#today my left knee the last time my entire right side

[strawberrysands]

Spencer Reid x Reader: he gets shot.

Spencer Reid x Reader

Prompt: Reader is Spencer’s secret girlfriend and works at the hospital when he gets shot.

Warnings: mentions of blood, getting shot (not reader), guns, fluff, a little angst, not proofread

Word count: 1.4k

I sigh as I pinch the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes. God, it’s been a long day. You look at your watch and groan; another three hours were left on your shift?

I turn my head as I hear a chuckle next to me, seeing my coworker raise her eyebrows at me.

“Long day?” She asks me.

“You have no idea.” I sigh. “I have touched way more bodily fluids today than I ever intended to in my entire life.”

She chuckles and shakes her head at me. “At least you got someone waiting for you at home.”

I can’t help the blush that appears on my cheeks as she mentions Spencer. Sure, we’ve been together for a while now, but it never got old.

My phone buzzes and I open it, smiling to see a text from Spencer: “We’re heading out now, should be back tonight. Don’t wait up for me ;)”

I quickly reply with a “Stay safe xxx” before returning to the computer in front of me. Those last three hours would feel like days at this rate.

--

An hour or so later, a message over the PA grabs my attention.

“Any available staff, please head to the emergency bay. Male, GSW to the neck.” So I was getting some action tonight.

But oh, I wished I wouldn’t. My eyes grow wide as I recognize who was being reeled in on a stretcher.

“Spencer!” His name had left my mouth before I could stop myself. I rush over to him, putting pressure on his wound.

“His pressure’s dropping!” 

A tear rolls down my cheek as I hear those words, watching his eyes roll to the back of his head. A hand gently pushed me back, struggling against my attempts to get back to Spencer.

“Stop.” Another nurse says. “You’re too close to this. You’re no help in this state.”

I know he’s right, but my heart said otherwise. I stop struggling as Spencer gets reeled into surgery, my arms going limp at my sides as I watch helplessly.

I hadn’t even noticed the people he came in with, since I had never met his team. Their glances my way went unnoticed.

--

My knee bounces as I check the time over and over again.

“Hey.” I look to my right, seeing a woman with colorful clothing and glasses smile kindly at me. “He’ll be alright.”

I nod, not noticing in my own stress how she said ‘he’ or how she seemed to try to convince herself of those words just as much as me.

I shoot up out of the chair I was in when I recognize Spencer’s surgeon come out.

“Is he alright? Is he-“

He interrupts me before I could continue. “He’ll be okay. The surgery went alright. He’s in room 102.”

I can’t help myself as I quickly throw my arms around him. “Thank you.”

The team watches as I quickly make my way to his room.

“Who was that?” Emily asks, but she doesn’t get an answer. The whole team was just as confused as she was.

--

“Did they check your vitals again?” I’m frantic as I check them myself, not waiting for Spencer to answer. “Did they-“

Spencer grabs my hand, pulling me back into the chair beside his bed. “Look at me. I’m okay.”

I quickly shake my head as I sit back down and grab his hand in mine. “You were shot, Spence. You could’ve-“ I cut myself off as I notice the tears that start to well up in my eyes.

“Just- don’t ever do that again.” I kiss his hand, earning a smile from him that I return.

Our moment was cut short when a nurse enters, not even glancing at us as he goes to Spencer’s IV.

“He had antibiotics an hour ago.” I say, frowning at the syringe in his hand. He takes a look at the chart, shaking his head.

“Doesn’t say so here.”

I quickly realize just what type of antibiotics are in the syringe, just as Spencer does.

“Hey, I can’t have those.” He starts, reaching for the nurse. “I have a severe reaction to those, it’s all in the chart-“

When he completely ignores him, I get up. “Hey, stop!”

Just as I grab the nurse’s hand and push it away, I hear Spencer yell. “He has a gun!”

My eyes grow wide as I realize Spencer was right, seeing it just as the nurse pushes me to the floor. I scoot backwards as I stare right down the barrel of the gun. I hear Spencer yell something and commotion outside the room, footsteps coming closer. Just as the man’s hand curls around the trigger, I shoot forward in a moment of bravery.

The sound of the shot has my ears ringing, but the bullet hits the floor just as I grab his legs, tackling him to the floor and kicking the gun away. I’m breathing heavily, wether from the shock or adrenaline, I didn’t know. My hand connects to the man’s face just as the door opens, a rather panicked stern man coming in, other people right on his tail.

I see his lips move but don’t hear him say anything, the ringing too strong. I turn to Spencer to see if he’s alright, finding his eyes already on me. He, too, was saying something as he reached for me, his hand cupping my face.

“Hotch, get him out of here.” I hear Spencer say, my hearing slowly coming back. The stern man from earlier handcuffs and escorts the man out of there, the others behind him staying at the door.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks, his eyes scanning my face for any sort of injury. I cover his hand on my cheek with my own, nodding at him.

“Yeah, I’m just, uh, I-“ I ramble. “I’m okay.”

“I hate to interrupt, but uh-“ I turn around to see the voice coming from one of the people still at the door, black hair adorning her face as she motions to the two of us.

“Oh, yeah, I really wished you would’ve met under different circumstances, but,” Spencer starts, before motioning from me to the others, “this is my team. Emily, Derek, Rossi, JJ, Garcia, Hotch – this is Y/N, my, uh, girlfriend.”

A few looks of shock pass over their faces as I wave at them, a shy smile on my face.

“I really wanted you to meet her, I did, but it’s-“ Spencer starts explaining, but the man called Rossi cuts him off.

“It’s alright, kid. We understand.” He smiles kindly.

“Damn, pretty boy. I’m proud of you.” Derek says, smiling widely at his friend and winking at me.

“Shut up.” Spencer groans, and I can’t help but chuckle. He was never going to hear the end of this.

“You really pack a punch.” Emily says to me, referring to the man whose nose was probably broken.

“Oh, it was probably just the adrenaline.” I say, getting slightly flustered at all the attention.

“Girl, you broke the guy’s nose. That’s impressive.” The blonde woman, JJ, smiles at me.

“Now, everyone get out. I’d like to have my girlfriend to myself, before all of you steal her from me.”

Spencer’s statement earns a round of chuckles from everyone, before finally leaving the two of you alone.

His thumb runs soothing circles across your bruised knuckles, smiling at you. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I know.” I say, grinning. “Your team seems nice. The guy in the suit, Hotch, could loosen up a little though.”

Spencer laughs at that, shaking his head. “I’ve been trying to tell him for years.”

I lean forward, gently brushing your lips against his.

“I love you.” I whisper, feeling Spencer smile against my lips.

--

“He better not let her go.” Rossi says, all of the team watching you through the window.

“How did he not tell anyone for so long? If I had a girlfriend that pretty, I would be boasting about it.” Garcia huffs, shaking her head.

Derek chuckles. “Yes, you would, baby girl.”

Hotch clears his throat. “Don’t you think we’re a bit creepy, just watching them through the window?”

Emily shrugs. “Probably. But they’re too cute, I’m not leaving.”

[honeekyuu]

squeeze. [sakusa kiyoomi x reader]

two. the devil.

previous. || masterlist. || next.

a/n. this au has me on my knees.

[playlists]. satin black || brews abridged || vibes

warnings: SAKUSA MOTHERFUCKING KIYOOMI.

✗ !!! minors do not interact !!! ✗

✗ !!! ignore timestamps !!! ✗

“Just come on-”

“Dude,” Hinata coughs, waving his hand in front of his face. “I can’t see shit.”

You roll your eyes, dragging him into Satin Black by the wrist. Cigarette smoke clouds your vision and stings at your eyes, but the dark glow of the tattoo shop makes it impossible to see, anyway. You’d started to get used to it over the last few weeks, but it’s still an assault on your senses every time. You blink it away, squinting into the hazy room.

The tattoo artists – the polite-looking one and the angry guard dog one – are standing at one of the mirrors. Akaashi Keiji and Iwaizumi Hajime, based on your interactions on Twitter today. You stop at the counter, watching them and barely noticing when Hinata stumbles into you from behind.

Akaashi’s shirtless in the mirror, a cigarette dangling between his lips and his eyes squinting down at the art on his own body, as though he’s examining intensely for imperfections. His jeans are slung low on his hips – you see that the dark trail of hair under his navel is flanked on both sides by symmetrical hip tattoos, the black ink stark on his pale skin. 

Iwaizumi is behind him, head bent and cigarette shedding ashes onto the floor as he digs a tattoo gun into Akaashi’s spine. He’s wearing an old muscle shirt with cigarette holes in it, tattooed biceps flexing every few seconds as he works and his frown deep with concentration. There’s a large outline on Akaashi’s back, the lines purple and thin and spanning the entirety of his upper back and curling over the tops of his shoulders. Half of it is filled in, pale blues and greens splashed over his left shoulder blade and Iwaizumi’s gun pressing a cyan color into his spine. Akaashi looks to be in absolutely no pain, his gaze empty as he mumbles something plainly to the other artist. Iwaizumi lifts his head and plucks the cigarette from his own mouth, another cloud of smoke filling the room as he stares down at Akaashi’s back and grumbles a response. 

The interaction is entirely inaudible, the grating guitar of “Crazy Bitch” screaming in your ears. Hinata has both ears plugged with his fingers, and he leans in close to yell to you.

“This is that one Buckcherry song you like!”

It catches both tattoo artists’ attention, and you have no idea how they’d heard your friend.

Cyan eyes find yours in the mirror – cyan like the ink being drilled into his back – and Iwaizumi’s angry gaze is whipping around to you and Hinata at the counter, the cigarette flickering with light and then shedding between his fingers.

“The fuck do you know about Buckcherry?” he barks, and you’re amazed you’d caught it. Hinata jumps beside you, and you feel him shuffle closer.

“Nothing! Uh-Sir?”

Iwaizumi finds that funny, it seems. His eyebrows lift, and you hear him snort quietly as he gives Hinata the once-over, but your eyes are trapped by Akaashi’s. 

The polite-looking one, who doesn’t look so polite now that you really look at him. 

He stares back emptily for a moment, and then – when he sees that you won’t break eye contact first – he smirks, the cigarette looking dainty in a smile that dangerous. 

“Suna,” he says quietly, and you wonder if there’s some black magic in the shop that makes hearing possible through the music. “Your favorite customer’s here.”

You only realize that the curtain across the room is closed when it flies open. Suna emerges on a rolling chair, shirtless with black sunglasses sitting on his nose. You wonder wryly if he knows it’s already dark in the shop without them. 

He’s clearly with a client, because he’s got black latex gloves on and a pair of forceps his right hand, but when he sees you, you get the feeling he couldn’t care less.

“I was wondering when I’d see you, sweetheart.” His smile is wicked, and you wonder, not for the first time, if he’s as harmless and stupid as he seems online.

He sets the clamp down and stands from the chair just as the song is changing, and that black magic idea becomes that much more convincing – haunting vocals ring in the shop, layered under a bass-y beat and quick rap, and the way Suna strips his hands of that black latex while smiling at you feels oddly like you’re being lured in by a siren that knows exactly what it’s doing.

His head twitches in Hinata’s direction, and you watch two tattooed fingers lift the glasses off his face as he stares down at your friend with lifted brows.

“You old enough to be in here?” he says with a smirk as he approaches. Hinata only leans toward you again, his arm hooking with yours.

“Is that the piercer?” he asks in a whisper. Suna’s face splits in a shit-eating grin, his double lip piercings spreading under the light when he presses his hips against the counter.

“Yeah. That’s the piercer,” the man says, his voice low and close. And then he flicks his gaze to you, and green eyes pin you to your spot. “Finally gonna let me pierce you, baby?”

You swallow and shake your head, clearing it. “I’m here about-”

“About the music,” he says, head tilted to look down at you. “I know. What’s wrong – you don’t like Saliva? It’s one of his favorites.”

You furrow your brows, frowning up at him. “Who?”

There’s silence, and then Suna’s grin is widening, face twisting into something terrible and manic.

“Oh,” he breathes, excitement making him lean ever closer. “You haven’t met him yet."

Oh.

Suna pulls out his phone and types out a quick message – you watch the black outline of a heart that sits on his thumb fly across the screen, and you remember to steel yourself despite the nerves. You’d come here for a reason.

Suna’s eyes find yours again. “I fixed that for you.”

“Fixed what-”

The door directly across the shop from you is wrenched open, and your gaze goes right over Suna’s shoulder. The man that comes out of that room walks in time with the echoing, ethereal vocals ringing throughout the shop.

Black Docs blend into black jeans, ripped at the knees and following lean legs that go on for miles. A black t-shirt that’s form-fitting and snug around tattooed biceps, every inch of those arms covered an ink, down to fingernails stained with black polish. Septum and industrial piercings glint under the single overhead light as he passes under it, and two ink black moles peek out from under the ink black hair that hangs over two ink black eyes.

Jesus Christ.

He’s in front of you before you can put together that you’ve been staring up into his eyes for too long.

“Can I help you?” His voice isn’t welcoming, it’s deep and rough and irritated. You wonder when the devil made hell so hot.

“Uh-” You swallow, and Hinata’s elbow digs into your side, urging you. “The music-”

The devil sneers, and your brain whispers a quiet ‘thank you’ in response. “You’re really interrupting my piercer for this? He’s with a client.”

You blink. You remember the devil has a name. He’s just a man, and you’d be damned before you fold for him.

I’d rather he fold me in-

“Maybe your piercer should be professional and not forget he has a client, then. He wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

You see Akaashi and Iwaizumi turn over their shoulders to stare. They’d gone back to tattooing Akaashi’s back, but the gun switches off now, Iwaizumi’s eyebrows high on his forehead as he stares in amusement. Akaashi crosses his arms, watching with a quiet, unnerving smirk. 

The devil–Sakusa Kiyoomi– leans down, planting his hands on the counter and leveling you with a glare that makes you shiver. “Is that all you can come up with?”

You drop your gaze, able to match anyone else’s but not his. Not his. 

Your eyes land on his marked fingers, and you notice a piercing on his right hand that slices through his middle finger, between the second and third knuckles. Suna has the same one, now that you’re looking.

“‘s cute,” you mumble, nodding your head toward it. You lift your eyes to Sakusa’s, slapping a disinterested smile on your face. “Boyfriends?”

He stares back evenly, unfazed. “Brothers.”

You need this man like you need air.

“Do you need something,” he starts, voice cutting through every thought flying around your head. “Or are you just here to waste my time?”

The haze of him crashes down over you, and you remind yourself who you’re talking to. 

It works. 

“If my wine glasses start shattering, you can expect a bill from me,” you say, crossing your arms in irritation. He only lifts his brows, looking at you like you’re stupid.

“How about you just move your wine glasses away from the wall?”

You bristle, leaning forward and planting your hands on the counter, too. Hinata’s hand slips from your arm, and he gasps quietly, whispering your name. You don’t hear it, too busy getting in Sakusa’s face.

He looks briefly surprised to see you come so close, and his eyes flick down to your mouth before finding your gaze again. You smile politely, knowing he’ll see it for the insult it is.

“How about you just turn your music down?”

He smiles back, leaning closer, and you swear you can smell his shampoo. 

“How about you just fuck off?”

You blink, eyes going wide. He’d said it with saccharine, but it stings across your skin like a slap to the face. You furrow your brows, hatred burning in you, but he’s sliding his eyes to the man beside you, looking at Hinata for the first time.

He gives the ginger a once-over, and then he slides his gaze back to yours, slow and purposeful and magnifying the whisper he lets out, breath fanning over your mouth.

“And get your little brother out of my fucking shop.”

He’s gone before you’re ready to let him leave, the door to his office slamming so hard that the windows behind you rattle.

You stare at it blankly, listening to Suna’s low whistle and Akaashi’s mocking snicker. Iwaizumi just shakes his head, visible in your periphery, and the tattoo gun starts up again. The song changes. Hinata tugs on your elbow, the words ‘let’s just go back’ said low in your ear.

You’re going to ruin him.

taglist = [open]

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she put my hand up on her throat and told me // squeeze that shiiii-

squeeze [ghostemane].

[katsu28]

hi kait!! finally found my way into your inbox, i feel like it’s been a tiiiny bit overdue 😭

i’d love to request writing little notes on post-its and leaving them in random pages of their textbook, so that they will get a little endorphin boost when studying with oscar if that’s okay! (or max, if you wanna give a hand at writing for him)

liyah!!! you're right on time babe, thank you so much for this request! i had so much fun writing this and i'm hoping i did max justice <3

max verstappen x reader, 2k, a dash of google translated dutch lol. request something from here!

“Fuck!” 

Your forehead thunks down against your open textbook for what feels like the millionth time. You feel like you’ve been staring at the same page for hours, yet you still can’t seem to make any sense of what you’re looking at, and it makes you want to scream. 

Now don’t get it wrong, you love learning and you’re fortunate enough to be pursuing an advanced education, but it’s at times like these you wonder if it’s all worth it. There’s so much information to take in and not enough hours in the day to remember it all, and you’re running out of time before you have to take this godforsaken exam that could prevent you from moving to the next level of courses. 

No pressure, or anything, of course. 

“Careful, mijn liefje, you're too smart to be banging your head on the table like that.” Max’s voice rings out from behind you, and you’re too tired to even jump. You hadn’t even heard him let himself into your apartment, let alone sneak up on you. He leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“I don’t feel smart,” You huff, feeling his hands smooth along your shoulders. “I feel like an idiot.” 

“You’re not an idiot.” He replies, very as-a-matter-of-factly. His thumbs press into the knots at the base of your neck like he knows exactly where they are, rubbing slow circles. You don't see it, but he scans your surroundings with a furrowed brow as he massages your stiff muscles. 

The table around you is littered with things—crumpled papers, empty Red Bull cans, an entire stationery store’s worth of pens and highlighters, and most worryingly, your still completely full water bottle. If that sight is any indication, he can safely assume you probably haven’t left your place in this chair for a while. 

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way because I mean it from a place of love, but when was the last time you got some sleep?” 

“What? I dunno, like yesterday—wait, what day is it today?” 

Max presses his lips into a thin line. He’s never been one to worry too much about your studies, because you’re fully capable of keeping things in order yourself, but it might be starting to get out of hand. Now feels like a good time to step in and take matters into his own hands. “If you have to think that hard about it, it’s been too long.” 

Finally you look up at him, and boy is he right. You look utterly exhausted, even as you vehemently shake your head side to side. “I’m not tired, Max. I need to study.” 

“You’ve been studying for ages. What you need is rest.” 

“I can’t. I don’t have time for rest, I need to be ready for my exam,” You argue, already turning back to your textbook. Max crouches down next to you, blanketing your knee with a large, warm palm. His other hand eases the pen out of your grasp, fingers lacing with yours instead. 

“Please take a break, schatje. If not for yourself, do it for me.” 

One look at those pretty, pleading blue eyes of his and you cave, nodding defeatedly. “Maybe a little nap couldn't hurt.” 

Max nods enthusiastically, gently pulling you out of your seat and towards the hallway leading to your bedroom before you have a chance to reconsider. You’re leaning heavily against him, basically already half asleep as he guides you down onto the soft mattress as easily as he can. 

“Wake me up in twenty minutes, please,” You mumble, giving a sluggish tug at his hand. 

“Of course.” 

He won’t, but you don’t need to know that. Max will gladly take any consequences if it means you get at least an hour of rest, hopefully more. Your health and wellbeing is the most important thing to him. 

Your eyes flutter shut on their own accord mere seconds later, soft snores emitting from your mouth even before Max pulls the covers up to your chin.

“Not tired, my ass,” He chuckles under his breath, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before exiting the room as quietly as he can. 

While you get some much needed sleep, Max organizes your study space a little, tossing away the cans and wrappers, plugging in your computer to charge, then moves onto the kitchen and cleans up in there too. 

The living room area is next on his checklist; blankets get folded and put back in their rightful spots, and windows get opened because he won’t lie, the air smells a little stale in here. He figures a complete reset and a neat area might help ease your mind when you wake up. 

As he surveys his tidy job, his eyes land on your open textbook, then the massive stack of multicolored post-it notes next to it. He might not be able to help with the studying part, but there is something he can do about keeping your spirits up while you work on the former. 

He settles himself into your chair, hunching over at the desk as he scribbles notes to you. Encouragements, affirmations about how bright you are and how proud he is of you, dumb jokes to hopefully make you laugh, even his best shot at the little cute doodles you draw for him on the whiteboard of his driver’s room whenever you’re in there waiting for him. Obviously, they’re nowhere near as good—Max has never claimed to be much of an artist—but hopefully they’re enough to give you a little mood boost during your study sessions. 

Being careful to mark your spot, he scatters the sticky notes randomly throughout the crisp pages. 

You rouse from your sleep hours later, barely able to get a word out before Max ushers you to the bathroom to relax in the hot bath he’s drawn for you. Despite your protests, you sink into the nearly scalding water (which is just the way you like it) with an appreciative sigh.

Only once you’re fresh and clean and thoroughly pampered by your boyfriend does he let you come back to where you were when he first found you earlier today. But it looks different. It’s not a mess anymore. Upon glancing around the rest of the place, you can tell that he’s done quite a bit whilst you were passed out. 

“Did you…clean my apartment while I was asleep?” You ask in bewilderment, taking in the neatly organized space with wide eyes. It even smells fresh, lemony and bright and not at all like the despair of an overworked twenty something year old student during exam season. 

“Yep.” Max says simply, popping the ‘p’. 

“Why?” You’re not mad in any way, shape or form, just simply stunned. It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you and Max just shrugs like it’s no big deal. His nonchalance still takes you aback sometimes. 

“Thought it might help. Anyways, you get one hour to study, then you’re taking a break even if I have to drag you away from that book myself,” He warns, pinning you to the spot with a stern glare. “I’ll be in the other room, but I have a timer on, so don’t even try to pull one over on me. One hour. Call out if you need anything.” 

He kisses you firmly on the side of your head and then he’s gone, leaving you alone to hit the books once more. 

Slumping into the chair with a groan, you shake your head not unlike a dog would, flipping open your book again to where you’d left off. Your head feels a little clearer now, a little less foggy now thanks to Max’s efforts, and you’re hoping it’ll make a difference. 

Your gaze is immediately drawn to a bright green sticky note a few pages later, off in the side margins. It isn’t one of your notes though, but rather Max’s tiny handwriting, an odd mixture of lower and uppercase letters spelling out a message. 

You’re doing an amazing job. Keep pushing!

Before you know it, you’ve flipped through the entire book in your search of more notes from Max, your grin only growing bigger and bigger with each one you find. 

Why don’t dinosaurs talk? Because they’re dead. 

I’m proud of you for making it this far. You’re so smart. 

What are Sassy and Jimmy’s favorite day of the week? Cat-urday. 

If you find this one, we’ll go to Bora Bora during summer break. 

That last one is tucked in the back cover, signed and dated by him. You plan to keep it as undeniable proof when the time comes, though you suspect he won’t try to deny it. He’d be happy to whisk you off to any place you wanted if you asked. 

Every single one of his notes makes you grin like an idiot, but his attempts at drawing his cats are your favorite ones of all. It takes you a few moments to understand what exactly you’re looking at, but when you squint at what could be the outline of Sassy’s ears, it makes you actually laugh out loud. 

Warmth spreads from your head to the tips of your toes at the thought of Max taking the time to do all this for you, even though he really didn’t have to. When you think about it, he’s always been this way—showing that he cares through his actions. Taking care of his loved ones without having to say a word. It’s one of the many things you love about him.

Like always, Max is true to his word. One hour later on the dot, he marches back in with gusto. 

“Alright, break time! Let’s go get some food. Lando keeps waffling on about some Greek place that’s apparently super popular and the best he’s ever had, if you don’t mind—” He stops mid sentence and mid stride at the sight of you staring back at him. You’re not smiling, but you also don’t look angry. It’s actually a little unsettling, really. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

You barrel into Max with enough force to make him stumble backwards a few steps, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug. He lets out a soft noise of surprise at having to catch you all of a sudden, one that is quickly stifled because your lips are on his now, and you’re kissing him the same way you do when he comes home after a triple header and you haven’t seen him in weeks. 

The kiss is short, but teeming with emotion. Love, appreciation, gratitude—you kiss Max with everything you’ve got, and when you pull away he looks pleasantly confused. 

“What was that for, schatje?” He chuckles, smoothing a hand up and down your back. You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Everything.” You mumble, pressing your face into the softness of his jumper. Another laugh rumbles through him, fonder this time. 

“Everything.” He repeats. You nod against his chest, and he knows what you’re trying to say, even if you’re not saying it. He sighs contentedly, nestling his chin over the top of your head. 

You’d stay like this forever if you could, if neither of you had things to do and places to be. Just you and your Max, who knows you so well you don’t even have to tell him what you need. And what you need right now is food. 

Max rocks you side to side, voice light as he ponders the options, because he just knows what you’re thinking already. “If we hurry, we could probably still get a table before the Greek place closes. Or maybe not, but I’ll pay them extra to stay open for us.” 

“I like the way you think, Maxie.” You beam, kissing him again. A little too quickly for his liking, but he doesn’t mind. As long as you’re happy, he’s happy.

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[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Congrats on 5k! For the request thing— what about Price, doing some wedding/engagement ring shopping? He wants something special, and something perfect! I think some of the other boys would like to propose with a family ring, but he REALLY wants something nice for his lover, even if she'd be happy with something small and simple.

Give that man extra grey hairs trying to choose between tiny, miniscule details that only a trained jeweler would notice.

—The Perfect One

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [He stares at the rings under the glass with an acute narrowness to his eyes. He inspects every one as if a bomb might go off at any second, not missing a single detail in the metal.] ❞

The Captain’s lips thinned and once more the Jeweler’s face fell with an inward sigh of disappointment. 

“Next,” John places the ring back down to the glass counter, the rows and rows of engagement bands inside lit up by background lighting.

“Sir, it’s nearly closing time. I don’t think you’re going to find one today—” Blue eyes stare and don’t blink at the man behind the counter; with nearly three solid seconds of eye-to-eye contact. 

The Jeweler clears his throat. 

“L…Let me go check in the back.” John grunts and the man scurries out of sight after locking up the previous ring. 

They just weren’t right, the Captain admits as he sighs long and rubs a hand over his beard, scratching at his cheek. Some rings were too simple, others too gaudy or far too intricate—there had to be that perfect medium somewhere.

But hell, this was the last jeweler in the city. John scowls at himself; glaring down at the glass and at the hundreds of options inside; all having been taken out and inspected as if they were bombs out in the field. The epitome of no stone left unturned. No man left behind. 

No ring left behind. 

“Bloody fuckin’...” The Captain trails off, harshly grunting his anger. 

If you could see the blatant annoyance in John’s eyes, you’d laugh and take him by the face, kissing his chin before speaking about blood pressure. As if he wasn’t constantly one bullet away from getting his brains shot out of his skull. 

It was the thought that counted. 

The man closes his small eyes and tilts his head to the side, fingers tapping the counter once. 

He just…he wanted it to be everything you would want. All he needed was a plain band, truth be told, but for you, he wanted that ring to show everything that you’d been through together. The good and the bad—past and future. An even mix of love and devotion swathed around your finger to join you both in a promise you’d already been keeping for years. 

And none of these blasted bits of metal and stone were good enough.

“If I’d of known it’d be this much trouble,” John grumbles, looking outside at the steadily darkening sky. “I would have just made my own, yeah?” 

But it was too late to change career paths, God forbid. 

Yet the man really wonders if it’s the ring that’s bothering him or the fact that he’s nervous to finally bend a knee. He knows he shouldn’t be, rationally there’s little chance you’d refuse—this wasn’t exactly a new relationship by any means. You’d both taken your time with things over the course of years. 

This was just a matter of when and not if. 

Still, the sink in his gut didn’t let up. 

“Here,” the Jeweler returns and John snaps back to the shop, moving away his clenched hands from the counter to fold them over his chest as the man brings over a small jewelry box made of reddish wood. “This is it—after you go through that,” he splays his hands in defeat and sends a painful glance John’s way. “You’ve fully gone through my entire stock. Had to dig through all of my displays to find it.”

“What’s wrong with them?” The Captain asks in curiosity, his deep accent pushing through as he grabs and opens the box with two hands—firm and not really hoping for much.

“Nothing!” The Jeweler exclaims, mildly offended. “They’re old pieces—antiques. They don’t match the rest of the designs I have out.” He blinks, thinking hard before he puffs out, saying, “They’ll cost you extra!”

John slides an unimpressed glance upward and frowns, but the rings in the box do more than he expected them to.

He blinks, slightly taken aback. 

There were only two in there, swathed by their precious sides in deep navy blue silk to hold them up. The glint of gold and platinum makes John’s breath still as the Jeweler begins talking about the ring that the Captain then takes out carefully.

“Circa 1940, the mixture of gold and platinum makes a unique and yet beautiful mix of class and antiquity with this piece. I would call it Victorian in style, judging by the detail around the raw gemstone—diamond, by the way. The ring is both simple but utterly striking when you look at the finer details, Sir.”

John ignores him, large fingers delicately bringing the object closer to his eye and moving it this way and that. He even goes far enough as to place it on the counter and take a step back to gaze at it from a distance, his eyes narrowed and wrinkles pulled in.

It was stunning. But, above all…it reminded John of you. 

The Captain’s lips twitch for a moment, his tension slowly dripping out of him like water. 

It made him huff a chuckle, but the Jeweler had been right about this one—the ring was simple, but the deeper intricacies of carved metal built it up to a point of elegance. A reverence and dedication to the craft. 

Dedication.

John slowly hums to himself, going back and picking the ring up another time. It sits in his palm, such a little thing, but, oh, so heavy. It wasn’t a shackling weight, no—it was the deep press of purpose. 

John closes his hand. 

“How much?”

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @waves-against-a-cliff, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[kyber-crystal]

learning to warm cold hands || ethan hunt

summary: after a particular mission, sunshine isn’t sunshine anymore, and it worries him. (aka a cliche angst to fluff fic with the following tropes: slightly sunshine and super sunshine, who did this to you, etc)

words: ~1.4k

warnings: angst, brief descriptions of violence, ethan being overly concerned for reader, but not much else asides from that 

a/n: first ethan fic (requested by a lovely anon, thank you!!) and second mission impossible fic! btw, this fic is kind of an AU? i don't have a specific timeline for when it happens, so you can squeeze it in wherever :)

“Y/N, status update?”

“Northwest exit, 430 meters. I have one on my tail. But you know I’m Usain Bolt 2.0! I can definitely outrun this doofus, I mean, I bet my mile time is way better than his. I could've gone to the Olympics, for God’s sake. The Olympics! Where are you?”

“Stay there, I’ll come find you.”

“Ethan, wait, you can't just tell me to—“ You don’t even get to finish before a an explosive sound echoes across the narrow alleyway. You make a sharp left turn but find that you’d just hit a dead end. The door was locked. Shit. You only had one bullet left and there was a guy who was definitely at least twice your weight—and over a foot taller, too—coming after you. You wouldn't even have enough time to reload.

“Y/N. Y/N—“

You don’t get to hear the rest of what he’s saying before the static fizzes out and you lose connection.

“Hey there!” You give the beefy man who’s now mere meters away from you a cheerful smile. “Lovely weather today, don’t you think? Too bad it’s going to rain tomorrow. I love the rain but I hate lightning, because I almost got struck a year ago.”

He doesn't look too happy at this, whipping his gun out without a moment’s hesitation. You squeeze your eyes shut and pray as you slide the bullet in and he pins you against the wall by your neck. 

He brings the gun to your head, and your weapon clatters to the ground. You curse under your breath. You can feel your airways constricting and there's a searing pain working its way through you. 

“You're not going anywhere, princess.”

There's a split-second; a microsecond in which he pauses. Very briefly. You don't think, just do—you knee him in the groin, hard, and quickly grab the knife that's sheathed in your boot. 

Saying one last prayer, you plunge the blade in, not even looking to see if you'd aimed right. He falls to the floor, stumbling, and you then lunge forward to disarm him. 

Another deafening gunshot rings out just as Ethan rounds the corner and finds you there, standing over the man’s dead body like the angel of death. A pool of blood surrounds your feet, and he doesn't think he wants to know if that's yours or his. 

“You made it out alive. Good job out there.”

Glancing over at him, you nod, but don't say anything. You toss him the data files without another word, and board the plane. 

“I'm proud of you.”

More strained silence. Huh, weird… he thinks. 

“Y/N, are you alright?”

No response. Ethan repeats himself again, “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

You strap yourself into your seat and tilt your head back, digging your nails into your wrist. Anything was better than being awake right now…

“Well, someone's uncharacteristically quiet.”

Still no response. Not even a snarky quip like you'd typically reply with. No nicknames, no bickering, no random fun fact you googled on the way over here. “Did you know that a pig can digest an entire human body, bones and all? That makes me think a little extra every time we pass through the European countryside and see one of them.” 

All he gets is silence from your end, and it starts to worry him. 

That’s when he follows your gaze downwards. You're clutching the left side of your abdomen, trying your best not to make a sound. 

His blood runs cold and his eyes darken. You can feel the pure rage radiating off him. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“No…shit…Sherlock…” you croak out. 

“You're hurt.”

No response again. 

“Y/N, what the hell happened out there and who did this to you?”

More silence. 

“Y/N, what did he do to you? How did he hurt you?”

After several more questions and several more failed replies, he forcefully moves your hand aside. Your shirt is stained a deep red and there's a gaping hole much bigger than Ethan wanted to see. 

“You got shot.” He sighs. “Luther, how much longer?”

“Hour and five, but we can get there in 38.”

“Hurry.”

“On it.”

Ilsa brings him a thick roll of bandages. He tries to be as careful as possible as he disinfects and wraps up your torso, but every so often, you wince in pain. 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, just a few more minutes,” Ethan hurriedly apologizes. “Hang in there for me, okay?”

Once he's done, he sits down next to you and laces your fingers together, giving your hand a squeeze. You let out a shuddering sigh and slumped against him. 

He pretends not to notice your watering eyes, or the crescent-shaped marks in your wrist. Or the way your left foot nervously taps out the rhythm to yours and his favorite song. Or the way your tears leave faint red tracks behind as they slip down your cheeks. 

“I'm so sorry,” he repeats over and over again, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.”

You don't sleep a wink that night. On any other day in Paris, you'd walk down to the farmer’s market below. You’d pick out Ethan’s favorite fruit and a new beret to have him wear jokingly, and maybe grab a croissant or two. Then you’d drag him along to the Louvre and point out each painting one by one and explain in great detail why you loved them so much. And he’d listen, because he could live purely off the sound of your voice for the rest of his life. He was never one for museums, but you loved them, and because he loved you, he started to love them, too.

But it's dark out, and after what had just happened the other day, you don't feel safe enough to leave the apartment. You tossed and turned for over half an hour before falling asleep, but jolted awake just a few minutes later, shivering violently. There was no way you were going to try and go to sleep again.  

Ethan stirs awake, rubbing his eyes to see a dark figure slipping out the door. 

He's quick to follow you up the staircase and to the rooftop. You're standing there in just a T-shirt (was that his?) and shorts, and it's freezing cold out, but you're sweating and fanning yourself. 

“Y/N?”

You turn around at the sound of his voice. “Ethan…”

“What are you doing up here? I was worried about you.” He makes his way over to you and puts a hand on your shoulder, obvious concern on his face. 

You bit your lip and started digging your nails into your wrist again. 

“Talk to me, Y/N,” he pleaded. “Tell me what's wrong.” 

You shook your head, feeling the skin of your wrist beginning to sting. 

“Y/N, please. I want to help you. But I can’t do that when you won't talk to me, so please…tell me what’s going on.” 

“I’m so tired, Ethan,” you finally spoke after a long pause, voice hoarse. “I should’ve—I shouldn’t be here right now, I should be dead because I panicked and I…I almost died. The man, he put the gun to my head and I saw my entire life flash before my eyes. I could’ve sworn to God that the whole ‘thing’ about you seeing your life flash by like a film reel was just a myth but it wasn’t. It scared the shit out of me because I kept seeing the same thing over and over. I thought…”

“What did you see?” he asked, voice gentle. 

“I kept seeing your face. All I saw was your face.” You looked away, suddenly unable to make eye contact with him. Heat spreads across your cheeks. “I know I care about the whole damn team, but you—you’re my future, Ethan.”

He doesn’t say anything in response and instead, leans down to kiss you.

The sudden rush of warmth from his lips being pressed against yours makes you want to forget everything in the world and completely drown in him. This was home, you realized, and this is where I’m supposed to be.

And as the sun rises and spreads a brilliant pale glow over the horizon, Ethan can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was also exactly where he was meant to be. Not fighting bad guys, but rather, standing on the rooftop of a tiny building in the 4th arrondissement with you in his arms and your head against his heart. He thinks he could have a lifetime of this.

“You’re my future, too.”

tags (including those who may be interested! add yourself via this form, if you’d like): @mitchellpete @voguesir @fl0ating @lady-elena-adeline @the-multiverse-of-fandoms @ilsastrenchcoat @joyfullyswimmingface​ 

[dawnrider]

@brain-rot-hour was working on a piece for today's @inukag-week prompt of Personal Space and the conversation evolved to writing about the scenario they created and here we are!

Have a citrus-scented canon universe vignette to go with brain-rot-hour's piece which you will not want to miss. 😏

“Damn monkeys," he growled.   Rolling her eyes, Kagome sighed. "You always let them get to you when they aren't even youkai.” She shook her head with a wry smile. "I can't just kill ‘em. You'd make me feel all guilty.” His face was twisted in a pout, his ears laid back in frustration.  “Pretty sure you'd manage to make yourself feel guilty without my help.”  “Keh.” Deny it though he might, she knew she was right. He was much more of a softy than he liked to admit. “Let’s get that scratch looked at. Don’t want it getting infected.” He nudged her shoulder where his kosode draped down her arm. It was too big, but it was better than her own clothes which were in tatters from the attack. 

She shut the door to the abandoned hut they’d found after herself, waiting for Inuyasha to pass one last inspection and give the nod of approval that it was safe. “Last time I let Shippou rummage through my bag unsupervised,” she grumbled, dropping said bag onto the floor.  The monkeys had been attracted to the smell of fruit soaked into her clothes which the kitsune had spilled when trying to get his crayons from the bottom of her backpack. Needless to say they didn’t understand “no” and “stop that.” Kagome felt lucky that a few small scratches was all she had to show for it. Inuyasha was unfortunate enough to get bitten in the side, so they were taking the time to get cleaned up. Clean water and bandages set aside, Kagome settled herself on the edge of the table so she could get a good look at the bloodied bite just to the left of Inuyasha’s navel. His suikan had been dropped to the floor and she was met with the entire expanse of his torso. A very nice torso that has a bite in it… Swallowing, she used a soft damp cloth to clean the wound, then apologized profusely as she prepared to press the alcohol-soaked cloth to it. She flinched at the same moment he did, but not because of the sting. His large hands, previously pressed onto the tabletop on either side of her, had drifted to her knees and reflexively squeezed when he tensed. He hadn’t caused more pain. In fact… “Sorry,” he murmured. Kagome bit her lip, then went about putting the gauze and tape over his wound. “That scratch… It needs disinfected.” “I can reach it.” “Probably. What if there’s another?” Kagome sucked in a breath as his hands oh-so-carefully brushed aside the length of his kosode, baring her up to her thighs. His nose twitched. “They got your middle too, didn’t they?” “I-I can reach that.” He hummed, his face next to hers so that she couldn’t see his eyes. Kagome felt her heart racing. A shiver went through her when air hit her midriff. “Let me check.” Long warm fingers traced up across her thigh until they met her belly, which tightened at the brush. She struggled not to recoil in surprise, biting her lower lip. “Anything hurt?” A quick shake of her head. His hands returned to her legs, thumbs lightly pushing against the softer skin of her inner thighs until they parted to allow his hips between. “What about here?” he breathed, cheek brushing against hers as he spoke. “Anything stinging?” She murmured that she was fine. “Aching?” She gasped lightly in response. How did he know? She could hear the smirk in his breathy laugh. His hand brushed against the outer side of her knee, fingers curling under and lightly pressing his claws into the soft underneath. “Inuyasha?” she questioned, unable to resist the pull of his soft cheek against her own, the tiniest brush of his lips against her ear. He huffed another laugh at the way she arched into his space. “I’ll make sure there’s not a mark on you.” He paused, pressing a much more intentional kiss to the space just in front of her ear as his thumb pressed a little more into her thigh, claw providing just the slightest prick along the nerve endings. “Not from the monkeys anyway,” he promised. Kagome smiled softly.

[erimeows]

Self Conscious (NSFW)

Spring in Konoha has never truly existed. While today is the first day of the season, more than anything, it still feels like summer. It’s nothing new to Kakashi Hatake, who has lived in the village his entire life. He’s traveled enough to have experienced other climates, but he’s not too bothered by the ten month long stretches of blistering heat followed by only two months of pleasantly warm weather before it gets uncomfortably hot again. 

He lets out a sigh of relief when he walks into his apartment. The cool air washes over his sweaty skin as he shuts and locks the front door behind him.

Kakashi hears familiar footsteps against the wooden floor and looks to see you turning the corner from the hallway. 

“Hey, sweetie, how did physical therapy go?” You question.

“Fine enough,” Kakashi answers, then sighs. “Boring as always.”

Kakashi walks past you towards your shared bedroom. You follow close behind. He can’t help but notice that you’re wearing a tank top and shorts. He wants to tear them right off of you. However, there’s just one thing stopping him.

A healing hip.

Of all things… Roughly two months ago, he broke his hip on a mission. While incredibly painful and inconvenient, it didn’t require any surgery after Sakura worked on him, which he’s grateful for. What he’s not so grateful for are the weekly physical therapy sessions and the list of restrictions Tsunade has given him to follow while he heals; drink plenty of water, eat only healthy food, rest lots, and worst of all, no strenuous physical activity. 

What that means is no training, and worst of all for you and Kakashi, no sex.

Sure, the two of you can get off in other ways… But Kakashi misses it. As he watches you absentmindedly staring at yourself in the tall bedroom mirror, he wants it more than ever- wants you more than ever. He’s been wanting you so bad that he’s tried to seduce you a few times since the injury regardless of the restrictions he was given by medical personnel. Unsurprisingly, you care too much about him healing properly to let him have his way with you when he still has another month to go before he’s cleared to do anything. 

He sits on the edge of the bed and takes his shoes off, his one visible eye still trained on you. The straps of the tank top you’re wearing slide off of your shoulders. He can see the outline of your breasts and the stiff peaks of your hard nipples through the thin material of the shirt as the chill from the air conditioner blows over your bedroom. Your shorts tightly grip your hips and ride up to show your thighs.

“I’m glad it seems like you’re recovering well,” You grin and walk towards Kakashi so you can sit next to him. “I’m looking forward to next month when you’ll get your medical restrictions lifted.”

“Yeah, me too,” Kakashi looks you up and down before pulling his mask to let it fall loosely around his neck and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. “Come sit in my lap, pretty girl.”

You don’t hesitate- because just like Kakashi, the last two months have left you starved for touch- because even with kissing and cuddling and holding hands, the intimacy of sex is something that the two of you have missed desperately. 

You climb into Kakashi’s lap and put your knees on either side of his hips before leaning in and capturing his lips with your own. Kakashi kisses you back and tilts his head to deepen the connection. Your hands move up and down his body like they’re not sure where they want to go. Kakashi ends up grabbing them and pulling them until they’re gently resting on his neck, your small fingers wrapped around the pale skin, settled but not squeezing.

“Fuck, Kakashi,” You gasp, grinding your short-clad heat down against his stiffening cock and threading your soft fingers through his silver hair.

“I want you,” Kakashi breathes and practically tears your shorts from your body. There’s already a damp patch in the center of your white underwear as he circles your clit through the thin cloth with his fingers and uses his other hand to pull at your tank top. “Please, I need it. Let me have you.”

“You know we can’t,” You argue and break away from him to get off the bed. “You have to heal, Kakashi. Believe me- I want you, too, but I’d hate for two months of physical therapy and recovery on your end to be for nothing.”

Kakashi leans back onto the bed and huffs, his dick rock hard and aching for relief. His eyes flutter shut. 

“Okay.”

“I’m, uh,” You turn your back to Kakashi and go to the small drawer of your dresser to grab a vibrator. Then, you walk over to his side of the bed, press a kiss to his head, and start to walk the other direction. “I’ll just go take care of myself in the bathroom real quick.”

Kakashi sighs again. For the past two months, aside from the occasional oral, you two have hardly done anything- and any time you get yourself off, it’s either in another room or when he’s not home. At first, Kakashi didn’t mind too much, but he can’t help being curious… The two of you have been together for five years and you’ve never masturbated in front of him. Is it weird? He isn’t sure, as you’re his first serious romantic relationship. To him, though, it definitely feels weird. He’s even jerked off in front of you a few times and never thought anything of it.

You, however… Seem to be self conscious about it. 

Maybe he’s the weird one?

“Hey, (y/n),” Kakashi stops you by grabbing your hand.

You startle just slightly before turning to look back at him.

“Hm?” You hum.

“How come you never masturbate in front of me?”

“...Huh?” You tilt your head, a big blush taking over your (s/c) cheeks.

“I think you heard me.”

“Well, I guess I just-” You pause, refusing to look at Kakashi. “I don’t know, I never thought about it before.”

“Yeah?”

Silence… And not the comfortable kind that’s bound to happen between two people who have been together for five years. It’s the uncomfortable kind, the kind that happens when the two of you have an argument or an awkward discussion such as this. To Kakashi, sex isn’t awkward. With you, it never has been. Apparently, though, this aspect of it is awkward to you. The awkwardness is so palpable that Kakashi swears he can smell it in the air as you stammer over your words.

“I guess… I just feel like it’s weird?”

“Do you think it’s weird when I do it in front of you?”

“Well, no, but…”

“But what?”

“You know, with you looking the way you do, of course I wouldn’t mind,” You start to ramble. Your eyes dart between the bedsheets and the hardwood floors. “But you have the figure of a shinobi, and obviously, I don’t, so… I can’t help but be a little self conscious.”

“That’s all?” Kakashi asks, a small smile taking over his face. “I thought I’d done something or… Something. I don’t know.”

“No, you didn’t do anything. Don’t worry about it.”

You turn to walk away again, but before you can, Kakashi speaks up.

“Wait,” Upon hearing his voice, you stop to listen. “It’s important for you to know that I love you, and I’m still really attracted to you despite everything that’s been going on lately. You don’t ever need to be self conscious around me.”

“Oh… Well, that’s sweet of you to say, Kakashi.”

“It’s not me being sweet- it’s true. You’re beautiful,” Kakashi praises you, but he’s not an idiot. He can tell you don’t believe it; that you think he’s just trying to be nice or spare your feelings. Even after years of being with you, he has yet to make sense of why you’re so quick to brush off compliments. “I’ve never in my life wanted another ninja the way I want you.”

“Thank you,” You say with a sheepish smile. “You’re the best at making me feel better, but do you uh… Want me to…?”

“Want you to what?” Kakashi questions, raising an eyebrow. 

“Get myself off in front of you… Like you said,” You answer.

“Oh,” Kakashi blinks, then rushes to give you a good response before you get embarrassed and retract your offer. “Uh, yeah. I think I’d like it if you did, but you don’t have to if you’re not comfortable.”

“Okay,” You nod. “I think I’d like to try it soon.”

“Alright, but there’s really no pressure. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, and if we do decide to do it, you can stop at any time, and we can pretend it never happened.”

“Alright,” You say, but still, turn to the master bathroom with your vibrator in hand. “I’ll be right back… We can shower together after, okay?”

“Yeah… Sure.”

When you disappear into the other room, Kakashi sighs and pulls his pants down, wrapping a hand around the base of his length.

‘Another night of this… God, I miss her.’

~

The next day, while Kakashi is at a doctor’s appointment, you go on a shopping spree with some of your friends; Anko, Shizune, Kurenai, and Iruka. Your job as Anbu’s record keeper doesn’t pay an exorbitant amount, but it’s enough for you to comfortably support yourself and still be able to buy nice things, especially since you split your bills with Kakashi these days following his moving in with you.

So, when you pass by the nicest clothing store in Konoha’s shopping district and notice a beautiful (f/c) lingerie set on display in the window, you stop and look at it. 

The price is reasonable enough. It’s on sale, too.

You think back to last night; to that make out session with Kakashi and the awkward conversation that ensued. Maybe it would be nice for you to dress up for him since it’s been a couple months… You read something like that in one of his books once; the woman dresses up in a sexy outfit and sprawls out on the bed for the man to come home to. That seems right up his alley. Why not do it?

It’s a thought that makes you giddy at first, but then the doubt starts to creep into the back of your mind. What if it doesn’t look good on you? What if Kakashi’s turned off by it, or think it’s a stupid idea since the two of you can’t have sex right now? You want to try to please yourself in front of him like he mentioned… You’re just so terrified of him being unimpressed with you that you’re not sure if you can bring yourself to do it, even though he said he’d like it if you would.

You look around at your friends. They’re all shinobi with cut, perfect bodies, just like Kakashi. Beautifully slim waists, toned muscles, long legs, and so much talent. At times like this, you wonder why Kakashi is with a civilian record keeper like you instead of a beautiful kunoichi. You’re a good person, and you certainly don’t think you’re hideous or anything, but it’s difficult to maintain good self-esteem when you feel like you’re constantly surrounded by women who are more gorgeous than you.

Your eyes flicker to the lingerie set once more. You think about how you would look in it, versus how someone like Lady Tsunade would look in it… Obviously, a huge difference.

You’re not ridiculously out of shape- it’s impossible to be when you’re dating someone like Kakashi. Sadly, though, you don’t see yourself as a beautiful kunoichi either.

You frown.

What to do…

Kurenai interrupts your thoughts as she places a soft hand on your shoulder and speaks to you.

“What’s wrong, (y/n)?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” You give a dismissive wave with one hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure? It looks like there’s something on your mind.”

“It’s a bit silly, but… I want that lingerie set that’s on display.”

“Do you not have enough money for it?” Kurenai questions and stops to look at the display as well. Your cheeks burn red as the rest of the group notices and stops as well to gawk at the lacy garment. “I could pick it up for you.”

“Oh, no you don’t, Kurenai! You have a whole kid to take care of,” Anko objects and points to baby Mirai, who’s currently in Kurenai’s arms, babbling at the woman and trying to pull at her dark hair. “I’ll buy it for you, (y/n)!”

“No, no. As the most senior of the group and Lady Tsunade’s personal assistant, I make the most money out of all of us, so I should pay for it,” Shizune inserts herself into the conversation as well and reaches into her pockets to pull out a thick leather wallet.

“Why don’t I buy it?” Iruka offers.

“On a teacher’s salary?” Kurenai says with a quirked eyebrow, shaking her head. “I don’t think so, Iruka.”

“Hey, guys, I appreciate you all trying to help, but I have more than enough money to buy it,” You offer a nervous laugh, then stare at the ground, too embarrassed to meet the curious gazes of your friends. “That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is it?” Iruka turns his head to you and asks.

“I’m just scared it won’t look good on me.”

“You only live once,” Anko argues. “Go buy it or I’m buying it for you!”

“Yeah,” Kurenai agrees. “You’re beautiful, (y/n). (f/c) is a nice color on you, too, so I’m sure it’ll look great.”

“Okay, then… I guess I’ll go ahead and buy it for myself.”

Peer pressured by your friends, you trudge into the store and quickly buy yourself the set- even if you’re convinced you’ll never have the bravery to put it on in front of your lover. 

~

Later that night, you find yourself standing in front of the mirror with tears in your eyes. Kakashi is out with Guy, Asuma, Genma, and Ebisu, doing God knows what- though that’s not the problem.

Rather, the problem is the lingerie set you bought from that store earlier. You’re standing in front of your bedroom mirror with pretty makeup on your face, a sparkly choker around your neck, and your hair done. You look good from the neck up, but the lingerie isn’t working; the bra, the panties, the garters, the matching thigh highs… None of it works. Your sex toys are on the bed, waiting to be used. 

With how insecure you’re feeling right now, you’re sure you’ll end up taking all of this off- including the matching (f/c) nail polish, shoving the sex toys in the back in their designated drawer, showering, and crying yourself to sleep before Kakashi even makes it home. 

“Ugh, this is stupid. Why did I even do this?” You groan, unsatisfied with how the lingerie contours your body. Even though it’s your size, it doesn’t fit quite right. You hate the way it makes your butt look, it’s a little too tight around your hips, and the bra just sucks. No wonder it was on sale… You huff and take the choker off, then start to wipe the makeup from your face when you feel a set of large hands on your waist. The makeup wipe and choker both fall to the floor as you gasp in surprise. You glance at the mirror to see Kakashi standing behind you. “Kakashi! I didn’t hear you come in! When did you get home?”

“Hey, pretty girl,” Kakashi greets you and rests his chin on your shoulder. He completely ignores your question in favor of trailing his hands up and down your exposed body. “What’s all this for?”

“I, um…” With Kakashi appearing so suddenly, you feel caught off guard and are unsure of what to do, even as Kakashi spins you around and pulls you close to his chest.

“Did you dress up just for me?”

“Well, yeah, but it doesn’t look the way I wanted.”

“What do you mean? It looks great,” Kakashi drags his mask down his face and leans down to whisper into your ear at the same time he grabs your ass. “How nice to come home to this after the day I’ve had.”

“Yeah? Did you have a rough day?”

“It was just long. As much as I love them, going out with those guys can be so exhausting sometimes, especially after a doctor’s appointment… I’m really pent up because I just couldn’t stop thinking about you… And about last night,” Kakashi gestures back to the bed with a knowing smirk. “I see your toys out on the bed. Was that your plan?”

You blush from your head to the middle of your chest at Kakashi’s words. You were hoping to get changed and erase any evidence of your plan before he got home, but he actually seems… Pleased?

“Well, um-”

“It’s a simple question, (y/n),” Kakashi reaches for your chin and gently tilts it up to make you meet his gaze. “Give me a yes or no answer.”

“...Yes,” You whisper back.

“You were gonna surprise me, hm? What a good girl.”

“Y-Yeah,” You stutter. You’re unsure of where to put your hands, so you place them on Kakashi’s shoulders as you press a kiss against his neck. “Sorry I didn't finish getting ready before you got here.”

“Are you serious right now? Don’t apologize to me for this,” Kakashi laughs, then quickly shifts. His voice drops in pitch and lust glazes over his one visible eye. “Now, get on the bed.”

“Okay.”

You rush to follow Kakashi’s order so fast that you nearly trip over your own feet. You sit on the bed and crawl back with Kakashi following close behind.

“I know it’s been hard for you since I had my injury. Thank you for being so patient, but I don’t want you to have to keep waiting up on me, even if we can’t have sex for a little longer,” Kakashi reaches forward and rests a hand on your cheek, caressing you so tenderly that it makes your heart throb. “I want… To see and help make you feel good.”

“Kakashi, I don’t think it’s such a good idea-” You object, gesturing to his hip, but Kakashi simply shakes his head and sits beside you.

“I won’t do anything crazy, alright?” Kakashi argues as he hurriedly sheds his clothes. His forehead protector, dark blue undershirt, matching pants, face mask, and boxers are all thrown to the floor with haste. When Kakashi looks back at you, the intensity in his eyes has you swallowing a nervous lump in your throat that you didn’t even know was there in the first place. “I don’t think I can handle another night of you disappearing into the bathroom when I’m right here, dying to take care of you.”

“Then… What do you want me to do?”

“Show me how you like to touch yourself.”

And it’s a little awkward. Part of you is tempted to say no, to get embarrassed and back down, to retreat into the bathroom again. But when you look up at Kakashi’s eyes to see how excited he looks, you remember that he thinks you’re beautiful; that he wants this, wants you.

“Okay.”

You scoot back onto the bed, lay your head on the pillow, sprawl out, and reach between your legs with both hands. Your fingers on one hand toy with your clit, while the fingers on the other hand circle your slick entrance. Kakashi grabs your vibrator for you, turns it on, and pushes it into the hand in front of your clit. You take the gesture for what it is and rub your clit with the tip of the vibrator. A low noise leaves your lips as you tilt your head back and close your eyes.

“Look at me,” Kakashi commands, much to your embarrassment. You open your eyes and look up at his face with a pout. Pleasure starts to rumble low in your body like a base. “Good girl… Are you embarrassed?”

“A little,” You answer, but spread your legs a little more and start to fuck yourself with your fingers at a steady pace. 

“Don’t be,” Kakashi says as he grabs his dick by the base and works it until it’s fully hard. Your mouth waters- you wish he would just fuck you, but you know you can’t. “You’re so beautiful, especially like this… Do you see how hard I am for you right now?”

“Y-Yeah,” You breathe out, because you do. Kakashi’s cock is red and stiff, with precum at the tip and veins lining the length of it. “Want it inside me…”

“That’s too bad.”

Kakashi lightly smacks at your wrist, so you slide your fingers out of your pussy and look at him with curious eyes. He doesn’t speak to you, instead laying down, snuggling into your side, and moving a hand between your legs. He fills you back up immediately by sliding two fingers into your heat. The two are quickly followed by a third before he starts fucking you with them so deeply that the action draws a high-pitched moan from between your lips, which is quickly muffled by Kakashi kissing you.

It’s different from regular sex, or even just Kakashi eating you out. You’re used to his face squished between your thighs, buried in your neck, or staring at your back as he has you bent over; not right next to yours, staring, watching.

The noise in the room only contributes to your arousal; the wet squelch that comes from Kakashi’s digits pistoning into you, the low buzz from your vibrator against your clit, the hums and moans from Kakashi as he quickly moves his hand over his dick. A dribble of precum drips down onto your thighs, and you rub them together in excitement for what’s to come.

With Kakashi hitting your sweet spot and kissing you like he’s starving for you, you’re right on the edge, but there’s something stopping you from cumming like this. Your eyes flutter open and meet Kakashi’s. The tomoe in his Sharingan swirl; a sign that he’s trying to record this moment for himself. You realize that it’s the anxiety. A mental block. You’re so self conscious about being watched that it’s keeping you from finishing, because what if you make a weird face? Or a noise that turns him off?

You break away from Kakashi’s kisses to let out a frustrated groan.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I’m-” You huff, dying for release. “I’m super nervous and it’s- it’s making me take way longer than I usually do to finish like this… I’m sorry if I’m taking too long.”

“Stop. You’re not taking too long at all,” Kakashi scolds you as he continues to pump his cock with one hand and thrust his fingers in and out of you with the other. “If you want to be good for me, you’ll cum, and I don’t care how long it takes... You can take all night if you want, pretty girl. It’s not that different from sex, okay? Take your time.”

You don’t do anything in response except to let out a needy whine, which seems to please Kakashi, who alternates between kissing your neck and tits. His approval- the lack of judgment, the admiration, the utter love and adoration- is what sends you over the edge as you dial your vibrator to the highest setting and arch your back. You cum with a loud cry and fall flat onto the bed. 

Your legs tremble and shake as you pull your vibrator away from your clit and jerk away from Kakashi’s fingers. He’s kind enough to gently slide them out as he paints your thighs white with his cum, his face buried in your neck and your name leaving his lips like it’s a mantra. You pull him close and press a kiss into his sweat-dampened hair. Your eyes flutter open and shut as Kakashi continues to kiss at your neck, worshiping you even after the both of you have finished.

“Kakashi?” You start.

“Hm?” He hums and pulls away from your neck to glance up at you with one charcoal eye and one ruby red one. “What is it, (y/n)?”

“Did you really like that, or did you only want to do it because you thought I’d like it? You know, since we haven’t been able to have sex?”

“Mah, you always overthink everything,” Kakashi grumbles and sits straight up on the bed. “I did it because I thought you’d like it and because I knew I’d like it. It’s like I said before; you’re beautiful. Can you blame me for wanting to watch you a bit?”

Even with Kakashi’s sweet words, you can’t help feeling self conscious… But tonight has made you feel a little better. You don’t know how to respond, so instead, you reach for Kakashi’s hand and hold it within your own.

“Why don’t we go shower and change the sheets?” You ask, gesturing to the wet spots on the bed from what the two of you have just done. “We’re kind of a mess.”

“Sure,” Kakashi answers, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. Before he enters the room, he turns to look at you over his shoulder. “But don’t be surprised if a shower leads to a round two.”

With that, he’s gone into the bathroom, and you can’t help but laugh as you get up and follow after him.

[divinebunnii]

long / personal story ~ tw: ed recovery

these two photos are almost exactly 3 years apart. I struggled for my entire life with an eating disorder caused by my own chronic pain and physical ailments. it got very hard for several years trying to even maintain the small amount of weight I did have, but my ribcage hurt because my skin was pressed so tight to the bones, my arthritis in my knees and hips was unrelenting in pain, sleeping was impossible because my sides would just go numb.

then I found out I have endometriosis, a painful disease that overwhelms the ovarian tubes and uterus and I decided to put myself on birthcontrol to get that pain under control.

then slowly, i started having more of an appetite. they mentioned I might gain weight, and I cried at the fact that there was hope for me to have meat and squish and phat. I kept the light off in my bathroom so I didn’t have to look at my progress, all I did was open a tumblr blog and started taking photographs to chart and track as well as find a community of sex positive and lovely souls.

3 years, many different deactivated tumblrs, and that one picture of the left that is the only reminder from then just how small and malnourished I was. this one picture that shows just how tight and painful being that thin is, one picture that I now have to look back on and smile at the body I tried to take care of, and finally returned the favor when I could take care of just one pain.

on the right was today, my thighs don’t have a space between them anymore when I stand, my hips and knees have more cushion so my arthritis doesn’t act up as much, my curves are here and real and squeezable, my ass oh boi my ass is the phattest it’s ever been and I jiggle when I walk now.

Struggle lasts a long time sometimes, but when we finally are able to get just one thing under control, a lot of other things fall into place. I may not be able to eat everything I wish I could, but that’s just part of being an adult and taking care of my temple. This body loves me, and I love it, and will continue to nurture and grow with it ~

thank you to all of those that have known me these many years, to those that have uplifted and supported my growth, and a huge smooch to those that are still on their journey, are just starting, or haven’t begun yet. we got this ✨

~ okay to rb ~

[hauntedwitch04]

Owl

Modern!Rhysand x reader

Words: about 1.0k words

Warnings: some angst but than is totally fluff and happy, rhysie is just a lovey dovey

Author’s note: Hi everybody! Sorry to be this late, life is just being crazy right now. I hope you like this, even if I know it's note exactly my best!

P.s this is the result of a sleepy trip on the train to get at uni :), like every oneshot I'm writing btw ahahah

Requests are open I Ask

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🎃Halloween party 🎃

DAY 9: "Did you really gift me an owl?" "You love the little one from Harry Potter, so i thought it would be a good gift."

You have known Rhys since you were very young, but even today you are still sometimes amazed at the shit he can pull off.

Your father worked for his father at the Night C. Corporation, was his right-hand man, and that always allowed the two of you to hang out and play together. As you grew up then you became closer and closer, being part of the same group of friends and supporting each other in the escapes you both made from your homes, tired of the toxic environment you lived in.

You never had a good relationship with or your own, and because of that you considered her mother to be your own, since she also considered you essentially a daughter.

You were beside him in all the moments of his life, both the good and the bad. You were by his side even as he buried his mother and sister, whom you also regarded as a younger sister and loved sincerely, who died in a car accident with the father of what was once his best friend, Tamlin, who was hardly hurt in the accident.

At the funeral, you had seen him shed only one tear, a single drop of weeping had run down his face during the entire event, as he stood next to his father, who as always had a hard, impenetrable gaze, although this time in his eyes you could actually see the pain of loss. Rhys had only let himself go with you, when you had gone to his room in the evening to tell him you were going home and to say good night. He had fallen to the floor in front of you, hugging your knees as he cried in despair, immediately you had lowered yourself to his level and hugged him, letting him vent in the crook of his neck as I gently stroked his back.

Eventually you had fallen asleep hugging him as you held him close, since he had asked you to stay and if he could hold you because he needed human contact, or rather he needed to feel you close.

A few months after this had happened his father had also died, however, from natural causes, leaving him holding his entire empire when he was little more than a boy.

You even here never abandoned him and helped him to run what was left to him, and he in return had appointed you vice president. Many had not appreciated this choice, along with that of hiring his most various friends on the board, and he in response had simply fired them.

And that brings us to where we are today. You just closed a deal today with Helion, the CEO of the Day&Day Company, and in keeping with tradition Rhys gave you a gift. You had taken the rounds of giving you a gift every time someone closes a deal after you had muddled through a virtually impossible one, and Rhys wanted to thank you.

You laugh thinking about what Rhys could have gotten you; last time it was a pink cowboy hat that now hangs above your bed. You enter his studio and are greeted by an incredible image.

Rhys is behind his desk, behind a small cage, inside of which is an owl inside.

"Whose owl is it?" You ask bewilderedly, as you approach. It's really beautiful, and you can't help but touch its feathers, feeling how biting they are.

"Yours." Your friend simply says, as he walks around the table to come beside you and put an arm around your shoulders.

"Did you really gift me an owl?" Ask shocked and amused at the same time.

"You love the little one from Harry Potter, so i thought it would be a good gift." He responds as if it were the most obvious thing.

"You are not well my darling." You comment before turning to him and looking into his eyes. "Thank you, though. I've always wanted an owl, ever since I saw Harry Potter when I was little." You finish laughing as you hug him.

He returns the gesture, but not before whispering something in your ear.

"They had thought of another gift also, however, I need to know if you want it or not." Rhys says, pulling away from the embrace a little, but still holding me in his arms.

It has been a few years now that the slight boundary between friendship and something more is becoming more and more blurred, constantly flirting with each other or through gestures that blatantly no two friends would ever make, so much so that your friends do nothing but tease you.

"And what would that be?" You ask in a whisper. He adjusts a strand of your hair, then approaches your ear again.

"Well a dinner in your favorite restaurant, at seven o'clock, just you, me and a bottle of wine." He proposes, and looking into his eyes you understand perfectly that tonight the relationship between the two of you will inevitably change, you have been pretending not to know this for too many years now by covering your eyes, but at the same time you cannot wait for the moment when it will happen.

"You can count on it." You respond by leaving him a kiss on his cheek, already dreaming of receiving a different kind of kiss from him this evening.

[dilfismz]

Remember Your Place

Description-You’re stuck in detention at the same time as your asshole of an ex boyfriend, Tom Riddle. Throughout your time together Tom makes it his mission to remind you that he owns you.

Warnings- Dubcon, coercion, oral (M receiving), degradation, dumbification, and strong language. I just read this over and it’s definitely darker than I intended…18+ please!

You’ve managed to land yourself a detention during your last month at Hogwarts. It’s been nearly seven years and of course I couldn’t keep my record completely clean, you think, walking into the empty potions classroom. You take a seat in the corner of the room, hoping that you’re the only person serving time in detention today.

Finally, after being left alone with your thoughts for minutes, Slughorn trudges into his classroom lazily. After a few seconds of scanning the room he spots you and jokes, “you don’t have to sit all the way in the back for detention.”

“I wasn’t sure how many other people would be in here with me”, you respond politely, smiling at the older man.

“Right now it’s just you but someone else will be coming. I would stay and watch you but both of you are trustworthy students so just make sure to keep each other in line. I have a meeting with Dumbledore”, Slughorn declares before walking out of the door.

Almost as if on cue, the second Slughorn closes the door behind him it is opened again. This time by a tall, black haired young man that you immediately recognize as your ex. He shoots you his signature smirk and muses, “Aw look at this, you look so happy to see me”.

“Ya right, Riddle”, you respond immediately.

Tom tilts his head to the side and hums acknowledging your comment. Fuck he’s annoying, you think to yourself. However, you can’t help but notice that he’s become seemingly more attractive since you saw him last.

Tom glances around the classroom, searching for the perfect seat to torment you from. He flashes you his smile, once again and takes the seat right next to you. You roll your eyes and bitterly say, “Tom, surely you have better things to do than pester me”.

Tom’s smile drops at this comment, he is undeniably upset. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that, do I need to remind you of your place”, Tom spits out, grabbing your cheeks firmly and turning your head to face him. Your eyes fill up with tears as Tom doesn’t let go of his firm hold on your face, almost definitely leaving bruises. You’re disgusted to admit that just feeling his rough hands on you again sent an immediate heat down to your core.

Once he finally let’s go of his grip your face you sputter, “M-my place Tom? We aren’t together anymore you can’t just say shit like that!”

“Come on bunny”, Tom murmurs while running his hands through your hair. He grabs the back of your head lightly and leans into you. He seductively whispers in your ear, “Don’t you wanna be my good girl?”

“N-no Tom I..”, you trail off, melting under his cold touch as he reaches his hands under your shirt. Tom gropes and pulls at your breasts, pulling pathetic moans out of you.

“You what, princess? Can you speak up like a big girl?”

“I want to be y-your good girl”, you cave in, a breathy moan escaping your lips mid sentence.

“Awe I knew you’d give in like the pathetic little cockslut that you are. How about you get down on your knees and make daddy proud?”

You slowly sink onto your knees, removing your shirt and bra completely, determined to give Tom a show. Tom pulls down his slacks and his veiny cock springs up, hitting his stomach with a thwap.

Your mouth is almost watering at the sight, you forgot how big Tom was. He grins down at you, pulling your hair, eliciting a low moan. You offer a few kitten licks at the base and tip of his cock, deciding to tease him a bit.

“Hurry it up princess, we don’t have all day”, Tom commands, slapping your face with his cock lightly.

You obey immediately, taking his entire length down your throat. You bob your head slowly up and down his shaft, avoiding eye contact out of sheer embarrassment.

“Look at me while I fuck your throat, I wanna watch your eyes water while I shove my dick in your mouth”, Tom commands.

You look upwards, making eye contact with Tom. He growls in response and bucks his hips up, forcing his cock as far as it will go. Tom places his hand on the back of your head and continues to fuck your throat in that brutal pace.

“I’m gonna cum babygirl and you’re gonna swallow all of it for me”, Tom announces aloud.

Suddenly, a warm and thick liquid spills out down your throat. You choke in surprise and then swallow everything he had spilled inside you.

“Good girl, I knew you’d give in”, Tom smiles before pulling up his trousers and patting his lap. You crawl on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I missed this Y/n, I missed you..”, Tom trails off a smile ghosted on his face.

“I missed you too Tom”, you reply, leaving a sweet kiss on his cheek.

[excuseyoubrothar]

Ateez reaction to olympic athlete reader.

This is goofy. Just reliving my goals from when i was an (not an olympic) athlete and wanted my 2 worlds to collide (i sucked fr)

HONGJOONG

"Come on y/n" Hongjoong says once again, speaking to you through the tv screen as if you can hear him. Meanwhile, you take a deep breath, letting your body start to move to the beat of your boyfriend's song, Blind. You start your routine only thinking of your moves and he knows it, watching you from the other side of the world, oh so proud of you. And when you finish your routine, rhythmically finishing up your flips, Hongjoong is the alarm that wakes up everyone in the dorm. "GOLD. Y/N JUST WON GOLD!SHE MADE IT!"

SEONGHWA

Pushing yourself once again, you do one last flip on the balance beam, having no view of how good or bad you are. Landing on your feet,quite sloppily, you swear you can hear Seonghwa from the crowd. "MY DARLING MADE IT! YOU GOT THE GOLD!OOHOOOO!!" He yells happily as you approach him. You have no heart to tell him that you, in fact, did not get the gold medal. But with his support,you know you'll make it next time. And when you tell him that you missed your chance to get any medal, he will hold you in his arms, reassuring you that one day does not determine your entire athletic career. And you tell yourself that you will try harder next time, just so you can see his lovely reaction again. Your love, your biggest supporter.

YUNHO

You mindlessly flip in the air, holding steadily onto the uneven bars after every correct move that you make. Yunho is sitting in the crowd, nervously watching, knowing how hard you have worked for this. "Come on my love. One last flip." He whispers to himself, having learned your routine by heart."She's got it, i know it,come on come on come on come on come o-" And when you land perfectly on your feet, he is the first to jump up, letting out a yell that immediately makes him embarassed. But he gets over it quickly when those around him congratulate him on his girlfriend's success, and he relaxes when you run up to him, melting into his hug. His nervousness disappeared in a minute, feeling you let out all the pressure after all the hard work you've put into your dream. And he is just mesmerized by your elegance and beauty. "My baby, you made it." He says as you cry into him. He knows. And he'll show you just how proud he is later that night, in the comfort of his arms.

YEOSANG

"TIME" The referee yells and you have just a couple of minutes to take a quick rest in between the sets. Tennis is a hard sport, a lot of running, and Yeosang knows how tired you must be, trying your best. What he did not expect was you running up to him in the few seconds of time out you have left. "Yeo, please, my cap is stuck and it's hurting my hair, i can't get it out." And oh boy does he feel like a superhero coming to the rescue, readjusting your cap quickly and carefully, patting your head. "Go win y/n! You are so close!" He says quietly, but loud enough for you to hear. And when he mouths a "you got this." while squeezing his fists, you know you need to clear the last set. And you do. Becoming number 1. World's number 1. You were always Yeosangs #1. But now you are everyone's. And he played a bigger part in it that he knows, by just being there and showing up.

SAN

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod-" San is chanting under his breath as he sees you slapping your thighs and knees, trying to get yourself back together after your previous jump. Long jump is a hard sport, and your really bad last 2 jumps are making him so nervous and scared. "Come on Y/N. Come on. What's gotten into you?" He is whispering, hoping that his prays will reach your aura. FINAL JUMP is written right next to your name. He wishes he could tell you that 3rd place is not bad, you are still a winner. But he knows you will not be satisfied with yourself. You wanted gold, you wanted to be number one. But today is just not your day. And as he is watching through the tv of the dorms, making sure the members are quiet, he wishes he was right next to you to let you know that you are doing amazing. But as he has his "you did amazing" speech ready, you start running, then jump with all the force you have in you.

"Oh, she did 7,56." "That's good right?" "I'm not sure" "i think it's the best jump this year, she definitely got gold" "no the best one was 9,20" "no one has ever done 9,20 idiot, that was 6,20" "oh i read it as a 9 cause i was laying down" "7,56 sounds like not much to be honest" "yeah right, let's see you do better-" "that's almost 8 meters fucking bastard" "so it's like Y/N jumped up to my dorm on the second floor?" "Kinda like that ye--"

"GUYS." San interrupts the members. " SHE DID 7,56."

"Uh.. yeah?"

"SHE JUST BROKE THE WORLD RECORD"

MINGI

"This girl is going to be the death of me" Mingi says to Yunho as they sit nervously in the crowd. "She can never get satisfied with herself, always 'i can do better' blah blah blah" Mingi complains once again, worried about your well being. You have made him furious today, complaining right after winning gold medal that this is not enough, and running to try and break the world record for women's high jump. You are pushing yourself too hard and that is what scares him the most, but Mingi will never let you know that. He is always there, always supporting. And when immediately after he congratulated you,you said that 5,6 was the world record and that you were going to break it, ignoring the gold medal you just won, he looked at you with all his love and told you "you got this." But as soon as you started preparing for your attempt, he wanted to punch everyone around him for no reason, freaking out and hoping you will make it. After the first failed attempt, he cheered you up from afar. After the second failed attempt, he held onto Yunho's shirt so tight that this part of the live broadcast became a global meme. And now that you start running, pole in your hands, jumping as high as you can, flying so high up he thinks you will disappear into the atmosphere, his world stops.

"BABY, HOLY SHIT!" Mingi jumps almost as high as you did, happy for his girl, all his worries disappearing. "MY GIRL JUST BROKE THE WORLD RECORD!" He loves you and your commitment.

WOOYOUNG

"PUSH BACK! Y/N PUSH BACK! ARE YOU ASLEEP? BABY, GRAB HER BY THE BOOB! COME ON---" "-Wooyoung she CANNOT grab her opponent by the chest. That is against the rules!" Hongjoong tries to keep your boyfriend, that obviously has no idea how wrestling rules work, to his seat."Oh fuck come on FINISH THIS UP!!" San's hisses can be heard over Wooyoung's yells as you pin down your opponent, gaining your winning score. "SHE WON! GUYS SHE WON! NOW KNOCK HER OUT!" "Wooyoung, she cannot knock her oppo--" Hongjoong continues explaining all the reasons why you couldn't have won in different ways for the rest of the night, while you have to convince security that your boyfriend is just joking. Your boyfriend may have caused a hell of a scene, but oh boy didn't his reaction make you both viral on socials, starting a new era of memes, 'Wooyoung's reaction to his olympic athlete partner winning gold medal'. How can you be mad at his support?

JONGHO

You touch the vault and push your entire bodyweight up, flipping in the air as if you're just a cloud, so elegant even in the high intensity gymnastics. And when you nail the landing, perfectly balancing yourself after all those flips, Jongho is the first to clap for you and cheer so proudly, making sure to let the random grandpa know that you are his wife, even when you're not. Cause that was the moment he realised how you must feel everytime he goes on stage. Scared, anxious, excited and praying to higher forces with your fingers crossed for him. And he knows this is not the type of pressure many people would endure for their other half. But you both love the adrenaline that comes with it. And you love each other. And he makes sure you know that by preparing you the most amazing congratulating dinner you've ever had. "You made it,little bear".

[atlasdoe]

today (May 2nd) marks an entire year since i last updated Only Survivors so to prove to you that i am actually writing the next chapter here's a snippet

"And where are your school friends today, Severus?" Emmeline asked, feeling the blood rush into her ears with each word.

Snape looked unfazed. "One of them Is currently working at Hogwarts alongside me," he answered with a smile. Aurora Sinistra, Emmeline recalled.

Snape went on. "Another is working with children across the UK. She's helping provide homes for those who lost their parents during the war." Charity Burbage. "I'm not sure what one of them is doing. After the war he left and I haven't heard from him since."

Emmeline had a hard time placing that one before Remus scoffed with an eye roll. "Yeah, that's because he wasn't just a Death Eater but a liar," he accused, causing Emmeline to remember. Ah yes, Edmund Avery Jr.

Severus shrugged, but didn't say anything in response, he just continued. "Two of them were killed during the war." Evan Rosier and Juliette Wilkes. "And the last..." he sighed and finished his drink. "The last is in Azkaban." Bruce Mulciber.

Emmeline expected Snape to show some kind of remorse. She thought that he would cry or admit that he didn't spend their school years with the right people as she had seen Pandora do so many times since Frank and Alce's torture. Only Snape didn't seem sorry at all. Instead, he turned to Remus.

"Two are successful," he said simply. "That's something you wouldn't be able to relate to."

Remus' jaw clenched but he stayed silent. Snape smirked slightly and spoke again. "Two are successful," he repeated. "One I haven't heard from in years, two were killed and the last is in Azkaban." Their eyes locked as Snape's smirk grew. "What was that you were saying? About how different we are?"

"Don't you dare," Remus hissed, standing up despite his bad knees and pushing the table away. "Your friends killed my friends!"

"My friends had nothing to do with the death of Lily, James and Peter," Snape argued, also standing up and mirroring Remus' stance leaning across the table. "The person who killed your friends is called Sirius Black, and you know more than anyone that he is anything but my friend." Snape's head tilted, as his face suddenly grew an amused expression. "What was he to you, Lupin?" he mocked.

Remus' face did something that Emmeline had never seen it do before. All expression of anything gentle had been replaced with what could only be described as his wolf side coming out. She, along with Gilderoy both held their breath as they watched the two men stand off.

In the past six years that Emmeline had gotten to know Snape and Remus after the war, she knew that neither of their first insistences would be violent, but at that moment it looked as if Remus was about to transform into the wolf and kill Snape there and then. Snape's face still held the cruel smile. He knew that he struck the exact nerve that he wanted to and as much as Emmeline wanted to hate him for it, she couldn't. Snape was right. They really weren't that different after all.

Something in Remus' eyes told Emmeline that he was thinking the same. She didn't know if she should've prepared herself for him to hit Snape or hug him. In the end, he did what she really should've expected him to do all along, considering it's all he ever seems to be capable of. Remus didn't face the facts head on or even try to deny them. He just drew back and walked away.

That was the difference between them, Emmeline realised. At least Snape had the courage to not run away from his past.

[idontplaytrack]

Diamonds falling down

Amber Appleton x fem! reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, sickfic, age regression, a bit of baby talk(?)

"And I don't know what I'm supposed to do But if she feels bad, then I do, too So I let her be"

One day at a time. You’ve always heard this saying from people around you. If it wasn’t this, it was ‘you’re so strong’, ‘oh, my god. I could never do what you’re doing’ And frankly, you were a little sick of it. You’ve been sick your entire life, always in and out of the hospital— and in your teens, that’s when things lost control. You had a new diagnosis, and new chronic pain among other symptoms. It became draining because you were at an age where you were so aware of what was going on in your body. You were tired of fighting. Everyday felt like an uphill battle. It took you a long time to feel like yourself again following the diagnoses, and when Amber came into your life, you couldn’t help but fall in love with her. Even though it was so scary for you and you didn’t have the guts to even ask her out. She took notice of you, however, and was chatting with you almost all the time. Talking to her was when you’d felt seen and heard, a vast difference from how things have been like in your life since getting sick. When you told Amber about your demon of a chronic illness, you were confused because she didn’t run away. Instead, she asked you more— she wanted to know more. You couldn’t believe it, you couldn’t fathom that someone was actually that interested in you. Someone like you, who was so broken by life’s…challenges.

Amber in a way, gave you a sense of purpose. You looked forward to each new day because you knew she’d be there. You knew that she’d be there for you. Just like she’s been for the past year and a half. Yep, a year and a half— you couldn’t even believe it yourself.

Anyway today was one of those days were the demons have caused you to barely be able to move— let alone get out of bed. After breakfast, you were hit with a wave of searing pain in your lower left side that nearly had you falling to your knees. Clutching on the counter for support, you were crouched over, breathing through it until you didn’t feel the pain anymore. Well, it lingered but mostly died down. So you dragged yourself upstairs, hoping it doesn’t hit you again until you were at least in bed.

Yeah, fuck it. You weren’t going anywhere today. Your parents have already left for work long before you woke up, so…no one was going to stop you.

Cyst rupture - 1, you- 0.

Also…you were going to be running a little late already even if you went. So you weren’t gonna be having a good day anyway, considering how you had also had something else you didn’t tell Amber about.

Your phone started to buzz after awhile, it must be Amber texting you. You didn’t even have the capability to reach over and grab the device since every bit of movement right now worsens the pain. What you did was just to curl up in a fetal position and fall back asleep so you didn’t have to feel it.

Expectedly, you only drifted in and out of sleep which was quite restless. But when you woke up eventually, the pain was gone so you took the chance to go downstairs and grab your bottle of pain meds, water and some snacks. Just getting the essentials you needed to make it through the day. You ate a snack, drank a bit of water then quickly swallowed the pill, wanting it to take effect ASAP. You didn’t even know what time it was until you heard noise coming from the foyer, followed by rushed steps up the stairs. Amber literally burst into your room as you locked eyes with her. Her gaze softened immediately as she sat down next to you and leaned down to kiss you on the side of your head.

————

Living in Portland, the weather obviously got cold this time of year. So you were already feeling a flare up creeping up on you for the last few days, this pain from ovarian cyst rupture only sent you over the edge. “Sorry.” You muttered, “I couldn’t.”

“That’s okay. I get it. We’ve talked about this.” Amber assured, stroking your cheek before she pulled your blanket up higher. “Have you had anything to eat yet?”

“No. Just — the snacks.” You revealed.

“Where hurts, baby?” She asks quietly.

You couldn’t even answer her, which she found very strange. You would always tell her, that was the agreement. “Baby, talk to me.”

That started a complete meltdown, you were just sobbing your eyes out, shocking her to the core. It was so abrupt. She thought it must be bad, really bad. Amber’s never seen you like that before. But it seems to her that the nickname set you off.

“y/n,” Amber says, her palm resting on your abdomen to rub it in an attempt to calm you down. You flinched and cried out in pain. Squinting her eyes, she noticed something— underneath the thin fabric of your t-shirt, she felt a different…texture. Like a bandaid? She carefully lifted the fabric of your shirt to check, and her eyes nearly fell out of her head. It was surgical dressing. Which looked like it was supposed to be changed already. Amber was fuming. Why were you left home alone in this state? She gets up to step out into the hallway to make a call but you pulled her hand, refusing to let her leave. “Okay. Okay, baby. I’m right here.” She soothed.

Amber held her phone to her ear with one hand, the other was pulling your shirt back down while her eyes watched you closely.

“Iris.”

“Yes? Amber?”

“When did y/n go for the surgery?”

“Surgery? It’s just a procedure.”

“Iris, when?” Amber chewed on her lower lip, exhaling harshly.

“Two days ago.” Your mother answered, irritated.

“Why is she home alone so soon post-op?”

“She’s fine, she’s a big girl.” Iris scoffed, “She can take care of herself.”

Amber hung up when she heard that, putting her phone aside. “I need to get you a new dressing, babe.”

You looked clueless.

She couldn’t carry you, but she knew you needed that dressing changed— stat. So she got up to look for a new one and found a bag of them, along with medications and discharge instructions sitting on the kitchen counter. What did you do in the minute that she was away? Cry. You were still crying, terribly upset and uncomfortable, without better ways to express yourself now that you’ve…slipped. Grabbing the box of tissues from your vanity and pack of anti-bacterial wipes sitting on your desk along the way, she sat down next to you. You looked at her with teary eyes, breathing quicker than she liked you to be right now. Setting the items down, she held onto your hand. “You’re okay, I got you, baby.”

“Hurts.” You mumbled.

“I know, munchkin, I’m sorry.”

You clearly had no clue that you were one day post-op right now given your current state. Amber figured it out while walking downstairs to gather the supplies— she’s just never dealt with you when you were having a meltdown like this one. But thankfully, you seemed to have calmed yourself down significantly. “Stay still for me, hm?” She lets go of your hand and handed you a stuffed animal to hold onto in the meantime. “I need to change this bandaid for you, okay?”

You sniffled, nodding your head as you swallowed thickly as you hugged the stuffed rabbit. Amber leaned closer to get a better look of the dressing and determine the best way to remove it. She manages to get a corner of it off, but not without you yelping and flinching. She seethed, deciding to make use of a wet wipe to loosen up the adhesive and make sure there was lesser irritation. Of course, she was careful not to get the incision itself wet. It wasn’t her first time caring for you post-op, or well, post-procedure in your mother’s words. Either way, she successfully removes the used dressing and promptly cleaned around the area before sticking on a new one.

“All done.” Amber smiled at you before getting up again to get rid of the dressing’s wrapper.

Amber manages to get you to lie down more comfortably, then snuggles with you. You didn’t say anything, but she knew it always helps you feel better. “I feel funny.” You looked up at her. She feels your forehead with the back of her hand— you weren’t having a fever anymore. Which you did have before they decided to release you from the hospital. “Your tummy?”

You nodded, clinging onto her. “Do you want to go to the bathroom? I’ll help you.” You don’t resist, so she got you out of bed and helped you to the bathroom before you threw up. She wasn’t going to let you kneel knowing how difficult it would be, so she actually sat down on the edge of the tub so you could sit on her lap while you were bent over the toilet, fighting a gag. The procedure caused you a great deal of bloating, and the anesthesia causes you to be nauseous, so putting both together, this was expected. It sucked, but it was expected. Even after a bit of time’s passed already. Eventually, what little you managed to eat was regurgitated, sending you to tears. Broke Amber’s heart that you needed to feel like that, but it was a whole process. Inevitable process. She rubs your back, whispering words of assurances to you, “You’re alright, angel. I promise. Okay? Feel better?”

“Yes.” You murmured, and very slowly, she guided you back into your room, and had you sit down. But before she could say anything else, you were already crawling under the covers. With the bag of medications now being moved to your nightstand, she picks up the sheet containing discharge instructions and gave it a read.

“Mommy, hugs.” You sulked, Amber looks up from the paper and at you.

“Alright, I’m here, angel.” You moved up so she was right next to you, “C’mere.” She wrapped her arm around you for a bit but ultimately shifted you so that you were snuggled up against her. Your pain meds have started to kick in, but you were still regressed though you were no longer in a bad mood. Amber continually rubbed your lower back while she kept her focus on the paper she was trying to finish reading. By the time Amber was done, you’d dozed off, snuggled against her side and cuddling the same stuffed rabbit. She watches you sleep for awhile, then tucked you in properly. Following that, Amber goes around your room to tidy it up. It wasn’t too bad, but Amber believes that a cluttered space makes one feel worse. She also made sure she cleared out your trashcan and lined it with a new plastic bag just in case you needed it later and couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time. Very quietly, Amber descended the stairs and checked the pantry.

There was bread, so she could make you some toast. But then she saw applesauce, another good option since your stomach was likely still going to be upset for awhile. Now that you were asleep, she didn’t have anything to do. So she walked around your house for a bit before sitting with you again in your bed. But she lays down this time, instinctively stroking your arm or patting your back while you slept— arguably the most peaceful you’ve been all day. She’d brought your homework with her but now obviously wasn’t the time to have you work on that. Well, she also succumbed to sleep after some time and only woke up when she felt you stirring in your sleep. A quiet whine falls from your mouth. Were you in pain again? She hoped not.

“Hey.” She hums, “Baby, you’re okay. I’m right here. I’m right here, baby.”

“I’m hungy.” You mumbled.

“I’ll go make you some food? You want something?”

“I don’t know what I want.” You pouted, shifting uneasily. Every movement caused you an ache.

“How about applesauce?” She suggests.

“Okay.” You gulped, “Yeah.”

You got out of bed, and she got flustered. Immediately, she held onto you. “Baby, be careful.”

“I need to go potty.” You took a deep breath and immediately winced from the uncomfortable feeling.

“Sure, come on, I got you.” Amber held onto your arm as you walked. The bathroom door was left open, somehow Amber was too worried to leave. And she was right not to.

“Ah!” You seethed, hands balled into fists which caused her head to snap towards your direction.

She squints, “What’s wrong, baby?”

It probably hurt when you went, this was stated in the sheet as one of the possible ‘after effects’ of the catheter they had to have you use during the procedure and some hours after.

“Breathe, y/n. It’s alright, it’ll go away. Just breathe.” She cajoled.

Food aside, she also ensured you drank enough fluids to prevent other issues from surfacing. The sun was beginning to set at this point, casting a goldenish hue across the interior of the house. That brightened your mood a little to see. You were now in the living area, just sitting on the couch and watching the view. You loved the atmosphere now— it felt really calming. Amber was just walking back to you from the kitchen after grabbing two cups of applesauce and a coconut yogurt pouch. “You okay, honey?”

You nod, holding out your arms and wanting to cling onto her again. She lets you— obviously.

“You wanna do it yourself?” She opened up the cup for you and held out a spoon for you.

You shook your head without a word, then just leaned onto her, your face smushed against her arm. She laughed, smooching the top of your head. “Okay, here we are. Ah, open up.” She nudged, the spoon right by your lips. You listened and just ate like she told you to, the hunger was getting to you so you fought through the stomach discomfort. “Good girl.” She smiled, “Here comes another.”

“Will you stay with me? Sleepover?” You asked, swallowing the mouthful of applesauce while looking at her with big doe eyes. It wasn’t intentional, by any means. You were just like that when you were regressed.

“Of course I will, munchkin. I will sleep over.” Amber looked at you in pure adoration. Her heart melts every time you looked at her like that. The food she got for you? You ate it all and asked for more after. So, Amber was relieved that your appetite was coming back. “What do you want, baby?”

“A sandwich.” You decided.

“You wanna make one with me?” She suggested.

You nodded eagerly. “Alrighty, up we go. C’mon, let’s go to the kitchen.” She says with a bit of a laugh.

“What kind of sandwich do you want, angel?”

“Uh…” You pursed your lips together in thought. What was that called again?

You turned around and opened the fridge, pulling out turkey ham slices and cheese. “That’s what you want?” She asked softly.

“Mhm.” You confirmed.

“Good choice.” Amber grins, getting right to work making a sandwich for you, and then another for herself since it was time for dinner anyway.

You sat next to her at the counter to eat, on her lap, actually. “Is that good?” She asks, biting into the sandwich.

“Yeah.” You nod, mouth full and grinning. She brushed the hair out of your face.

She couldn’t help it but chuckle, “I’m glad. Wanna take a quick shower after then I can do your hair the way you like it?”

“Yes, please.” You leaned your head on her briefly.

“Anything for you, munchkin.”

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

[poprock-gangsta]

𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖗

꧁༒༺ Flame’s only the doctor can fix ༻༒꧂

Summary : Following a guest speaker's appearance in your class, an unusual sensation washes over you. However, it's not a feeling of discomfort; rather, it's as if you've become entranced in a captivating trance.

Kinks : Choking, Degrading, Praise, and Breeding.

Tw: Hypnosis, Drugging, Cursing, Manipulation.

Word Count : 2.6k

Enjoy!

You got out of bed and started on your usual morning routine before leaving for the akademiya. You panic as you try to find your uniform, which you are sure you laid out last night. Finding it, you quickly change and run out the door so as not to waste any more time than necessary.

Once you get there, you look at the time and curse at your tardiness, certain that your teacher will give you a stern talking-to. Your professor gives you the side eye as you walk in and continues to do so as you make your way to your seat. Your professor resumes her lecture as you settle into your seat, and you tune her out. That is, until she mentioned an arriving guest, which immediately piqued your interest.

"Class, we have a visitor all the way from Snezhnaya coming today." You turn to your instructor, wondering what could possibly have compelled someone from Snezhnaya to travel all the way here. A million different possible questions to why the guest was here run through your head. A knock resounded through the classroom, and the air seemed to shift, as if everyone inside knew the person behind the door was someone who commanded respect.

You stare at the tall, pale man with the long, blue hair as he enters the room, trying to get a sense of who he is. Yet the only thing you could point to was that he was truly from Snezhnaya; his outfit clearly demonstrated this, as he was dressed in winter attire even in Sumeru's summer weather.

He seemed to notice that you were looking at him and shot you a glare, which, despite his mask, you could still feel. After a quick exchange, he approaches the podium, where he places his hands on it before casting a glance around the room. Soon after, he started talking, and it was like you were in a trance; you had no idea what he was saying, but you could feel its power.

By the time your consciousness returned, class was over and your unknown visitor had already left. Unable to let go of the inspiring man, you skipped the rest of your lectures and headed outside.

You found him outside the akademiya, talking to what you assumed were his subordinates because they were dressed similarly and were on one knee looking at the ground. "Excuse me, Sir, I was wondering if you would be willing to finish your lesson from just now," you say, clearly showing more excitement than intended. The man looked at you before a long grin spread across his face. "It appears you've taken a liking to my speech," the man says before walking away clearly leading you to follow.

I'm the Dottore, but my enemies call me Doctor," he says, looking back at you for an instant. You then ask , "So what brings you all the way from Snezhnaya," as you stare at the floor. He stops in front of a house and announces, "I've come here for a project of some sort," before opening the door and inviting you inside. "You see, I want to shape Sumeru into a place of wisdom," he says, turning his entire body to you. Coming right up to you and whispers, "Will you help me?" in your ear.

You say, "Of course!" as if in a trance, as if you're unable to say "no" but you don't mind the sensation and may even have come to accept it. Well, I can't wait to see you tomorrow," he says, leading me back with a grin on his face. You flash back a smile and then run off to your own house, where your happy expression lasts the entire trip. When you arrived, you noticed that the cloudiness in your mind began to lift, but you can't say that you don't miss its presence.

You get up and do your usual morning routine, packing your bag you head to the akademiya. Then a throbbing pain in your head serves as a reminder that you need to visit Dottore immediately. Your brain seems to be clouded.

You've made it back to the house where Dottore took you the previous day. You knocked, but there wasn't an answer; you kept knocking, but there still wasn't an response. You open the door and look around, but you didn't see anything until you look down and notice the passageway leading underground on the floor.

With the little courage you had left, you made your way down the seemingly endless tunnel. Once you got to the end, though, the view was spectacular. It was a laboratory with all sorts of strange crystals and machines. Dottore, however, was the most impressive sight of all as he sat at his desk, intent on his work.

You fiddle with your figure and say, "Umm Sir Dottore, I've come back," but he either doesn't hear you or chooses to ignore you. You browse the shelves, dragging your fingers across the glass jars and books, until you spot something interesting. Akasha Terminal Brain Waves, you place your hand on the book's spine in preparation to open it, but the forerunner suddenly says, "Don't touch that," without turning from his work.

Come here, he says in a voice as smooth and soothing as honey. You set the book back down and approach him. Saying "yes," though you felt like a puppy who's been grounded for roughhousing. Then, he says, "There's something I need to tell you," as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in, to were your lips gently graze his mask.

While sitting on his thigh, he says, "The truth is I need a little help." While slowly placing his empty hand on the middle of your back. You were so close to him now that you could feel his breath on your collarbone. You wouldn't lie and say the heat of his breath fixed with the coldness of the air wasn't sending shivers down your spine.

You ask, "How can I help?" without letting your gaze wander. He took his hand off your back and reached into the dresser, where he promptly produced a small pill. He runs his fingers over the pill tenderly and explains, "You see, for me to get a full understanding of this medicine I need a test subject.”

Staring intently into his eyes, you say, "So you want me to be your test subject. His hand now flat in front of you, and the pill in plain view. "Only if you want to," he says. At that precise moment, your previously presented headache suddenly dissipated, and you felt as though your mind was completely clear. For once, it seemed like you could make a decision without fear of repercussions.

"I'll do it," grabbing the pill out of his hand you toss it back without thinking twice about whether you'd choke on it or not. After what seems like an interminable round of "100 questions," Dottore finally pulls out his notebook and gives you a quick check up. You both return to the upper floor once he has recorded your answers to his questions. Looking over you one more time , he orders you to check in with him every day and report any adverse effects immediately.

꧁༒༺ Time Skip ༻༒꧂

You and Dottore have been getting along fondly, with daily checkups and his occasional request for your assistance with some of his experiments when you're both free. You're initial impressions were spot-on; he was an exceptionally bright man, the likes of whom you couldn't help but admire on occasion.

However, while you were at home performing your routine admiration ritual. You, suddenly felt off, as if a fire had been started in your entire body. You took this as one of the side effect of the Dottore pill and sprint out the door to get to his place as soon as possible.

When you got there and opened the door, you found the top floor empty. You then proceed downstairs to meet with Dottore. You felt like your legs were going to give out at any second after seeing him, and the heat that had been infecting you had only intensified. So you muster up what little energy you have left and make your way to one of the stools.

Your attention was riveted on Dottore the entire time you were there, and it seemed as though everything he did set you on fire. You grind against the stool slowly, so as not to distract the harbinger. As you sway your hips up and down you felt your cunt throb, you grind deeper into the stool in an effort to increase the friction between your body and the surface. Now that you've settled into a comfortable rhythm, you turn your head to check on Dottore to make sure he hasn't caught on to your good work. Once in the clear you rest your head on the table in front of you and bite down on your arm, trying to stifle a lustful moans.

As a knot forms in your stomach, you tighten your grip and bite down harder on your arm. You bucked your hips against the stool so hard that your leggings were giving out from under you. But just as you were about to unravel into two, a hand wrapped around your throat and jerked your head back.

“Dottore smirks,and says "So this is what you've been doing ," as he ghostly runs a finger across your throbbing clit. “M’ It's not what it seems like,' ' you mutter under your breath. Then which he replies , "So weren’t trying to fuck youself stupid on my stool," as his lips grazes along your ear. You purred a soft “Please “ as you felt your climax slip slowly away.

“Please what," he growls in your ear . You wiggle your hips and say, "P-please fuck me," hoping to generate some friction. After that, Dottore slowly returns to his seat and sits down, opening his legs. And says in urgent yet seductive command "Come here now,". You stand up and make your way towards him, but once you're in front of him, your gaze begins to wander.

“On your knees” he says while watching every inch of you squirm , once you 're finally in front of him, he unbuckles his belt, freeing his cock from the restraints of his pants. His tip was pink and leaking with precum. “Suck”

You nodded and leaned forward, shyly licking the tip of his cock. You collect all the pecuniary that was dripping out of his cock on the tip of your tongue before you taking the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. He groaned and grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing more of his cock into your wet mouth. You gagged around him and he groaned, hips sputtering. You pleasured him as much as you could, running your tongue against the vein that ran along the underside of his cock. “ M’ Fuck Angle… just l-like that “

He groaned, letting out ragged breaths and occasional grunts. He began thrusting into your mouth after a bit, using you as a pleasure hole. The sound of your lewd noises and gagging only spurred him on as he fucked your face, forcing his cock down your throat with each brutal thrust. He thrusted about seven more times before he halted and held your head down, making you deepthroat him. He held his dick in your throat for a solid ten seconds before he pulled out.

You immediately gasped for air, greedily sucking it into your lungs. “ Fuck… Angle that’s a good girl. Now get up and let your doctor take goood care of your “ You caught your breath before getting up and sitting on his lap. He flipped your dress up and revealed your drenched panties that outlined your cunt.

“You‘ve got such a pretty pussy angle. So beautiful “ he complimented, before leaning down to nibble on your ear. Then he hooked his fingers on the sides of your panties and tugged them down, his breath audibly hitching as he took in the sight of your bare, sopping wet cunt.

“You're such a slut. You're sopping wet and I haven’t even touched you yet” He says, dragging his finger along your pussy lips. He drew tight circles on your clit, you moaned and arched your back sinking deeper into him. “There, there my precious slut, I’m going to take such goood care of you”He assured you. He grabbed his cock and lined it up at your entrance, slapping his tip against it a few times.

Just then he slammed himself inside, not giving you anytime to adjust to his length and girth. You meow, as you gripped on to the sides of the chair. “Your so tight for me angle, f..fuck” He buried himself right in your cervix before he dragged his cock back out, leaving just the tip inside before he slamming back in, going so deep.

M’…S’ so deep doctor..f-

You whined, starting to feel in your tummy. He start to pick up his already animalistic pace, stuffing your cute little cunt full of his thick cock.Roughly squeezing your thighs each time he went balls-deep in your pussy.

“ M’ such a good slut, I’m going to fill you up so good”

He thrusted hard into you causing you to see stars . It was like nothing else was on your mind but getting him to cum deep inside you. Just then he pulled you by the waist and impaled on his fat cock making his balls slap against your ass x7.

He waited until your cunt started spasming and fluttering around him. Your moans echoed throughout the whole room blocking out every outside noise. “Gonna cum for me, huh? Gonna get you to cover my fat cock with your slutty cum? Gonna milk me dry? I bet you want my fat load inside, dirty fucking cum slut."He leaned down and whispered condescendingly into your ear.

You said nothing as your eyes progressively rolled back into your head as he continued to pound your weeping cunt, groaning into your ear and biting at your neck. “Cum for me angle, Go on cum on my cock like the dirty whore you are”

It only took a few more deep thrusts for you to unravel on him, your cunt squeezing him so hard it almost slowed down his pace. You came so much that some of it dripped out and fell onto the floor , but your cream left a pretty ring around the base of his cock

“Fuckkk.. gonna fill this pretty cunt of yours with my cum. Gonna put a fucking baby in here. You want that? Huh? Want me to fuck a baby into you?"

He purred into your ear, and you nodded brainlessly, feeling your eye roll to the back of your head once again.He groaned and gripped onto your hips with a force he hadn't used before. He slammed you on his cock a few more times before shooting a load of warm cum straight into your womb. You felt full like if you took one step you would completely undone.

He didn't pull out, instead, he stayed still and made sure that when he pulled out, very little of his cum would be wasted. You lay there, desperately trying to catch your breath as he gave little, gentle thrusts, pushing his cum further inside of you.

“I would call this experiment a success” he sang, placing one last kiss on your cheek.

After a wild night of festivities, you had finally woken up. However, you conclude that, Dottore was nowhere to be found. You make an effort to stand up but end up stumbling back down. Then, you see there's a letter that's lying on his desk, which reads.

Get back to Snezhnaya, rest up, and I'll send someone to get you as soon as possible.The other table has some clean clothes, if you can make it over there. Hahaha

[autisticlancemcclain]

The loud creaking noise coming from the walls is worrying, but the wince and muttered “oh, no” by the planet’s official is even worse.

“What’s wrong?” Keith asks warily.

“Oh, nothing to worry about, paladins!” the official says, plastering a smile on her face. “Please, carry on.”

Lance sighs heavily, trying at the last minute to keep the exasperation out of his tone. “Ma’am, there’s no need to shield us. We’re well equipped for an emergency, and happy to help.”

“Oh, you’re guests, I could never —”

Just then the walls creak again, much louder this time, before a gigantic crack appears, spreading across several meters. The official slumps forward. “We’ve been having some problems with our drainage systems,” she explains apologetically. “We were hopeful that there would be no flooding or catastrophes today, but that does not seem to be the case.”

The second the words are out of her mouth, the crack expands further, and water starts rushing out. The gathered people at the gala all make noises of minor alarm, but they’re all clearly used to the struggle, as no one seems too panicked. Lance takes the moment of confusion to step up onto a recently vacated chair.

“I’m so sorry,” says the official again, looking positively mortified. “This is going to have to cut the celebrations short.”

Keith quirks up one half of his mouth, trying his best to smile reassuringly. He looks awkward but determined. Lance looks away, hiding a fond smile.

“It’s fine,” Keith assures. “Do you need our help escorting everyone out?”

The official shakes her head. “No, everyone’s well-used to this at this point. They’ll file out on their own. I would just worry about getting yourselves out and back to your ship, paladins. It may take a while.”

Lance grimaces, glancing at the massive crowd all trying to file through the minimal exits. “Noted.”

The official hurries away, striding to help some of her elderly people make it through the doors first as the water level starts to rise. Nothing alarming, but enough to be frustrating and even a hazard for anyone who struggles to walk.

“Shame this had to end early,” Keith says, looking like it’s quite the opposite.

Lance snorts. “Real shame, I’m sure. Is that why you look like you could sing a tune?”

Keith’s small smile morphs into a full grin, and he shrugs. “No clue what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm. Sure. Let’s get out of here, you hater.”

Keith starts sloshing forward, wading through the now knee-high water. Lance steps from the chair he was standing on to the table and follows.

“You’re going to fall,” Keith says mildly.

Lance ignores him, concentrating on not tripping over plates and cutlery (proving Keith right would be just as bad as falling entirely into the water).

“Am not. Excuse me for not wanting to wade through dirty pipe water.”

“Priss,” Keith teases.

Lance scowls at him. “I’m wearing my nice shoes! And socks are already the worst things in the world, but wet socks? No. I’d rather surgically remove my feet.”

“Well, get your scalpel ready, ‘cause you’re running out of table.”

Lance stops, realising that he is, in fact, running out of table. He’s got maybe three or so meters left before his path gives way to what was once a massive dance floor and is now a pond, and is also the only way to reach the exit.

“Shit.” He shifts his feet, turning to look at Keith. “Maybe I should just wait here. You know, to make sure everyone else gets out safe. And for the water to get drained.”

Keith scoffs. “Fat chance of that. You’ll be here for days, and we have training tomorrow morning.”

Lance huffs, kicking an abandoned platter of appetizers to the side and sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the white tablecloth. “I don’t want to ruin my fancy clothes,” he says petulantly. “Or get wet socks. Why do horrible things happen to beautiful people? I don’t deserve this.”

Keith laughs. A small one, but one where his smile gets wide, showing his crooked incisors and the lines around his eyes. The look of it makes Lance grin back on reflex. Keith shakes his head, teasing, and then opens his arms. “C’mere, then.”

It takes Lance a moment to clock what Keith’s suggesting, but then he scoffs.

“Absolutely not, Mullet.”

The twinkle in Keith’s eyes is something like mischief. “I dunno what your issue is. If I carry you, you don’t ruin your shoes and your feet stay dry. What have you got to lose?”

“My dignity, I would say. You think I’m cool with you carrying me around like some —” Lance flushes at the mere thought — “some damsel, in front of the entire planet that thinks I’m a cool space hero? No way!”

“Well it’s either your dignity or dry feet, princess,” Keith teases. “You can’t have both.”

Lance narrows his eyes at the bastard. “Do you know how irritating it is when you’re both right and being generous, and thus have the moral high ground?”

Keith laughs again, brighter than before, making Lance’s stomach flutter. He opens his arms, wiggling his fingers enticingly. “You made your choice?”

Lance huffs again. “I guess if you’re offer’s still on the table,” he mutters, staring down at his shoes. “I really like these shoes.”

Without another word, Keith shuffles forward, sliding one arm behind Lance’s back and one under his knees. He lifts Lance easily, not even bracing himself or anything.

“Do I weigh anything to you?” Lance demands, fighting off the redness that threatens to overwhelm his face.

Keith smirks. “Nope. Felt like I was lifting a beanstalk.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Mhm. Keep talking shit and I’ll drop you.”

Lance snaps his mouth shut, because Keith absolutely will. As gentlemanly as he’s being right now, his favourite hobby is driving Lance batty, and Lance knows that for a fact. As soon as he decides that it will be funnier to dunk Lance than to carry him, he will.

“You know, this reminds me of something,” Keith muses as they’re halfway across the flooded dance floor.

Lance hums. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“I’m trying to put my finger on it. Early castle days, some sort of disaster, you cradled in my arms?”

“Oh — fuck off!” Lance exclaims, smacking Keith on the chest. “You drama queen!”

Keith sniggers. “I remember it now.” He smooths his face into an exaggerated smoulder. “‘We make a great team,’” he mocks, digging his fingers into Lance’s side.

“I did not say that,” Lance insists, even though he knows it’s futile. They have this exact argument at least once a week and it goes absolutely nowhere.

“You’re right, you didn’t just ‘say that’. You batted your eyelashes at me and made your eyes all big and brown and said it with the sappiest smile on your face —”

“You are delusional—”

“—and then fainted in my arms after holding my hand and gazing into my eyes. And then you got embarrassed and pretended it didn’t happen.”

“It didn’t! You wanted me to flirt with you so bad you dreamed it up!”

“Sure,” Keith says, shifting Lance in his arms. He pays Lance’s thigh condescendingly. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

“You are infuriating.”

“And you are the most frustrating person to ever come from planet Earth.”

They continue to bicker back and forth as Keith walks them through the pond, neither of them stopping to even take a breath. They’re the last ones to clear out, so they take their time. (Well, Keith takes his time, walking as slow as he can to increase Lance’s humiliation, and pretending to drop him every few minutes to hear Lance shriek and clutch his shoulders tightly. Because he is the worst.)

“Finally,” Lance grumbles, as they finally approach the doors. “Anyone tell you that you’re the worst taxi ever?”

“I’m going to dunk you,” Keith says pleasantly.

“Yeah, right. You’ve been saying that for twenty minutes.”

“Twenty-one might be the kicker.”

“Sure, and I bet —”

But Lance never gets to say what he bets, because as soon as they cross the threshold out of the ballroom, where everyone else has filed out, he’s interrupted by cheering. He looks up, confused, to find Hunk and Pidge pointing at him and teasingly whooping and hollering. The rest of the gathered crowd is quickly following suit.

Lance, it seems, is the only one being carried over the water like royalty. Even Allura is walking on her own just fine.

“Got a real gentleman, there, Lance,” Shiro calls, impish grin spreading across his face.

“Fuck off,” Lance snaps, face redder than Keith’s stupid jacket. He hides his face in Keith’s chest, which is shaking with the force of his chuckles.

“Shall I let you down?” he whispers.

“Don’t you dare,” Lance whispers back.

“You’re liking this, then.”

The truth is…yeah. As humiliating as it is being cradled in Keith’s arms (again), something primal and petty in Lance is positively preening at the attention, at the knowledge that he and he alone is special enough to be carried around by Keith Kogane. No one else got the special offer to be spared from the filth of the pipe water. No one else gets to feel Keith’s arms around them. No one else gets to feel the heat of his body so close, hear the beat of his heart. Just Lance.

“You’re annoying and I hate you,” Lance says instead of voicing any of that. “You have a thing for embarrassing me, I swear.”

Keith shrugs. The movement makes Lance’s belly swoop. “A little, actually. It’s hilarious when you get all riled up.”

“Yeah, well, you look better when you’re all mad at me! Take that!” As soon as he says it Lance wishes he could reach back in time and smack the shit out of himself. “Fuck — I didn’t mean — that’s not —”

But the damage is already done — Keith’s already grinning widely, smug and horrible and so, so sexy. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time you piss me off on purpose, Bluebell. Maybe I’ll just shut you up with a kiss.”

Lance is too choked up to say a single thing for the rest of the walk to the castle. When he finally gets to his room — free of Keith’s stupid horrible strong arms, might he add — he shoves his face into his pillow and screams himself hoarse.

Keith is the worst, and Lance wants him more than anyone he’s ever known.

———

based on this video

[wavelikewhat]

More Than A Latte

Pairing: Barista!Seungcheol x Reader (any pronouns) Summary: You have a huge crush on the handsome and flirty barista who makes you a perfect latte nearly every day. Unfortunately, it’ll probably never be anything more, right? That’s what you believe… until you see him on a night out with your friends. Wordcount: 1.7k Content notes: Reader goes to a bar and orders drinks, but no direct mention of alcohol, drinking alcohol, or drunkenness. No smut. Total fluff. Genres/themes/appearances: Fluffy and frothy like his lattes would be. Entirely inspired by this clip. Barista!Cheol in that shirt with that hair and those forearms really put a lot of thoughts into my head.

A/N: this is a mini "collab" with @seungkwansphd: please read their version of this concept called bean me up, scotty!! we both had different inspiration based on my totally normal and definitely not over the top reaction to that Barista!Cheol clip ☕️

SC - What will it be today? YN - Medium latte. SC - Perfect… and can I have a name? YN - Y/N. SC - Thanks Y/N. Your drink will be on the other end of the counter over there. 

SC - Hey! I remember you from the other day! What will you have today? YN - Hey, good morning. I'll have a medium latte. SC - Excellent choice… Remind me of your name? YN - Y/N. SC - All right Y/N, it’ll be at the end of the counter. 

SC - Hey Y/N, good morning! Medium latte? YN - You are a quick learner. SC - It helps that you order the same thing every time. Have a good one! 

YN - Hey, good morning. SC - Hey Y/N! Regular? YN - Make it with an extra shot of espresso, please. SC - I can't tell if that's a commentary on last night or this morning. YN - Let's just say both and leave it at that. 

YN - Hey, good morning. I'll have a medium latte. SC - Perfect order for a perfect day. YN - It really is beautiful out… I was thinking of taking the bus but maybe I'll walk. SC - You can't take hot coffee on the bus. Unless you're sneaky? YN - I am not very sneaky… I just drink my coffee a little faster than is probably responsible. Is that against the rules too? SC - I will be here to make your medium latte whenever you need it. Just don't take it on the bus.  YN - I promise.

SC - Hey Y/N, how was your walk yesterday? YN - It was really nice. Did you get a chance to get outside? SC - I did, you inspired me. I took the long way home. YN - Home isn't nearby? SC - I live on the other side of the river. YN - Oh, me too! SC - Really?

SC - Hey Y/N, medium latte?  YN - You are my hero. 

……………………

“Hey, good morning Y/N! I saw you across the street through the window.” Seungcheol picks up the white cup on the counter in front of him and hands it to you. “Here you go,” he says with a casual smile. Your knees threaten to give up on their one job of holding you upright.

You take the latte from him, fingertips gently brushing against his. You couldn’t have imagined the spark you felt when you touched his skin. Your fingers are probably going to tingle for the rest of the day from the memory of his touch. 

You gather your wits and look up at him. “Wow, thank you! Does everyone get this level of service?” You’re flirty, you always are. You can’t turn it off when it comes to him.

“Only you.” The corner of his mouth tilts up. He’s flirting, too.

“Do you say that to everyone?”

“Only you.” He grins wider and runs a hand through his blond hair, all while meeting your gaze.

You glance down at his name tag to break eye contact. “Seungcheol (he/him)” it says, as if you haven’t read it a thousand times before. 

His crisp white shirt is buttoned nearly all the way up to his neck, just one left undone, giving you the tiniest peek at his collarbone. His sleeves are rolled up the same way as always, showing the same few inches of forearm you stare at almost every morning.

He chuckles and draws your attention back to his face.

You still haven’t ever said his name, but he always greets you with yours. It gives you a buzz every time you hear it.

The way he says your name affects you. The way he smiles after he says your name affects you. The way his eyes light up when he sees you walk through the door… That definitely affects you.

……………………

“How did you even find out about this place?” you ask as you step out of the taxi. 

“Someone I work with was talking about it,” your friend Nina replies, adjusting her top. “I figured we might as well go somewhere new.”

“What, you don't like change?” your friend Eunchae teases as they hold the door open in front of you. 

“Haha,” you reply sarcastically, knowing full well that you're the most routine-oriented person any of your friends had ever met, even counting Nina’s dad who delivers mail—which means he goes to the same houses on the same street in the same order every single day. You can’t help it if you like routine! Spontaneity isn’t really your strong suit.

“Well, it looks pretty cool,” you say, scanning the crowd. Everyone seems to be having a good time, which is always a promising sign. It isn’t too loud, but there’s a level of excitement in the air that makes you bob your head slightly to the song spun by the DJ in a far corner of the room. Your friends lead you to the bar and you run your eyes down the length of it, seeking out the bartender with the shortest queue. 

And that's when you see him. 

Seungcheol. He's in a tight black tee (where did those muscles come from?) flashing the smile that had become a crucial part of your morning routine. As he turns his head, his blond hair sparkles in the dim bar lighting. 

Your eyes narrow at the women giggling as he hands them two colorful drinks. Who could they be? Does he know them? Why is he smiling at them?

“What do you want?” Nina asks in front of you, breaking your concentration. Thankfully, she’s caught the attention of a bartender working exactly where the three of you are standing. You make a very large mental note to avoid Seungcheol's section of the bar for the rest of the night. 

As much as you want to see Seungcheol again, because once nearly every day is definitely not enough, you have absolutely no idea what you would say if he recognized you… if he even could recognize you outside the context of the cafe. You’re dressed totally differently from how you dress for work, and your hair is different, and your makeup is different, and hopefully your entire demeanor is different because it isn’t the crack of dawn and you aren’t getting the caffeine you desperately need in order to become a human being. You have many hours of being human behind you today. 

That’s when you remember that you didn't actually see Seungcheol today. You were running late to work and you didn't have a chance to stop for coffee, so you ended up making instant coffee in the break room after you arrived. It wasn’t the same. Seungcheol’s coffee just works better.

Needless to say, you plan to do everything in your power to avoid him tonight, even though every single molecule in your body wants to be as close to him as possible… tonight, tomorrow night, and every night until the end of time. 

Your friend hands you a glass and motions you away from the bar. You’re more than happy to escape the possibility that Seungcheol might notice you (even if that's secretly what you want). You attempt to stop thinking about him for the next half hour while your friends gossip and sip their drinks. You mostly succeed, because your eyes only land on him every few minutes instead of every fifteen seconds. 

“Come help me carry the next round,” Eunchae instructs as they stand up. You casually glance at Seungcheol’s section of the bar as you follow Eunchae. There’s a huge smile on Seungcheol’s face as he pours drinks for two guys who look to be as tall as he is. He looks so painfully good in that shirt. 

When the guys turn around to walk away, they are very obvious about glancing back at him with their wide eyes and secretive grins, clearly discussing the handsome bartender who just made their drinks. As they should, you think. He deserves it. 

You shake your head, trying to get him out of your mind. “Can you see which bartender we should go to?” Eunchae asks, looking at both ends of the bar in confusion. You point to the bartender at the exact opposite end of the bar from Seungcheol. 

“He only has one person in front of him,” you explain, walking as far away from Seungcheol as possible. 

Despite your reluctance to look at a certain bartender in the building, you and your friends have an amazing time. The drinks taste great and the vibes are just right. The three of you were enjoying letting loose after a long week, and you can tell the people around you are enjoying themselves, too. 

After the three of you head out to the dance floor, Nina and Eunchae keep saying they’re looking forward to coming back and bringing your other friends along. You’re excited and horrified by this possibility. It’s always great to find a new place you and your friends all like. The problem is you don’t know if you can even get through this night without making eye contact with Seungcheol and melting on the spot. There is no way you'd be able to hide from him on another night out, or other nights if your group keeps dropping by. 

Sooner or later you’ll end up having an awkward encounter with him and you do not trust yourself to be cool in that situation. Not even a little bit. 

“Let's have one last round?” Nina suggests, and you nod. Eunchae moves toward Nina, saying they’ll help carry water to the table with the drinks if you can snag a table. You look around, enjoying the music and carefully avoiding a certain someone in a black shirt. 

When your friends come back and set all the drinks and water on the table you're at, you let yourself enjoy their company fully, appreciative of the fun night with some of your favorite people. You’re finally able to completely forget the man at the end of the bar. 

Suddenly, Nina and Eunchae both turn their heads toward you. No, not toward you: they’re looking at someone behind you. You turn back to find out what caught their interest.

“Hey Y/N,” Seungcheol says with an easy grin, the same way he always does. You can’t help but smile in return. You kick yourself for developing this specific muscle memory.

He’s looking you in the eye for the first time all night. Despite your best efforts (and you tried really hard!) it turns out he did notice you. And he didn’t just notice you, he recognized you and sought you out and said your name out loud in his way that always sends a chill down your spine.

He introduces himself briefly to Nina and Eunchae, exchanging only names and nods. Then he focuses his attention on you again.

“I’m done with my shift. Ready to go?” he asks expectantly.

Without receiving any instructions from your brain, your mouth responds. “Yes.” 

“Are you sure?” Nina asks, looking right at you. 

“I thought we could share a cab?” Seungcheol adds, still smiling, still looking at you.

“We live in the same neighborhood,” you explain, as if that’s all the explanation necessary for leaving with a hot bartender your friends have never spoken to who also somehow knows your name and where you live. You find yourself backing away from the table. Tonight your mouth and legs have made a lot of decisions without your brain’s direction.

“I’ll text you when I get home!” you promise, waving at your friends before spinning around. 

When you turn to face Seungcheol, he takes your hand and bites his bottom lip for a moment before grinning at you. “Hi Y/N,” he says.

“Hi Seungcheol,” you respond, grinning back at him.