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#they were distracted by looking at each other
nervoussagittarius · 2 days
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do you still have wisdom?
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matt sturniolo x reader
summary: in the midst of your wisdom teeth removal, your boyfriend and his brothers become your caregivers, request
warnings: fluffy, language, one suggestive comment, talk of needles and surgery,
the camera started rolling as you lethargically placed yourself in matt’s arms. today was the day you were getting your wisdom teeth removed and it was safe to say you were extremely nervous.
“tell everyone how you’re feeling y/n/n” nick said.
you lifted your head from matt’s chest and you replied, “i feel nervous about being put under anesthesia and i’m just really tired.” you felt matt footing shift slightly as he chucked.
matt moved from holding you to just wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “yeah so y/n didn’t really sleep last night, but you’ll have all the time to sleep tonight, okay?” you looked up at him and nodded with a small smile.
“so we’re going to go to the dentist and we’ll see you guys there.”
about an hour went by before you were sat in the chair, laying back, getting ready to receive your iv. you were not excited. you didn’t have a big fear of needles, you could tolerate them. it was the idea of the needle being in your arm for a long amount of time.
the three boys stood around you in a comforting manner. nick and matt stood to your right. nick filming while matt held your hand and soothingly ran his fingers through your hair. chris stood to your left paying attention to what the doctors were telling you guys.
“we’re going to put your iv in and it will give you the anesthesia so you’ll be out shortly after that. we’ll be in and out for the next couple minutes to see how you’re doing.” your doctor said as he started prepping your arm for the needle. you turned your head towards matt as he made goofy faces at you as a distraction.
“thank you.” you guys all stated as the doctor left your room. your eyes almost instantly started to become heavy and you felt sleep begin to take over.
the drowsiness became more prominent as the boys started to make jokes. “y/n, what kind of cup doesn’t hold liquid?” chris asked laughing. your eyes fluttered shut as you held a finger to your lips to shush him. “a cupcake.” chris finished making nobody laugh but himself.
you reached your arm up over your shoulder to gets matt’s attention. you blindly hit him and he looked down at you. “what’s up, love?” he asked.
“please ask chris to stop making jokes. i can’t focus on him right now.”
chris gave you an offended face as nick and matt broke out into a laughter. “you heard her chris, stop talking.” nick said almost in tears from laughing.
the doctor came back in just as you fell fully asleep. “okay y/n, we’re going to test your memory later. your password is grape.” you deliriously nodded in agreement. matt stayed by your side rubbing your shoulder for as long as he could before ultimately getting kicked out of the room.
the three boys stood in the hallway half focused on eachother and half focused on you. “how are you feeling matt?” chris asked, patting him on the shoulder and coming around to stand next to him. “i feel okay. i know how much pain she’s been in so i’m glad we’re getting that taken care of. i’m happy we’re all here to support her.”
the camera panned to you in the chair just as you started to lift your head slightly. you quickly side eyed the doctors as they readjusted you to leaning back.
a short time passed before all four of your wisdom teeth were extracted and your three best friends were allowed back in your room.
“how are you feeling y/n/n?” chris asked.
your were still a bit out of it and the gauze in your mouth slurred your words. “i’m cold.” was all that you got out. you were feeling emotional so when the three boys all looked at each other because they forgot your jacket in the car tears started to brim your eyes.
“awe sweetheart don’t cry we’ll figure it out. here you can have my long sleeve.” once you realized matt was next to you it was like your heart did a one eighty. “oh hi matt! i missed you!” you exclaimed lovingly as your words blended together.
“i appreciate the offer but i can’t put the shirt over my iv.” you said with a tiny frown. almost instantly chris started removing his zip-up and draped it over you. “hey! thanks chris.” you gave him a loopy smile.
“hey y/n, do you remember your password?” your doctor asked as he came back into the room to type on the computer. you instantly gave him, and the three brothers around you, a very confused look. “like for my phone?” you were extremely confused at this point and you couldn’t get much out of the three boys who were laughing their asses off. your doctor took over trying to explain. “we gave you a password that you were supposed to remember. do you?” you shook your head at him. “that’s okay we’re going to give you another on and if you remember then you can leave and go home. your password is ocean.”
“ocean, got it”
you thought for a second before speaking up again. “hey doc, how long until i can suck dick again?” nick and chris had officially lost it at this point. cracking up at the fact that you had no idea that your exposing all of your and matt’s secrets. matt only blushed and tried not to smile when you smiled up at him and grabbed his hand in yours. you tried to wink at him but it came out more as a delayed blink.
the doctor didn’t look shocked at all. you figured he’d been used to receiving this question. “you have to wait until your incisions heal. so a couple weeks.” and with that the doctor left the room again.
you looked at matt with a sorrowful face. “sorry matt.” you remorsefully said. trying to change the subject matt spoke up, “what’s the password, sweetheart?” you looked at him lovingly. “you’re pretty.” you said reaching you hand up to rest on his cheek.
“thanks baby.”
“hey, between me and nick whose your favorite?” asked chris as he poked your shoulder in an annoying but excited manner. you looked at him, then at nick, and then back to matt. you looked straight into the camera nick was holding before firmly stating, “i don’t have favorites.” chris rolled his eyes at you.
“and if i did have a favorite it would be matt, duh.” hearing this matt leaned down to kiss your forehead.
“y/n, what’s your password to go home.”
“um? lake?”
“ohhhh so close. it is a body of water. it was ocean.” chris cooed at you as he rubbed your shoulder.
“your new one is sushi.” “oh i love sushi.”
you reached up to rub your eyes forgetting that your were still connected to a couple of wires. “ow you mother fucker.” you commented looking down at you arms. “please kiss it.” you said lifting your arm up to chris since he was closest to your iv.
“listen kid, i love ya but i’m not kissing your arm.”
“that’s so fucked up. i’d do it for you.” you complained. hesitantly, chris leaned down to place the lightest peck possible to your arm. “thank you. matt, i love you” you quickly changed the subject. he was caught off guard at your sudden outburst. “i love you too, y/n”
“nick, chris, i love you guys too.” “we love you y/n.” “love ya y/n/n.”
the doctor made his way back to the room to see that your medicine was all injected through your veins. and started to take your iv out. “do you remember the password to go home, y/n?”
“yep it’s sushi.” you said as you kept your eyes on matt to avoid noticing the needle coming out of your arm. he ran his hand up and down your arm to comfort you. “that’s right.” nick said patting your leg to congratulate you on remembering.
the doctor got a wheelchair to take you to the car. when you made it to the parking garage matt helped you into the passenger seat and gently kissed your cheek letting you know he had to go get the parking pass.
you leaned back in your chair and sighed contently. “i just love him so much. he’s so perfect and babygirl.” nick and chris laughed as matt came back to the car.
you held your teeth to the camera showing them the container. “i have to put my teeth under my pillow so the tooth fairy brings me money.”
“you’re bloody teeth are not going anywhere near my bed.” “our bed.”
the video ended shortly after that with you grabbing matt’s hand and telling the viewers to enjoy the video while you enjoyed the dominic fike album chris put on for you.
comments:
i love how flirty y/n is in anesthesia
matt was so boyf in this video
y/n is right matt is babygirl
chris is such a little brother it’s unreal
nick is really giving us the content we need
an: this is all i’ve been thinking about for the past day. also i started a tag list so go comment on it if you want added 🤍
taglist: @norr1ssturni0lo @recklessmatt
tags for this post: @thetriplets3 @mazzystar111
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midnightcrw · 2 days
Text
Provocative
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Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.
Warnings: Swearing
a/n: I know it's been a long time, but I just couldn't get myself to write anything because of my finals coming up and everything else going on. I also didn't want to write a bad third part, so I only wanted to write when I had some motivation to do so. I hope you all will like it. Part 1 / Part 2
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If you had known that one day you would see Mimzy again, you would have been the most holy person in your mortal days, and unfortunately, you weren't.
And as soon as everyone in the hotel registered the short woman's appearance, Lucifer dropped his grip on your hand, looking almost fearfully at your expression, which probably said more than a thousand words.
"Why is everybody gawking? Is it cuz I'm adorable?" The woman playfully said while posing as you gritted your teeth.
And not even a second later, Alastor immediately stopped holding your hand, "Mimzy!" The happiness was more than obvious in his tone.
"Alastor, sweetie, doll face!" In your mind you were already imagining how you could break every bone in her body. "How have you been? Good? Good," she said as she put her arms around your husband.
They even squeezed each other as they made contented sounds. "You good?" Lucifer whispered in your ear as you could almost feel your eye twitch.
"Splendid," you murmured back as the Ruler of Hell continued to look at you uncertainly, but your eyes never left the pair.
"I heard you were staying at this ritzy slob factory and I figured I'd stop by, say hi! For old times sake" you hated the way she talked about Charlie's hotel as the blonde walked even closer to Alastor, if that was even possible.
"Of course, Sweetheart! Everyone is welcome here" the enthusiasm still didn't leave your husband's voice as you balled your fists tightly.
"'Everyone is welcome' my ass," Lucifer muttered hatefully, squinting his eyes at the man dressed in red.
When Charlie asked how they knew each other, you tried to hold back as best you could, you knew what was coming.
And the moment Mimzy heard the question, an even bigger smile appeared on her face "Oh yeah. We go way back."
A little too far back, you thought.
"You know, this one used to frequent the club where I used to perform. He's the only one I knew who could pound whiskey like a sailor and then keep up with me on the dance floor," her theatrics continued as she did a little dance and received a compliment from Alastor.
"Ho ho, you should have seen her in her heyday," oh, how you wished you hadn't seen her then.
You remembered everything perfectly. Mimzy and Alastor knew each other before you married him, and you met her through him.
Alastor was always a huge fan of music, especially the music that was played at the club where Mimzy used to work. And one day he had had taken you out on a date. Of course you were excited at first, you had never been to that club before, you were expecting something spectacular since your husband was always talking about it.
And oh, how spectacular it was, Mimzy practically throwing herself at your husband like it was nothing. Now, you really weren't a jealous person, but the short woman brought out the worst in you.
At first you really tried to like her, but with every backhanded compliment, you began to truly despise her more and more.
It was obvious that she had a crush on Alastor, and that crush probably never really went away, or she just wanted to get you mad by sticking to him like glue.
"Oh, oh, my stars," she made her way to Lucifer as soon as she saw him, and you immediately made your way to Alastor while she was distracted.
"You never told me she was here," you said in a snippy tone as you approached him until you and him were face to face, just with you having to look up due to his height.
"My sweet, of course Mimzy would be in hell," he only said as he looked at the chubby woman who was currently engrossed in a conversation Lucifer had no interest in.
Before you could snap at him, the annoying voice was heard once more, "No way!" Mimzy shouted loudly as she made her way towards you, deliberately swaying her hips.
And before you could prepare, the short woman hugged you tightly as she stood on her tiptoes to lean closer to you, "Still the jealous little wench, I see," she snickered as you bit your tongue.
"Ah, just like old days," Alastor's smile still remained on his face as he looked at the two of you, obviously not having heard what his friend had just said to you.
I'll show you the old days, you thought when Mimzy finally let go of you. And then you all remembered that the tour of the hotel had to continue.
"Why don't you let the others help you settle in and I'll be back before you know it," your husband said to Mimzy as he took your hand and led you to Charlie and her dad.
"Behave," Alastor whispered in your ear as his static returned and you could only scoff.
"I'm the one who should behave?! Look at you!" You whispered back, even digging your nails into the hand that was currently holding yours.
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And while the tension between the two of you didn't go away, Mimzy already started talking to the others at the bar.
"How ya been, fur-ball?" She asked as she leaned her elbows against the bar, holding her face up with her hands.
"Good until five minutes ago" Husk wasn't happy about the whole situation, just like you, and it was obvious, and clearly ignoring his mood, she turned around to ask what Niffty has been up to.
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"I never understood why you liked her so much," you said, keeping the frown on your face as Alastor let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist while Lucifer glared at him as Charlie showed him around.
"Jealous, aren't you?" He asked with his piercing smile, having already expected this reaction from you.
"She's the last person I would be jealous of," you snapped back, but in reality you knew she was everything you were ever jealous of.
Not only was she popular, but she was beautiful and confident. All the things you couldn't see for yourself.
Suddenly, Alastor laughed, even softly, I might add, as his hand rubbed your hip, "As it should be, you have nothing to be jealous of, love," your eyes widened.
He has never called you "love" before, unless it was to get attention or to make your marriage more believable decades ago.
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"Uh-huh... Thanks, pussy cat!" Mimzy said as she drank from the glass.
"Oh, fuck you" was the only thing Husk replied with as he walked away while Angel Dust made his way to the bar.
"So uh, you and Alastor are like what? Friends?"
A grin made its way across her face, "Well, that's your word, not mine, but I think it fits," Angel Dust didn't seem too convinced as he sipped from his glass, which didn't seem to make Mimzy too happy.
"Why so surprised?" She grunted as Angel Dust responded with "Well, just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery. I really don't know how his his wife handles him. What even is his deal?"
At the mention of you, her face fell for a split second, but she regained her composure as she began to tell them about when Alastor revealed himself as the Radio Demon.
"But underneath is all... he's a total sweetie. Put on some jazz and pour a couple fingers of rye, and he becomes a kitten!"
Sir Pentious and Angel Dust looked at her in shock, since that part didn't sound like the Overlord they knew.
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And once the tour was over and they made their way back to the bar.
"There you all are! I was starting to get real bored here," Mimzy's voice was slowly starting to make you mad once more.
"Finally," Husk grunted as he wiped the glass in his hands clean while Mimzy continued to talk.
"I bet she was the reason it took so long," obviously referring to you as she glared, "Nothing's been the same since the marriage," the short woman ranted, while you rolled your eyes at her as you suddenly felt Alastor's hand graze your back.
Looking up at him, his eyes were a fraction softer for once, as you couldn't look away.
"Since the marriage?" Lucifer asked, clearly confused as to what was being discussed.
"Their marriage, of course," Mimzy said with disgust in her voice as she nodded towards you and Alastor.
"You're married?!" Lucifer yelled as you flinched at the sudden loudness, while Alastor rubbed your arm in reassurance.
Fuck... you thought.
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boundinparchment · 2 days
Text
Essence
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Behind you, Dottore clicked his tongue against his teeth, and continued rooting around in the cabinet. This wasn’t the first time today. In fact, it was the third after an errant vial rolled from a top shelf and broke earlier that morning. You and your samples remained uncontaminated only due to Dottore leaning forward and covering both of you. Or: an accident with a questionable substance leads to a new experiment. Dottore/Female Reader. Accidental exposure to aphrodisiac; breeding kink towards the end, pwp. Available on AO3 here.
“Don’t move.”
You froze, acutely aware of the source of heat and muscle against your back as Dottore reached above you.  
This wasn’t a new occurrence; every once in a while, either Dottore himself or a Segment needed to get into the cabinets above your workstation.  Extra vial trays, pipettes, errant extra microscope slides, among other items.  Things you used for blood and chemical analysis.  You were used to the briefest moment of keeping your head down, front pressed against the edge of your workstation, and feeling Dottore’s heat against you.
Funny, you thought, when he always came across as indifferent to everything.  The Segments were a few degrees warmer, no doubt due to their components.  Their presence was akin to touching a hot pan out of the oven with nothing between your skin whereas Dottore, the prime origin point, was porcelain warmed by fresh tea.
Behind you, Dottore clicked his tongue against his teeth, and continued rooting around in the cabinet.
This wasn’t the first time today.
In fact, it was the third after an errant vial rolled from a top shelf and broke earlier that morning.  You and your samples remained uncontaminated only due to Dottore leaning forward and covering both of you.
You hadn’t caught a glimpse at the label but the contents hadn’t seemed harmful.  Dottore, although not melting, was far from pleased.  He barked to take better inventory of your workstation as your eyes traced the pink substance that soaked his hair, feathery mantle, and immaculate white coat.
He had since removed his formal trappings and appeared all the more graceful for it.  
A breath tickled your scalp as he placed his free hand on your waist, holding you still.
The touch sent jolts through you, as if you were standing in a field during a thunderstorm.  Dottore kept his hand there and you tried to keep your breath from hitching, his finger flexing occasionally.  Was he testing whether you were ticklish?
His breathing was unnaturally slow in return, pressing against you further with every inhale.
“What are you looking for, Lord Harbinger?” you asked, neck craned low.  
It was best to continue to work.  Before you were samples of primordial water.  The substance glistened in standing vials, each awaiting their next step.  
You felt him shift forward and your hips met his properly.  He had, quite effectively, sandwiched you between him and the counter.  A dull yearning sat low in your belly and you doubled your efforts on the samples in front of you.  
To say you did not find your supervisor attractive would be a lie; like most, you often wondered what lay beneath the bird-like mask, literally and metaphorically.  The lower half of his face was charming, home to a well-shaped jaw and a set of lips that were, at times, distracting.  The conversations held between you often led down other avenues.  It was clear to you that few, if any, would ever be a match for him in how he saw the world.
The thought that crossed your mind was bold: someone like him did not need a matching piece, an opposite to dilute him.  A mind like his needed the challenge of one who complemented his thought processes.  More like a fine wine pairing rather than a Hydro slime dousing a flaming flower.
When Dottore didn’t respond, his body tense against you and hand tight on your waist, you spoke up.  Was he ill?  
“Lord Harbinger?” 
You shifted in the hopes that your moving might break his thoughts.  Dottore inhaled sharply and pushed you forward again, chest and hips pressing against you further.  His other arm was still raised, as though he hadn’t quite finished in his search high above.
“I said: don’t move.”
The words were hissed against your ear and you felt the tip of his mask against your scalp.  His chest rose and fell in harsh, stilted motions and you swore you heard him mutter something into your hand when he squeezed your waist again.
Against your backside, you now realized why, precisely, he’d requested your stillness.  The dull pangs from earlier became aching throbs at the apex of your thighs.  You pushed away the thoughts, reminding yourself biological reactions were simply part of being human.  The position you were in was one many would envy.
“I cannot find the tincture that is usually kept here.  But the longer I stay, the worse this problem will be,” Dottore whispered into your ear.
His voice was always so alluring and now it was one of the only parts you could focus on.  Blood drained from your extremities, keen on flooding other parts of your body.
“What was in that vial, sir?”
“Cherubic sea hare venom and whopperflower nectar, stabilized by a single Agate gemstone, finely ground.  All batches of it were purged.  Or should have been.”
An interesting mixture, you mused, as Dottore’s raised arm came down and reached behind you.  You heard a telltale click and then watched as he rested the familiar mask off to the side, next to your tray.  When you went to turn your head and look over your shoulder, his now-free hand found your jaw and pulled your gaze back forward.  Through his gloves, his touch felt feverish, scalding.
“Eye contact will make it worse.  Do as I ask.”
His voice was tight, breathing ragged now, nose buried in your hair.  Archons, you’d had fleeting thoughts of him but this was torture.  Here he was, struggling against whatever he’d come into contact with while trying to work. All because of an accident that wouldn’t have occurred if you didn’t need to work exactly at this location.  Fate was a cruel mistress but this was sheer misfortune for both of you.
“Those substances are hardly volatile on their own, sir,” you offered.
He always enjoyed discussing ideas and he encouraged an environment conducive to it among your peers.  Distracting him might help.
You wanted to move your hips, as though friction would give you any kind of relief, but remained as still as possible.  He wasn’t giving you much of a choice and the longer you stayed still, the more aware you became of everything else.  You were acutely aware of your own wetness, your uniform pants already sticking to the apex of your thighs when you felt him twitch.  His presence was overwhelming on a good day when there were several feet between you.
“The whopperflower nectar is a good base for any mixture but tends to result in disorientation and temperature changes depending on its source,” he said into your hair, his other hand falling to grip your waist.  “Agate, of course, contains the power and passion of the pyro archon.”
His hands tightened, squeezing right at the junction of your hips.
“And the sea hare venom?”
This had to stop at some point, though, right?  None of those substances ever left behind permanent effects.  On their own, they were relatively harmless, but if synthesized together in the right dose, would…
Dottore nuzzled your hair and then worked his way down to your neck, lips ghosting the shell of your ear and the tender spot beneath your earlobe.  
“Enhances one’s awareness of their partner’s needs and changes in pheromones.  Along with an increased stamina.”
“Partner’s needs?”
Your heart pounded as it was but seemed to miss two beats at his wording.  He was already specific and precise.  Purposeful.
“This substance only works when the subjects already have an attraction to another individual, a pre-existing bias.  It is similar to tunnel vision, an obsessive focus on the other with decreased inhibitions.”
You gasped as he pressed against you further, his hardened member against the curve of your ass, situated perfectly.  Heat rose from your chest to your face as you finally put the pieces together and your own arousal caught up with you.
“And you, my dear, keep moving despite my warnings.  Are you eager or were you contaminated as well?”
You stiffened at the realization that, lost in the headiness of it all, you’d been bucking against him the entire conversation.  Your body had a mind of its own and your mouth ran dry.
“I—“
You knew you hadn’t gotten a drop on you.  Somehow that felt all the more shameful.  He needed help out of this situation and all you’d done was chase your own arousal, relished in the moment.  Even if he walked away now, he would still likely require relief and release.  Still be plagued with thoughts of you.  The way forward was obvious, wasn’t it?
“I want to help, my lord.  My mind is clear.  Would it not be beneficial to…see the experiment through?”
The tiniest bit of tension seemed to ease as he flexed his fingers.  Did he like that, you wondered, the way your skin sank beneath his fingers?
“The results might be promising.  But I must warn you…”
Before you could formulate your next thought, Dottore’s hips pinned you in place as he pushed away the objects in front of you with little care.  No sooner had the fleeting consideration for your samples crossed your mind, you felt open-mouthed kisses on your neck, hasty and hungry.  You arched your back and leaned into him, closing your eyes and tilting your neck to give him better access.  
“This will only be the first stage,” he whispered.  “And there is no going back.”
You did not trust your vocal cords as he found a particularly sensitive spot near your ear, stifling a moan and keeping it in your throat.  His hands remained flat against the surface of your work station, further pinning you, surrounding you.  Dottore lifted his head from the curve of your neck long enough to reach out and drag back a pencil and a nearby sheet of paper.
He managed to scribble something in shorthand that you recognized as observations of his symptoms and a basic outline. You had suggested he treat it like an experiment, after all.  
You felt his cock twitch again as his other hand freed itself from the surface to skim the edge of your uniform top.  A low growl rippled through his chest and he paused only to pull off his gloves; as soon as he was free, the pencil was in his hand again and he was grazing the pads of his fingers over your stomach.
Every touch felt as if you were being held above a fire, the flames licking and searing but never leaving a trace.  Your breath left your lips in short, staccato gasps and you shivered, relishing the soft jolts that ran through you.  
He squeezed your hip again on occasion and his fingers dipped beneath the edge of your pants, tracing the lines where your clothes left their mark.  The pressure behind you eased only enough for him to fit his hand between both of you and head lower, grabbing the soft flesh of your ass.  A low moan rumbled behind you as his fingers delved a little further, skimming your outer lips.  You were soaked, his touch gliding over you; you wriggled against him and felt his teeth skim your neck in warning.
“Eager indeed,” he whispered, breath hot against your ear.  “I could already smell it but this is a pleasant surprise.  Have you had thoughts of me, my dear?  Have you fantasized about this?”
Your cheeks burned and Dottore chuckled, his fingers prodding your hot, soaked core once more before withdrawing and cupping your ass again.  He obviously had, otherwise neither of you would be here in this predicament; after all, Dottore stated the substance only worked precisely because there was already a cognitive bias. 
You whimpered as his hand let go of your plush flesh and reached around, fingertip hovering over your swollen clit.  Dottore touched you just enough to cause a squeezing ache through you, your swollen walls demanding more.
“I have, Lord Harbinger,” you panted.
He made another notation as he withdrew his touch, the pencil snapping in his hand just as he finished the last flourish, the last of his restraint gone.  He cast aside the remnants with a flick of his wrist and tugged your pants down just past your hips.  Dottore didn’t bother to do more than unfasten his belt and free himself from the confines of his trousers, bare cock situated between your wet thighs.
The Harbinger pressed a hand to your back and pressed you forward, bending you over the surface, all the better to expose yourself to him.  He leaned over you, sheltering you, as he aligned the head of his member with your entrance, running his length across your lips.  A gasp left you at the sound of your slickness.  Whatever shame you had the decency to feel was gone, replaced with only a blinding need to be full, complete.
He sank into you slowly, his cock stretching your swollen walls with each shallow thrust, his hands fisted so tight his knuckles were bone-white.  You shuddered when he brushed past a particular spot every time, the edge already much closer than you expected.  An icy jolt ran through your core, walls clenching from the pressure of being pressed against the table.  Dottore hissed and his strokes grew long and full, nose buried in the crook of your neck as the sounds and scents of your coupling filled the air.  
At least this lab was more secluded but you long since lost control of any thoughts about being caught.  
“The timing could not have been better,” Dottore murmured, his pace increasing.  “How perfect.”
You meant to ask but he drove into you harder, the edge of the table pushing into your diaphragm, preventing you from speaking.  The impending bliss was already making you see stars and the lack of air was only enhancing the coil tightening deep inside.  You stifled your moans, although perhaps there was no point, as teeth grazed your ear and neck.  Hands reached for your hair, your waist, your hips as he continued to thrust, white hot heat searing across your vision as the pressure finally snapped.  Dottore groaned as you fluttered around his cock, squeezing and pulsing.  
His rhythm never changed through your aftershocks and he sent you over the edge twice more, legs quivering.  All thoughts of documenting his observations seemed gone now as he sank his teeth into the curve where your neck met your shoulder.  With a few quick snaps of his hips, Dottore shuddered atop you and you felt a shooting warmth, filling you to the brim and then some.
Dottore remained inside you, body covering yours.  His hands massaged your hips as he pulled away from your neck enough to press his lips to the open skin and lick away the blood.
“Decreased inhibitions indeed…” you muttered, tongue heavy.
You tried to shift, or at least stand straight slightly.  Your back was beginning to protest and between the man inside you and the table, catching your breath proved difficult.  Dottore chuckled as he ground his hips into yours, his cock still hard and buried deep inside you.
“We’re far from done, my dear.  Stage one is not over yet.  This substance can take days to wear off.  In that time, I’m certain I’ll obtain the results necessary to move right into stage two.  Taking you on your back might improve the timeline, though…”
Your stomach sank as you managed to turn your head and cast a look through your peripheral over your shoulder.  All you caught was a glimpse of a wide smile and glittering ruby eyes staring down at you.
“Oh, did I not mention that?  It’s quite convenient that your body is ready, based on your pheromones; I cannot stop until we’ve guaranteed success.”
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norrisleclercf1 · 2 days
Note
Inspired by Mark entering his silver fox era:
imagine reader discovering Mark has grown back his facial hair and it's come in even more grey than she anticipated (maybe she was away for a week), and when she sees her husband again, she can't help herself and climbs him like a tree
oh my god send help, I am down bad for him 😵‍💫😵‍💫
A/N: We're going to hell but at least it'll be together lovely
Humming, Mark couldn't wait for you to get home, he's honestly never missed you more. He was finally getting a taste of what it was like for him to be home, but for you to be gone and he honestly hated it. He was never really gone long, not sense he's retired.
If he was gone long, you were always with him, you two couldn't be away from each other long, Sebastian, Fernando, and even Jenson used to make fun of him when they were all younger. They were so used to you being in the paddock when Mark was driving, and now if they didn't see you two together it was odd.
Mark had to keep himself distracted from the fact that you weren't home, he was so distracted he even let his beard and grey in his hair grow out. Normally he'd ask one of the kids to dye it or shave his beard to a stubble. But now, it was fully grown, and you could clearly see the grey in it.
Mark taps his foot, standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes that the kids left behind. Mark pays so much attention to the dishes, trying not to stare at the clock, that he completely misses your car pulling in, parking, and opening the back door.
To say you missed your husband was an understatement. Mark and you have only been able to text and call, unable to face time, so you haven't been able to see your husband. You hear the screams of laughter from your 3 kids down the hall, and stop seeing Mark's tall figure and broad back facing you.
"What's up good lookin," You laugh, Mark turning around quick with his eyes wide. "Hey! You're home early!" You freeze, mouth dropping open as you stare at all the grey in his hair and beard. "You're grey!" You gasp, Mark groans and rubs a hand over his beard. "Yeah. I've been so distracted, trying to think how you're not here. And Ollie was busy with her friends so she hasn't had time to dye it." He admits and you sputter.
"No! Don't dye it," You drop your bag and rush forward, pulling him down to eye level as you rake your eyes all over him. "Fuck, you look hot." You groan and wrap your arms around his neck, Mark chuckles and stands and you wrap your legs around his waist. His hands cup your ass and bounce you a little bit, getting a better grip and groaning as you kiss him deeply.
"Ewwww," You pull away and groan, looking at your 17 year old daughter Olive. "Adult time, got it," She holds her hands up and you laugh as Mark glares. "What do you know about that," "Mark, protective dad later, husband duties first." You whisper as Olive walks down the hallway and closing, and locking the door.
"Right," Making you laugh loudly as he walks you to the bedroom.
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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 2 days
Text
a waste of a beautiful dress - n. hischier
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summary: an unhappy valentine's day date doesn't always end up with you watching lord of the rings alone with a glass of wine...at least, not when a certain captain can help it
warnings: talks of sex/bad date, mention of alcohol consumption, descriptions of the above facial injury, swearing, cutesy 2.1k thing
a/n: this is a short imagine-thing i wrote on valentine's day that i kind of forgot about (i was gonna write more but i just couldn't think of what to do, so if the ending's weird, that's why!) and i didn't want to not publish this for you guys, so...enjoy!
“Is everything okay?”
You blinked, the elevator coming back to focus around you, the walls distorting the reflection of someone that, rather against your will, you’d found growing increasingly familiar with each week. The bottle of wine in your grasp felt suddenly heavier under his careful scrutiny, and you felt your fist tighten around it, almost protectively.
You could only imagine what you looked like: nice clothes – maybe a little too  nice for an evening stroll or a walk around the block, and a tarnished, almost numb expression on your face, even despite the conflicted tornado swirling inside your mind. There was no doubt he’d deciphered your distracted look and the dejection written so plainly on your face. Yet, though you knew what he saw, you refused to feel pity for yourself.
You inhaled, plastering a tight smile on your face as you looked towards him, his beloved beanie on his head and a backpack on his shoulders. His head was dipped a little, a slight furrow between his brows, ever telling of his caring tendencies, and you suddenly felt a little better, even despite the previous events.
“I’m fine.” You tried, slyly moving the bottle further out of his sight. It didn’t work: his eyes seemed to catch the slight motion before meeting yours, a look of disbelief on his face, “You?” You asked, desperate to turn his attention away from you.
Nico Hischier wasn’t someone you’d have found yourself chatting to casually mere months ago, at least not past the usual pleasantries. Though, it seemed the mutual friends and the many parties had oiled that creaking joint somewhere along the way, and – hesitantly – you were friends to some degree. So much so that every so often the two of you may find yourselves in the other’s apartment with a mug of coffee or a glass of wine in hand with something playing on the TV.
Of course, no one else knew about that.
He sighed, leaning back against the mirror opposite you. There was a cut under his eye you hadn’t seen immediately, but when he leant back the light seemed to catch the green skin and the scratch. He seemed to notice your concerned wince before you could point it out, his hand flying up to lightly press underneath it, “It’s fine, I just caught a puck yesterday.”
Before he could say anything else, and you knew he would because he started to frown again, you interrupted, a slight laugh of mirth passing your lips, “No big deal.”
He froze a little, but still a smile replaced the apprehension as he shook his head, "Better my cheek than my teeth.” 
“That’s true.” You grinned in agreement, attention immediately turning to the opening doors as they dinged, your floor appearing before you.
“After you.” Nico gestured, following closely behind as you both wandered to the end of the hall, your eyes glued to the patterned tiles beneath your feet, before a thought suddenly struck you, and with some urgency.
“Do you have Arnica?” You turned to Nico, your hand hovering under your own eye when he blinked in confusion, shaking his head, “For your eye? It helps with pain and bruising.”
“Uh…”
“Unless you want to keep your battle scar?” You teased lightly, unzipping your bag to pull out your keys, only to notice his still-close presence by your shoulder, even despite being outside your door.
You looked up, only to be met with a sheepish smile, one that you knew meant you’d caught him, but he shrugged, “The Arnica seems sensible.”
“Sensible?” You pushed your key through the door, turning the lock.
“It’s not much of a battle scar when a rubber disc wins.” He rationalised, walking through your doorway when you held it open for him and immediately gravitating towards the cat bed towards the far end of your apartment.
By the time you’d locked the door, shed your coat and placed your bag and the wine on the counter, he’d returned, still in his coat, beanie and backpack with a fond look on his face, your cat snuggled in his arms with no complaints of the attention except a rumbling, contented purr.
His eyes seemed to drop to your dress, and widen a little, and you knew there was absolutely no dodging his questions, not when he seemed to grow a little wary and dart his gaze to the bottle of wine on the counter.
“Did you have any Valentine’s plans today?” he asked lightly, briefly turning his attention back to the cat in his arms, most likely to give you a moment to steel yourself.
You hesitated, adjusting the straps on your dress. Nico was lovely, you knew that; he’d never once said or done anything to make you feel uncomfortable, but there was something more serious and vulnerable as to what you were about to say – lying wasn’t really in the cards, mostly because you knew he knew whatever had happened already hadn’t particularly ended well.
He’d caught you on the verge of tears in an elevator by yourself, clutching a bottle of wine, for fuck’s sake. You didn’t do that on Valentine’s day unless something had gone wrong.
“I did.” You breathed, quickly wiping down the counter surface and avoiding looking at him, trying to fight the embarrassment clawing its way up your throat, threatening to spill colour onto your cheeks.
You had nothing to be embarrassed about whatsoever.
He said nothing, just watched you carefully, keeping his distance. If you didn’t want to talk about it, you knew he wouldn’t even press the subject.
“I had a date earlier–” out of the corner of your eye, you saw his gaze cut to the clock on the wall: half-past six. “It didn’t go well.”
He nodded, treading carefully with his words, “How come?”
“He made some comments that I couldn’t really ignore, and when I asked him about it, y’know, to just clarify some things, he kicked off, I corrected him, he sulked, and then left halfway through when I went to the toilet.” You said in one breath, feeling your skin prickle with the reminder of the entire ordeal, scrubbing at a spot on the counter – sometimes grease just didn't budge.
There was the dull thud of paws against your floor, and you looked up to see Nico standing at the opposite side of the counter, an unreadable expression on his face. His brows were pulled together, but there was no telltale crease; his mouth was parted, but in a way that suggested he was a bit more hesitant at finding out what you had to say than a mortified scowl.
“What did he say?” His tone of voice was unwavering, but the slight edge to it sent your heart pounding a little harder nonetheless.
He had a sister, he was probably thinking of all the worst possible scenarios.
You felt your voice get caught in your throat, and you found yourself wishing you’d never even been this honest with him in the first place, because you felt…embarrassed, almost, to admit it fully, “He made a ‘my place or yours after this’ comment and I told him I didn’t want to sleep with him, so he left the first chance he got.” You said quietly, still making yourself busy with tidying the kitchen.
You inhaled deeply, spinning on your heel and fiddling with some of the utensils before you could gain the courage to even look in his direction. You didn’t want to see him pity you.
Except, when you did look up, you saw none of the pity you’d been expecting. In fact, his mouth was pressed firmly shut, and when he caught you looking at him, he – very insistently – muttered, “Well, he’s a fucking dick.”
You felt the corners of your mouth twitch up in some hint of a smile, “Thanks.”
Then, almost like it did in the elevator, the light seemed to catch the shiner under his eye, reminding you of the very reason he’d walked through your threshold in the first place, and you began to wander through the hallway, “I’ll go get the Arnica.”
He nodded in response, shucking his coat and draping it across the back of one of the stools, before bending down to stroke the cat nuzzling at his shins. You rounded the corner into your bathroom, rifling through the cupboard for the tube of cream, before making your way back into the living area, the tube outstretched in your hand.
He took it from you gently, leaning his elbows across the countertop as he read the information on the back of it silently.
“What about you?” You asked, and he looked up, “Any Valentine’s Day plans?”
He blinked, sighing, “I laid in bed for an hour longer than usual.” He said simply, “Then I went to a late morning skate, came home, watched some TV, went to the gym, and now I’m here. So, no, not really.” He inhaled, and you felt yourself grow a little uneasy when he started poking the swelling under his eye, looking into his phone to apply the cream, “You got any more plans?”
Your eyes darted to the bottle of wine, “I was gonna drink wine and watch Lord of the Rings.”
He breathed a startled laugh, “Sounds like a good plan.”
“It is.” You agreed, pausing to consider something, before taking a breath, “Do you wanna join me?”
It wasn’t something you’d never done with each other before; in fact, the two of you seemed to get along better without a cacophony of people interrupting (though that wasn’t much of a surprise), however there was something more delicate and meaningful in the knowledge of the day: Valentine’s Day was undoubtedly something that was weighing on both your minds. It was impossible not to – the posts on social media, the love hearts plastered in shop windows and the flowers everywhere didn’t let you forget it.
It just felt different, somehow.
Nico’s fingers faltered under his eye, and he looked up, brown eyes a little wider than usual, with his mouth parted in surprise. Evidently, he’d been thinking along similar lines to you, but Valentine’s Day wasn’t just about romance and love and whatnot: it was also just another day.
He blinked, eyes searching your face for regret in asking, or for some sign that he should turn down your offer, no matter how tantalising it was.
“It’s not gonna drink itself.” You joked lamely, watching as he slowly nodded, ducking his head down to mask the smile you knew was now on his face.
“Are you sure?” He mumbled, placing his phone on the counter and screwing the top back onto the cream. His eye was now shining a little, but it gave you inexplicable comfort to know that it was at least taken care of temporarily.
Even looking at it seemed to send a dull ache thrumming across your cheekbone.
“I’m sure.” 
Then: “Did you eat on that date?” He asked, raising a brow.
“No.”
He frowned, but showed nothing to say he was particularly shocked by that answer, and stood up from the stool very quickly – quick enough to startled the cat, and quick enough to have to catch the stool from falling over in his haste, “Do you maybe want to get something to eat, first? I know a good place a couple of blocks away.”
You stuttered, not entirely expecting such a spontaneous proposal, “Sure, I just—I should change first, though.”
His eyes dragged down your figure, and for the first time ever, you found yourself trying to regain control of the sudden blush that threatened to stain your cheeks, before he tutted, met your eyes, smiled and shook his head, dimples as clear as they’d ever been. There was something bright in his eye, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d assume there was some mischief lingering there – as though he knew exactly what you were refraining from doing under his gaze.
“Personally,” he started off slowly, “I think it’d be a waste of a beautiful dress.”
You sucked the inside of your cheek, looking down at your dress. It was beautiful, though arguably it had already been wasted on the day considering the hellish date experience, but maybe eating out with Nico would change that? 
“In that case…” You trailed off, grabbing your coat and slipping your shoes back on, “But–” You whirled around, Nico’s hand going suspiciously fast to cover his mouth, though the crinkles by his eyes certainly told you everything you needed to know, and arched an accusing brow in his direction, “I’m changing when we get back.”
“Fine by me.” He held up his hands in surrender, mouth pressed tightly together to prevent himself from laughing, and you rolled your eyes at his innocent act, but said nothing.
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lovelybrooke · 2 days
Text
Letters Never Sent (Yandere Malleus x Reader)
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A letter wrote by Malleus Draconia, never sent to the object of his desires. Why don't you open it up and see what's inside...
masterlist
---
Dear My Child of Man,
I am writing this letter with no intention of you receiving it. 
Maybe this is "silly" as you would describe it, but I find myself slowly losing the restraint on my emotions as the days go by. My heart fills with unfamiliar feelings as I think of you, mixing together into an ever present sense of desire that makes me near shameful. 
I find myself thinking of you always, from the moment I wake, to the moment I fall asleep. You seep your way into my dreams, where for but a moment I can relish in the fantasy that is you. I dream of your soft voice, your comforting gaze, your addicting presence. You are so captivating that I often forget I'm dreaming, until I awake with an aching feeling I've come to know as longing. 
I long for you, I've learned.
I long for your voice, for your gaze, for your presence. I long for every essence of your being to be directed towards me. Some may call me a fool, scoff my way and paint me a madman, but I am nothing without my love for you, so it bothers me none. I often wonder if you think of me as intensely as I do you. I have to admit it is exciting, the mere thought of you reciprocating my feelings warms me so. It is intoxicating, even as a fantasy, simply imagining a life with you is enough for me. Somedays, I imagine gifting you with an unending dream, one where it is just us, away from the rest of the world. Away from duty, and work, and anything else that could distract us from each other, from our love. We would be together and we would be happy until the end of your days, and even after you're gone, I would continue loving you. 
You were always so opposed to the idea, immortality. I remember the look on your face when you realized just how long I had lived, the sadness, the remorse, the pain. At that moment, it was not something I feared, more accurately not something I thought much about. It was not until I met you that it dawned upon me that at some point, you would leave this world, and that it would keep moving. Time would progress, people would grieve, but they would move on, plants would sprout and grow and wilt and eventually grow again, but I would remain stuck. Stuck with my dreams and fantasies. Stuck with the memory of you so present it would be like you never left in the first place. 
Even now, I fear what the world would be like without you. Not much fills me with fear, my Child of Man, but I've found myself scared lately. The thought of you leaving, of going back to your home, and never returning scares me. It is almost comical in a way, I find myself dreading the thought even while writing this. You should be proud, how easily you are able to terrify me is an excellent skill, one many would love to possess. 
You were my first true friend, did you know that? I have Lilia and Silver and Sebek, but I've always been treated as above them, as something untouchable. You were the first person to treat me like an equal, to bless me with the wonderful feeling of friendship. I often find myself racked with guilt, why should I desire more from you when you've already given me so much already? It is selfish, to seek out your love so desperately when I've already taken so much from you. You are my friend, and I should value our friendship above all. 
But that is why I fear, because my love for you goes beyond the boundaries of friendship. I would even say it goes beyond the boundaries of love. It is a longing so deep I wonder if I'll ever be the same again, all while knowing that I am too engrossed in the feeling that is you to ever go back. A longing so deep I yearn with desire unexplainable to man, desire so profound and raw that I am sure you have changed something within me. A longing so deep the closest word to describe it is obsession, but even obsession doesn't explain the hundreds of letters, all unset, pilling away, all centering you. 
Fear, love, what do distinctions matter if every single one of my thoughts center you. 
I have no desire to send this letter, my Child of Man, but I hope with every meeting, every passing day, every time we are together, you are able to feel the love I hold for you. I hope my longing, my devotion, my never ending, boundless obsession is clear to you, my love. 
Because I fear what will happen when I run out of paper.
---
A/n: here's to me hoping that this will break my writers block.
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isoobie · 3 days
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LOVE ME BACK › lee heeseung social media au
010 go shoot ur shot
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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ written part ━━ 🗯️ 1.1k
ring! the bell for the third period rang and you were off. making it straight to locker, getting the jersey and straight to the basketball courts. you shouted a quick ‘bye’ to your friends before rushing again.
it was when you arrived that you realised how full all the seats were. at the bottom, near the players, you heard screeches of excited girls cheering on for their favourite players while the top was full with intrigued students who just wanted to escape a mundane lunch break.
you squeezed your way through, finally make it to the entrance of the guys changing room while you felt your heart beat louder every second and just as you were about to knock the door, heeseung opens it to come in eye contact with you.
his hair, fluffy and messy with sweat dripping on the side of his face while his shirt was tightly clinging onto his muscles which you could clearly see through the white fabric— he had probably just finished practice, you thought. flushed, you avoid eye contact and look away only for him to say,
“you’re here? sorry, i didn’t know yet, wait a minute and i’ll show you the way to the seat i saved for you.” the smile on his face never left when he talked to you, which made you smile too.
you responded to him with a small nod and lifted your face up when you noticed he had gone back to the changing room. hand to your face, you felt them heat up from the smallest interaction with him— was this meant to be normal?
however, to distract your mind, you checked the time to realise that the match started in less than five minutes. ‘heeseung is probably taking a while’ you think to yourself before you start heading towards the main courts.
"yn, come i'll lead the way." he spoke from behind you, making you startled.
his tall physique stood next to you as you both walked together, side by side, one more inch closer and both of your hands would have been touching. you stopped yourself from thinking any further after you heard the loud cheers for heeseung's team.
the sight was intimidating for you— you remembered the fact that probably everyone in this hall knew that the two of you were 'dating' and expected something from the both of you. however, before you could tell heeseung about it you felt one of his arms wrap around your torso and lead you to your seat.
it was one of the front row seats were you saw yunjin waiting for you but before heeseung let you sit down, he bent down towards your ear and whispered, "i have a surprise too, if i win this match let's both give our surprises to one and other."
your face turned red at his comment, embarrassed but even more when he winked in you before leaving you with girls screaming at the interaction.
"even they know how cute you guys are, this is a sign yn."
"sign? he only did it to engage the crowd." you denied her words because you didn't want to admit the impact they had on you but before you could talk any further you realised the match had already begun.
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the match was intense— it was a tie with only three minutes remaining in the game, heeseung’s team only had to score another hoop and they would've win. everyone anxiously waited for the ball to go into the last hoop before it was game over.
in the background you heard endless screams and chants, while others nervously wondered if their school would win it for them or not but you sat there, arms linked with yunjin, beaming with confidence.
ever since you had started liking heeseung, you dragged your friends to all his basketball matches, whether or not it was a rehearsal or not. you could say that was the start of your infatuation because going to those matches was habitual— you didn't remember the last time you didn't go.
although your friends couldn't care less about how well heeseung played, you had already memorised his each and every step he took and analysed his whole technique before sitting in the seat you were in. the way he dribbled, the way he passed the ball to his teammates, the way he shouted their names all the way down to the way his face would light up every time his team scored a point showcasing his small dimple on his left cheek.
and before you knew it, you heard the loudest cheers and claps from the hall as heeseung's team celebrated while the opposing school had their faces painted with defeat.
"yes!" you quietly screamed to yourself, glad you trusted your gut instincts.
however, lost in a trance, you didn't seem to register the fact that heeseung stood right in front of you, with his jersey in his hand. the girls who were supporting him, squealed louder and the crowd was wilder than ever. embarrassed, you took it from his hand while you shoved the one you got for him to his chest.
"you got me one too?" his doe eyes glistened with curiosity.
"funny enough, that was your surprise." you both erupted into a fit of giggles just when you heard comments about the two of you from behind.
'kiss, kiss, kiss!'
'wear them, please!'
'my favourite couple!'
'twin jerseys oh my god!'
the two of you wore them just how the crowd asked you too but then the words, 'kiss each other' seemingly got louder and louder with every one waiting for your response. heeseung looked into your eyes seemingly waiting for your answer.
deep down, you had made a promise, you knew no kissing was allowed in this fake relationship and you still wanted it, when were you ever going to get a chance like this again? but breaking an oath? you were better than that, so instead of fuelling into your obsessions you were ready to turn them down.
"we can't kiss each other now sorr—"
it was like every thing happened in a flash. you swore one second ago you promised yourself you weren't going to kiss heeseung but his lips moulded against yours and you couldn't help but kiss him back harder.
his hand wrapped around your waist, as he pulled you deeper into his mouth. you vividly remembered the scent of your jersey on him and the taste of energy drinks lingering on his tongue.
"there you go, we kissed, are you all happy now?"
'no i'm the happiest one now, hee' you wished you could tell him right then and there.
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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ PREVIOUS ・ MASTERLIST ・ NEXT
note ━ are you guys happy now? ><
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dindjarindiaries · 7 hours
Text
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character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)
prompts: “You could have died, you know.” “I’m fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” and “I’m afraid of losing you, okay?”
main masterlist • prompt masterlist
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"Hey! Hey. Stay with me." There was a gentle tap on your cheek that smelled of leather and blaster fire. You groaned and blinked your eyes open, wincing as light caught the silver helmet that leaned over you. "Hey." The modulated voice was even softer that time. "You with me?"
You nodded, grunting as you sat up on your elbows. Din's hands continued to hold the sides of your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as his visor gave you a once-over.
"Easy." His command was gentle, rooted in nothing more than concern as his hands eased their way down to your shoulders. "That was a hell of a blow you took there."
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me." You exhaled and began to stand. "We need to get back to the ship."
Din stood with you, one hand on your back and the other holding tight to your hand. If you weren't still somewhat disoriented, your heart would've been pounding at his touch and his proximity. "Only if you're able."
You huffed and raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm fine." You gestured with your head in the direction of the ship. "Let's get going."
Din nodded, drawing his blaster as the two of you began to run to back to the ship. There was no doubt the two of you had already taken care of your attackers, but it never hurt to be cautious. Din, however, was even more on edge than usual, his free hand staying close to you as his visor checked on you more than it did on the way ahead.
It was perhaps the most nervous you had ever seen him.
Once you were on the ship, Din secured the hatch closed behind you, and he wasted no time heading to the cockpit to get you off the planet. You collapsed into the nearest chair and took a few breaths, running your hand over your forehead as a slight ache began to arise. You had known you wouldn't be able to walk away from a detonator blast without at least a little pain.
You were so distracted by these thoughts that you didn't even hear Din return until he was kneeling in front of you with the medpac. You lifted your head at the sight of it and clicked your tongue as you shook your head. "Din, that's really not necessary."
He didn't stop shuffling through the medpac as he answered. "I'd like to make sure." Din paused and glanced up at you. "Please."
You couldn't help giving in to the pure worry in his tone. Your lips stretched in a small smile as you nodded. He returned the gesture and lifted a handheld scanner, using it on various parts of your head, arms, and more to make sure you were free of any critical injures. It time and time again chimed in the negative.
You watched him as he worked, taking note of the way his gloved hand shook as he held the scanner. His free hand was on your knee, and his touch pulsated every once in a while as if he was grounding himself to you over and over again. You furrowed your brow, and once he had completed his scans, you couldn't help speaking on it.
"Din." You reached out for the sides of his helmet, encouraging him to look at you. You searched his visor before nodding firmly. "It's all right."
Din held a breath in his armored chest, his shoulders tensing as his hand on your knee tightened again. His visor fell to study his grasp on you, as if you would fall away if he let go or looked away. After a long pause, he spoke in a voice so strained that it pulled on each of your heartstrings. "You could have died, you know."
You softened even more at that, your thumbs running over his beskar cheeks as you tried to soothe him. "I’m fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about."
Din shook his helmet, lowering it until it was resting against the knee he wasn't still holding. His shoulders rose and fell with each unsteady breath he took. Your softness was exchanged for fierce worry of your own as you ran a hand over his helmet.
"Din." You utterance of his name was just above a whisper. He still remained where he was, practically curled up into you as he clung to you the best he could. "What is it?"
He didn't move even as he answered your question. "I'm afraid."
Your eyes widened at that. You had been convinced that there wasn't a single thing in the galaxy Din Djarin was actually afraid of. He had sure as hell proven that over your time together. "What are you so afraid of?"
Din sighed, lifting his helmet once again so that his visor could face you. His hand ran from your knee to your thigh as if the motion helped him to gain the strength to say the words he was holding so close to his chest. "I’m afraid of losing you, okay?"
You instantly fell apart at his vulnerability. Your brow relaxed as you held his helmet between your hands again and urged him to get closer. The way you moved to the end of the chair helped to close the distance, and soon, you were able to rest your forehead against his helmet. "You won't lose me, Din." You shook your head to emphasize your point. "Not now, not ever."
Din exhaled a troubled breath. "We don't know that." His gloved fingers drummed against your thigh as he fought for strength to go on. "I... have lost so much. It almost feels inevitable. I've put my head down and kept going, but..."
His breath caught in his throat. Your sympathy for him nearly made your eyes well with tears as you waited patiently for him to finish.
"If it were you..." One of Din's hands rose to hold your wrist in place. "I couldn't bear it. Not even the thought of it."
You tried your best to put on a genuine smile for him as you began to reassure him. "I'll be more careful, Din. Okay?" You kissed the center of his visor. "Thank you for sharing this with me. I know it's not easy."
Din huffed, and a wave of relief flowed through you at the evidence of the darkness starting to leave him. "Neither is jumping near a detonator to protect me."
You chuckled, shrugging as your face began to warm. "Well, you would've done the same for me."
Din tilted his helmet at that. "Yeah. In protective armor."
You closed your eyes and savored your closeness. "I guess you'll have to find me my own suit of armor, then."
Din's hand gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. "I'll be your armor."
You reopened your eyes, smiling at him before you wrapped your arms around his neck to embrace him. Your cheek rested upon the cloth around his neck and shoulders as you nodded to yourself. "Perfect."
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din djarin tag list: @yorksgirl @zenrobbins0021 @cyaredindjarin @cw80831 @maddiedrmr
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harmonicakai · 2 days
Text
I Bet on Losing Dogs
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Pairing: Beomgyu x Reader
Summary: Your insecurities get the best of you and you abandon your relationship with Beomgyu in the worst way possible.
Tropes: friends with benefits, angst, college AU, band AU
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: mentions of sex (mdni), emotional unavailability, slut shaming, no happy ending :-(
A/N: This is SAD because I am currently sad and also I didn’t bother to edit it. Apologies in advance to the Beomgyu biased readers bc I know this is not what anybody asked for </3
“You disappeared Like a faint ghost I bury it in the air What am I to you?” —Ghosting, TXT
You’re a horrible person.
Really, you should’ve broken things off with Beomgyu before they even began. It’s never a good idea to be friends with benefits with somebody you actually like. 
You do your best to distract yourself from confessing your love to him by sleeping with other guys. What started bright and electric between the two of you has fizzled with each encounter, his touch now feeling dull and hollow on your skin.
So, when you wake up next to him after a movie night, your stomach drops when you see the marks he’s left on your neck. Everybody will know what you get up to, if they haven’t already been gossiping about it behind your back.
There’s a numbness to the way you slip out of his apartment without so much as a goodbye. If you had woken him up, he would’ve noticed the sad look on your face and canceled all of his plans to spend the day making you feel better.
You don’t deserve his friendship, let alone his love, although he's only confessed the latter when he thinks you’re asleep and can’t hear him. Or, sometimes Huening Kai will let it slip how much Beomgyu talks about you when they’re away.
The walk home is brutal. You’re even wearing the jacket he’s refused to let you give back to him, knowing that if you had left it behind, he’d surely know something was wrong.
When he notices you’re gone, he shoots you a text about Merriam-Webster’s word of the day. Beomgyu has never cared for linguistics, but he knows you’re a real nerd about this kind of stuff. You decide not to reply.
Things would be much easier if you could just disappear out of his life, but the two of you have become so intertwined that it’s impossible. All of your friends are his friends.
Before him, you were just some quiet girl who shrunk away in the back of the classroom. After getting paired up and reading the poetry you managed to dream up, Beomgyu knew he had to get to know you more.
For most guys, the way he acts with you would come off as desperate. But he’s so earnest in his admiration for you and your talent that there’s simply no way he could possibly be faking it.
The first time you had gotten together was an honest mistake. You had been dumped, again, and he was there for you. It seems like he always is every time another man decides you aren’t worth his time.
It’s not that you don't love him. You do, as much as you’re able to. But you know that if you actually took things to the next level and they didn’t work out, it would break you entirely.
Still, is ghosting him without any sort of reason or explanation any better?
With finals in full swing, you know you’ve got the perfect excuse to be distant for a while. It’s the summertime that you’re worried about. Beomgyu has made sure to include you in every plan of his that he thinks you’d like, sometimes even arranging entire days around you in between his band’s schedules.
Really, the easiest way out is to start dating someone else. It always makes Beomgyu shrink further away from you to know that you will consistently pick someone else over him, although he’s secretly satisfied when things inevitably go sour. He hates knowing that the only thing that drives you into his arms is being rejected by somebody else, but he wants you too much to care.
The two of you talk about everything except how you feel about him, and he knows that he isn’t entitled to any of your emotions. You’ve made it clear from the start that you’re never going to be able to reciprocate in the way that he’d like for you to.
You weren’t always like this. At the start of college, you came in with the idea that you’d fall in love and have your happily ever after. But years of being used for your body and consequently dumped without reason has ripped your heart off your sleeve.
The way Beomgyu worships the ground you walk on makes no sense. You hate yourself. Maybe he just wants something to fix, and once you finally open up to him, he’ll leave you just like everybody else.
The thought makes no sense knowing him, but it’s the driving force in never confessing how you actually feel. So, you offer up yourself physically in the hopes that it’s enough, but it always leaves you feeling empty inside afterward. No amount of kisses or compliments will probably ever change that.
Among his bandmates, you’re closest to Yeonjun. He’s the only one who knows that you love Beomgyu just as much, maybe even more, than he loves you. 
It was revealed through a drunken confession at a frat party the weekend Beomgyu went home for his mom’s birthday, where you immediately got embarrassed and proceeded to go home with the first guy who gave you any sort of attention.
Meaningless sex is really the only way you can get off these days, but the act always leaves you feeling worse than feeling nothing at all with Beomgyu. But if you’re never going to be good enough, pure enough, to truly deserve him, then what’s the harm in another hook up?
You know that every time he finds out you've been with somebody else, you’re breaking his heart. It’s just that there’s so much love from him to go around that it never actually makes a difference in how he treats you. He has the biggest heart you’ve ever seen and you don’t even have the decency to not trample all over it.
You wonder if everybody else also agrees that you’re not good enough for him. They’re so nice whenever you’re around, but you’ve seen men turn into monsters behind your back. For your sake, you try not to think about anybody else's opinion besides Beomgyu’s, but even those thoughts weigh heavy on your shoulders.
After a few days of not returning his texts, he finally musters up the courage to call you. Before you can pick up, your phone sends him to voicemail, and you know that’ll be enough of a sign for him to leave you alone.
It isn’t until you run into him dropping off your poetry final in the writing department’s office that he truly sees what’s become of you.
You haven’t slept properly in days, and you barely eat. Your eyes are constantly puffy from crying all the time, and today is no different. Seeing you like this devastates him.
“Y/N,” he says, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper. He’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you from running away. His demand for an explanation on where you’ve been and why is stuck inside his throat, and instead, only sobs come out of his mouth.
Beomgyu never cries, and watching as he tries to hide the tears running down his face reminds you that he must be hurting just as much as you are. You want so badly to hold him and apologize, but all you do is stare.
Eventually, he manages to collect himself as much as he can, taking in the irreparable damage you’ve caused one last time.
“Here,” he says, digging in his backpack and handing you a stapled stack of papers. It’s his final project. “I’ll go print another. I want you to read these. Please, promise me you’ll read them.”
You accept the papers, your eyes skimming over the lines of poetry on the first page. It's about you. You flip through the rest of the stack. They're all about you.
It takes everything in you not to start crying too, although you’re so exhausted that you don’t think anything would even come out at this point.
“I promise,” you assure him, although neither of you know if you’re telling the truth.
—————-
Taglist: @orangesodafoam @deezbutz28 @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @stardustmooncakes @giaalorine @beomgyubabybear @niningtori @goquokka @csbenthusiast @moarmyjkhk @lizdevorak @sooberryworld @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9 @baekberrie
P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist! I struggle to keep up with different lists for individual members, but if you really don't want to be tagged on all of my works, just let me know and I will do my best to make a note <3
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mariclerc · 3 days
Text
A project of love | ls2
Summary: where you have to do a project with your crush and you try not to fall for him.
Warning: none.
a/n: requested and dedicated by @bananaleclerc I hope you like it!! And yes, I need a break from posting so much 😂😂
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You're hunched over a textbook at a library table, surrounded by scattered notes and a half-eaten granola bar. Just then Logan enters the library, a whirlwind of energy and a backpack overflowing with what looks like every microbiology textbook ever written.
He slammed his books down next to you. “Hey there, study buddy! Ready to conquer the microscopic world?”
You jump a little, startled. He flashes a dazzling smile. “Uh, yeah, hi Logan. I was just... uh... reviewing.” You say, trying to sound casual.
“Awesome! Me too. Though, to be honest, my brain feels like it's about to explode from all these bacteria names.” He pulls out a chair dramatically and sits down. “Did you get a chance to look at the project outline Professor Davies sent? Apparently, we're germ-fighting partners!”
Your stomach flips. Internally screaming, you manage a smile. “Yeah, I saw it. Partnered up, huh? Makes sense, I guess.”
“Definitely! We balance each other out, right? You with your quiet genius vibe, and me... well, I bring the enthusiasm.”
You laugh nervously, a blush creeping up your cheeks.
“I wouldn't call myself a genius, but hopefully, I can keep up with your... enthusiasm.”
“Oh, you will, trust me. So, what do you think? Should we start with some foundational stuff, or dive straight into the exciting world of, like, antibiotic resistance?” he grins.
You take a deep breath, trying to focus. “Maybe foundational stuff first? That way, we're both on the same page when we get to the more complex topics.”
”Sounds like a plan! But hey, don't worry about keeping up. Like I said, I'm basically a walking microbiology encyclopedia. Just ask away if you get lost.”
You nod, but your mind is racing. Trying to focus on the project feels impossible now that you're so close to him.
You clear your throat. “Okay, so... cell walls of bacteria... what were we talking about those in lecture?”
Logan launches into an explanation, peppered with jokes and pop culture references. You try to concentrate, but all you can think about is the way his eyes light up when he talks about something he's passionate about.
Later, after a productive study session, you're packing your things.
“So, should we meet again tomorrow? Same time, same place?”
You feel your heart pounding. “Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds good.”
“Great! Hey, you seem a little quiet today. Everything alright?” he asks softly.
You force a smile. “Yeah, no, I'm just... tired, I guess... All this studying.”
“Studying can be draining! But hey, at least we're suffering together, right?” He winks at you. “See you tomorrow, germ fighter!”
He flashes another smile and throws you a peace sign before walking off. You sigh, a mix of frustration and a secret thrill bubbling in your chest. Studying with Logan might be the most nerve-wracking, yet strangely fun, experience of your university career so far.
You watch him disappear into the library crowd, a bittersweet pang in your chest.
You mutter to yourself. “Germ fighter, huh? More like heartbreaker.”
You gather your things, a sudden wave of determination washing over you. You like Logan, a lot. But you can't let that distract you from the project. You take a deep breath and head out of the library, a plan forming in your mind.
***
The next day, you arrive at the study table a few minutes early. You've spent the morning making flashcards – not just on microbiology, but also on Logan's interests you've gleaned from his conversation snippets. Genetics? Check. Obsession with the movie "The Andromeda Strain"? Double check.
He bursts in, a little late and slightly out of breath.
“Sorry I'm late! Professor Davies got us sidetracked talking about her research on bioluminescent bacteria. Apparently, there's a kind that glows neon green – can you believe it?” He says hurriedly, making you laugh a little, just then he notices the flashcards on the table. “Whoa, flashcards? You serious?”
You nod smiling, not as nervously as yesterday. “Just thought they might help us remember all this complex stuff. Besides, I found some fun facts related to the topics we need to cover. Maybe a little trivia can keep things interesting?”
His eyes wide at your words. “You got fun facts about bacteria? Okay, you officially win coolest study partner ever! Shoot, let's hear one.”
You pick up a flashcard and grin. Maybe studying with Logan won't be so bad after all. Maybe you can find a way to balance your academic focus with a sprinkle of something more.
***
The following week becomes a whirlwind of flashcards, late-night library sessions fueled by takeout, and a slow, simmering tension between you and Logan. Your knowledge of bacteria trivia becomes legendary, earning you surprised yet impressed glances from Logan. He, in turn, starts bringing coffee (with extra whipped cream for you, which you secretly adore) and peppering the study sessions with personal anecdotes, revealing a surprisingly deep and caring side beneath his bubbly exterior.
One rainy afternoon, hunched over a microscope analyzing bacterial cultures, Logan asks. “Hey, you ever wonder what those bioluminescent bacteria actually look like in real life?”
You glance up, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his voice. “Not really.” you admit, “but Professor Davies said she has some under a special microscope in her lab. Maybe we could ask if we could take a peek after our next class?”
He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Perfect... We can make it a little research adventure.”
The stolen glance you share sparks a warmth in your chest, a silent acknowledgement that this is more than just a study session. The next day, after you convince a hesitant Professor Davies to let you glimpse the glowing bacteria, you find yourselves alone in the dimly lit lab.
As you peer through the microscope, Logan leans closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “Wow.” he whispers, “they're incredible.”
You hum in agreement, captivated by the tiny emerald lights dancing before your eyes. The silence stretches, charged with unspoken emotions. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his breath tickling your ear.
Suddenly, the lab door bursts open, revealing Professor Davies returning from her meeting. You and Logan jump apart, both cheeks flushing a deep red.
“Did you get to see them?” she asks cheerfully.
“Yes, Professor,” you stammer a little bit, “they're amazing!”
As the week progresses, the air between you crackles with a new awareness. You find yourself stealing glances at Logan as he talks, your heart skipping a beat when he laughs at one of your jokes.
During a particularly frustrating attempt at culturing E. coli, you blurt out, “Ugh, these bacteria are so stubborn!”
“Hey,” Logan says softly, placing a hand on yours, “we'll figure it out together... Like always.”
His touch sends a jolt through you, and you meet his gaze, your eyes locked in a silent conversation. In that moment, you both know this partnership has become something more, a budding connection waiting to bloom amidst the petri dishes and microscopes.
The shared look hangs heavy in the air, the frustration of the stubborn E. coli forgotten. Logan's hand lingers on yours, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. You can feel the warmth radiating from him, and a blush creeps up your neck.
“Maybe,” he starts, his voice a low rumble, “we should take a break from these little buggers. Grab some coffee, clear our heads?”
You nod mutely, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Stepping out of the lab, the rain has stopped, leaving the air fresh and clean. As you walk side-by-side, a comfortable silence settles between you. You steal a glance at Logan, his profile sharp against the setting sun.
Reaching the familiar coffee shop you frequent, you order your usual, Logan opting for his favorite with extra whipped cream (a detail that makes your stomach flutter with a strange mix of amusement and affection). Settling into a quiet corner booth, you both sip your drinks, the tension still simmering beneath the surface.
“Thanks for sticking with this project,” Logan says, his gaze fixed on you. “It wouldn't have been nearly as fun without you.”
A shy smile graces your lips. “It wouldn't have been so bad with you either.”
He leans closer, his eyes searching yours. The air crackles with unspoken desire. In a voice barely above a whisper, he asks, “Can I do something?”
Your breath catches in your throat. You nod hesitantly, a shiver running down your spine. He closes the distance between you, his hand cupping your cheek. His touch is soft, sending a jolt of electricity through you.
The kiss is tentative at first, a brush of lips that sends a wave of heat through your body. But then, something shifts. He deepens the kiss, his hand moving to cradle your head, tilting it for better access. You melt into him, the taste of coffee and something uniquely Logan swirling on your tongue.
The kiss is brief, broken by a gasp for air. He leans his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Your eyes flutter open to meet his, a goofy grin plastered across his face.
“Wow,” he breathes, a mixture of awe and amusement in his voice.
You can only manage a shaky smile, your heart overflowing with a mix of exhilaration and nervousness. The world seems to tilt on its axis, and for a moment, only you and Logan exist in this small corner of the coffee shop.
As you pull back and smile, a newfound confidence sparks within you... Maybe this partnership, born amidst bacteria and microscopes, could blossom into something more. And you, for one, are eager to see where it leads.
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sissylittlefeather · 2 days
Note
Hi Sissy! If it’s not too late, could you do a Fic of Elvis based on the song “Help Me Make It Through the Night?” Like Elvis and you know you’re not good for each other, but you can’t stay away. Can develop into smut but if you’d prefer not, that’s okay too! If it’s too late, I completely understand! Thank you! 😊
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@peaceloveelvis Hi! Definitely not too late! First of all, this is one of my most favorite songs. I actually have a series planned to go with this song later, so stay tuned. But also, I haven't written anything without smut in a LONG TIME. This one came out this way and I might revisit it to expand on the smut later if there's interest, but I kind of like it without it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this ficlet!
Help Me Make It Through the Night
Warnings: none really, cussing, mentions of sex
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Elvis has been a part of your life since you met him during his Timex special with Frank Sinatra. The only thing you did more than make love relentlessly was fight endlessly. The nights were hot, but the mornings never failed to conclude with both of you yelling and at least one of you crying. There was no end to the way you loved each other or the way you managed to drive each other insane. There was always something to fight about and you left each other every time swearing you'd never be together again. But somehow, you'd end up in the same place and before you knew it you were naked in an elevator or in his backseat or in a bathroom or a hotel bed in some sketchy by-the-hour kind of place. Even after he got married, you didn't stop. Your pattern of fucking and fighting stayed the same.
In 1969, though, you had a particularly spirited tryst that ended with both of you saying things you regretted almost instantly. But you were both too stubborn to admit it, so instead you threw a shoe at him and screamed at him to get out and he called you a name and swore he'd never end up in your bed again. This time, the pain you caused cut so deep that you both insisted you'd never give in again. It was over, for real this time. The hurt was too much to make the good times worth it.
So, you did what any self-respecting woman would do. You married someone else.
When he heard about it, he broke an end table and all the things sitting on it in a fit of rage and jealousy and something else he was afraid to admit.
On your wedding night, you cried yourself to sleep with your new husband snoring quietly next to you in the bed.
Then, in 1971, you find yourself walking down the street and come upon a loud and frantic crowd. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you look to see what all the commotion is about. The crowd parts like ill-meaning clouds and he looks up at just the wrong moment.
His blue eyes pierce you straight through to your soul, even from across the street. Something inside you jumps and your hand goes to your throat. Memories of every time you've ever been together slam into you like a freight train and you're somewhere between ecstasy and wanting to die. By the look on his face, you can tell he's experiencing something similar. Everything inside you is screaming at you to go to him, but you feel the cold little ring on your finger and know that you can't. You turn and walk away as quickly as you can. He fights to get away from the crowd around him, but by the time he does, you're gone.
******
You're pacing the floor of your living room when the phone rings. Even several hours later, you haven't recovered from your encounter. You pick the phone up aggressively, annoyed to be distracted by the call.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Presley would like you to meet him tonight at the Presidential Motel at 11pm." Your blood runs cold.
"Why?" The line clicks with no answer. He's left the ball in your court and you hate it. You won't meet him. You just won't. He's impossible.
But at 10:45pm you're in your car. You've spent the last several hours trying to remind yourself of all the reasons you hate him. You finally decide you're going to see him just to tell him that you don't care what he says; you were serious last time. This is not a thing anymore and it never will be again.
At 11:06pm, you sit in the parking lot of the motel, a battle raging inside you.
"This is stupid." You mutter, finally getting out of the car. At the desk, you ask which room Mr. John Burrows is staying in. The clerk tells you and you stomp towards his room getting more and more angry as you walk. The nerve of him to think he can just summon you like this.
You pound on the door with every ounce of rage your body can contain flowing through you. The door opens slowly and your heart skips. Why does he have to look so good?
"You came."
"What the fuck could you possibly want to say to me?! The last time you saw me you called me a whore and said you'd rather swallow a knife than see me again. So, whatever you have to-"
"I miss you."
"You... what?" He speaks again slowly and deliberately.
"I miss you." It feels like your stomach has fallen to your kneecaps. "I'm lonely, honey."
"Call your wife."
"Will ya just... no. I want you."
"Have you forgotten-"
"No, I haven't. And I'm sorry." He's never apologized to you before. You stand in stunned silence just outside the door.
"You're-"
"Sorry. Yes. Now, will you come in please?" You stand there completely lost. Finally, he grabs your arm and drags you into the room, shutting the door behind you.
"What the hell, Elvis?!" He pulls you close to him and presses his lips to yours. For a second, you melt into him. Then, you remember why you were mad and pull away angrily.
"No, I'm not-" He pulls you in again, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you more deeply this time. You fight to get away, but he holds you tightly. Eventually you're able to escape his grasp and you push him backwards. He goes to grab you again and you slap him across the face. Your hands go to your mouth in shock and he looks at you stunned.
"Oh god, I'm-"
"I guess I deserved that." He walks to the bed and sits down. "You actually hate me, don't you?"
You stand there for a few seconds before sitting down beside him on the bed.
"No. I don't. But we said this was done."
"I know. I'm just... I'm alone, honey. And I miss you so much it hurts worse than being with you." You look at him, but he won't meet your eyes. It comes to you that he must be pretty desperate to put himself in this position.
"You're alone?"
"You know how it gets for me. There's people everywhere, but I just... I miss you."
"Why me?" He rolls his eyes and looks at you finally.
"You gonna make me say it?"
"Yes. If you want me to stay here, then-"
"I love you. I've been in love with you since I met you. You're the only one I want when I feel like this and it's been so long-" You reach out and put your hand on his knee and he looks down at it, setting his on top of yours, gently wrapping his fingers around yours.
You're used to these vulnerable moments from him. They're what has brought you together over and over throughout the years. So when he breaks down and sobs, you pull him into your arms and hold him without thinking. Somehow you end up lying in the bed with him cuddled tightly against you, head on your chest. You stroke his hair and hum quietly. This is a familiar position for the two of you and you've missed it more than you care to admit.
Eventually, his breathing evens out and you realize he's fallen asleep. You kick your shoes off and snuggle in to spend the night. As angry as you were, you can't deny him what he needs because the truth is you love him too and you always have. You kiss his forehead and hold him tightly. You've missed this too.
******
In the morning, you make love and it's sweet and sensual and exactly what you've both been needing. And this time you don't fight. Somewhere in the year you were apart, you grew. The love that you have is more important than anything that might separate you.
And as you lay naked together, the world opens up for you. He talks about leaving his wife and you decide your husband will be better off without you.
Will it happen? Will you finally find a way to be together in a way that works for you both? You don't know.
But you made it through this night together. Something tells you that you can make it through anything now.
******
The end?
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badasbebi · 2 days
Text
home is where the heart is ➛ ♡
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✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
✦ summary: new to seoul in search of revitalizing opportunities, you're excited to see what the city has in store for you. however, after numerous awkward encounters with your (hot) neighbor and other unfortunate circumstances, you start to doubt whether this move was right for you.
✦ genre/au: fluff, smut MDNI!!, neighbor!au, accidentally turned into a coffeeshop!au as well. maybe some slight angst?
✦ word count: 14k
✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors. switch!bada and switch!reader?? sort of?? y/n has a toy collection that could probably contribute to the production of toy story 5.
✦ a/n: initially really liked this story. then, i sat on it for three days, and now I'm not really a fan of this? i also feel like i forgot to how to write? hope yall still enjoy though! i have a few ideas I'm rlly excited abt anyway <3
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The elevator lobby echoes with the shuffling of your feet and the thud of the cardboard box shifting within your grasp. Your new apartment complex seems to grow larger with each step, the space stretching endlessly as you aim for one of the metal doors. The box, marked “fragile,” presses into your arms, and beads of sweat drip down your forehead as you internally curse at yourself for your excessive overpacking and stubbornness. 
 You don’t know who or what made you believe you were capable of doing this move entirely by yourself, but you are now facing the consequences for past you's groundless self-confidence. As you take a step forward, your arms wobble under the strain, and the box slips precariously, threatening to escape your grasp. You tighten your grip, determined not to let the flimsy box defeat you. You were not going to let a box labeled fragile, of all things, be the reason for your demise. No way.
While attempting to steady yourself, you vaguely hear a loud ping reverberate throughout the lobby. Like the easily hyperfixated person you are, you pay no mind to it, focusing only on the task at hand. The last thing you need is to drop the box and have its contents shatter against the floor. You would never forgive yourself.
Just as you pause to readjust the box, the elevator door opens, and footsteps follow it. A tall, dark-haired woman with bangs stumbles into the opening, her phone in her hands. She stops in her tracks, clearly distracted, and you foolishly walk straight into her.
The box falls from your grasp, and as it plummets to the ground, you have an out-of-body experience. This was it. The box is going to hit the ground, and you will have lost this uphill battle. In slow motion, you watch the box tilt backward and forwards, suspended in midair for what seems like forever until, suddenly, you feel your hand wrap around it. As you blink away the stars clouding your vision, you register that you've saved the box from certain doom, just barely. A sigh of relief escapes your lips.
A triumphant smile graces your lips as you clutch the box tightly. It’s a bit more crumpled than before, but it is still very much in one piece (ignoring the fact that the fragile item inside the box was most definitely broken). Gravity was no match for your superior reflexes.
As you look up, your smile falters. Your eyes widen, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You just ran into the most beautiful woman you have ever seen, and she is staring at you. Her eyes, framed by thick-rimmed glasses, gaze at you, wide and unblinking. She looks at you as if you were the most embarrassing thing she has ever seen, and it takes all your willpower not to turn around and run back down the hall.
Her long, dyed black hair hangs in a braid down her shoulder. Her outfit consists of a plain, oversized black t-shirt, baggy pants, and a pair of worn nikes. The only pops of color are the bright yellow socks poking out from underneath the white shoes, and the streaks of blonde in her hair. 
"Oh, my god, I am so sorry!" you finally manage, stumbling over your words. "I should've been paying attention to where I was going."
The woman seems to snap out of her daze with a vigorous shake of her head. "No, no, it's fine. Don't worry about it," she responds with a small laugh. Her voice is light and melodic, and the sound makes your heart skip a beat. She glances down at her phone, and a slight frown creases her forehead. "I wasn't watching where I was going either."
You give a small, awkward chuckle in response, but you feel your nerves ease a little. She didn't seem weirded out, thank the stars. 
She glances down at the box, and her eyes widen as if she is just noticing its existence.
"Here, let me help you," she says as she effortlessly picks up and takes the box from your hands before you can even think to say no, a shiver running up your spine at the contact. 
"You really don't have to," you protest weakly, making much of an effort to actually stop her. 
"It's the least I can do after making you almost drop the box." She gives you a warm smile, and the butterflies in your stomach start dancing wildly. 
"Thank you." You return the smile, feeling the corners of your mouth twitch.
She turns on her heel and gestures to the elevator doors. "Where are you headed?" she asks, pressing the up button with her elbow.
"Uh, floor 8," you answer. She nods, and when the elevator doors open, the two of you step inside.
The combination of the woman's vanilla-scented perfume and elevator music does little to soothe your anxiety. You stand side-by-side in awkward silence. You shift uncomfortably, feeling your cheeks burn. What do you even say to a person this gorgeous? You clear your throat and will the courage to speak. You are an adult. You can talk to people. You got this! Just be casual. Easy peasy. Just say words! Just. say. them. 
"So, uh, is this your first time using the elevator?" You wince.
Maybe not those words.
"No, I usually use the stairs." She says with a giggle, seemingly unfazed by your pathetic attempt at conversation. "But, um, is this your first time here?"
You nod. "I just moved here today." You pause. "How did you know?"
"I just—haven't seen you here before," she says simply, looking you up and down with an expression you can't quite decipher. "I'm Bada, by the way."
"Bada," you repeat, testing out the name on your tongue. It sounds nice. You smile, and the tips of your ears grow hot. "I'm Y/N."
"Y/N." She returns your smile. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise." Your fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt. Your eyes wander over to the numbers lit up on the panel, and your face pales when you see that the two of you are already on the eighth floor. The elevator slowly comes to a stop, and you swallow thickly. "Well, I guess this is my stop," you say as you step into the hallway. 
"Did you want me to walk you to your apartment? This is actually the floor that I-" Bada starts, but a faint chime rings out before she can finish. She pulls her phone out, holding the box with one arm, and frowns at the screen.
"Ah, damn, I gotta go," she says. She looks back up at you and gives you a smile, although a little less bright. "I'm going to be late for a meeting. Do you think you can manage?"
You stare, momentarily perplexed by the kindness this random stranger is displaying towards you, but then you catch yourself, and smile.
You shake your head, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, I've got it. I'm a big girl," you reassure her. "Thank you for helping me, though."
She hands the box over, and your fingers brush again, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.
"Of course," she replies, smiling. "Anytime. It was nice meeting you."
"Yup."
You give each other a brief wave, and you watch the elevator doors slide shut. 
As you stare at the spot she was once at, you feel a pang of disappointment in your chest. You wish you could have gotten to know her better, but there was always another day. You lived in the same building, after all. Maybe you'd run into her again. 
You struggle with the box a bit more, and then you finally enter your apartment, the door clicking shut behind you.  
The first thing you do is drop the box in the entryway and walk over to the nearest wall. You lean your back against it, sliding down until your butt hits the ground. You sit there for a moment, gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling window across the room, trying to process everything that just happened. And, well, everything else that's been happening in your life. 
As the sun dips below the skyline, casting long shadows across the city, you find yourself finally having to wrestle with contrasting feelings of excitement over this fresh start, mingled with a weariness that's settled into your bones after a day of moving boxes and thinking of the uncertainty surrounding the days ahead of you. 
Just a month ago, you made the spontaneous decision to move to chase your dreams in Seoul, a country an entire ocean away from where you're from. Now you are in a new city, a new apartment, a potential new job, and you have mixed feelings. You're excited about the possibilities but also scared of the loneliness you know is inevitable. It is a loneliness that is necessary, though. You’ve spent too long stuck, moping about your unfortunate circumstances in the same mundane city you grew up in. You were aching for something new. As terrified as you are, you know that it’ll eventually feel worth it. It has to. 
In the meantime, your living space echoes with emptiness and awaits your touch. Exhausted but determined, you eventually drag yourself off the ground, the weight of the day catching up to you, but not stopping you.  
You scan the space in front of you, surrounded by the remnants of your previous life, now neatly packed into cardboard containers. The living room, cluttered with boxes marked "pictures," "books," and "memories," feels too overwhelming, so you decide to tackle the kitchen first. Igniting your last reserves of energy, you unpack your pots and pans as your thoughts drifts to old routines. As the clock ticks away and you find new sacred spots for your favorite items, your exhaustion begins to fade as you infuse the space with pieces of yourself, fueled by the realization that this is your sanctuary that you could call your own.  
By the time you empty your last box for the day, the apartment glows with your presence. It’s nowhere near finished, but you already feel as if your choices have been validated. You collapse onto your makeshift bed, and as you close your eyes, a smile plays on your lips. 
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 "I asked for three and three-quarter pumps of brown sugar. Is this really the best you can do?"
You stare at the cup sitting before you. Three and three-quarters, your ass. Who the hell was going to measure that? You glance up at the man before you. His face is contorted into a snarl as he glares at you, as if he expects an apology. It takes everything in you not to throw the steaming hot cup of coffee in his face.  
"Sir, I'm sorry, but I believe that this is indeed three and one half—i mean—three quarter pumps," you lie, attempting to brush past your stumble in the calmest voice possible. You try to muster a professional smile, but it's a difficult feat. 
"Bullshit. You clearly can't read a scale properly or hear. Just do it over, and make it right. Three and three QUARTERS," He huffs, shoving the cup in your direction.  
Your fists clench behind the counter. "Yes, sir," you mutter through gritted teeth, your politeness hanging by a thread.
You dump his original drink in the trash and grab a fresh cup. The man watches as you add the pumps, one by one, ensuring that each one is added correctly. It is, and instead of being grateful that you did not put three and three-quarters of spit in his cup, he rolls his eyes, mumbling to himself about younger generations being too lazy to do their jobs right the first time. He takes the cup from you, without saying thank you, and struts off. 
You sigh, shaking your head. You needed to get your blood pressure checked. 
"You okay?" a voice asks.
You turn around, coming face to face with your coworker, Mijoo. She stands before you, leaning against the counter, a sympathetic smile on her face.
You groan, running a hand over your face. "I don't know how much longer I can take this. How have you worked here for this long?" you reply, your voice muffled by your hands. 
Mijoo shrugs. "Honestly, you get used to it after a while. And on the rare occasion that you run into a genuinely nice customer, I promise they make up for the hundreds of shitty interactions." 
Without moving your hands from your face, you state, “That doesn't make me feel any better." 
Mijoo laughs, bright and bubbly, and pats your shoulder. "Don't worry, it'll get easier, I promise. You'll be desensitized in no time! Seriously, I feel nothing when people call me stupid, or an imbecile, or a bitch-"
You frown, dropping your hands. "Mijoo, that's awful." 
Mijoo sighs and walks around the counter to wrap her arm around your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Just don't stress about it, okay? You'll be fine. Plus, we've got each other!" 
You return the gesture, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You're right."
Mijoo has been your rock throughout this whole process. She was the one who interviewed you for this crappy job, and she was the one who showed you the ropes inside and outside of the cafe you work at. In addition to showing you her go-to spot in the cafe for mental breakdowns, she's shown you her favorite spots in Seoul. If it weren't for her, you're sure you'd be a complete and utter wreck.
"What would I do without you?" you ask.
Mijoo chuckles, squeezing you tighter. "Probably have a lot more panic attacks," she replies, causing the two of you to erupt in laughter.
The alarm on your phone blares, signaling that it's time for you to go home. You and Mijoo share a dejected glance. You hated leaving her alone at the shop, but she always insisted that you go home before the rush. You had no choice but to agree. 
"See you tomorrow," you tell her as you shrug on your jacket.
"Bright and early," she responds, throwing you a wave.
"Are you at least going home soon?"
She shakes her head. "Nah, I've got a few things I need to finish up, so I'll probably be here for a few more hours. I'll lock up."
You sigh. "Alright, but please text me when you get home."
She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Will do. Now, go. Go home and get some sleep, you deserve it."
You make your way to the entrance, giving Mijoo one last glance. She waves to you, a big grin on her face. When you open the door and step out, the bell above you chimes.
As the crisp air hits your face, you can feel the tension drain from your body. A content smile graces your lips, and you can feel your mood instantly improving. Even though your job was stressful, there was nothing quite like coming home after a long shift.
The sun has already begun to set, and the streets are bustling. People pass by you, not paying attention as they make their way home. Some have earphones in, while others are on their phones. You watch as couples and groups of friends chat and laugh as they make their way to whatever destination they have in mind. You feel a small pang of loneliness in your chest.
Your apartment isn't too far from your work, so you reach your destination quickly despite the heaviness in your heart. You're exhausted, and all you want to do is go home, cook dinner, and crawl into bed.
You ride the elevator to your floor, and you're reminded of the time you ran into Bada months ago. Her name echoed through your head every time you heard this elevator music, which was every day. You haven't seen her since that day, which wasn't really a surprise. It was a big building.
When the doors open, you make a beeline to your door, fishing your keys out of your pocket. As soon as you unlock your door, you practically skip inside. You immediately slip off your shoes and toss your jacket and keys onto the counter. You let out a satisfied sigh as you plop down on the couch, closing your eyes. You stay like that for a few moments, listening to the quiet hum of the air conditioner. After a few minutes, you hear your phone ping. Yelping, you sit up and pull it out of your pocket, hoping it's the text you've been anticipating from a landlord. Disappointment settles in the pit of your stomach when you see it's just a spam email. Groaning, you drop the phone onto the couch next to you.
You sit there, wallowing in your misery and loneliness. The quiet hum of the AC does little to soothe your worries.
You miss your friends, but the distance has made it hard for them to keep up with you, and vice versa. They all had lives, and jobs, and families. But you didn't. All you had was an empty apartment. And you had Mijoo, but you felt terrible relying on her for everything. 
As you’re ruminating on the pathetic reality of your social life, a loud bang comes from the wall behind you. You jump in shock and quickly turn to look at the source. You can barely make out a muffled, feminine voice, saying something that sounds like a curse. Seconds later, music starts playing through the walls. Loud, bass-heavy music. You sit up,  your hand hovering over the plaster, feeling perplexed. You haven't heard anyone in the apartment next to you since you moved in. You just assumed you were neighborless. Maybe someone new moved in? You haven't seen anyone with boxes or anything all week, though, and there's no way someone just managed to move in within the last 8 hours. 
A beat passes. You can feel the vibrations from the loud music rattling the walls. You frown, and walk over to the wall. You raise a hand and knock loudly, but it's useless. You sigh. There was no way you could relax with this noise.
You turn away from the wall, and pick your phone up in case you need to dial 119 during this confrontation. You make your way out into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind you and ignoring how your heart pounds in your ears. You walk to the door next to yours and, after a moment of hesitation, knock loudly. The music stops, and your heartbeat slows. The door remains closed, so you knock again, even harder this time.
After what feels like an eternity, the door finally swings open, revealing a woman you thought you'd never see again.
"Bada?" you question, bewildered.
"Hey," she replies, sounding equally surprised. She's wearing sweatpants and a black tank top, and her hair is in a messy ponytail. You can smell a faint hint of sweat. She's still gorgeous, though.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, trying to hide your shock. 
She looks behind her, as if to verify that she's in the correct place, then turns back around. "This is my apartment," she states, slowly, as if she's speaking to a child requiring stabilization. 
"Since when?" 
She laughs at this, and your heart flutters. "Since I've lived here. Which is a long time, considering this is the second year."
"No, I mean," you pause, searching for the right words. "I haven't seen you around? I mean, you're right next door. There's no way I could've missed you."
Her lips form an 'o' shape, and she nods. "Ah, well, I travel a lot for work so I haven't been home much. I was out of the country for a while."
You nod, "Oh. That makes sense. Well, see ya!"
You turn on your heel and make your way back towards your apartment, embarrassment beginning to flood through your body, when Bada's voice stops you.
"Hey, wait."
You turn around, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
She looks amused. "Are you going to tell me why you came knocking? Or did you just want to see me?"
Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn. "What? No, I'm sorry, I-"
She interrupts you with a laugh. "Relax, I'm joking."
You nod, feeling relieved. You weren't sure why this woman made you feel so incompetent. "Well, it’s the music. It's really loud, and-"
"Oh, shit," she cuts in, her eyes widening. "I'm sorry, I forgot. I'm not used to having neighbors. It's been a while since someone lived next door."
"It's totally fine, it's just...a bit much."
"Gotcha," she replies.
You stare at each other for a few seconds, and you can feel yourself begin to sweat. You clear your throat. "Well, I should probably go now."
She nods, a slight frown on her face. "Okay. See you around."
"See ya," you reply, awkwardly, before walking away.
When you reach your door, you let out a deep breath As annoyed and embarrassed as you were, seeing her again was a bit of a pleasant surprise. She seemed even more beautiful now than she did in the elevator. Your mind wanders back to the sleeveless shirt she had on. The hair bun that gave you a clear view of her neck, her jawline, her collarbones.
You shake the thought from your head and walk into your apartment. You needed to put yourself out there, soon. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a woman’s touch, and now you can barely look at an attractive woman without spiraling into a frenzy. 
You decide to go take a shower and call it an early night, hoping that a session with Rosalia 3000 will ease your mind. 
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You stand behind the counter, boredly wiping down the surfaces. It's a slow day, and Mijoo is off, finally using her vacation days. The cafe is mostly empty, save for a few students studying in the corner. You've already cleaned the entire place twice today, and the clock hasn't even struck 4 o'clock yet. It was days like these that you hated most. As much as you disliked angry customers, having to stand behind the counter doing nothing all day was enough to make you want to claw your eyes out.
You sigh, and lean back against the counter. You check your phone, just in case you missed any messages you’ve been waiting for. When the screen loads, the familiar white background greets you, with no new notifications.
You lock the screen, and stuff the device into the pocket of your apron. You look around the cafe, hoping to find something to occupy your mind. Your eyes land on the display cases of cakes on the far end of the counter, and an idea pops into your head.
You grab a bag of flour, sugar, eggs, milk, and baking powder from the storage room. You mix the ingredients together, and add a few teaspoons of vanilla extract. After about ten minutes, the batter is ready, and you scoop some into a pastry bag. You start to pipe the dough into shapes, filling the space. The familiar motion relaxes you, and you can feel the stress slowly leaving your body. There were only a select few people in the cafe who were permitted to contribute to the array of treats your cafe housed. Unfortunately, you weren’t one of those people, leaving you little time to partake in your passion in between busy shifts and tiring days. You needed this. 
Working quickly, you fill up the space within 30 minutes. After placing the cookies in the backoven, you start cleaning up the counter, throwing away any leftover bits of dough and tossing the used bowls and utensils into the sink. When you finish cleaning the area as best as you can, you turn back around, and your eyes widen as you realize you aren't alone.
Standing before you, his arms crossed, is the man with the ridiculous coffee order from a couple days ago. Yikes. 
"Um," you begin, trying to keep your voice from wavering."Can I help you?"
"I’ve been standing here for two minutes,” he begins, and you can hear the aggravation in his voice. "Do you not know how to do your job?"
"I-"
"So you’re not just a terrible barista, you’re a terrible worker too,” he spits out.“There are barely any people in this cafe and you can’t keep up?”
You clench your jaw, trying to keep the anger bubbling up inside of you at bay. "Sir, I apologize for not noticing you sooner, but I’ll be happy to assist you now."
"Yeah, I’m sure. Where’s your manager?”
Your eye twitches. “He isn’t here right now. I can assure you I’ll be able to help you with anything you need."
"Well do you have a way to contact him? A phone number? Zoom?”
You shake your head. "Sorry, sir. Our manager prefers that we only contact him when he is away if there’s an emergency.”
He releases a maniacal laugh, then immediately straightens his face. “Is this not an emergency? How is this not an emergency when the service in this shop is so fucked that you don’t see a customer standing in plain sight for ten minutes?” 
You blink. “I thought—never mind. Sir, again, I’m terribly sorry. If you’d like, I can give you this drink on the house and—"
He cuts you off. "I don't want a refund. I want better quality of service…”
He drones on, and at this point you tune him out. There was nothing you could do or say to satisfy him. Really, the irony of the situation just made you want to laugh. He was complaining about you wasting his time, and by doing so was wasting even more time. Did this man actually have a job other than being a menace to innocent baristas? Probably not. As you mindlessly watch the man flail his arms in exasperation, you hear the bell above the entrance ring. You’re about to glance over, when the man in front of you slams his palm on the counter, demanding your attention.
"I'm not done yet! I've spent the last fifty six minutes telling you everything you're doing wrong, and you've barely apologized. In fact—"
"I'm sorry, sir, but if you don’t calm down I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” You cut him off, your voice surprisingly steady.
"What?" His mouth hangs open.
You cross your arms. "You are disrupting the environment and harassing me.”
"Harassing?" He repeats, incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? You don’t have the authority to kick me out.”
You roll your eyes. "I'm not kicking you out. You are free to stay and order anything you'd like. If, however, you choose to continue to cause a scene, I'll have no choice but to have you escorted off the premises."
His eyes narrow, and this time he crosses his arms. "Yeah? And who’s gonna escort me?”
Customer service thrown out the window, you open your mouth to call him a prickly little bitch, but are interrupted by the sudden appearance of a hooded figure walking up beside him.
"Leave her alone," a familiar voice states. You look over, and realize the individual you’re looking at is Bada, who towers over the man beside her. 
The man scoffs, and looks her up and down. "Excuse me? Mind your own.”
"This is her cafe, and she has a right to kick you out if you're being disruptive."
"I'm not bothering anyone," the man retorts.
"Well, you’re bothering me. I’ve had to stand here and watch you squeal for the past few minutes and quite frankly it's starting to piss me off. If you don’t leave, I'll escort you out myself."
The man opens his mouth, presumably to spit some more venom, but the sight of Bada's clenched fists and murderous glare causes him to snap his mouth shut. He glares at the two of you for a moment, before turning on his heel and stalking off.
Both of you watch him leave. As the door closes behind him, you witness the door swing shut with surprising speed, smacking into Mr. Grumpington's rear end just as he reaches the threshold. Stumbling forward with a startled yelp, his briefcase flies out of his grasp, scattering papers across the sidewalk. 
Your hand flings up, over your mouth as you observe him stand slowly, his knees wobbling. A woman and her child pass by him with bewildered expressions, and you repress your laughter. Once he gathers himself, he shoots a withering glare in the direction of the café, and storms off. 
Old man finally gone, Bada turns back to you, her expression soft. "Sorry. I know I probably overstepped, but I saw the whole thing and I was worried he was going to hurt you.”
You sober up and shake your head, smiling slightly. "No, it's okay. He was being an asshole and I didn't know what to do with him. I'm glad you were here."
Bada returns your smile, and you're once again taken aback by her. “Anytime."
"I have cookies, if you'd like some," you offer, suddenly remembering the sweets baking in the oven. "On the house, for the trouble."
Bada's eyes light up. "I'd love some! And an iced latte, please.”
You nod. "Sure. Have a seat and I'll bring it out."
Bada takes a seat in a booth in the corner, and pulls out a laptop. As the coffee brews, you glance at her as she types and reads something on the screen, her expression concentrated. She purses her lips as as she focuses on whatever she’s looking at, and you find yourself staring.
She looks up, catching your eye. You blush, and spin around to face the display case, pretending to wipe it down. You grab the iced latte and a plate of cookies, and walk over to Bada.
"Thanks!" she says, smiling, and grabs a cookie. She takes a bite and hums in satisfaction.  
"Good, right?" you question, a smile tugging at your lips.
"So good!" she affirms, her cheeks full of the pastry. 
You break into a wide grin that you’re not sure is because of the woman’s cuteness, or the pride blooming in your chest. "Thanks. I made them." 
She raises her eyebrows. "Wait, really? Woah. I'm impressed."
Playing nonchalant, you shrug. "It's whatever."
She laughs. "It's not whatever! These would sell out in seconds if you displayed them in here," she remarks, grabbing another one. 
You're reminded of the call you're still waiting on, and try to dispel the anxiousness growing inside you. That’s the plan, just not here. You decide not to bring that up, though. You dont wanting to put a damper her spirits with your oversharing.
But you're not tired of hearing her praises. "You think?" 
"Definitely,” she confirms. "I'll come by every day to buy a dozen.”
"I'll hold you to it."
"Please do," she responds, and you swear you detect a hint of flirtation in her voice. Before you can retort, a notification pops up on her computer, and her eyes dart down. She sighs. 
"Everything alright?" you ask.
She nods, but her brows are furrowed. "Yeah. I'm just stressed. My job has been keeping me super busy lately."
You nod, and hesitate before asking, "If you don't mind me asking, what do you do?"
"Oh," she answers, her face clearing up. "I'm a dancer. And I choreograph for kpop groups."
Your eyes widen. "Whoa. That's cool."
"Thanks," she responds. She pauses for a moment, and she looks like she wants to say more. "It is, but...I don't know, sometimes these companies get on my nerves." She says with a tired laugh. 
You're a bit surprised by her confession, and the dejected look on her face makes your heart hurt. "What do you mean?"
She shrugs. "They're never quite satisfied with what we do and it sucks, you know? The only time I have fun is when I'm working with a company that doesn't treat their artists like shit."
You frown. "Yeah, I can't even begin to imagine how frustrating that is. I'm sorry." 
She smiles, looking sheepish. "No, I'm sorry for venting. It's been a long week."
You shake your head. "Don't apologize. You're saving me from having to clean the counter for the nth time today."
She smirks. "I thought the jerk from earlier was already doing that?"
"Oh god, please don't bring him up again." You groan, and she giggles in a way that makes your chest warm.
"Don't worry. He won't bother you anymore. I scared him away," she says, wiggling her eyebrows.
You laugh, and a comfortable silence falls between the two of you. You're about to ask her another question when you hear the bell on the door chime. You look over, and see a group of college students walking in. Your stomach drops. 
"Guess it's time for me to actually do my job,” you mutter. 
She nods. "What time do you get off? Maybe we could talk more after you're done? Walk home together?"
Walk home together? You should’ve put on a better perfume today. "Sure, but I'm gonna be here for another couple hours."
She slaps her hands together. “That’s actually perfect. I have a bunch of videos to review anyway. I'll be here." She gives you a small wave, and returns to her laptop. You walk away, unable to contain your grin.
And she is there. As the night drags on, as the rush comes in and finally calms, as the clock strikes 8, and as you close the doors.
You turn the keys, locking the door. You turn around, and she's there, waiting for you, laptop in hand.  She kicks a rock and it skitters away, hitting a lamppost. When she notices you watching, she offers a shy smile.
"Ready to go?" she asks.
"Sure am," You respond, and the two of you start heading down the street. 
The air is warm and the night sky is clear, the stars twinkling brightly. You glance over at her, and admire the way the streep lamps lights up her face. Her eyes are focused ahead, and you stare at her profile. She notices you staring, and turns her head, smiling softly.
"What's up?" she questions.
You shake your head and face forward, wanting to crawl in a hole at your slip-up. "Nothing." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks. This is silly. You've seen this woman plenty of times recently. Hell, you were just in the cafe together not even fifteen ago. But now, walking side-by-side with her, the air between you heavy, you can't help but feel a need to impress her. The idea that you could possibly have a friendship (or more?) with her makes your heart soar. It's silly, and maybe a bit childish, but you're not one to let a good feeling pass by. So, you take a chance, wanting to make this work. 
"So, I don't know much about you, but I'd love to," you begin, and her gaze darts towards you. "Tell me about yourself. You said you were a dancer, right?"
"Oh, yeah." She nods. "I started dancing when I was a kid. It was fun, but I didn't start taking it seriously until I was older. I started out doing covers, and eventually landed an audition with a company. That's how I got my foot in the door, and then I kept climbing and now I'm here."
"That's amazing," you tell her. "I'm guessing it's a lot of hard work?"
She nods. "Definitely. It's rewarding, though."
You want to know more, so you ask her more questions, and you follow into comfortable chatter as she tells you all about her life. She asks you a few questions too, some of which you avoid, like why you moved here, or why you're working at the cafe that you obviously dislike. But, overall, the conversation flows easily, and before you know it, the two of you are standing in front of your apartment building.
As the two of you approach the lobby, Bada speaks. "We should do this more often."
"Which part? Walking home together, or me talking your ear off about the ending of Twenty-Five Twenty-One?"
"Mostly the first part. Although I didn't mind hearing you talk about that kdrama. The lead actress is really hot."
You snort, and she follows suit. "You know, I'm glad you came into the cafe today," you confess.
"Me too." She responds, and the two of you stop in front of your door. You're unsure of what to say next, but Bada steps forward, and you tense. Was this really happening?
But then she's inching away, her hands tucked into her pockets. You relax, and ignore the slight disappointment built up in your chest. Duh, you think, shaking your head. What were you expecting?
"Well, have a good night." You say, offering her a small smile.
"You too," she says. "I'll see you soon."
She waves, and you watch her go, before unlocking the door and walking into the apartment. You close your door behind you, and lean against it, releasing a breath.
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Over the next week, you see Bada in passing in the hallway multiple times. Each time she sees you, she stops and says hi, and you talk for a bit. She stops by the cafe a few times too, although she hasn't been able to walk home with you again yet, having a late-night schedule nearly everyday.
But each encounter makes your heart race, and by the end of the week, you feel like your chest might explode. You're not sure the attraction is reciprocated, but even if it is, would she actually be interested in someone like you? Someone who had to deal with a shitty customer service job, was running increasingly low on money, had a terrible sleep schedule, and was depending on one call to determine whether or not this move was a mistake? Probably not. The videos you've been watching for the past hour have made that evident. 
Curiosity got the best of you, and you finally looked up Bada about an hour ago. It didn't take long for her to pop up. A ton of information about her was available, from her birthday, to her favorite food, to her shoe size. You mostly ignored that stuff, opting to watch her choreography videos instead. A horrible mistake. She was undeniably talented and captivating, and watching her perform made you feel a million things all at once, the most powerful being desire, much to your dismay. Why was that woman always humping the floor? 
After watching the last video, which was a choreography of a popular girl group's song, you shut your computer and lean back on the couch. You stare at the wall separating your apartment from hers, wondering  what she's doing right now. Is she getting ready for bed? Did she have a busy day? Is she thinking of you, like how you're thinking of her? Doubtful, but the thought makes your stomach flip. 
A notification from your phone interrupts your pity party. You assume it's a notification about a delivery you have coming, but you're surprised to see a text from one of your hometown friends. 
Jasmine: heyyy how is everything going over there!
Jasmine: opened up your dream bakery yet?
Not this. You really, really do not want to get into this right now, especially with your friends and family from home, who had high expectations for you. But they were your friends, and you didn't want to keep them in the dark. You take a deep breath, and respond.
y/n: almost. just working at a cafe while I'm getting everything settled.
You wait a few minutes, but she doesn't respond. You sigh. Another thing you miss from home—texting your friends in real time. It would have been nice to be able to vent.
You're about to stand up when you get a response.
Jasmine: oh okay! just be careful not to fall into the same trap you were in here. I don't want you working yourself to death :(
y/n: i won't.
Jasmine: good.
Jasmine: anyway, met anybody cute out there yet?
You stare at the screen, and you can't help but smile.
y/n: yes.
Jasmine: OMG!!!
Jasmine: details plz!
You laugh.
y/n: it's none of your business, lol.
Jasmine: come ooooon y/n!
y/n: nope! I don't want to jinx anything
Jasmine: fine. just keep me updated.
You're about to respond, but a knock at your front door startles you. You set your phone down, and walk over to the door, looking through the peephole, and speak of the devil: It's Bada.
You quickly comb a hand through your hair and rub the sleep out of your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you open the door, trying not to look flustered.
"Hey!" you greet.
"Hi." She responds, and you immediately recognize that something is decidedly off. She looks tense. Her brows are furrowed, and she’s avoiding eye contact, shifting her weight from side to side awkwardly. You see her clutching something behind her back, but cannot make out what it is. 
"Um, are you okay?" you ask hesitantly, half-ready to grab the (tall and grown) woman to pull her inside your apartment to protect her from potential imminent dangers.
"Yeah. I just-um. I think your package was delivered to the wrong address?" She pulls her arm from behind her back, and hands you a large box with it flipped to the bottom. "Sorry."
"Oh!" you take the package, are immediately met with the recipient name printed in bold font that is, of course, addressed to you. "Thank you. Sorry about that."
"No worries." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I'll, uh, see you around."
"Yeah, definitely."
She walks away, and you're left standing in the doorway, a bit confused. That was...weird. You step back inside, shutting the door. You set the package down on the coffee table, and just as you are about to rip it open, you make eye contact with the imagery on the front of the package. 
Your eyes widen. Oh no. How could you have forgotten?
There, plastered across the front of the box, was a clear picture of a very suggestive toy. You read the words below the image.
"Battery-Operated Love: Your Guide To The Best Vibrators, Toys, and Dildos!"
You stare. You blink. You look around, as if someone is playing a prank on you. You stare some more. 
Then, you hurriedly reach for the throw pillow sitting next to you on the couch, and scream into it.
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You sigh, tapping your foot against the floor to the rhythm of humming washers. It's early morning, the sun barely peeking out, and you're currently in the laundry room in your building, waiting for your clothes to dry.
It's been a few days since your package fiasco, and Bada hasn't made another appearance. You'd say she's trying to avoid you, but in reality, you’re the one going out of your way to steer clear of her potential judgments. You've even taken to staying in late, leaving the apartment only to go to work, where you've adjusted your schedule to further avoid the woman in case she tried to stop by. You acknowledge the fact that you're probably overreacting. It wasn't that big of a deal. You're a grown woman with needs! And you weren't going to let those needs fester when you had such an accessible way of gratifying them. You couldn't let the hard work that ancient physicians put into developing such helpful products go to waste. You love to support small businesses!
Although, you weren’t a big fan of the one you ordered from this time. So much for "discreet packaging.”
You stand up, deciding to grab a drink from the vending machine outside to cool your nerves. You reach the lobby, and walk towards the corner, where the row of machines are lined up in front of windows that belong to the gym. You insert your coins, press a few buttons, and wait for your drink. The vending machine is old, and the whirring and clanging of the dispensing mechanism are loud, so it takes longer than usual.
You glance around as you wait, and your eyes finally settle on the windows. You squint, noticing a familiar silhouette performing a series of exercises.
Bada is inside, doing pull-ups. Her back is to you, and her hair is pulled into a ponytail. She's wearing a loose t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and shorts. Sweat drips from her forehead and down her back, and the muscles in her arms flex and move with each lift.
You feel your throat dry up. The machine spits out the can, and you grab it. You hesitate for a moment, and then step forward, pushing open the glass door leading into the gym as if you were moving on autopilot. You don't know what you're doing.
"Hey!" you greet.
She turns around, eyes wide, and lowers herself onto the ground. "Hi."
"How are you?" you ask.
"Good! Just finishing up my workout," she answers, reaching for the towel draped on a bench beside her.
"Cool," you answer, trying not to focus on the way her chest heaves as she catches her breath.
"What about you? Haven't seen you around lately," she says, wiping the sweat from her neck.
"I've been busy," you lie, weakly holding up your can. "Just got something from the vending machine while I'm waiting for my laundry. Probably gonna head out and run some errands after this.”
"Ah, okay." She nods, and reaches for a water bottle. You watch her tilt her head back, gulping down the liquid, her Adam's apple bobbing as she swallows. Your eyes travel to her neck, and her collarbone, which is exposed, and the droplets of sweat that rest on her skin. You watch her throat move, and suddenly, your mind is filled with images of her lips trailing down your neck, nipping at your throat, and you're overcome with desire. 
You swallow, then continue rambling, trying to rid yourself of your debauched thinking. "Yup, heading over to Itaewon with a friend tonight. Probably won't be back home until tomorrow morning!" you say with the projection of a teenage boy who had his first drink yesterday. You weren't lying this time, though. After the incident, you were humbled into a state of reflection. You wanted to try putting yourself out there, and potentially find gratification beyond something that was battery-powered. Mijoo was ecstatic to hear this, and immediately sent you a list of clubs she and her friends frequented. 
"Sounds fun." She takes another sip, and sets the bottle down. "Hope you have a good time. Actually, do you have time to do me a favor before you get back to your laundry?"
"What kind of favor?" you ask, a bit suspicious.
"Can you spot me?" she asks, and you're confused for a moment. She gestures towards a padded spot on the floor. "I was gonna do some more reps, and I’d really appreciate it if you could help me—um—make sure my form was right. f you don't have time, that's fine, I can ask someone else."
"No!" you answer. She jerks her head back in confusion, and you flush at your stumble. "No, I have time. I can spot you."
"Awesome! Thanks so much," she says with her signature heartwarming grin. "I'll just do a couple of sets. It shouldn't take too long.”
”I should warn you that I don’t know anything about weightlifting. Or strength exercises. Or cardio—”
"Not a problem. I’ll just do sit-ups." She reassures as she sits on the floor, and lies down.
“Oh. Okay,” you felt like you were in grade school. "Are we counting or not counting?"
"Um, counting would be helpful," she says.
You nod, and kneel beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. You feel her tense for a second, but are quickly distracted trying not to focus on the way the damp fabric of her shirt sticks to her skin. "Okay. Ready when you are."
You count, and with each sit-up, the muscles in her arms flex, her jaw tightens, and her breathing becomes labored. You're in such close proximity to her, her arm brushes against yours every time she goes down. The heat radiating from her body is palpable, and you feel yourself begin to sweat, the air becoming hot.
When she's finished, she falls back onto the mat, and you release the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. She gets up, and wipes the sweat from her forehead.
"Well, that was fun," she says, standing up to grab her stuff. 
"Yeah, it sure was," you murmer, trying to hide the fact that you're completely out of breath despite doing nothing but count. You stand up, and follow her out the door. "See you later, Bada."
Bada waves, looking you over once more in a manner that makes your insides twist, before turning around a speed-walking toward the elevators. 
You take a minute to breathe and head back into the laundry room, where your clothes are ready. Instead of grabbing them, you collapse into one of the cheap folding chairs in the corner of the room. Your clothes are probably tinier at this point, but you can't bring yourself to move. Why did you even walk in there in the first place? You knew well that you weren’t capable of acting normal in front of that woman.
You remind yourself of your plans with Mijoo tonight. A club. In the city. With pretty people. Where alcohol was served.
You take a deep breath, and stand up, taking your clothes and throwing them in your basket.
You'd be fine. 
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An ear-splitting wail from the girl next to you almost makes you drop your drink.
"I CAN'T DO THIS SHIT ANYMORE!" the woman screeches, and Mijoo, who is currently attempting to console her, rolls her eyes.
"Honey, please, don't make a scene."
"But it's true! I'm a loser, and I'm going to die alone! I might as well stop trying!”
"No, you're not, just stop drinking," Mijoo responds, her voice a few octaves higher in annoyance. She glances at you, and rolls her eyes.
The two of you are at the gay bar in Itaewon, and after an hour and a half, it seems that the night is coming to an end. Mijoo's friend, Naeun, had a mental breakdown after spotting her ex-girlfriend making out with the woman she told her not to worry about. After that, the mood was completely killed. Naeun feigned nonchalance at first.That relationship was seven months ago, she said. I’ve moved on, she said. I’ve had better, she said. it was almost convincing, until you saw her gulp down three shots at a pace you did not know was humanly possible.
And now…
"It's like, you don't listen to anything I say," Naeun sniffles, and you genuinely feel bad for her. You give her a gentle pat on the back, and she turns to hug you.
"I know, I'm a horrible friend or whatever. Let's just go home and eat ice cream or something," Mijoo sighs, and the two of you help Naeun stand.
"Yes. Thank you. You guys are the best," she whimpers. "I don't deserve you."
"Yes, you do," Mijoo assures.
"Yeah, it's all good," you chime in. "Let's just get you home. I think you've had enough alcohol for the next week. Or year."
You and Mijoo drag her out of the bar and into the streets of Itaewon. It's dark, and the neon lights illuminate the sidewalks, where drunk patrons stumble through. You're a little buzzed, and Naeun's deadweight is difficult to carry. Somehow, you manage to get her onto the subway, and inside your building, which is closest. When you reach your front door, you can't help but glance over at Bada's apartment, and are surprised to see a light peeking through the crack between the door and the frame.
"You live here?" Naeun slurs, and you nod, opening the door and dragging her in.
"We'll put her on the couch. Do you mind if we stay over?" Mijoo suggests.
"Not at all," you agree, and the two of you set her down. She groans, and closes her eyes, stretching across your couch in a starfish position. Her dress has risen all the way up to her stomach, but she doesn’t seem to care, You grimace at the sight. "Poor thing."
"She'll be fine," Mijoo says, waving her off. "Come on, I’m starving,"
You follow her into your kitchen and lean against the counter as she reaches into your fridge to pours herself a drink. So much for ice cream. 
"Sorry our plans fell through," she apologizes, and you shrug.
"It's not a big deal. Shit happens. Besides, I had fun even though we were only out for, like, five seconds," you answer.
She takes a sip of the liquid in her cup. “We can try again next week? I'll make sure that Naeun is mentally stable next time."
"I don’t know. That doesn’t sound as fun,” you joke, and she grins.
"You’re so right,” she pauses as she opens your fridge back up, and gasps. "Ooh, y/n, can I have one of these?"
"One of what?" you ask, peering over her shoulder, only to find her holding cupcake that you'd made earlier. "Oh, yeah, sure. Go ahead."
She rips off the wrapper, and takes a bite, moaning. "Wow, this is—"
A loud thump sounds from the other side of the wall, and the two of you turn your heads, eyes wide.
"Is that your neighbor?" Mijoo whispers, and the two of you stand still, listening intently. There are a few more thumps, and then a sharp gasp.
"I think she's fucking someone," Mijoo whispers, and then a moan sounds from the other side, followed by a string of curse words, and the bed frame slams against the wall, a rhythmic knocking echoing throughout the apartment.
Naeun sits up from where she's sitting on the couch, and mechanically states, "I need to call her."
"Don't you dare," Mijoo growls, aggressively pointing a finger at the pitiful girl. Naeun whines, and collapses back onto the couch, and you continue to stare at the wall with wide eyes. This couldn't be happening.
You're quiet, listening to the creeks of the bed, the groans, the panting, the curses, and, despite the situation, you can’t help but feel…curious. You’d usually be irked by this situation, reminded of the particularly horrific nights you’d have when you lived with a roommate in your younger years. As made evident by the fluttering in your stomach (and in other parts of your body) you, this was not that. Not even close. 
Mijoo laughs. "Oh my god, does this usually happen?"
You snap out of your stupor. "Uh, no, actually. She's usually pretty quiet."
"Really?"
"Yeah. And besides, she's sweet, so it's kind of weird hearing this, but, uh, it's whatever," you reply, attempting to ignore a squeal that vaguely resembles Bada's name.
The bed's movements pick up speed, and the sounds become louder.
"Oh my god," Mijoo murmurs, covering her ears. Naeun starts crying again.
"She's gonna fuck her to death," Naeun sobs, and then the two of you can’t help but burst into laughter. You walk over to the living room, and pat her on the back.
"Come on, let's get you to sleep," you say, helping her up. "You can have the bed. Mijoo and I will take the couch."
"Thank you, I love you both so much," she blubbers, and you drag her into the bedroom, tucking her into the bed.
"We're gonna stay in the living room, so holler if you need us, okay?" you tell her, and she nods.
"I love you guys," she slurs, and then passes out, mouth wide open. 
"She’s so dramatic," Mijoo cackles as you close the door. 
You and Mijoo get ready to go to sleep, and soon enough the obscene noises from next door are gone. But, as you fall asleep on the couch, they still ring in your head.
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"I'm so sorry for the way I acted last night." Naeun apologizes, a pout on her face. You wave her off. “Don't worry, you're good. At least you gave us some entertainment while you were at it. Are you okay, though?"
She shrugs, adjusting the duffle bag on her shoulder. "Yeah. I mean, it was a pretty big blow, but I'll get over it. She's not worth the tears."
"Atta girl," Mijoo cooes, patting Naeun's head. She turns to you, and smiles. "Thanks for letting us stay over, y/n."
You open your front door, and wave. "Yeah, of course. I'll see you guys later."
Just as the two girls step out, the door to the apartment next to yours opens. You all look to the side, and notice a disheveled woman with blonde hair and bright red lipstick exiting into the hallway. You and Mijoo exchange glances as the woman's eyes meet yours. She gives a small, awkward smile when she notices the three of you, and then bows before hurrying down the hallway.
"Was that your neighbor?" Mijoo asks, and you shake your head. 
The actual neighbor in question steps into the hallway, and the three of you watch her with wide eyes. She's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, long hair cascading down her back. 
Bewildered by your stares, she looks at the three of you with confusion.
"Hello," she greets, bowing, and the three of you bow back. "How are you?"
Naeun's eyes become the size of saucers. "Y-you're Bad—"
"Good!" Mijoo interrupts, and gives a wide, forced smile. "We're all doing well."
"That's good," Bada replies, giving a polite nod. She looks at you, and the corners of her lips quirk upwards. "Hi, y/n. Nice seeing you."
After last night’s noises, her politeness makes you want to laugh. or scream. or cry. You return the smile, gripping your doorknob until your knuckles turn white. "Yeah, nice seeing you, too."
She turns her attention back to the other two, waves, then walks off.
Mijoo and Naeun immediately whip around to face you.
"Your neighbor is Bada Lee?!" Naeun screeches.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Mijoo yells, and you step back.
"Bye guys!" you say, closing the door on the two of them.
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Shortly before closing, the bell rings.
"Hello!" you chirp. "Welcome to—oh, hello!"
"Hey, y/n." Bada waves.
"Hey," you say, even though the two of you already said hello. "How are you?"
"Good, and you?"
"Great, thanks," she responds, staying put in front of the door. "Uh, I actually came here to, um, ask if you wanted to walk home together? I was just passing by, and I thought maybe we could just, like, walk back. At the same time. Since we both have to, um, go there. To our respective homes. I know it's been a while, but I thought it'd be fun. I-if you want some company, I mean. Sorry, I'll leave if you want me to, I'm just—"
"Bada," you interrupt, and she looks up, her eyes meeting yours. "I'd love to."
She blinks. "You would?"
The look of surprise on her face almost startles you back into hesitation. Why wouldn’t you want to spend time with the woman? Even with all the moments you’ve wanted to bury yourself in a hole because of your embarrassment, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever say no. 
Untying your apron from around your waist, you nod. "Yeah! Just give me a second to grab my stuff."
"Okay." She grins. "Thanks."
You pick up your belongings, clock out, and the two of you stepping outside. You lock the doors, and begin to walk towards your building. 
"So, how was your night yesterday?" Bada asks, and you almost trip at the reminder of yesterday’s events. 
"Uh, it was fine," you reply, clearing your throat. "What about yours?"
"Oh, it was, um, good." She nods.
I’m sure it was, you think. You look at the ground, biting the inside of your cheek. "That's good."
The two of you walk in silence, and now you feel awkward. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. The only sounds surrounding you are of the rustling of the trees, and the occasional passing car.
"Was that your girlfriend?" she suddenly blurts out, and you whip your head around to look at her.
"Huh?"
"Last night, when I ran into the three of you in the hallway. Were one of those girls your girlfriend? Or…”
"No, neither of them," you reply, shaking your head. "One of them is Mijoo, the coworker I told you about, and her friend, Naeun. They came over after we went to a bar."
"Ah." She nods, looking at the sidewalk, and your eyes narrow. You swear you see a small smile on her face. 
"What about your girl?" you ask, and her head shoots up.
"My girl?"
"Yeah. Was the girl that was over last night your girlfriend?"
"Oh, no, no, she wasn't," she quickly answers.
"Hm," you hum. And then, your next words spill from your mouth before you can even process them. "I would've thought so with all of the…screaming that was going on."
"W-what?" she stammers, freezing in her tracks.
"Uh," you say, stopping as well. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."
"Did you hear...us?" she asks, her voice quiet, and you can't bear to look at her. Why did you speak up? You didn’t want her to feel embarrassed. Or worse, think of you as a creep for listening in. 
"Yes," you murmur, and she lets out a groan, her face turning a shade of pink.
"I am so, so sorry. I thought you were gone. Oh my god, that is so embarrassing." She buries her face in her hands, and despite your previous regrets, you bite your lip to suppress a giggle. Her reaction was too cute. 
"It's okay, really," you assure, and she drops her hands, still refusing to look at you. You smile, and continue walking. "Don't worry about it."
"But that's so embarrassing," she whines, and you laugh again. 
"You were clearly having a good time."
"Yeah, but I didn't want you to hear," she sighs, and you pat her back.
"Well, at least we're even now."
"What do you mean?" she asks, puzzled.
Uh oh. She probably already forgot about the delivery situation, and you just brought it up for no reason. What the fuck was up with you right now? You were just saying anything. 
"Oh, nevermind. Forget about it," you respond, waving her off.
"What was it, though? I haven't heard you…uh…do anything before," she protests, and you shrug, trying to brush her off.
"Nope! Forget about it! I confused you with someone else," you rush out, picking up your pace as you make eye contact with your building.
"You have another neighbor that could’ve potentially heard you having sex?" she replies, clearly confused, as she jogs slightly to catch up.
"No idea!" you sing, and open the door, stepping into the lobby.
"This makes no sense. Now I’m not gonna stop asking," she tells you, and you can't help but laugh. 
"And I'm not going to stop avoiding the question."
"Y/n!"
You enter the elevator, and press the button to the 8th floor, watching her enter. You give a polite smile, and she sighs, giving up.
"Fine," she finishes with a pout. 
The elevator goes up, and the two of you stand in comfortable silence. You don't know if it's because of the woman's earlier embarrassment, but something about tonight definitely has you feeling a little bold and ready to tease. 
"Hey," you pipe up, and she looks over at you. "You guys were pretty loud."
"Shut up," she grumbles, and you can't help but smirk, watching her glare at the floor.
"My friends almost called the police. It sounded like you were committing murder."
"What?" she exclaims, and then groans. "Oh my god, don't."
"And I almost let them. I was like, woah. I knew this woman couldn't be entirely perfect and had to be keeping some sort of deep, dark, secret. But a serial killer? I would've never thought. Turns out you just had a serial moaner in there, I guess."
"Please stop."
"I mean, what were you doing to that poor girl. I—"
"At this point, it just seems like you're trying to get details out of me," she interjects.
"W-what?" you squeak, and she smiles, turning to look at you, suddenly cool and collected. 
She shrugs. "You keep bringing it up."
You scoff. How dare she accuse you of such a thing! All of the thirst comments under her posts must have gotten to her head.
"You're ridiculous," you retort.
"Am I wrong, though?" she counters, and you stare at her with wide eyes.
"No," you reply quickly, and then you mentally facepalm, realizing what you said. "I mean yes. You're wrong."
"Right," she chuckles, and the elevator dings, the doors opening. "I have a question for you."
"Yeah, sure, what is it?" you ask, stepping out into the hallway.
She bites her lip, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. "Have you had the chance to use your Satisfyer Pro yet?"
Your jaw drops, aghast. "Wh-what? What the fu—"
"Goodnight, y/n," she grins, snickering as she runs inside her apartment like a little goblin, leaving you to watch her with a mixture of disbelief and irritation.
You can't help but let out a huff of laughter as you enter your own apartment.
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You're sitting in bed with a slice of cake on your lap, blanket tossed to the side due to the hot weather, binge-watching a new series. You contemplate checking your email for a message from that landlord, but decide against it, not wanting to put a damper on your decent mood. Instead, you tune in to another episode of a k-drama, in which the protagonist dies for a second time. Supposedly, it's for real this time. 
You're about to finish the slice when there's a knock at the door. You frown, pausing the episode. You stand up, place the plate on the dresser, then walk towards the front door, peering through the peephole. Your heart begins to beat faster when you see a certain woman standing outside your apartment. 
"What's up?" you greet, swinging the door open.
"Hey," she says, a soft smile on her face. She's wearing a pair of loose shorts and a white t-shirt, hair in a bun. Sweat glistens on her forehead, and her cheeks are flushed. You can't help but note how good she looks, despite looking rumpled. 
"Hi," you respond, returning the smile. "What's going on?" you ask, leaning against the doorframe.
"So, uh, my air conditioning broke," she begins. "And I was wondering if I could hang out in your apartment for a bit? The maintenance people said they aren't going to be able to get here until tomorrow. Apparently they don't work on Sundays."
You've suddenly become aware of the fact that Bada has never been inside your apartment. The idea of her being inside the same room as you, sitting on your furniture, breathing in the scent of your home, sends a wave of heat down your spine. Maybe it was best to reject her offer and suggest another solution.
"Come on in!" you say, and open the door.
"Thank you," she breathes out, walking in, and your eyes rake over her figure as she passes by you. 
She looks around, taking in the sight of your apartment. You notice her eyes linger on some of your old pictures from your hometown.
"Your apartment is really nice," she tells you, and you feel a rush of pride.
"Thank you! Feel free to take a seat wherever," you reply, gesturing towards the couch, and she sits, throwing her head back as she lets out a sigh of relief.
"You're a lifesaver," she declares, and you plop down next to her.
"What happened?" you ask, and she shakes her head.
”I wish I knew. I went to turn on my AC and it just, didn’t come on. Completely out of the blue.”
"That sucks," you respond, and she nods, a grim expression on her face.
"So," she begins, turning her head towards you. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," you answer, and then remember the slice of cake on the dresser. You point to it. "Would you like some?"
"Yes, please," she says, nodding fervently. "Water would be great, too, if you don't mind."
Grateful to put some distance between the two of you, you practically bounce out of your seat. "Coming right up!"
You return with two glasses of water and your cake. She thanks you, and you hand her a fork, taking one for yourself.
"This is really good, y/n. Did you make this too?" she praises, and you nod.
"I did. Thanks," you reply, taking a bite.
"You really need to give me the recipe for these things. Or start selling them! I'd buy them all," she compliments, and you blush, waving her off.
You stare at the ground for a moment, before laughing bitterly. "That was supposed to be the goal, I guess.”
She furrows her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
You inhale slowly, prepping yourself. You hated this. But maybe you needed this. "I used to have my own bakery. In my hometown That's actually where I moved from. But then my landlord jacked the rent up and I couldn't afford it, and I was forced to close," you explain.
"Oh." She frowns. "That's awful. What a jerk."
"Tell me about it," you mumble, carelessly dropping your fork on the table.
"Are you looking for another place here?" she asks, and you nod.
"Yeah. There's a lot of great spots in Seoul, but there's one building in particular that I've had my eye on. It's not far from the Han River, and the rent is relatively cheap, and it's got everything I could possibly need. I'm just waiting to hear back from the that landlord. We were negotiating and things were going pretty well. But now its been months. I haven't heard from him since I moved here."
You blink back tears, and clear your throat, picking up the fork again. Whenever you think of everything that's happened to you recently, you cannot help but feel like an utter failure. You worked hard, finally achieved success, only for things to all fall apart. It seemed as if all of your efforts were for nothing.
"Hey," she whispers, and her voice is soft, calming. "It's gonna be okay."
She gently squeezes your arm, and her touch is warm. You look at her, and the tenderness in her eyes is enough to make you want to cry more. 
"I know. It's just hard, sometimes," you confess, and her hand remains on your arm.
"I get that, but I can promise you that what you're going through is temporary. I can't tell you how many times I thought I was done for good when I first started out, but now, I've come this far. If you keep your head up, and just keep working hard, you'll make it. You’ve done it before.”
Her words resonate with you, and her unwavering support fills you with hope. "Thanks, Bada," you respond, smiling.
"Of course," she responds, her eyes never leaving yours. "I'm here for you."
"I'm here for you too," you whisper.
A moment of silence passes, and your eyes travel to her hand. Her skin is smooth, and her fingers are long and slender. You wonder what they'd feel like intertwined with yours.
"Um, I’ve been meaning to ask," she says, interrupting your thoughts, and your eyes meet hers again. "Any new dramas you wanted to tell me about? Or, what about the one with that married couple you talked about?”
You almost laugh at her obvious attempt to distract you from your depressing thoughts.
"Pretty good," you reply, and she gives you a pointed look.
"And by pretty good, you mean..."
"Amazing, wonderful, mind-blowing, spectacular," you continue, and she nods, satisfied. "I was actually watching it before you knocked on the door."
"Ooh, really?" she responds, eyes widening.
"Yeah. Would you like to watch it together?" you suggest, and she grins.
"Yes, please."
"Okay," you giggle, and grab the remote, pressing play.
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Halfway through the episode, you decide to move to your bedroom (because the AC works better in there, of course!). Somehow, while lying on the bed, your legs become intertwined. She's sprawled out, and her head is resting in the crook of your neck, her soft hair tickling your face. 
You can feel her steady breathing, and the heat radiating off her body, and all of your senses are filled with her. You're so focused on her that you can't even focus on the episode.
"Y/n?" she murmurs, and her voice is low, quiet.
"Yeah?" you reply, voice equally as soft.
"Would it be weird if I said that I'm glad my air conditioner broke?"
You snort, and her body shakes with silent laughter. "Not at all."
You pause the show, and sit up. She does the same, and her eyes are shining.
"Do you want anything to eat? I've got chips, and some ice cream," you offer, and she bites her lip.
"Not really. Thanks, though," she responds, and your eyes travel to her lips. They're plump and pink, and you're tempted to reach out and kiss her.
"Okay, no problem," you say, and her gaze is intense, burning.
"Thanks for letting me come over. I appreciate it."
"Of course," you murmur, and then clear your throat. "Anytime."
"Really?"
"Yeah! You can even stay the night, if you want. I don't mind," you respond, and her eyebrows raise, lips curling upwards.
"Okay," she answers, and leans forward, cupping your face in her hands.
The action surprises you, and you let out a gasp. She pauses, eyes searching yours, and you nod, giving her permission.
She leans forward, and you close your eyes, waiting for her to press her lips against yours. Instead, you feel a pair of lips softly kissing your forehead, and your cheeks, and your jaw, and your nose, and then they finally, finally press against yours.
The kiss is gentle and sweet, and when she pulls away, her eyes are filled with affection.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," she admits, and you chuckle.
"Me too," you whisper, and her smile grows wider.
She moves closer to you, and you wrap your arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Her body is soft, and her skin is smooth, and you can feel her warmth seeping into your skin.
"I really like you, y/n," she whispers, and you tighten your hold on her.
"I really like you too, Bada," you respond, and she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck. You're in heaven.
"Thank god. I was afraid I was making a fool out of myself," she confesses, and you giggle.
"What? Oh my god. Not at all," you assure her, and she pulls away, a smirk on her face.
"So, I was right about you wanting details?"
"Oh fuck you," you mutter, pulling her back into a significantly more aggressive kiss. A surprised noise escapes her lips, but she eventually melts into it, moving against you with equal fervor. Her hands run up and down your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, and you're so caught up in the sensation that you don't even realize when she starts straddling you until she presses her body against yours in a way that has you gasping.
Your hands travel underneath her shirt, feeling the smoothness of her warm skin, the lines of her stomach, the swell of her breasts, and the curves of her waist. She groans into the kiss before slipping her tongue into your mouth, causing heat to pool in the pit of your stomach.
When you pull away, she's panting, and her lips are swollen. Her hair is slightly mussed, and her pupils are dilated, her eyes filled with desire. Without words, you both begin removing each other's clothes, tossing them to the side. She's left in only a black bra and boxers, and you have to remind yourself to move.
She chuckles, and you stare at her chest. You can see the outline of her nipples, and you reach out, brushing a thumb against them, and she bites her lip, closing her eyes. You can feel her heart beating rapidly, and you trace circles around her nipples, and she lets out a shaky breath.
"Please," she begs, and you smile, pulling her into another kiss.
Your hands move lower, caressing the skin of her thighs, and then you're cupping her center, and she gasps, pulling away.
"Y/n," she pants, and the sound of her moaning your name sends another rush of heat down your spine.
"Bada," you breathe out, and press kisses against her jawline, and down her neck, and collarbone, and chest. Your hand is still between her thighs, and she bucks her hips, trying to find friction.
"Y/n, please," she repeats, and the desperation in her voice is so fucking hot.
You slip a finger inside her, and you feel her walls immediately clench, followed by a whimper you're not sure belongs to you or her. You curl your finger inside her, and her head falls back into the crook of your neck as she rolls her hips, grinding against your palm.
"More," she practically demands, and you add another finger.
She's soaking wet, and the lewd sounds coming from your fingers sliding in and out of her has you squeezing your thighs together, desperate for some sort of relief.
You use your thumb to rub circles on her clit, and her movements become more erratic, her moans becoming louder.
"I'm gonna-ugh," she pants, and her nails dig into your skin as she orgasms.
You can feel her walls clenching and unclenching, and her body trembles, her eyes squeezed shut. She breathes heavily, and the sight of her is enough to drive you wild.
You continue stroking her until she opens her eyes, and you can't help but grin.
"Holy shit," she manages, and you remove your fingers, and she lets out a moan.
"Good?"
"Yes," she replies, and leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
"Now," she begins, breaking away. "Let me take care of you."
You can only nod as she reaches for your breasts, fondling them, and her eyes never leave yours. She's smirking, and the intensity in her gaze is enough to make your heart skip a beat.
You close your eyes, enjoying the sensation, and you nearly jump when you feel her body shift, her lips pressing against the sensitive skin of your neck.
She moves down, taking a nipple into her mouth, and you groan, arching your back. Her lips travel to your stomach, and then your thighs, and then you're lifting your hips, and she's sliding your underwear off.
"Spread your legs, y/n," she requests, and her voice is low, seductive.
You obey immediately, and then her tongue is inside you, and her fingers are on your clit, and your entire body is on fire. She sucks on your clit, and then makes headway further down, sliding her tongue inside you. You can't stop the moans that escape from your mouth, and you're certain the whole complex can hear, but you don't care.
Suddenly, she stops, and looks up at you. Your eyes snap open, annoyed by the interruption until you observe the way he's smiling, her chin slick with your wetness.s
"I wanna try something," she begins, and she sits up, scanning the room. "Where's that thing you got the other day?"
You bite back a moan. "Nightstand drawer."
She opens it, and takes out a small, pink object. Your face flushes as she turns it on, the vibrations audible in the otherwise quiet room.
"Is this okay?" she asks, and you nod, eager.
"Yes," you answer, and her mouth returns to your center.
She teases your entrance with the object, and the combination of her tongue and the vibrator has you squirming, your hands finding their way to her head, holding her in place.
"Oh god," you whimper, and the pleasure is indescribable.
Her tongue picks up speed, and then the vibrator enters you, and you nearly scream.
She pushes the toy in and out, and as it vibrates against your clit, and begin to feel like you can't take anymore. Your back arches, and a wave of euphoria washes over you as your orgasm hits, and the only thing you can see is the light from the lamp and the white of the ceiling.
When you regain control of your senses, you can feel her body lying on top of yours, her head on your chest. You lay in silence, trying to catch your breath, and it isn't until you hear her voice that you speak.
"How are you doing?"
"Sleepy," you mumble, and she smiles, pecking you on the lips.
"Then let's go to sleep."
You can only nod as your eyes slowly close and your mind becomes hazy. Before you drift off completely, you think to yourself that this might've been the best night you've had since moving here.
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Two weeks later, you and Bada are going up the elevator to your respective apartments after a walk from your job. You'd just spent the past hour gossiping in between taking customer's orders. Apparently, Mijoo and Naeun are going out. Figures. You hoped it worked out for them, but nobody was beating the blissful few weeks you've.
The two of you are holding hands, and your free one is holding a box containing a dozen chocolate chip cookies, made especially for Bada.
"I'm thinking of moving out," she suddenly states, and the statement catches you off guard.
"What? Why?" you ask, and she shrugs.
"It's about time. I can afford a better place, and I'm ready to move on from the apartment life. I need a house."
"I can understand that," you reply, nodding.
"You should move in with me," she continues, and the statement makes you laugh.
"What? Are you crazy? We just got together."
"Who cares? I want to live with you. Don't you want to live with me?" she responds, pouting, and she gives you puppy dog eyes.
"Yes, but...," you pause, and you can tell from the expression on her face that she's serious.
"But what? What's the problem?"
"Nothing. Let's do it."
"Really?"
"Yes, really," you confirm, and she beams, leaning in to kiss you.
You can't believe what you just agreed to. But, in a way, you're relieved. Maybe this will finally bring a sense of finality to everything that's happened.
"Damn, guess I'm gonna have to tell Jennifer about us. She's coming out here soon," you mutter, opening your email app. You go to type in your friend's email, but your eyes land on an unread email in your inbox, sent two weeks ago. It's from an unknown sender, and the subject is 'Regarding Your Application.'
Your eyes widen, and Bada nosily peers over your shoulder, reading the words.
"What's that?" she asks, and you gulp.
"I don't know."
"Open it!" she exclaims, and you do.
Y/N,
This is Kim Sung Soo, the owner of the property you inquired about. I was out of town for business and unable to contact you regarding your application. I've looked through the papers, and everything seems to be in order. I'd like to meet up with you so we can further discuss the terms of the lease before we finalize anything. When are you available?
"Oh my god," Bada gasps, and she stares at you, wide-eyed.
"What the hell?" you whisper, and Bada squeals.
"Oh, y/n! This is so exciting! Congratulations! I knew it would work out. Now, you can start your bakery, and we can move in together, and oh, my god, I'm so happy!"
"I'm confused," you mutter barely believing your luck, and the elevator dings, indicating that the two of you have arrived.
"Don't worry about it, okay? Come on, let's go have some cookies," she says, tugging on your arm.
You nod, following her down the hall without a hint of resistance. As you watch the woman drag you with a giant smile on her face, you cannot help but giggle. Who knew you'd find home and happiness in such an unlikely place?
114 notes · View notes
lunajay33 · 3 days
Text
Change Part.5
•🎀🩰🩷•
Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead
Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader
A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!
Part.4
•Masterlist•
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“I wanna see ya dance”
“Are you sure it’s kind of embarrassing”
“Show me Angel” he smiled with encouragement
I turned on Swan lake music and did the best I could from what I was capable of, I tried avoiding eye contact, this was my Daryl Dixon I didn’t wanna see him laughing in my face over something in so passionate about, but he never did make fun of me and he never would
“My ballerina, always so graceful”
He wrapped his arms around my waist after I was done pulling me down onto the bed on our apartment in Atlanta, I straddled his legs looking down at him
“I got a surprise for ya”
“Oh do you now?” I smirked thinking he was trying to turn the mood around
“A guy I work with at the shop has a girlfriend, she runs a dance studio and she got classes for adults on the weekends, got a discount so ya could go, if ya want” his face became red which I always adored my heart swelled for him
“DARYL! Are you serious you did that for me” I yelled excited
“Anything for my angel”
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“Kids I need everyone to stay completely silent okay, everyone sit along the wall of the windows and don’t move, we will stay until your parents come in 20 minutes” I said calmly as to not scare them they were only young
They listened and we were all sit in silence, my thoughts are in over drive what the hell was happening something was incredibly wrong how was I suppose to leave with those people out there like that and what about where Daryl was
Parents filled in quickly in panic dragging their kids out until finally it was just me, I took out my cell phone dialing Daryl praying he’d answer, my hands were sweaty my chest felt tight
“Angel you okay?” Daryl answered
“Daryl somethings wrong, people are coming back from the dead and eating each other please come get me I’m scared” I heard the tremble in my voice
“Don’t ya move im coming”
He was there in less than 10 minutes running into my classroom grabbing my by my shoulders and wrapping his arms around me tight holding me like the world was ending…….maybe it was
“We gotta go, we’ll go home and get our stuff but Merle’s packin some supplies fer us to get outta town ya gotta be strong” he said wiping my tears away
“Okay just don’t let go of me”
“Never”
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We got home and I was quick to fill up a duffel bag with spare clothes, family jewelry, pictures of Daryl and I, baby clothes I had started buying, prenatals and just as I was about to leave I looked into the spare room seeing my Ballet collection, the slippers were still as pretty as the day Daryl gifted them to me, I laid them on the top of my belongs in the bag and zipped it up
“My lil Ballerina ya ready to go?” Daryl asked gently running his hand down my arm
“I don’t wanna leave this is our home, where we were gonna raise this baby”
“We will be alright, cause as long as I got ya with me, I’m home” Daryl didn’t get extremely soft and sentiment with me but when he did I knew it was serious
“Okay, I’m ready” he held my hand tight leading me to his truck with his motorcycle strapped in the trunk, Merle hot on our tail driving his own bike, over the years Merle had gotten a bit more use to me but Merle was Merle he was still an ass and sometimes liked to take his frustrations out on me
“Where are we going?” I asked leaning my head on his shoulder trying to distract myself from the screams and blood all over the streets
“That place I took ya up at the quarry where…….where we were first together”
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“Daryl where are you taking me?” I asked as there was a cloth around my eyes as he drove me to god knows where
“Told ya it’s a surprise”
After some more time driving the truck stopped, Daryl got out coming to my side to help me out
“Can I please see now?”
He untied the cloth and what I saw made my heart melt, it was a tent over looking a serene blue quarry lake, he brought me inside the tent where he had a tons of blankets and a picnic basket in the middle
“D you did all this for me?” I asked looking at him with tears in my eyes
“ ‘Course Angel, after what ya did get me, patchin me up, making me feel safe, wanted to give ya somethin back”
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders something so new, after Daryl had that incident with his dad we had gotten a lot closer
“I appreciate this so much but you didn’t have to do something back for me, I help you because I want to because……..I love you” he was silent and tensed making me nervous, we’d talked about how he didn’t have much comfort and love growing up
“I think I love ya too, if this is what love feels like” he had the faintest smile
“Soooo would you be my boyfriend?” I asked biting my lip
“Definitely” he smirked as he backed me onto the blankets laying me down so he was hovered over me
“I wanna be with you Daryl, I’m ready”
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When we got to the quarry all the memories came rushing back as I looked out over the quarry, a group was already set up there from Atlanta and they were fine with taking the three of us, so after we set up Daryl’s and my tent I came here to try and get my thoughts together
“Ya okay Angel?” Daryl asked as he stood behind me wrapping his arms around my waist resting them on my tiny bump
“Just thinking about or first time here, how nervous you were, how much I realized I really love you” I said leaning back against him letting out all my stress knowing he had me
“Remembered how beautiful ya were, knew ya were the one fer me”
“How beautiful I was? Have I gotten ugly with age?” I teased
“Nah ‘course not, I got the hottest wife in the world and I ain’t letting ya go” he said as he placed a kiss to the top of my head
“We should get back, get settled for the night” I said as I held his hand scared of those “walkers” that could be wander up here
“I know it’s scary but ya gotta stay relaxed, ya know the doctor said stress is bad for the baby”
“I’m trying it’s just……a lot” we made it back to the camp and others were sitting around fires as the sun was slowly setting
I slouched next to Dale letting out an exhausted sigh letting the heat from the fire wash over me, soon Daryl came sitting by me, throwing a blanket over my shoulders and handing me a protein bar he must have packed
“You okay sweetie?” Dale asked, I only just met him but he was obviously very caring
“Oh yeah I’m fine, just a long day, glad we could get out of the town in time”
“So how do you two know eachother?” Andrea asked from across the fire
I looked at Daryl knowing he is a closed off person, being with him since we were young I forget about how he interacts with others but I understood why, he nodded giving me the okay
“We met in highschool, and have just been together since, our science teacher paired us up and changed my life for the better” I smiled remembering how cute I thought he was
“That’s so sweet, you seem like you’re perfect for eachother” Amy chimed in
I just smiled feeling Daryl squeeze my hand under the blanket so the others didn’t see, he was never big on pda
I ate my protein bar and started to feel all the stress from the day come crashing down on me so I leaned over to whisper to Daryl
“Can we go to bed?” he nodded standing up alerting the others we were leaving
“Ya better be careful” Ed said with a menacing feeling, he scared me he had this aura about him that made my skin crawl
Daryl and I walked off to our tent, where Merle was sat on a chair infront of his tent right next to ours
“Yall get nice and chummy with the camp, share fun camp stories” he mocked
“Come on Merle we need to get use to this no point in making enemies of the only people that might still be around” I said not wanting to deal with Merle’s antics right now
“Yer lucky we even helped ya out bitch” he groaned
“Shut yer damn mouth Merle” Daryl opened the tent and we left Merle to stew in his usual anger
I plopped down on the air mattress Daryl had blown up and laid blankets on, he rummaged through my bag to get my pajamas but he stopped
“Ya brought em?” He asked holding up my ballerina slippers
I don’t know why but I blushed
“Well yeah, it was the first thing you have to me” he smiled taking out my pajamas and handing them over
As I changed he took off his shirt and pants, pulling on some sweatpants, we crawled into bed laying in silence for some time
“Do you think this will all be over by the time the baby comes in 6 months?” I asked as he traced patterns around my belly
“I don’t know Angel, but we’ll figure something out, now get some sleep”
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“Okay class keep working on your test I’ll be right back” I said in a hurry as I raced off to the bathroom, just making it in time to throw up all my lunch
This didn’t feel like the usually stomach bug but what else could it be……..that’s when I remembered the last time Daryl and I were together, he had just got home from work and he was so worked up from his shift he didn’t even care to use a condom and just wanted to let out his stress
Now here I was after school picking up pregnancy tests from the drug mart, wondering which one would be the most accurate
“Need help?” I looked to my side to see a beautiful woman with locks in her hair and darker skin complexion
“Yes please, I’ve never had to pick before”
She handed me a rapid test in a pink box smiling like she knew how this felt
“I know what it’s like, had the same look you have now before I had my boy, you’ll be okay”
“Thanks, I’m y/n by the way, I haven’t seen you around before are you new here?”
“I’m just passing through and I’m Michonne”
“Well it’s nice to meet you, and thank you for this but I should probably go test this out”
“No problem, good luck girl”
I got home before Daryl quick to pee on the stick, waiting for the results, the box said 5 minutes and those 5 minutes were the most stressful longest minutes of my life
The timer went off, time to see if I was really pregnant, I took the test with shaky hands and flipped it over……….2 lines I was pregnant, I thought I’d be scared and knowing Daryl’s past I wasn’t sure how he’d feel but to have a little baby with the person I love most in this world just felt….right
“Angel I’m home” I heard Daryl call from the front door
I quickly put the test in my back pocket and left to greet him, nervous of how he’d feel
“Hey ya okay?” He asked always reading me like a open book
“I have something I need to tell you”
“What are ya okay?”
“I’m fine, I just want you to know that this is what I want but if you don’t want this then I don’t know I understand why you’d leave but……”
“Ya know I’d never leave ya, now tell me what’s going on, yer freakin me out”
I took the test out of my back pocket and handed it to him, his confusion very clear, he had no idea what he was holding
“What’s this?”
“A pregnancy test, it’s positive”
He didn’t say anything he just kept looking at the test, I could see the thoughts rushing in his head
“Please say something” I whimpered feeling the emotions build up in my throat
He wrapped his arms around my waist picking me up and spinning me around
“I love ya, and I’m gonna love this baby ya hear me”
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I woke up to the sun shinning through the tent giving a warm glow around us, remembering the dream of tell Daryl I was pregnant, ever since seeing those people ripping flesh apart I’ve been reminiscing a lot about the past, maybe it’s because there might be a chance that I’d never get that life back, the life I fought so hard for with Daryl, the one I craved and now it felt like it was being ripped away what if this changed things between us
I rolled over feeling the bed beside me was cold and empty, but Daryl was usually an early riser, I changed into some shorts and a more fitting short sleeve shirt, hauling on one of Daryl flannels over it, leaving the tent I saw Merle and Daryl sat around a little fire between our tents
I sat beside Daryl in a chair they must have gotten from the camp
“Here have some of this” Daryl said passing me so deer jerky he packed
“Ya okay?” He asked after I hadn’t spoken for some time
“I’m fine, just been thinking about a lot of stuff”
“Worlds not about you anymore sweetcheeks, get over yerself or ya ain’t gonna last” Merle said scoffing as if this was such a normal thing to happen to the world
“Merle can you just give me a break for once” I sighed rubbing my eyes
“Stop being a princess, may have worked before when Daryl was there to protect ya all the time from the big bad world but ya gotta suck it up” it’s kind of true, I was a bit more sensitive than others but I just didn’t like confrontation and if there ever was Daryl was there like my big strong knight
“Merle we ain’t going through this again” Daryl groaned obviously sick of Merle as well
“I’m gonna go for a walk” I stated getting up to get away from this growing tension
“Take yer knife” Daryl said handing it over
I walked through the surrounding woods enjoying the silence away from Merle, the only sound I could hear was the gentle chirps of birds littered in the trees above
I found a fallen tree sitting against it, little dandelions surrounding the base, I picked a bunch putting them in my pockets, knowing they were edible and might go along way with the group
In the past I would’ve never thought this little yellow “weed” was safe to consume but after a nature survival lesson from Daryl I was basically caught up on everything you could know about the woods
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“And why exactly do I have to know survival tips about the wild?” I asked looking at Daryl like he was crazy as we walked through trails for a date he planned
“If yer my girl now ya gotta be able to take care of yerself ya never know what might happen”
“Okay if you say so” I said giggling
He crouched down by a patch of dandelions picking one out and tucking it behind my ear
“Every part of them are edible, roots stem flower” he said continuing to walk
“Really but aren’t weeds bad?”
“Not these ones, trust me spending lots of time out here I’ve had to eat a fair few”
“I…….im sorry” I hated knowing he had to struggle with a neglectful family
“Ain’t yer fault……..ya know my mother woulda loved ya” he rarely talked about her but I knew what happened to her
“Really, that would’ve been nice to meet her, see the woman who made the sweetest guy I’ve ever met”
“That’s why she’d like ya, sweet girl, and because ya love me more than I deserve”
I grabbed his bicep stopping him and turning him towards me
“Don’t speak like that D, you deserve all the love the world can give, ya wouldn’t like if I talked about myself like that would you?” He lowered his head shaking it
“Nah guess not”
“Come on mountain man, show me the rest of your tips” I said and his face exploded in red
“NO NOT LIKE THAT, god Dixon you’re going to be the death of me” I said pushing him forward on the trail screaming internally as he laughed
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After spending about half an hour sitting here I got up heading back to camp, when I turned around I heard a groan and leaves crunching it was a walker only steps away from me, I stepped back tripping over a root landing hard in my tailbone, not realizing the walker was right infront of me falling ontop of me, it jaws snapping in my face, using all the strength I had to hold it back, I lifted my leg up kicking it over and off me, quickly taking out my knife driving it through its head ceasing its movement, I looked down over my first splattered with blood, the adrenaline still coursing through me I ran back to the camp past everyone to where Daryl was still sitting by our tent
“Angel what the hell happened” he asked standing up looking at me with horror
“A walker…..” I gasped
He ran his arms all over my body checking for bites, I tried to reassure him I wasn’t bite but for his peace of mind I let him continue
“Ya killed it?” Merle asked from next to us
“Guess I’m not that weak after all”
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Part.6
Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @welcumetomyescape @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @lettersfromyourlove @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken @minnie-min @writer-ann-artist
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avocadorablepirate · 2 days
Text
What Do We Call This? - 07
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Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader
Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.
Word Count: 1.2K
Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, swearing, the occasional OP spoiler, they're both kinda mean to each other in this one
A/N: I don't know whether this series has a great flow, and honestly I don't know how well I've portrayed Law's character, but that's okay cause I'm very happy with how this chapter turned out <⁠(⁠ ̄⁠︶⁠ ̄⁠)⁠>. I hope you like it too!
—⁠☆✿☆—⁠
Having boarded Law's ship you trail behind him into the submarine, leaving his crew and the Straw Hats on the deck. While you mindlessly followed him, you took note of the stark difference between the Polar Tang and the Thousand Sunny. Although it seemed a lot more cold, the grey metal walls of the submarine also offered a sense of security in their own way, the faint beeping noises oddly comforting.
Shifting your focus from the walls back to the man walking in front, you called out to him when you realised he hadn't noticed you following, or at least hadn't bothered to acknowledge your presence. On hearing his name Law slowly turned to face you.
"So what did you need my assistance with?" you ask, tilting your head in curiosity. From the time you had spent with him, you knew that when it came to planning, Law was always two steps ahead of the rest. So maybe his plan required you to be in Wano, or maybe he required your assistance with something on his submarine.
"You'd only hurt yourself more if you went with Straw Hat-ya to retrieve Black-Leg. It's better for you this way."
Or maybe not.
"Really? So, that whole needing my assistance thing was a lie?" His lack of a response was enough of an answer.
"I can take care of myself Law. I don't need you constantly watching over me like I'm some child," you assert, ready to storm off before your frustration escalated. But before you can retreat, an all too familiar blue aura envelopes you. "Law-" you try to protest to his actions but your words fall on deaf ears.
"Room."
"Shambles."
The room shifts to what looks like the infirmary of the Polar Tang, and you find yourself already seated on the white matress of a surgical bed as Law shuts the door to the room. Before you can inquire about his intentions, he answers your unspoken question.
"You haven't changed your bandages since we left Dressrosa," he remarks, pulling out a gauze wrap from a drawer and positioning himself in front of you.
"I changed them yesterday," you counter, but this only leads him to roll his eyes, "Clearly, you didn't do a good job of it," he chides, gesturing at the gauze that had been haphazardly wrapped around your torso. In your defense, you were in a bit of a hurry. Robin had found some books in Zou that she thought you would like, and you were all too eager to read them (plus, lingering in the infirmary for too long risked someone seeing your wounds)
"They don't need to be changed. I'm fine. It's all healed." You once again try to convince him, but you're met with a stern look this time. "Just because filling yourself up with alcohol and sleeping every chance you get numbs the pain, does not mean you're healed."
You're caught off guard by Law's reply. Though you think to yourself that maybe you should have known that someone like the Surgeon of Death, who knew how your devil fruit worked would notice that your consumption of alcohol and constant need to sleep were clear signs of you trying to distract yourself from the pain. Evidently, you had no memory of what you had said to him a few nights ago.
"Law-" you once again try to protest, but he's already removing the bandages, and you wince as his hand lightly grazes your side. He looks at you confused, your wounds shouldn't hurt just from this, he thinks to himself, and quickly but gently removes the rest of the gauze. His expression changes from one of confusion to frustration as he looks from the fresh blue-black bruises spattered across your torso to you.
"How did this happen?" he asks, and you shift in your seat, biting down on your lip as you contemplate telling him or not.
"How did this happen?" he spits through gritted teeth, and you shift your gaze away from him, at the same time realising that he wouldn't relent until you gave him an explanation.
"Some of the Minks were still injured before we left Zou, and Chopper wasn't around, so I helped them."
You notice his fists clench and unclench in response to your answer, a sign that he was trying to control his emotions. You choose to slowly meet his gaze as he takes a deep breath before letting out a sigh, already anticipating your response to his next question, "Why didn't you call me?"
"You were meeting your crew after so long, I didn't want to bother you."
He tries to remain calm, but your answer only fuels his frustration. His fists clench once again and he bangs them into the table causing you to flinch. Law's hands now enclose you on either side, his head bent down, so that his hat just about covers the way he's clenching his jaw.
"Why are you always finding ways to hurt yourself?" he murmers, his voice barely above a whisper. But he doesn't give you a chance to repond, "Do you care so little about your life?"
"It's just a few bruises," you respond, and this time he meets your gaze, his grey eyes laden with emotion.
"I don't understand," Law pauses, his anger mounting. "Why!? Why do you not care about your own well-being!? Why do you insist on helping people who've never done shit for you!?"
His words strike a nerve, and you scoff. You can only assume that he's referring to the Straw Hats. Your own emotions are starting to get the best of you, and you throw him a glare of your own, "What the fuck do you know!?" you yell back. Law's taken aback by your outburst, but is quick to regain his 'composure'. However, you don't give him time to respond.
"You know absolutely nothing about me Law, and you have no fucking idea what I've been through and what these people have done for me! So stop trying to protect me!" You grab at the gauze wrap and try to push him aside, but he doesn't budge. His hands grip tightly at the white sheets of the surgical bed, but he doesn't say anything.
"Move Law," you command, but his grip only strengthens, his knuckles turning white.
"I know enough about you to know that you knew Cora-san, and that's enough of a reason for me to protect you."
Law's jaw relaxes, but he remains silent and unmoving, reverting to his stoic demeanour as he waits for some sort of reaction from you, or maybe deliberates over what to say next. You're taken by surprise at first, not knowing how to react to his revelation. But the emotions are quick to come back, and your frustration with him that has been unknowingly brewing over the past month refuses to back down from this confrontation.
"Then you know that he wanted both of us to keep living. Yet you were ready to give your life in exchange for bringing down Doflamingo. So, don't fucking come to me about not caring about mine," you retort with more spite than you intend, your words almost like venom to Law. But you're far too infuriated to take them back. With one final shove you manage to push past him.
"(Y/N)-ya," he calls out to you, attempting to sound firm, but the tremble in his voice is unmistakable.
"I think it's best if we keep our distance," you mumble more to yourself as you walk out the door, leaving Law behind.
_______________________________________________
A/N: This was actually supposed to be longer, but I decided not to include the next part cause it would kinda downplay this part and just lose the drama. So y'all are going to have to wait till next week for them to maybe make up :⁠-⁠P.
taglist: @trafalgardaria @deathsmajestysworld
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haitani-maki · 15 hours
Text
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*⋆.ೃ࿔⋆.I sʜᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ
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18+ MDNI
Yotsurugi Taira x Fem!Reader
TW: friends to lovers, cheating mentions(ex bf), mentions of alcohol, pussy licking, fingering, squirting, overstimulation
English is not my first language
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It was already 2 am, you had already lost count of how much you had drunk. Trying to forget the horrible argument you had hours ago with your now ex-boyfriend after discovering a cheating.
Wondering what you did to deserve such shit, inside a bar where there was no one friendly. You didn't care, sitting next to the bartender and you didn't intend to leave sober.
Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel someone sit down next to you
The person doesn't say anything, just asks for a drink.
All the effect of the alcohol you were feeling went away, a familiar voice makes you look to the side
It had been a few years since you two had seen each other, Taira Yotsurugi was your friend who you had a crush on during your teenage years. Unfortunately, you had to stay away from him because your parents didn't accept you dating the son of a Yakuza. But now you're an adult, there's no one to stop you.
He hasn't changed much. Taira stood a little taller, his lazy cat eyes that you still remembered perfectly, his blue and black hair now a little longer, he looked a little colder than before and definitely hot.
Taira hadn't seen you there, he seemed distracted
"Taira?" - You call him
"Y/n..." - He whispered your name in surprise - "Y/n, how long has it been!"
You spent a few hours talking about the events since you last saw each other, remembering some things from the past and smiling about silly things.
He looks at you as you continue talking, Taira missed you. He never told you about his feelings, he knew how strict your parents were. Taira thought it would be better this way, he thought it would hurt less...
But damn, how he missed you. Those were dark days for him, not being able to hear your sweet voice, not being able to receive your warm hugs, your beautiful smile whenever you saw him.
You stop for a few seconds, blushing a little when you notice Taira looking at you.
"Why are you looking at me like that, Taira?"
"Just thinking" - He says simplistic
"Thinking about?"
"About everything. About that time, I shouldn't have walked away from you and I shouldn't have let you go."
"Taira, I'm so-" - He interrupts you
"I know what your parents were like, y/n. I also know there wasn't much we could do." - Taira held your hand - "But I really missed you, I won't let you leave again."
And now here you are at your boyfriend's house, or better said, with your boyfriend between your legs
Lewd sounds coming from your mouth and your wet pussy as Taira's two fingers scissor you.
Your thighs trembling as Taira sucks hard on your clit, you came on his tongue.
Taira removes his tongue from your pussy, licking her lips, slowing down the movement of his fingers
"Shit, such a good pussy. I need one more, princess."
Before you could say anything, Taira's tongue flicked through your pussy again, making you scream from the overstimulation.
His fingers returning to a frantic rhythm, touching that spot that makes you see stars
Your thighs shaking around him again, your back arching and your mouth opening in a perfect "O"
You feel that knot in your stomach tightening, suddenly breaking apart into a gushing squirt into Taira's mouth
"Shit princess. I wonder how many times I can make you squirt in my mouth."
It was a long night with Taira saying "Just one more." leaving you an exhausted mess.
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©Reblogs are welcome, do not copy or translate
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idkfitememate · 1 day
Text
So anyway this is the newfound brain rot because I got to many ideas, not enough for a fic, but it’s gonna distract me from others so here we go lol-
(Also yeah Grandpa I’m in a manly mood)
Note from weeks later: Nah this bitch a fix tf-
“Tell me about my Дедушка*.”
Capitano looked down at the ginger with contempt. It was often now, since Dottore had let it slip - curse that bastard - that Tartaglia’s Grandfather was a Harbinger. Apparently the boy had been raised to think that great man was simply a lowly solider, not one of the most powerful men in Snezhnaya.
When he heard that, Capitano had never wanted to kill a family more.
They hid your legacy from their kids, how dare they keep living as thought they had any right!?-
He sighed.
The boy continued to bother the much larger man at any chance he got, borderline begging - or now was he? Maybe he crossed that line ages ago - the man to tell him anything about his grandfather.
War stories, tall tales, hell even DRINKING stories, the 11th would take any.
It wasn’t like his Grandfather wasn’t alive, Childe could leave the palace right now and go ask you, seeing as you lived with his family.
But what Childe wanted was to come home one day in a boisterous manner and shout at his parents:
“You LIED you FEINDS!!! How DARE YOU LIE to not only ME but the REST OF YOUR CHILDREN about their ГРАНДФАТЕР?!? And to YOU, ГРАНДФАТЕР, ALLOWED THEM TO LIE!!! How COULD YOU?!?”
But he held to much respect for both them and you, even if his father sent him off as thought sending his blood thirsty son to join the Fatui would do anything. It was like sending a polar bear to a penguins nest, he had no clue what his father was thinking.
No matter, because you were there, showing him moves and teaching him tricks and giving him tips. Though, he still felt a bit betrayed at the fact that you even hid the fact that you were one of the strongest men in Snezhnaya.
“You truly wish to know boy?” The sharp voice of his superior snapped Childe out of his head. A quick nod was enough to bring Capitano to a nearby chair and sit, Childe quickly following.
“He was brave, I can say that much… He was around before me and had made a name for himself long before I even dared touch the Fatui, let alone graced its ranks.”
Childe took in the information like a sponge, absorbing everything the man said.
“They called him Большой хищник Севера*, a powerful title I’m sure you can see. It is said that before his accident, he had not lost a single man in war or battle, but after, he only lost seven men, one of each nation.”
Childe looked on in wonder. Only seven men… in the entirety of his Harbinger career? He knew the Doctor could never account for that.
“Wait… his accident? Do you mean..?” “Yes, when he first received that scar across his face, marring it, that was the first time he lost a man, someone near and dear to him as I’ve heard. I was only then truly climbing the ranks when this happened… a pity. But he wore that scar, and his friend’s Vision, with pride.” Childe gaped.
“Wait, you mean to tell me that-“ “Yes, Tartaglia, that Vision he carries in his eye, as well as arm and ear, back and finger, even his heart, they all work. They are the last pieces of his closest comrades. He’d rather die than give them up, I’ve heard. Unfortunately the strain of using them forced him into retirement, but he comes when we call.”
Childe’s eyes widened as he screamed.
“WAIT THEY WORK?!?-“
⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆
“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-“
Ajax looked on in awe at his Дедушка. The nearly ten foot tall giant of a man, with a full beard and furry body hair to boot had just pulled a huge fish out from beneath the ice sheet they currently stood on while ice-fishing, bare handed.
Your roaring laughter echoed through the tundra as you held the fish up proudly. You grabbed the then four year old and hoisted him onto your shoulder, that which he could fully sit on and still have some room. His hands latched onto the side of your face but that didn’t seem to phase you, as you continued your loud laughter. The cause of your laughter, being that the fish was the same size as Ajax.
“LOOK AT HOW LARGE IT IS, МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН*!! SHE IS THE SAME SIZE AS YOU BWAHAHAHAHA!!”
Ajax’s entire body shook as you continued to laugh, giggles beginning to bubble up from his own mouth.
He watched as your Hydro themed earring bounced around as your body gyrated up and down from the mere force of your laughter. His laughter grew until the two of you were basically screaming out through the tundra.
You sighed and - while still chuckling - wrapped an arm around the boys waist and began walking back home. Of course, not before grabbing the bucket filled with other fish from your fishing trip.
Ajax didn’t want to say anything, on account of the fact that it would’ve been disrespectful of course, but your arm that was wrapped around him was bumpy and hard and cold, not unlike a certain place on your chest, though it was just super cold.
The arm was usually covered in more layers or a bunch or bandages wrapped around it to soften its shape and surface, but Ajax could still feel the sharp points and edges, though he never minded.
Eventually you both made it back to the house you shared with his family, and ducking under the doorframe quickly alerted the family of your presents.
“ГРАНДФАТЕР!!!!” Ajax’s two younger siblings - a third was on his way, Teucer would be his name - ran up to you jumping at your feet. You chuckled more and let their heads, greeting each.
“Tonia, Anthon, calm yourselves!! We were only gone a few hours hah hah!!” The two only cried out in joy louder, wrapping themselves around your legs. You stumbled for a moment before walking forward as if they weren’t there.
A man and a woman watched as you walked into the kitchen and subsequently the freezer - ironic considering where you lived - to drop off the fish before waltzing into the living room. You plopped down in the couch, first removing Ajax’s coat and then your own.
The two on your legs let go and smiled up at you, the man and woman - Ajax’s mom and dad - walked over a gave you smile, a hand landing on your shoulder.
Your smile widened.
Archons you fucking loved your family.
⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆
Archons you fucking hated these enemies.
These fuckers from Natlan were resistant little fuckers. You chop off a hand and they’d still keep fighting.
You were growing annoyed after hours of fighting, blood drenching your uniform and absolutely caking your hair, something you knew would be a bitch to get out from experience.
Your right hand of the time, a Natlander by the name of Eztil, was beside you through the whole fight. He wielded large war hammer made of various precious metals and stones, as well as prettified wood; it swung through the skies, heating up the air as his Pyro vision burned bright. Much like you, his battle-hungry smile was long gone, replaced by annoyance as he squished another enemy beneath his hammer, blood spraying across his already bloody face.
“UGH! I’m getting bored nouehuepo*!! When are we going to be finished?? I am growing hungry and wish to challenge you to another eating contest after this!!” He shouted, completely ignoring the man running at him with a knife, whom was taken down by another Fatui member.
“I do not know приятель*. But let us continue until no other man stands but us!” And with that, you both continued swinging. You with your fists, sickles and hammers, him with his war hammer and bursts of flame.
Your movements were in sync, almost like a dance as you ravaged the battle field. You had each others back, making you both the most dangerous force on the battlefield.
If only it could’ve stayed that way.
It was a second. A second to look back at your friend to make a mental check.
Then you felt a searing sensation on the side of your face not looking at him. Eyes quickly looking back, a knife was embedded in your skin and a man had his foot on your chest. He smirked, then dragged the burning hot knife up, towards your eye, but before you could fully react.
Everything went white in that eye, then black.
Then, the most searing, burning, awful sensation you had ever felt.
Your scream silenced the battlefield as you bat the man away with the knife still embedded in your flesh, his body skipping across the land like a stone on a lake. Eztil’s eyes landed on you, which was just enough time for another attack.
“EZTIL!!!” You screamed.
A sword embedded itself through his chest. Both your eyes widened as your hand left the knife in your eye, reaching out to your now falling comrade.
You refused to cry, because he’d live.
That’s what you said to yourself as you rushed over to him, not minding your injury.
“Eztil, don’t you DARE fucking close your eyes, do you understand me?!?” Blood bubbles from his lips as his breathing slowed. A tear slipped from his eye as one of his hands pressed against your cheek.
“Nouehuepo… take it.” He whispered. Your gaze became confused as you stared at the dying man.
“What..?-“ “My vision. Take it. She shall be of service to… y-you.” He let out a harsh cough, his blood not staining your skin, making you flinch.
“No. It is yours приятель, I could never-“ “It is my last wish. Y-you wouldn’t deny a d-dying man his last wi-sh, would you?” You sighed, smiling at him.
“I don’t want you to die of enemy hands, so would you allow me to do the honors?” His grin widened, a glint in his eyes as he laughed, which quickly turned to hacking up his lungs.
“O-of co-urse!!” He smiled, and you smiled as well. Your hand flew up to the knife in your eye, and tore it out, not caring for the fountain of blood that squelched out. You also didn’t mind the large flap of skin that fell from your cheek, revealing the musculature of your face and your gums and teeth.
“Goodbye, my friend. May you find many fights in the afterlife to satisfy your bloodlust.” He grabbed your hand with the widest smile you’d ever seen in him.
“And ma-y I see you I-in that place!” Your hand came down onto his head, knife imbedding itself into his skull. Then, you raised your arm and planted the knife tainted with you and his blood now into his chest, striking his heart head on.
The light died from his eyes and his vision, but you quickly picked up the small red jewel which had been attached to his hair. Wiping it off, you leaned back and held your hand forward, before slamming the damned thing into your eye.
The battlefield suddenly felt as though it was atop a volcano itself, the air heating up and ash seemingly falling from the sky. You gripped your friend’s weapon, testing it in your hand and grip, swinging it slightly. Your hands pressed to your waist and your hand tilted to the sky, and finally, you laughed.
Your laughter shook the world, men falling in their asses as you showcased your joy. the air grew even hotter as the vision grew even brighter. Your entire body shook as the ear hammer in your hand heated up to a point where the metals were turning white in heat, though they didn’t melt.
You turned to your men, a wide smile on your face and tears, one trail of water and one of blood, streamed from your eyes.
“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR MEN?!? LET US FIGHT UNTIL ONLY WE REMAIN!! CHARRGGEEE!!!!”
You continued to laugh as you knocked down tens of hundreds of soldiers in one swipe, the sky nearly turning red at the mere sight of your bloodlust and rage.
That night would go down in history. The night the sky cried blood, the fall of a nation of soldiers, the day Natlan would forever regret.
‘The Night Man became a God”
⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆ ⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆
You stared at the bloodied Tartaglia- no. You stared at your grandson, Ajax’s bloodied form.
He only looked back at you.
“Well, Дедушка? Have I become a God?”
Holy shit this sucked the shit outta me-
This ain’t the best but I hope you enjoyed might go back and make another of these lmao-
Дедушка - Grandfather
ГРАНДФАТЕР - GRANDFATHER
Большой хищник Севера - The Great Predator of the North
МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН - LITTLE ONE
nouehuepo - my friend
приятель - buddy
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