m the bitch now?”

She steps to me, towering over me, her breath hitting my face. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are.”

“You could’ve told me beforehand,” I seethe. “You could’ve not made me feel like an idiot for- for searching for you in the crowd when you weren’t even fucking there!”

“Just like how you’ve made me feel like an idiot these past two months?!”

“Oh, don’t even fucking start-”

“No, I’m gonna start! I’m gonna fucking start, Maya, because you have no idea the kind of hell I was living in!”

“We’re done! We’ve been done for a week!”

“Two fucking months! I had to watch her kiss you and hold you and dance with you at my fucking high school prom! Did it ever occur to you, maybe even for a second, that maybe I wanted to do all that shit? That I wanted to buy your stupid fucking corsage and match our fucking outfits and make you a dumbass poster because I’m so fucking in love with you?!”

“You… what?” My room falls silent, echoes of the argument fading away.

I can’t speak. I can’t even breathe. “Paige,” I muster out. “What did you just say?”

She hesitates, eyes evading my own. “I love you,” she spits out. “Nothing I haven’t said before.”

“That’s not what you said.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“It’s not.”

“Fine! I’m in love with you, alright?”

I choke out a laugh, my voice still thick with tears. “You stupid idiot,” I smile affectionately. 

“The worst thing she can say is no, they said,” she mutters to herself, still avoiding my gaze.

I shake my head, opening my arms. “Come here,” I sigh, and she stalks over reluctantly.

I wrap my arms around her, breathing in her scent. “Are you deadass not saying it back?” She demands, and I laugh.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

*******

“You look so beautiful in my clothes,” Paige mumbles, looping her arms around my waist and placing her chin on my shoulder as I finish touching up my makeup. “You’re such a kiss-ass,” I mutter fondly. “You liiiiike it,” she sing songs into my ear. I elbow her sharply in the stomach, and she lets out a dramatic “oomph!”. “Go get ready,” I tell her, and she frowns at me in the mirror.

“My girl so mean to me,” she complains under her breath. I roll my eyes, but my stomach flutters at that phrase. My girl. 

I guess I am. Her girl, that is. I hardly think I ever really stopped. 

Paige reappears in a white crop top and loose black jeans, sunglasses perched atop her head. I let out a low whistle at her in the mirror. She smirks at me. “You see something you like?” I nod, grinning mischievously. “Those glasses are sick. Can I have them?”

She scoffs at this and I edge past her out of the bathroom. “You’re such an asshole,” she complains. “That’s not what you were saying last night!” I yell back at her, digging through her closet. I pick out a stretchy, body-con black dress - one of the few really girly things Paige owns, and emerge with it in hand. 

I quickly change, pretending not to notice the heat of her eyes on me. “Stop staring, you perv,” I toss over my shoulder, slipping the dress on. “You are not all that,” she shoots back, but I know her better. I stand up straight, smoothing down the dress, and take a look in the mirror. Eh. It’ll suffice.

“Not all that?” I muse, turning to Paige. Her arms are crossed stubbornly, but her eyes trail over my body. “Delete those pictures, then.” She rolls her eyes. “Get in the damn car,” she snaps playfully, exiting her room.

Paige drives us back to Azzi’s house, blasting some absurd amalgamation of Polo G and Rod Wave. I fight her for aux, comfortably folding my feet up into the seat. It takes me back to driving back from Drew and Matt’s rec games, or late night runs to Sonic for milkshakes back in Minnesota. “You needa go home after this, or..?” I twist my mouth. “Yeah, probably,” I sigh. Her hand lands on my knee, a securing weight that flushes me with warmth. “Your mom worried?” She wonders.

“You know her,” I mumble. Surprisingly enough, once I’d told my mom I was with Paige, she seemed okay with me having been gone for almost a full 48 hours. I open my mouth, then close it, hesitating. “You can stay at mine?” I suggest. She smiles at me, her face lighting up when her eyes flit from the road to me. “Really? You’re deadass?” I suck my teeth, nodding, then point an accusing finger at her. “Don’t make this a thing.” 

“I’m not making it a thing!” She protests.

I narrow my eyes at her. “I can see it in your face. You’re making it a thing,” I grumble.

Paige sighs, moving her hand to lace her fingers with mine as we slow to a stop at a red light. She presses a soft kiss to my knuckles, deliberately holding my gaze, before pressing on the gas pedal again. 

“Only thing I’m tryna make a thing is us, ma,” she intones, her gaze straight ahead, but a triumphant little smirk ghosting at her lips. I groan, detangling our fingers and throwing her hand back to her side of the car. “Oh, my God!”

“What? That was smooth!” She laughs.

“That was so fucking corny!” I complain.

“You know, what I didn’t miss is this attitude,” she tells me, shooting me a look as she pulls into Azzi’s neighborhood. I stick my tongue out at her, and she gives me a shove. 

It’s… domestic in a sense - this rhythm between us. The banter, the touches - they feel like a choreographed dance. Because there’s still no one who knows me better than her. No one knows every part of me like she does. I stare at her as she unbuckles her seatbelt, biceps tensing. 

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. She glances at me, brows furrowed. “What? It’s chill, bro, I was playing.” I smack her shoulder lightly. “Not for that,” I hiss. “For… For putting you through that. Back in high school. You deserved better. I’ve been… blaming you all this time for giving up on us.”

She’s quiet, floundering for words, so I push on. “I’m the one who started our relationship like that. I shouldn’t have… placed all those expectations on you. And… and our first time being while I was with another girl - fuck, Paige, I didn’t even give us a fighting chance. I’m sorry,” I choke the last word out, suddenly emotional at the fact that the past day could have been the past few years. 

“Hey, hey…” Paige says reassuringly. “Mai, it’s not your fault. Hey, look at me.”

Her hand cups my face, thumb brushing at my lower lash line. “We both fucked up. It’s not all on you.” I shake my head, sighing dejectedly.

“We were kids, dude. We were stupid and immature and we fucked up - I fucked up. I let you walk away, and I’ve regretted it every fucking day since. But this is… it’s forever. You have to know that.”

“Mai.”

I look at her, finally, and nod shakily. “Yeah. I do.”

She smiles softly, kissing my cheek. “Good. Let’s go inside, yeah?” And the second her hand slips into mine, my worries and insecurities fade into nothing.

Azzi’s house is raucous, Paige’s teammates’ laughter echoing off the walls over the loud music blaring in the background. There’s bottles upon bottles of every type of alcohol imaginable lined on Azzi’s counters. She hugs me tight when she sees me, smelling soft and sweet. “It’s good to see you again,” she tells me, smiling at me. I grin back at her. “You, too.”

Paige slings an arm around my shoulders. “Get my girl a drink,” she tells her teammate. Azzi rolls her eyes. “What do you want?” She asks me kindly. I loop an arm around Paige’s torso. “The exact opposite of whatever she’s having, please,” I reply, crinkling my nose. Azzi laughs when Paige looks at me and feigns offense. “I knew I liked you.” 

A few hours into the ordeal, Paige is impressed with how much I drink, and I laugh at her shock. “You forget that my school is actually good at football. This is a full-time job, baby!” I hoot, about three drinks in. Ice tilts a bottle of tequila in my direction, and I whoop, grabbing for the salt on the counter and a lime. “Fill me up!” I cheer. I feel loose and free around Paige’s friends, and even more comfortable when Paige’s hand snakes around my waist. She presses a sloppy kiss to my shoulder, and I laugh happily, patting her cheek.

“Shot, P! Come on, come on! You have to catch up!” I gesture for Ice to pour Paige one, too. She obliges. I dust salt onto the backs of our hands. Then I get it done in one fell swoop: lick off the salt, grab a lime wedge, and shoot back the tequila. I cough as it burns down my throat, sucking quickly on the lime. Paige gags behind me, gesturing for a wedge that I shove into her mouth, giggling.

I watch as her face puckers at the sudden tartness, lithe fingers pulling it from her mouth. She tips her head back, and I take the time to take in the sharp angle of her jawline. Her head lolls back down, eyes seeking and meeting mine. Suddenly, it’s just the two of us in the room, the chatter and din fading into the background.

“Hi,” I say softly. She smiles down at me. “Hey,” she replies. 

Ice coughs. “Y’all gonna fuck, or..?”

Paige splutters at her teammate, and I laugh good-naturedly, patting her arm reassuringly.

We all pile into Ayanna and Aubrey’s cars, heading to a club in Virginia Beach for the night. The strobe lights are piercing, but Paige’s hand at my waist is steadying. It’s all too good to be true - the fact that I even get to be this close to her again, the feeling of her body against mine, her hands all over me, her lips against my ear. 

I wonder, for a moment, how the hell I made it three years without this, because now that I’ve tasted it, now that I’ve had her… I can’t imagine not having her.

Being with her is like going a hundred miles an hour down a highway at midnight, standing up through the sunroof, feeling the cold wind biting at your skin and staring at the stars, thanking God that you get to be alive at the same time as something so goddamn beautiful.

And you’re so delirious and happy and you’re going so fucking fast… you don’t even see the crash coming. 

I sure don’t.

I’m drunk, falling against Paige, and she’s laughing, steadying me. “You good, ma? Can I get you some water?” She yells into my ear. I loop my arms around her neck. “My girl is sooooo good to me,” I slur, smiling stupidly. She matches my goofy expression. “Say that again!” She calls.

I laugh, throwing my head back happily. “My girl!” I yell gleefully, and Paige presses me to her. Her lips find my ear again, and she says, “Come on. Time for water.” Then she places the sweetest kiss on my temple, and my heart just about bursts. I let her guide me to the bar, slumping onto a bar stool while she goes off to hunt for water.

I focus on the spinning lights above me, watching them change colors. I’m so drunk and distracted that I must watch them spin for ten minutes. Maybe an hour? Fuck, maybe I’ve been here all night. 

Shit, I think dizzily. Paige must be worried.

I should find her.

I stumble through the bar, my legs wobbling. My head pounds from the music and the alcohol, and I’m so drunk that I really think I must be imagining what I see next.

It’s Paige.

There’s some girl with her. I think for a moment that she’s far too short to be any of Paige’s teammates, and that none of them are redheads.

Then the girl places a hand on Paige’s chest. I’m frozen in place, watching it all unfold, feeling my heart clench and then shatter to fucking smithereens as the girl stands on her tiptoes.

And she kisses her.

[danveration]

Could you do a Cooper Howard x reader angst? Something with the reader getting injured or dying and/ or becoming a ghoul?

You and your stories are amazing btw❤️!!!

Thank you!

Parings: Cooper Howard x reader

Summary: You get shot and Cooper comes to your aid.

Word count: 1344

Warnings: Guns, blood, shooting, reader getting shot in the thigh, Cooper being a softy

A/N: sorry if you meant post-nuclear bomb. (if you wanted cooper howard like.. normal human & stuff) ALSO I JUST REALIZED THIS ISN'T VERY ANGSTY 😭😭 FFS. I hope you like it either way :))

It was a hectic situation. There were at least ten people pointing guns directly at you from all around. This was not how you expected your day to go. You didn’t even do anything remotely wrong. Just stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time. Which was pretty common around here.

You were by yourself right now, which was another downfall. You didn’t have the capabilities yet to kill a bunch of people on your own. Maybe if you sweet talked them..? You doubt that would work. If only Cooper were here. He would have them all dead in a blink of an eye. Especially because they were threatening you. He seemed to have a soft spot for you for whatever reason. You felt the same way towards him. Even though people would look at you like you’re insane, you don’t care. You can see something in him that nobody else can. He always had a bit of a protective nature towards you the moment you two met. You thought he would’ve killed you, but he just laughed at how scared you looked and ensured that he doesn’t kill without a motive. And in his words “won’t dare harm a pretty thing like you.”

He is currently god knows where. You were tagging along with him but he went to go get more vials. He said he knows a spot where he can snag a couple. That was about two hours ago. It would be great if he just miraculously appeared right now.

“L-listen. I don’t want any trouble, okay? I’m just passing through.” You say, trying to sound brave but the whimper in your voice made itself known.

“Yeah, passing through OUR territory.” One of the men said, with a raspy tone.

“I didn’t know! I’ll go. Right now.” You say quickly, starting to move forward.

“Uh-uh!” One of them yelled.

You hear all their guns go off safely and you stop dead in your tracks. The panic and fear you feel makes your skin develop goosebumps.

“We can’t let you go, can we? What kind of example would we be settin’ if we did?” One of them spoke.

“Oh, just walk right into our territory, It’s all good!! It wouldn't be our territory if we did that, would it?” One of them say in a mocking tone.

“P-please. I just-“ You begin to say.

“Now what on hells creation is goin’ on here?” You hear no other than Cooper’s voice in the other direction.

You subconsciously release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

All the people snap their heads to the ghouls voice. Some of them look scared, but some of them look angry that their fun got spoiled.

“Well? Gonna keep gawking or is somebody going to tell me what the fucks goin’ on here?” He says.

“W-well we caught this one roaming on our territory.” One of the people spoke up.

“And?” Cooper questions them, as if daring them to say what they were going to do to you.

They’re all silent. Except for one. He must be new here or something because he speaks up in an angry tone, “and were gonna kill them.” He says, pointing the gun at you. He looks around at all his other gang members, and how they’re not pointing the gun at you anymore.

He raised a brow, “what’s the big idea? Why’s nobody else-“

BANG

Cooper shoots the man in the arm, not letting him finish his sentence.

Everything went slow from there. You see Cooper giving the man cold eyes, and then from your vision, you see the man look down at his arm, then you see him, with his other hand, grab his gun and quickly shoot you in your thigh before Cooper sends another bullet straight through his head, leaving him instantly falling to the ground.

You hiss out in pain and look down, seeing red liquid gush out and stain your pants.

Cooper whips his head towards you.

“Fuckin’-“ He mumbles as he rushes over, getting on his knees in front of you.

Everyone around immediately makes a quick exit, not wanting to suffer the same fate as the other guy.

Cooper would’ve killed them all for that, if it wasn’t for him not wanting to take his eyes or attention off of you. He feels scared, worried, mad, and mostly desperate. Desperate to stop the bleeding, desperate to go back in time and never leave you alone in the first place. He would laugh at himself for feeling these feelings any other time, just not now. Now he has to focus all his attention on you.

“Is it bad?” You mumble out to him, not wanting to fully look at it.

Cooper thankfully notices how it isn’t in a vital place. The bullet went right through, so he doesn’t have to worry about digging it out or it causing complications.

“Well you got shot, sweetheart. It’s bad but it isn’t deadly. You’ll be alright.” He says, trying to ease the worry off of you.

He’s got to get you to a safe spot so he can properly treat the wound. Luckily he has lots of experience with these kinds of situations.

He stands up and leans down, putting his arm behind your knees, lifting you up and carrying you bridal style.

Your eyes go wide and you gasp in shock, but don’t complain. You don’t think you can walk anyhow.

Your cheeks flush and you feel a swell in your heart from his actions. He walks in silence, his brain wracking at how he shouldn’t have left you alone, and how he swears to make sure this won’t happen again. You’re in his arms, hurting, but for some reason you swear it hurts a little less because he’s close to you.

“This won’t never happen again, I swear it. You better be more cautious around these parts though, darlin’. Especially with me not around. People don’t give no mercy.” He says to you.

A little while later, you’re sitting on a mattress in an abandoned building. Your pants are pulled down a bit on one side, so he has access to the wounded leg. Cooper carefully cleaning and wrapping up your wound with a concentrated face. You stare at him and how his eyes look, how his forehead is frowned down in focus, and how his hands are handling you carefully, as if they aren’t used on a daily basis for killing and violence.

“You’re lucky it’s in this spot. A little to the left or right, and you might’ve not been able to use this leg again. Would’ve had to get you those robot leg attachments.” He says, laughing at the end of his sentence.

“You mean the ones that practically rip your leg to shreds? No thanks.” You say, laughing.

You look at him softly as he’s smiling gently, while finishing up wrapping your leg.

“Now would you look at that? All better.” He says, gesturing to your skillfully wrapped leg.

“Thank you, Coop.” You say. “I’m really lucky you came in time.”

“Well, I’d argue I was a tad bit late, but of course, darlin’. I’m glad I got there before things could’ve gotten worse.” He says back to you, adjusting his hat on his head.

He cares about you. It realized that right when he heard that gun shot go in your direction. His heart sank to his stomach immediately, thinking the worse. He’s going to make sure to keep a tight leash on you from now on out. Not in a bad way, just in a way that he’s able to be there if anything happens.

“Thank you, Cooper.” You say softly out of nowhere, looking at him with a bit of blush on your cheeks.

He nods his head in your direction. “You’re quite welcome, sweetheart. Now why don’t you be a doll and rest up. I might’ve wrapped it all neat n’ all, but you’ll still need to let it heal. We can take a couple hours break here."

[jnnul]

falling in love at first sight (x3)

a/n: so i woke up in cold sweat and i had to write this. there's like 30k i could've written about this but tbh, i needed to get this out lol. also taesan has been living in my head rent free so this is his eviction notice. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

word count: 6.3k

tags: college au!, basketballplayer!taesan x nurse!y/n, honestly it's just a fluff piece, idiots in love, dongmin is DOWN BAD and falls in love with the same girl 3 times, uhh y/n is a feisty nurse warnings: taesan is called dongmin, uhh alcohol + memory loss involved with getting shitfaced lol

HAN DONGMIN DIDN'T REALLY BELIEVE IN SUPERSTITIONS. to him, things like 'knocking on wood' or 'not opening an umbrella inside' were just old wives' tales that didn't have much substance to them.

but after dongmin had shattered his bedroom mirror this morning (he'd accidentally launched his alarm clock across the room after sleeping too late last night), nearly every single thing in his life had gone wrong.

he'd put expired milk in his cereal because kim donghyun (his roommate) hadn't switched out the milk like he'd promised to the day before. then he went to take a shower, only to be burned by scalding hot water since the landlord refused to change the heating system, even though they'd been suffering through the sticky heat of august for fifteen days already. as if all of that wasn't enough, he'd accidentally torn his favorite hoodie trying to clean up the fragments that'd fallen on the floor. and when he was trying to salvage his hoodie, he scraped his forearm against the fragments, meaning he had a nasty gash along the long side of it.

which meant he'd have to go to the hospital to take care of this stupid bloody mess instead of going to class.

that was how han dongmin found himself sitting in the waiting room of the urgent care center of the hospital, a shoddy rag wrapped around his forearm, his essentials hoodie covered in blood, expired milk, and mirror dust.

needless to say, dongmin had gotten more than a few strange looks from the other people in the waiting room in the last four minutes he'd been there.

"han dongmin!" the receptionist calls out, and dongmin launches himself out of his chair, impatient to get this over with as soon as possible.

something about hospitals just gave dongmin the heebie jeebies. the fluorescent lighting, the smell of rubbing alcohol, the tangible feeling of sickness that wafted through the air.

ugh. dongmin hated hospitals. in fact, he was so sure that he would never even step foot in a hospital after this. if he needed to wrap himself in bubble wrap to do so, then so be it because he hated hospitals and he would never come ba -

dongmin stops dead in his tracks, right next to the recovery bed that the receptionist had led him to. standing in front of him was the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen in his life.

you were smiling at something the patient in front of you was saying, leaning over to bandage the patient's scrape with a little bandaid that had cartoon ryans all over it.

fuck that.

dongmin was ready to break his leg if it meant that he got to stay in the hospital and stare at your beautiful face all day. before he could find something big and heavy to knock his leg into, however, you make your way over to dongmin, clipboard and first aid kit in hand.

"hello," you say with a soft smile. "my name is y/n l/n and i'll be taking care of you today. is there anything i can help you with?"

"will you go out with me?" the words escape dongmin's mouth before he can even process what he's saying and you immediately lean backwards, a disproving wrinkle between your eyebrows.

"excuse me?" you say, and it's clear that dongmin's not gonna be in your good graces if he hits on you. he really hoped you were like this with everyone and not that you just found him super unattractive or anything (donghyun swore up and down that dongmin was not ugly - especially now that he'd dyed his hair! but donghyun also never had to chase after a girl in his life so...). or worse, if you already had a boyfriend.

but before he can ruminate about your affronted stance too deeply, dongmin rushes to fix his mistake. "i mean, hospitals really freak me out. the ethanol smell and the lighting and everything kinda gets in my head, you know what i mean? do you think you could just slap some gauze on outside?"

the tension in your shoulders immediately relaxes and you take a step forward once more, setting the first aid kit down next to dongmin.

"oh yeah, that makes sense," you say, sounding relieved. "unfortunately, i can only provide care while inside the hospital to make sure that the instruments and gauze are sterile to prevent any contamination. i promise i'll be as quick as possible so i can get you out of here!" you explain, a slight pout tugging your lips down in the most adorable way as you seem genuinely sorry for dongmin.

it was official: han dongmin was in love.

"no, don't worry. take your time. i mean, the cut is pretty bad and i don't wanna leave any mirror guts in it," dongmin says. as quick as possible, my ass, he thinks to himself. i gotta find a way to make this last for as long as i can.

"of course!" you assure, before looking down at the clipboard. "so i assume you cut yourself on a broken mirror? does it hurt when you apply pressure?"

what was the answer that would keep you here longer?

"yes?"

"are you asking me or telling me?"

"telling?"

"very convincing. i'm gonna need to apply pressure and confirm for myself then, if that's alright with you?" you look at him in a way that seems to be somewhat apprehensive and dongmin has never wanted to reverse time more than in this very instant.

until he doesn't because your hands are on his forearm, examining the wound gently and applying pressure around the open gash.

"does it hurt when i do this?" you ask, eyes trained on the way that his forearm muscles ripple and move as you apply pressure in different places.

dongmin's not the most buff guy on the planet, and you checking out his muscles was definitely not for your own pleasure, but at least all of his time on the court and in the gym has paid off in some way.

"uh...no. not unless you're super close to the cut," dongmin says and you nod with a gentle smile. it's in that moment that dongmin decides that he would kill anyone and anything just to see you smile like that again,

"that's good to hear. well, i guess that all we need to do is 'slap some gauze on' after disinfecting the wound and making sure we don't have any 'mirror guts' in it," you say, a hint of cheekiness in your tone. dongmin doesn't know what it is about it but it makes him blush, regardless.

"yeah. that sounds good," he says dreamily, trying hard to compose himself once more when you flash him a questioning look.

you work carefully on his arm, making sure to give a tiny little stress ball to dongmin to use when you descend upon his wound with some antibacterial medicine and rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball.

"so, uh, you look pretty young for a doctor...?" dongmin says, trying very hard to focus his attention on you instead of the stinging pain that came with every touch of the cotton ball on his wound. the more he looked at you, the more he began to wonder if he'd seen you somewhere before.

dongmin wasn't the superstitious type, and didn't exactly believe in 'love at first sight', but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't place you anywhere in his memory.

"that might be because 'm not a doctor," you say somewhat distractedly. "i'm a nursing student."

"oh. oh! you're a nursing student?" he asks. student. that means that you were either his age or just a few years older than him. and it also probably meant that you were a student at a university near by - maybe his?

"yep. a second year. although, don't worry, i've completed all of my first aid clinicals last year itself," you explain, leaning back in satisfaction when you finish cleaning up the wound.

"my school has a pretty famous nursing program, you know. maybe you've heard of yonsei's nursing program?" dongmin asks, eyes shining with hope.

it's only then that you look up at dongmin with an excited look in your eyes, turning to throw away the used cotton balls.

"i go to yonsei as well! i'm just starting my second year. it's a little strange because the nursing program runs through the summer, which is why i'm working clinicals right now. i'm almost done though, so i'll be switching into a field i'm more interested in," you say and dongmin swears he hears wedding bells in his mind. beautiful, kind, intelligent, and the same age as him? it was like god was basically handing his soulmate to him on a platter. maybe love at first sight was real after all.

"me too! well, i'm not a nursing major, but i'm a second year electrical engineering major," dongmin says, watching you turn back towards him with a clipboard.

"mhm, well, i've gotta tell you to be careful for the next week or so. no heavy lifting, sports, and definitely no cutting things. we don't want to make the wound worse, now do we?" you say chidingly, scribbling instructions on the clipboard of how to clean the wound with rubbing alcohol and how many pills of ibuprofen to take per day.

"of course," dongmin says half-heartedly. as much as dongmin hated the feeling of pain, the was the only way that he could think of to get to see you again was to somehow hurt himself again.

"how about you come back in a week to just make sure that it closed up well? make sure it didn't get infected or anything?" you ask, handing him the sheet of paper.

god was real.

dongmin swore he was going to go to church and donate at least 10,000 won for the blessing after blessing he was receiving today.

"oh sure," he says, a mischievous thought popping into his head. "but is it ok if i find you on campus? i have a lot of labs over the next week and i can't miss them if i can't even participate in them, so i can at least get the information. i won't really have time to stop by the hospital," dongmin says carefully, watching your expression to ensure that it wasn't changing with every word that escaped your lips.

technically, it wasn't a lie. dongmin did have a lot of labs next week but that's definitely not why he wouldn't have time to stop by the hospital.

"i don't see why not. i don't need any sterile instruments to just check quickly, so that shouldn't be an issue," you say slowly, nodding to yourself as you look around the little station to make sure you wouldn't need any of the equipment.

"perfect," dongmin says, shuffling out of the bed that he was sitting in to leave before turning around nonchalantly. "do you think i could get your number? so i know where to find you?"

you look up at him, and dongmin tries his best to seem sincere and genuine rather than as calculating as he felt, trying every tactic possible to see you again.

"yeah. yeah, here let me type it into your phone."

he hands his phone over to you, and it takes every single fiber of his being to keep himself from looking excited about any part of this transaction. you were already suspicious enough of him; you definitely didn't need more reasons to add to the list.

you're frowning slightly when you hand the phone back to him so dongmin pockets it without a second thought, to prove that he wasn't trying to be weird.

"thank you so much again." dongmin waves as he leaves, flashing the award-winning smile that he usually reserves for aunties and restaurant owners for free sides. oh, and for his fans.

you don't blush and trip over yourself when he does like his fans do - although you offer him a soft smile in return.

although, dongmin muses, i guess it would be weird if a nurse who met me for the first time would be anything like a college basketball star's fan though. maybe.

he shakes his head, opening the door to the hospital, looking down at his arm wrapped in gauze. yeah. there was no way that dongmin was taking a break from basketball. season started in less than three weeks and as yonsei's point guard, he had no choice but to just power through the injury.

it might work out in his favor after all. at least it would give him more chances to see you.

+++

turns out, the universe gives him a chance less than two days after he sees you for the first time. and in any other case, dongmin would be incredibly excited to see you again. he'd probably be ready, waiting with freshly showered hair and clean clothes and nice smelling cologne.

instead, when he sees you again, he's wearing raggedy shorts, a stained shirt, and holding a basketball that he definitely should not be holding.

dongmin knew he was fucked the moment you walked in through the double doors that opened up to the indoor basketball court of yonsei, light spilling in from the outdoors, along with the chatter and excitement of students returning to university.

you walk in wearing white, along with six other people dressed similarly, the basketball team's physician (dr. moon taeil) at the head of them all. dongmin hopes that you don't recognize him - or at least don't see him actively playing but of course, you manage to turn your head to see dongmin throw the ball out of his hands in a random direction in panic.

the ball, then of course, managed to fall neatly through the hoop, as though dongmin had intentionally thrown it there, causing him to want to die on the spot.

so he couldn't do that during a game with korea university, but now that he was doing everything in his power to keep you from seeing him play basketball, now he manages to throw it in the one place it shouldn't go.

your eyes narrow when dongmin turns to face you, your gaze falling to his (poorly) wrapped forearm. he offers you a trembling grin, which slowly turns into a frown when you look away, shaking your head as you start talking to the girl next to you.

at least you wouldn't say anything to coach about how he wasn't supposed to be playing right now, dongmin thinks to himself. even if i've effectively ruined my chances of her ever believing me about anything ever again. uh. not that i've had more than one conversation with her. or might have more in the future.

dongmin shivers, jogging over to where the basketball had fallen to pick it up and return to his place at the three-point line and continue shooting practice.

he returns to where he's supposed to be practicing, so that his back is facing the group of people who'd entered - namely, you.

"i forgot coach mentioned that we've got new on-site medical staff," dongmin mutters to himself, dribbling the ball before lining up his shot. "i didn't know that she'd be a part of that though - she can't be the sporty type if she didn't recognize me from the hospital."

dongmin is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even feel the dark presence looming over him until the ball is released from his hand.

"HAN DONGMIN!" someone yells, right next to his ear, and dongmin scrambles to attention, wincing when the basketball bounces off the rim and into the cart of basketballs he was practicing with with a resounding clang!

he turns slowly, eyes closed, as if that would make you go away.

"i cannot believe that i bandaged you up so carefully just for you to start playing again! how could you be so careless? do you not want to be able to play during the season? you're yonsei's ace and you're being this irresponsible!" you're heaving by the end of your rant and dongmin blinks, trying to come up with a response.

you definitely didn't know him well enough to yell at him like this - much less in front of all of his teammates - but for some reason, that's not what stuck out to dongmin.

(much to his chagrin, you being angry was hot. like really hot. especially since he'd thought you'd be the soft and cozy type, not the impulsive and quick to anger type. he really liked this side of you.)

"you know who i am?" he asks slowly.

"OF COURSE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! OH, YOU ARE GETTING ON MY NERVES. YOU ASS, I DIDN'T BANDAGE YOU UP THAT NEATLY FOR YOU TO BE WALKING AROUND SHOOTING THREES!"

you're yelling at him, and for some reason, dongmin has never wanted to kiss someone more in his life. he'd never though he'd be this attracted to someone that he's just met yelling at him, much less in front of his entire team and her own entire team. but for some reason, as dongmin looks at you waving your hands all crazy and annoyed, all he can think about it how much he likes you.

it wasn't just physical. of course, he thought you were beautiful - possibly the most beautiful person he'd ever seen in his life and he would die on that hill - but it was more than that. it was as though he'd genuinely fallen in love at first sight.

you could tell him that you were a serial killer and at this point, dongmin would just admire your bloodlust.

"uh. dongmin?" coach jung says behind him, hands crossed over his chest. "do you guys need a moment to step out and come back?"

even coach jung seems a little bit intimidated by your livid state of being and dongmin has to cough to cover up his life.

"no coach. we're done here," you say, turning dramatically on your heel to turn back to your friends. but dongmin moves quicker than even his own mind can process what happens.

before he can think, his hand is wrapped around your wrist, spinning you closer to him, almost as if the two of you were ballroom dancing.

you look up at him, shocked, but dongmin is slow to let go of your wrist, not wanting to lose contact with you.

"no, we need just a moment," dongmin says, his eyes never leaving your own. it's clear that you neither expected this nor were used to this kind of behavior from anyone and before the fight that's building inside of you bubbles out, dongmin tilts his head toward the door that leads to a hallway extending to the equipment room, practically begging you with his eyes.

you aqcuiesce - or at least, dongmin thinks you do - from the way that your shoulder melt just the slightest and you let him pull you into the hallway.

"what?" you snap the second the door shuts behind the two of you. "okay, maybe i didn't let on that i knew you from our encounter, but that's irrelevant. i didn't need to tell you that i knew you. and besides, as your healthcare provider, it would have been extremely irresponsible on my end for me to let slip that i'm a fan - or that i know you personally at all."

dongmin can't help but let a small smile slip. "personally? we know each other personally?"

you fluster in that moment, looking anywhere but at dongmin, bringing a large smile to his face. he'd never thought that the feisty, quick to temper and quick to lose it, loud type was his type but he was starting to enjoy it very much.

"alright, well i know you personally enough, alright?" you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "we've met before."

now it's dongmin's turn to look flustered, as he wracks his brain, trying to come up when or where the two of you have met before. he wasn't the one-night-stand type, so that couldn't be it. he also didn't have an insane amount of friends outside of the basketball team and donghyun's friends, so that wasn't it either.

"i'm really sorry - and i'm definitely trying to hit on you, just not right now - but i don't remember. i'd definitely remember someone like you," dongmin says, and he's well aware of the fact that his tone does not sound any level of displeased, and rather dreamy.

you roll your eyes, looking down at the ground. "we kissed once. twice actually. but um. that's not my point."

you clear your throat, as if you hadn't just dropped the biggest bomb of the century on dongmin, shaking your head. "why the hell are you playing basketball on an injured arm anyway? i specifically said no sports!"

dongmin raises an eyebrow. "you say you're my fan and yet you're still asking me why i'm playing when we have our first game in a week. and hold on. i'm not letting go of that first part; we've kissed? twice?"

you shrug, but it's clear that you don't think of it as nonchalantly as you're trying to make it sound when you speak. "yeah. in freshman year. once in spring semester and then once in fall. it's not a big deal. to you at least. clearly you kiss a lot of girls, if you don't even remember us kissing at all."

"now that's not fair," dongmin pouts, but he's well aware that he's not conveying this well at all. suddenly, a flash of a girl wearing a red dress, looking up at him with big eyes and a pouty lips crosses his mind.

good god. were - were you dongmin's mystery girl?

+++

"what do you mean dongmin finally found his mystery girl? the one he's been crushing on for a full year?" myung jaehyun says incredulously, instantly pulling out his phone to look you up on instagram.

dongmin sits in the middle of his friends, all sitting at the same table as they were supposed to be eating lunch, his head resting in his hands.

"you mean the one that he swore was the love of his life? god, he wouldn't shut up about that for at least six months," lee sanghyuk says, shoveling noodles in his mouth.

"try a year," donghyun groans, rubbing his forehead in pain. "do you remember the state of this kid when he woke up the next day?"

"good god, it was horrible. all he could say for a full week was that he wanted to jump out of the window because he'd lost her number and that he was never going to find true love because he couldn't remember her name, number, or even what she looked like," sanghyuck adds.

park sungho, the newest addition to their friend group, blinks, looking at dongmin, who's head is still in his hands.

"you were down bad, man," he muses and jaehyun on the side of him snorts.

"down bad doesn't even begin to describe it. it got to the point where we had 'girl in the red dress' and 'true love' jars because he would talk about her." jaehyun sighed, looking at dongmin pointedly. "he'd put enough money that we'd bought alc for the rest of freshman year. just in spring semester."

"that's what you get for trying to prove that you could drink a 4lokos without getting shitfaced," donghyun says, nose crinkling as he recalled the hours he had to spend making sure that dongmin wasn't going to die by choking on his own spit. "and he went and did it twice. it took us months to get to the point where we could invite this guy anywhere so as long as he swore not to bring her up again."

dongmin looks up, almost excitedly. "do you think that if i drink another 4lokos, we'll kiss at another party?"

sungho leans over, smacking him upside the head. "you're so fucking dumb. and i can tell just by these stories. you're not allowed to drink until season's over, idiot. and she's on your medical team. why don't you start by making a good impression while you're not so drunk you're going to start insisting that spongebob is hydrophobic."

("you were there when that happened?")

("you idiot, you thought i was spongebob. you kept throwing my drinks away because you thought i was going to disappear into them if i drank them. which makes no sense because that's not what hydrophobic means.")

("oh. sorry man.")

"yeah. just go to the med clinic tomorrow, apologize to her, and bring her flowers or something. women eat that shit up!" sanghyuk says with a mouthful of noodles and jaehyun nods, pointing his chopsticks at him excitedly.

"they do! my girlfriend always feels better with food and flowers," he says, cheeks stuffed to the brim with carbonara.

dongmin's mind races with all of the implications of doing so, but every single one of his thoughts fade away in light of the fact that he could redeem himself in your eyes. he slams his hands down on the table, swinging his legs over the bench to run to the nearest flower shop.

"i'll be back before practice!" dongmin calls out over his shoulder, waving a quick goodbye as he sprints towards the florists.

he makes it to the edge of the courtyard before he hears the yelling of his friends behind him, turning to see them waving at him (and waving some very rude fingers at him).

"YOU FORGOT YOUR WALLET, YOU IDIOT!"

+++

dongmin's friends were useless. absolutely useless.

he'd went and bought the prettiest bouquet of flowers he could find, a nice meal from his favorite bento place, and had even bought three different types of ice cream bars because he didn't know which one you'd like.

he'd walked right into the medical clinic office, his apology gifts all in hand, ready to apologize to you, redeem his honor, and become your own true love.

the last part probably wasn't going to work anyway, but the first two should've been foolproof.

instead, he manages to prove that he was a fool.

as it turns out, he wasn't the only person who thought that the flowers were beautiful; dongmin had managed to bring the queen bee as a secret surprise in the bouquet, which meant that the rest of her hive was NOT very happy that he'd committed royal kidnap, as far as the bees were concerned.

"HAN DONGMIN WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!" you yell from underneath your desk, where you were hiding from the sudden swarm of bees that had followed dongmin in.

he doesn't respond, too busy opening the window to drop the flowers out of, hesitating when he sees the number of people that were lounging around the courtyard that the medical office looked out of.

dongmin lines up the bouquet, sending a prayer to god (any one that would listen) as he shoots the best three he's ever shot in his life, so that the bouquet (and all of the bees that accompanied it) landed far away enough from people to prevent them from getting hurt.

of course, a few brave souls had stayed behind to exact revenge for their queen on dongmin, resulting in upwards of five bee stings, before dongmin finally evaded the great medical bee disaster once and for all.

he turns sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"i don't suppose i could find medical care in this clinic, could i?" he says, and he's well aware of the fact that he's flushed bright red, as he always seems to when he's made a fool of himself.

thankfully, there are only four or five people, including you, in the office to witness this disaster - although, dongmin can see the girl you were talking to yesterday surpressing a smile.

"yeah, of course you could. but we're all headed on break so unfortunately, y/n is the only person who's gonna be able to give you medical care. you know, since you've already brought lunch for her," your friend says with a knowing grin. she ushers the rest of the medical staff out of the office, closing the door behind her with a telltale click.

"you can come out from under the desk now," dongmin says, and despite the situation, he finds it adorable that in the case of a bee swarm, your first instinct had been to hide underneath a desk.

"i was going to," you grumble, slinking out from your hiding spot and dusting off invisible dust from your pants. "what were you thinking, bringing flowers with bees in them?"

dongmin blushes, tilting his head as he tries to look anywhere but where you were. "i wanted to apologize to you. in my defense, i kinda always thought bees were made up. i mean, they're so fat! there's no way they should be able to fly. that directly violates like every law of aviation in the world."

your eyebrow quirks upward as you look at the ice cream and lunch he had set down on your desk in his bee-induced panic. "i can't believe you're quoting the bee movie at me right now."

"i can't believe you know i'm quoting the bee movie. i should've known the love of my life was an internet connoiseur," dongmin says with a sigh, examining the bee stings on his arm. how did these bees even manage to crawl underneath the sleeves of his shirt?

"excuse me?" you bark, hands on your hips. "did you just call me the love of your life? when you couldn't even remember who i was like yesterday?"

"okay, wait. you don't understand. first, i need you to help me out by getting some ointment on these stings because they're starting to burn and i don't know if that's so normal. and then, i'll explain everything, trust me."

you reluctantly reach back into a cabinet that reads 'insect stings' and grab the kit for bee stings, pulling a cream out of it, beckoning dongmin to come closer so that you could treat it.

"do you remember what happened that night? or those two nights, i guess?" you ask softly, eyes trained on dongmin's arm so that you don't have to look him in the eyes and he nods.

"i remember. well, as much as i can, anyway. i was blackout drunk both times. and from what i remember, you weren't exactly sober either, so i don't know how you remember me but trust me, whatever you think about me is not true. i was - i was so down bad that my friends had to make a 'no y/n' jar!" dongmin yelps the last part when your hand on his arm presses a little too hard.

"i'm sorry! sorry!" you gasp, immediately leaning over to blow cool air on the place you'd accidentally put too much pressure. "what do you mean by a no 'no y/n' jar though? i thought you didn't remember my name."

"i didn't! and it killed me! i don't remember exactly what happened those nights but i remember how much i liked you. i remember thinking that i'd never meet a girl like you in my life. it still frustrates me that i lost your number - although, i do remember the part where you smacked me over the head the second time that we met. i think i suffered permanent brain damage from that.

"but i remember glimpses of that night. like that red dress you were wearing and how much you were rambling about stars. you were giving me an in-depth explanation about how black holes work and something about how rockets look like they're stuck in time in black holes. not the point. but the point is that i genuinely fell in love with you that first night we met.

"i've got this horrid habit though, when i get drunk - i become either super scared of water, or super infatuated with it. it's honestly a coin-toss. so imagine my feeling the next morning when i wake up with a dissolved piece of paper in my pocket that's supposed to have your number on it, semi-wet clothes, and a raging migraine.

"i thought i met the love of my life and i couldn't even remember her name, number, or even her face. it drove me and my friends absolutely nuts. me because i didn't know how to find you when i couldn't remember anything. my friends went insane because i would talk about you so much that they bought me those swear jars for every time i mentioned you.

"of course, i didn't know your name so you were just 'the love of my life' or 'girl in the red dress' but i think i dumped at least 300,000 won in those jars by the end of the semester. and then as if the universe was out to make my life living hell, we met again and i was shitfaced again. i swore to never touch a 4lokos after that, if that's any level of redemption.

"anyway. i brought you flowers and all this stuff because i wanted to tell you that - that i've liked you for a lot longer than even i've known! i remember most of the conversations that we had, even if i couldn't remember exactly who you were. when i saw you at the hospital, i genuinely thought i was falling in love at first sight. but i guess, that's kinda not true. cause that would be my third time falling in love at first sight."

"why, though? three times? i mean, i don't think i'm ugly or anything but three times? yeah, i mean i guess i kinda also had a thing for you after those two nights. god. i wish i remembered what we talked about for us to get this attached," you say, mumbling the last part. dongmin turns to you somewhat confused, watching you as you open up the bento box he'd bought you.

"you don't remember what we talked about? besides the black holes and stuff?"

"nope. but i've also got a horrible reputation amongst my friends for how much i talked about you. the worst part is that i remembered you but not what we talked about. it was so stupid because no one believed me that han dongmin, yonsei's point guard was the guy i'd had my heart for the past year." you instinctively smile the moment you take a bite of the food and even though it's so small, dongmin's heart swells with pride.

"why didn't you ever come up to me? i mean, this whole year of pining could've been avoided if you'd talked to me," dongmin says, accepting the ice cream bar you handed him. how the hell did you know that was his favorite ice cream?

"i gave you my number once, and i kissed you twice. i figured you were just ghosting me at some point if you weren't going to reach out to me. and besides, nursing really picked up right after basketball season so...i kinda just ended up torturing my friends for the past year," you say, somewhat sheepishly, but dongmin is barely even listening anymore.

after all, how many people can say that they fell in love at first sight with the same person three times?

"well. we're here now. will you go out with me? i promise i won't even touch a 4lokos!"

"deal. as long as you promise to tell me everything we talked about that night. i still can't tell why i fell so hard for you that i chased you down a basketball court in front of your whole team."

"my stellar looks? my killer smile? my stupidly handsome personality? my superb basketball skills?"

"try your stupid attraction to water molecules."

"i have a feeling i shouldn't have told you about that."

+++

freshman year, spring semester.

"really? you've never fallen in love before?" you ask incredulously. you and dongmin are sitting on the balcony of some random friend who decided to throw a party, feet dangling over the edges in between the bars.

"nah. i don't think so," dongmin says, leaning backwards on his palms. "i don't think i've ever met someone who's ever made me feel like my entire heart is their's to do whatever they want to do with."

"then let's play this game," you say, clumsily pulling out your phone. "that one thing on new york times, where you fall in love with someone within 36 questions."

"why? you want me to fall in love with you?" dongmin says, leaning over with a cheeky smile. you push him playfully, focused on trying to pull up the questions list.

"you'd do that whether i told you to or not," you fire back. "and besides, i think i'm a fantastic kisser. so you're probably already in love."

"you're right," dongmin says with a sigh. "i think i am."

freshman year, fall semester.

"question 36. i can't believe we never finished all the questions last time," you say. this time the two of you are sitting so close, dongmin can still taste the watermelon chapstick you're wearing. at this point though, dongmin might as well be the one wearing it.

"to be fair, last time i think we were otherwise preoccupied."

"get your mind out of the gutter!"

"i was talking about how many times you kept getting distracted by the dog."

"anyway. we're on question 36; are you in love with me yet?"

"i should be asking you that. i've been in love."

"han dongmin! i thought you weren't the superstitious type?"

"i'll be whatever you want me to be."

[makethatelevenrings]

Reports and Renewal // S. Riley x f!reader

A/N: hiiiii consider this a 5k follower celebration!!! thank you!!! wtf!!! I am SLAMMED with life and work right now. I'm about to post this and go study some more but HI I APPRECIATE YOU ALL SO MUCH.

I will hopefully be able to do more of a celebration/interactive follower thing once I absolutely dominate this test. Bc I will. (Manifesting!!) warnings: mentions of injuries (fractures, ligament tears) and fatigue, subtle misogyny, swearing but tbh if you're reading COD fanfics and are surprised by swearing...I can't help you

Two sharp raps against the wood of your door drew you away from the cursor blinking repeatedly and the slow creep of it across the page. It wasn’t your fault that it was taking you longer than usual. Only one of your hands was in commission right now thanks to a nasty fall during the last mission. The thought of the injury made your lips thin into a grimace as the sling on your shoulder dug into the tender skin there. A fractured radius and a torn ligament in your shoulder meant you would be stuck at a desk for about two months.

You shuffled the papers back into the manila folder and cleared your throat before calling out a brusque, “come in.”

While you were expecting someone to come in and add more to the growing piles of reports that you needed to type out. Since you weren’t able to be in the field, everyone on your team assumed that you would gladly take on their grunt work.

The massive form of Lieutenant Riley filled the doorframe and you instinctively glanced at his hands for some files, relieved to see something other than those fucking folders. But your brow raised as he stepped into your office and brandished what he held in his gloved hands.

“They gave me an extra sandwich by accident,” he said in lieu of an explanation. “Cook thinks I need to eat the whole fuckin’ Mess. Figured you’d need t’eat something since you weren’t there.”

You spared a glance at the clock on your computer and let out a noncommittal hum. Huh. Guess you were so focused on getting through all this work that you missed dinner call. That sparked your body into making you aware of the stiffness of your joints. You sat back against your chair, a small groan escaping you as your spine stretched and popped.

“Yeah, thanks.” You gestured with your uninjured hand for him to sit across from you. The lieutenant eased himself down into the small wooden desk chair and grimaced at the creak it emitted as it strained under his mass. He leaned forward and placed the sandwich on top of the file you had been working on before sitting back, eyeing the pile that had amassed in the corner of your desk.

“These all yours?” he grunted. You huffed out a laugh that turned into a triumphant cry when you successfully got the sandwich unwrapped.

“Clearly not considering I’m the only asshole around here who finishes their shit on time. Apparently desk duty means being the paperwork lackey. I’m surprised you haven’t caught on and brought me something to type up.”

His dark eyes studied the pile of papers and then he picked them up, thumbing through the paperwork. You didn’t worry about him looking at it. He was of equal rank as you and, while you weren’t 141, you operated in similar circles and collaborated on missions enough to know that he was a cold bastard, but he wouldn’t jeopardize anything.

“Any of these my guys?”

“Nah, MacTavish and Garrick would never.” You took a bite of the dry sandwich and nearly moaned. It was boring and plain and tasted a bit like sawdust, but you were starving. Simon silently nudged your water bottle closer to you and you nodded in thanks. He snapped the files close and set them back on the edge of the desk, the corner teetering off the side and nearly tipping over under the weight.

“Arm’s alright?” Ever the conscientious leader. The constant ache of your torn ligament and broken bone was frustrating, but it was a nice reminder that you were alive. The fall had been from a warehouse walkway when an assailant tossed his empty gun and instead went for a tackle that sent you both over the edge. You twisted your body to make sure he took the brunt of the fall, but your arm hit the ground first after he did. The evac had been a nightmare and couldn’t get in for three hours. Three hours of brutal pain radiating with every move as you and your team held back an onslaught of fire until the 141 was sent to finish business.

“I live to see another day,” you said, with both a hint of humor and the tension of your tentative morality lining your words. You sat back in your chair and winced as your arm jostled against your side.

“You should be resting,” he chastised.

You scoffed. “You’re one to talk. Didn’t you come back to work three hours after your appendix burst?”

His mask hid his face, but you could see the slight crinkle of his eyes and that was enough to confirm that the bastard was smirking. You had seen him walk out of medical after they dug two bullets out of his shoulder. There was a reason why the Ghost was such a legend. He didn’t answer but instead pointed at your food and you dutifully took another bite.

“Your team is a bunch of dicks,” he finally said. You bristled at his words and immediately went to defend your men, but he simply raised a hand to stop any arguments. That just made your skin prickle even more with indignation.

“Don’t get me wrong, they’re good at what they do. But you’re better. Price has asked about bringing you onto our team.”

“Pretty sure I’d slow you down,” you muttered. Yeah, your team had no qualms in dropping piles of paperwork on your desk, leaving their shit in the gym for you to clean up, and made a point of never inviting you out after work hours. But you didn’t join the military to become best buddies with everyone. You were good at your job, but you weren’t task force material. The 141 were the guys that went in when no one else could. You were the person they sent in when it was a mid-level threat.

“Top of your recruitment class, high marks in everything except in things we can easily train you on. Besides, we got some demolition nuts already. Don’t need a third one of you or Price will go gray by next year. You’re one of the best analysts and have prepared more missions than most. Price thinks you should join us.”

You took a sip of your water to jostle the dryness out of your throat and then screwed the cap back on. Your eyes caught his and you met his stare head on. The Ghost should scare you. He should make you avert your gaze and apologize for daring to look.

He had never made you feel that way. From the moment you were assigned to this base, to this unit, to this office, the Ghost had been distant but decently nice. You had seen him ream out privates for forgetting to tuck their pants into their boots before. Hell, you could hear him yelling at privates and cadets as they attempted the obstacle courses in the pouring rain while you were inside. But he had never raised his voice with you. 

Sure, he had been firm and even snapped once or twice, but he hadn’t yelled the way he had at the kid who tracked mud through the halls last week. Simon made him get a bucket and a brush and to scrub the floors by hand so the janitors wouldn’t have to clean up his mess.

“You’re an established team already. I would just throw off the dynamics.”

“Garrick and Soap already agree they want you in,” he retorted.

Maybe you had a concussion too. Your mind was fuzzy with the details when the 141 came to evac your team. The pain had started to make your brain go foggy when they breached the building. How did you get onto the heli? Surely you walked, right? But you can also remember someone shaking you. That hurt like a bitch. Your team hadn’t given a shit about you at that point when they were busy saving their own hides. 

“What do you think about me joining?” The words left you before you could reel them back. You wanted to know. You were terrified of the answer. He had given you this hope, but was he cruel enough to take it away? Was this the Ghost toying with you? You wished you could see his face.

He merely stood and grabbed the stack of files from your desk, nodded curtly, and exited your office without another word. You waited until the door shut behind him before you let out a long, frustrated breath.

“That motherfucker,” you swore under your breath. Fucking hell, your shoulder ached. Your head ached too. You let it fall against the cool wood of your desk and shut your eyes in an attempt to ward off the exhaustion, pain, and embarrassment that now burned its way through your chest.

Might as well get this goddamn fucking report done.

You sat back up, pushed it all aside, compartmentalized, breathed. You opened the folder and began to peck at the keyboard once more.

Once it was done and sent to the appropriate COs and channels, you grabbed your bag and made your way down the hall towards the Mess. You were almost out of the office quadrant when a gruff voice called your name. Captain Price exited his office and extended his hand, luckily the opposite of your uninjured one so it wasn’t an awkward shake.

“Got your transfer paperwork drawn up and ready, if you want to sign it before you head out. Get you over to our team faster. I’ve heard great things from your CO and I’ve seen the work you’ve done in the field. It’ll be nice having someone more level headed than those muppets.” He paused and an almost pained look took over his face. “How likely are you to accidentally set off an explosive just for shits and giggles?”

You stifled a laugh and followed him into his office so you could sign those papers.

“Simon has told me what he’s seen during your training. You’ll be a great asset to have on the 141,” Price continued once you signed your name without hesitation. You paused once his words sunk in and looked up at your new boss.

“Ghost has talked about me?”

“Christ, I think he might be ready to make some fucking t-shirts with your face on it. Thought he damn near ripped the spines out of those boys who had you doing their reports. Don’t tell him I told you that. He’d take a right fucking piss out of me.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, sir,” you assured.

“Right, dismissed then. Be here at 0700 tomorrow. I don’t give a shit if you’re on IR, we’ll find something for you that isn’t pecking the keys until your eyes fall out from staring at that screen.” You nodded and didn’t even try to fight the smile that crept onto your face. It lingered on your face, right next to the phantom touch of the Ghost’s gloves when he grasped your face the moment they found you in that warehouse.

[gynandromorph]

god this shit took forever to sketch. another NofNA emulation comic. it reminds me of the midterms in secretary, for obvious reasons, but Legend is sort of an inverse secretary situation, where she is exceptional at fighting, but wants to write.

let me see what i can remember...

PS, the blue-eyed black lemur, has been friends with Legend since their mutual first season at college, as mentioned above her reference sketch... they probably became more friendly after being paired up to peer edit each others' work. PS has since graduated from college and works as a markscraft. Legend frequently commissions PS to scribe for her, not only because they are friends, but because PS is one of the few markscrafts in the area who isn't a rodent. many primates go into law or medicine. mainly Legend commissions notetaking in classes -- she is too insecure to share her stories. PS has a more relaxed, informal personality, and i tried to get that across -- i think it's relevant to why she decided to become a markscraft instead of pursuing more intense study. still, i also tried to get across that they are good friends, not just scribe and customer, particularly with the amount of touching that PS does. the impulse to touch and groom is probably innate for her as a primate. there isn't as much information about her species, but in ring-tailed lemurs, lemurs usually only groom based on the strongest bonds, rather than more communal aggregate grooming as a sort of social currency. i honestly don't know what PS would need to note during finals, but i think Legend just Wanted her there anyway.

the bird, DL, fighting the squirrel, GG, is a grey shrike. i imagine him as an average student in the middle of his education, but i think he is in the class for combat purposes, because pressure point manipulation can be incredibly powerful, more so if from a less expected species like a bird.

mr. deciding is a much more serious, no-nonsense teacher, possibly due to his specialty. when you're teaching students how to explode a kidney with a handshake, you probably just play it safe and try to put the fear of god into them before any kidneys get exploded. i wanted this class to have a much heavier emphasis on safety of the participants than the class in secretary, with a more focused goal than "who can beat the shit out of each other better." i think the goal of fighting to show off knowledge here is still Fucking Insane, but it's just. their culture, i guess. you can technically "move" your pressure points, so being able to defend yourself by utilizing this knowledge can also show off what you've retained. the mouse next to him is a proctor, who is an extra teacher brought in to judge and often write for another teacher, but primarily as a peacekeeper and bouncer. in classes where a student can theoretically totally disable a teacher by just touching them once, the precaution is seen as necessary. the mouse is probably a combat-oriented point invocation instructor.

the mandrill, MK, is a first-season or first-year student -- i assume that one class, from midterms to finals, is a season, as secretary seems to start near autumn. midterms have snow, and finals are during early spring. anyway, that's tangential. i think he's very new to the educational system. i pictured him as a medical student. in his fighting style, i made him more defensive; he doesn't really know nearly as much about attacking an opponent in a fight. he does think at least about his opponent's most immediate reactions, but doesn't have enough experience with fighting to think ahead to the degree that Legend does. you can see him make the same mistake that Legend did against Machinations, which disables his non-dominant hand. needless to say, he will probably always be aware of headbutt proximity now. he attempts to use two factures in the fight within a style meant to evoke debilitating vertigo by manipulating the connection between the occular, vestibular, and proprioceptive systems. it's obvious that he created the style from his medical classes. it is fairly empty as far as styles go. interrupted facture: nystagmus, which causes the world to spin around the opponent by involuntarily twitching the eyes back and forth. second facture: strabismus, which misaligns the pupils, primarily impeding aim. denied by Legend because a honey badger does not rely on vision or a vestibular system as much as a primate does -- not something he really considered when making the style. factures that never ended up being used: pursuit, which forces the target to follow a spinning image of themselves instead of looking where they should; and mask's lasting, which forcibly initiates saccadic masking, suppressing the intake of new visual information altogether.

the large bird is a bateleur. the mouse is just a regular house mouse. the lizard is an ornate sandveld lizard. the opponent of the lizard is a common mole-rat, also called an african mole-rat (even though most species of mole-rats live in africa). the monkey god i'm not super sure but i believe it's just a vervet monkey. the other mouse is also a common house mouse.

GG is a second-year student, which is the last year for a rodent. i think she's been kind of aimless -- she thinks incredibly fast as a squirrel, and finds solving problems in the moment to be a much more successful endeavor than trying to plan ahead. she doesn't worry about the future and doesn't ruminate on the past much. she's aware that she isn't the best ever and doesn't apply herself as much as others, but it also doesn't particularly bother her. kind of ironic, given the aesop she slops onto Legend after the fight. i imagine that she will eventually choose the name Serendipity. i tried to write her lack of foresight, but compensatory quick thinking in both fights. like the shrike, GG is a combat-oriented student. the style she briefly introduces at the beginning is called fanciful flower's delightful blight. it is based on the deadly nightshade flower and its berries -- which are toxic, obviously, and a hallucinogenic. squirrels flick their tails for many reasons, and the most common reason is simply a default flicking to attract predators. their tails are designed to "deglove" easily; if a predator lunges for their tail, which is the moving part of them, the skin and fur will tear off, and the squirrel can escape. delightful blight utilizes the attention-grabbing flicking of the squirrel's tail as a nightshade plant to induce a trance-like state. the berries represent temptations so much more pleasing than what you ought to focus on. a nice berry and a flower to smell are so much nicer than struggling in a fight. even when you resist them, they linger in your mind, and "plant seeds" when the berry falls as self-restraint is worn down over repeated abstinence from the temptation. factures induce hallucinations and nausea. she primarily uses the base rodent style to fight Legend here, but also uses base squirrel style twists, which include more acrobatics, backflipping, and contortions.

the two things that really catch Legend off-guard use limbs that she doesn't have, and most opponents don't have -- elbows long enough to use defensively, and a long, rope-like tail. she is otherwise supposed to be fairly adept at analyzing what an opponent will do, usually a few steps ahead, related to her ability to fabricate narratives quickly. you can see her also come up with a lie for kicking GG fairly quickly... she was going to say the impulse was in her legs because she was trying to move away from GG's strike.

anyway if any part of this fight is like... unfathomable i can probably explain. i've already been typing for way too long, lmfao

[woah-were-halfway-there]

The Makeup

aka, The Fight: Pt. 3

a/n: alrightyyyy here's the last part of this bit of the series. i think after this i'll go back to writing the scare when little man is born and mia becoming a big sister if y'all are still wanting to read that :)

word count: 9.3k

“You’re sure you’re ok?” Lexie asked from the other end of the phone. “Do you want me to come to Toronto this weekend? We can do something fun. Get you out of Mitch’s condo and do something other than work.”

“Lexie, I’m fine,” Carson told her best friend while nodding a quick thanks to the Starbucks barista who handed her the drink she ordered. It was nearing the end of her lunch break at work, and this was her last stop before returning to the office. “You’re in Chicago, babe. You don’t have to come all the way here for me.”

“Carson, you’re not fine, so don’t even try to lie to me about it.”

Carson sighed and tried to keep her composure because she didn’t have it in her to cry again.

“I’m trying to be fine, Lex.”

It’d been 13 days since Carson and Auston's fight after she found out he’d been charged and tried keeping it from her. That also meant Carson had been staying with Mitch and Steph for 13 days, and it’d been 13 days since she last spoke to Auston.

Following the fight with Auston, Carson missed a couple of work days as her depression about the situation made her feel like she couldn’t get out of bed. By the end of the work week, she returned to the office only briefly but decided to take an impulse trip to Vancouver to see her dad and sister, Mya and get out of Toronto for a little bit as she navigated her feelings.

After returning from Vancouver three days later, things went back to normal for Carson. Well, as normal as they could.

She went back to work, all while acting like nothing was out of the ordinary and continued staying in the spare bedroom at Mitch and Steph’s place. But she still hadn’t talked to Auston about anything because she didn’t know how.

Carson’s friends and colleagues at work noticed something was up. Gone was the friendly, bubbly girl they came to know and loved having as a new addition to the office, as she became a much quieter and mopey version of herself. To them, it was apparent something had happened, but they didn’t want to overstep if she didn’t want to talk about it.

Two people in that office knew what was happening. Max and Tara worked directly with Carson on the same projects, and in the short month and a half Carson had been working there, she immediately clicked with them. They knew all about Carson’s relationship with Auston, having even met him in a non-work setting when the three of them went out for drinks, and he chatted with them for a little bit before driving himself and Carson home. They knew how absolutely in love Carson and Auston were with each other and how this fight affected Carson.

Max and Tara were Carson’s rock in the office, and despite feeling her chest get heavy while talking on the phone with Lexie, she knew they’d help her get through the rest of the day.

“I know you are, babe,” Lexie spoke softly and sighed, bringing Carson back to reality. “I’m just worried about you. And I miss my best friend.”

“I know, and I appreciate you,” Carson told her honestly. “I miss you too, so freaking much. But I don’t want you to come here while I’m like this. I know you’ve seen me in a worse state, but I’m just trying to decide what I want to do about everything with Auston. This is fucking hard.”

“I still want to give Auston a piece of my mind, but for your sake, I won’t. At least not yet. Have you thought about reaching out to him so you can talk?”

“Of course I have. I miss him, Lex—more than I can explain. I miss him, our conversations, our routine, talking with his family, and the feeling of safety I had being with him. But whenever I think about any of that, I think about how he kept such a big thing from me, and it hurts. I almost cracked and told him I was at the game last week, but I knew he’d want to talk afterwards, and I chickened myself out.”

“I understand,” Lexie sighed again. “But Carse, I’m going to give it to you straight here, okay? If you don’t want to fix things, let Auston know. You also gotta let him know if you want to figure things out. It’s been two weeks, babe. As mad as I am at him for hurting you, I know this entire situation is killing him, too, and I really think he deserves to know where you stand.”

Carson took a moment to respond but slowly nodded her head as she entered the front doors of her office building.

“You’re right,” she agreed. “He’s given me space and been patient. I feel like I’ve been stringing him along, making him wait so long and in the dark. God, I just wish none of this happened.”

“I know, it sucks. But you’ll figure it out, babe. You always do.”

“Thanks, Lexie,” Carson responded and took a deep breath. “I plan on figuring it out soon because I’m over feeling like this. But anyway, I’m almost back in the office, so I've got to go. Love you. I’ll text you tonight.”

“Love you too, girly,” Lexie said. “Keep your head up, and I’ll talk to you later. Bye!”

“Bye!”

Just as Carson hung up her phone and slid it back into her bag, the elevator door opened, and she quickly scanned her pass so she could be taken up to her office floor.

Once she was back at work, Carson was greeted by her coworkers as she passed them and headed toward her office. After she set her bag and iced coffee on the desk, her computer lit up and showed the time. She still had 20 minutes before her lunch was officially over, so she decided that was enough time to eat the last bit of food she had in the fridge.

Max and Tara were still in the breakroom when Carson entered, and she couldn’t help but smile at how it was just the three of them there.

“Carson!” Max greeted her excitedly and waved her over. “You have good fashion taste. Tell me what you think of this sweater. Tara thinks it’s too extra.”

“Let me see,” Carson replied as she grabbed her container of strawberries and joined the other two at the table. Once she was sitting, Max handed her his phone, showing a tie-dye sweater from a website he was looking at. “I like it. Auston has a similar one-.”

Carson immediately cut herself off and shook her head, taken back by her comment. In the last two weeks, she’d only mentioned Auston when talking about what happened. She hadn’t mentioned him in general conversation like she always did before their argument, which didn’t go unnoticed by Max and Tara as they sent each other knowing glances, and Max slowly took his phone back from Carson.

“Well, I doubt something like that would look as good on me as it does on Auston,” he said. “He looks fine in just about anything.”

“Oh, would you stop talking about her man like that? Go find your own to thirst over,” Tara scolded before glancing sideways at Carson and noticing she wasn’t reacting to what they were saying. “Speaking of Auston…”

“Hmm?” Carson hummed, zoning back in on what they were saying.

“Auston, babe,” Max spoke bluntly but softened his voice when Carson looked at him sadly. “Still nothing, huh?”

“No, we haven’t talked,” Carson replied, then stared down at her strawberries, suddenly losing her appetite.

Max and Tara looked at each other again and sighed, knowing full well the toll this was taking on their friend.

“I see you put your necklace back on,” Tara said, nodding to the designer white gold chain around Carson’s neck. “That was a gift from Auston, right?”

“Yeah, it was,” Carson explained as she gently brushed her fingers against the two bands that linked together in the middle, making her love necklace. “He got it for me when I graduated in June. I’d only ever taken it off to have it cleaned before I took it off after our fight. Not having it on felt weird, so I dug it out of my bag to wear it again.”

“I need a man who gifts me, Cartier,” Max tsked, hoping to ease the mood, but regretted it when Carson remained silent. “Carson, honey, is there anything we can do to help?”

“We hate seeing you like this,” Tara added, leaning over to squeeze Carson’s hand. Max quickly joined and placed his hand on top of both of them.

Carson relaxed at their gesture and smiled.

“Sorry, guys,” she responded and took a breath. “Unfortunately, I don’t think much can make me feel better until I talk to him.”

“Understandable,” Max told her with a soft smile. “But also don’t be hard on yourself for taking the time you need to figure out what you want to do.”

“Exactly,” Tara agreed. “If Auston were remotely the type of guy he’s always seemed to be to us, he’d be okay with you taking your time regardless of how he’s feeling.”

“You two always know what to say to make me feel better,” Carson smiled and squeezed both of their hands. “Thank you.”

“We got you,” Max stated.

“Always,” said Tara, patting Carson’s hand before pulling away. “We’ll let you eat your strawberries in peace.”

“OK, guys, I’ll see you out there.”

“And you better actually eat them, or we’ll have issues,” Max threatened as he pushed in his chair and sent Carson a slight glare before following after Tara.

Carson just shook her head as she watched them go, then glanced down at her strawberries again before picking one up and popping it into her mouth.

About 10 minutes later, Carson’s lunchtime was almost over. She stood up from the table and went over to the sink to rinse out her now empty container before heading back to her desk to prep for the remainder of the work day. However, just as she was about to exit the breakroom, she almost ran right into someone.

“I’m sorry,” Carson stammered as she stepped back and looked up to make eye contact with Spencer, another of her coworkers.

“It’s quite alright,” Spencer replied and smiled charmingly. “How are you, Carson?”

“Oh, uh, I’m alright, thanks. How was your weekend?”

“It was good, pretty uneventful.”

Spencer was nice. He had been nothing but friendly toward Carson since she started working in the office, but something just put her off about him. Spencer’s condo wasn’t far from the one she shared with Auston, and for a reason, Carson didn’t understand; he drove to work almost every day and always offered her a ride. Their office was located downtown. Therefore, driving wasn’t always necessary, but Carson would’ve been lying if she didn’t appreciate those rides on days she was running late or the weather was bad.

However, something still rubbed her wrong with him. Spencer was charismatic, meaning he was very good at conversing. He had a way with words and could chat with anyone about anything. But, he also made many comments that had Carson pausing, feeling as though he was hitting on her, which she’d always responded to, making it known she was in a relationship.

Spencer knew she was in a relationship, but there were still times he tested those boundaries, and Carson hated it. She didn’t think this would be one of those times.

“That’s nice,” Carson told him with a smile and internally hoped the conversation would end there. “Anyways, I should probably get back to my desk.”

Carson nodded, and Spencer did the same back, but before she could walk around him, he spoke up again.

“Wait, Carson, before you go, I was hoping I could ask you something.”

“Oh, sure, of course. What’s up?”

“Are you free to get drinks with me today after work?” He asked, making Carson go stiff.

“As colleagues?” Carson hesitantly asked, but she knew better. She was sure Spencer’s intentions weren’t just friendly, but that was a boundary she needed to set.

“I was thinking it could be more like a date if you’re interested.”

“Spencer, no. I have a boyfriend. I’m not interested in you like that at all. I’m sorry.”

Spencer’s entire demeanour changed at that.

“I see,” he said and adjusted his posture, looking slightly more intimidating. “I thought you and the hockey player broke up.”

“I- no, we’re still in a relationship,” Carson explained, despite feeling a little unsure. She and Auston were still together, right?

“You stopped mentioning him, and I noticed you turned the pictures of the two of you on your desk around, so I figured you called it quits.”

There was something about his tone that Carson didn’t like. Maybe it was ignorance. Perhaps it was arrogance. Either way, though, it pissed her off.

“We didn’t break up,” Carson confirmed out loud, mainly to reassure herself. “Things are… rough right now. But we’re still together.”

Spencer scoffed.

“I doubt this will be the only time he hurts you, Carson. Maybe you’re just too naive to see that.”

“And maybe you’re just a dick who made an assumption and then got his ego hurt by a girl who is not and will never be interested in him.”

Spencer blinked, surprised at how she snapped at him, but didn’t say anything.

“This conversation is over,” Carson continued, seething. “But before I go, just know that if you attempt to corner me or anyone in the office like this again, I’ll ensure HR knows all about it.”

Nothing else could be said, so Carson stepped around him and wasn’t stopped.

Part of her wanted to cry as she beelined for her office. She was annoyed and frustrated with the situation, but one thought was prominent in everything she felt: her desire to talk to Auston.

The remainder of Carson’s work day went by quickly despite an anxious nagging feeling she had. Spencer kept his distance while Max and Tara promptly addressed the tension between him and Carson, but not in a way Spencer would hear it. Tara immediately messaged in the group chat with Max and Carson, asking what happened, which Carson filled them in on. She ended the conversation by admitting that the ordeal with Spencer made her want to talk to Auston because she hated not knowing where they stood.

Carson then internally admitted that although she was still hurt and upset with Auston, she still loved him and wanted to be with him. But she didn’t know how to go about it. For all she knew, Auston thought she was overreacting and didn’t want to wait for her to come back around. Of course, she didn’t want to believe that could happen, but Carson’s brain could be so damn mean to her sometimes.

But that’s what she needed to remind herself. Her brain was just mean. There was no way for Carson to know the future of her and Auston’s relationship if she didn’t talk to him. It wasn’t fair to Auston or herself to make assumptions and let that scare her away without first talking to him about it.

Her mind was scrambled, so Max and Tara convinced her to leave the office early and have time to collect her thoughts in a place that wasn’t the office. Carson was hesitant to leave early, but she had completed everything she needed to do that day before her lunch break and got a head start on some other things despite feeling all jumbled. About an hour went by, and she was still on the fence about leaving, but that changed when Spencer went to the photocopier that directly viewed Carson’s office despite a different photocopier being closer to the break room and his office.

Carson went stiff when she saw him walk by and didn’t miss the way he looked into her office as he went. He said nothing, but Carson was not up for playing any of his petty little games. So, after sending a message to her supervisor explaining all the work she’d completed that day and asking if it was alright if she went home early, Carson wasted no time packing up her things and leaving the office once told it was okay to leave. She didn’t even look in Spencer’s direction as she stormed out of her office, only stopping to say bye to Max and Tara and waving at those she passed on her way out.

When Carson arrived at Mitch and Steph’s condo, it was quiet. She knew Steph had things to do that day, meaning her friend probably wasn’t home, but she wasn’t sure about Mitchy.

The Leafs played against St. Louis that night, so it was likely that her cousin was home having a pregame nap before he had to get ready to go to the arena. Carson glanced at her watch to see it was nearing three in the afternoon. Therefore, it’d be odd if Mitch wasn’t home, so she tried her best to be quiet as she took off her heels before heading to the guest room to put her work things in there and maybe watch a show. However, she didn’t make it far when a familiar brown lab entered the hallway and rushed toward her excitedly.

“Hi, Zeusy boy,” Carson quietly greeted the dog as she crouched to his level and scratched behind his ears. “Is your dad sleeping?”

“Nah, I’m right here,” Mitch said as he entered the hallway. He was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, and his hair was dishevelled, showing that he had been lying down.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Mitchy. Did I wake you up?”

“No, you’re good. I was just scrolling on my phone. You’re home early, though. Everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah,” Carson mumbled as she stood back up and smoothed her blouse. “I finished all of my work early and have a really good start on the stuff I have to do for the rest of the week. I just have a lot of stuff on my mind. I know I’m not in the office for the rest of the week now because my boss is away, but I didn’t want to be there anymore today. ”

“I see,” Mitchy responded, then narrowed his gaze at his cousin, knowing something was bothering her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Of course, she wanted to talk to her twin about everything bugging her, but Carson didn’t want to bother Mitch with her problems.

“No, no, it’s ok. You have to start getting ready soon anyway. I think I’m just going to curl up and watch a show. Have a chill night in.”

“Carson.”

The look Mitch gave her as he crossed his arms showed that he wasn’t impressed by her answer, which made Carson sigh.

“Fine,” she huffed. “Let me change into something comfy, and then I’ll tell you.”

Mitch smirked at her triumphantly before calling for Zeus to follow him to the living room, and Carson went to the guest room. A few minutes later, she emerged in the hallway again wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, then made her way to the living room and curled up on the couch next to her best friend.

Carson spent the next few minutes telling Mitch what happened with Spencer at the office, including the back story of how he’d been flirty before despite knowing she was in a relationship. She then explained what Spencer said after she turned him down and what was on her mind afterwards.

“First off, fuck that guy,” Mitch said once Carson finished her spiel.

“I know, he sucks,” Carson agreed, then took a sip of the water bottle Mitch had grabbed for her.

“I’m glad you put him in his place, but it wouldn’t hurt to report him to HR or something, Carse.”

“I know, I’m going to tomorrow. I don’t want him to make anyone else in the office feel like I did today.”

“Good,” Mitchy replied, nodding his head, then stopping and glancing at his cousin again. “And you think you want to talk to Auston again now?”

Carson sighed.

“Yeah, I do. I miss him, Mitchy, and I need to know where we stand. It’s just frustrating because I still don’t know what I feel or what to do, but I know I need to talk to him. How is he? Is he good?”

“Matts? I mean, yeah, he’s alright. Same old now that the season has started. Not much else is going on at the moment. He asks about you a lot, though. Every day I see him, actually. He misses you too, Carse. I don’t want you to think he doesn’t. But, you gotta do what you think is best for you.”

“But I don’t know if what I want is what’s best for me,” Carson stressed, pushing her hair away from her face as she inhaled. “And that’s the thing. Can I trust Auston again after keeping such a big thing from me? I may have never known if the media didn’t get their hands on the information. Although part of me wishes I was as oblivious to the fact as I was two weeks ago, I still can’t believe it even happened and knowing that it did is a lot. But this is something I’d want to know. I just- how many other significant things hasn’t he told me? Is it too naive of me to want to think he wouldn’t keep something like this from me again?”

“It was extremely dumb for him not to tell you,” Mitch started. “It was even more ridiculous for him to do what he did, whether it was a drunken mistake or not. I will say, though, Auston seems to be learning from it. He’s trying, and that’s really all anyone can ask for. Of course, it doesn’t improve the situation, but he’s being cooperative. And I know one thing he really wants to fix is his relationship with you as he navigates moving forward from this. However, if you don’t think that’s best for you, you’ve gotta listen to that. I can’t see you tearing yourself up because of a relationship again, Carse. I’ve already made Auston clear of my feelings about the situation, and we’re okay now, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to say, ‘Yes, you two should figure things out and not break up.’ I love you and Auston together and am always rooting for you guys, but I’ll always care most about your happiness. You’re my best friend. And if you think Auston is who will still make you the happiest, you can’t let anyone make you think otherwise. If you can forgive him, great. But if not, I’ll still be in your corner and we’ll figure it out.”

Carson stayed silent for a moment, processing Mitch’s words. She inhaled deeply, reached up to wipe away a tear that broke free from her watering eyes, and then sniffled before looking back at her cousin.

“I wish I knew what to do, Mitchy. I wish I could go back to him and not be afraid he’d hurt me like this again. And I know I may have overreacted when all of this happened, but it was like being slapped in the face. I was blindsided, and now I feel like I’m in a hole. I don't know how to escape.”

“I know,” Mitch told her softly. “But I think you gotta do what you told me when we started this conversation, and that’s talk to Auston. You won’t know what you want regarding your relationship with him if you don’t.”

“You’re right,” Carson agreed. “I just have to build the courage to reach out to him. It should probably be soon, though, huh?”

“Carson, let me tell you it has been so pathetic seeing him mope over you,” Mitchy stated, making Carson cover her mouth, attempting to hide her chuckle. “Like good, he should know he fucked up, but Auston is so miserable because he misses you, and I can’t even tease him about it because the nice guy in me doesn’t want to make him feel worse.”

“Wow, how considerate of you,” Carson teased while Mitch nudged her with his shoulder. Carson pushed back, but soon enough, they stopped, and Carson leaned her head onto her cousin's shoulder. “Thanks for always looking out for me, Mitchy.”

“Gotta make sure my twin is always okay,” he responded, leaning his head against hers. “Like your mom used to say, it’s the two of us against the world.”

“It is. And I’m lucky to have you as my best friend backing me up every step of the way.”

“You really are stuck with me.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Carson chuckled, then sat up again so she could look at Mitch. “But, you need to start getting ready, or else you’ll be late.”

“Shit, you’re right,” Mitch stated, quickly getting off the couch to gather his things. “You’re coming to the game tonight, no?”

“I don’t think so, Mitchy. I’m going to watch from here with Zeus. I don’t want to be back there just yet.”

“OK, fair. You’re welcome to join us after the game, though. Steph will want you there. I can give you a heads up if Auston comes out or not, too.”

“I appreciate it, but I’m ok,” Carson insisted. “I think I’m going to watch the game from here and think about what to do.”

“Alright. Promise to update me if anything happens or you decide you do want to come out?”

“I promise. Now go get ready.”

Mitch was ready and out of the condo within half an hour. Once he was gone, Carson put on Netflix and watched an episode of her show with Zeus before Steph got home. She was in a rush, too, having to get ready since she was going to the game that night with some of the other girlfriends. She tried multiple times to convince Carson to join her, but Carson was adamant about having an evening to herself, which Steph respected.

“I know you don’t want to come, but you’re sure there’s nothing I can do before I leave?” Steph asked as she battled with zipping up one of the tall boots she decided to wear that evening.

“I’m sure, Steph. You and Mitch have done enough for me,” Carson told her. “Go have fun tonight.”

“I’d have more fun if you came with me,” the blonde pouted, making Carson roll her eyes and smile at the dramatics. “But it’s fine, I’m fine. I’m sure Zeusy will love having you to hang out with.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Carson then began scratching behind Zeus’ ears, which earned her a content noise from the chocolate lab before Steph spoke again.

“Ok. I’m going. You know to help yourself to any food or whatever, but please text me if you need anything or change your mind about coming.”

“You know I will,” Carson told her honestly. “I’ll watch from here and see you when you’re back tonight.”

“Ok, ok, I won’t press you anymore,” Steph said as she came over to give Zeus some love before leaving. “Alright, actually going now. Love ya!”

“Love ya too, have fun!”

And with that, it was just Zeus and Carson watching another episode of her show before it was game time.

Soon enough, the game started, and Carson hated that seeing Auston on the TV screen was still enough to feel a pang in her chest, but there was no arguing, just how much she missed him. As the game went on, Carson found herself paying more attention to Auston whenever the camera showed him than she did to the actual game, and before she knew it, the game was over.

The Leafs lost to the Blues, but Carson kept the channel on as post-game media started. She watched Will and Freddie do interviews and then felt her breath hitch when Auston came on the screen again. Hearing his voice answer questions about the game really hit her. It’d been almost two weeks since she last heard it, yet it still soothed her. She watched the entire interview, noticing how, along with the silver chain Auston wore around his neck, he was also wearing the Cartier love necklace that matched the one she wore. Both pieces of jewelry peaked out from Auston’s shirt, but when reporters kept bombarding him with questions, Carson noticed how he reached up to fiddle with the love necklace, gently rubbing his thumb over the two circles that linked in the middle.

It was then Carson decided she needed to talk to him as soon as possible. She wasn’t beating around the bush anymore; she knew they needed to speak, and there was no point in pushing it back then chickening out. But, as she waited to reach out to Auston, hoping he was home, her nerves returned, and she started convincing herself it wasn’t a good idea.

Carson’s heart pounded as she glanced at her phone again from where it lay between her and Zeus on the couch and debated what to do.

It was nearing 10:30pm. It had been over an hour since the game ended, and Carson knew Mitch and Steph wouldn’t return home immediately. Instead, they had plans to go out with some of the other guys and their girlfriends since the Leafs didn’t play for another few days. Mitch and Steoh invited Carson to join again, but she declined because she felt uncomfortable being the odd one out.

Carson didn’t know if Auston went with the group. There was a good chance that he did, and that was feeding into her debate about not calling him, but she wanted to. She needed to talk to him.

So, with a deep breath to calm her heart, Carson unlocked her phone. She opened the messages app and didn’t need to scroll to find her conversation with her boyfriend.

Carson felt like the wind was knocked out of her when she saw Auston’s name with the red heart emoji beside it and the photo of them in Arizona that past summer set as his contact picture. That feeling didn’t go away as she glanced at the text thread between them.

Despite not properly talking for almost two full weeks, Auston still messaged her every one of those days since their fight, saying that he loved her, missed her, was sorry and hoped she had a good day. The day after their fight, he still tried calling in hopes that Carson would pick up, but during his talk with Mitch, he was reminded that his constant calling was a bit overwhelming for her as she navigated her feelings about the situation. So, Auston opted to send texts.

Carson didn’t read or respond to any of those texts when she received them, but she found comfort as she scrolled through and read each one at that moment. In the days following their argument, she didn’t know what to think or feel, but receiving those texts made her feel normal. They were part of her routine, and although it was hard for her not to read them or respond, Carson thought she couldn’t until she knew what she wanted to say. Auston continued to send those messages despite her ignoring them, showing that he still cared and was willing to be patient with her like he always had been for the entirety of their knowing each other.

This was why Carson decided it was her turn to be patient with him and hear him out in a calmer setting than the last conversation they had almost two weeks prior. So, with another deep breath, she tapped his name at the top of the screen and hit the call button when it popped up.

It didn’t even take two full rings for him to pick up.

“Carse?” Auston’s voice sounded through the phone, making Carson’s breath hitch again. God, she missed him so much.

“H-hey,” Carson stammered before pausing in an attempt to recollect herself. “How are you?”

“I, uhm, I’m okay,” he responded, sounding surprised and as if he was still processing that he was talking to her. “Busy with hockey stuff, same old. How are you?”

“I’ve been better, and I’m sure you are. I still can’t believe you’ve got that ‘A’ on your jersey now, Aus. You deserve it. I was so proud seeing it for the first time in person during the home opener.”

“You were at that game?”

Carson nodded, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Yeah,” she almost whispered. “Mitch and Steph were trying to convince me to go 'cause I was originally going to watch from their place, but I didn’t decide until the last minute to actually go. So, I bought a ticket and went alone.”

“I wish you had told me,” Auston told her softly, which pulled on her heartstrings. “I would’ve wanted to know that you were there.”

“I know, but I didn’t know how Auston. Just seeing you out there made me so happy but so sad at the same time.”

Auston sighed at that.

“Carson, please know how sorry I am. I’ve spent the last two weeks beating myself up so much over this, and not saying I don’t deserve it, but fuck. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too,” Carson admitted, deciding there was no need to hide her feelings from him.

“Is that why you called?” Auston asked, his voice a mix of unsureness and hopefulness.

“It is. I, um, I know it’s late, but are you home? Maybe I could come over, and we can talk.”

“Yes, please. I just got back. Please come home er-, I mean over. Do you want me to pick you up?”

“No, it’s okay,” Carson responded quickly, not wanting to be in such close proximity to him until she was at the condo. “Thank you, though.”

“Then, at the very least, let me order an Uber over here for you,” Auston suggested, not missing a beat.

“Auston, you don’t have to do that.”

“I insist. Please let me order it. I’d feel better if I could make sure you get here safely. Would they be picking you up from Mitch’s?”

“Ok,” Carson sighed in defeat. “And yes, it’s just Zeusy and me here.”

“Ok, perfect,” Auston said. “It says they’ll be there in five minutes. Is that too soon?”

“No, that’s great. I’ll put on my shoes and head downstairs.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

“Love y-,” Carson started but immediately cut herself off, then internally cursed herself because who was she kidding? Of course, she still loved him. “I’ll see you soon. Bye, Auston.”

Once she hung up the phone, Carson wasted no time getting off the couch and rushing to the front door to get her sneakers on.

“I’m sorry, Zeusy,” Carson muttered to the lab, who was rudely awoken from his slumber when she stood up but was still happy as he trailed after her. Zeus looked up at her expectantly, thinking he was going outside with her, and Carson felt terrible for leaving him behind, wasting no time to crouch down and pet him after her sneakers were on. “I know. I’m the worst for not taking you outside again, even though I did an hour ago. But how about I give you a treat? Will that make up for it?”

Zeus’ tail started wagging at that, so Carson quickly stood up straight again and ran into the kitchen to grab him a treat. Then, with one final pet goodbye, she rushed out the door.

As Carson waited for the elevator, she texted Mitch and Steph to tell them she was going over to Auston’s to talk because she knew they’d come back wondering where the hell she had gone otherwise. Both were quick to text back.

“Good luck, babe. Let me know how it goes,” read Steph’s message.

“Are you sure? Are you staying there? I’ll wait up so you can tell me what’s going on,” Mitch texted back, making Carson smile at the difference between the two messages. They both cared but in very different ways.

She messaged them each back, saying she’d keep them posted, then entered the elevator and went to the lobby. Upon seeing her reflection in the mirror that covered the elevator wall, Carson made an unimpressed noise. The thought of changing hadn’t even crossed her mind as she rushed out of Mitch’s condo, but she sure didn’t love that the first time she talked to Auston in person in two weeks, she’d be wearing an oversized hoodie and sweatpants. Carson quickly reached up to take her long brown hair out of the messy bun it was in and tried to make it look presentable, but then remembered Auston wouldn’t care about her looking like that. He’d seen her in similar outfits over the almost three years they’d been in a relationship.

Carson knew she didn’t need to impress him but still wished she looked a little better than she did.

Once the elevator reached ground level, Carson inhaled as she stepped off and entered the lobby. Her phone buzzed with a text, and she was half expecting it to be Mitch or Steph, but it was Auston letting her know the details about the car that was picking her up. Carson replied to his message this time and let him know she saw the car was waiting outside. Auston asked her to tell him when she was in the car and when she got to their condo so he knew everything was alright, and Carson promised she would.

When she entered the Uber waiting outside, the driver expressed his surprise after Carson confirmed they were picking up a rider named Auston.

“Not going to lie, I thought I was picking up Auston Matthews, the Leafs player, for a minute when I saw the name,” the driver explained, and Carson had to contain the smile she felt tugging at her lips.

“No, sorry, just me,” she responded, chuckling but not telling them she was indeed on her way to see the Auston Matthews.

“That’s alright, maybe another time,” the driver teased, then turned their focus back to the road as they drove.

It was a short drive. In all honesty, Carson had walked to and from the two condo buildings many times before, but with it being so late, she didn’t want to be out walking alone. She also knew that if she’d even mentioned the thought of walking, Auston would’ve shut the idea down immediately. The Uber driver didn’t ask questions about the short trip either and made small talk, ironically about the Leafs, since that was the first thing they and Carson had discussed.

A few minutes later, after thanking her driver and getting out of the car, Carson was standing outside the condo building that she began calling home a little over a month prior. Another wave of nervousness hit her, but she quickly shook it off as she entered the building.

She got into the building easily, still having her keys and fob to allow her access. The concierge at the front desk recognized her, nodding and smiling as she walked by and went straight for the elevator to take her to her and Auston’s floor.

Carson almost walked right into the condo out of force of habit once she arrived at the door. However, her nagging thoughts made her stop just before she could and opted to knock instead. It didn’t take long for Auston to open the door.

He looked good, really good. He was clad in a simple outfit, a black Raiders sweater and a pair of grey sweatpants that Carson always complimented on how good they made his butt look. His hair was a little damp still from his postgame shower, and a shadow of a beard was growing, showing it’d been some time since he last shaved. Carson stood there in silence momentarily, just taking in being in the presence of her boyfriend once again.

“Hey,” Auston spoke up, snapping Carson from her trance. She didn’t realize how tense she was until she felt herself relax just by being so close to him again.

“Hi,” Carson replied, her voice already cracking. Tears immediately pooled in her eyes, suddenly reminding her of all the emotions she’d felt since the last time she and Auston spoke.

“Oh, Carse.”

It didn’t require any thinking. The moment Auston saw those tears, he stepped towards Carson and pulled her into his embrace. The gesture felt so natural. Carson immediately melted into his touch and wrapped her arms around his middle in a tight embrace while instinctively hiding her face against his chest, letting the familiar scent of his favourite body wash surround her.

“I missed you,” she whispered after the two of them stood there holding each other for a moment.

“I’ve missed you more than I’ve ever missed anything in my life, Carson,” Auston replied, not missing a beat while tightening his squeeze around her. “I don’t want to open my eyes right now because what if I do and you’re not actually here? And this was just a fever dream?”

Carson couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her mouth as she shook her head, still pressed against his chest, and then finally moved back and looked at him. Still, neither of them unwrapped their arms from around the other.

“I’m here. And we need to talk, Auston.”

“I know, I know,” Auston spoke softly as he finally let go of Carson, but only to reach up so he could cup her cheeks and use his thumbs to wipe away her tears. “God, I’m so happy to see you. But, you’re right. Let’s go inside so we can talk.”

Carson nodded in agreement and let her arms fall from Auston’s waist to her sides again, but Auston was quick to reach down his right hand and link it with her left hand, squeezing it after Carson intertwined their fingers, then leading her into the condo.

Once inside, Carson glanced around after she took her shoes off and walked further inside, not sure what she was expecting. Not a thing was changed. The same fluffy grey throw blanket she bought was still on the couch except instead of it being draped over the side neatly, it was bunched up and tossed to the side, indicating Auston had been using it. Her gaze then drifted to the walls and nearby bookshelf, which still had the same pictures of her and Auston and others of them with their friends and families displayed. On the bookshelf was her collection of books and trinkets she adored and the TV showed the paused episode of The Office Auston must’ve been watching when she called.

Carson felt at home again for the first time in two weeks and it was a perfect feeling.

“Uhm, can I get you water or anything?” Auston asked after a moment of observing Carson look around their living room, not missing how a small smile tugged at her lips as she did so.

“I’m alright, thank you,” Carson replied as she shook her arms so the sleeves of her sweater would fall since she’d pushed them up in the Uber. The sweater was large on her and it showed in the way the sleeves covered most of her hands. She then began to fiddle with and rub the hem of the sleeve between her fingers, something she tended to do when she felt uneasy or anxious. Auston knew that and wished she wasn’t feeling such a way, but mostly wished she didn’t feel that way because of him.

“Of course. Should, uh, should we sit?”

“Yeah, let's.”

The two of them made their way to the couch and sat down next to each other. It was a comfortable distance, but there was still a noticeable space between them which felt a thousand times bigger to Auston. He hated it. If it were up to him Carson would be right next to him with her legs over his thighs, both cuddled under the throw blanket as she told him about her day and he played with her hair while listening. He was yearning but was brought back to reality when Carson spoke again.

“I think you should start.”

“R-right,” Auston stuttered, shaking his little daydream from his head but not being able to hide how lost in his thoughts he got momentarily. However, he knew exactly what he wanted to say, he’d been thinking about it for almost two weeks. “You’re right. And I’m just going to start with how sorry I am, Carse. I’m sorry for what I did in Arizona and how it affected someone because of my ignorance and stupid drunk actions. I’m sorry that when me and you last talked, I didn’t take ownership of how I messed up. I know that what I did wasn’t ok. I wish I could take it all back. And I’m sorry that during all of this, I hurt you. I should’ve been honest with you about the charge as soon as it happened. It’s not an excuse, but I was embarrassed and didn’t want you to be ashamed of me. I told my family I would tell you, which is why they didn’t say anything, but I was a coward. It’s not that I didn’t trust you whatsoever, Carson. I trust you with everything I have, I was just stupid and thought I could ignore what happened. That it wouldn’t matter and I could move on with life normally. I should’ve known better. I made a huge mistake and I’m learning from it. I know I’m better than this, but I want to learn from it so I can move forward properly and nothing like this ever happens again. I don’t expect you to fully forgive me right away either, but you make me a better person. I know I can learn a lesson and grow from this. But, I really want you by my side as I do, if you’re still willing.”

Carson was so tired of crying, but she couldn’t stop the tears flowing as she hung on to every word Auston said to her. This conversation was already so different from the last one they had. She could tell the toll everything was taking on him and knew the weight of it all was crushing. But, he was taking full responsibility, seemingly accepting that this all happened on his own accord.

“I’m proud of you, Auston,” Carson spoke softly as she wiped her tears away with the sleeves of her sweater. “I feel like I’m having a conversation with a completely different person than I did two weeks ago.”

Auston felt good hearing that. During their fight, Carson voiced that she didn’t feel like she was talking to the man she loved. That, in that moment, he didn’t feel like home anymore to her, which hit Auston hard because Carson would always say it didn’t matter where they were as long as they were together, because he was her home. Hearing her say that was what pushed him over the edge that night truly realizing how badly he fucked up, but it was too late. Carson was already heading out the door and Auston couldn’t stop her.

“It shows me that you are learning from this and that’s really good,” she continued. “You owe that to that woman you distressed. But also the team, the fans, your family and yourself.”

“I owe it to you, too.”

“I appreciate you saying that, but this isn’t about me. However, that does lead me to talk about us.”

Carson paused to take a breath, already feeling herself get emotional again, but was soon met by Auston gently linking their hands together and stroking his thumbs over her knuckles. When she didn’t pull away, Auston gave her hands a reassuring squeeze.

“When I found out you kept something so significant away from me, I was hurt,” Carson said. “I felt betrayed, but also shocked because I never ever thought I’d feel the way I did and you being the one that caused it. I felt everything we built together, was a lie. Our castle was crumbling down because it seemed like you couldn’t trust me and I wasn’t sure I could trust you to not keep important things from me again. It was devastating feeling that way about the man I love more than anything in this world. We’re partners, Auston. And you didn’t treat me like one doing that.”

“I know, and again, I am so sorry, Carson. I never wanted you to feel that way and I feel terrible for being the reason you did. I-I can’t blame you for leaving,” Auston’s voice trailed off at the end of his sentence as he felt the words getting stuck in his throat. “Watching you walk out that door was one of the worst nights of my life. You’re my rock and suddenly that was gone and it was all my fault. I hardly slept not knowing when or if you’d come back, but I had to keep hoping, praying that you would. Part of me convinced myself Mitch was going to tell me that you weren’t coming back ever and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he did. I was a mess, I still am. These last two weeks have been hell and I deserved it. And I’m not saying this to guilt you into making a decision now, but Carse, if you did want to leave and not come back to this, us, I need to know. The not knowing is killing me. I don’t want to lose you, but I need to know if I have.”

Carson inhaled deeply again.

“The thing about these last two weeks, with how upset and angry I was at myself and you and the situation, not once did I think I no longer wanted to be with you. I love you, Auston. I knew I didn’t want to break up, but I wasn’t sure if staying in a relationship with you was what would be best for me. I fell into a depressive hole myself. I never thought I’d feel that low because of you and I wasn’t sure if I could forgive and move on or if this would have me feeling I could never trust you again. I can’t let myself get this destroyed by the person who is supposed to be my partner again, not after my ex. But, Auston, you are not him. You never will be him and that’s why, even with the space we’ve had since our fight, I knew I’d be coming back to you. I love you too fucking much to not even try to work through this and move forward together. I don’t want you to think we’re over because of this.”

Auston didn’t realize just how many tears had welled in his eyes until he let out a relieved sigh and smiled, allowing a couple of those tears to break free and stream down his face.

“You have no idea how badly I needed to hear that,” he said and squeezed her hands again.

“You have no idea how badly I needed to get that off my chest and actually tell you,” she replied and let out a small laugh at how emotional they both were. “God, we’re such messes.”

“I’ll accept being the biggest mess ever to exist if it means you’ll be by my side as I clean myself up.”

“Well, I can tell you that I’m not going anywhere. I mean it, Auston. You haven’t lost me.”

“Thank, God,” Auston sighed, feeling like so much weight had been lifted off his chest. “We’re good?”

“We’re good,” Carson confirmed, smiling as Auston let go of her hands and then held his arms out. She was quick to launch herself into his embrace and hold on for dear life while he fell back onto the couch cushion and she laid on top of him, feeling the safest and most content she had in weeks. “I’m glad to be home.”

“I’m never going to give you a reason to feel like you have to leave home again, Carse. That’s a promise.” Auston declared as he kissed the top of her head and started playing with her hair. “I love you, Carson.”

“And I love you, Auston,” Carson replied as she moved her head from Auston’s chest so she could look at him.

The two lay there for a moment looking at each other as Auston continued playing with Carson’s hair, debating his next move. He couldn’t help the way his gaze drifted to her lips, missing the way they felt against him so badly. He wanted nothing more than to cup her cheek with his hand and close the small gap between them with the kiss he craved. However, even though Auston knew he and Carson were good, he also knew they weren’t back to normal. Things being normal again would take time and Auston was ok with that. It didn’t matter how much time it may take because he had his love back and he wasn’t going to take any chances with anything that could push her away again.

Much to Auston’s pleasant surprise, though, Carson was the one to delicately place her hand under his chin and tilt it up before crashing her lips against his in a sweet, intimate kiss.

As soon as their lips met, Auston deepened the kiss as he wrapped his arm around her and rolled them over so that Carson’s back would be on the couch and he was on top. He used one arm to hold himself up and keep most of his weight off of her while his other hand cupped her cheek and jaw to prevent the kiss from breaking, finally getting what he had spent the last two weeks yearning for.

After a few moments of kissing, they pulled away to look at each other and laugh at how out of breath they both were. But that didn’t stop Auston from leaning in and stealing one more kiss.

“Will you stay over tonight?” He asked softly, not wanting her to feel pressured if she wasn't ready to come back home fully yet. “It’s an off day tomorrow and Mitch mentioned you weren’t going into the office, we could go get your work stuff from his place in the morning then come back here and have a lazy day together. Only if you want to, of course.”

“I would love that,” Carson replied, then pecked his lips again. “Let me tell Mitch and Steph I won’t be back tonight first, then can we go to bed? I’m exhausted.”

“Of course, beb.”

After they untangled themselves from each other and Carson texted Mitch and Steph to say she was staying, she and Auston turned off the lights before heading to the bedroom together. Carson felt so good after changing into a pair of her pyjamas she grabbed them from the dresser and then crawled into her bed after a long, almost two weeks. The best part, though, was being back in that bed with Auston. He felt better too having Carson in his embrace again as he fought to stay awake, wanting to make sure she fell asleep first. Once she did, Auston let his tiredness take over him too and both he and Carson had one of the best sleeps of their lives, together again.

[xuhuihuis]

jasmine my love can you pls share some dom!jiwoong x sub!reader piss thoughts? can be dark and twisted or gross idc i need it all <3

TW | public humiliation, holding, name calling

Dom!jiwoong who would dress you up all pretty for the day, but make sure you have been drinking the water he has been giving you. After all, he just wants to make sure you are hydrated and healthy. All of this water is meant to be good for you, right? So he takes you out for a date in the city, but you are under one condition. No going to the bathroom. Sitting in the restaurant, doing everything you could to take your mind off of the slight pain in your stomach. Everything was fine until the waitress kept coming out with refills for your drink. Your eyes darted to Jiwoong in a panic, trying to get his help, but he just laughed.

“Drink up, Princess!” He said it with a smile on his face as your glass was filled once again. Just by the look on his face, he could tell that you were starting to need the bathroom so badly but he just sat there, not helping you at all. The meal couldn’t come fast enough, you thought; this was the only thing that would let you stop thinking about the pain in your lower stomach. 

Towards the end of the meal, you started to bounce in your chair as you started to become more desperate than before. Even giving him puppy eyes didn’t help. Thankfully, after you had the meal, you had no more glasses of water to try and fight through making the pain even more unbearable for you. As you started to leave the restaurant, Jiwoong saw you eyeing up the bathroom, but he immediately pulled you away, erupting a whimper from you. 

“Wait.” His voice almost snapped at you, putting a sense of fear into you. Jiwoong did know you liked it when he was this harsh, and if anything went wrong, he trusted you to say something to him. He had to guide you back to the car, as you were practically unable to walk at this point; the world around you was spinning at a million miles an hour. All that you were focused on was his figure in front of you leading the way.

“J-Jiwoong, I can’t hold it anymore." Your voice came out almost in a whimper as you looked at him for any help. Fuck. No. You had to go right now, and there was no other way to stop the urge. Luckily, no one else was around you in the empty car park. It was humiliating, but this is what he wanted—to be the one to humiliate his princess and make you cry. A silent cry fell from your lips as the warm piss trickled down your leg, biting on your lip hard, trying to keep your cries to a minimum. 

Oh, what a sight it was in front of him as he turned around. Jiwoong’s eyes darkened as he saw tears silently roll down your cheeks as the piss stream came to a stop. Now you were the one standing in the middle of an empty car park in a puddle of your own piss. The feeling of your wet panties stuck to your cunt made the situation that much more humiliating to be in. You were helpless,standing there looking at him like a lost puppy, hoping he would help you now. 

“Fuck, you are such a pretty girl for me, darling.”

i have so many more ideas that i could be here all day

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Green is the colour of jealousy

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

Requested by @maxsisly

Request gist: Fred and George get jealous because the reader is spending more time with her male friend. She comes home late one night and they’re mad. Pure smut and a bit of fluff.

A/N: Thank you for the request! Once again, I am truly sorry for not seeing it sooner. It was in the inbox section in the settings (which I never check). This took me a while and I really got sidetracked and rambled on some points. But no matter, it's ready and written.

T/W: Unprotected sex, Jealous and possessive twins, Degradation, Double penetration, Clit spanking, Aftercare

The twins had always learned to share.

Growing up in the Weasley clan meant handing down clothes and toys from the brothers who came before. So when the twins were born, they only had one of everything instead of one each. So they became pretty good at sharing.

Even after the twins met you, they shared. They both loved you and they knew that you loved them both. They had spent their whole life sharing, from toys to partners alike.

But that didn't mean they liked sharing with other people.

Over the past couple of weeks, your friend had been around more often. He was there when the twins finished work, he was on the phone to you during your spare time, he even seemed to be around when you went out on the town. He seemed to be everywhere.

You and Matthew had been friends since your first official job after Hogwarts so he had always been a constant in your life. He knew you were dating twins and supported you wholeheartedly, something you found refreshing since others looked at you oddly. He knew the twins and was a regular in the shop, so the twins somewhat knew him. Although at first, the twins thought he was a regular because you worked there.

The twins trusted you without a doubt. They knew you’d never sneak around with some other guy. It was this new guy they didn't trust. But when you came in one night and told them that you were planning on hitting the clubs with said guy, they put on fake smiles and told you to be safe.

Hours went by and yet you still did not return. The twins started feeling uneasy. This guy had to have been doing something? What if he took you back to his place? What if he was having his fun with you? What if…

The door unlocking caught the attention of the twins. You came in, looking just as you did when you left. No hair was out of place, no makeup smudges. You looked perfect and most importantly, you looked untouched.

But they wouldn't take any chances.

The way the twins were sat was like two mafia bosses waiting for a meeting. They even flicked the light on when you walked in. The way they stared you down was like a predator waiting to pounce. Fred was the first to speak up.

“You’re finally home, love. What took you so long?”

“Well, me and Matthew were at that club. We didn’t think we were there that long until we left”

Both of the twins tensed at Matthews name, as if a sour taste lingered on their tongues from your words. George got up and stalked towards you, his fingers wrapping around your wrist in a surprisingly tender touch despite the situation.

“You’ve been spending so much time with him, baby. Maybe it's time you spent a little time with us. You won't be thinking about Matthew once we’re done”

He moved quicker than you, pulling you to the bedroom with Fred trailing behind you both. Your hands were itching to remove your dress, to pull off your underwear and show your boyfriends what they wanted to see. You knew that the twins were jealous, it was as plain as the nose on their faces. But sometimes stirring the pot led to sex that was too good to pass up.

Fred tugged your dress up, bunching it around your hips while George kneeled before you and pushed your underwear to the side. He didn’t touch you, he just stared at you soaked folds.

“Did Matthew make you this wet? Were you giving him those cute little ‘fuck me’ eyes? Have you been a whore all night”

Fred’s hand moved from your rumpled dress and up your sternum, keeping you pressed against his chest. His lips ghosted across your ear.

“Answer Georgies question, slut”

You had to resist the urge to rub your thighs together, to give your clit the friction and attention that you’d been craving from them. And to get that attention, you’d have to bend to their will.

“S’not for Matthew, it's for you. I don’t want him. I need you guys”.

Fred and George shared a look, as if asking one another how long to prolong your suffering for. They could edge you all night if they pleased, or they could overstimulate you until you were nothing but a crying mess. Fred was the one who decided your fate.

“You need us? Prove it and take it”

Fred pulled you to the bed where he laid down first and tugged you by the hand to lay on him, your back to his chest. Your underwear was pushed down your legs just enough to grant the twins access. George could tell what Freds plan was, as always. That's why he got the bottle of lube from the nightstand.

You caught wind of their plan when you felt the familiar cold gel on your tight hole, making you squirm. Freds hands on your hips put a stop to that. His hands slid down under you and the familiar sounds of a belt buckle rattling and a zipper filled your ears. Fred pushed the tip of his cock against the ring of muscle, not stopping until it gave way and his tip was inside. George stroked your cheek, noticing the small twitch in your features from the slight pain that followed.

Fred kept pushing, stretching your hole around his shaft until he bottomed out. Tears gathered in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks, leaving a black trail from your mascara. George took a step back, admiring the sight of his brother's cock stretching your tightest hole. Freds arms stayed around your torso, pinning you against him.

George unzipped his trousers and pulled his cock out before taking his rightful place between your thighs. He tapped the head of his cock on your clit, making your shudder and whine. He could see how each tap made your hole clench and it only made him chuckle.

“You like it, love? Can see how you’re squeezing Freddies cock. Maybe next time you need punishing, I’ll spank that sensitive little clit till you’re soaking wet”

When he started pushing inside, you already felt stuffed. Your mind numbed into a blissful state where only the pleasure they were giving you mattered. The twins bottomed out, enjoying how tight you felt. Fred’s hands moved back to your hips, moving you and down for their pleasure. All you could do was lie there and let them use you.

In that moment, you became a toy for their pleasure. You took everything they gave you without complaining.

The twins thrusts got quicker and sloppier the closer they got. Their need to cum overtaking everything else. Their cocks seemed to pulse and swell before they came, making it feel like you were being stretched further. Freds arms tightened around you while George gripped your hips, leaving bruises identical to his hand prints. Fred panted in your ear.

“You wanna be full, baby? Ask nicely and we’ll cum inside you. And if you cum before us, Georgie might just make good on his promise to spank your pretty pussy”

A whine slipped from your lips and your eyes darted up to Georges. Your expression turned to one of need and a begging pout.

“Please Georgie, Freddie. I want you both, I need it. Please cum inside me. I want only you two”.

That admission of your submission to only them was all it took. Your pretty begging was such an ego boost. Their cum spilled from their cocks, painting your walls and leaving their mark inside of you. But they wouldn't leave you unsatisfied for long.

Fred trailed his hand between your thighs, finding your clit between your folds and giving it a harsh spank. A squeal escapes your lips and your legs jolt, trying to close around George's hips. Freds spanks remain harsh and insistent. Like he’s trying to make you cum from this alone…which you do.

Your body shudders as your orgasm floods your body, slick gushing from your hole. The twins held you steady, Fred spanks turning to circles to work you through your orgasm until that pleasure bordered on oversensitive pain.

George slowly pulled out before making his way to the bathroom, leaving you in Freddies arms. Freds hands stroked your skin, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your head. He slowly sat you both up and pulled his cock slowly from your hole, admiring the way it stayed stretched and the way his seed slowly started to leak out.

When he heard George's voice, he picked you up gently in his arms and carried you into the bathroom, where George had run a hot bath filled with bubbles for you. Rough sex may have been the twins forte, but aftercare was one of their favourite aspects of said rough sex. They got to look after you, comfort you, and give you all the kisses and cuddles your fucked out little brain could ever need.

Fred helped you to remove the last of your clothing before gently lowering you into the bath, but not before pressing a chaste but tender kiss to your forehead. The way they looked at you was like admiration. As if they were admiring the Mona Lisa or a statue of Aphrodite. They looked at you as if you were the most beautiful and precious thing on this earth.

Because to them, you were.

[tansyuduri]

Merlin Loregasm Rewatch S1E4

Hi Everyone! Welcome to my rewatch of Merlin focusing on the lore. I am a giant nerd so pretty excited about this. We're on THE POISONED CHALICE

OKAY so @catsconflictscopicsandchamomile our resident Old English expert explained to me something really interesting. the spell used by Nimueh draws its power from the Spear-Danes, the semi pagan culture featured in Beowulf (Who had their own lake lady in Grendel's mother who was likely a priestess of the old religion And linguisticly called Disir) There is more though The first lines of the spell also seem to be Nimue saying she owes her magic to the spear Danes (that Grendel the monster in Beowolf ate) At this point I'm wondering if its meant to establish she is saying HEY MY SPELLS ARE PAGEN This will not be the only Beowulf reference in this episode. (Its never referenced or quoted after this episode) I'm wondering if the translators threw this in as a joke or easter egg Or in my freind's words "fuck it. lets canonize Beowulf in this universe real fast" (Okay I just discovered one of their choices I'll talk about later and HOLY FREAKING SHIT)

Mercia is traditionally thought of as a kingdom formed during the anglo-saxon settlement of Britain (Which occurs post Merlin acoirding to Merlin having saxons of enemies in later seasons) The historic king Arthur if he existed was said to have fought against the anglo saxons but this is just a footnote as we are focusing on Merlin Universe) HOWEVER a 13th century text says "“Pagans came from Germany and occupied East Anglia, that is, the country of the East Angles; and some of them invaded Mercia, and waged war against the British.” 

British here being Original pre-saxon inhabitents. SO it is possible that a Mercia existed before The Anglo-Saxons. This could also be the Historian using the name he knows. Bayard is not a recorded later King of Mercia either so good choice in name if we want him to be a Britonic king from a Mercia founded before the Anglo-Saxons apear. Fun fact Mercia also resisted leaving paganism longer than any other Anglo-Saxon kingdom! BUT Anyway in Merlin Mercia is a thing, Its ruled by Bayard, and its color is blue. It would be in the midlands of England most likely.

Also he was at war with Camalot, but now is not. I wonder if that has to do with Uther having not inherited but taking over the kingdom! Uther: The treaty we sign today marks an end to war and the beginning of a new friendship between our peoples

I also think Uther as a peacemaker is interesting, especially as we see this more than once. It might be why some people view him as "A good king."

So this at first glance SEEMS like it hints more toward paganism. Beltane is a Gaelic May Day festival. But its renamed version May Day was not exactly Christianized. See most other big Gaelic festivals (usually religious) Were kinda taken over by Christianity when it came. Yule became Christmas Samhain became All Saints Day (All Hollows Eve) ETC. Beltane was also celebrated in some places ALONG with Christianity until the 1800s. (Scotland did this specifically) In modern times Beltane is VERY Pagan. And it is very possible this hints further toward the Camalot is pagan or just nonreligious side of the entire debate. (Despite people using words like god or hell.) But it's not quite as conclusive as many other type of references would be.

(For context despite it saying we've Arthur here is talking about Merlin, who just announced his cup was poisoned, exclusively which is interesting!) See slow gin is a type of alcohol made with juniper berries and blackthorn fruits. It was traditionally brewed (With a lot of home brewing) in October and November and used as a warming drink in the depths of winter. AS you can tell this episode does not take place in winter. I think there are two possibilities for Arthur picking this drink specifically to mention despite that. The first is that as a prince perhaps the drink is available to him year round if he wants it and he doesn't know that is not true of most people yet. The second is he is so panicked at the prospect of the trouble Merlin is in his mind latched on to the first drink that popped into it.

Okay, so Mort means death in Latin. And the ending suffix here Usually makes the word an adjective from proper or place names BUT often appears in flower naming. So basically this plant is named The "Death Flower" Flower or "Capital D Deathly" Flower

Gaius: it can only be found in the caves deep beneeth the forest of Baloch The flower grows on the roots of the Mortaeus tree.

Uh okay. THERE IS SOME SHIT GOING DOWN with this plant. First of all, flowers growing from the roots of a tree is just weird. flowers are basically there to attract things to pollinate a plant usualy. If a tree has flowers they do not grow from the roots. Second of all its kinda weird for flowers or trees to grow in DEEP caves. Sunlight cannot read them there. I would give it a pass if it did not say deep because if there were cracks in the ceiling of the cave that could put light though. It does kinda explain why they can ONLY be found there though. If its so odd and specialized it might be the only place it can grow.

This flower is either innately magical in some odd way or does not conform to evolution. So at this point I am pretty sure it was bred/engineered/magiced into being but some sorcerer. Likely specifically for poisoning people. and that person wanted to limit the people who knew of it and thus kept it in once set of caves. BUT SOMHOW news got out about it. Ok so I also looked up Baloch. In Welsh it can mean dig or sorry. In Irish it means boy and in scottish the same thing. So no info to be gleaned from that

Gauis: A cockatrice-- it guards the forest. Its venom is extremely potent, a single drop would mean certain death. OK first of all I'm doubling down on there being some past sorcerer, Because they were FOR SURE using these as guard dogs. Second of all I LOVE Merlin paying fast and loose with magical creatures from folklore because I can too in my fics A Cockatrice in folklore was a monster created when a toad or snake egg was hatched beneath a chicken. It could kill with a look, or a breath, or a touch, and was basically a two-legged dragonish creature with a rooster head. In the Merlin world it is very diferant. We'll see one soon! "Few who have crossed the mountains of Isgard in search of the Moraeus flower have made it back alive." Yeah can't find any meaning behind the name Isgard! BUT HAVE I MENTIONED I THINK A SORCER ONCE LIVED IN THE CAVES/FOREST.

Okay I think this is a reference to the actual historical job of taster. Basically important people (ESP royalty) would hire someone to taste all their food before thay ate it. That way if it was poisoned the taster would die instead of them. It was viewed as a pretty plum gig because poisoning didn't often happen (ESP if people knew there was a taster) and the taster got to eat REALLY good food and get paid for it. I think its also an interesting character detail that while this kinda implies that Uther might have someone (At least for his private food and not banquets) We see multiple times that Arthur in fact does NOT. It is quite possible he managed to put his foot down and get out of this somehow because he believes it to be wrong. Which not gonna lie is a very Arthur thing to do.

(Context: Arthur talking about how Gaius said they can save Merlin if they get the leaf so it is not a fools errand) Waiiit is this trying to imply that Gaius was the one who brought up the idea that one could use the old religion to give Uther a son? I mean we knew he was the messenger. but HOLY SHIT. And if that is true, Uther somhow forgave him? Why would Uther forgive him? The only thing I can think is if Gaius talked about how magic had tricked him and gave Uther something else to blame. This is all conjecture though. Uther could be referring on how Gaius is close to Merlin or something else. It just feels like it might be a nod at what all went down around Arthur's birth.

Okay so this is Merlin quoting Beowolf here. A Poem that is yet to be written down but might have had some oral tradition and actually takes place at the traditional time Arthur is said to have lived. Merlin is basically talking about how Arthur/Beowolf is endowed with honnor. This happens right after Arthur decides to ride out to save Merlin.

Magic Rule Established: Potions/Poisons can be more potent if magic is used in their preperation

Okay MORE Beowolf

Merlin says Arthurs name then basically talks about a young man doing good deeds.

Playing hard and fast as I said. LOOK Dinosaur!

Okay so more Beowolf At this point I am 99.99% sure the people hired to write the spells at the time where having the time of their life. Let me explain

This line talks about gifts of treasure (the light) he conjuress to help Arthur. Fine. BUT then it mentions Arthur being under his father's protection. Expect Merlinto protectg him. The spell writers used a freaking old english poem to let Merlin call himself Arthur's "daddy" I am not sure what I am expected to do with this knowledge. (It might have been chosen so they could use the next line of the spell but THEY DID NOT HAVE TO DO THIS) The next line (Which is actually also the next line in the poem) says something about how so that when Arthur is older his companions can stand with him when war comes.

Okay so yeah turns out there is no tree or roots. I'm chalking this up to he said she said. STILL GOING WITH THE SORCERER.

OKAY so it a potion is made using magic the antidote may ALSO need magic

Oh look our first hint Merlin is immortal. I find his brand of immortality intersting. HE CAN DIE he just comes back after a bit.

[emeryleewho]

The thing is, I know not everyone is gonna read everything I write or like everything I write. I am well aware that even reaching a couple thousand people with any work is a great accomplishment to be proud of. But I've also been in publishing so long, I think part of me has internalized that "book of your heart" nonsense where people insist that if you don't love a story with all your heart, it'll show and no one will want to read it, but if you love a story, everyone will find it and love it too by sheer force of your love for it.

So when I'm out here every week begging people to read the story that I love more than any of the other 30 I've written just to get at most a single nod, it feels like *I'm* the problem because I obviously just don't love the story enough. Spending 5 years writing it, countless hours drawing it, putting together over 500 pages of lore--none of that proves I care about this story because if I *cared* about it, other people would care too and they'd all be shouting about it and I'd be flooded by fan support by now.

And it just really sucks how much publishing has fucked with my head that I can't even enjoy finally sharing this story with an audience because I have to feel guilty about "not loving" it enough like that's a thing that's even possible. I hate that publishing killed so much of my sense of joy and wonder when it comes to creating and made it where everything feels like I'm competing to prove myself.

So, anyway, yeah, this is why my number one advice to writers is "consider if you even *want* to be a published author" because if you're thinking of going trad, it's more likely to break you than make you, and it blows to lose the one thing that meant the most to you because of how badly this industry fucks with your head.