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sxcret-garden · 2 months

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Haechan ღ Painted with You [M]

ღ NCT Dream Haechan x fem!reader ღ feat.: short mentions of Renjun & Jeno ღ words: ~15k ღ genre: college AU, fwb to lovers, exes to lovers, fluff, slice of life, slow burn, pining, reader is a little dense, angst, humor, smut (switch!Haechan (but sub-leaning), oral (both receiving), hair pulling (idol receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, some begging, fingering, handjob, edging, orgasm denial (idol receiving), dry humping) ღ warnings: alcohol consumption, depiction of anxiety and reader feeling burnt out, mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms

Desc.: You and Donghyuck were a couple back in high school, each having your own reasons for dating the other, but ultimately what you seeked out in each other was a distraction. Now that you meet again five years later, you both come to realize that the connection between you is still there, and eventually it’s crystal clear that the people you’ve become won’t be as easily separated as back then.

Author's note: aaaa I've had this in my drafts for sooo long avoiding to proofread it cause I wasn't happy with this at all... so now I finally came back to it to edit a bit and I think in the end it turned out quite okay^^ I hope you guys like it 🫶

There’s a hint of victory in the smile he gives you when you sit down next to him. Like he knew it would come to this - that you’d get bored of exchanging mundanities with the others and eventually find yourself drawn to him as your only escape. And it’s not like you didn’t know it too, it was clear from the moment you greeted each other with a hug that lasted shorter than it should have, and at the same time felt more familiar than you wanted it to. Yet his stance is inviting as he turns his whole body towards you in his seat, and the curiousity in his eyes is apparent.

“Long time no see,” he says, and it comes out softer than you would’ve expected it to. And he probably had the same thought, because he’s clearing his throat now, talking more firmly as he continues, “What have you been up to?” The last time you’ve seen each other was at your high school graduation ceremony, and since then it’s been almost five years. Which, as your former class president Renjun had decided, was about enough time to gather for a reunion.

“Well, you know. This and that,” you try to avoid an answer, but of course he wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily. He knows you too well for that.

“Come on,” he snorts. “You can tell me. My time wasn’t spent in a purely productive manner either.”

“You probably spent about 3 years total on just playing video games…” you say with a grin playing on your lips, and you make him huff in disbelief, before his expression as well returns to a somewhat mischievous smile.

“Now that was just tactless,” he says, straightening his back now. “I quit uni to go to work, and then started again with a different major. So now I’m a freshman!” He gives you a peace sign with his hand, sounding a lot prouder about the fact than he should’ve been.

“Feeling like 19 again?” you joke.

“Yes! Everyone automatically assumes I’m their age,” he explains. “But then I tell them I’m older, so I can make them work for me!” An exaggeratedly mischievous laugh follows, and you can only shake your head at his shenanigans.

“You haven’t changed at all,” you say, turning away and facing the bartender working just a few seats away. Originally you were all going out for dinner and nothing more, but when some girls suggested paying a nearby bar a visit, nobody could refuse in the face of getting some booze into their veins. Maybe you aren’t the only one who’s getting fucked over by life.

“One margarita,” you raise your hand and order, then you add, directed at Donghyuck, “Anything for you?”

“Just soju.” And so after placing both your orders, he adds, “Still can’t drink the adult drinks?”

“Excuse you, it has alcohol in it, so it is an adult drink. But if you’re asking if I still hate bitter stuff - yes I do.”

“I see… anyway, I’m not letting you get away without properly answering my question.”

“Too bad,” you respond. “Well…” And then you hesitate. You remember what it was like between the two of you in high school. When you were dating, each for your own reasons and certainly not because you had feelings for each other. But he still felt like a friend you could entrust your deepest feelings with - you knew each other like the back of your own hand. And yet, you find yourself hesitating in the face of five years passed by without a word from the other. It wasn’t like you had a fight or broke up on bad terms. It’s just that you both agreed it would be better not to see each other again, for reasons that seemed smart at the time. But now that you’re looking at the person he’s become and how much he seems to have grown up, you’re not sure anymore what those reasons even were.

“That bad?” Donghyuck interrupts your train of thought as he raises an eyebrow at you, and when you shake your head a short laugh escapes him.

“No, just… I’m also still in university,” you say. “I had to take a year off, so I’m trying to finish everything now. It’s not going great though.”

“Oh…” he looks away, directing his gaze at his hands that he’s hiding in the sleeves of his knitted sweater. “Are you managing though?” And that’s when you suddenly feel the past and the present connect - the way he immediately becomes serious when the situation calls for it, just like he has always done, makes you feel safe to keep speaking, and to keep your heart open, just for a bit.

“It’s… difficult,” you admit. The bartender sets down your ordered drinks, causing another pause, and you acknowledge it with a nod. “I’m trying not to do too much, but you know what’s it like living here.”

“Yeah,” he says. “That fucked you over before, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” You fall silent after that, but not for long. Your conversation partner is Donghyuck after all, he wouldn’t let an awkward silence get too long.

“I have changed… by the way.” You raise your eyebrows at him as he speaks those words, letting the sip of your cocktail slowly trickle down your throat.

“Have you?” you ask. “Well, I mean… you’ve grown up.”

“Oh?” Suddenly seeing him straightening his back as he’s overjoyed, you can’t but giggle at the way his face is graced with a beaming smile now, but he glosses it over with a cough and a sip of his soju.

“But you sure are still the same guy,” you add, a nostalgic smile on your lips.

“I guess,” he agrees, his features softening. Another pause falls upon you as you give your cocktail another taste, and this time it’s you who breaks the silence. Continuously chatting, you’re starting to feel a little tipsy from the sweet beverage after a while.

“I heard you got a girlfriend?” Donghyuck huffs, a wide smile meant to hide a bitter feeling appearing on his face.

“Yeah…”

“What about her?” you pry, sensing something off.

“Dumped me,” he simply says, then pointing across the room and at Jeno, one of your former classmates. “For that guy.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s whatever,” he shrugs it off, pouring himself another glass and offering the shot to you instead. “You sure you don’t want any?”

“I’d rather have my own drink, thanks.”

“Alright. Then cheers.” He downs the shot, grimacing at the taste, and when he sets the glass back down, he adds, “I don’t get why she went for him anyway. I bet it’s cause of all that muscle he got.” You can’t help but chuckle at his words, and you hit his upper arm playfully.

“You should hit the gym too and then see if you can get her back.”

“Very funny,” he replies dryly. “I’d rather die.”

“Understandable…” you reply, taking another sip of your drink as well. “So… you’re probably glad I finally came to you.” Donghyuck shoots you a questioning look and you explain yourself. “For a distraction. Like in the old days, you know?”

“Ahh…” He merely lets out a sound, before staring at his empty shot glass.

“You’re not doing that anymore?” you assume.

“I guess.”

“Yeah… me too,” you say. “Or like… I stopped using people for it.”

You were dating back then, that’s true, but you wouldn’t go as far as to call yourselves high school sweethearts. You were both going through some stuff - for him it was a breakup with his first love, for you it was just life itself. When you were both at your lowest you started talking properly, and it soon became clear that you both wanted nothing more than to escape. And so you formed an alliance - as you used to call it, to everyone else you simply said that you were a couple now. You did behave like a couple, but just for the rush. The first time you held his hand you felt nothing, but when you made out secretly in the backyard of your school instead of attending class, that’s when you were overwhelmed with excitement. It was a stupid idea, you know that now too, and it only worked for so long. You spent the summer of your junior year together, meeting up almost every day and talking, and eventually distracting yourselves by making out secretly in your or his room. And then your final year came, and as you started seeing yourselves forced to take life a bit more seriously, you gradually met up less, until you both agreed that breaking up would be the best decision, so that you could focus on your studies and try to get into a good university. At least for your part, you still have mixed feelings when you remember that day. Because you know you made the adult decision, but at the same time you always end up thinking back to what fooling around with him felt like when you have a bad day now, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss it at least a bit. But you found other distractions - obsessing over tv series, finding just the perfect kind of music to drown out your feelings, and sometimes, whenever you could find a good excuse to drink with friends, alcohol. Though you’re being careful with the latter, just as you are now. One drink is usually enough to help you relax a bit and not pay all the things stressing you out so much thought.

“So when are we gonna start writing your redemption arc?” you ask nonchalantly, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Your ex.”

“Stop that, for real,” he says, and the way he remains serious tells you your joke wasn’t well received.

“Sorry,” you utter.

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” He’s playing with the glass in his hands, thumb rubbing along its edge as he keeps staring at it, and you take the last few sips of your drink, before you too start spinning the cocktail glass around between your fingers.

“Actually…” Donghyuck speaks up, now throwing you an entirely different look. “How about we get out of here. Maybe we could both use a distraction after all.”

“But-”

“Just for today.” You stare at him blankly, blinking once, twice, then a third time. This sounds like a bad idea, but at the same time you know you’re probably not gonna see each other for the next five years, just like it was for the past five. So what would be so bad about taking his offer now?

“Alright,” you say eventually, having made up your mind. “My place? It’s nearby.” His lips are parted slightly as he watches you jump out of your seat and put on your jacket. As the air around you changes, so does the look in his eyes, and a moment later he gets up too, his arm wrapped loosely around your waist while he holds the door open for you as he walks you out of the place.

“You really have changed,” you comment as you’re sneaking out, so none of the others would notice, and you giggle at your unnecessary secrecy once you’re past the entrance to the building.

“I can be a gentleman too!” he insists. “Of course a high school boy wouldn’t think of that.” You catch the pout that forms on his lips as he adds the last part, and you inevitably laugh, pointing at his face.

“But you’re also really still the same.”

You decide on going to your place, as it’s nearby, and you take a taxi there. Though you know this is only going to be a one time thing, neither of you seems to be in a rush. You take the elevator to the sixth floor, grinning at each other in silence the entire ride - maybe because this reminds the both of you a bit too much of the way you used to sneak off together all the time back in school. But once you arrive at your apartment, the atmosphere between you somehow changes, and as you’re walking over to your little kitchen to offer him a drink, he stops you, wrapping his arm around your waist. His touch is firm now, and he comes to a halt when he’s standing right in front of you, closer than a friend would, but leaving more distance between you than a lover would, and keeping his voice lowered, he asks,

“So… are we going to go right to the distraction part? Or do we need to pretend that we still need to warm up to each other first?” You find him staring at your lips, then returning his gaze to your eyes as he waits patiently for your response. And you don’t manage to come up with anything smart to say to him, so you simply take a step forward, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, and you kiss him. His lips feel soft, just like you remember them, melting against yours perfectly. Yet there’s a firmness to his kiss that feels new to you. He used to always kiss you with eagerness, too much of it at times, impatient to feel more of you and for you to take control. It was no secret between you two that he actually quite enjoyed being put into his place by you, and now that there’s no such intentions apparent behind the way he moves his lips against yours, you find yourself having your breath taken away by the time you part.

“You really did grow up well…” you mutter, barely an inch apart. “Did your ex teach you to kiss like that?”

“Watch your mouth, Y/N,” he mutters darkly, another side of him that’s not exactly new to you, but one that you haven’t seen a lot in the past. And then he simply brushes his lips against yours again, softly and with care, quite in contrast to his sharp words. “I don’t wanna ruin this with thoughts about people I don’t know anymore.”

“Right…” you whisper, and before you can add a mumbled apology, he presses his lips to yours again. In between short kisses that inevitably leave you longing for more, he steers you closer to the wall behind you, until he has you trapped against it. Your shoulders meet the cold surface gently, and as you’re slowly getting to know this different side of him, you feel yourself being swept off your feet like he never knew how to.

One of his hands resting on your waist, his fingertips creep towards your hip as you’re sharing an open mouthed kiss. A moan escapes you when he presses you up against the wall closer, and as he slowly parts from you, you can see the playful grin showing on his face now.

“You changed too,” he comments, and again he closes the distance between you without giving you a chance to question his words. Your hands finding their way up into his short hair, your fingers get tangled with the strands and you carefully tug at them as he deepens this kiss as well. He’s kissing you slowly as you let him have the lead naturally, and as you keep making out like this, you eventually find yourself burning up whole under his touch. He moves from your mouth to your neck eventually, and you lean your head back with a deep sigh as he begins scattering hot kisses all over the area. His hand that’s been propped up against the wall now finds the back of your nape to support you, and when he comes back up, he whispers a question,

“Do we keep going like we used to? Or do you wanna go all the way this time?” Drunk on his kisses, you pull him in for another one on the mouth, and as you part you mutter,

“We’re not kids anymore. Let’s go all the way.” You step aside and he lets you, and you reach for his hands to walk him over to your couch. Giving him a push, he lets himself fall back onto the sofa, leaning against the backrest as his curious gaze never leaves you. “Don’t need this anymore…” you mumble as you pull off your shirt and throw it somewhere onto the ground, and then you crawl into his lap to straddle him. His hands find purchase on your hips immediately as he looks up at you with warm eyes. You cup his face in your hands and you lean in, capturing his lips in a teasing kiss. Sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, you lure a breathy moan out of him, and wanting to hear more, you keep kissing him like that. Feathery touches that would for sure make him want more eventually become overshadowed by you rolling his hips on top of him, and with each time he lets you hear his voice you become more eager. It’s almost as if you’ve become the one who can’t wait, and he’s the one acting with patience.

“Never knew you could turn me on this much,” he mutters as you pull back, moving your hips at a leisurely pace. You can undoubtedly feel the bulge in his pants, and it’s certainly not leaving you unaffected.

“I grew up too, Hyuck,” you say, and then you bury your face in his neck. You kiss a trail up to the spot right below his ear as he leans back, and his hands wander up your sides and to your back when you start nibbling on his skin.

“Mhm… you did, hm?” he answers. He finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it, and as the piece of clothing slides down your arms, you sit back so he can take it off you and fling it to the ground as well, somewhere in the general direction of where your shirt should be. He holds onto your sides as he takes in the sight in front of him, and as he draws closer to connect his lips to the skin on your chest, you can hear him saying,

“I know I never told you this as a boy but you look beautiful. I really regret not saying that to you.” He kisses his way up from the valley of your breasts to your throat and then back to your mouth, and just before he can connect his lips to yours, you whisper,

“It’s fine. I might’ve actually fallen for you if you had done that.” You laugh, and he does too, but his grin has a different meaning to it than yours.

“Don’t say that. We don’t want anything unfortunate to happen.” Connecting his lips to yours, he runs his tongue across them to ask for permission to enter, and without protest you let him deepen the kiss.

“Now you’re the one who said it,” you mumble a response in between kisses. “That’s a stupid thought anyway.”

“Right.” His fingertips dance south along your spine, and he eventually tugs at your pants as a sign that he wants those off as well. And so you peel yourself out of his hold, and while you’re discarding your jeans, he slips out of his shirt, and both clothing items land somewhere on the floor, soon to be forgotten. He makes you lie down flat on the couch as he crawls on top of you, and when he leaves a trail of small kisses up your torso, one of his hands finds its way to your hips, thumb hooking under the fabric of your panties.

“These too,” he says. “I want these off too.” You give him the okay to take them off as you comb your fingers through his hair once, and as soon as he’s gotten rid of the last piece of clothing on your body, he lowers himself to let his lips draw a map of your figure. Feeling his warm hands against your sides, you let out a sigh as you lean your head back and you close your eyes for a bit, just enjoying the way his kisses feel against your skin. Your hands fly to his hair again, and you find yourself massaging his scalp as he’s slowly going down on you. You let him lift your legs up onto his shoulders eventually, and when he buries his face between your legs, you can’t but let out a small moan. Tongue lapping at your folds, he hums at your taste, and then he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it gently.

“That feel good?” he asks, slurring his words a bit, and you nod, tugging at the strands of hair between your fingers.

“Yeah. Keep going…” And so he does, alternating between teasing you with his lips and the tip of his tongue, and when he retrieves one hand to slide his fingers inside you, he comments,

“So wet for me, hm?”

“Y-yeah…” You can unmistakably feel the knot in your stomach being tied tighter with every single touch of his, and when he pumps his fingers in and out of you at a frustratingly slow pace, you find yourself begging for more. “Faster… p-please…” Donghyuck simply hums at your plea, before he obliges, curling his fingers inside you just a little faster. Gradually picking up on speed, the way he flicks his tongue against your clit along with the waves of pleasure that run through your body with each time he hits that sweet spot inside you make you slowly lose your mind, and you let him know just how good he’s making you feel by moaning in tune with his movements.

“Don’t stop… please don’t stop…” you mewl as you look down on yourself to find him already gazing back up at you, observing all of your reactions closely through half-lidded eyes. Just a few more repetitions and he’s throwing you over the edge, making you clench around his fingers as you throw your head back with a moan. “Fuck…” you mutter after he pulls out of you carefully, and he crawls back up to kiss you on the lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue as you share a lazy kiss, and once you part, you place your palms on his chest to push him off you.

“Your turn,” you simply state as you sit up and you make some space so you can comfortably kneel in front of the sofa. Getting the message, he hurriedly rids himself of his pants and boxers, and when he sits down in front of you, you don’t waste another second to wrap your fingers around his length. Giving him a few strokes, he’s fully hard in no time, and he watches as he leans back, enjoying the attention.

“You really have no patience anymore, huh,” he mutters, and you lick your lips before returning his gaze.

“Want me to torture you a bit? Make you beg for it? I can do that too.”

“I can beg if you want me to,” he retorts, the confident expression not being wiped off his face so easily, and you decide to keep that piece of information in mind. Just in case. But for now you’re not planning on making him wait - he’s right, you’ve become impatient, and you’re dying to know what kind of sounds you might lure out of him with his dick in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his tip a few times, watching him part his lips slightly as he lets you hear a deep sigh and a praise directed at you. “That’s right…” he mutters, and when you take his tip into your mouth fully, he lets you hear a moan so sweet, you swear you could cum just from the sound of it. Slowly bobbing your head up and down and having your hand that’s wrapped around his base follow those same movements, you enjoy the way he keeps moaning at your ministrations, until eventually you hum in approval and he whines from the pleasure.

“Fuck…” A curse escapes him when his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag a little, and you find yourself amused at how easy it is to make a guy whine as soon as you have him in a position like this. You go painfully slow, but he takes all of your teasing, and just when you start feeling bad for him because of how desperate his moans are, you speed up, making sure to take him in as far as you can.

“Shit, Y/N…” he calls out to you. “Wait-”

“Hm?” You come up at his words, letting him slip out of your mouth.

“Wanna cum in your pussy…” The request makes you grin.

“So demanding…” you mutter, shooting him a challenging look.

“Please…” he tries to convince you, his pupils shaking as he’s awaiting your answer. But you’ve already made up your mind on how you’re going to proceed, and so you merely throw him a grin, before taking him back into your mouth. He throws his head back at you sucking him off at a faster pace now, probably in a mixture of frustration and pleasure, and as more curses fall from his lips along with your name, you know he’s close. You hum at his desperation and at the way he’s twitching in your hand while he’s bucking his hips up into your touch, and the next time you’re sinking all the way down on him, he cums with a moan. You try to swallow everything as he releases into your mouth, and when you let go of him you lick your lips to get the rest of it too, all while he watches with a hazy mind. And then you crawl into his lap, leaving a trail of kisses down the side of his throat, and eventually you say,

“Why not both?” You grab his face in one hand, gaze falling to his lips, and before he can say anything you kiss him to cut off his train of thought. “We have so much time tonight…” you mutter against his lips in between kisses, and he merely lets out small moans at your words. “We can do all the things we want. But let’s move somewhere more comfortable first.” And so you hurriedly walk over to your bedroom, Donghyuck pushing you against the mattress as soon as you’re there, and he doesn’t waste a single second to kiss you again. His lips nipping at your collarbones, you throw your arms around him, until finally you switch positions again, and you end up sitting on top of him, sinking down on his hard cock and biting your lower lip from how good it feels to be filled up like this.

“Fuck…” Now it’s you who’s cursing, fingers intertwined with his as you’re pinning his hands down to keep yourself stable. You know he’s drinking up the sight in front of him as you start slowly riding him, and the way he looks at you only turns you on more.

“Shit, you look so pretty like this…” he mumbles, completely taken aback, and he sits up, freeing his hands to hold onto your sides instead. “Can I kiss you?”

“You’re asking that now?” you chuckle as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and he lets out a short laugh as he too realizes how ridiculous his question was.

“You’re right,” he mutters, leaning in. “Then I’ll just kiss you whenever I want.” A rush of heat courses through your body as he presses his lips against yours, and you roll your hips on top of him just a little faster.

“Please do,” you whisper, barely audible, before Donghyuck closes the distance between you again. You take your time making out, until both of you feel that you’re coming close again, and with one hand between your bodies, he starts rubbing your clit for you as you keep your pace.

“I’ll help you,” he whispers, unable to take his eyes off your face as you’re both completely drunk on the other’s touches.

“Mhm…” you moan, chasing your own high on top of him. You’re the first one who comes undone, digging your nails into his shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck as your high shakes you.

“Don’t stop, Y/N…” His words sound desperate, and you do your best to keep moving despite feeling the overstimulation building up. He has both his hands on your back now, and you let out a moan when you feel him dragging his nails down to your hips. “Shit…!” Spitting out a curse, he releases inside you, and finally you come to a halt. You stay in your positions for a while, waiting until your heartbeats have returned to a normal pace in each other’s arms, before you both lie down side by side, out of breath and grinning at the other.

“Didn’t think you’d get that good without me…” he mutters a comment.

“Hey!” you shout playfully. “What was I supposed to do if you just disappear on me like that?”

“You didn’t contact me either,” he tries to defend himself, but you both know it was him who stopped replying to your messages, even though your conversations were already scarce after graduating. For now you decide to say nothing - your mind filled with bliss from what your night out ended up turning into, you wouldn’t want to ruin the mood. Instead, he’s the one to break the silence.

“Wanna keep going?” he asks, scooting over closer to you and making you lie flat on your back, kissing a trail down your jawline and placing a hand on top of your stomach. “I wanna keep going,” he adds, more silently, as his fingers are already wandering south.

“Alright,” you mutter, your hand up in his hair again as he drags his fingers down your folds, dipping inside once and then coming back up to your clit to draw circles onto it. “If I walk weird tomorrow it’s your fault,” you add, laughing.

“You just made me wanna see that,” he jokes back, before pressing a kiss to the side of your throat and letting his fingers take care of you.

You keep in touch after that, texting each other throughout the day - even on those days where you barely find the time or energy to be social, you’ll at least send some memes back and forth - and meeting up whenever you both have some free time. It really feels like you’re continuing right where you had left off five years ago whenever you find yourselves unable to stop laughing because of your own bickering, or when you’re sitting side by side, having a more serious conversation and simply offering an open ear to the other. And at the same time something about the way you treat each other has undoubtedly changed. Of course you both grew up and you’re more mature than you were as high school students, but it seems there’s something else lingering in the air during every interaction you have, you just can’t really put your finger on what that is.

You also keep meeting up to have sex.

“So? What does that make us?” you ask a question into the dimly lit room, staring up at the ceiling. You’re both lying side by side on his bed, the sheets beneath you messed up as evidence of what you’ve been doing, and the chilly air in the room hitting your skin lets you cool down a bit.

“What? This?” Donghyuck asks, turning his head so he could look at you.

“Yeah,” you respond. “We’re not just friends if we’re constantly hooking up, are we?” Your words are accompanied by a chuckle, meant to tell him that you’re not being as serious as you sound. Or maybe you are, but mostly because your other friends keep asking where you’re sneaking off so frequently these days, and why you don’t seem to have the time to meet up with them anymore. And everytime you tell them you’re seeing a different friend, a part of you feels like you’re lying. Maybe that’s because they’ve stopped believing you too, and they keep urging you on to finally admit that you’re dating someone. But you’re not dating Donghyuck, right?

“Fuckbuddies?” He rolls onto his side, head supported by his hand, and he gives you a mischievous look.

“I guess,” you say, and after some consideration you add, “My friends keep asking who I’m meeting all the time. They think I have a boyfriend.”

“Well, what does it feel like when you kiss me?” You’re too stunned to speak for a moment, not expecting him to pose such a serious question.

“I mean… you’re a good kisser?” You grin at him, rolling onto your side as well so you could face him, and as you’re drawing near, he’s already reaching out to capture your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“That’s all?”

“I think so.” He lets his lips brush against yours, puffy and reddened from making out earlier, and you feel warmth wrap around you. You also feel safe with him, but that’s not exclusively related to him kissing you, so you don’t feel the need to mention it.

“Then I can’t be your boyfriend,” he mutters when you part.

“So friends… with benefits then?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, great,” you say, letting yourself fall onto your back, sinking into the mattress. “I can’t go around telling my friends that I’m seeing a fuckbuddy.” Your friend giggles beside you.

“I mean you don’t have to,” he says. “If it’s easier to explain, you can just pretend you’re seeing a boyfriend. I don’t mind.”

“I wonder…” you mumble, more to yourself than to him. “Then they’ll want to meet you, so… anyway.” You sit up, letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed. “I’m kinda hungry. You wanna order something?”

“I’ll make us some ramen. But we should shower first.” He sits up as well, and when you throw him a look over your shoulder, he cocks his head to the side, giving you another grin. “Together?” You laugh at his suggestion.

“You just want another round in there, don’t you? We’re never gonna get food in that case. I’m going alone.”

“Awww…” he whines in defeat and it makes you smile. You crawl closer to him, placing a peck onto his pouting lips.

“We kiss an awful lot for fuckbuddies, though,” you remark, and then you get up.

“I don’t think we’re kissing nearly enough…” he mumbles an answer. Amused by his words, you shoot him another glance, and then you trot off to the bathroom.

“You free Friday night?” You glance at your phone screen when it lights up to quickly read Donghyuck’s message that you just received, and as you let out a sigh, you return your focus to the notebook in front of you. Skimming through your handwritten notes from the lecture you visited every wednesday afternoon a year ago still gives you anxiety - you’re not sure what more you’re supposed to study than this and the materials displayed on your laptop screen, and yet you don’t feel nearly prepared enough. You’re in your last semester - or at least you’re planning for this to be the last one - and you finally forced yourself to register for the exam you keep postponing because you horribly failed it the first time. The worst part is that it’s an oral exam, so no turning back once you’ve answered (or not answered) a question, even if a better response comes to you later on during the exam. And you hate that, because you know your brain tends to black out in stressful situations, and panicking while you’re supposed to recite your knowledge on a complicated topic doesn’t exactly help with that. You tear your eyes away from the materials eventually, taking another sip of your coffee and then picking up your phone off the small round dinner table in your flat.

“Sorry, I don’t have time then ㅠㅠ” You press send, and it doesn’t take long for your friend to reply.

“On the weekend? I’m busy Saturday but Sunday is fine!!”

“I don’t think I can make time until Tuesday. Sorry. Difficult exam coming up…”

“Then you should take a break!! I’m sure you’ve been studying all day” He’s not wrong with his assumption, but still you can’t bring yourself to set aside a few hours to fool around with him. You wouldn’t be able to relax and truly get the exam off your mind anyway, so you refuse again, even if it hurts you.

It’s been like this for a while now. The last time you’ve seen Donghyuck’s face was almost three weeks ago - after that university and sending job applications have taken up all your free time, and the few hours you had in between to rest you simply spent alone in the comfort of your own apartment, feeling too exhausted to even consider making plans with someone else. You know it might do you good to get out more for other things than going to uni, but at the same time you know you simply don’t have the energy right now - or you would’ve already scheduled a meetup with friends. It sucks, and you’re hoping for some space to breathe in between your schedules sometime soon, but at the same time you know you will be busy with uni until your graduation, and from then on you’ll be busy getting accustomed to work and proving yourself there. And the more you think about it, the more it starts to dawn on you that things will likely not change in the near future, and that somehow the life of a freshman and that of a senior don’t really match well at all.

But you brush those thoughts off for now. The last thing you need right now is a distraction, and so you get back to revising the contents for the exam.

And then comes Sunday afternoon, and you can feel the panic coursing through your veins as if you were about to suffocate from it any second now. You’ve always had some kind of exam anxiety, but it’s never been this bad, and you have absolutely no idea what to do with it except endure and hope that tomorrow will pass quickly. That’s when your phone buzzes to let you know you’ve gotten a message, and what you see when you open the chat room tips you over the edge.

“This would’ve been more fun if we had watched it together~” - along with a picture of a laptop screen showing the credits of a movie, the interior of Donghyuck’s flat showing in the background. Your hands are shaking as you read his message, your head spinning because suddenly the stress and a feeling of helplessness overwhelms you. You end up doing the first thing that comes to mind - you call him. He picks up after the first ring.

“Jealous?” he teases you, and you stay quiet, your words suddenly stuck in your throat. Hearing only your ragged breathing, he sounds serious when he continues talking after a few moments of silence. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s up? Wanna talk about it?”

“...the exam…”

“Ahh… you’re freaking out because of it?”

“Y-yeah…” Tears well up in your eyes, but you fight hard to keep them from falling. You know if you start crying now, chances are you won’t be able to talk properly in order to explain yourself to him. “I studied everything but I don’t feel like it’s enough… I have no idea how I’m supposed to pass tomorrow…” A sob escapes you at the end of it, and Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate to answer,

“I’ll come over. Just wait for me and hold tight, I’ll be there in 30.”

And so that’s what he does. He doesn’t even give you the time to refuse when he hangs up, and sure enough roughly 30 minutes later he’s at your doorstep. Putting down his bags and taking off his shoes, the first thing he does is pull you into a tight hug.

“Come here,” whispered against the side of your head as he’s already holding you close, he hugs you until he can feel some of the tension leaving your body. When he finally lets you go, he picks up a paper bag he brought with him, holding it out to you and you take it from him. “I bought them on the way. I thought you could use some comfort food.” A glance inside the bag reveals a box decorated with the logo of your favourite bakery.

“Oh my god… thank you!” you exclaim, and you give him another hug as he lets out a bit of an awkward laugh.

“Ah, it’s fine, it’s nothing. Let’s have these while we go over your materials together, okay?”

“Huh?” You take a step back and raise your eyebrows at him.

“I came to help you study. So you can kick ass tomorrow!” Throwing a fist in the air in a victorious gesture, you cringe a bit at his childlike enthusiasm, but at the same time you feel thankful. Like you had been in free fall for the past days and finally someone came to catch you.

“Okay,” you accept his offer to help, and then you walk over to the small table in your living room where your laptop and your notes are scattered all over. Briefly organizing them, you skim through them together, and when you’ve reached the end of it, Donghyuck starts asking you random questions related to the topic that he can come up with. And with every question that you manage to answer, you feel just a little calmer, until you’ve gone through everything several times and it’s long dark outside.

“You’re gonna do well tomorrow,” the guy sitting next to you tells you, throwing his hand up in the air to do some stretching and you do the same, your body aching for a bit of movement after sitting down for hours.

“You think so?”

“Of course!” He seems almost offended at you doubting yourself now. “Look at all these things you memorized perfectly! You’re gonna be just fine.”

“You’re right…” you mutter. “I do feel more confident now.” Yet, you let your head hang.

“But…?” he asks.

“But… I know by the time the exam starts tomorrow I’ll be so nervous, I might forget everything…” He reaches for your hands, taking them into his and giving both of them a gentle squeeze as he looks intently at your face.

“Then you think about how well you just did and how long we just spent repeating everything you studied. With this much preparation, there’s no way you would fail.” You know that realistically speaking, that’s not necessarily true, but you decide to believe him for now. Putting trust into his words puts you at ease, so that’s what you’re going to do.

“Alright,” you say. “It’ll be fine.”

“Of course it will,” he says, laughing as if he had not a single doubt about it.

“But…”

“Another but?”

“It’s almost 2am,” you say.

“Oh.”

“Wanna stay over? It takes you ages to get home if you have to take the night buses, right?”

“It’s fine, I’ll just take a taxi,” he replies, adding, “I don’t wanna stress you out more by staying over.”

“No, I-” All the times you felt yourself forced to turn down his invitations to meet up during the past few weeks are suddenly fresh in your memory, and eventually you manage to say, “I’d actually be thankful if you could stay over… you know… keep the bad thoughts away…”

“Sure…” he responds, and growing very quiet suddenly, he gets up to wrap you into another hug. “I’ll stay.”

You each take a shower and get ready for bed, him throwing on some of his clothes you had lying around at your place anyway, and when you get under the sheets together, it feels different than usually when you sleep in the same bed. Neither of you has any thoughts about having sex for a change, and instead he simply pulls you close to let you rest your head on top of his chest. You wrap an arm around his waist as you listen to his heartbeat, already feeling sleepiness overcome you as you snuggle up to him and you can feel him drawing mindless patterns onto your skin. You feel a sense of peace and safety washing over you when your eyelids simply fall shut, and as you fall asleep you almost don’t register the way he presses a soft kiss onto your forehead.

When you open the email telling you that you got a C on your exam, the first thing you can think of doing is letting Donghyuck know.

“I passed!!!” You send him a message, and he surely doesn’t let you wait too long for an answer, along with a little sticker of a bear wearing a gold medal and giving a thumbs up.

“I told you so!!”

“It’s all thanks to you,” you write. “We need to go celebrate! Drinks on me.”

“Sounds good~”

With a broad smile on your face you put your phone into the pocket of your padded jacket. It has become cold outside, and there’s a thin layer of snow on the streets from last night. It’s the beginning of December, and before Christmas and new years you’re still going to be very busy. You have two job interviews coming up, have to prepare for your final exams and in between you should find some time to work on your dissertation. Still somehow you’re confident that you would easily be able to find a date where you can go out for your little celebration with your friend, but when you run into him on campus a week later, reality hits you right in the face.

“Y/N!” Donghyuck calls out to you as he spots you among a bunch of other students, and you fall behind to briefly talk to him.

“Oh, hi,” you say, not having seen him at all.

“You still didn’t reply to my messages,” he remarks and you immediately pull out your phone, indeed finding that you’ve left him on read two days ago.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you apologize as you remember that you clearly had the intent to respond to him, but then very obviously failed to do so. “Ah, if we can meet… today?”

“Yesterday,” he corrects you. “But I guess that didn’t happen…” You can unmistakably see the disappointment in his expression, even though he’s doing his utmost to hide it, and you furrow your brows at the sight in front of you.

“I’m sorry… I must’ve forgotten to reply while studying or something,” you say, unable to look him in the face. “You know, finals coming up.”

“Yeah… I’m studying a lot too these days,” he says, quickly adding, “But I guess as a senior it’s only natural that you’re even busier than I am.” His words sting for some reason, but it’s not like he’s wrong. Truth be told, you’ve been studying every free minute for the past few days, and in between you had a job interview that you don’t have the best of gut feelings about. You were so busy that you barely manage to have three meals a day, and yet you feel guilty about not being able to make time for him.

“I’m really sorry, Hyuck…” you say and he mutters an “it’s okay” as an answer. “But it’s not, is it?” To that he merely glances to the side, showing a sorry smile. And right then you have an idea. “You know what?” As you reach out to take his hand into yours, he raises his eyebrows at you, taken by surprise by your sudden action. “Let’s set a date right now. Then we don’t have to worry about me forgetting to reply or something.”

“But… that won’t change the fact that you’re super busy…” he reasons, but you cut him off.

“It’s fine, I should be able to spare at least a few hours,” you say, opening your calendar app on your phone and scrolling through the days until exam week starts. “How about next Friday? Friday night sounds like a good time for a little study break and having a celebration instead.”

“S-sure.” You barely notice how he’s atypically dumbfounded at your enthusiasm, only focusing on the fact that you finally found a date to see each other again.

“Great! My place or yours?” you ask, already typing it into your phone.

“Mine… you wanna bring the drinks? Then I’ll take care of the food,” he offers, now taking his phone out as well, probably to put the meet up into his calendar as well.

“Sounds good,” you say in a rush. “Then I’ll see you Friday! Sorry, but… I really have to go now. I was gonna study some more at the library - you coming too?”

“Ah, no, I… have class in half an hour,” he explains briefly, and as you wave your goodbyes and you’re already running off, you fail to notice how his shoulders are suddenly slouched over and there’s a hint of disappointment in the way he looks at you as you’re walking away.

You sigh as you stare at the email you just received, and you immediately regret even checking your mailbox in the middle of studying in the first place. You got rejected for the last job you applied to - but at least you should be thankful that they let you know about it in the first place, right? After all, the last two companies didn’t even do that much after your interview with them. You gulp, trying to swallow all the disappointment bubbling up inside and attempting to shove it back down to where it came from, and then eventually you cross your arms on the table, resting your head on top and you close your eyes for a while. Another sigh escapes you, and you feel the weight of your responsibilities lay heavily on your shoulders. You’re trying not to beat yourself up over not having found a job for after your graduation yet - you know that everyone’s struggling with finding employment these days. But you really don’t want to take on a job you’re overqualified for, or one that’s not in your field of studies at all. You’ve already made too many compromises because of this, like being willing to move to another city for your job, or expanding on what type of positions you’re applying to. And still, nothing. It’s starting to get to you, even though you hate that it is, and even though you had told yourself to focus on your exams and your dissertation first and foremost. But all of these things stacked on top of each other have led you to lose your spark a bit, and there’s no denying you’re starting to feel burnt out.

You tell yourself it’s fine, it will pass and eventually your life will get less stressful again. But for now you can feel that you’re at your limit, and you could really use some comfort.

“Right,” you mutter to yourself, lifting your head and looking at the date displayed in the bottom corner of your laptop screen. “Only a few hours to go. Then I can see him.” It’s Friday afternoon, and so you take a deep breath and bring yourself to study some more, before you can finally go to Donghyuck’s place, spending a full evening not having to think about any of this. Burying your head in your books and your lecture notes, you end up not realizing how fast the time is passing, and next time you check the clock, it’s already past 7.

“Oh god…” you quickly pick up your phone, seeing that your friend already sent you a message asking where you are. You were scheduled to be at his place at 7, but somehow you completely lost track of time.

“I’m so sory I didn’t realize hwo late is is. Ill hurry!!” You type up that message as quickly as possible, ignoring the typos as you send it, and then you jump out of your seat to get ready.

It’s almost 8pm when he opens the door for you and you apologize first thing as you hand him the tote bag with the alcohol you had promised to bring.

“Ah, but you thought of the important stuff,” he says with a forced smile, trying to brighten the mood a bit before he invites you in and you kick off your shoes and take off your coat to follow him inside.

“I’m really really sorry,” you say once again when you’ve made yourself comfortable on his couch. “I was studying and suddenly it was already this late…”

“It’s okay,” Donghyuck says as he carries over two glasses from the kitchen, handing you one of them. “We’re both busy, it’s not like I don’t understand.”

“But you’re upset.”

“A little,” he admits without looking you in the eyes, and when he continues talking, he does his best to sound cheerful. “But let’s not let that ruin the entire evening. We were both looking forward to today, right?”

“Yeah,” you say. “You won’t believe how glad I am to finally be here,” you add, and you feel the way your body relaxes just by being near him. You earn yourself a bright smile for that comment, before he lifts up the glass in his hand.

“I found the recipe for this a few days ago and wanted to try it,” he says. “I thought it’s your style.” You find a few ice cubes swimming in the beverage he handed you, along with a slice of lemon. The color is a dark shade of yellow at the bottom, and completely transparent at the top, and you nod at the presentation.

“It looks good,” you say. “I’ll try it. Cheers!” Each taking a sip, you agree that you like the taste, and the guy sitting next to you on his sofa explains,

“The recipe says you should put a bit of mint in as well, but… I didn’t have any.”

“I think it’s good the way it is… but, I’m starving. Let’s order food?”

“Me too,” he answers, getting out his phone.

You order takeout, and while you eat and drink, you watch a movie that you’ve both been wanting to see for some time. You end up chatting here and there during less interesting scenes, and even though you enjoy the movie overall, you enjoy talking to him more. Eventually, as your eyelids begin to feel heavy, you rest your head on his shoulder and he lets you, and you don’t think anything of the peaceful smile he gives you upon feeling you so close to him. He puts one of his hands on top of your thigh, mindlessly rubbing his palm up and down, and by the end of the movie you can’t deny anymore that his actions are affecting you. Credits still rolling, you turn your head to face him, and wordlessly you kiss him, his lips melting against yours. You part for a mere second in which you put your hand behind his neck, and as you let yourself fall against the backrest of his sofa, he hovers above you, distance closing again.

“Hyuck…” you breathe his name when you part the next time. “Need you…”

“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” he mutters into a sweet kiss, and then he gets up, taking you by your hands to pull you up along with him. As soon as you step into the bedroom you pull him in for another kiss, and you stumble backwards as he steers you towards his bed. He barely lets you lie down when he’s already on top of you, kissing you more deeply. Tongue running across your lip to ask for permission to enter, you allow it without hesitation, and you moan at the way he kisses you slowly but passionately.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says after parting, “just lean back, okay?”

“Okay…” you answer and he lets his fingertips wander down your clothed body. Undoing the button of your jeans, he unhurriedly slips his hand inside them, and he watches you intently as his fingertips brush against your soaked panties, his voice sultry as he teases you, “So wet already… I didn’t know you were that desperate for me…” Before letting you answer, he leans in to place a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, starting to rub up and down between your folds slowly.

“I thought I’d go crazy without this…” you confess, arms wrapped around him and one hand up in his hair. You play with his locks as he teases you, and you whine, “More, please… don’t make me wait even longer…”

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, and then he buries his face in your neck, leaving kisses there as you throw your head back.

“Anything… even if it’s just your fingers, please just get me off…” you beg, only now realizing just how desperate you really are. Donghyuck gulps at your words, and he kisses his way up to your jaw and along it, until his lips are hovering right above yours.

“Tell me how badly you need me…” he mutters, pushing the fabric of your underwear aside so he could touch you directly. “I wanna hear everything.” As he starts rubbing small circles on your clit his lips go back to tending to your neck, kissing and nipping on the sensitive skin and making it that much more difficult for you to form coherent sentences. Still you can’t but do as told.

“So bad… need you so bad,” you mewl. “I tried to get off so many times, but nothing feels as good as when you touch me…” He hums at your words, granting you a finger dipping inside your pussy for just a moment in return and gasping at just how wet you are.

“I’ll make up for it,” he says. “I’ll make you cum so good.” You whimper, and then you instinctively buck your hips as his finger ghosts above your entrance. You hear him curse through gritted teeth at how needy you’re becoming, and blood rushes to your head from the thought alone that your state could turn him on so much as well.

“Please… just give me your fingers…” you whine, and to your surprise Donghyuck doesn’t drag out his teasing for longer. And so you cry out when he pushes inside, pumping in and out of you while watching your every reaction to his touch. “Fuck…” you hiss, already seeing your high approaching from far away. “I’m not gonna last long…”

“It’s okay,” he coos over you. “Wanna feel you cum around my fingers… can you take another one?”

“Y-yes… yes please…” you say mindlessly, only being able to think about how you want to feel him more. The stretch is bearable when he pushes into you with three fingers, and when he presses his thumb against your bundle of nerves, fingering you skillfully, you think you’re about to lose your mind. “Fuck… yes… don’t stop, please…” you mewl as he slowly picks up speed until he can see the bliss on your facial features. At this point all you can do is moan his name and dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you cling to him, bucking your hips in chase of your orgasm.

“Shit, you’re so pretty…” you hear him mutter under his breath as he marvels at the sight in front of him, and next thing you know your whole body is shaken by the force of your high. You whine as he fucks you through it, right until your last aftershocks, and then you simply close your eyes as you lay back on his bed, feeling the exhaustion from the past weeks taking over you. Licking his fingers clean after pulling out of you, he then captures your chin between his thumb and index finger to make you look at him.

“What do you want me to do next?” he asks, his words sounding maybe even sweeter than usual to your ears, and you blame it on the way your mind is still in a haze from your orgasm. You think about it for a short while, and in the end you simply snuggle up to him closely.

“Let’s just… stay like this for a while,” you answer. “If that’s okay with you… I think I just need to be close to you.”

“Sure…” Donghyuck mutters, a bit taken aback by your response that must’ve come very unexpectedly to him. However, he doesn’t hesitate to put an arm around your frame, making you feel safe in a warm embrace. “That good?” he asks, and when you nod he presses his lips against your forehead, lingering there for a while.

You don’t move, not knowing how much time is passing while you’re merely listening to the other’s breathing and enjoying each other’s warmth. At that moment, you wish you could stay like this forever, but as you close your eyes and begin to relax, all your thoughts from the past weeks about your situation with him catch up to you one by one. Deep inside you know it can’t stay like this. And the longer you’re dragging this out, the more clearly you can see just how unfair this is on him. And so eventually, you don’t see any other plausible course of action to take next than to start talking.

“Thank you… for being by my side,” you mutter. Your hand having found its way into his, you’re playing with his fingers, eyes focused on that. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you lately… really.”

“Of course!” he responds, moving back a bit to get a proper look at your face. “You know I’d do anything for you.” You chuckle at his exaggerated words, letting go of his hand and ruffling his hair instead.

“I’m glad to have met you again,” you continue. “But… I’ve been thinking, you know? And I don’t think we can go on like this.”

“What…?”

“Just… I’m only gonna get busier, you know…?” The exact moment that he sits up, his comforting touch being torn away from you as he stares at you with disbelief on his face, you inevitably begin to feel like you fucked up. But you started this now, and there’s no way you could dig yourself back out of this mess, so you decide it’d be for the best to just see it through and be honest with him. “You know that I could never pay you back all that you’ve done for me… Hyuck.” You call out his name, but he barely even reacts with nothing but a blank expression in his eyes. You could’ve sworn you’ve never seen him this pale. “I’m gonna graduate, Hyuck. You’ll still be a student when I start working. Hell, I might have to move somewhere completely different if I don’t find a job in this city soon. And once I do find employment, I’m gonna have to work my ass off to prove my worth. I won’t have time to fool around like this anymore…”

“Fool… around…?” he repeats, speaking slowly, as his expression suddenly reflects a hundred complicated feelings. “Fool around… was all this is to you?”

“I mean… we’re friends too, obviously-”

“Y/N,” he cuts you off, and the way he says your name stabs you like a knife. “I have feelings too, you know. You can’t just…” A bitter laugh escapes him. “You’re going to tell me that it’s better if we didn’t see each other anymore, aren’t you?”

“No!” you immediately refute. “I mean-... look, we can stay friends, but I don’t know how much we’ll actually be able to see each other-”

“Friends?” he repeats in utter disbelief. “You don’t realize it, do you?”

“Realize what-”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I love you.”

“What…?” That is all you manage to reply to his confession. You really did never notice it, and so this comes as a shock to you. You realize that maybe him saying he’d do anything for you wasn’t an exaggeration at all, but you didn’t think he’d keep this fuckbuddy thing up if he had feelings for you all along. As if he had read your mind, he says,

“I’m sorry… I-... I didn’t want to tell you like this…” he speaks, his head hanging low now. “Not when I know you have a thousand other things to worry about, but… I just couldn’t… you said all these hurtful things. I don’t think you know how much hearing all that just now hurts.”

“I-,” you begin, but you don’t know what to say. You stare at him in utter disbelief for a moment, and then all of a sudden, from one second to the other, you feel like you’re going to suffocate if you don’t get out of here as fast as possible. “I… I can’t do this right now.” You get up off the bed and zip up your jeans. Your head is in chaos and your emotions are all jumbled up, but the one thing you can clearly feel is the anger burning in your veins. You truly are upset that he dropped such a bomb on you just before exams start and you need a clear head more than anything. “I’m going home… sorry,” you mutter under your breath, and without another look back at the guy who can’t do anything but watch as you’re slipping out of his grasp once again, you walk out of the door.

“Good luck for your exams” You let out a sigh as you finally delete the notification of the message Donghyuck sent you four days ago as you’re on your way to uni for your last exam. It’s Friday noon and you can’t wait for all of this to be over, the beginning of winter break feeling like you’re finally about to reach the safe shore after you’ve been almost drowning for weeks.

You didn’t talk to Donghyuck for the entirety of the week - of course, or you would’ve long answered his message that he sent you on Monday. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, you didn’t even dare open the chatroom. Instead, you had focused on the necessities to get you through this week: sleep, eat, revise everything you studied, be on time for your exams, rinse and repeat. And now that it’s already the last day of this nightmare, you can’t wait to simply crash into bed once you arrive home tonight.

It’s true that you’ve been feeling the relief after every single exam you finished, like some of the weight was taken off your shoulder with each time you walk out of a lecture hall. And yet you still feel the tiredness in your bones, but there’s something else tugging at your limbs and trying to make you stop running from one task to the other. However, you don’t let it. Too big is the fear of what you might find if you do stop and have a look, so you force all thoughts out of your mind that have nothing to do with your exams. And today as well your mind is empty when you take your seat and you’re handed the paper you’re supposed to fill out during the next one and a half hours, trusting your memory and your ability to recall the correct answers you have studied to each question.

As you’re leaving the lecture hall, finally done with the last one of your exams, somebody calls out to you. You turn your head to find one of your friends catching up with you, greeting you with a lively expression on her face.

“We’re finally done,” she says. “Now we only need to wait for our final paper to be graded and then we’re free!”

“Yeah,” you respond, trying to sound cheerful but inevitably failing. You’re just tired at this point, and no matter how relieved you are that exams are over, you can’t bring yourself to be happy.

“What’s with you?” your friend asks, concern in her voice. “Do you have to redo one of your exams?”

“No, no, it’s nothing,” you assure her, but she doesn’t buy it.

“There’s something up with you. Did studying take that much out of you?”

“I guess,” you reply as you walk down the hallway with her, but then you hesitate. “Actually… nevermind.”

“Hm? Y/N, what is it? You’re being really weird.” She steps in front of you, making you halt on the spot, but eventually she keeps walking. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t pressure you to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“...it’s about a friend,” you admit finally.

“A friend?” she repeats. “Did something happen to them?”

“No, just… we just haven’t seen each other much lately, and… yeah.” You lower your head and she steps closer.

“That must be a very good friend if you miss them so much,” she states, matter of factly, and that’s when you feel a stab right to your heart, putting you in physical pain.

“Right…” you mutter. Without you realizing, Donghyuck’s presence has painted your ordinary days in a color of hope, wrapping you in a feeling of safety whenever you’re with him and making you become way too comfortable around him. And now that it’s come this far, you don’t know how you’re supposed to scratch off all that paint anymore. The thought alone makes you feel sick to the stomach - you shouldn’t have been such an idiot. You knew where this would lead, and that you wouldn’t have the time to fool around with him anymore once you’ve graduated. A feeling of deep regret overcomes you.

You shouldn’t have said yes when he suggested leaving your class reunion together.

When you get home that day, you finally let yourself feel the full consequences of the past weeks filled with stress and you crash into your bed immediately. You haven’t planned to go to sleep this early, but at some point you simply find yourself drifting off, and the next time you open your eyes it’s Saturday morning.

Your body aches as you force yourself to get out of bed, and when you open the curtains and the sunlight blinds your eyes, you curse existence itself. You trod over to the bathroom, wash your face, and after finding yourself unable to look at your reflection in the mirror, you return to your little kitchen to get yourself a simple breakfast. Finishing it while scrolling through social media on your phone, you then get yourself back to your bed, plummeting down on it and grabbing one of the books stacked atop your bedside table that you never found the time to finish while uni has kept you occupied. You open it on the page you had left off weeks ago, and after fighting your way through roughly two and a half paragraphs, you give up and you put the book back to where it’s been resting untouched until now. Your mind just won’t let you focus on this now, so you pick your heavy body up off the comfortable sheets and decide to take a shower first of all.

Things continue like this for the next few days. Even though exams are finally over, you just can’t find it in you to rest properly. Neither going out to have fun nor staying at home and having some quality alone time sound appealing to you, and soon enough you figure out why. No matter what you do or where you are, there’s this constant pain in your chest dragging you down, because time and time again you find yourself impulsively wanting to tell Donghyuck about your day, or even just sending him a funny meme you found on instagram. But you can’t. In a way this reminds you of five years ago, when you started spending less and less time together in high school and then eventually broke up with each other. You recall finding yourself in situations like this back when you started college as well, wanting to tell him about something fun or exciting that happened but feeling unable to, because it’s already been months since you had last talked. However, there’s one significant difference between then and now.

Then, you merely found it a shame that you couldn’t freely text him or talk to him anymore. But you had moved on, finding new friends to talk to about those same things. Now, it’s like someone had torn a chunk of yourself out of your chest, and you’re slowly bleeding out as your nervous system prevents you from doing anything at all, signaling you that there must be a more urgent matter to take care of first. And only once you come to understand that this matter has to do with nothing other than Donghyuck himself, that’s when something finally connects in your mind. Your days have been painted with his colors, but maybe you’re not supposed to get rid of all that paint. Maybe you’re simply supposed to embrace it, because after all those years he’s become someone who’s just right for you. And maybe he’s become someone you can even come to love.

No, he’s already someone you love, you just never realized it.

Without thinking, you open your chatroom with Donghyuck, his last message still unanswered, and you start typing.

“I need to see you.”

“Now.”

You stand on his doorstep, taking a deep breath. Donghyuck had texted you back eventually, offering to meet at his place, so that’s where you are now, nervous to ring the doorbell. It was you who suddenly decided to come see him, so why are you so hesitant?

Another deep breath, exhaled shakily, and you reach out to press the bell button. Maybe 10 seconds later, the door opens, and when Donghyuck mutters a greeting with a distant expression in his eyes, it’s like a slap to your face.

“Come in, I guess,” he says as he’s already turning around, and you do as told. Taking your shoes off, you follow him a few steps inside, and shooting you a cold look, he asks, “What do you need to talk about?”

You’ve never seen him like this. Even when you broke up at the end of high school there wasn’t such a dark expression on his face. At that moment you have no idea how to shake off the guilt anymore, and so all you can do is let the words burst out of you.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for doing this to you.” He watches you with a look over his shoulder and you let your head hang, hoping he isn’t aware of the way tears are welling up in your eyes. “I can’t imagine how much I must’ve hurt you.” You add those words through gritted teeth, afraid of a sob suddenly making its way past your lips if you’re not careful.

“Then why are you the one crying?” he asks, staying surprisingly calm.

“B-because…” You gulp, and figuring that it’s too late anyway, you lift your chin to look at him and you use the sleeves of your shirt to wipe the tears from your eyes. “Because I’m an idiot. And I don’t want to see the person I love suffer.”

“Y/N…” he breathes your name before turning around fully to face you. He steps closer, but still keeps a good distance between you two. “You rejected me only a few days ago…”

“I know.” Your words are merely a whisper now. “Because I was scared… the future seems so overwhelming that I kept thinking I don’t have space for something like this. But… that doesn’t mean… that I didn’t still fall in love with you.” Silence follows, the only sound disrupting it being the soft sigh Donghyuck lets out before he finally closes the distance between you.

“Can I… hold you?” You nod at his question and you let him come closer, until you find yourself safely wrapped into his embrace, his warm breath tickling your neck as he buries his face there.

“I’m so sorry for how I acted… you must really hate me now…” you mutter, and you’re almost startled when your friend lets out a laugh as he’s holding you.

“Yes, because I always go around hugging my enemies like this,” he says with a tired yet cheeky grin on his lips, and seeing that expression on his face suddenly washes all your worries away.

“Right…”

“It’s okay, Y/N… I know you had a rough time. I shouldn’t have confessed to you so suddenly either,” he apologizes, but you immediately shake your head, vigorously.

“No, don’t say sorry! I… I kind of get it… that it had to get out,” you say. “Especially after I said all those hurtful things to you.” He brings one hand up to your cheek, brushing his knuckles against the skin there and as his eyes scan your facial features you can unmistakably see how much he adores you. It makes your heart soar, and you part your lips as your gaze falls to his mouth.

“Y/N,” he calls out to you. “Does that mean… I can ask you to be my girlfriend now?”

“Sure…” you mumble, the urge to feel his lips on yours clouding your mind. “And when I’m your girlfriend… can you kiss me then?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, and he takes a tiny step away from you so he could take your hands into his, intertwining your fingers. “Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?” You can’t suppress the smile that creeps onto your face as you listen to his question, and you nod.

“Yes, please,” you answer. “Let me be your girlfriend.” And then he kisses you, slowly and carefully, and this time you aren’t confused on what those feelings he’s pouring into this kiss are. This time you know that it’s all the love he has for you, and you let it wrap you into a veil of warmth and comfort, feeling safe with him.

“I love you,” you mutter in between kisses, and eventually your hands find their way up into his hair. You kiss him back as you comb through it, and when you hear him whisper those same words back at you in between kisses, you once again can’t control the smile on your lips. You part to look at each other, finding an unmistakable desire for more behind his gaze, and so you begin moving as you connect your lips to his again.

"I'm sorry..." you mutter in between kisses, as you're steering him towards the bedroom, and he lets out a sigh against your lips in response. "I want to make it up to you."

"You don't have to," Donghyuck mutters with his hands on your waist, and you reach the bed, positioning yourselves so you could have him sit with one swift push against his chest. Crawling on top of him as he merely looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted while he awaits your next kiss, he's already completely drunk on you.

"Then see it as me taking care of you?" you whisper, reconnecting your lips to his. Your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and him having his hands securely placed on your sides for stability, you merely keep kissing like that. Unhurriedly, because now you both know there's nothing rushing you anymore, nothing that would tear you apart.

"I love you." He mutters those words as you part, and when you open your eyes you can see him already nervously peeking up at you. You can't help but smile endearingly, cupping his cheek with one hand before you lean in for another sweet kiss to his reddened lips.

"I love you too, Hyuck," you say just when you pull back, and you let your fingertips wander down his upper body. Watching his face closely for his reactions, you pull his shirt off him, tossing it to the floor, and then you add, "Lie down for me, baby. I'll make you feel good." It comes as a surprise even to you to see him obey so quickly, and you let your palm glide down the bare skin on his chest and abdomen as he lies back. And then, when you reach for his wrists to pin them against the bed right next to his head, you can see a slight but still apparent blush creeping onto his cheeks, and he lets out a sound that's somewhere between a groan and a quiet whine.

"Fuck, you make me go crazy," you mutter as you press another kiss to his puffy lips, and when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip he moans into your mouth, the act alone sending heatwaves through your body. You instinctively roll your hips on top of his, earning yourself another small mewl from him, and then you trail kisses from the corner of his mouth to his throat. He leans his head back to give you better access, brows furrowed as he sighs in contentment. Forming his hands into fists, he digs his nails into his palms and whines some more as you continue grinding down on him, and the way you feel him grow underneath you turns you on as well. And then eventually you let go of his wrists to work your way down, peppering kisses all over his chest as he immediately throws his arms around your body, holding onto you tightly.

"Hyuck..." you call out his name as you sit up briefly, and then you continue trailing nips and kisses down his body. "Let me hear you." He curses as your hand ghosts above his core, watching you with an expectant gaze in his eyes. You pull down the sweatpants he's wearing, and then his underwear, both just enough so his hard length is exposed. You wrap your fingers around him, and you kneel above him now, one of his thighs positioned between your legs, so you could get a good look at his face as you start to slowly jerk him off.

"Look at me," you demand, and he does, the blush returning to his cheeks.

"Faster..." he mutters, barely audible, and you teasingly ask him to repeat himself. "Faster, please..." he begs through gritted teeth, and when you tighten your grip on his shaft just a little bit, he responds with a moan. "Can't take it..."

"Are you gonna let me hear more of those pretty moans?" you question, lips quivering in anticipation.

"Y-yes..." You don't know if your mind is tricking you or if his blush is growing just a bit darker as he answers, but either way you begin to move your hand faster, having him whining underneath you as he throws his head back. You watch with your lips slightly parted, and it's not like you've never seen him like this before, but there's just something about the way he gives himself up to pleasure when you have him in this kind of position that always gets you going. You move your hips in tune with the speed at which you get him off, grinding your clothed core down on his thigh, and he pushes his leg up just a bit to give you more friction.

"Shit..." you hiss, pleasure clouding your mind, and Donghyuck reaches down to wrap his fingers around your hand, guiding you into a faster pace. You collect the precum leaking his tip and use it as lube to glide down his length more smoothly, and as you can see on his face that he's about to lose himself to the sensation, you mutter a warning, "Don't cum yet."

"But-" he whines, and you take your hand away just before he can reach his high. "Y/N..." he desperately whines your name and you lean in to press a soothing kiss somewhere onto his chest, and then another one against his cheek.

"I wanna have you cumming inside me," you whisper, and when you sit back up you quickly rid yourself of all your clothes, in the end helping him out of his pants as well. You crawl on top of him, your hands placed on his shoulders for support, and you let out a curse as you roll your hips against him, his tip rubbing against your folds. And once again he whines, pressing his eyes tightly shut and digging his nails into your hips.

"Just fuck me already..." he breathes, but you have other plans.

"Be good and I will, baby," you coo as you repeat your motion without letting him slip inside you. He begins to squirm underneath you, visibly fighting to suppress his orgasm, and you swear you could cum from the sight alone. "Fuck... you're so fucking hot like that, Hyuck..." you mutter through gritted teeth, his repeated whines sounding like music to your ears.

"C-can't... hold back..." And once again you stop the stimulation just as he's about to cum, and with a frustrated groan he throws his head back into the mattress, dragging his nails down your skin. You reach for his hands, and as you intertwine your fingers you pin them above his head, and you can't but coo over the desperate look he gives you, and the way his cheeks are reddening again.

"You gonna cum right when I take you in, aren't you?" you ask, smirking at him after pressing a kiss to his forehead. "So desperate for my pussy..." And he can't do anything but whine at your words, because you both know you're right, and him denying it would just make him look stupid. "Then cum for me, baby," you mutter against his lips as you seal them with yours, running your tongue along his mouth to deepen the kiss. You sink down on him, taking in his size with ease, and the second you start rolling your hips he releases inside you as he moans into your mouth. Heat rushes through your veins when you part and you sit up, letting go of his wrists and combing the fingers of one hand through his disheveled hair instead.

"Didn't think you really would cum the instant you're inside me," you mock him, earning yourself another whine from him. "And I bet you're also gonna be hard again in no time if I keep this up," you mumble, rolling your hips on top of him slowly. "Such a sucker for when I'm in control, huh?"

"Yeah..." he breathes out, and you unexpectedly feel your heart swell at his answer. Usually he'd be fighting back by now, trying to battle you for dominance or at least being bratty, but today you really just have him at your mercy unconditionally.

"Is it because I finally said that I love you?" you conclude, as if he had heard your thought process.

"Huh?" You run your fingers through his hair again, and then you lean in for another deep kiss.

"Do you like it that much when I play with you like this, or are you being good because you're scared I'll leave if you're not perfect for me?" Donghyuck stares at you for a while as you sit back up, the blush on his cheeks fading, and when he finally reaches out to you to press your body against his for a tight embrace, he answers,

"No, I trust you. And I kinda like it when you sometimes use me." A storm of emotions washing over you, you bring some distance between you and him slowly, and after mustering his genuine expression for a while, you reach for his hands once again.

"Don't touch me," you order as you put them back into their place above his head. "And don't cum until I tell you to. If you wanna be my little toy you gotta be good, alright?"

"Alright." He gulps, taking you in as you're sitting on top of him, starting to ride him with one hand sliding down your body, fingertips reaching your core to give yourself some extra stimulation. Eyes dripping with honey, he keeps his hands in place, and the more you can feel him growing inside you, the more you can also see him struggling to keep his composure.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," he mutters eventually, and you hum a praise to signal him to keep going. "Feels so good... wanna be good for you..."

"That's right..." you mutter, your eyelids fluttering shut as you bounce on top of him, rubbing circles onto your clit. You position yourself so that everytime you sink down on him his tip would graze that perfect spot inside you, and along with listening to his words and the way his voice starts shaking from the pleasure has you seeing stars soon enough.

"U-use me, please... wanna feel you cum on my cock..." he sputters, and you moan at his pleas.

"Doing so well for me, baby... shit, nobody could ever make me feel as good as you..." He whines desperately as you keep your pace slow, in hopes of bringing him as close as possible to the edge as you're racing towards your own high. "Hyuck..." you mutter his name, your voice trembling. "Cum with me." Another moan falling from his lips and you feel yourself shaken by your orgasm, clenching around him as he spills inside you a second time.

"Shit..." With a curse you collapse on top of him, finding him wrapping his arms around you in a comforting motion, and you add, "You were amazing." He nuzzles his face into the side of your head, lips brushing against your temple, and once you've caught your breath a bit you give him a proper kiss. "I'm sorry... for trying to push you away like th-" Donghyuck puts his index finger across your lips, shutting you up in the process, and with a soft smile he shakes his head.

"Stop apologizing," he says. "It's okay now. Let's focus on the future, and how we can build it together." His hand cupping your face and his thumb brushing against your cheek make your heart skip a beat, and you simply nod.

"You're right," you respond, and you lie back down on top of him, nestling into his chest. "If we just have each other, we can make it through anything."

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actual-changeling · 3 months

Text

I was once again re-watching good omens, and I once again realized something incredibly painful, so welcome back to

Alex's unhinged meta corner.

I really need to make a masterpost at some point.

You see, the very first episode not only foreshadows their last argument, it also tells us exactly why it will happen and what problem/offer they will have to face.

We don't usually pay much attention to it because it's a) in the very first episode and then doesn't come up again and b) we know that Crowley would never accept it.

My realization is that Beelzebub's offer mirrors the Metatron's. Both Crowley and Aziraphale are given the same kind of opportunity—but one says no and the other says yes.

Let's have a look!

This is not going to be chronological but more of a go with the flow thing because the aspects are the same but they don't appear in the same order.

The most obvious part first: the job offer itself.

Beelzebub offers him a promotion and later on specifies that he can be a Duke of Hell, one of the few people in charge. I believe that if Gabriel and Beez' plan had been to run away together from the very beginning, ze would have offered Crowley zir own job as Prince of Hell. Still, being a Duke would probably put him in a standing similar to Michael or Uriel's.

The Metatron obviously offers him the job of Supreme Archangel, which is the highest possible position for an angel to hold, aka it's the same promotion, just different colours.

Both offers also stem from the exact same problem—Gabriel is gone.

Now, Beelzebub and the Metatron aren't stupid, they know that they need to convince them to take it, they have to embellish it and play with their wants and fears.

Beelzebub presumably makes the correct assumption that Aziraphale is hiding Gabriel or that the two of them are somehow involved (because they always are), and while ze uses it as a threat/warning, the Metatron takes what is now fact and uses it in the opposite way.

Additionally, ze trusts Crowley to not only deliver Gabriel back to zem but to take care of him until he's safe and sound with his partner.

'I trust you with him' -> 'He trusted you with himself'.

I will now do a little jump to the last part of Aziraphale's conversation with the Metatron right in front of the lift. Once again, they appeal to a characteristic Crowley and Aziraphale share.

'You know earth and that is a useful asset.' What has previously been punished and was seen as a weakness—what is he, he has gone native, you've been down here for too long—is now praised.

It's good that you know earth, we see that you are worth something, you are different but that is good now.

Crowley does not care about that at all, he gives exactly zero fucks about what hell thinks of him, but Aziraphale? Who has been trying to impress the Archangels for six thousand years and been humiliated by them during Armageddon? This is what he has been craving all along, respect for his job on earth and to be recognized as a Good Angel.

Well, that was the carrot, time for the stick: threats.

They remind them of their respective status—they're both traitors, personae non gratae, and they could still be punished for that. After the trial, they were largely left alone, but they drew attention to themselves again, they became a problem.

The Metatron is more subtle, as usual. He knows that Aziraphale lied his ass off several times, including directly in front of God. This is not a just compliment, it's a threat—I know who you are and I have the power to make you feel that

'You don't just tell people what they want to hear.' Again, they are sitting at this table and both know that the opposite is true, and the Metatron is both using it to threaten him and to establish the clear expectations he will have for him should he take the job. Also, by saying he thinks Aziraphale is those things, he gives him more praise, more respect.

Both sides know that Aziraphale and Crowley are each other's biggest weakness; they want to be safe and together. I think it is clear what kind of threat/danger Beez is presenting Crowley, but we rarely talk about the fact that the Metatron also threatens him, just not as explicitly.

Aziraphale will be destroyed if they find Gabriel with him, and Crowley cannot let that happen. However, contrary to heaven, hell has more or less known about the two of them for decades, and they never actually cared about the arrangement as long as the job got done. They punished Crowley when he did good deeds aka not his fucking job but the opposite.

'I know you care about him, he's at risk if you don't help me find him.'

The Metatron on the other hand makes it clear that HE specifically knows about him and Crowley, and Aziraphale did not know who exactly was privy to that information and if it reached the Metatron. Not just that, he emphasizes that he has been doing research on them, he can dig up whatever dirt he likes and then kill them both.

No one would be able to stop him.

This next part is going to be interesting because it is a parallel that Aziraphale doesn't and currently wouldn't be able to see, while Crowley does see it very, very clearly.

When the Metatron tells Aziraphale he can take Crowley with him to heaven and make him an angel again, that is good news to him! It is PERFECT! It would solve out of his problems, and who wouldn't want to be an angel, on the side of good?

Everything the Metatron did up to this point, from 'saving' them from punishment at the hand of the Archangels, over getting him coffee, to giving twisted praise, has had one primary objective: Get Aziraphale to trust him.

It worked. Consequently, Aziraphale does not question what he tells him now, and believes that he truly could take Crowley with him and make him an angel again. He has no concept of what falling actually means, and what it meant for Crowley in particular, so he cannot discern the threat within it.

Yet when he presents it to Crowley, who is horrified and rightfully so, we are once again shown that no, Aziraphale does not understand. Crowley does, though. That angel he was no longer exists, he cannot go back to it because they're gone, and he would not want to either. Everything they have built on earth their life, their existence, would mean absolutely nothing and cease to exist.

Do you see the threat yet?

Here is what Beelzebub tells him, and what we are told over and over and over again throughout the season.

Erased from the book of life, gone from existence, everything they were, had, owned, lived—gone.

Erased from the book of life vs. turned back into an angel that doesn't exist anymore, that CAN'T exist again.

Put the threat and the 'offer' next to each other, and Crowley sees the same fate in both: His existence will be destroyed. Aziraphale, like I said above, doesn't. The book of life is a threat, but turning him into an angel is a blessing.

Right now, it doesn't matter whether the book of life really exists or if a demon can be turned back into an angel. What matters is that they both BELIEVE those things are real and possible, because that is what they act on, belief.

Beelzebub sends him away with bad news, the Metatron pushes Aziraphale to tell Crowley good news. Same offer, same possible outcomes (either they get to live together or one of them/both get destroyed), but entirely different responses.

Crowley says no. Aziraphale says yes.

Aziraphale thinks Crowley should have said yes.

Crowley thinks Aziraphale should have said no.

So. We know what happens next and personally, combing through all of this in detail only made it hurt worse!! If it did the same for you—you're welcome, I love my job.

#alex talks good omens #good omens meta #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #alex's unhinged meta corner

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neuroprincess · 4 months

Text

Law & Order: SVU - First Date + First Kiss (Preferences)

Classification: Fluff

Pairing: Alex Cabot, Casey Novak, Liz Donnelly, Olivia Benson and Rita Calhoun

Warnings: None

Word count: +1000

Alex Cabot

- The blonde quickly pulls herself together, trying to mask the confusion of feelings and the shock of seeing you after so many years without any contact, failing miserably. She feels a little lost, not knowing how to act, slightly out of it. And continues like this for the next few weeks, even showing up almost every day at the bakery until finally getting up the courage to ask you out to dinner. It's a fancy restaurant, at a table away from curious eyes and the atmosphere is pleasant, you talk about your lives so far, between laughs, wine and an occasional physical touch, like hands accidentally crossing, her touch on your back as you get up from the chair, pinky fingers so close as you walk along the sidewalk that one can feel the warmth of the other. Alex insists on taking you home, you stop in front of the apartment door and both smile nervously. "I missed you." She whispers, tucking a stubborn lock of hair behind your ear. "No more than I missed you." You stare at each other for a few seconds and ADA leans in, asking permission with her gaze to continue, then you nod, joining your lips in a gentle and needy kiss, full of emotion, longing.

Casey Novak

- It was no surprise when, in the middle of dinner, Casey's phone rang and she was forced to run after some judge to get warrants, she had barely touched the food, nor had you, both immersed in a fun and spontaneous flirting. The following week she's waiting for you in the lobby of the precinct with a box of your favorite dessert, which was mentioned at dinner, and a mysterious proposal. She takes you for a apparently directionless walk until ending up at a softball practice cage, no one else there, all the equipment waiting. Her words are patient, hands soft around your waist, body warm and slightly sweaty behind yours as her fingers wander up the forearm to put hands together and teach you how to use the bat, it's almost too much, all the sensations and little things the ginger provokes without even realizing it. "Good shot, sugar." She celebrates happily when you hit one target, proud of the result of hard work, and lifts you, twirling in the air, faces coming closer and you kiss as if it were the right thing to do, it's deep and passionate, all the tension built up over weeks expressed in one act.

Liz Donnelly

- Another night spent working late, it's become a kind of routine you've started to get used to. Long nights full of paperwork, words that start to blur together in a few hours and a dozen cups of coffee, sometimes energy drinks. The last folder has been checked and the notes reviewed, when the knock on the door wakes you up, surprised, as the building seemed empty except for the security team. "You know it's 1am, right?" Liz smiles, entering your office, a bottle of whisky and two glasses in hand "I thought you might need these." And offers one of them, a little fuller because she knows it's necessary. Hours pass without either of you noticing, the bottle is half full and you're both on the floor, high heels thrown on the carpet, messy hairstyles and trivial conversations. "So, Cabot and you...?" She asks suggestively. "Oh, no, no, actually... she's my sister." The woman is clearly surprised, you expect some kind of negativity, maybe a little suspicion, but she just smiles and approaches. "Great!" Closing the distance with a half-drunk, slow and sensual kiss.

Olivia Benson

- Board game days become a bi-weekly program between you, the two families start to meet often and a bond quickly forms, not unexpected considering how close your children are, like flesh and blood. The kids have fun in friendly competitions and eat snacks, sometimes preferring to play in the garden or watch random cartoons until they fall asleep. This time it's different, the pair went to a sleepover, you opened a bottle of wine, sipping it between relaxed conversations, a nice meal and close to midnight you're still awake. "Finally some time for the moms." She raises her glass and knocks on yours to toast the break, you both love your children, but they seem to be plugged in 24/7. "And without having to watch Trolls, I've memorized all the songs." You mumble, drinking the rest of the wine and snuggling up on the sofa, the woman unconsciously rests her arm on the headboard, touching your shoulder, both smile and try to pay attention to The Golden Girls. Almost impossible to do when long fingers wander over your bare skin, the genuine laughter and the magnetism that leads you to stare at her, enchanted. Eyes meet, breaths become heavy and you stop fighting the urge to finally kiss Olivia.

Rita Calhoun

- Her presence is very pleasant, bringing some kind of comfort to your tiring work days and boring shifts, there are delightful conversations when the restaurant is almost empty, occasionally she even makes a witty joke. As a result, you've become good friends, despite all the differences, from personality, age to social class. Bonds are created in the small details, maybe in the kind and gentle way she treats you, how she pays attention to the almost insignificant things you've left hanging in the air during a conversation, proof of which is the limited edition of your favorite book she brings to one of the dinners. Inside is a card with an address, a time and telling you to meet her there. So you do, wearing one of your favorite outfits and silently praying to be appropriate, in the end it doesn't matter much, she has prepared a candlelit dinner in the botanical garden, just you two, the nature and the stars. "I really enjoyed our night, it was lovely." You whisper and play nervously with the hands. "And what about me?" Rita teases, stopping walking, and you blush nodding positively. She tries to say something more, but is interrupted by your lips on hers in a clumsy impulse, there's a doubt in the air, answered by her hands on your waist pulling you in to deepen the passionate kiss.

taglist: @scarr0713 @geekyandgay98 @heidss @loudchaoscoffee @quailbagutte @ctrlamira @milffilm @prentiss-theorem @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @grandtacoranchnickel @@multifandomlesbianic @janeyseymour @storiesofsvu

Junte-se à minha taglist aqui ^^

#law & order: special victims unit #law and order svu #alex cabot x reader #casey novak x reader #liz donnelly x reader #olivia benson x reader #rita calhoun x reader #preferences #female reader

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em1e · 11 months

Text

birthday parties | planning mikey's bday is a pain

⿻ mini series ft. you dating shinichiro and whatever chaos that comes from that !! ✕ fluff !! ♡ series m.list

a ten year old's birthday party should be easy to organize, right?

wrong.

you’re almost sure, no, positive, if the party you were planning was for emma, it’d be a thousand times simpler. she’s somehow so much easier to attend to than mikey. so much more understanding of when things can’t go her way.

“we can’t rent the bounce house he wanted.” shinichiro groans as he plops himself down beside you on his bed, head falling into your lap while his phone sits loosely gripped in his hand.

“can we just rent a different one?” your fingers find purchase in his hair, helping to ease any tensions that remain in his shoulders with your touch alone.

“the only other one available for the day is a pink princess one. mikey would throw a fit if they pulled up with that.”

“is there another company we can order from?” your fingers pause when his eyes flutter closed, not wanting him to just fall asleep there.

“maybe one other one, but i don’t know if they have a dinosaur themed one like he wanted.” he nuzzles into your palm like a cat, wanting more than just the feel of your fingertips against his scalp.

“he’ll be lucky to even have a bounce house at this rate.” you hum out, “are you sure we can’t just take him and his friends bowling or to that new movie theater and to the park after or something?”

he opens one eye and gives you a look that tells you all you need - a simple have you met mikey said with his glance alone.

“i can try asking again.” he says with a sigh, closing the eye when you return to brushing your fingers through his hair, “but i make no promises.”

and to both of your amazements, he relents.

shinichiro is excited as he relays the conversation back to you, “he said he was fine with whatever. manjiro sano, fine with us picking something to do with his friends for his birthday!”

“so what’re we gonna do with them?” you ask with a small laugh, patting his thigh as he sort of . . . deflates at the question.

“y’know . . . i haven’t really thought about that.”

you only offer a giggle, head hitting his shoulder gently, “i might have an idea or two.”

the weekend of mikey’s party rolled around, and the boy was practically buzzing with excitement. draken and baji were already at the house helping set up, having stayed the night before, and shinichiro gave them firm instructions on what to do with what - balloons, streamers, and other miscellaneous party supplies was set out in the backyard while you and emma helped prepare the snacks you’d gotten.

one by one, other members of mikey’s group arrived - first mitsuya, who had to pry himself out of one of his little sisters arms because she wanted him to stay home and play with her so bad, then pah-chin, who holds a very big gift bag in his hands the second he’s walking past the foyer. following close behind him is kazutora, sliding out the backdoor with a laugh when baji jumps on his back and points in shinichiro’s direction to help set up tables.

wakasa walks in with benkei, bags of chips and bottles of beer in their hands that have you raising an eyebrow and reminding them that this is a party for ten year-olds, to which wakasa replies ‘you’re never too young to start drinking’. this earns him a smack from shinichiro, who’s come inside for a split second to have a break from the boys. the last to show is takeomi, a plastic bag in hand as his two siblings run past his legs to greet their friends.

takeomi looks at everyone outside, raising an eyebrow when he realizes he’s the only one in a swimsuit.

“did everyone else change already?”

“hm?” you’re wiping your hands on a dishtowel when he sets the bag on the counter, “oh, no one else needs a swimsuit.”

he tilts his head at the confession, and you gesture towards the dunking booth sitting pretty in the corner of the yard, filling with water.

his brows raise as he processes the implication, “no . . .”

you scrunch your nose, “yes . . . “

“you don’t want me to . . .”

“i actually need you to . . .”

“please.” he’s almost begging, pleading with you to have some amount of mercy on his soul.

but you can only shake your head, click your tongue, and push a towel towards him, “sorry . . .”

you’re not sorry. not in the least bit, actually, when takeomi climbs into the dunk tank with shinichiro’s help, only to be locked in soon after when your beloved boyfriend places the stepladder he used to boost takeomi into the tub in front of the door. if takeomi realizes he’s trapped, he voices no complaints, only pouting while he clambers to the seat, folding his arms over his chest while mikey makes a line with stray streamers to indicate how far back everyone needs to stand.

amazingly, none of the kids can hit the small target to the left of takeomi. being athletically inclined seemed to stop at mikey’s feet, since the baseball he was throwing would only go a meter before dropping onto the grass.

his friends follow in suit after him, taking turns, and the only one who comes close is draken, who is just excited to have thrown the ball the farthest out of the group, while emma gives him heart eyes from the sidelines.

takeomi’s taunts are light-hearted, sticking his tongue out at each child as they try and fail to knock him off his pedestal, and it’s only when shinichiro grabs the ball that his teasing falters.

“this is a kids party, no?” he gestures to mikey, who’s egging his brother on to throw the ball, “let the kids throw, this doesn’t seem very fair-”

in one fell swoop, takeomi’s dunked into the water. he comes up sputtering, wiping water from his face and tossing a glare at your boyfriend, who only laughs at his friend. he looks like an angry cat, hissing at the prospect of being drenched to the bone.

and instead of stopping there, instead of letting the kids go back to having their fun with their tosses, the other men seem to have found joy in seeing takeomi soaked and shivering despite the sun shining bright in the sky.

you go inside to prepare the cake while wakasa and benkei take their own turns tossing, each man hitting the target spot, each time dropping takeomi from his seat, leaving him to come up heaving and glaring. this goes on only for a few minutes until the kids grow bored of just watching - they want to be the ones dunking him! they want to be directly part of the chaos.

watching the three adults seemed to fill them with confidence, but . . . their tosses still fell just short of the target - even with the new amount of vigor coursing through their veins from seeing takeomi previously submerged.

takeomi relaxes at this fact, easily going back to simple teases, blowing raspberries at the kids, until baji leans into mikey’s side and whispers something into his ear. the blond’s eyes light up at the idea, and he ushers everyone else into a small huddle to relay whatever plan baji’s put in his head.

takeomi doesn’t even have time to question it before the group of ten year olds are rushing forward and slamming each of their hands on the target, effectively dropping takeomi, and retreating just before he comes out of the water with giggles leaving each of their lips.

you peek your head out the door just in time to see takeomi trying to splash water over the top of the dunk booth while the kids almost tumble to the floor in fits of laughter.

“time for cake!” you call out, before retreating back into the house to avoid being trampled by sugar-inclined kids.

takeomi, you find out, did not realize he was locked in the booth, if the way he tries to push the door open is anything to go by. you watch from the window in the kitchen as he tries again. and again. and again, just for good measure, before he’s banging on the plastic surrounding him and shouting something at your boyfriend, wakasa, and benkei, who don’t bat an eye to him and come inside to sing to the birthday boy.

bonus:

takeomi is only let out of the tank when all the cake is gone and most of the other kids have left.

he’s pruney and pouting, even though he was given one of the beers wakasa’s brought and promised leftover ice cream.

the remaining kids, emma, mikey, draken, sanzu, and senju, all lay in the living room in a heaping pile. crashed from the busy day and the sugar slowly dissipating from their veins. you lean against shinichiro on the couch, feet in his lap while he nurses a beer in the hand not holding your thigh.

“we did good.” you hum out, almost as tired as the kids from all the running around and planning and watching. mikey’s come out of this with a good amount of stuff - legos and other miscellaneous toys you’re sure you or shinichiro will be cleaning up after. some cash, too, but he wouldn’t let you count how much.

shinichiro squeezes your leg softly, giving you that dorky smile you adore with his eyes half-lidded.

“we did.”

#salmon rowe #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #sano shinichiro x reader #sano shinichiro #shinichiro sano #sano x reader #x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader

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niallsgoldhoop · 1 month

Text

sweet spot

a niall horan short story part one of six / six thousand words-ish nsfw, 18+

“I’m going to get another drink!”

I smile at my friends before turning away from the round table we’ve been sitting at, cutting my way through the crowded bar full of people dressed in various shades of green.

St. Patrick’s Day was the day to go out.

This year, for once, it fell on a Sunday which was the only day that I was off work.

Not that I was complaining— Owning my own bakery was the one and only thing that I had ever wanted and dreamed of.

So this morning when a couple of my closest friends asked if I wanted to go out with them later that night, the only obvious answer was yes.

“What can I get for you?” Looking up at me with a wide smile, the girl behind the bar mixes a couple of drinks before pushing the one in her hand right to the girl next to me.

Biting on my bottom lip, my eyes scan over the rows of liquor bottles lined up behind her. “I’ll just take an old fashioned with an extra cherry, please!”

“You got it, babe.”

Turning her back to me and pouring my drink, I lean against the dark wooden bar top to wait. While I’ve made my rounds to different pubs and bars over the years, I’d never been to Wilson’s before. It was full of sports memorabilia and vintage Guinness signs.

As my eyes take in everything around me, I realize one more thing that this bar has that none of the others have ever had.

Him.

Jesus Christ.

Even from here I can tell his eyes are light— a contrast to the dark chestnut color of his hair that curls out from the bottom of the Boston Red Sox hat perched on top of his head.

Sitting with a small group much like my own, the moment his eyes meet mine from across the distance something shifts deep inside my belly.

Heat blooms across my cheeks as I look away, focusing my vision on the baseball game playing on the television to my left, only I definitely couldn’t tell you a single thing on it.

“See something you like?”

Whipping around at the sound of a low, Irish accent, I find myself face to face with the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.

If I thought he was captivating from across the room?

That was nothing compared to standing right next to him.

Under the brim of his hat, those eyes are so blue that it takes my breath away especially when the golden ring around his pupil catches the light when his fingers grip the brim of his hat and turn it backwards.

Fuck me.

“I—Um—“ Words evade me as he looks over the features of my face, those eyes falling to my lips for the longest few seconds of my life.

Running his hand over the dark scruff lining his jaw, it does nothing to hide the smirk that pulls at the corner of his full lips. “Cat got your tongue?”

This time I realize it’s my turn to let my eyes linger where they shouldn’t as a smug smile pulls on the corner of my own lips.

“Niall.” Holding his hand out to me, goosebumps travel up my arms at the electric touch between us. “And you?”

Just as I go to answer, the drink I ordered slides in front of me, looking so refreshing that I can’t help but pick one of the cherries out and bite it between my teeth, my tongue catching the drop of cherry flavored whiskey from my bottom lip.

“Willow.”

His thoat bobs against his swallow, that thick accent rough and low as he pushes closer to me as someone slides up to the bar behind him, repeating my name back to me as if he was imagining the taste of it on his own tongue. “Willow.”

I’ve never met someone who I’ve been able to fall into a conversation with so quickly. It feels like we stand there forever, slowly drifting closer and closer to each other. The smell of his vetiver and bergamot cologne becomes more and more intoxicating as time goes on.

“So, this is your holiday?” Taking a sip of the amber liquid from my glass, I look up at him through my lashes as the last rays of the sun filter through the old stained glass windows of the bar.

His laugh is loud and full before he leans a little closer to be heard over the noise, his tone playful with something else hidden under the surface. “I guess that depends.”

“Oh yeah?” A smirk pulls at the corner of my lips when Niall reaches out, his finger boldly tracing the thin green strap over my shoulder before following the path of my collarbone. “On what?”

A final peak of the sun hits the gold hoop in his ear just before he leans forward, his soft lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Are you going to kiss me because I’m Irish?”

“I don’t know—“ Reaching forward, my middle finger tucks into the pocket of his jeans as I look up at him, my head tilting to the side. “Are you gonna kiss me if I’m not?”

Time stands still between us as Niall glances behind him, towards the table of friends he left behind, his hand dropping to my waist where the tips of his fingers slide just barely under the top of my jeans. “Maybe not on the lips— But I can think of some other places I’d like to get my mouth.”

“Here?” This time it’s my turn to look behind me, towards my friends. “I—“

“Well, I’m not opposed to that.” His voice sounds laden with honey. “I won’t lie, Willow— You are one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen.”

A blush crowds the apples of my cheeks as I push a lock of hair behind my ear. “I could say the same about you, Niall.”

“Will they miss you?” Blue eyes look over the top of my head as he looks towards my friends. “Because I know the guys at my table won’t miss me.”

Biting my bottom lip, I shake my head. “They’ll be fine.”

I wasn’t a stranger to a one night stand— in fact, I feel like that’s what I preferred.

Working the hours at the bakery mixed with helping my sister, it just worked out that way. Plus it never really bothered me to be single.

There was something about Niall that felt honest.

Deep in those sapphire eyes with their golden sunset, there was a feeling in my gut of trust.

Ever since I was younger I’d always had intuition that was rarely ever wrong, something that I held close to my heart, letting myself lean into those feelings.

“So what do you say, Willow?” That brilliant smile splits across his perfect features, a couple of small crinkles at the corner of his eyes. “Want to get out of here?”

“Are you asking me to make an Irish exit?” A laugh bubbles out from my lips as I look up to him.

With a shrug of his shoulders, that hand resting along the top of my hip slides along the rough material on my jeans before his fingers dip into the waistband, pulling my body flush with his as his lips brush across my jaw. “Is it still an Irish exit if you leave with someone who’s Irish?”

“Mm, maybe not.” My words come on an exaggerated breath— one not meant for the public to hear. “Let me just send my location to my friends and tell them I’m leaving.”

Niall nips my earlobe. “I can't stop thinking about what I’ll do when I’m alone with you.”

Pulling some cash out of my wallet and pushing it across the bar, I listen to the fire blazing through my blood as I thread my fingers through his, looking up at him with a smile.

“I can't wait to find out.”

_________

I’ve never wanted someone so bad.

The entire ride in the back of the taxi to Niall’s house was like the ultimate tease of his attention.

From the words he whispered against my skin to the way his hands rested heavy on my thigh, his pinky just teasing along the seam of my jeans.

His lips hadn’t even met mine and I already knew just how impactful it would be when they do.

God, how fucking god they’ll feel.

On my lips.

On my skin.

When his hand finds mine as he says goodbye to our driver, butterflies flood my belly as he guides me in front of him to the front door of a quaint bungalow style house complete with a blooming garden.

“Fucking finally.” My body presses into his front door as he reaches into his pocket, the sound of metal keys cutting through the crisp air. “When I saw you— Standing at that bar— All I could think about was getting you here, with me.”

One hand wraps around my waist as the other pushes the key into the lock, turning it and pushing open the heavy door. As much as I’d like to look at everything inside, that idea falls flat when Niall grips me by the hips, spinning us around and pushing my back into the door as it slams shut.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? With where this is going?” Cupping my jaw, his thumb presses under my chin to bring my gaze to his. “If we’re going to do this— Together— I want you to be vocal, okay? I want to hear you answer me and tell me what you want, what you need. Can you do that for me, Willow?”

I swallow the nerves building up, nodding my head, my tongue rolls over my body lip. “Yes— Yes, I can do that. Please, Niall—“

“Come here.”

When the space between us closes, his lips on mine, I swear to god it feels like the earth starts to spin in reverse.

Soft and supple, Niall moves his lips along with mine as if he’d been doing just that for years. I can't even contain the whimper that falls from my own lips when his tongue teases across my top lip as his hands slide under the thin top that I pulled on this morning.

Just feeling his skin against mine sends a wave of goosebumps across my body, making me arch my back to push myself even closer to his warm body, feeling the heat emanating from him.

“Fuck.” His teeth pull on my bottom lip, just enough pressure to send a jolt through my nervous system. “I could stand here and kiss you all night, Jesus Christ.”

“Mhm.” Is my only reply as my lips travel from his and across the scruff lining his jaw, down to the spot under his golden earring, pulling the skin between my teeth and soothing it with my tongue. “But then I wouldn’t get to see this.” Dropping one of my hands, I cup him through his jeans and listen to the low groan from deep in his throat. “Wouldn’t that be a shame?”

“Yeah? You want to see my cock nice and hard for you— Is that it?” Niall pulls back just enough to meet my gaze as his hands fall from under my shirt. “I’m going to ask you some questions, okay?”

“Okay.” Breathless, I feel the electricity as it buzzes underneath my skin.

“Is anything off limits for you?” Working the button of my jeans, he keeps those blue eyes on mine.

Shaking my head, I feel my heart rate skipping a beat. “No.”

“Good.” A smile plays at the corner of his lips as the unmistakable sound of his fingers pulling down the zipper fills the space around us. “Do you need a safe word just in case?”

“N—No.” I shake my head again. “I don’t.”

A small nod is the only response I get before Niall drops down in front of me, looking up at me from his knees, his fingers curling around the edge of my pants before pulling them down to reveal the skimpy lacy covering my center.

“Jesus Christ.” Strong hands drag up my thighs as his eyes go wide. “This incredible body is just for me tonight, is that right?”

Through dark lashes framing his eyes, the blue fades out as the darkness of his pupils expand. “For tonight, yeah.”

“Are you going to leave that pretty green top on? Or take it off?” The very top of his finger traces the edge of the black lace, making my thighs inadvertently rub together. “Don’t worry— I’ll take care of you.”

Gripping the edges of my shirt and pulling it off, I drop it next to where my shoes and my jeans sit in a small pile, my hand reaching out to run through Niall’s dark hair.

When the soft light from the lamp across the living room catches the silver barbells through my nipples, his eyes close as he tilts his face up to the ceiling, almost like he’s in need of his own savior.

“Willow.” My name falls off his lips on a groan, one from deep inside his chest. “God.”

With my back still against the front door, a small gasp leaves me when Niall’s lips press against my skin, small kisses dancing across my thighs and the soft nips from his teeth adding to the sensation.

“Look at you— Soaking wet.” Dragging his finger over the center of the damp fabric, I tilt my head back when he presses his fingertips to my clit. “I bet you taste sweet, so fucking sweet.”

“Maybe if you quit talking you’ll find out.” I answer.

Niall scoffs, looking up at me. “So the pretty girl from the bar has a bratty side, does she?”

Hooking his finger into the lace and pulling it to the side, I can’t help the way my lips pop open as his tongue moves through my center, the tip of his tongue swirling around my throbbing clit before pulling away.

“Niall—“

“You know, I like brats.” Pressing a soft kiss to my thigh, his nails drag down the back of my thighs before peeling the scrap of material from my body. “So by all means— Keep going.”

Before I can formulate a response, he buries his face between my legs and when he suctions his lips around my clit, it feels like all I can do is not to unravel right then and there. Burying my hands in his hair, I moan out as he goes back and forth between tracing mindless patterns across the sensitive nerve and flicking his tongue in a rhythm that doesn’t even seem humanly possible.

“So fucking sweet.” Resting his head on my lower stomach, I take a second to catch my breath before feeling his finger as he drags it through the wetness he’s created. “I bet this cunt is so tight, so warm.”

Pressing one finger inside, he only draws it back to add a second one before hooking them both forward and finding the spot that only those few and far between have been able to find.

“Niall, oh god—“ Letting go of his soft brunette waves, I let my fingers slide up my belly until they find the silver piercings on my chest, messing with them to add another level to the pleasure he’s giving me. “That feels so good, so damn good.”

“Let me.” Moving my hands out of the way, he grips my heavy breast in his hand before flicking the metal and making me cry out. “Put your hands up— Over your head.”

I do as I’m told just as he finds his home between my legs again, the sounds coming from the back of his throat making me whimper louder than I even knew was possible. Especially when he lifts my leg over his shoulder, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers as he eats me with fervor— as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in a desert for years.

“Are you going to come for me like this? Against my front door?” Nipping the sensitive nerve, I feel my walls flutter against his fingers. “How many times has someone made you come before, Willow?”

My eyes flutter closed as he sucks and licks me like never before, his fingers pressing harder inside of me. “Thr—Fuck, three.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Those words are the last ones I hear before he brings me to a pleasure I’ve never known.

“Fuck!” Letting my mouth fall open, I cry out as my orgasm crashes through my body. “Niall.“

He stands up to tower over me, cupping my jaw and letting his fingers dig into my cheeks, a silent question.

When I nod and open my mouth, he lets his saliva mixed with my release gather on his tongue before letting it fall into my waiting mouth.

“Perfect— You are literally perfect.” Crashing his lips to mine, when his hands slide down my thighs, I let him wrap them around his waist before he turns us away from the door. “I’m going to have so much fun making a mess out of you— wrecking you.”

His lips move against mine in a slower kiss than before, taking his time.

I pull back from him just enough to see the dark walls of his bedroom, the bed looking like a cloud from the fluffy sheets and the half made duvet spread across the top.

Niall sits in the edge of the bed, his hands moving across my ass at the same time he drops his lips to my neck, leaving wet kisses down until he takes one of my nipples into his mouth.

“Oh, yes.” Barely a whisper, the sensation of his warm mouth along with his tongue flicking across the metal makes me arch my back. “More.”

Releasing one and doing the same with the other, he pulls away too soon. “Get on your knees first.”

“And if I say no?” I gripping the hair at the base of his neck, I pull until he has to tilt his head back to look up at me. “If I want to be a brat?”

A low laugh falls from his lips as he stands to his full height, turning so that he can drop me down onto the bed, reaching out and grabbing a fist full of my hair just hard enough that I feel the sting in my scalp.

From my scalp all the way to the spot between my legs.

“You want to be difficult? That’s fine.” Working the button of his pants, I bite my bottom lip in anticipation. “You can be difficult with my cock down your throat, yeah?”

When he releases my hair, his hands make quick work of his pants and briefs, shoving them to the floor and kicking them off to be forgotten until later before grabbing his shirt and adding that to the pile.

Just the sight before me makes me whimper.

A perfect amount of dark hair dusts across his chest and even matches the trimmed hair that leads to the most perfect cock that I’ve ever seen.

“Go on, put your mouth on me.” Gripping himself in his left hand, Niall presses the tip of his cock to my bottom lip, using it to pull it down to release it with with a pop. “Let me see how well I fit.”

Opening my mouth, I flick my tongue along the underside of his length, looking up at him through my lashes before closing my lips around him and drawing him in.

“Holy shit.” Dropping his hand, he threads it through my hair instead. “Just like that, baby.”

The small amount of praise makes me take him deeper, letting my tongue run along the thick vein that decorates him. His hand in my hair tightens as he hits the back of my throat, a moan breaking through his lips.

“Open your throat for me, I know you can take more than that.” Niall demands.

Doing just that, I let my jaw relax and when he pushes even further, the intrusion makes my throat restrict— gagging around him and feeling tears rush to the corners of my eyes.

“Again—“

Pushing forward, this time I let him rest at the back of my throat for a couple more seconds before pulling back, using my fist to work him over as I catch my breath.

I don’t waste time before taking him back in my mouth, keeping my eyes on his as I taste the saltiness of him, wishing more than anything he would give me everything— to let me swallow everything he could give me.

“I can’t—“ Shaking his head, Niall pulls back. “You’re mouth feels too good, Will—“

The shortened version of my name makes butterflies erupt in my stomach, ones that I immediately have to tamper down at the reminder that this is what it is.

One night.

A nickname means nothing.

“You’re ruining my fun.” I say with a pout, looking up at him.

“I am?” He grins as he looks down at me, his tongue rolling across the inside of his cheek as I nod. “Fuck, then around and keep your hands where I can see them.”

Eager to please, I maneuver around the mattress until I face away from him, letting my palms run across the soft sheets until they extend in front of me while Niall drops his hands to my ass.

“Willow, were you being honest when you said nothing was off the table for you?” Smooth palms work small circles across my skin.

Turning to look over my shoulder, I catch Niall’s gaze looking at where he wants to be buried, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “I was being honest— Do your worst, Niall.”

Before I can finish my last breath, he raises his palm and brings it down across my skin making me cry out at the sting of pain.

“How’s that feel?” He asks, bending to press a kiss to the area. “ Feel good?”

“Yes, yes—“

Another sting across the opposite side, this one harder than the other as he squeezes my flesh in his hand. “Good, good girl.”

After a few more stinging strikes, I can feel my arousal as it drips between my thighs, the need for him so strong that I don’t know how to even possibly control it.

“Niall, I need more— Please, give me more.” I beg.

“Tell me now… Do you want me to get a condom?” Voice thick, his lips press to the middle of my bare back as he bends over me, letting his hands run over my breasts and toy with my nipples. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“No, no.” Shaking my head, I breathe out. “I get tested and I’m clean.”

“I am too.” Warm breath skates across my back. “I can show you the results.”

Rolling my lips together, I whimper. “Don’t make me wait— I need to feel you inside of me.”

Niall presses one last kiss to the center of my back before I feel the blunt head of his cock as he runs it through my center, coating himself in me.

If I thought he was going to say something— I was wrong.

Instead, he grips my hips in his hands and buries himself so deep inside of me that my cries seem to ricochet off the walls from feeling him filling me.

“So fucking perfect.” He says, pulling out to the very tip before slamming back into me and pulling my ass up to meet his thrusts. “My cock fits so well inside you. Can you feel how greedy this little cunt is, huh?”

“Oh— Oh my god—“ A moan slips from my lips as he punishes me for things I haven't even done, his grip no doubt leaving bruises of his fingertips behind. “Fuck, Niall. You’re so fucking deep.”

From behind me, I can hear the sound of his hips meeting my ass, each one more punishing and relentless than the last. Niall lets his hands slide from my hips to my ass, moving just right so that when I hear the spit leave his lips and land perfectly on his cock, I feel myself racing towards another climax.

“I can feel you squeezing me, are you going to give me another one of your pretty moans? Coat my cock?” Bringing his palm down against my skin, my knuckles turn white as I grip the sheets. “Who would have known you were this fucking filthy.”

“Right there, please don’t stop!” The cry from my lips leaves my mouth open as I choke around the moan that follows it. “I’m going to come again. Oh fuck, right there. Please.”

Niall buries himself with such power that my release lets go, barreling towards the finish line as my teeth bite down on the comforter as I push my face into the bed. “God, Willow— You’re squeezing my cock so fucking good, holy fuck.”

He pulls out of me only to pull me to the edge of the bed and roll me over, sinking himself back inside of me, making my back arch off the bed while my hands reach for anything to hold onto.

“I could spend days buried inside of you and not get enough.” Meeting my gaze, Niall slows his thrust as he rolls his hips, grinding the base of his cock against my clit. “A night isn’t enough. Play with those pretty piercings for me, Will, please.”

Using both of my hands, I pinch and play with the sensitive peaks, giving the attention that I love and loving the way his eyes feel as they travel from my eyes all the way down my body to watch where he sinks inside of me.

“Harder, I need it harder—“ I say, biting my bottom lip.

Niall leans over the bed, his hand wrapping around the base of my throat, squeezing just enough to restrict my airway. “You want to be fucked like a slut? Is that what I’m hearing?”

Only able to nod, my voice catches in my throat as he picks up his pace and thrust into me so hard that my back slides up the sheets of the bed. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah?” Sweat drips down the side of his neck as he hovers over me, those blue eyes flaring with unbridled lust. “How’s that?”

“So good.” I moan, my nails scratching down his chest and over the muscles of his stomach. “I feel, god. Your cock feels so good.”

“I’ve never been buried inside someone that feels like this.” He moans, tilting his head up to the ceiling. “Strangling my fucking cock. and trying to kill my for everything I have.”

Dragging his hands away from my neck, his hand splays wide across my chest as he pushes me into the mattress. “Come on baby, I can feel you ready to soak me again— Give it to me, let me have it.”

“No. I want—“

Niall groans as he brings his thumb to my mouth, pushing it in deep enough that I gag before he drops it to my clit, working circles around the nerve as I cry out his name so loud that if he had neighbors close enough they’d never have to wonder what his name is.

“Stop being difficult, fuck.” Thrusting into me, he drops his head to mine and pulls my bottom lip between his teeth. “Come around me, now.”

Giving over the control of my body, Niall fucks me as I release around him again, coating his cock and soaking the sheets as he drops his head to my neck, sucking the skin between his teeth.

“There you go, look how perfect you are when you listen.” Low and rough, his voice is like gravel. “Such a fucking good girl for me, Willow.”

I nod, feeling empty as he pulls out of me and grips my knees, pushing them apart to look down at my weeping cunt, the mess he created.

“Fuck.”

Dropping down, he wastes no time before taking my clit into his mouth, the suction so hard that it sends me spiraling into another orgasm and coating his tongue with my release, making me squirm on the sheets.

“Niall, I— I can’t, my god—“

“Get up, let me see you dripping for me.” Niall runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “I’m not done with you.”

“I—“

“Now.” His palm cracks across the side of my breast, making my breath ragged as he fists his cock, taking a step back from the bed and reaching for my ankle to drag me to the edge. “Stand up and bend over. Take my cock like the good girl you are.”

I scramble to stand up, my legs already feeling weak as he grips my hips and turns us to face the dresser along his wall, the oversized mirror hanging above it.

“You’re going to watch me fuck you in this mirror— Watch as I fill this cunt to the brink with me, do you understand me?” Wrapping my hair around his fist once, twice— he tugs on it when I don’t answer. “Fucking answer me, you slut.”

Nodding, I rest my elbows along the top of the dresser. “Give it to me, please.”

“There’s that nice girl I met at the bar.” He smiles at me. “You are so perfect, so beautiful.”

Slower than anything else we’ve done tonight, Niall pushes inside of me; it feels like every single ridge and vein touches the right spot inside of me, filling me up so full that it brings tears to my eyes.

“You gonna cry over this cock?” Pushing harder, Niall places his hands on the outside of my arms flat on top of the dresser, the heat between our bodies an inferno as his sweat slicked skin moves across mine. “Cry over how fucking good we fit— Cry over how well you’re taking me— Taking me so deep?”

Shaking my head, I find his eyes in the mirror. “I can’t—“

“You can.” Niall presses forward, my legs shaking as he reaches around to bring his fingers to my clit and working the sensitive nerve into tight circles. “You can take it, and you fucking will.”

“Niall—“

“You’re going to come all over me again and then l’m going to fill this perfect pussy so full that you’ll be dripping down your thighs for me.” For the first time, his voice falters as I feel his thrusts foster for just a second. “Then maybe I’ll be done with you.”

Pushing up onto the tips of my toes, the new angle causes me to cry out, my hands sliding along the wood and pushing a stack of shirts to the floor at the same time that Niall’s scream blends with mine as he empties himself so deep inside of me that it feels like I can’t breath.

Fucking me through both of our orgasms, I feel the tears as they stream down my cheeks at the same time I gasp for air to fill my lungs.

“Fuck, Willow— Fuck—“ Niall grips my hips as he slowly pulls out of me, his eyes trained between my legs. “Look at that.”

Dropping to his knees, I let my head fall onto my arm. “God.”

“I made such a mess of you.” Using his thumbs, he pulls me apart to watch as his release runs down the inside of my thighs. “I’ve never seen someone look so good coated in me, dripping my come.”

“Niall.” The words from my lips are hoarse as he stands up, wrapping his arms around me and pulling my spent body into his. “I’m so— so tired.”

“You did so good, baby.” Pressing a kiss to my temple, I let myself sink into his arms knowing that it’s a chance I won’t get again. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

Carrying me to the bathroom, I don’t protest when he starts a bath and helps me climb inside, the warm water soothing me into a post sex state that I have never experienced before.

As he runs his hands over my body with a lavender body wash, I let my head rest against his chest from where he sits behind me, listening to him as he keeps telling me how good I was.

How good I am.

“You know, you could stay here.” Pressing a kiss to my shoulder, I close my eyes at his words. “Spend the night.”

Shaking my head, I turn to look at him. “This was a one night thing, we know that.”

“Exactly.” Pressing a lingering kiss to my lips, he runs the tip of his nose down the length of mine. “You staying the night is still just one night.”

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I find myself nodding.

Which is exactly how I find myself curled into his side after a change of the sheets, an oversized Harley Davidson shirt pushed up over my stomach as Niall’s warm palm keeps me pulled into him as his warm and steady breath tickles the hair at the back of my neck.

I let myself relish in his warmth for thirty more minutes before I slip out from the sheets, taking one last look at him before making it to the living room and pulling on my jeans before calling a taxi.

Slipping away from the best sex I ever had and leaving without a note is hard, but it has to be done.

Niall and I were meant for one night and nothing more.

However, when I climb into my own bed still wrapped in that white shirt, I find myself wishing for the first time in a king that there was a potential for more.

That we would be more.

That Niall would want to be more.

With me.

—————

AHHHHH!!!!!

i’m so excited about this story and putting it out here for everyone to read!!! the second part is coming soon and i hope you like this!

-a🍀

#niall #niall horan #niall james horan #one d #cute niall #niall 1d #niall imagine #niall the show #niall fanfic #one direction #short story #niall horan smut #niallhoran #niall flicker #niall smut #solo niall #writers on tumblr #wattpad

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discluded · 1 year

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I just realized that the porsche in the book was probably like kinn’s type? Cos they initially imagined a korean actor to play it right.. so apo being called to cast is really sus lol

I have never read KPTN and according to people who have, it's better for my brain that I haven't 😂

According to Reliable Sources, apparently Porsche wasn't Kinn's Type™ because Kinn's type is pretty and novel!Porsche wasn't pretty. But Apo is very pretty so obviously that wouldn't work 😁

Okay since I have a minute now:

KinnPorsche Casting: The Lore

First posting (one version) of the casting story for everyone to set the stage. Thanks to @lorddio for helping me find this one again and MileApo Safe Place for translating as always. it's got a very special part that needs highlight 😉

But setting the record straight(ha!) about the basics:

Mile was Kinn's face model, and purportedly many elements of Kinn were based off of Mile's public image (very importantly: wealthy heir to an important Thai family)

In the variations of posts about Mile is Kinn lore I've seen, this was the specific photo that inspired Daemi's Kinn. He reposted it around the same time his casting for KPTS was announced (this was reposted Dec 2020) but if I remember correctly from scrolling back in his feed, it was taken when he was 24-25 years old.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by MP 15.15 (@milephakphum)

instagram

As anon mentioned, and Apo mentioned in the clip above, Daemi chose a Korean actor as the face cast for Porsche.

However, he was contacted and specifically invited to audition for the role of Porsche. According to Apo, he didn't even read for any other characters

Those are the basic public facts we can agree on. But of course there's more going on behind the scenes! There's actually a lot going on here so I'm going to break it down for each actor, starting with Mile because that might set the ground for some of what happened with Apo.

Admittedly some of this is my opinion or interpretation, so take it with a grain of salt and use your own judgment! Again, the above facts are what is probably known and agreed upon.

Casting dates (a clarification)

First of all, there's a couple of confusing things going on with the dates, which I actually didn't highlight in the last post about it, but was exposed by the Facebook posts.

The first Facebook post dated October 1, 2020 talks about how the audition process has started and the first round will go on to October 3. The second post is from October 4 and then lists the dates of the auditions for October 10.

Now, October 10, the "official" audition date is (1) The day Mile and Apo were both fast tracked through auditions and (2) met again. I don't think anyone on the English side of fandom has noticed this or at least publicly talked about this discrepancy so I'm bringing you hot news (that I've been sitting on and not sharing lol)

youtube

It is worth pointing out that this is supposedly the photo below is of their first kiss from the auditions, and they're both wearing different clothes, so. I'm guessing the fast tracking was actually for the first round of auditions between Oct 1-3, and then the kiss was Oct 10.

Anyway, they sat next to each other and Apo talked to Mile first, regardless of if it was the same day (likely not, in my opinion)

There's also a couple of different photos of them together at audition.

Notably, in the first they're sat in uh, waiting area chairs. There's a different clip of Apo sitting behind Bible, so I'm guessing this is before Apo talked to Mile and he had noticed Mile while sitting in this area and went to talk to him.

The moved together down the line to the audition room, I think?

where Sprite interviewed them:

youtube

Also based on this last photo they switched sitting order at some point while waiting to audition

Mile's casting

So aside from the fact Mile visibly went to auditions, there is a rumor with some basis that Mile was pre-cast as Kinn. Probably soft confirmed by Mile himself.

I'm just going to close the loop on this discrepancy too: I think Mile was an invited audition/casting in the same way Ke Huy Quan was invited to audition for for Waymond Wang. Mile did audition. He was likely get the role because he was so preferentially invited by the authors and was the basis for the character.

Clearly, Ke Huy Quan won an Oscar and Mile won a GQ breakout actor award, so in invited casting, even for seemingly "unimportant" roles, it doesn't speak to an actor deserving or not deserving the role based on of acting skills. Mile also was cast as the main character Bohn in My Engineer in 2017 before turning it down; he clearly has some acting chops and can win lead roles.

In academia, often times internal postings will open for tenure track positions with a preferred candidate in mind; but due to rules these postings are made public and sometimes an outside candidate will blow the preferred candidate out of the water in terms of quality and get hired instead.

Which is to say there could have been another actor that ended up impressing more in auditions as Kinn even with Mile being preferred, or another actor pair that seemed more suited for Kinn and Porsche.

The other thing auditions do is allow for actors to screen test chemistry. So finally, Mile actually going through the casting process allows him to screen test a for a pairing partner. Which brings us to...

Pre-cast Preferred casting rumor credibility: 10/10

Apo's Casting

Play Mastermind.mp3 by Taylor Swift

Once Twice upon a time, the planets and the fates And all the stars aligned You and I ended up in the same room At the same time

Okay if you didn't catch it on the first watch...

Mile, what the heck is that expression. 😂😂😂

Again, Apo was invited to go to casting specifically for Porsche and only for Porsche. Apo has never acted in a BL before going to audition for KPTS, so the question begged who invited him and why?

First of all, Mile has made it clear that he was a fan of Apo's acting work and followed his career after they met in the gym. He's also made it clear he had the world's biggest crush on Apo. Look how excited he was to talk about working with Apo and how handsome he thinks Apo is in January 2021 (like 3 months after they met again!)

If Mile was the preferential Kinn cast and he didn't have an pairing partner, it would make sense to ask him if there were any actors he thought he might work well with.

I'm not entirely convinced Mile engineered for Apo to get cast or anything. Apo's acting career and skills stand on their own and I think their insane screen chemistry speaks volumes about why they were cast. But as for who made the request to Apo's manager ... hm 😏 Maybe we'll find out one day.

Mile Phakphum - Mastermind.mp3 rumor credibility: 6/10

#mile phakphum #apo nattawin #mileapo #kinnporsche #kpts #kinnporsche lore #kinnporsche bts #kinnporsche meta #filmania #old but gold

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knightofthesevenfandoms · 9 months

Note

Now that you've watched s2, I'm very curious to hear your opinion about it as an honourable IB shipper

My feelings are very mixed, while their flashbacks were pretty cute, the "confession" scene felt TERRIBLE to me. Why would these two old bureaucrats sing a cheesy song at each other in front of their respective courts 😭 Why were they speaking like 13 year olds. The ending just ruined the relationship becoming canon :(

Really long answer incoming lol.

Okay so. Essentially, yes. It was jarring/cringe because it was so VASTLY different than the vibe of their relationship that I had built in my head the last four years. I've always thought of them quite a bit more mature, sometimes combative, and really fucking kinky. But I wouldn't say it ruined it for me, and I'll explain why.

Initially it seemed SO out of character, the lovey-dovey, almost childlike affection they had for each other. But it's exciting for me to consider what if this WAS in their characters all along, they were just never given the opportunity/felt safe enough to let that side of their personalities be seen. Which is HEARTBREAKING but there's some subtle evidence to back this up.

We all know Bee is an angry, annoyed, high ranking demon with a lot on their plate. Even Crowley said "because they're always such a ray of sunshine" to Shax because it seems common knowledge to all of Hell that Bee is, well... an angry little shit. But they ARE a ray of sunshine when they're with Gabe, away from hell, away from their daily stresses, away from the expectations of running Hell. LOOK AT THEM.

We saw a hint of this in S1, when they showed a moment of vulnerability. When? In front of Gabe, at the airbase. They can't show weakness in Hell because they can't weaken their position as Prince (Grand Duke?), but Gabriel is the only other being in the entire cosmos they feel is an equal, and they can therefore let their guard down like they did at the airbase, and like they do a little bit more at every meeting with Gabe following Armageddon. Until they were actually showing the real Bee- who is a little unsure, kind of quiet, and a worrier. I always headcanoned that Bee absolutely WAS soft, underneath all their posturing, but only ever in private and only ever with Gabe. AND THEN I WAS GIVEN THAT HOLY SHIT.

Okay now on to Gabe. I always headcanoned that after Armageddon, he fucking broke. He snapped. He was SO TIRED of working toward goals, leading the host of Heaven toward said goals, and then the biggest one of all ended up a failure and essentially it fell on his shoulders. And that's basically what did happen in canon! It started, just like it did for Bee, at the airbase, when it was all falling apart, he turned to the only being he could that would understand his frustration.

He was always the hard-ass boss, albeit an idiot and a dick, but the memory wipe proved there was a sweetheart in there somewhere. Before the season aired, I assumed the memory wipe was what would show Gabe the error of his ways, and he would learn to be gentle and generous and loving through that trial. But it turns out HE ALREADY LEARNED IT BY THE TIME OF THE MEMORY WIPE.

Heaven seems so cold and lonely, and my god the scene where he says no one had ever given him anything. My heart ached for him. Heaven didn't even give him a desk. MURIEL, a 37th order, was given a desk but he wasn't. Away from the cold sterility of Heaven and his obligations, he heard Bee say they liked something, and he realized how happy their enjoyment made him. So he decided he liked it too. He never got to enjoy things (other than clothes), or his time around others, and Bee provided him that escape, simply by saying "I like this song." And then he miracled the song to play because he wanted to make someone, other than himself, happy. And he was ready to swan dive into Hell, give up the clothes he loved, because he knew he'd be okay, he and Bee would be okay if they were together.

Yes, their relationship is way different than I pictured it would be. But I'm framing it instead of being ooc, maybe we weren't seeing the real Gabe and Bee in S1. We were just seeing them as the result of their respective situations.

And the confession, to me, was used as a juxtaposition for the husbands confession, which uh. Did not go nearly as well.

So yeah, the singing to each other and their soft, innocent affection was cringe. But Bureaucracy has always been cringe, Bee is a gremlin and Gabe is an idiot. I'm looking forward to exploring their new dynamic in fic, and maybe filling some of the gaps that took them from where they were to where they are now.

#good omens #beelzebub #ineffable bureaucracy #gabriel #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers

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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months

Note

This is my third time in your inbox, I'm so sorry 💀💀

Can we get more insight on Konigs childhood? You mentioned abuse from his father. What exactly did he do to Konig and his mother? Why did he cut his face up? Why did his mother not leave him? Where are his parents now? Was his childhood the reason he joined the military? Will he fully open up to the reader abt it?

Ty for tolerating me 😭🙏🏾

Please. My inbox is always, always open and I love these questions! (Like... someone wants to hear my ramblings about mentally unstable, fictional men?? You are godsend, my friend 💖)

Thoughts on König's childhood:

CW/TW: emotional, verbal & physical abuse, talk of personality disorders (by someone who is not a psychologist lmao), aggravated assault/murder, self-hate

So, I wrote König as a sociopath (otherwise known as antisocial personality disorder) with borderline pd. He's also neurodivergent (prob. ADHD). Now I don't know shit about these things but I tried my best to do some research on different pds and neurodiversity and thought this potpourri might fit well in König's character profile.

Unlike psychopaths, sociopaths are made, not born. So his dad had a definite hand in creating one out of König. He thought his only son (K is an only child in my canon) was a freak because he was bigger than "normal" kids, tall and lithe and on top of everything else, behaved oddly. König was bullied at school which made him even more asocial and anxious, which in turn made his dad project his own insecurities onto König even more. He needed to imprint it on König that he's a freak by cutting him.

There was a strict routine and order in his childhood home: dinner was to be served at 6'o clock sharp, every piece of clothing had to be pedantically ironed, no tv past seven, etc. Any misstep on these rules and there would be violence, mainly verbal and emotional but at times, physical too. König's mother was never enough, nothing she did was ever enough. König for sure did everything wrong by simply existing. For a boy of his size, he learned to become surprisingly invisible at a very young age.

Sometime during his teenage years, he started to have enough. He started to rebel, learned how to walk tall and straight, started to jog and train inside his room, do 100 pushups every morning. The idea of joining the army was born during these times as well, and becoming a sniper was soon König's biggest dream.

He enjoyed when his schoolmates, even some of the teachers, began to fear him (if you cannot be loved, better be feared than ridiculed). He was the odd, silent, big freak who was only getting odder, bigger and more silent every day. People at school literally feared the day König would arrive at class with a gun.

His father started to cut him even more when he began to show signs of independence and grit. At some point König realized he could easily beat his own dad if he wanted to. At 15 he started to go to the gym, and a year after, when he saw his father yell at his mom about something utterly insignificant, he finally snapped, took a simple kitchen knife and drove it to daddy's ribs (16 times).

His mother had a tiny mental breakdown after that. She didn't want her child to get into trouble, but seeing such a violent murder was the last straw for a woman who had tried to keep the peace by playing by this crazy tyrant's rules. The reason she hadn't left was because she feared he might kill them both. (Also the breakdown was far more severe than the one reader had after the break room incident, and it def. brought back some not so fond memories)

König got the minimum penalty for the crime because he was a juvenile offender. His mother forgave her child quite soon and deemed that her husband was evil and that König did the right thing for freeing them from such a man.

Things got better after that, but his mother was forever damaged from everything that had happened. She began to blame herself for not divorcing her husband sooner, for then he would still be alive and König wouldn't have suffered so much in his hands. One of the reasons König started to wear the hood was because he didn't want to remind his mother of what had been done to him. Instead, the mask only caused her only more pain. She started to avoid her own child, even fear him, feeding into König's insecurities and anxiety even more.

When König finally joined the army at the age of 17, it was to get away from home and pursue his dreams to become a sniper. He thought it might be best for his mother, too, if he wasn't around the house to remind her what had gone down and how her only child was not only a monster, but a murderer, too.

König's childhood is so filled with trauma that he has pretty much distanced himself from it. The geographical distance helps too, and he's not keen on taking reader on a vacation to Austria, for example. But he will open up about his past if and when he sees it's safe to do so. Sadly enough, the thing that bugs him the most about it is he fears he might look weak in reader's eyes. He's been in a survival mode for so long that he doesn't quite understand that he was a child at the time, and should've received love and care.

Btw I totally got inspired by @random-thot-generator 's gospel truth on how König's first kill was his own father! Also the Conan t-shirt as his (first) mask is my canon now

#answered #könig headcanons #just friends fic #yandere könig

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musings-of-a-rose · 1 year

Text

Mistake

Pairing: Frankie Morales/Santi Garcia x f!reader

Word Count: 3000+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: Angst galore. Thanks to @vanemando15 for being a beta and @mermaidxatxheart for bouncing ideas around!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

Santiago Garcia Masterlist

It's bright. Why is it so bright in here? Blinking my eyes open, I'm met with the light streaming in through the curtains, shining across my face.

And then the headache slams into me.

Groaning, I grab my head, my fingers kneading into my temples, willing the pain to go away without having to move. I drank way too much last night and I'm certainly paying for it now. Nausea starts to set in, churning my stomach slightly as if it's preparing me for a lengthy bathroom session later. It's when I reach for my stomach that I realize I'm not wearing any clothes. A peek under the covers reveals that I'm completely naked. Well, at least I got comfortable before bed?

I play the events of last night in my head. Having the same best friends as your fiancé has its perks, but when they're all former soldiers, you definitely have to work to keep up with their drinking, especially with us being in Vegas. Our Bachelor and Bachelorette parties were combined, all of us simply hanging out in each other's rooms and basically drinking, playing the occasional game. I vaguely remember Santi telling me, somewhere between my 6th and 9th drink, that this was why he added a day between the party and our actual wedding. He knew we'd need to recover and he was right.

If you had told me 5 years ago that I would be engaged to Santiago Garcia, I would have laughed in your face. Not that he's a terrible person, but he's not the kind of guy I usually fall for. He's impulsive, hard headed, and a giant flirt, which is why it took me so long to realize he was serious when he asked me out. I'm honestly surprised I'd said yes, considering the amount of women I'd seen run through his home, some of them throwing things at him as they left.

I remember the first time I saw that happen. Frankie chuckled and shook his head, saying that's just how Santi is. Frankie is the one of the group I'd bonded to the fastest, quickly becoming best friends and remaining so, despite my desire to be more. But life had other plans, giving Frankie a baby from a girl he barely knew. And though they gave it their best shot, it didn't end well.

But then Santi swooped in and somehow, we fell for each other. And now we're getting married, which is something I never thought he'd agree to.

I roll onto my side, headache following me and I see a toned, tanned arm sticking out from the between the sheets. I reach out, my fingers brushing his skin as I smile, a handful of flashes of the night before dancing in my head. Santi is an amazing lover, always responding to my every need and desire with fervor. Something feels different about the memories, though I can't quite put my finger on it.

Rolling to my other side, I groan, swallowing down the churning feeling in my stomach. Soft skin, and that same arm wraps around me, calloused fingers gently rubbing my stomach, a sleepy attempt to help quell my quesiness.

"Santi."

I feel Santi scoot up behind me, his body molding to mine as he pushes his nose to the side of my neck, nuzzling into it.

His hand skates sleepily down my body, gently rubbing circles between my thighs in an effort to make me feel better. My pulse quickens, my breaths coming quicker as he continues to work me open. A nip to my shoulder sends warmth between my legs and my breath hitches. I bring my hand up, reaching behind Santi's head to grip his curls. Except, I'm not met with the tight, short curls of my fiance. These ones are longer, softer, more flipping out before becoming actual curls. My brain is rapidly waking, pushing past the hangover to process what was happening, who was happening. A small moan from him and my brain finally clicks it all into place.

Frankie.

I grab his hand and toss it from me, yanking my body forward to create as much space as I can considering I'm pinned under the sheets. He protests, his hands still reaching for me.

"Frankie?" I question, hoping to anything that I was wrong.

"Mmm?"

Shit.

"FRANKIE." I'm more firm, scrambling to disentangle myself from the sheets that now feel like a prison.

"Come back to bed. You weren't finish-"

"Frankie."

His body stills as my voice finally seems to permeate his sleepy, hungover state. He sits up quickly, hand flying to his head as he blinks, swearing under his breath as his head pounds. He whispers my name and I can hear the desperation behind it, hope that he's hearing things and didn't sleep with his best friend's fiancé.

"It's me."

His large hands run down his face, rubbing at his eyes before he finally looks at me, regret pouring out from behind his deep brown eyes.

"I- what..did we…" He stutters, already knowing the answer to the questions he's trying to ask.

"I..I think so." Tears well up in my eyes, my voice cracking as the weight of what had most likely transpired comes crashing down on me.

On us.

"Shit….SHIT!" Frankie yells, slamming his fist down on the bed. "What the fuck happened?"

I clutch the sheet, holding it up to my neck as the tears start to fall. "All I remember is drinking way too much and I think you offered to take me back to the room? Santi… I don't know what happened to him. But Frankie, what..what do we do?"

"I don't fucking know, do I? Shit, this is bad. I mean not that I haven't thought about… but that's not the point…wait. Are we sure we even really…"

"You had half your hand inside me just a few minutes ago, Frankie. Safe to assume we did."

Frankie is silent a moment. "Unless you thought I was Santi?"

"Does it even matter?"

An uncomfortable silence falls between us, so much left unsaid whether from fear or self preservation, I don't know.

"Don't look."

Frankie glances over at me. "Why not?"

"I'm getting out of the sheets. Turn around."

"Haven't I seen it all?"

"Do you remember?"

"Fair point." Frankie turns his head and shifts his body away from me, attempting to give me some semblance of dignity. Whatever is left of that anyway.

I extricate myself from the sheets, reaching down to grab my clothes off the floor. Which is when I see a certificate on the table. Pulling my dress over my head, I walk to the table, picking up the paper and scanning it, my eyes growing wider with every word.

"Fuck…fuck!"

"Did I mess up your clothes?" Frankie asks.

I wish that was our problem.

Grabbing the paper, I walk around the bed and stand in front of him, shoving the paper towards him. Frankie blinks up at me and takes the paper, slowly turning it around to read it. His eyes grow wide and he stands abruptly, nearly knocking me on my ass.

"WE GOT MARRIED??"

"I don't remember!"

"Fucking hell, I… I don't remember either!" His eyes scan the paper again, looking for the butt of a joke and finding none.

"May…maybe we can get it annulled?" I offer up.

"Could we?"

I shrug. "They did on Friends."

He glances back down at the paper. "That's only half our problem."

"I'm supposed to get married tomorrow, Frankie. What the fuck am I supposed to say to Santi?"

He looks at me, regret oozing from him. "I don't fucking know, do I? I can't remember anything to even tell him, aside from waking up with a major hangover and my hand shoved between his finance's legs."

He stands angrily and I back up a few steps to give him space. But he misinterprets my reaction and his eyes narrow.

"Do you think I'd hurt you?"

"What? No, I was giving you space."

He steps towards me and I step backwards, my own back bumping into the hotel wall.

"I'd never hurt you. I've only ever wanted to love you and be with you but not…not like this."

"Like this?"

He gestures around. "Whatever the fuck happened." He takes a step towards me again and my breath catches in my throat. I'd given up on Frankie a while ago, trying to give him the space he would need for his daughter and his doomed relationship with her mother.

His hand comes up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers linger there, thumb rubbing into my cheek as his eyes find mine.

"I don't want you to marry Santi." It's whispered, but he may as well have yelled his confession.

"I..what are you saying?"

His finger traces my cheek as I hold my breath, my eyes locked onto his as I wait.

"I love-"

Knock, knock!

I jump, swatting his hand aside as I walk to the door, smoothing out my dress before I look in the peephole.

Santi.

"Querida, you in there?"

I glance back at Frankie who is still standing where I left him, pants pulled on but still shirtless. He crosses his arms, biceps pulling with the effort and he nods once.

Taking a deep breath, I crack open the door and see Santi standing there, smiling when his eyes meet mine.

"Querida you're alive!" He chuckles and takes a step forward. When I don't open the door wider, he stops, eyebrows coming together.

"Is everything ok?"

Tears fall, tracing wet paths down my cheeks. But before I can speak, Santi steps forward and reaches out, wiping them from my cheeks.

"Querida, what's wrong? What happened?" He's not joking around - he knows this isn't the time. His eyes take in my face, raking down what's visible of my body to check for any injuries.

Suddenly, I can't talk. "I…I…"

Santi's voice lowers, nearly to a whisper. "Blink twice if there's someone in the room that will hurt you."

Determined not to blink, I stare back at him. His shoulders relax after several seconds and he lets out a breath of relief.

"Querida-"

"I love you, Santi."

"I love you too, but what-"

I pull open the door the rest of the way, inviting him in. His eyes are on me as he steps in and I gently close the door behind him.

"Querida, what-"

Frankie had shuffled his feet and Santi turns around, immediately on alert for trouble. He relaxes when he sees Frankie, not taking in the situation.

"Hey, Cat. You're alive too I see?"

Frankie glances at me. "I survived the night."

Santi laughs. "Surprising. You had so much to drink. I'm nursing a mad hangover so I know you have…to…be…" Santi's speech slows, his brain making the connection between my tears and Frankie being shirtless in my room, the sheets all mussed up. Santi's eyes snap back to Frankie's after looking at the bed.

"Oh, what the fuck man?" I can hear him holding back his anger, hoping that he's misreading the situation.

When Frankie doesn't reply, the hope disappears from Santi's eyes, replaced by a hurt that pierces me straight through.

"You were supposed to get her back safe!" Santi yells, stepping closer to Frankie.

"I did! She's here isn't she?"

"She's here and fucked by you! I knew I shouldn't have trusted you with her. I fucking knew but I thought you were over that little crush you had-"

Frankie moves away from the wall and steps towards Santi, finger pointing at him angrily. "It was never a little crush and you fucking know that. And you went after her anyway!"

"You went and got some girl pregnant! It's not my fault you weren't there."

"But you made damn sure you were there after!"

"Someone had to take care of her!"

Frankie steps closer, glaring down at his friend. "You fucking took her from me!"

"You fucked my fiancé!"

They were in each other's faces now, just a step away from each other.

"You never cared for her! Only wanted her after I said I loved her!"

Santi's eyes flash red, his entire body shaking. I've never seen either of them this mad before.

"I fucking love her, Frankie!"

"Love her so much that you sent her back to a hotel room with the guy who she's been in love with for years and who loves her back?"

WHAM!

Santi's fist collides with the side of Frankie's face, sending his head flying to the side, Frankie stumbling from the force of it. Santi takes advantage of Frankie's momentary distraction and lunges at him, fists flying and hitting their targets. Frankie rallies quickly, throwing his own punches, shoving Santi back, his head hitting the carpeted floor as Frankie climbs on top of him, fist raised and ready to slam into Santi.

"STOP!" I yell, but he doesn't hear me. I lunge for him, shoving Frankie sideways off Santi onto the floor. He shakes his head and looks at me, anger flashing in his eyes.

I turn back to Santi who was trying to sit up, blood gushing out of his nose and his right eye swelling quickly. I reach out to touch his face and he flinches, swatting my hand away.

"Don't touch me." It's quiet, but his words echo around my head.

"Santi, I-"

"Let me guess. You're sorry?"

"I am, but -"

"No buts. You slept with Frankie. My best friend."

"I didn't know-"

"Do you have any idea how much you're killing me?" His eyes are watering and not from punches. "I never thought I'd stay with anyone and then…there you were."

"I-"

"You pulled me from a dark space. One I never thought I'd be pulled out of. I fucking loved you, querida." Tears fall from his eyes now and my vision blurs with my own as I watch him.

"And now you've fucked my best friend. My best friend! You just-"

"She didn't know." Frankie hasn't moved from where I had shoved him to the ground, aside from sitting upright.

Santi looks at Frankie with digust. "Didn't know? Did she just fall naked into the bed then? Just an oops?"

"It's my fault."

"You wanna elaborate on that?"

Frankie takes a deep breath, his eyes heavy and weary as he glances at me before looking at Santi. "We were both drunk. Her more than me. I really only remember getting her up here, making sure she took off her shoes. I told her to change her clothes because she had throw up on them. The next thing I know, she's yelling at me to get up, shoving me away from her."

"That doesn't-"

"She kept calling me Santi."

Frankie looks at me, hurt in his eyes. "She thought I was you right up until she was fully awake."

"I thought you said you don't remember-"

"I'm getting flashes. She called me Santi."

"How is it your fault?" Santi asks. "It's not like you just let her-"

"I didn't stop her. She called me Santi and I didn't stop her. I should have…but I didn't."

He moves too fast for me, olive skin bunched into a fist collides with Frankie's face, sending him flying backwards.

"Fuck you, Frankie." Santi struggles to his feet, his hand coming up to dab at his bleeding nose. I stand with him, hands moving to his face to inspect his injuries. He flinches at my touch, but his eyes find mine and I break.

"I'm sorry." It's not enough but all I can choke out.

His hands grip my wrists, bringing them away from his face.

"I love you, querida. But I…I can't." He cries, tears falling silently as his heart breaks from the pain I put there. "I can't do this. I can't even look at Frankie, and you? You're the last person I thought would ever hurt me."

"Santi-"

He drops my wrists and heads towards the door, pausing at the table where the marriage certificate between Frankie and I lays. He stares at it for several long moments before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wedding band, my wedding band, and sets it on the certificate. He doesn't say a word and he doesn't look back as he leaves the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

The room is oppressive with its silence, despite not being alone in it. I feel like I'm suffocating, dying, like a part of me went with Santi and I knew I'd never see it again.

"I'm sorry." Frankie quietly breaks the silence.

"You're sorry?" I turn to face him. I know I am not innocent but what he just revealed makes me sick. "You knew I was calling out for Santi and you didn't stop me?"

"I-"

I wanna throw up, scream, throw things, something, anything to get away, crawl out of my own body.

"I trusted you."

"I…lied."

"What?"

"I guess I didn't realize how much you actually love him. And how he loves you. And I wanted to give you a shot so I lied."

I take a step closer, anger radiating out from me. "Lied about what exactly?'

Frankie takes a deep breath. "You never called out his name. Not until this morning before we both were….aware."

"Then-"

"You called out my name. And I just…I couldn't resist. I'm so sorry. I'm a weak person I know. I was drunk and in love and…" He gestures randomly.

"Get out."

"What?"

"Get out of my room."

I don't have to repeat myself. Frankie gets up off the floor, grabbing his shirt on the way out. He doesn't say anything but pauses to look back, regret and pain in his eyes.

I don't blame Frankie. The more the day wears on the more I start to remember. I definitely started it, thinking it was Santi. When I realized it wasn't, I didn't stop. Just switched to the right name, my long love for Frankie winning out over drunk logic.

And now I get to go back to an empty home, all because of someone's love for me that was not my fiance.

>>Mistake Part 2>>

-------

General Taglist:

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the-obnoxious-sibling · 4 months

Text

in which lunch is had, old stories are told, and a misunderstanding is cleared up.

part five of the post-marineford portion of the near miss fics! (1, 2, 3, 4) if you have no idea what i'm talking about but would like to read a shanks/buggy story about kissing in disguise and then having to deal with the emotional fallout of doing that, click on this link, that's the tag for the whole thing in chronological order. (plus some complaining about writing, one inspirational improvised musical number, and a snippet of shanks pov) if you do know what i'm talking about: my intense examination of the cover to chapter 581 and frustrated googling of phrases like “oden cart curtain name” has finally paid off! also, i’d apologize for where this part ends, but that would be an enormous lie, i’ve been planning on ending this part on that line from the very beginning. >:3c enjoy!

With heavier topics taken off the table, the flow of conversation became smooth and easy. Shanks asked about Buggy’s crew, his recent travels, his plans for the future; Buggy asked about the best places Shanks had been, who he’d met. At Buggy’s request, Shanks devoted a full twenty minutes to a detailed description of his meeting with Rayleigh; to Buggy’s delight, it turned out Rayleigh was in Sabaody because Shakuyaku, the former Amazon empress, lived there. Buggy had always been impressed by her, if a little privately judgy of her taste in men, so hearing that the two of them had semi-retired together made him smile.

As did the revelation that Shanks had first seen a wanted poster for Buggy the Clown—his earliest one, actually, before he’d perfected the crossbones and had still been experimenting with lip tints—when Rayleigh pulled a copy out that day. “He keeps an eye on all the newspapers, from the four big seas and the Grand Line alike,” Shanks explained, digging his toes into the sand. (Buggy had gotten tired of his push-pull relationship with the tides and insisted they move further up the beach.) “I think he’s found and kept a copy of every one of our bounties.”

Buggy tried not to be obvious about how much that meant, but he had never been good at holding back the waterworks when he got emotional. Sniffing thickly, he said, “That stupid old man… your bounty’s gone up so many times over the years without the picture ever looking different! What a waste of his space.”

One of Shanks’ eyebrows went up—probably, Buggy realized a moment later, at the implication that Buggy had also been keeping track of Shanks’ bounties. Ah, well, in for a penny… “Seriously! It’s bad design!” Buggy insisted. “If the only changes someone like me ever noticed are that you grew that shitty little beard—”

“Shitty?” Shanks pouted, running his thumb along his jawline. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

“It’s worse without the mustache,” Buggy said bluntly. Shanks played up his shock, gasping and grabbing at his heart like an elderly man.

Buggy rolled his eyes. “As I was saying: if all I ever noticed was the beard and that your hat disappeared at some point, your average citizen’s not going to realize the Marines have released a new poster and the bounty went up!” Jabbing a thumb brazenly at his own face, Buggy said, “At least I had something new going on each time.”

Shanks cocked his head at Buggy. “About that… do you change your makeup style so often for fun, or are you still searching for the perfect look?”

Buggy scoffed. “There’s no such thing as perfection when it comes to art, or fashion,” he said. “There’s just advancing your craft. Every time I change my look up, I’m incorporating newer and flashier techniques, and better supplies. The makeup I had access to fifteen, even ten years ago would never have lasted a day in Impel Down, let alone weeks.”

“That’s true,” Shanks said thoughtfully, hand on his chin. “The stuff you have these days is much—” He cut himself off, glancing over Buggy’s shoulder. Buggy turned to see a cluster of men in ragged prison uniforms standing maybe forty feet away, staring at them and then glancing away awkwardly when they met Buggy’s eye.

“I told them not to bother me today,” Buggy grumbled, giving the group a half-hearted glare. They visibly quaked, knees knocking, but neither moved nor explained themselves.

“I guess our presence is interfering with their shore leave,” Shanks said, slipping back into his sandals.

Looking past the men revealed the beach had gotten crowded while Buggy wasn’t paying attention—save for a fifty-foot ring of emptiness centered on him and Shanks. These men had only approached them because there wasn’t anywhere else to be. Sighing, Buggy stood up, brushing sand off the seat of his pants.

“Lead the way, then,” he said grimly.

With a polite smile and a wave to the former prisoners, Shanks walked back up the beach. Buggy gave them a glare, and a threatening slice-your-throat gesture (made more emphatic by the way Buggy separated his neck as he sliced) to encourage their silence before following Shanks further inland.

The terrain got a bit jungle-like as they went on, but there were neatly trodden paths between the trees. It was a civilized corner of nature, and Buggy found he didn’t mind walking through it with just Shanks and his questions for company, even when those questions started getting a bit specific for Buggy’s tastes. (What did Shanks need to know about his plans after he found Captain John’s treasure, anyway? Was he trying to go after Buggy’s next prize while he was still busy with the current one?)

It was the middle of the lunch hour by the time their jungle path led them back into town, which was almost suspiciously convenient timing. Buggy glanced at Shanks, trying to figure out if he’d planned this or was just aimlessly wandering. Well, either way he’d better lead them somewhere soon—Buggy was hungry! He wanted to eat the kind of food he couldn’t get back on the ship—nothing a typical chef in a typical kitchen could manage. He wanted something that involved a deep fryer, or another equally specialized device. Something that would be too much of a hassle to make on a ship. Something…

“Hey!” Shanks turned to grab Buggy’s attention, pointing at a yatai on the opposite street corner. “What about that?”

Buggy spotted the word written in bold white letters on slate gray cloth and started to laugh. “What are we, on a themed vacation or something?”

“You’re the one who put the idea in my head!” Shanks said defensively, grinning. “I know it’s out of season, but…”

“No, you’re right, we have to,” Buggy said, and led them to the oden-ya. “I’m just going to look like I’m obsessed, is all.”

Ducking under the bamboo noren curtains, they found themselves in a cozy space, with three stools set up along a polished wooden table the same length as the cooktop. A gorilla mink stood behind the partitioned oden pot, rotating skewers of fishcake in their niches within the steaming broth. He glanced up at their entrance, a friendly customer service smile spreading across his face.

“Welcome! Looking for oden this afternoon, or just something to drink?” He gestured to one side, where beautiful little sake flasks and other bottles of alcohol were arranged on shelves that took up the whole side wall of the cart. “I’d be happy to warm a flask of sake up for you on the stove if you’d like.”

“We’re looking for both, thanks,” Shanks said warmly, stepping up to the counter. “I don’t suppose any of your sake is sourced from Wano?”

The mink wrinkled his nose thoughtfully. “I may have some in storage, but that stuff tend to run a little pricier, given… well, if you’re asking for it, you must know.”

“Of course you have expensive tastes in booze and nothing else,” Buggy said with a smirk, bent down to inspect the sake that was actually meant for sale. “Come on, look, they’ve got some West Blue stuff, you were always a sucker for your home ocean.”

“Oh?” Shanks leaned over Buggy to get a better look at the stock, and a prickle of heat went up Buggy’s spine. “Ooh, I do like that stuff. But I really had my heart set on something from Wano…” Turning back to the mink, he said, “Sorry to trouble you, but can you bring out what you have from Wano? I promise the price isn’t an issue, and I won’t have any problem drinking a flask of each.” The mink ducked around back without complaint.

“More like a couple flasks of each,” Buggy muttered, but he didn’t mean it cruelly. Shanks liked a drink, he always had—and rumor said the last time he saw Whitebeard before all this he’d matched him cup for cup. Whitebeard-sized cups, too, which meant he had to have a crazy tolerance these days. Good for him. Buggy wasn’t quite as capable, but he could hold his liquor. He wouldn’t be any kind of ex-Roger Pirate if he couldn’t.

“Guilty,” Shanks said, sing-songy, reaching over Buggy’s shoulder to snatch one of the larger bottles of shochu. “Can you grab a flask or two of the West Blue sake for me?”

Buggy rolled his eyes, grabbing two. “One of them’s for me.”

“We can share,” Shanks said mildly.

Buggy snorted. “If by ‘share’ you mean I get one cup and by the time I’ve finished it the flask is empty, sure, we can share.”

Shanks laughed. “Am I that bad?”

“You’re just too fast about it is all. I like to linger over a drink, really savor it.”

“Oh, you like to take your time, do you?” Shanks’ smile, already suggestively wide, spread wider still when this comment flustered Buggy.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he snapped.

“No?”

Why do you sound disappointed, Buggy was tempted to ask—except no, no he wasn’t, he did not want to know why Shanks might be disappointed Buggy hadn’t intended to be suggestive. He had already decided he wasn’t going there. “I just mean you rush things a bit.”

“…do I?”

Once again feeling like Shanks was reading things into what he was saying, but this time not at all sure what deeper meaning Shanks was taking from his words, Buggy averted his eyes, setting the pair of sake flasks down in front of the stove top. “Yeah, I know you like getting drunk, but there’s such a thing as pacing yourself, you know?”

Before Shanks could respond to this—with who knows what kind of misinterpretation of Buggy’s words this time—the mink returned, a crate of sake in flasks and jugs of various sizes in hand.

“Here we are!” With a soft grunt of effort, the mink set the crate down in front of Shanks. “Let me know if anything catches your eye.” He spotted the flasks of West Blue sake Buggy had set down and quickly made room in a pot of steaming water for them to sit and warm up. “Now, were any items looking especially appealing today?”

Buggy glanced sideways; Shanks was occupied with intently inspecting the sake. Well, if he wanted something specific he could ask for it later. “Two bowlfuls of whatever the chef recommends, for now.”

The gorilla nodded. “Coming right up!” And he was as good as his word, quickly throwing together a wide, shallow bowl of savory golden-brown broth with a skewer of fishcakes, an egg, and a few slices of daikon for each of them. It looked wonderful, warm and familiar, and it smelled even better.

Before Buggy could take a sip, Shanks had flung his arm across Buggy’s chest, blocking the spoonful of broth from reaching his mouth.

“Hang on,” Shanks said, weirdly serious. “You have to have this first.” He held out a small flask of Wano sake, tilted just far enough to encourage Buggy to grab a cup and accept the pour.

“Not warmed up?” Shanks expression didn’t so much as twitch. Buggy huffed. “Fine, fine... you and your expensive tastes.” He accepted the cup, swirled it for a moment to breathe in the aroma—they really did make it different in Wano; was it something in the water, or the rice?—and took a sip. Then blinked, goggled at the half-drunk cup, and slung back the rest with a warm floaty feeling in his chest.

Setting the cup down, he breathed, “Is that...?”

Shanks grinned. “Special pure rice brew.” He spun the flask around to reveal the maker’s mark. “From the Kuri region of Wano.”

Buggy snatched the flask away. Looking it over, he said, “Seriously?! From the same brewery?”

“And you wondered why I was so insistent.”

Buggy shook his head, laughing a little in disbelief, and poured Shanks a cup of the stuff. He glanced up at their host, politely not bothering them even though he had to be confused, and said, “This exact same sake was the first drink the two of us had, back when we were—what, eleven? Twelve?”

“Something like that,” Shanks said, watching Buggy with a pleased smile. “Stolen out of Oden’s rooms on a dare—”

“—you’re the one who dared me!” Buggy snapped. Thinking back, he added, “And he must have let us take it, we weren’t sneaky enough at twelve to get past Oden—”

“—oh, definitely,” Shanks agreed. “Bet he thought of it as a rite of passage, stealing your first drink from under the nose of your honored elders.”

Buggy snorted. “Definitely,” he echoed. Giving Shanks a look, he passed this flask along to the mink as well. “This stuff isn’t so fancy heating it will ruin the taste, right? Might as well try it the way it was meant to be had.”

“Of course,” the mink said with a gracious smile, adding the flask to the steaming pot on his stove. He watched the two of them dig into their bowls—delicious, of course—without comment, but as he carefully retrieved the first of the West Blue flasks from its bath he said, “Now, I haven’t thought about this in a long time, so I’m afraid I can’t quite recall… which of you is Shanks and which is Buggy?”

Buggy blinked dumbly up at the gorilla, his mouth full of radish. Next to him, Shanks was pulling a similar face.

Hastily swallowing his mouthful, Buggy cleared his throat and said, “You know… both of us by name? But not well enough to know which is which on sight?”

The gorilla smiled sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure until you brought up Oden. That’s Kozuki Oden, isn’t it? Which means the two of you must be Shanks and Buggy, they were the only other young people on the boat in all the stories I heard.”

“What stories?”

“‘The only other young people’…” Shanks lit up. “Do you know Dogstorm and Cat Viper?”

Buggy nearly smacked Shanks. “Seriously?! Not every mink knows each other, Shanks!”

“Heh, actually...” Buggy stared up at the gorilla mink in disbelief as he shrugged, making an embarrassed expression. “The truth is, I only learned how to prepare oden at Duke Dogstorm’s request.”

“Duke Dogstorm?” Shanks whistled. “Somebody’s moved up in the world.”

Buggy jabbed him in the side with a free-floating elbow. “I don’t want to hear that from you, Emperor Shanks!”

Shanks winced—an exaggerated gesture for the benefit of their audience—and leaned away from Buggy. “Oh, come on,” he whined, “it’s not like I meant to become an emperor or anything.”

“Oh, of course not,” Buggy said, rolling his eyes and shoving a piece of tsukune in his mouth. Eyes shut, he declared, “I’ll bet I can tell you exactly how it happened, too. You had a meal with some mediocre pirate crew and made friends. Then some shitty Marines started beating the hell out of them; they could’ve just arrested the crew, but they decided to torture them for their own amusement. Well, you could hardly let this abuse go unchallenged, could you? So naturally you had to step in, and sent the Marines running with their tails between their legs. And it was only natural that the pirate crew was thankful to you, but you never dreamed they’d all vow to follow you forever, forswearing their own flag in favor of yours. Not daring to call themselves true Red-Haired Pirates, of course, but Red-Haired Pirates adjacent.” Rolling his wrist, Buggy concluded, “And then that happened another twenty or thirty times, because you never learn.”

Opening one eye a crack, he glanced at Shanks. “How’d I do?”

Shanks, red-faced, his fist pressed to his mouth to hold back laughter, nodded weakly. “Well, uh... you’re not wrong,” he wheezed out. Taking a drink to clear his throat and calm down, he sighed. “Though you make it sound like far more of a foregone conclusion than it felt like when it was first happening.”

“That’s the benefit of an outside perspective,” Buggy said snippily. “And also hindsight.” Waving a hand in Shanks’ face, he said, “But enough about you!” Jabbing the pointer finger of that same hand at their host, Buggy said, “What’s this about you learning to make oden for Dogstorm?”

The gorilla mink smiled, his eyes wide, and Buggy suddenly remembered hearing once that gorillas didn’t actually smile, but instead bared their teeth as a threat against potential enemies. He pulled back his hand as casually as he could manage it.

“Do you really want to hear the story? I’m told I can be a bit long-winded,” the mink said, fishing one of the Wano flasks out of its water bath and offering it up.

“Yeah, let’s hear it!” Buggy said, pouring a cup for Shanks, then handing over the flask so Shanks could do the same for him. “I don’t know about Shanks but I haven’t heard anything from Zou in years, I’m dying to hear what those two have gotten up to.”

Closing his eyes, Buggy took a sip of the warmed Wano sake, not knowing Shanks was doing the same thing at the same time. They set down their cups and sighed in unpracticed unison. Suddenly aware of their double act, Buggy scowled at Shanks, who ignored him and made an encouraging gesture to their chef. “Please, go ahead. I’d love to hear news of Dogstorm and Cat Viper.”

A sad expression washed over the gorilla’s face. “I’m afraid I can only give you news of Duke Dogstorm.” At the looks on his guests’ faces, the gorilla threw out a hand and said, “Not to say—please don’t misunderstand! Lord Cat Viper still lives! It’s just that I have not met with him since he and Duke Dogstorm first returned to Zou. They... keep separate courts, and hours, and my service has always been to the day.”

A wrinkle appeared in Shanks’ brow. “They don’t talk anymore?”

“It always turns into a fight. Often one with devastating consequences for their surroundings.”

Buggy frowned. That didn’t sound right. Well, not the destruction—that sounded like those two—but fighting so badly they couldn’t even share waking hours... “What happened?”

The gorilla sighed. “As I understand it? Kozuki Oden died, and neither could forgive the other for failing to save him.” A moment later, he gave Buggy a concerned look. “Oh, are you hurt?”

Buggy blinked. Staring down at his hands, he realized he’d snapped his chopsticks in half. “I... no, I’m okay.” The gorilla carefully plucked the broken shards of wood out of Buggy’s grasp, along with a splinter or two that had tried to wedge their way into his palms. Thankfully the Chop-Chop fruit could handle any kind of stabbing, from needles up to legendary meito, so Buggy really was fine.

While the gorilla disposed of the pieces of wood, Buggy clenched his jaw, feeling Shanks’ eyes on him. “I can hear you thinking.”

“…it makes sense,” he said quietly. “What else could come between those two but the loss of someone who was as important to them as Oden?”

Buggy shot Shanks a narrow look out of the corner of his eye. “Pretty sure I told you this morning that I was done talking about sad shit,” he warned, and Shanks raised his hand in a placating gesture. The gorilla confirmed that Buggy wasn’t hurt, pointed out the extra chopsticks sitting in a cup to his left, and at their insistence told his story while they returned to their meal.

Dogstorm’s court sounded like a sight worth seeing. Minks of countless animal forms, musketeers and attendants! To think Oden’s retainer had retainers of his own now! And to think that he acted like a guy with such noble dignity, after the way he used to behave.

As the gorilla reached the end of his story—having made the closest thing to oden as could be produced with ingredients native to Zou, with Dogstorm pleased by the effort but quietly unsatisfied by the taste, the gorilla had left the court making a vow to learn the secrets of the oden-preparing arts, promising not to return until he was confident he would be able to put a true smile on the duke’s face—Buggy nudged Shanks in the side. He glanced at Buggy, a half-eaten skewer of fishcakes sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

“Can you believe,” Buggy said with a shit-eating grin, “that the noble, wounded Dogstorm this guy is talking about is the same one who tarred and feathered Mr. Rayleigh?”

Shanks nearly choked before starting to laugh. “How did I forget about that?!”

“I’m sorry, Duke Dogstorm did what?” the gorilla said incredulously, staring between the two of them.

“Wait, wait,” Shanks said, before Buggy could start to tell the story. “If we’re sharing stories of mutual friends, you have to share a drink with us too.” He grabbed a clean cup from a stack to one side and handed it over to the mink. Shanks gave Buggy a pleading look, and with a magnanimous smirk Buggy chop-chopped a hand to swipe another sake flask from the water bath and pour for both of them. “So—”

“Don’t you tell it!” Buggy snapped. With a grin and a wave of his hand, Shanks metaphorically turned over the reins to Buggy, and took the opportunity to return to his sake and his meal. “So,” Buggy said to the mink, “the first thing you need to understand about Dogstorm and Cat Viper is that they acted like respectful little attendants when Oden was around, but when it was just the four of us?” Glancing at Shanks, who was grinning around the skewer in his mouth, Buggy cackled. “They were just as bad as we were.”

Buggy went on to describe the prank in loving detail, alternating bites of fishcake with the reactions of the crew (mostly hysteria, especially from Roger) and the multiple attempts to blame the prank on someone else (Dogstorm nearly succeeded in pinning it all on Buggy, but forgot himself and corrected Rayleigh on where the tar had come from). Shanks followed this up with a reminder of another time the four of them had been absolute nightmares to the crew of the Oro Jackson, and the story Buggy told about that day brought their host to literal tears of laughter.

They went around like this for over an hour, topping off their bowls and drinks all the while, recalling old times with the golden burnish of nostalgia softening the edges, easing the hurts and offenses of youth. Gradually, the last of the fear Buggy had been clinging to all day faded. It was hard to think that your childhood dread mattered much when looked at from so far off, in so fond a way. It was easy to smile at someone who so readily smiled back.

Eventually the broth pooling at the bottom of their bowls grew cold, and the flasks of sake they’d bought ran dry. Not a soul had tried to enter the yatai while they were present, and Buggy felt a fleeting burst of pity for the gorilla’s business… until he saw how well Shanks tipped. With a light heart, Buggy waved a slightly drunken farewell to the mink—he’d paced himself pretty well, but a half-dozen bottles of sake split between two men were still going to have an effect—and ducked back out into the wider world.

The air outside was not exactly cold, but it lacked the cozy warmth of the oden-ya’s atmosphere. It set something within Buggy out of alignment—or maybe back into place? He stood just outside the noren with a hand pressed to his chest, trying to place the feeling, when Shanks made his own exit and nearly ran into him.

The proximity of Shanks at his back, with the last traces of that soup-warmed air drifting in his wake, sent a burst of longing down Buggy’s spine so intense his knees went weak.

Shanks’ hand went to his shoulder. “Careful,” Shanks said, hoisting Buggy fully upright, the flat of his arm firm along the breadth of his back. “You alright, Buggy?”

Fuck. Even though it was the wrong arm, something about Shanks putting an arm over Buggy’s shoulder made his stomach flip and his heart kick into high gear. Stupid, loyal organs didn’t have the sense Buggy’s brain had been given, to recognize that feeling feelings for Shanks was a very bad idea.

“Fine,” Buggy croaked out, taking a few careful steps away from Shanks to confirm he was steady enough to make that lie truth. He shook himself off.

“Your tolerance not what it used to be?” Shanks teased.

“My tolerance is normal,” Buggy insisted, not looking back at Shanks. “Yours, on the other hand...”

“Yeah, unlike you I’m actually fine,” Shanks said, picking up his pace to match Buggy’s stride. Glancing around, his back straightened involuntarily with recognition. Nudging Buggy’s shoulder with his own, he said, “Here, there’s a park nearby where we won’t be bothered. We can sit down, let you sober up a little before heading back to the ship.”

Buggy drifted in Shanks’ wake on some old instinct. It was only mid-afternoon. “There wasn’t anything else you wanted to do?”

Shanks glanced at Buggy over his shoulder. “What?”

“I dunno, some... sight you thought I should see, or a shop you like or something?”

Shanks blinked. “Buggy, I’ve never been to this island before. I asked the locals for recommendations yesterday so I could have a good time with you.”

Buggy’s face went hot. “You—stop saying shit like that! Don’t you know how that sounds?”

“How it sounds?” Shanks echoed. He led Buggy through a tall, metal gate, into a walled-off plot of land with very little to it, just rock-paved paths, plaques underneath oddly colored trees, and the occasional bench. Closing the gate behind them, he spun on Buggy. “How does it sound?”

Buggy scowled and stormed past him. Like Shanks didn’t know.

“If it sounds like I’ve missed you—well, sorry, Buggy, but I have. I thought I’d been pretty obvious about that.” When Buggy turned an incredulous look on Shanks, the corner of his mouth turned up, amused. “Obvious to everyone but you, I guess.”

“You—you didn’t miss me,” Buggy said, insistent. “You missed—” he gestured vaguely between the two of them. “—someone knowing you, without you having to say anything. You missed having a history with someone.”

Shanks shook his head. “I would love to see many people from back then again, but I’ve never missed any of them like I did you.”

“Oh, come on!” Buggy spat, “what was there to miss? A greedy little brat who couldn’t decide if he hated you more than he was jealous of you? A coward who ran and hid from every fight?” The memory of Shanks leaning in close, a hand on his face, shot through Buggy. Resisting another stab of longing, he blurted out, “Some stranger’s pretty face?”

“I missed my best—” Shanks’ face screwed up in confusion. “A pretty face?”

Buggy hadn’t meant to say that. He grimaced. “You know.” Swiping a hand across his face, he chop-chopped his nose off for a moment, hiding the gap behind his free hand. “This one, that you liked so much that time.”

Understanding lit up Shanks’ face. “Oh, the gorgeous stranger with stunning eyes.” A sheepish expression coming over him, Shanks looked away, askance. “Can I tell you something embarrassing?”

Buggy blinked. Not the response he’d expected. “Uh, sure?”

“I only thought those eyes were so stunning because they reminded me of yours.”

Buggy’s jaw dropped. “The hell they did!”

“They did!” Shoving his hand over his eyes, Shanks smiled self-consciously. “Oh, I felt so ridiculous later. That poor guy, I thought, was deserving of more than my secondhand affections.” Dropping his hand to look at Buggy, he said, “Though that’s nothing compared to how ridiculous I felt the other day.”

Buggy swallowed, mouth dry.

“I’m sorry, Buggy,” Shanks said after a long, silent moment. “If I’d known it was you, I wouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

Buggy blinked.

Well. Of course he wouldn’t have. That went without saying.

He stepped back. “I know that.”

“You do?” Shanks frowned. “I… good.” Shoulders hunched, he turned to peer down at a plaque mounted beneath a pink-leafed bush. “That’s good. I don’t want there to be any more misunderstandings between us.”

“What’s there to misunderstand?” Buggy spotted a bench and sat down. He immediately felt clearer-headed. Maybe Shanks was right about his tolerance. “I get it. You kiss strangers, not old friends.”

Shanks paused mid-step. “Are you…” He spun to frown at Buggy. “Are you deliberately misunderstanding me?”

“Hm?” Buggy had just gotten comfortable, hiking one knee over the bench’s arm. What was Shanks talking about now?

“Buggy.”

Buggy craned his head back to look up at Shanks. He looked tall from this angle, and taller still when he leaned over Buggy, resting his hand on the back of the bench. Shanks’ expression was unreadable, but intense. Buggy’s mouth felt dry again. Oh, this was bad.

“I was not apologizing for kissing you. I was apologizing for kissing you wrong.”

“Kissing me wrong?” Buggy echoed bewilderedly.

“If I’d known that stranger was you, I still would have kissed you, if you’d let me,” Shanks said bluntly. “I’d kiss you now, if you’d let me. But it wouldn’t be like that kiss, it would be different.”

Buggy blinked, dumbfounded.

Shanks… wanted to kiss him.

Not the stranger he’d taken him for back then, but Buggy himself.

Had wanted to kiss Buggy then.

Still wanted to kiss Buggy now.

Would kiss him in a different way from a stranger.

“Different how?” Buggy croaked out.

For a long, agonizing moment, Shanks stared blankly at Buggy. A furious heat rushed into Buggy’s face—there was no way to take a sentence like that back. He couldn’t pretend it was simple curiosity. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t eager to be kissed.

Slowly, Shanks grinned, infuriatingly smug. “Would you like me to show you?”

#notfic #the near miss fics #one piece #shuggy #shanks #buggy #cackling to myself as i hit post on this bad boy

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komotionlessqueenmm · 9 days

Text

Imagine # 1,060

Picture NOT mine.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (Roughly) - 12 minutes

This one was actually a request, which I don't typically do, but sometimes I simply can't resist!

Tag(s) - @rishdrago

With a tired sigh (Y/n) sat the last of her groceries onto the counter in her kitchen. It was another long day at work, with another grueling case coming to a close. While she loves her job, sometimes it really takes a toll on her. But now at home all she needs to worry about is putting away her groceries, and making a quick dinner. Easy enough. If it wasn't for the sound of a floorboard creaking in the hallway that set her into fight or flight mode.

Spinning on her heel in an instant, she unholstered her pistol and aimed at the doorway to the hallway. "You really messed up you know, but if you know what's good for you, you'll come into the light nice and slow. Otherwise you're gonna leave my house in an ambulance, or a body bag." (Y/n) called out to the would be intruder, bracing herself for a potential firefight. But when the intruder rounded the corner, and came into sight, she nearly dropped her gun. "Frank?" She breathed out in a whisper, her arms falling to her sides. "Frank's dead." He muttered mournfully. "You look pretty fucking alive to me." She sassed as she holstered her pistol, knowing deep down that she could still trust Frank with her life.

The behemoth of a man simply shrugged his shoulders, taking a small first step into the room, as if he was testing the water. "What are you doing here?" She asked turning back to her groceries, while letting him come into the room at his own pace. "I killed Gianni Franco." He stated as he walked up to the other side of the counter, leaving the space between them to prove he meant her no harm. "Trust me Frank, I am well aware of that. You do realize I'm still a detective right? And I'm still friends with Jake you know, so I'm the one he goes to, to vent about you." She glanced his way, trying to get a read of his reaction to her words.

He seemed unbothered, which really didn't surprise her. "I'm sorry." Now that surprised her. Setting the box of noodles down, she turned her full attention to Frank. "Why are you apologizing to me? I'm not the one you should apologize to." She pointed out, but Frank didn't seem bothered, as he casually scratched at the scruff on his face. "Frank why are you here?" She asked now standing across from him at the counter, looking into his eyes which once swirled with so much life. "I don't know... I'm not exactly sure what to do now." He admitted.

"Jake would tell you to turn yourself in." (Y/n) mused with a small smile, her words making him chuckle softly under his breath, a sound she had missed more than she ever realized until now. "That's why I came to you." He admitted, now leaning against the counter. "I knew you wouldn't arrest me on the spot like Jake, and I could just talk to you." Frank admitted with a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Well that's where me and Jake are different, I actually believe you're doing the world good by killing those guys. People like that have to much money and power for us to touch, and we could use a vigilante to even out the odds." She hummed as she grabbed a beer from the fridge, sliding it across the counter to Frank, who took it with a small mutter of thanks. "I knew you'd feel that way." He said before sipping his beer. "Then why didn't you come to me sooner?" She asked as she leaned again the counter.

"Because I don't want you trying to join me." He stated matter-of-factly, making (Y/n) chuckle softly. "That's fair I guess, but what's changed? Why come to me now?" She pried, hoping he would open up to her. "I had a dream about you last night." His words stuck a cord in (Y/n)'s heart, one she didn't realize was still there until now. "A dream?" She played off her nerves like a natural, making her glad she was trained to hide her true emotions, in order to effectively interrogate suspects.

"It started as a nightmare, I was reliving their deaths." She knew he was referring to his family, so she didn't pry for clarification, knowing it only hurt him to talk about them. "But before I could wake up, you appeared from the shadows. You didn't say anything, you just..." He trailed off as he stared at his beer. "You just pulled me into a hug, and held me while I cried for them." (Y/n)'s heart broke at his admittance, she knew he hated showing vulnerably before he lost his family, let alone now that he's The Punisher.

"It made me realize how much I've missed you, and I also realized I can't keep doing this alone, I can't keep being alone." He looked up to her, his eyes ever so glossy. "I know Julie would want me to move on, to come to terms with what happened. But I couldn't do that while the Franco's were still alive and free." He sipped his beer. "But now... Now I need help getting through this, and you're the only one that can help me (Y/n)." Frank wanted to hold her hand as he spoke, but he resisted the urge.

"I'll always be here for you Frank." She assured him, her words pulling a genuine smile from him. "How about I make us some dinner, and we can figure out where to go from there." She offered, smiling when he nodded in agreement. "You should stay here tonight, get a shower and have some normalcy for a change." She added. "Are you trying to say I smell bad?" He asked with a playful smirk.

"Frank dear I've been holding my breath this entire time." (Y/n) joked, making him roll his eyes, despite his smile. "Still a smartass I see." He huffed. "You wouldn't have it any other way." She sassed before pointing to the hallway. "You still remember where the guestroom is." She added, smiling when he nodded and walked off to take a shower while she cooked dinner.

"Well what are you planning on doing now that you've dealt with the Franco family?" (Y/n) asked before she finished off the last bite of her dinner. "There are still people who are not punished by the justice system." Frank stated having finished his dinner long before she had. "Are you planning on doing to them what you did to the Franco's?" She asked. "Only to those who deserve it." Frank clarified, setting (Y/n)'s mind at ease.

"I'm glad you've come to me Frank, but I'm unbelievably exhausted, and I need to get some sleep." She rose from her seat, picking up her plate, and moving to grab his. Frank took her plate, and grabbed his own. "I'll deal with the dishes, go to bed, we can talk more in the morning." He insisted. "Okay thank you." She leaned over and pecked his temple like she used to as a quick thanks. "Oh and I forgot to ask, you didn't break any windows to get in did you?" She asked.

"No don't worry, I just picked the lock on the back door." He shrugged casually. "You still have that spare key I gave you don't you?" She arched a brow at him, and his faint smile gave him away. "Goodnight Frank." She called as she walked away into the hall. "Goodnight (Y/n)." He called back to her. When (Y/n) reached her bedroom, she began shedding off her clothes, in desperate need of a warm shower before going to bed.

As the water washed over her sore muscles, (Y/n)'s mind drifted to Frank. She'd been so torn up when he was declared dead, and mourned for him and his family for many months. They were a big part of her life, they were family to her. Even though deep down (Y/n) had loved Frank in a deeper more heart wrenching way. She knew it wasn't right, she knew that then, and even now she feels guilty for it.

She never acted on it, and never intended on trying to take him as her own. He was happy and he deserved the love he already had with Julie. Now things are different, but it still doesn't feel right, even if it's been over a year since she passed. He clearly still loved her, and (Y/n) wasn't going to make a fool of herself, and potentially push him away and loose him again. Still she couldn't deny the way her heart fluttered at the sight of him again, so much more gruff and rugged.

And knowing that he trusted her enough to come to her made her head spin. By the time she finished her shower, her eyes grew heavy with sleep. Her mind was still stuck on Frank, even as she crawled between the sheets. She wondered idly if he would still be here in the morning, or if he'd ever come back when he did leave. As she began drifting to sleep, she heard the sound of the guestroom door opening and closing. Telling her he was still here, and most likely would still be come morning.

(Y/n)'s sleep was dreamless and peaceful, which was better than she'd had in weeks. While Frank's dreams were chaotic and filled with memories that still hurt him oh so deeply. He dreamt of his children, of his wife, of the look of betrayal and hurt on Jakes face. Then he dreamt of (Y/n), and her never ending acceptance of the choices he's made. He felt at ease while he dreamt of her, his tense muscles relaxing as he dreamt of walking with her beside a lake.

She always had a way of putting him at ease, just by simply being there and listening to him vent whenever he needed it. He knew she meant more to him than just a friend, but he much like her, had never intended on exploring those feelings. But now after everything, despite knowing he's putting her in danger by coming around, Frank knows he needs her. He needs her help more than ever, and he knows deep down that Julie would understand.

When morning came Frank woke up to the smell of breakfast. Something he's missed more than he realized until now. In a bit of a groggy daze Frank wondered into the kitchen, dressed in the sleep clothes he found in the closet in the guestroom. "Mornin' bud." (Y/n) mused as she pushed a fresh cup of coffee his way. "Morning." He muttered as he slipped at the hot brew, slightly surprised she remembered how he likes his coffee.

"You want some breakfast?" She asked as she pulled two plates from the cupboard. "Please." He nodded his head in agreement. "Good because I made plenty." She mused with a smile, as she placed a plate in front of him. "I'm glad you're still here and you didn't slip away in the night." She added sincerely. "I half expected that last night would be the last time I'd ever see you." Her words cut him deeper than he would have expected, but he understood where she was coming from.

"Like I said, I need your help." Frank said earnestly. "Well then, what's the plan?" She asked as she sat beside him with her own plate. "I don't really have a plan, but for now I think we'll just take it one day at a time, and figure it all out." He shrugged. "Wow the Frank Castle doesn't have a plan, that's a first." (Y/n) joked, making him chuckle. "So are you planning on staying here?" She asked a few moments later. "No I don't want to put you at risk of being caught hiding a fugitive." He shook his head.

"I appreciate that." She hummed softly, having worried a bit about that last night. "I think it'll be best if I just come in the evenings when I need... Well a shoulder to lean on I guess." He said, picking at his food a little. "And when you need patched up I imagine." She added, trying to lighten the mood a bit, and Frank agreed with a small chuckle. "Yeah I'm sure I probably will come to you when I need patched up." He smiled at her before going back to eating his breakfast. "I'll be sure to stock up on some supplies." (Y/n) mused more to herself, than to Frank.

(Y/n)'s pager went off with a shrill beeping, signaling that it was time to get to work. Her partner letting her know they already had a new case to work on. "Well that's my queue, I've gotta get going. I'll see you later Frank, don't worry about the dishes, I'll deal with that when I get home." (Y/n) moved back into the kitchen, placing her half empty plate into the sink for now. "Hey (Y/n)." Frank called to her before she could rush off. "Yeah?" She asked, turning her attention to him. "Thank you, for everything." He stood from his seat, and crossed the room, pulling her into a hug. "You're welcome Frank." She hummed as she hugged him back, feeling as though she's already made a difference in his chaotic life.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

I honestly couldn't think of a better way of ending this one, but I hope it was satisfactory either way. I'm a little rusty, as I haven't consistently written in ages, so I apologize if it didn't turn out as good as you hoped. (゜-゜)

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chirpsythismorning · 2 years

Text

It would appear I am indeed one of the very few optimistic (delusional?) Bylers left.

Not saying that if you feel hopeless and need to move on, that you can't. A lot of you have been through this before with other shows. Again and again. You’re tired and fed-up and you have every right to be.

Technically, Season 5 won't be out for another 2+ years anyways, which means the best thing for everyone regardless is to get whatever we need off our chests now and then to just go on a hiatus for the foreseeable future.

When it comes to how I feel about Vol. 2, there were definitely at least a few good moments. If this season has anything going for it, it’s the emotional value. This is without a doubt the most I’ve cried ever while watching the show. One scene in particular that had me on the floor was the scene with Will and El reuniting and hugging. And of course the scene with Will and Mike in the van (DAMN YOU NOAH SCHNAPP FOR MAKING ME SOB SO HARD ALL DAY THAT I GOT A MIGRAINE!)

But yes, I am a Byler. So you could say I was a bit disappointed in that department.

And yet still, I think my take on the later part of season 4 is much different from the majority.

Because personally, I don’t think that what played out in Vol. 2 means that Byler is dead. If anything, I believe it to be more endgame than I did before (well, at least in comparison to pre-s4. There’s no denying pre-Vol. 2 confidence levels remain unmatched. Truly the best era for the Byler fandom to date).

I think my main issue is, like so many of us on here, I thought it was guaranteed we would get to see Mike become aware of Will’s feelings.

Alas, we did not.

And to be totally clear, without this revelation, Byler can’t go anywhere.

Neither forwards, nor technically backwards.

This means the baiting game is not over. Which as bad as it sounds, is why I’m still so optimistic…

Now, if they had made Will’s feelings obvious to Mike, or even the fact that Will is gay as being obvious to Mike, but STILL had Mike behave the way he did in Vol. 2, now THAT would have sucked. It would have been canon rejection on Mike’s end.

But we didn’t even get rejection from Mike.

Instead, we got Will coming off as a hardcore M*leven shipper in Mike's eyes, all while the audience was getting the exact opposite interpretation of this situation; that Will is helplessly in love with Mike.

Will is able to voice the extent of his love, albeit through advice to Mike about his own situation with El, in a way that no one else on the show has been able to. Most of the other characters need a bunch of bystanders to make them realize their feelings and push them in that direction. But Will, he doesn’t need someone holding his hand along the way, telling him what the right thing to do or say is. His love isn’t something he needs to really think about in order to understand it. It just is.

(Which is SO fucking ironic when you think about how Mike always needs help with figuring out his feelings for El and even sounds like he’s reading off a script when he’s trying to explain himself to her. Whereas with Will, s2 monologue teas, it’s the most natural thing Mike’s ever done. Unscripted, straight from the heart… And both Vol. 1-2 continued to drive home this concept, so maybe jot that down..)

It’s just that, unfortunately, in Will’s eyes, Mike will never return this love, which means his only option is to let Mike go. If supporting Mike and El’s relationship means putting himself dead last in every respect, so that his best friend and his sister can be happy, Will is going to do just that.

But as far as Mike knows, Will holds no romantic feelings for him. I mean after all, Will is guiding Mike literally every step of the way to confessing his love to El, and that doesn't sound like the behavior of someone who’s in love with you, now does it?

So why would Mike, throw everything on the line, including the survival of their family and friends in Hawkins by not simply just telling his gf he loves her? All while El is right there loving him and needing his love to fight (presumably), with Will beside him literally rooting for him to do just that? This is very obviously the only option in Mike’s eyes.

Which is ironic, because in a way, I think that Mike has truly never seen him and Will as an option, just like Will, but for an entirely different reason.

Mike views his feelings for Will as childish, something he will grow out of, or at least should have by now.

“We’re not kids anymore. What did you think, really? That we were never going to get girlfriends? That we were just going to sit in my basement and play games for the rest of our lives?”

If Mike can’t love El, then how can he possibly love any women? She’s special. She’s a superhero. He HAS to love her, right? It’s the best option he could ever possibly have. Well, at least considering…

But what happens when suddenly, he comes to the realization that him and Will ARE an option? And that the only thing ever stopping them was himself and his inability to just be honest with everyone and himself?

I think the truth is, there’s a reason that they’re holding off on this revelation for Mike.

It will be a catalyst. It will change everything.

Now, how exactly do you think Mike is going to react to this? The fact that Will was in love with him this whole time and he had no idea?

Honestly, I think he’s going to react horribly, but not for the reason everyone assumes.

Because I would argue that, if Mike was going to react badly with disgust or even just let Will down nicely to confirm it’s indeed unrequited, then the Duffer’s would have just given this revelation up by now. But they haven’t.

Once Mike finds out that Will is (probably always will be) in love with him, and that instead of telling him, Will used his love to help Mike get closer to El, even when Mike himself was having doubts over and over? That Will went as far as to lie about the painting he worked so hard on for Mike in order to rekindle their dying friendship, to instead insinuate it was commission from El, to give Mike that final push he needed to even have the courage to tell El he loved her? That all the moments like this that they shared as of late, was really just Will talking about himself? That the only reason he was able to tell El he loved her in the first place, was because he was so moved by Will’s love for him??

This is going to break Mike.

And let’s be real here, two episodes would not have done this revelation justice.

So now, just knowing the direction they went for Vol. 2, as well as coming to terms with it, I have reached the conclusion that, despite how bleak things seem now, ‘maybe all of this is happening for a reason’ (s2 Mike Wheeler, we miss u).

Which brings me to the other most important piece of the puzzle, which is that, arguably, El needs to be the one who ends things once and for all.

The general audience has been given the impression El is head over heels in love with Mike, and so of course they were rooting for Mike to get on with it and just tell her he loved her.

But that’s the interesting part. He finally did tell her, but her reaction in the aftermath was not something a lot of fans expected.

It seems that she’s distancing herself from Mike, a fact that Will acknowledges to Mike later at Hopper’s cabin, with Mike genuinely confused because he thought he did the one thing he had to do.

He told her he loved her. Which makes everything alright now, right?

But maybe it doesn’t.

Maybe the reminder we got, of that speech from Max to El, about how she didn’t need Mike or Hopper or ANY man to know her worth, was foreshadowing for what honestly needs to happen in order for El to really process and realize her own true feelings about Mike.

Because, although I do believe El genuinely thought she loved Mike, is it possible that Mike was not only having doubts about saying it because of the reasons he argued, or even because of some repressed feelings for Will, but also because El hadn’t given him what he needed to truly believe she loved him.

Mike, like a lot of people, doesn’t need to hear “I love you” to believe that someone loves him.

“I didn’t say it.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He wants something more meaningful, or more specifically, something along the lines of the speech Will gave to him in the van.

Will’s confession disguised as El’s, was what Mike needed to finally say I love you to El...

Something I think we also got caught up in, is this idea that the Duffer’s were just going to drop M*leven and throw in Byler, with everything else going on, while they still have a whole ass season to promote for another 3+ years, and to their mostly 80’s loving homophobic audience. If Byler is going to happen, it’s going to be the definition of slow-burn and endgame. That’s literally the only way.

This puzzle is complex, which sucks if you want all the answers now, because we’re just not going to get them. If they give up all their moves, then what is the point of telling the story at all?

Other pieces of the puzzle include things that arguably still need to happen before Byler can, even regardless of the constraints they have as show-runners who run the biggest show on Netflix’s dying platform.

Things like Will and El’s love for each other as brother and sister. Considering all the fans that said Will hates El because he didn’t stand up to her bullies or that he’s a home-wrecker who just wants to get with her boyfriend, is why I do think they needed to debunk these insinuations within the narrative. And boy oh boy did they deliver on that front. Will is the most selfless son of a bitch on the planet, who loves his best friend and his sister so much. They made that very clear. And you can see that despite a few homophobes here and there, the general audience's reaction to Will in Vol 2 is sympathy and to Mike it's confusion and betrayal...

Hmm, making El realize she doesn't even love Mike, after making Will's unrequited feelings for Mike more clear, after making Mike behave like an IDIOT this entire time juggling these two relationships, only for him to become aware of whats going on, and to clearly be in love with Will?

Sounds like a good way to set up Byler to an audience that might not have humored it before...

And like I said, with how important I do think it was for this to happen in order for them to go the Byler route, is why I don’t necessarily see this approach as a bad thing. We even got the Will and El hug in 4x08, which maybe it’s just because Noah and Millie are so close, but I would easily rank that on my top most well-earned moments in the whole show.

We NEEDED that. Especially in terms of what is likely to come in season 5 with Byler endgame...

Also, yes the Will angst sucked and it's just trauma porn at this point. I’m not going to deny that fully. I agree with pretty much all of the criticism in regards to how they chose to do certain things when they didn't necessarily have to, but I also simultaneously am able to understand that it again, maybe this is all happening for a reason. If they are indeed going to have Will play a big role in the final season, than them forgetting his birthday, Mike being oblivious and all this other shit he's been through combined, sets up a really arc for him next season, not even necessarily a villain one, but all of this pain has the potential to lead to a happy ending. And I'm being full serious.

Like we have Finn Wolfhard saying the ending of Stranger Things will be like the ending of Schitt’s Creek??? That it will end at it's highest point. The last episode of Schitt’s Creek is literally a happily ever after gay wedding, there's no other way to interpret that…

We also know that a lot of ideas for the last seasons were planned from the beginning, with David Harbour saying that he knew the ending way back in s2 and that it's beautiful and has been the intended plan all along. That there's easter eggs that will have us going 'WOW this is what we've been watching the whole time'? That it's wonderful?

If you’re the level of Byler truther that believes they were somewhat planned all along from the beginning, then you would also know that if they plan a happy ending for Mike and Will, then they would have no problem killing us this painfully in the beginning of the end, because they know we’ll be the ones cheering on by the actual end, and it'll be the homophobes who are pissed and stuck with this result forever as endgame.

I’m just saying, don’t be surprised when s5 gets closer and we actually see them promoting Byler… like a lot. And we actually start getting in canon hints at scenes with El herself even trying to get them together.

Groveling Mike Wheeler era?

Will finding a potential new love interest and Mike pining/jealous?

Come ONNN! You guys are way more delusional than you’re giving yourselves credit for and I urge you to join me!!!

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tallmadgeandtea · 10 months

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Turn Week 2023:

History Nerdery!

Hello, and Happy Fourth of July! For today's Turn Week, I wanted to talk about Benjamin's regiment in the Continental Army. We all know he's a Connecticut Dragoon, but what does that mean and what did they do, exactly? I'm going to let you know! The Continental Cavalry is my favorite unit in the army, and I actually did an Honors Research Project on them last year for my college. WARNING: this is going to be LONG. I'm sorry. Kind of.

What is the Continental Cavalry?

The cavalry is the mounted troops in a military force, meaning they fight on horseback. At the time of the Revolution, the cavalry was considered an elite and necessary force for a proper military. Combat on horseback was dangerous- you not only had to avoid cannon and gunfire, but you had to attack other mounted troops with lances and sabers of their own.

There are two types of cavalry: light cavalry and heavy cavalry. The light cavalry had three primary duties. Scouting, which was to patrol enemy forces, movements, and the terrain surrounding camps and battlefields, which also played into reconnaissance. They also served as messengers to officers on and off the battlefield. On the other hand, heavy cavalry was troops used in action. Their objective was to lead charges and weaken the enemy’s unmounted troops, like going after their flanks. They also performed raids/ambushes or small skirmishes against the enemy. Their combat was on and off the battlefield.

Due to the near constant lack of funds for the Continentals, their Dragoons performed both light and heavy cavalry roles. A dragoon/trooper is a soldier who fights either on horseback or on foot, depending on the amount of horse available. They used weapons such as: a cavalry saber, a shortgun, and a musket.

Unlike the British army, which brought over cavalry forces, at the beginning of the war, there was not an official cavalry for the Continentals. Some state and organized militias had mounted troops- such as the Philadelphia Light Horse- but professional, commissioned troops had not seen action.

After seeing the performance of the British cavalry during the New York Campaign, General George Washington realized his army needed horses of their own. Writing to Congress in late 1776, “From the Experience I have had in this Campaign… I am Convinced there is no carrying on the War without them.”

What made up the Continental Cavalry?

In 1777, the cavalry's first year in action, there were four regiments of Light Dragoons.

The 1st Regiment of Dragoons- from Virginia, also known as Bland's Light Horse. Their uniforms were originally the "classic" Continental coat: blue with red facings, but they then changed the standard to brown with green facings.

The 2nd Regiment, also known as the Connecticut Light Dragoons, Colonel Elisha Sheldon and Benjamin Tallmadge's force, mustered from Connecticut, hence the name. Their uniform was blue with buff facings.

The 3rd Regiment, aka Colonel Baylor's or Lady Washington's Light Horse, in honor of Martha Washington. Their uniform was white with blue facings (one of my favorite uniforms in the army.)

And the 4th Regiment, led by Colonel Stephen Moylan. His troops originally wore red! coats, and this lead to some incidents of friendly fire. At Washington's order, the regiment changed to green with red facings.

How does this relate to Turn: Benjamin Tallmadge and His Dragoons.

Although the show does not get into heavy detail about Benjamin Tallmadge's battle experience, we know what battles he was present at with his regiment.

1777 the cavalry's first years as professional troops in battle. Both had very... different outcomes, let's say. Both were also mentioned or briefly shown in season 2 of Turn, and my research focused on this.

During the Campaigns, a set of troops from each regiment of Dragoons was stationed with General Washington in Pennsylvania, led by Bland, Moylan, Baylor, Sheldon, and Tallmadge.

Benjamin Tallmadge and his soldiers were present at both the Battles of Brandywine and Germantown.

At Brandywine, Washington first used the dragoons for only scouting, not combat. But as the British went after his insecure right flank, he frantically sent units of soldiers and cavalry to prevent the British from getting to the road along and to Brandywine Creek. The cavalry also acted as messengers to officers during this battle, but insufficient preparation and speed led to delayed reports. The cavalry did lead a charge that allowed Washington to retreat, but the day was lost. Afterwards, the British marched into the Continental capital of Philadelphia.

After Brandywine, Washington needed another battle to try and take back Philadelphia. With a night march, he decided to attack the British near their camp in Germantown, Pennsylvania, a small village outside the city.

Washington had four columns, 2 made up of Continental forces and two of state militias. Just as at Brandywine, his right wing was commanded by Sullivan, and his left by Greene. The Dragoons were now under their newly commissioned commander, General Pulaski. Tallmadge stated in his memoirs that, “if every division of the army had performed its allotted part, it seems as if we must have succeeded.”

Unfortunately, this would not be the outcome at Germantown. At the beginning of the battle, the Continentals were winning. Part of the camp was captured. A heavy fog and rain set over the battlefield, and the British used this fog to their advantage. They retreated into a local country house and created a stalemate.

Benjamin Tallmadge and his dragoons were first stationed with Sullivan’s division, close upon “the scene of the action.” As the battle turned against the Continental forces and the troops became victim to enemy and friendly fire, Washington ordered him to use his 2nd Dragoons to block any further retreat, to no avail. Germantown was lost.

Germantown was the last official engagement of the Philadelphia campaign. But on June 28, 1778, the Continental Army and the Cavalry engaged the forces at the Battle of Monmouth in New Jersey. Due to proper military training thanks to the Inspector General Baron von Steuben and six months of waiting at Valley Forge, the army emerged as a proper fighting force and prevailed against the British. The victory allowed the Continentals to take back their capital and keep Washington in as Commander in Chief.

Monmouth is the shown in the finale of season 2- Gunpowder, Treason, and Plot- with Benjamin leading his dragoons into the battle.

After the 1777 campaigns, Tallmadge and his dragoons would stay up north, particularly New York, to patrol and engage the enemy in raids. They also participated in the Battles of Stony Point and Fort St. George, which were shown in seasons 3 and 4 of Turn.

Sources (and further reading):

Memoir of Col. Benjamin Tallmadge : Tallmadge, Benjamin, 1754-1835 : Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming : Internet Archive

Brandywine: A Military History of the Battle that Lost Philadelphia but Saved America, September 11, 1777 by Michael C. Harris, Paperback | Barnes & Noble® (barnesandnoble.com)

Germantown: A Military History of the Battle for Philadelphia, October 4, 1777 by Michael C. Harris, Hardcover | Barnes & Noble® (barnesandnoble.com)

Cavalry of the American Revolution - Jim Piecuch - Westholme Publishing

#oh my GOD #i went insane #i went crazy #i'm so so sorry #i just really really like dragoons.#turn week 2023 #turn: washington's spies #benjamin tallmadge #military history #american revolution #the Philadelphia campaign #saber & shortgun #I hope I got everything right. oh my god. I’m sorry.#long post

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bestloversfan · 1 year

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We're in 2023, and there are still people trying to argue that Katniss was aro/ace and never felt romantic/sexual attraction for Peeta... 🤦🏻‍♀️ I could write a long meta about this for the milionth time, but this time I'll do something different. I'll just show some quotes from the books.

If she was unable to feel romantic/sexual attraction and only ever had platonic feelings for him, what are all of these quotes supposed to mean?

"He gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me." (The Hunger Games)

"This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware. Neither of us hobbled by sickness or pain or simply unconscious. Our lips neither burning with fever or icy cold. This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another." (The Hunger Games)

"So, in a way, my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck,’ says Peeta. For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff, playing at being in love not actually being in love." (The Hunger Games)

[...]"His face takes on a special look when he concentrates. His usual easy expression is replaced by something more intense and removed that suggests an entire world locked away inside him. I’ve seen flashes of this before: in the arena, or when he speaks to a crowd, or that time he shoved the Peacekeepers’ guns away from me in District 11. I don’t know quite what to make of it. I also become a little fixated on his eyelashes, which ordinarily you don’t notice much because they’re so blond. But up close in the sunlight slanting in from the window, they’re a light golden color and so long I don’t see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinks.

One afternoon Peeta stops shading a blossom and looks up so suddenly that I start, as though I were caught spying on him, which in a strange way maybe I was. But he only says, “You know, I think this is the first time we’ve ever done anything normal together.” (Catching Fire)

"I don't know what I expected from my first meeting with Peeta after the announcement. A few hugs and kisses. A little comfort maybe. Not this." (Catching Fire)

“When Peeta holds out his arms, I walk straight to them. It’s the first time since they announced The Quarter Quell that he’s offered me any sort of affection. He’s been more like a very demanding trainer, always pushing, always insisting Haymitch and I run faster, eat more, know our enemy better. Lover? Forget about that. He abandoned any pretense of even being my friend. I wrap my arms tighly around his neck before he can order me to do push-ups or something. Instead he pulls me in closer and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I won’t be the first to let go." (Catching Fire)

"I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me.

'I do', I say. 'I need you'." (Catching Fire)

"I feel that thing again. The thing I only felt once before. In the cave last year, when I was trying to get Haymitch to send us food. I kissed Peeta about a thousand times during those Games and after. But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down.

This time, there is nothing but us to interrupt us. And after a few attempts, Peeta gives up on talking. The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest, down through my body, out along my arms and legs, to the tips of my being. Instead of satisfying me, the kisses have the opposite effect, of making my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind." (Catching Fire)

"When I wake, I have a brief, delicious feeling of happiness that is somehow connected with Peeta." (Catching Fire)

"I sit next to Peeta on the sand to eat my rolls. For some reason, it's difficult to look at him. Maybe it was all that kissing last night, although the two of us kissing isn't anything new. It might not even have felt any different for him." (Catching Fire)

"I sit back on my bed cross-legged and find myself rubbing the smooth iridescent surface of the pearl back and forth against my lips. For some reason, it’s soothing. A cool kiss from the giver himself." (Mockingjay)

"I’m light-headed with giddiness. What will I say? Oh, who cares what I say? Peeta will be ecstatic no matter what I do. He’ll probably be kissing me anyway. I wonder if it will feel like those last kisses on the beach in the arena, the ones I haven’t dared let myself consider until this moment." (Mockingjay)

“Sometimes when I’m alone, I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena. To make myself put a name to the thing I've lost. But what's the use? It's gone, he's gone. Whatever existed between us is gone." (Mockingjay)

"Despite what I feel for Peeta, this is when I accept deep down that he'll never come back to me." (Mockingjay)

"On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. [...] So after, when he whispers, 'You love me. Real or not real? I tell him, 'Real'." (Mockingjay)

There's more quotes like that, but I think these are enough. Now, can you all please stop pretending that these quotes don't exist and accept the fact that there's canon evidence refuting the belief that Katniss was aro/ace and never felt romantic/sexual attraction for Peeta? 😑

#*sighs*#katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark #thg

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littledrummeraussie · 6 months

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tell me all the things that you couldn't before.

masterlist. | want to be added to my taglist?

warnings: brief mentions of sex. a nightmare. hurt/comfort. lots of loving for Ashton. badboy!mechanic!Ashton AU.

word count: 5435

author’s note: This fic was written back in January, 2020, as part of the infamous A Permanent Chase fic, which I'm not sure will ever see the light of day as it only lives in my head and my heart.

The original concept is the following (to help you understand the fic better):

Ashton (in the beginning appearing as Fletcher) comes back to Sydney, where he starts working at Calum's garage as a mechanic. Shortly after this he meets our girl and starts to pursue her. They do start dating, but after some complications happen, and she finds out Fletcher is not the person he tells people he is, but someone else (Ashton), and she quickly breaks things up between them.

What she doesn't realize is that she and Ashton have met before, just after graduation at a beach party, where they fell in love for a night, but never saw each other again. Ashton does recognize the girl, but she doesn't recognize him for a long time, until finally Ashton does tell her the truth about their past.

The story is a mess - the original idea included gangs and street racing in which Ashton also partakes, lots of chasing after the girl in different places and scenarios, who eventually starts to put together how Ashton really loves her and actually wants to protect her from things happening around the city. (This is a huge reason why I never really worked on the story - I couldn't decide on anything, so it's just a big mess.)

They eventually make up and finally kiss at another beach party (full circle), and decide that they want to start a relationship with each other. There are lot of added stories to them in my mind, all of them following the main story above.

I also realized over the years that in some ways they are kinda toxic, but I cannot help it, I love my babies so much. So if you have any additional questions, please feel free to ask them.

Feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

-----

It was well past midnight when you realized that there was something out of the ordinary. At first everything seemed to be normal, your night started like any other: you stopped by the garage after work, parking your car just outside the building and greeted the boys who were still working there. You’ve convinced Ashton to finish early, making Calum close up for the night, and dragged your boyfriend up the stairs to his flat.

He was in a really good mood, and with a cheeky grin he pulled you into the shower with himself. His hands were searching and grabbing at whatever body parts they could reach, and after he’d promised you the best fuck of your life, Ashton picked you up to cross the tiny apartment to his bedroom, where he made good on his promise. You were lying in a tangled mass afterwards, watching the last rays of sunshine peeking through the window, painting Sydney in the most beautiful shades of pink, orange and yellow.

You were ready to make some dinner, but Ashton preferred cuddle time, and held you close to his side while he ordered Thai food from one of his favourite places. You spent the time kissing and talking about your day until the guy arrived with your order, and you ate in comfortable silence in the kitchen, playing footsie all through dinner. Usually this was the time when you went out to have fun around town, or just lay on the couch, watching the TV mindlessly, but the last few weeks have been different.

Since you’ve decided to take up some courses to help you with your work, it meant that eventually you needed to take exams on them as well. You had your doubts when you first approached Ash with the idea, but he was supportive, and in his own way, he helped you with your studying and papers. It usually meant buying you coffee or letting you rant about your problems – or ordering food when he thought you could use the extra time. And his apartment was much quieter than your noisy neighbourhood. He did not mind you staying over if it meant cuddles, food sharing and sex – all three of those happened regularly, so he did not complain.

You have already started revising notes when Ashton came up to you and gave a kiss on your neck. You leaned back against his chest, looking up at him with a smile.

“You’re going to bed?”

“Yeah, I promised Calum that I will open in the morning, since someone decided to drag me away early,” he leaned forward to press another kiss on your forehead, his red locks falling over your face. “And I don’t want to keep you away from your notes and books, which are clearly more interesting than your own boyfriend.”

“How tragic,” you laughed, turning around on the kitchen chair to wrap your arms around him. “Please file a complaint, and I will talk to the management.”

“And what will I get as a consolation prize?” he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Blowjobs.”

“Oh, plural? That doesn’t sound so bad,” Ashton grinned at you, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “When can I start collecting them?”

“You know how offices work – it might take a few weeks to get an answer,” you bit your lip to hide a smile, and Ash just huffed at you.

“If it was up to you, I wouldn’t get my blowjobs for the next 30 days or so,” his fingers found a way into your tied up hair, slowly pulling out strands and combing them back into an even messier bun. “Any way to file a complaint about filing complaints?”

“I might know someone who can help you,” you tilted your head forward, pressing a small kiss on the skin of his stomach, then quickly blew a raspberry on it. “But only during opening hours.”

“You are terrible,” he laughed, grabbing your face and pulling you closer to plant a kiss on your lips. “Alright, I’ll leave you to your notes.”

“Don’t hog the blankets,” you poked his side, and Ash laughed again, pushing your hand away. “Good night, Cardinal.”

“Is that a joke on my hair?”

“You tell me,” you winked at him, and he leaned back to give you another kiss.

“Good night, you monster.”

* * *

You knew something was up when you heard noises from the bedroom. The flat was really small, with no actual doors between the bedroom, the living area and the kitchen, and at first you thought the all-nighters you pulled would bother Ashton and he wouldn’t be able to sleep with the light on in the kitchen. But he was a heavy sleeper, still and calm, and the only thing that ever broke the silence was his light snoring. But not tonight.

The first thing you heard were the rustling sheets, a pillow thumping down onto the floor, the bed creaking under his weight. There was a loud gasp, more rustling, something hitting the nightstand or the bed frame, then another loud thump on the mattress. More gasps, more heavy breathing – you could hear the panic in the way he was trying to catch his breath, choking on air, like he couldn’t get enough oxygen into his lungs.

You pushed yourself out of the chair, running to the small bedroom to check on Ashton. He was tangled up in the sheets, body twisting around as he tried to kick off the covers, thrashing in his blanket prison. His arms were swinging, trying to grab onto something (or someone), hitting the pillows and the bed with every move. He pushed his head back into the pillow, turning it left and right as he was panting, his Adam’s apple moving almost in a frantic, panicked way.

He was no stranger to nightmares – when he was exhausted or just had a bad day, he would go to bed early, resting his head on your stomach, hugging your body close to him like a pillow, and that usually did the trick. He slept soundly and without interruption. But sometimes he was just so lost in his own head that he forgot about it all, not caring about the dreams sneaking into his sleepy mind, and he usually woke with a start in the middle of the night. He would curl his body around yours, telling you that he’s okay, he just had a bad dream, he will fall back to sleep soon – he only ever asked you to hold his hand during these moments.

But tonight was different, Ashton never had a nightmare like this, one that physically shook him. He was fighting so hard to wake up, but nothing seemed to work. You dropped onto the mattress, climbing closer, and grabbed him by his shoulders, shaking him with all the strength that you had.

“Ashton! Ashton, wake up! Ash! Wake up!”

Suddenly he bolted up, eyes wide open, staring at the wall and taking in a lungful of air, making himself dizzy in the process. You shifted closer, climbing between his legs, and wrapped your arms around his trembling body. You held him close, running your fingers over his back, murmuring soft words into his ear as he buried his face in your neck, taking deep breaths, trying to calm his hammering heart.

“I’m here, Ash, it’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

He locked his arms around your waist, pulling you closer, never loosening his grip on you. You ran your hand up to his shoulder, lightly massaging his tense muscles, caressing his neck, brushing your fingers over his hair. His skin was cold and sweaty, his hair wet and sticking to his forehead. His breathing was slowing, and you moved your head to press a small kiss on his temple. He tensed for a second, but then melted into your arms once again.

“It’s alright,” you whispered, still stroking the red locks at the back of his head. “It’s over. It was just a dream, it’s over. I’m here. You’re awake. It’s okay.”

His breath was hot on your neck as he inhaled deeply, nuzzling his face back into your skin. His muscles were slowly relaxing, but he was still tense and sweaty, and a shiver ran through his body. He tried to burrow closer to get more of your warmth, and you let him stay in your arms like this for a few more minutes. When you could feel he was a bit more relaxed, you pulled back a little, lifting his head up to look at you. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, and it took him a few seconds to get out of his daze.

Ashton’s gaze skipped over yours, instead focusing on the chain hanging from your neck. The silver ring he gave you almost a year ago was hooked on a thin necklace, the weight of the metal resting between your breasts, a comfort you never knew you needed. You still remembered the time when he wore it on his finger, playing with it whenever he started getting nervous. He called it a good luck charm, something he desperately needed while he was chasing after you. But once he got hold of your heart, he gave it to you – since then it became something much more than just a piece of jewellery. For you: a reminder; for others: a warning.

His clumsy fingers wrapped around the ring, slightly tugging on it. You slowly tilted his head up again, trying to catch his eyes. His hazel ones finally found your gaze, and you gave him a small smile, lightly running your fingers over his stubbly jaw.

“Hey, you’re okay?”

Silence, then a nod.

“How about you go and take a shower? Get warmed up,” you rubbed his arms, trying to warm his still cold skin. “And I will change the sheets.”

Another nod.

Ash let go of your necklace, slowly peeling himself out of the bed, starting to go to the bathroom, then stopped, looked back at you. You gave him another encouraging smile, nodded at him that it’s okay, you both will be fine, after which he finally made his way out of the room. When the lock clicked and the shower started up, you let out a breath you were holding back. A thousand questions were running through your mind, but you didn’t want to take too much time thinking about them. You wanted to make sure Ashton was comfortable after his nightmare, that he can come back and relax into the bed, wrapped in your arms, and sleep off this horrible experience.

You started stripping off the sweat soaked sheets, pulling out a fresh set from the drawer, working methodically in changing them. After that you opened the window, letting in fresh air, the slight breeze clearing away the remaining shadows from the room. You reached into another drawer, choosing a soft pair of sweatpants for Ashton, and finally went to the kitchen, making tea, waiting for him to finish up.

The lock on the bathroom door clicked, and it opened with a slight squeak. Ash stood behind the door, a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping on the tiles from his red hair. You stepped to him, holding the pants out for him. He took them from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours as he did, and that made him look at you.

“I made you tea,” you nodded towards the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe. “If you want some.”

“Thanks,” his voice was quiet and small, and he coughed a little to make his throat work. “I– I’ll be there.”

“Take your time.”

You stepped back to the kitchen, piling up your books and notes to shove them to the corner of the table. You knew there was no way you would go back to studying, not tonight. Any exam could wait – Ashton needed you now.

After a few more minutes he emerged from the bathroom, shuffling to the kitchen, and dropped down onto the chair next to you. He sighed deeply, then leaned forward, resting both his arms on the table, and put his head down on them, hiding his face. You watched him, how his back moved as he was breathing in and out. His muscles were still tense, you could see it from the way he was holding himself. You scooted a bit closer, and slowly put your hand on his elbow, a tentative touch. When he did not flinch away, you started to lightly rub his arm, up to his shoulder, down on his back, then back up again.

When you reached the back of his neck, Ash moved his head to the side, looking at you as you stroked his drying locks with your fingers. His hazel eyes were searching you as you were working through the tangled ends, brushing them back from his face. He let out another small sigh when you touched his face, caressing his cheek, which made him nuzzle into your hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, resting your hand back on his arm.

Ashton looked at you for another second, then hid his face back in the crook of his elbow. You waited for him, you knew he needed time to work through the thoughts in his head, to decide if he wanted to face them again. He slowly pushed himself up, reaching for the mug in front of him, taking a sip of his cooling tea. His fingers were running over the rim, circling it mindlessly as he focused on something in front of him.

“You… left me.”

There was silence in the kitchen – his words left you speechless. It sounded silly at first; you knew how you felt about him, how first his attention was unusual, almost uncomfortable at times, and that you wished he would give you just an ounce of space; how you started to miss him when he wasn’t around, how you watched over your shoulder if he would appear somehow, stalk behind you, keeping his distance, but never taking his eyes off of you. You knew he had his reasons to do so, and you learned to love him for that – it wasn’t so hard, he found a way to your heart, and you willingly let him in. You never wanted to let go of him ever again.

“I have no intention in doing that,” you reached out to take his hand in yours, squeezing it. “And no reason.”

“But what if you do?” he whispered, pulling his hand away. “What if you find one?”

“Ash… is this something you’ve been… thinking about lately?” you asked softly, your fingers going up to your necklace, running them over the ring.

He did not answer; his eyes were still trained on the same spot as before. He was drumming on the tabletop, the rhythm getting more and more frantic and complicated. You desperately wanted to reach out and stop him, to make him look at you, to let him know you were there, you were listening, that you wanted to understand. But it seemed he was lost in his own thoughts – thoughts that brought out a nightmare that clearly shook him to the core.

“Ashton,” you said in a small voice. “Don’t push me away. Please.”

Those words made him look at you. Those words were his words, begging you to give him another chance, to make up for the mistakes he made when you met again. They were Ashton’s words, not Fletcher’s; they made you stop in your tracks, made you listen to him. They broke you in a way you’ve known you will never be broken again. That was the first time you’ve really let him into your heart, and you never wanted him to leave.

Ash sighed deeply, slowly turning around in his chair to face you, though his head was down. His fingers nervously twitched in his lap, and he started wringing his hands, looking for the rings he usually wore to play with. He once told you that sometimes he felt naked without them, and he liked wearing at least one to mindlessly spin it around, or take it off and put it back on. You moved a little closer, pushing your knees against his, slowing down his bouncing feet. Leaning forward you reached for him, pushing your fingers between his tightly clasped ones, and interlocked them. There was a slight shake to his hands, and you gently ran your thumb over his skin, trying to calm him again.

“I’m sorry,” he finally breathed, slowly looking up at you from under his lashes. “I’m just… unsure.”

“Of me?” you tilted your head to the side, trying to see all of him. He just shook his head.

“Of myself,” Ashton answered, rubbing your hands with his thumbs. “If I’m good enough for you.”

“Of course you are,” you squeezed his fingers in yours, pushing your forehead against his. “You are my Ashton. How could you not be good enough for me?”

“That’s not what everyone else thinks,” he said with a humourless laugh. “People talk, all over town.”

“Some neighbourhood gossip won’t make me leave you,” you shook your head. “What could they tell me that I don’t already know? I know you, Ash, I know who you are.”

“You have the heart of an angel, and I’m the devil who’s holding you back,” he whispered, tilting his head down.

“Maybe I’ve had enough of heaven,” your hand went to his jaw, slowly tipping his chin up to look back at you. “If hell is where you are, then I’m packing all of my bags to be with you.”

“Y/N…”

“Or maybe they have it the wrong way around,” you continued. “Cause you definitely feel like heaven to me. Maybe it’s not their definition of the place. But screw them – my heaven is all tattooed up and gorgeous.”

A blush coloured his cheek, and he moved closer to rest his forehead on your shoulder, his legs bracketing yours. You were tangled up in each other, silently sitting in the kitchen for a few minutes, Ashton’s hand on your thighs while you played with the hair at the nape of his neck. Then he slowly pulled back, rubbing his eyes – was it tears, or sleep, you didn’t know – and looked back at you again.

“Your parents still hate me,” he added, resting his elbow on the table, leaning his head against his hand.

“They hate everyone,” you answered with a shrug. “They even hate me. That’s not an accomplishment.”

“I’m sure they would prefer anyone else over me,” he searched you with his eyes. “Someone who can give you a real future.”

“What do you think, what does a girl need?” you quirked an eyebrow at him, and it was his turn to shrug.

“Financial security?” he asked, and when you rolled your eyes at him, he continued. “Someone like that guy you work with – what’s his name? Liam?”

“A suit and tie?” you shook your head, putting your hands on his knees to lean closer. “Really, Ash? When I can have you, your jackets and chains, and the fire red Mustang? Well, tough luck, because you’re stuck with me for good.”

“But am I enough for you?” Ashton sighed, reaching for you and holding your face in his hands, making you really look at each other. “I wanna give you the world. Hell, I wanna give you the galaxy. The universe. But I’m just this guy, fixing cars and running my mouth at people. And you… you’re smart and beautiful and could get anyone you set your eyes on.”

“And that’s you,” you nuzzled your face against his hand, looking at him pleadingly. “You’re the only one I want.”

“What if Liam asked you on a date? Or one of the guys at that course? What if you get along so much that you realize that you could just… do better than me?” his gaze slipped down to the ring resting against your chest, saying the next words looking at it. “You know I would do anything for you… but I know I can’t keep you forever.”

“Ash, how long have we known each other?” you asked, reaching for him, brushing his hair behind his ear.

“7 or 8 years. Dunno. Why is that important now?” he sighed, shaking his head.

“What do you think… how many guys did I date during that time?” you questioned him, but did not wait for an answer. “Only two. And you wanna know their names?”

“Please don’t kick me when I’m already down,” he whispered, but you’ve had enough.

“They are Fletcher and Ashton. They are you, Ash. I might have had a few flings and one night stands, and sure, I went on a few dates with guys. But it was only ever you I had a real thing with. It was only you who was ever good enough for me.”

“Then why did you even go on those dates if you didn’t want anything from them?” the question left Ashton before he could stop himself, and you could see him flinch when he realized what he’d said.

“I wanted to know how I felt about other people. I wanted to give myself a chance, see how we could work out. You know – if you never try, you’ll never know,” you shrugged a little while reaching for his hand, slowly interlocking your fingers with his. “And I– I think I wanted to know how you would react.”

“Remember the hole in the wall?” he quirked an eyebrow at you, and you needed to stifle a laugh.

“I was always waiting for you to show up during your dates,” you confessed, squeezing his hand in yours. “You know, just crash them. I wanted you to crash them. I know it took me a long time to let you in…”

“Well, half the time you were mad at me,” he said, leaning closer and resting his forehead against yours. “For one reason, or the other.”

“And in the other half I desperately wanted you to kiss me,” you finished, nuzzling your nose to his.

“You know I would have done it in a second,” he breathed. “I wanted to walk up to every single one of those guys and tell them that you’re… that you’re…”

“Come on,” you whispered, licking your lips. “Say it.”

“Mine.”

“Don’t think I was never asked on dates at my job or at school,” you gazed at him while saying the next part. “I was, numerous times. You know what I say to them when they call me pretty? Thank you, my boyfriend thinks so too. Or when they invite me for coffee? Thanks, but Ash is already bringing me some. And when they don’t want to let it go, I say: trust me, you do not want to meet him.”

“Are you really saying those things?” he asked you, and you nodded.

“I’m also implying that I’m having the best sex of my life, and I don’t plan on giving up on that,” you finished with a smile.

A moment later Ashton started laughing – it was his first real laugh of the night, and he hid his face, trying to stifle his giggles. It was the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. Suddenly the night wasn’t that dark, but instead everything seemed to start to glow a little bit. It was Ashton’s smile, shining through the blacks, dark blues and grays of the night, warming up the chilling air around you, shifting everything back to your usual teasing, but loving normal, the one you’ve built up together.

“I love your smile,” you whispered when he finally looked back at you, still trying to catch his breath. “I know I’ve always told you that you should wipe that grin off of your face, but god, I’m happy you never did. I just… there are so many things I just love about you that I’ve thought I hated before. Like your snake tattoo, or your loud car and obnoxious sunglasses… your terrible jokes and sexual innuendos, and how you never fail to say them at the worst times… I love your stupid red hair, and…”

“My hair is not stupid,” Ash mumbled, a smile still playing at the corner of his mouth.

“No,” you shook your head, reaching once again for him to brush your fingers through his red locks. “No, it’s not.”

Ash nuzzled closer, closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy the caresses and light tugs on his hair, making a small noise that almost sounded like purring. He turned his head, brushing his lips against your wrist as you wrapped a curl around your finger, pushing it behind his ear, stroking your hand down his cheek and jaw. Hazel eyes followed the movement of your fingers until you ran your thumb over his chin, and his gaze finally found yours.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked him softly, pulling back a little to see his face.

“Are you asking for permission?” there was another small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and a slight blush coloured his cheeks.

“Just checking if you are in the right headspace,” you returned his smile, and he nodded shortly.

“I would love that.”

Without a second thought you leaned forward, one of your hands sliding up the back of his neck and into his hair, the other one cradling his jaw, tilting his head a little to the side. His breath was hot on your face as you moved closer, cheeks and noses brushing, lips slowly pressing against each other – one soft, the other slightly chapped. You kissed his bottom lip, moving to the top, nuzzling closer and closer, until he opened his mouth and let you kiss him deeper, brushing his tongue against yours as you both tasted the other. Ash made a needy little sound as you nipped on his lips and kissed his chin, his jaw, brushing against his cheek as you nudged your nose against the soft skin behind his ear.

“I chose you, Ashton. I’ve been choosing you every single day since that night on the beach, and I’ll do it as long as you let me. I’m freakin’ in love with you if that hasn't been clear before,” you breathed softly, kissing the shell of his ear. “You’ve been on my mind for the last 8 years, and if that’s not love, then you have to find a better word for me, because I’m failing here, and you know I’m good with words. But you just have this effect on you where I completely lose my sanity, and I would gladly give up on it forever, if it meant I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Ash reached for you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you out of your chair, and sitting you on his lap. His hand rested on your thigh, keeping you close to his body, as his fingers ran through your hair, guiding your face to his again. It was his turn to kiss you, and he started with the softest of touches, just to feel each other’s breath on your lips, the warmness of the other’s skin, the shiver running through you when you’ve finally lost your patience. Noses and lips pushed together, and he kissed you deeply, tongue brushing against yours as you were holding onto his shoulders. His scent clouded your mind, his touch burnt your skin, and you never wanted this moment to end.

“I love you,” Ash pulled away just enough to brush his lips against yours as he spoke. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You pressed another kiss on his temple, cuddling closer in his lap to feel as much of his skin as you could. His arms wrapped around you more strongly, and he rested his head on your shoulder, pushing his face into your neck. For a few minutes you’ve stayed like this – slow caresses on waists and backs, fingers brushing over hair and tattoos, lips leaving small kisses wherever they could.

“Come on,” you ran your thumb over Ashton’s cheek. “I think it’s time we go back to bed.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to keep you away from your studying,” he started apologizing, but you shook your head, smiling at him.

“Screw exams. You’ll always be my first priority,” you tugged a little on his hair, tilting his head up towards you. “How does that sound to you?”

“Like something I’ve always wanted from you,” Ash returned your smile, then reached for your hand to kiss your knuckles. “Thank you, beautiful.”

You climbed down from his lap and reached for him to pull him up from the chair. You made our way back to the bedroom where the sheets were freshly changed and the pillows fluffed up just as Ashton liked it. He hesitated for a moment – the nightmare was still fresh in his mind, and even after you’ve talked through everything, he was still a little bit shaken from it.

“It’s alright,” you leaned against his side, pressing a kiss on the tattoo on his arm. “I’m here now.”

“I’m– scared to fall back to sleep,” he admitted, then sighed deeply. “It’s stupid, I know.”

“No, Ash. It’s perfectly normal,” you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Don’t ever feel ashamed, especially not because of your dreams. You’re human, it’s okay to fall sometimes. I’ll always be here to pick you up.”

“How did I get so lucky?” he turned to you, gathering you in his arms for a hug, resting his head on top of yours.

“Must have been that lucky charm of yours,” you answered with a smile, feeling the ring resting between your bodies.

“You are my lucky charm,” Ashton whispered, brushing the hair back from your face.

“Well, then you should definitely hold onto me.”

He huffed at you with a smile, shaking his head. You pulled him down on the bed, both of you getting comfortable under the blankets – Ash scooted as close to you as he could, nuzzling his face between your head and shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him, letting him rest his weight on you, running your fingers through his hair.

“You smell so good,” he mumbled against your skin, pushing his nose to your pulse point. “Am I not too heavy?”

“You’re perfect where you are,” you continued brushing your fingers over his curls, skimming them over the back of his neck, down his shoulders, then back up again. “How are you feeling?”

“Like maybe I will be able to fall asleep,” he breathed, then reached for the ring hanging from your neck. “Is it okay if I stay like this?”

“Your peace of mind is worth every numb limb and hours spent awake,” you kissed his forehead, then the hand holding onto the ring. “You would do the same for me. And just so you know, you make an excellent pillow.”

“You too,” he closed his eyes, resting his hand back on your side, cuddling close. “Will you… will you hold my hand? Please?”

Without another word you slid your fingers against his, interlocking them. He squeezed your hand in return, letting out one last sigh as he slowly let go of all the tension that kept him awake. His body melted against yours, muscles relaxing as his breathing evened out, and in a few minutes all you could feel was his light snoring tickling your neck. You brushed your fingers through his hair again, pressing one last goodnight kiss on his forehead before resting back against your pillows.

Ashton slept soundly in your arms, head resting on your shoulder, arm thrown over your waist, fingers interlocked on the bed. He fit perfectly against you, his weight all the comfort you needed in your life. You would have stayed up all night just to make sure he had no more nightmares, but his soft sleepy sounds slowly lulled you to sleep too. The last thing you remembered was his lips brushing against your neck as he shuffled in his sleep, and you fell asleep with a smile on your face. You knew for sure he was your forever – and you planned on reminding him of that every single day for the rest of your lives. Even if it meant chasing away his nightmares every night. Because he was worth it.

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