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#my little playlists... my little playlists...
propertyofwicked · 2 days
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FIRST - LN
lando discovers his bestfriends little sister is a virgin, and will stop at no lengths to change that (and ruin her for anyone else)
warnings: smut!! MDNI!! virgin reader, fewtrell!sister, mostly soft smut with a small innocence kink
✧ it's officially assignment szn and ur girl is STRESSED. my posts wont be as frequent for a while but i am currently creating a backlog of things to post! ✧
masterlist the playlist
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“ok, y/n - truth or dare?” ria asked the girl from across the circle they sat in on the floor of max’s living room.
being so close in age to her older brother, y/n fewtrell fit in well with his friendship group, often preferring to hang out with them over her own friends. a few others were dotted around the house, P and a couple girls using the kitchen. they were all due to head to a club soon, only using max’s house to pre drink as he lived closest.
“truth,” she responded, giggling slightly as the alcohol began to turn her tipsy - not drunk, just jolly she had told max when he last checked on her.
“where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?” ria asked, giggling to herself at the rest of the group laughed, turning to face y/n for her answer. she went silent, heat rising her face gradually. her eyes scanned the group, everyone staring expectantly at her - only max avoided her gaze, looking at his phone to queue songs to the playlist.
“i- uh, well i guess i…haven’t?” she replied, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. she didn’t know why she was so embarrassed - she was 19, almost 20, and it seemed that everyone around her was coupled up, or at least active in that department. and, it hadn’t been through lack of trying, every man she had almost been with had found out and used it to get to who she was related to - and subsequently, lando - or gave her the ick before they got the chance to.
“what do you mean you haven’t?!” niran had laughed out, he hadn’t meant to laugh, he just couldn’t believe it.
“i ju-”
“ok can we stop quizzing my little sister on her sex life? please,” max interrupted, y/n sighing out a breath of relief when they finally moved to the next person. her eyes scouted across the group of people, glad to see them all distracted and no longer giving her the sympathy eyes over her pathetic excuse of a love life.
in her embarrassment, however, y/n missed the way lando’s eyes had darted to look at her when she had answered, missing the way they darkened slightly at the revelation. he shook the thoughts plaguing his mind away, focusing on keeping his face neutral as he watched the blush rising her cheeks.
she didn’t miss the way his eyes followed her as she snuck out the room, however. she’d hope no one would notice her sneaking into the kitchen, smiling at P before swiping a bottle of something and heading to the garden, legs landing gracefully to sit on a step.
this was not the first time she had dwelled on this, but this time, she could at least comfort the blow of her overactive brain by drinking - or so she thought. as not a moment after she’d removed the cap, the bottle was being snatched from her hands and closely inspected by a man towering above her crouched body.
“this smells like ass, y/n - are you sure you wanna drink it?” lando asked her, lowering himself to sit on the step next to her. the sky was darkening, stars filling the vast blackness.
“yes im sure, thanks dad,” she mocked him, arms reaching over to snatch the bottle from him, but once again, he moved his arm out, stretching the bottle further from her reach.
“nuh uh!” lando said, shaking his head, “only when you tell me why you intend on drinking what im sure is the finest bottle of… £3.99 vodka - jesus, £3.99?”
“sorry mister ‘owns-2-mclarens-and-a-lambo’,” she replied, leaning further into his side in a desperate bid to get the bottle back - she wasn’t even sure she wanted to drink it anymore, she just wanted something to fiddle with when lando eventually forced her to talk to him.
“didn’t answer my question, darlin’” he told her, placing the bottle besides him as he removed one of his threaded bracelets, placing it in her exposed palm.
oh he knew her a little too well.
“i jus- no it’s so stupid,” she conceded, the bracelet twisting around her fingers. she stared directly at it, refusing to meet lando’s intense gaze.
“bet it’s not,” he told her, moving an arm to wrap around her when he felt the chill air brush his own skin.
“you know what’s worse than having to announce to your friends that you’re a lonely little virgin that no one wants? being the lonely little virgin. it’s so fucking embarrassing - i’m 19, hell i’m nearly 20 and when everyone around you has someone in their life, it’s so hard not to feel so behind in your own life, to feel completely unlovable, to constantly feel like there’s something wrong with you,” she breathed out, still refusing to make eye contact with the man besides her.
lando took in a deep breath, choosing his next words so carefully. his hand reached up to her chin, turning her face to look up at his.
“y/n, you are not unlovable, you’re not falling behind in life and there is certainly nothing wrong with you,” he told her, his tone harsh in attempt to knock some sense into her. she shook her head at him in disbelief, his hand dropping back to his side.
“see, i really want to believe you but the evidence isn’t really stacking up in support of your argument. if that was true, i probably wouldn’t be sat in my brother’s back garden throwing myself a pity party.”
“i think your brother might’ve had a part to play in this, if im honest y/n,” lando said, slipping up slightly. she paused at his words, before her head shot round to look at him again.
“what? what do you mean max has something do with the fact no one wants me?”
“it’s not that no one wants you, y/n,” he sighed at her again before giving in, realising he’d already said too much to stop now, “it’s just that max has a bad habit of… threatening anyone who even mentions you in that way?” he added, his tone making it sound like he wasn’t even sure himself.
“threatening them?” she repeated, anger beginning to bubble up in her stomach.
“he’s only actually hit 2 of them - hell even ive had a close call with his fist a few times,” lando laughed, before realising what he’d indirectly admitted to. luckily, neither of them had time to dwell on it before the man in question popped his head round the door.
“what are you two losers doing out here?” he joked, before sensing some tension being thrown his way, “whatever, we’re leaving in a minute if you wanna get ready?”
“no thanks,” y/n told him, pushing herself up and beginning to walk past him.
“huh?” max replied, confused.
“i said, no thanks. wouldn’t wanna risk you punching anyone who shows the slightest interest in me,” she added, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at him. she turned quickly on her heel, walking off, ignoring the group as she trailed up to the spare bedroom.
the two boys shared a look between them, lando’s face holding that of apology whilst max’s was gradually moving to infuriated.
“what did you tell her?” max asked him, jaw clenching slightly.
“i didn’t mean to,” lando replied, throwing his arms out slightly as he stood up, “i just thought she ought to know that the reason boys don’t go for her is not because she is completely unlovable.”
“she said that?” max asked, startled slightly at the comment, “she thought she was unlovable?”
lando said nothing, throwing a simple nod at him before brushing past him and making his way to the front door.
y/n laid in her bed, her mind racing through the conversation with lando, like a record on repeat. she’d heard the rest of them leave the house almost an hour ago, leaving her to lay with her own thoughts once more.
there was nothing wrong with her, max just threatened anyone who came too close to her.
max had punched 2 guys who had tried to get with her.
max had tried to punch lando - wait, why had he tried to punch lando?
the sound of the front door opening, then quickly shutting again drew her from her thoughts, a natural panic spreading through her veins.
“hello?” she called out, confused as to who could be walking in the house right now. there was no response for a moment, the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs filled the silence.
“it’s just me, baby,” a voice called out, the childhood nickname letting her know it was lando approaching her bedroom. the name used to be max and lando’s attempt to tease the girl, calling her a baby when she cried after dropping her ice cream. that was when she was 7, but 13 years later, the nickname still stuck. somewhere along the line, the name had turned from mimicking to a term of endearment, blurring the lines of their friendship every time he called out to her.
“oh thank god, i thought you were a murderer,” she joked, her breathing easing as his head poked around the door, eyes meeting hers.
“you thought i was a murderer and chose to shout ‘hello’? brave, or stupid?” lando joked back.
“never let them know your next move,” y/n replied with a shrug, before noticing the way one of lando’s hands remained hidden behind the door, “whatcha got there?” she asked him, the way one would ask a dog who had something they shouldn’t.
“depends, are you gonna be nice to me?” he shot back.
“me? im always nice to you, lan,” an innocent smile built on her face.
“tell that to the scar on my back.”
“tell the scar on your back to get over it, it was 10 years ago,” she snorted as he moved further into the door frame.
“no ice cream for you then,” lando replied, smirking at her as he shrugged.
“you got ice cream?” she asked, eyes widening at him.
“thought you might wanna watch a film and forget about tonight with a flurry.”
“gimme,” y/n said, making grabby hands that would’ve been embarrassing had she not already had the worst night of her life.
“nuh uh, not until you’re nice to m-”
“oh get over here you drama queen,” she groaned at him, patting the spot next to her on the bed. lando would never say no to her, giving in so easily as he climbed under the blanket, an arm falling naturally behind her head as he did.
he began fiddling with the tv remote, scrolling through netflix for something to watch. y/n leant further into his embrace, her head settling lightly on his chest as she looked up at him.
“lan - why didn’t you stay at the club?” she asked quietly, fighting the urge to fiddle with her fingers, nervous at the thought of insinuating that he’d want to spend his evening with her instead.
“clubs are only good when you’re drunk,” lando replied with a shrug, eyes still focused on the tv, “id rather just be the designated driver and still be able to get up for training in the morning.”
his eyes flitted down at her quickly, glad she’d returned her gaze to the screen as if he’d seen her wide eyes staring up at him, lando doubted he’d be able to control himself. what she’d revealed earlier still flew around his brain as he fought desperately to shake away any thoughts of taking her innocence, ruining her for anyone else. god, he felt like a creep.
the two fell into a comfortable silence, both of them appearing to focus on the film playing in front of them. lando’s hand remained tightly around her waist, his hand moving beneath her shirt slightly for his fingers to trace circles into her skin. her head remained on his chest, each breath taking in the lingering smell of his aftershave.
“lan?” she broke the silence again, looking up at him once again.
“yes, baby?” he replied, eyes never straying from the screen.
“what did you mean earlier when you said max had even tried to punch you?”
his head shot down to look at her, feeling himself crumble slightly as her eyes stared widely up at him, her tired voice drawing him further into the trap. he could lie, tell her it was a misunderstanding. or he could tell her the truth, and pray it didn’t destroy his entire friendship with the fewtrell siblings.
“when you told me i wasn’t unlovable earlier, you really meant…” she asked, filling in for his silence. she trailed off at the end of her sentence, unwilling to get her hopes up.
“yeah.. so about that,” he said, trying to regain his confidence. she hit at his chest lightly, pushing herself to sit up and look at his face clearer than ever.
“how long?” she asked him with unwavering eye contact.
“longer than i want to admit,” lando replied, smiling at her awkwardly, “and i understand if you don’t fe-”
“kiss me.”
“wha-”
“you heard me,” she told him before joining their lips apprehensively. it started off slow, both testing the waters before falling into a steady pace. his tongue swiped her bottom lip softly, deepening the kiss as his hand raised to hold her jaw. she stifled a moan, embarrassed at the way her body was reacting to the slightest touch.
“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he told her, hands dropping to her waist, “come ‘ere.”
lando’s hands settled on her hips, fingers gripping at them slightly to guide her onto his lap. as she settled into the new position, he kissed her again, gentle in the way he pulled her in closer, his free hand disappearing under her shirt to draw circles into her skin once more. her hips instinctively rolled into his at the feeling, and he gripped at her skin harder, a small groan escaping his mouth.
“fuck, keep that up and i won’t be able to stop,” he warned her as she rolled her hips again. his head dropped to her jaw, pressing soft kisses along the skin.
“what if i don’t want this to stop?” she asked him, causing him to pause, looking up at her softly.
“are you sure?” he asking, checking her face for any sign of hesitancy. she nodded at him before speaking.
“there’s no one i trust more.”
with her reassurance, lando flipped the top of them over, trailing kisses down her neck as he hovered above her.
“we’ll go slow,” he told her as he pulled at her t-shirt, tugging the fabric up her torso, “wanted this for so long. gonna take my time with you,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to the skin of her stomach. her back arched into him slightly, helping him remove her top fully. y/n felt exposed, more so than usual. had it not been for lando’s large hands snaking up to grab at her breasts, she would’ve used her own to shield her nudity.
“so gorgeous,” he mumbled again, before dipping his head to take one of her nipples in his mouth, tongue flicking at it, his fingers tugged at the other. he pushed himself back up, re joining their lips in a sweet kiss.
“gonna make you feel good, alright?” he asked her, watching the way her head nodded at him, “yeah? need you to use your words from now on baby.”
“think you should take your top off now,” she told him, her confidence returning slightly, “seems a bit unfair,” she added, jokingly pointing at her own exposed chest.
“so it is,” he agreed, sitting back on his knees as his hands gripped the bottom of his own t-shirt, lifting it over his head. the material landed on the floor, but y/n couldn’t care less - she was much more focused on the way his muscles looked, a combination of his tan and the soft fairy lights illuminating his features in a way that had her stomach rolling for him.
“oi! my eyes are up here,” he joked, settling himself between her legs. lando’s hands trailed up the exposed skin of her thighs, dragging his fingers slowly. her hips jutted up slightly at the sensation, a satisfied smirking fighting its way onto lando’s face.
“this ok?” he asked her, hands toying with the waistband of her shorts.
“yeah,” she breathed out, anticipation beginning to get the better of her as he began pulling the material away from her heat.
“tell me to stop and i’ll stop,” lando told her, discarding her shorts with his top, before adjusting his gaze to her, “just relax f’me. breathe,” he added, noticing the way her chest had frozen, breath caught in her throat. a finger ran through her folds softly, her hips rolling slightly at the sudden feeling of his rough finger pad circling her clit. his movements stopped for a moment as he moved back up her body, kissing her softly as he gathered her slick along his fingers.
“so wet for me,” he told her, kissing at her jaw, “gonna get you ready for me, ok?”
“please, lan,” she begged, panting slightly as his fingers circled her heat again, pressing into her slightly. it’s not like she hadn’t done this before on herself, which was potentially her downfall the moment he pressed a finger into her, the stretch unexpected. lando’s face pressed into her neck, kissing a trail along the skin as he pumped his finger a few times. he could hear every noise she made for him so clearly, drawing him to push a second finger into her, feeling the way her walls clamped around him.
“im ready, lan, please just fuck me,” she begged him, panting in between her words. he could’ve passed out her words, blood rushing from his brain and straight to his cock. his body pushed back up, standing quickly to remove the rest of his clothes. her hands halted him as they reached out and grabbed at the waist band of his joggers, pulling them down slowly as the pressure of his cock strained against the tight material. he helped her remove them fully, her spare hand adding difficulty as she palmed him through his boxers.
“fuck, angel,” he groaned, careful not to overwhelm her as she pulled at his boxers, tugging them down as she had his joggers. however they soon established his noises were not as overwhelming as the size of his cock - her eyes widening as she came face to face with it, her finger running down the thick vein that travelled his length.
“like what you see?” he joked in attempt to ease her nerves.
“how-? is that gonna fit?” she stuttered, gaze travelling down to her stomach as if she were trying to size herself up.
“im sure we’ll make it work,” he replied, hand reaching to her chin, forcing her to look back up at him, “remember, we can stop whenever.”
she nodded at him, before reaching up, looping her arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. he used the leverage to lay her back down, hovering over her once again as he rested on his forearm. without breaking the kiss, he reached down, guiding his cock through her folds a few times before settling the tip at her entrance.
“you sure?” lando checked again, searching her face for any last minute apprehension.
“are you sure?” she retorted, her smile illuminated by the moons glow, “can’t imagine fucking a virgin is high on your bucket list.”
“you’d be surprised,” he responded, mumbling slightly, his cock throbbed in his hand. he began lowering his hips, pushing into her slowly, low grunts falling from his lips as he disappeared further inside her.
“breathe baby, breathe for me,” he told her, feeling the way her body had tensed, her chest stilling as she inhaled deeply, “feel so good.”
lando waited a moment, watching the way her face softened, his necklace dangling dangerously around her lips. he started moving at a gentle pace, careful to listen to her responses.
“feels good,” she told him, eyes looking into his.
“yeah? ‘my the first person to make you feel good?” he asked, baiting her slightly.
“yes, fuck lan. only you.”
he close to lost it, his brain short circuiting at her words. he began to move faster in her, relishing in the way she moaned his name, her walls contracting around his cock. his hand reached between the two of them, fingers flicking at her clit before drawing pressured circles around her heat.
“faster, lan, please,” y/n begged him, her hand raising to tug at his curls.
“gonna ruin you for anyone else, angel,” he grunted, hips snapping into hers at a brutal pace, his eyes focused on the way her breasts moved in unison with his thrusts.
lando felt his high coming quicker than he could ever remember, feeling the way her grip on his bicep tightened and her breathing became more sporadic letting him know she was close too.
“you wanna cum with me?” he asked her, his tone soft whilst his pace remained rough, his fingers beginning to trace his own name on her clit. it gave him a sense of ownership over her, an invisible trace of him that would linger on her sensitivity forever - and she loved it, whining at the feeling of his skin on hers.
“please, fuck. wanna cum,” she told him, eyes shutting as her head rolled back. lando’s head dropped to her exposed neck, his teeth nipping at the skin before he titled his head further, mouth landing on the flesh of her breast. he’d quickly realised that leaving visible mark on his best friends little sister was potentially not the smartest idea, choosing to nip at the skin of her tit, mouth sucking the flesh into his lips as he did. his raised himself up again, admiring the way blood ran to the surface of her skin, only imagining the way she’d look when a bruise formed on the spot.
“only me?” he asked her, hand moving to grip her jaw, dark eyes locking with hers.
“only you,” she replied in a breathless moan.
“good girl,” he said, feeling the way her hips rolled up into his, heat running through her entire body as her climax washed over her. y/n shook around him lightly, her stomach spasming as she rode out her high, but lando couldn’t stop and admire the view. he pulled out quickly, feeling his own high rising in his cock, both of their eyes glued on the way his cock shot out ropes of cum that landed on her stomach.
“so….” she started, trying to fill the somewhat awkward tension in the room.
“we are so doing that again,” he said with a chuckle and he moved to locate his joggers on the floor.
“oh absolutely,” she replied, laughing with him as the fear of him leaving her washed away, though her eyebrow quirked up at him as he shuffled to the door.
“just grabbing a cloth. gotta get you cleaned up so we can finish the film,” he added with a smile.
minutes later, they were both sat back in the bed, her legs thrown over his lap as one hand grazed the skin of his back lightly, lando’s hand running up and down her thigh in a similar fashion. they sat in a comfortable silence, knowing that eventually they would need to discuss the future of this, the future of them, but for now lando relished in the way her hand continuously stroked at the same spot on his back. the same spot - he internally questioned.
“watcha doing?” he finally asked, curious to her supposed fixation on his left shoulder blade.
“apologising to the scar on your back?” she retorted, circling back to their earlier conversation.
“never apologise for anything ever again,” he mumbled into her hair, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“what if i murdered your entire family?” she piped up.
“i support women’s rights and their wrongs.”
“preach.”
-
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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 hours
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Angel || LN4
Summary: Kingsday gets a little wild, in honour of Lando’s nose.
Warnings: alcohol, injuries, blood
WC: 1.7k
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Lando wasn’t drunk, but he was by no means sober either. Everyone had warned him the Kingsday event was a marathon not a sprint so he was taking it slow, sipping his rum and coke out of the orange paper cup while the river boat cruised its course.
By midafternoon it was another story completely.
Martin had taken a break and let a playlist continue the party without him on the deck while he went in search of Lando. The British driver had reached the point of being tipsy and fallen into a state of drunkenness where he could no longer block out his intrusive thoughts. Everywhere he looked couples were dancing or making out and he couldn’t help the despair of loneliness that separated him from the fun.
Leaning back on the cushions that covered the bow, Lando looked up to the bright blue sky and wondered why he couldn’t find someone that loved him with the same passion he had. He was always the one to fall harder and knew it was why things didn’t work out long-term.
The half empty cup was stolen from his hand and Lando lolled his head to see Martin drinking it dry. “No more for you, my friend. Smile! It’s Kingsday: the sun is out and the music is loud.”
“Sorry,” Lando sighed, not quite able to muster up a real smile.
“What’s wrong?” Martin dropped onto a cushion beside him and nudged his shoulder until Lando spilled the thoughts he was harbouring.
“These heels are killing me,” you complained as they wobbled on the cobblestone. “Can we stop for a minute?”
There were groans from some of the guys in the group but their girlfriends silenced them. You smiled gratefully at your friends but knew they were in just as much pain after hours of drinking in the city for Kingsday. The thought of walking any further to the house party someone had invited everyone to nearly had you calling for a taxi, despite the chances of getting one next to nothing.
“Lennon said there will be tons of single guys at the party. In that dress you will totally pull a 10,” Sarah said as she leaned back against the bridge rail and rolled each ankle to ease the ache.
You laughed at the statement and mirrored her position, careful not to drop the glass you had accidentally stolen from the last bar. “Getting laid isn’t the problem, it’s getting the guy to stick around afterwards.”
“Relationships are overrated,” she said, blowing a kiss to Lennon when he looked her way and raised a brow. “Not ours, baby.”
You sighed longingly as they shared a smile. “I want what you guys have.”
“Well then you better hurry up because the love of your life might just be waiting for you. Wouldn’t want to miss that, would you?”
You rolled your eyes but decided that you would continue the walk barefoot and put your heels back on when you got to the house. Leaning against the rail, you balanced on one foot and reached for your heel just as a drunkard went flying past on his e-bike.
“Ah, shit!” you screamed as you lost your balance, toppling back over the rail and straight towards the murky water below.
Martin yawned as he listened to Lando’s long winded explanation for why he was alone and all his friends were in relationships.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was putting you to sleep,” he sassed.
“Well if you want some advice, from someone in a relationship, you’re not helping yourself moping around. For starters, you need to get up,” Martin encouraged as he rose to his feet and offered his friend a hand before the sunlight disappeared, the boat passing under one of the many bridges. “Love isn’t going to just fall into your lap-”
A scream pierced the air before a flurry of orange material crashed onto Lando, both their eyes squinting to readjust to the bright sunlight out of the tunnel.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you realised you were still alive and you looked around to see what had broken your fall. “Holy shit, I am so sorry!”
A stunned man sat beneath you and you reached for his face as you noticed the blood running down his nose. “Oh my god, did I do that? Are you alright? Shit, you probably don’t speak English.”
“He speaks English. It’s getting him to shut up that’s the problem,” a man standing above you said with a laugh. “Lando, mate, snap out of it.”
You started to climb off his lap but his arms tightened around you and he shook his head with a wince. “Don’t move, you might have broken something.”
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you apologised again.
“Not me, you muppet,” he laughed. “You might have broken something.”
You patted yourself down, straightening your dress back into place at the same time, but everything felt fine. You tested your wrists and ankles too, only to notice you had indeed broken things.
“What’s the damage?” Lando asked.
“Ego mostly,” you admitted sheepishly. “I think I broke my heel on your face.”
“Pretty sure that was your glass,” he said looking at what remained in your hand, the sting of the cut on your palm finally appearing when you noticed the blood on the broken glass. “How bad is it? Am I hideous?”
“You are still a 10,” you giggled after noticing he was devastatingly handsome, even with the cut across his nose. Grabbing the hem of your dress, you gently dabbed the blood away before realising that it was a stupid idea. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”
“Rabies,” his friend joked.
“Speak for yourself, mate,” Lando shot back and while they bickered jokingly you heard your name called from the river bank. “Is that your boyfriend?”
“Are you alive?” Lennon shouted as he ran along with the boat.
“Nope, I’ve died and gone to heaven!”
“I’ll let Sarah know!” He grew smaller as he stopped running and the boat continued downstream to some unknown destination.
“That’s my best friend’s boyfriend,” you explained as you patted your bra but found your phone missing. “Can I borrow your phone? I think mine drowned.”
Lando carefully shifted you so he could get to his pocket before settling you back on his lap. The grateful smile you gave him almost made him drop the device and he had to enter his passcode in twice before he got it right.
“Where is this boat heading to?�� you asked as the dial tone connected. “Hey, it’s me, calm down, I’m alive.”
“Good, I’ll kill you myself! You gave me a fucking heart attack, woman!” You had to hold the phone away from your ear as she shouted her concern.
“I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m sorry for giving you a heart attack.”
“As you should be! Len said you landed on some guy. Is he hot?”
Your face heated and you knew he had heard the question with the curious look on his face. “Mhmm, very.”
“You should invite him to the party and do a little sexy dance for him!”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I kind of…broke his face.”
The silence was damning before you swore you heard her laugh from all the way upstream. “Only you could have the worst luck with men.”
“Trust me, I know all too well. Anyway, they are stopping at the Rose Bridge so I’ll just meet you guys there. Guess my luck isn’t all that bad.”
You ended the call and handed the phone back.
“What party are you going to?” Lando asked as he pocketed it again.
“I don’t know, it’s some house party. There’s a local DJ playing.”
Lando’s smile grew and he pointed to his friend. “Local DJ, ha!”
As it turned out the house party wasn’t actually a party at someone’s house and the DJ wasn’t just locally renowned. Once you were finally introduced to Lando’s friend you found out he was the DJ, Martin Garrix, and Lando was even more famous.
“I can’t afford a lawsuit,” you groaned when you realised you had practically assaulted a celebrity.
“It’s just a scratch,” Lando assured you after Martin found a first aid kick. His poor attempt at wrapping a bandage made Lando look like a mummy so you took the box yourself and found a couple of small butterfly stitches. “Nothing a kiss wouldn’t fix.”
You giggled at his flirty nature you had come to adore in the last hour and if you hadn’t drunk so much liquid courage at the bar you probably wouldn't have been able to lean closer and kiss his cheek. His skin was warm and soft beneath your lips and when you opened your eyes you found his blue eyes staring intently back. “Better?”
He shook his head. “Nope, I think it needs another try.”
“Hmmm, good idea.” You kissed his other cheek and grinned when he pouted. “No? One last try.”
Your fingers delighted in the feel of his soft hair as you combed the curls and dipped your head to his. Your heart rate spiked and you closed your eyes as you kissed his pillow-soft lips teasingly slowly before his hands cupped your face and he deepened the kiss.
You broke away with a small gasp and your eyes were wide with the want for more. It was a look reflected on Lando’s face as he gently stroked your heated cheeks.
“Hey, lovebirds! We’re here,” Martin called as the boat reached the canal edge.
You kicked off your broken heels and Lando frowned before he gave you his, looping his fingers into the straps of your shoes to carry them. You were already wearing his shirt since your dress had his blood on it and you were certain you looked at absolute mess.
“Ready to party, Angel?”
“Angel?”
“What else would I call a beautiful woman who fell from the heavens?” Lando wondered if he was making a mistake and moving to fast like he always did but it was too late, the question was already out there.
“You could call me your girlfriend.” You cringed in an instant. “I mean not tonight, that would be way too quick but-”
Lando cut you off with a kiss and you felt his smile against your lips before he asked, “How about tomorrow?”
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lowpolyparrot · 2 days
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🌈[INTRODUCTION POST]🌈
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>>> Who am I?
Hi I'm Bug! I'm an amateur 3D artist and animator who focuses on a low-poly and colorful style. My pronouns are he/him, it/its and they/them.
I also accept donations, my ko-fi page is: https://ko-fi.com/lowpolyparrot
>>> Some facts about me:
My fursona is a bunny plushie and their name is RGBun
My favorite color is magenta
My favorite music artist is Windows96 and my favorite band is King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard
I mostly listen to vaporwave, psych rock, psybient and prog
>>> Q&A
What program do you use?
Blender for pretty much everything except painting textures, I use Krita for that.
Do you take commissions?
Not at the moment, I'm a little too busy with studies so I don't have time for them. I will start taking some in the summer and I will make a post announcing it.
Can I use one of your pictures for edits/my website/projects/etc?
Yep, just don't claim it as your own and if you credit me it would be appreciated
How long have you been making 3D art?
Since the Spring of 2020, so around 4 years
Can you give me some tutorials please?
I started with the Blender Guru Donut tutorial and I recommend people start with that.
Low-poly ones? 👉👈
The Sickly Wizard is probably my favorite blender youtuber and has a playlist on the ps1 retro style which is what I started with after the donut tutorial. He also has a face rigging tutorial I really liked and it is what most of my face rigs are based on.
Stark Crafts has also a lot of good tutorials too
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ham1lton · 2 days
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TEN THINGS F1 DRIVER Y/N L/N CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT — GQ.
— part of my maneater series.
Y/N (throwing her hat in the air with one hand and catching it in the other without looking): see? told you i could do it! not my only party trick.
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Y/N: hi gq! i’m y/n l/n, formula one driver and i’m here to show you my ten essentials.
NUMBER ONE: IPAD
Y/N: first, has to be my ipad. this was my first big purchase and seeing my bank account being drained of that money almost caused a heart attack. but this bad boy helps me to organise my life, stops me from being bored on flights, keeps me in contact with my family and lets me write my notes. so yeah, thanks apple. also you guys should sponsor me.
NUMBER TWO: NOISE CANCELLING HEADPHONES
Y/N: i never used to travel a lot. when i was younger, my family couldn’t afford it so flying around a lot was a big shock to my system. obviously as in f1, drivers are required to fly to different races and it means i had to get over my fear of flying. these help a lot with that. these plus a spotify playlist made by my angsty teenage self will make me forget about the fact i’m flying. these are my favourite ones, i have multiple pairs just in case.
NUMBER TWO AND A HALF: MUSIC.
Y/N: i guess this sort of goes off the second one? but music. i keep trying to bribe the engineers to build a blue tooth radio in the car but to no avail. spotify has been my biggest supporter all of these years. i know i’m sponsored by them now but i have been using my account for almost seven years now? so my algorithm is perfection. it truly has helped me so much. i listen to music on the way to races, on the way back from races, in my house, outside my house, cleaning, cooking and even when i’m in the shower. yes, i’m a shower singer. once i get in there, i’m beyoncé!
OFF SCREEN VOICE: what was the last song you listened to?
Y/N: one second, let me see. it was the twilight soundtrack in particular decode by paramore. told you i was an angsty teen!
NUMBER THREE: EMERGENCY BAG
Y/N: okay this sounds bad, it’s not as much an emergency bag as in like medical supplies but more so like extra toothbrush, toothpaste, menstrual products, lotion and other stuff like that. i always carry this with me anywhere in case my suitcase goes missing. it has helped me and my friends out so many times so it’s definitely an essential for me.
NUMBER FOUR: HER CAMERAS.
Y/N: i picked up photography relatively recently and this was the starter camera that the guy in the shop recommended. so this is that camera. for this one, i vlog, which you guys might have seen and this is the camera i use for those videos. i actually don’t record my videos, one of my friends or family or colleagues or whoever will film and i will be in front of the camera. it’s my favourite part when i ask the camera person to reveal themselves and they do their own little introduction. i obviously provide the camera for it. which is this beauty right here.
OFF SCREEN VOICE: who has been your favourite person to film you?
Y/N: i have had a lot of people film me. my most recent being rihanna for my recent holiday vlog! so many people to the point that i genuinely don’t think i could choose a favourite. i mean, i’ve had my sister do it a lot so i guess i can choose her. she knows my angles best!
NUMBER FIVE: LIPGLOSS
Y/N: when i won my first championship and i kissed the camera, the amount of calls from makeup companies my manager received was actually obscene. i think i got so many comments on social media asking what makeup i use and how it stays on throughout the race! to be honest, i don’t always wear makeup but in the original video, i was wearing this fenty gloss. it’s in the shade fu$$y. so, yeah, at least no one can call me a gatekeeper! i always keep it on me. i feel a little more ready to face the world with lipgloss. now, i have my own fenty collection! so check that out.
NUMBER SIX: HER LUCKY SHOES.
Y/N: okay i know i say i’m not necessarily a superstitious person but these shoes have been with me from f3 until now. every race i’ve worn these, i’ve won. so i like having them around. i think they bring luck. i can’t wear them any longer as they’ve worn through the soles now. really annoying but we power through.
NUMBER SEVEN: WINGSTOP BLACK CARD
Y/N: i was really craving wingstop one night. so me and my sister were in london? i think and i vlogged our hunt for wingstop and they reached out to me to give me a black card. i know, isn’t it gorgeous? i was so happy. too bad i have to cut down on what i eat thanks to my nutritionist, but my siblings and friends love this thing.
NUMBER EIGHT: SKINCARE ROUTINE
Y/N: okay, so i’m trying to get more consistent with my skincare but it’s not necessarily working the way i want it to. however, i still stick to the basics. sunscreen, cleanser and moisturiser. i really like keeping my skincare on check as there is this unsaid rule that women have to wear makeup in their jobs and if i keep my skin looking good then i can skirt that rule. i love this cream in particular, it’s moisturising but very light on the skin. best of both worlds.
NUMBER NINE: NECKLACE
Y/N: this was given to me as a gift from my family when i turned eighteen. it was a necklace that i’d had my eye on for a very, very long time. they saved up for so long to buy it for me and it’s become my signature piece. i wear it around my neck constantly. it’s weird having it off my neck to show you.
(she fastens it around her neck quickly)
Y/N: now i feel normal again.
NUMBER TEN: MY PADDOCK PASS
Y/N: i am so bad with keeping my paddock pass on me. for people who don’t know what this is, this allows me access to the garage and things like that. i usually keep it around my neck because if its in my pocket or my bag i’ll forget. my assistant sometimes carries mine. i’m not going to show you my picture because it’s awful. i had woke up really early after no sleep and one of the staff had made me take the picture. now i am forced to wear this monstrosity at work. i keep it hidden as much as i can. last time, lando saw it and laughed so hard he cried so yeah.
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author’s note: this was hard as i wanted to keep it as vague as possible so that you can relate it to your own maneater! i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in!
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wileys-russo · 3 days
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Mary earps in the date to remember series “I’m beginning to question whether you only married me for my ass” idk about location, maybe home or out shopping?
part of the a date to remember series gentle pat II m.earps
"okay! shopping bag, keys, list, phone, backpack leash, snacks for bribery. are we ready? i think we're ready." your wife clapped from the front door as you gave her a look.
"mary." you deadpanned, raising an eyebrow as she looked on uselessly. "forgetting something?" you egged her on as again she seemed dumfounded, going through her checklist and shrugging.
"me!" delilah came barreling through from the bathroom as your wife blushed slightly and you shook your head.
"from putting yourself to bed instead of her, eating half her dinner before she even got home from dance last night and now nearly locking her in the house alone...better pick your game up earps." you squeezed your wifes shoulder, snatching the keys from her hand, grabbing the shopping bags from the floor and walking out the front door.
"yeah mama, pick your game up!" delilah grinned cheekily as mary scoffed, easily scooping the four year old up and tossing her over her shoulder. "pick my game up! righto cheeky i've had about enough of this little parrot routine aunty tooney taught you." mary rolled her eyes, delilah for the last week finding endless amusement in doing and saying whatever she did on a dare from ella.
you of course also found it hilarious given it wasn't you that was being copied, not even lifting a finger to try and help put a stop to it.
"i'm not a parrot!" delilah huffed banging her fists against marys back who stepped out and locked up the front door. "are too, gonna change your name from delilah to...feathers? or maybe chirpy? squawk?" mary pondered as you watched on from the passenger seat with a smile.
"no! not allowed to do that mama." you heard your daughter scowl, turning around with a grin and tickling her stomach as mary buckled her into her car seat and delilah giggled kicking away your hand.
"good news babe i've decided we're changing her name. we've got options; feathers, chirpy, squawk?" mary pondered sliding into her seat and starting up the car as you hummed and delilah continued to protest from the back.
"oh! could call her tweety? or maybe birdie?" you joined in as mary backed out of the driveway with a grin. "no! delilah delilah delilah delilah delilah!" the four year old chanted over and over.
"okay okay! you can keep the name delilah...for now." mary teased as delilah huffed and pulled a face. "lilah we've talked about this. if you make an ugly face and the wind changes you're stuck like that forever." you warned as she quickly slapped a smile on and started to wiggle around happily as you flicked on her favorite playlist.
~
"don't wanna wear it! please mummy?" your daughter looked to you with the puppy dog eyes that normally broke both you and your wife but today all it earned her was a shake of your head as mary helped her slip on the backpack.
"sorry babe, you lost that privilege the last time we went shopping and you ran off. remember mama and i had to come and get you from the big security man? and we were very very worried." you clicked together the straps so it sat securely on her as mary grabbed the leash part.
"sorry." delilah mumbled kicking a rock, though spotting a pigeon land a few metres away she sprinted off as mary was almost taken down to her feet at the sudden tension on the leash and you covered your mouth to cover your laughter.
grabbing the shopping bags you winced seeing your wifes training bag shoved in the back, the girl currently in mid season break you knew it would have sat there for awhile.
"urgh mary!" you groaned, pointing it out as she near dragged delilah back toward you, smiling guiltily and kissing your cheek, promising to do the washing the very moment you got home as you hummed.
"hey! my turn." delilah stomped her foot, tapping her cheek expectantly and making you laugh as your wife rolled her eyes playfully but ducked down to kiss all over your daughters face making her squeal.
"alright. off we go!" mary nodded as you closed the boot and locked the car, gently tapping you on the ass as you passed her causing you to glare at her over your shoulder and delilah to giggle as mary only winked.
"you're in trouble." delilah warned wagging her finger at your wife as you took off ahead of the pair of them. "you're in trouble." mary parroted shoving her head to the side as delilah tried to tackle her and mary dodged out of the way with a grin.
turning around to see them left behind and chasing one another about you rolled your eyes and cleared your throat loudly, raising an eyebrow with one hand on a shopping cart as mary scooped up your daughter and hurried over to catch up.
"divide and conquer." you ripped the list in two and handed her half as you entered the supermarket, marys grip on delilahs leash tightening as delilah held up her hand expectantly.
"where's mine!" she frowned when she wasn't handed a list making you smile. "you get the most important job tiny." you warned as her eyes lit up and she nodded. "babysitting mama and making sure she doesn't get distracted." you whispered as delilah nodded, hugging your leg.
"go mama! hurry." the four year old barked, tugging on your wifes jumper where she was stood reading the nutrition information on the back of tub of protein.
"yeah mama, hurry." you teased, giving her a wink as you took the cart and headed off to start your own shopping, though not before a hand collided with your ass.
"mary! for god sakes we're in public." you hissed in warning as your cheeks burned red and she only grinned and headed off in the opposite direction with delilah ordering her around as she went, hitting her every time she deemed her as distracted.
you met back up every now and then, trading delilah or the shopping cart as you went, your daughter for once incredibly well behaved which earned her a few extra treats tossed in when mary thought you weren't looking which made you roll your eyes with a smile.
you were staring at the freezer section trying to find the specific brand of dinosaur chicken nuggets you knew were delilahs favorite and also the easiest way to get her to eat vegetables if mary smothered it all with gravy.
but a sharp slap to your ass had your body whipping around with a glare however the face you were met with wasn't the one you expected.
"deliah!" you exclaimed in shock as mary stood behind her with somewhat of a proud smile, your daughter grinning cheekily up at you. "mama does it." your daughter shrugged as if that was excuse enough, racing over to the freezer and pressing her face against it in wonder.
"you're a terrible influence." you glared at your wife who was tugged closer as delilah moved toward the ice cream section, pulled back a little by marys grip on the leash.
"me? my love i simply don't know what you mean." she winked, reaching around to squeeze one cheek in her hand as you smacked her chest and pushed her away.
"i'm beginning to question whether you only married me for my ass." you sighed with a shake of your head, grabbing the leash as your daughter continued to pull and struggle, determined to reach the ice cream section despite barely moving an inch.
"of course not darling i married you for your mind, your wit, your passion...and your ass."
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drdemonprince · 16 hours
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Can you offer any (academic) writing advice for Autistics and ADHDers? You clearly write a lot and write very well and very clearly, so some insight into your process would be great. Personally, I tend to struggle with over explaining or over citing (cause I am always getting misunderstood) and that I get very fixated on not misrepresenting what my sources are saying to avoid feeling like I'm lying. All this is time consuming and makes it hard to say what I really want to say. Thanks!
Hi there! I've written an essay about a lot of this, here is the free link to read it on Medium:
Much of my writing process is inspired by the book How to Write a Lot by Paul Silvia, and it is specifically tailored to academics. The advice applies to people who write popular nonfiction or fiction just as easily, however. And he does have advice relevant to the self-editing and self-doubt you describe feeling.
The full piece gets into this more, but here are some of the stand-out tips:
Schedule a regular time to write every week and show up no matter whether you are feeling it or not.
Throw out all your magical thinking about what you "need" to be able to write. You don't need the perfect workspace, divine inspiration, the right pen, the right playlist. You just need to show up to write regularly, and do it
Editing, outlining, working with research notes, and drafting all count as "writing." Don't expect your initial drafts to be perfect or to equate writing only with getting new words on the page.
Try writing in public spaces to help get yourself in the mindset of explaining a concept to someone with a different frame of reference and type of expertise than you. Writing in a cafe or a public library can force you think and write in a more accessible way. (alternatively, you can pretend you are explaining the concept to a specific person in your life who you respect but who doesnt have all the same reference points as you -- sometimes this is called the "Grandma Test". Explain something like you are talking to your grandma.)
In addition to all this, I would add that you should read a lot of writing, both good and bad, especially work that isn't dry and academic. If all you read is journal articles, you'll write a journal article -- and most of those are hell to read, even for academics. read fiction. read bad wattsapp shipping. read substacks. read newspapers. read indulgent personal nonfiction in the cut or whatever. read reddit posts. notice what works and what doesn't. develop an ear.
and then write a lot! it took me 15 years to get good enough for anything i wrote to get noticed. you can expect to take many years to get comfortable developing your own voice, too. i dont know how far along you are, but even when you've made tremendous progress you'll only notice your flaws and feel the most turgid brain foggy moments. that doesn't mean you're failing.
also, to some extent you can embrace your citation-dense, precise manner of self-expression. we are living in a moment of maximalism and indulgent, long creative works. it's the decade of the 5 hour youtube essay and the 2 hour album. my 5,000 word essays do better than my 2,000 word ones. you should strip down unnecessary tangents and trust yourself and your reader a little more probably, but ive found that the more blatantly autistic and indulgent my writing gets the more the right people like it. a writer's flaws and their distinctive voice are kinda hard to separate. you're not for everyone!
good luck!
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sweetbans29 · 1 day
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Should Have Been Me - CC
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Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader
Summary: You and Caitlin are home for a weekend to celebrate her brother's birthday - one thing leads to another and nothing is the same.
Warnings: ANGST - PURE ANGST, read at your own will. I would apologize but that would be a lie...
Word Count: 6.3k
Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: Please don't ask why I did this, I needed the pain. Just let it be. But low-key this is probably one of my favorites that I’ve written. Okay great, thanks!
You and Caitlin are jamming out on the drive home to Des Moines. A few weeks back she mentioned how her younger brother's birthday was coming up and she was planning on making the trip home to be there. She didn't need to ask, knowing you would come.
The two of you grew up together, meeting on the first day of first grade. You two were inseparable. If you weren't at school together, you were at practice or at each other's homes. Your parents accepted when you were girls that they both had two daughters even though she was the only girl among her siblings and you were an only child. You were all essentially one big family.
It came as no surprise to either of them when Caitlin and you told them you were dating in high school. It was a little bit of a hard pill for her parents to swallow but ultimately were supportive of your relationship when they saw how happy you made Caitlin as more than a friend. It wasn't a hard decision when the Hawkeyes came around and scouted both of you out to play college basketball with them. It was both of your dreams, to play college basketball and ultimately make it to the NCAA championship. Eventually to play in the WNBA and that all was coming true right before your eyes. It was the cherry on top that you two were able to do that together on the same team. Not only is your chemistry incredible off the court, but on the court - it's unmatched.
This is your last little getaway before things pick up going into March Madness. Senior year baby and the two of you know you can the team all the way back to the final four.
You pull up to her house and grab your bag from the car. Even though your home was right down the street the two of you planned to spend the Friday night at her house and then head to yours for Saturday night. It works out well as her brother's birthday party is tonight.
Once you get inside, you see her mom going crazy trying to get everything in order before tonight You set your things down and immediately help out wherever she needs. Caitlin does the same but takes some time to catch up with her dad first. Once Cait and her dad jump in, it all comes together.
People begin to arrive and the party comes together. Their home comes to life with friends and family from all over.
Caitlin's mom comes running over to Caitlin and you in a slight panic.
"Caitlin, I need you to go grab Colin from his friends," she says looking at her phone.
"Doesn't he have his car? Why do I need to go grab him? I told Dad that I would help him get the lights up for the party before everyone got here and we are behind." She says getting a little flustered herself.
"His car isn't starting and his friend is out of a car so they have no way of getting here," Caitlin's mom explains.
"I can go get him," you say. "That way you both can stay and finish anything that is needed."
"Oh, you are an angel, sweetheart! Thank you, thank you, thank you," she says while giving you a hug.
"It is no problem, it's my pleasure," you respond and give her a smile. Caitlin gives you a look of gratitude.
Caitlin's mom sends you the address and you give Cait a peck before heading out to grab the boys.
Once you get in your car, you put on your favorite playlist and maps then head out. It was only about a 15-minute drive there. As you are driving, it is just starting to get dark. Your lights turn on automatically as you are driving. You are about 5 minutes out when you are stopped at a light. Once yours turns green, you begin to go and that is when time stops.
*Third person-ish POV*
Caitlin's mom walks over to her and her dad as they are setting up the lights. They are just about finished putting them up - it took a minute to do but they look really good.
"Have you see your little bother yet? I thought they would be back by now," her mom says looking at her phone.
"I am sure they are almost here, Mom," Caitlin says as her arms are holding up the last string of lights for her dad.
"I'm sure you're right," she says as she walks away and goes to tend to the food.
Once the lights are complete, Caitlin goes to look for you. She looks all over the place and can't seem to find you. After about 30 minutes of looking, she finds her mom.
"Hey mom, have you seen (y/n)," she asks, checking her phone to see if there were any messages that she missed.
"I have been trying to call her. Your bother called and asked when we would be there to pick him up," she says and Caitlin begins to get nervous. Looking at the clock, she realizes it has been about an hour since you had left to pick him up and it should have taken you 30 minutes.
Cait gives your phone a ring and it goes straight to voicemail. She begins to look around for your parents, knowing they were here to see if they could get a hold of you. When she finds them, they say they haven't seen her yet.
"Caitlin, can you go get your brother, please? It has been over an hour in and he is still waiting for (y/n)," her mom says, not looking up from her phone. Caitlin grabs her mom's keys and heads out.
As she is driving, she notices there are police detouring cars. Her heart rate begins to pick up. She has to tell herself that it's not you, it couldn't be you. There was no way, you had never been in an accident and you are the best driver she knows. She slows down and makes a slow turn following the detour when she sees it. She sees your car flipped on its side, completely crushed on the driver's side.
She pulls her car over immediately, gets out, and runs to the scene. There is caution tape around the whole area which she completely ignores and runs over to the first ambulance she can see. When she looks inside, she sees a man with a cut on his forehead and arm in a sling. Before she can continue looking, there is a police officer approaching her.
"Ma'am, you can't be over here," he begins to say as he tries to usher you out of the caution-taped area.
"That's my girlfriend's car! I need to find her!" She says as she is in full-blown panic now.
The officer's mannerisms change completely when he hears that the girl in front of him knows who was in the car that was hit.
"Come this way, ma'am," he says in a gentler tone this time.
"No, I need to find (y/n). That is her car, she is here and I need to find her," Caitlin says not seeing the officer's demeanor changing. He grabs her arm and tries to get her to look at him. When she looks at him, he speaks again.
"You should come this way and we can talk," he says slowly, not wanting to spook you. Caitlin goes into a haze. She stops trying to fight the officer and lets him lead her to an easy-up tent that has been set up with lights. He offers her a chair and a bottle of water and sits next to her.
"Would you happen to have contacts for her parents? Someone else we can call to come down and be here with you?" The officer says, still not telling her what happened or where you are.
Caitlin pulls out her phone from her pocket and hands it over to him with your mom's phone number on the screen. Up to this point, no tears had fallen from Caitlin's eyes - if she was feeling anything it was anger. Why wasn't anyone telling her anything? She still had no idea what had happened. The officer passes her phone to another officer and they make the call.
"Can you please tell me what has happened and what's going on? I want to see her, is she okay?" Caitlin begins asking the officer again. She is doing everything in her power to not completely freak out. Her body is numb and she is confused as to where you could be.
"It would be best to wait for her family to be here," the officer begins but is cut off by Caitlin.
"I am her family." She says without hesitation. It was true. Not by blood and not legally, at least not legally yet but between growing up together and the relationship the two of you had been in for the last 6 years, it was only a matter of time before you were married. She had been your family since day one and everyone knew that.
The officer gives her a somber smile and a nod. Giving her a pat on the shoulder as another officer calls him over.
Caitlin sits there and waits, trying to look around at other ambulances to see if she can see you in any of them. If you were hurt, maybe they had already taken you to the hospital and didn't want her to drive in the state she was in.
A few moments pass and Caitlin sees both your parents and hers come running up to the scene. Caitlin stands and immediately hugs her mom. The tears begin to fall the second she is wrapped in safe arms. She still has no idea what is going on but at least now she is not alone.
The officer approaches asking your parents if they are they say they are. He takes them aside and begins explaining what happened. Caitlin breaks away from her mom to look over and see your mom sobbing with your dad trying to hold her as he sheds tears of his own.
"Mom, what happened? They haven't told me anything, I just want to see her," Caitlin says heart beating faster than a race car. Seeing your parents crumble before the officer has her feeling sick. She can't stand still as her foot is tapping and her hands keep playing with either themselves or the bottom of her shirt.
Caitlin's dad nods at her mom as he walks over to your parents and the officer. The officer and her dad both look over to Caitlin and her mom as they turn away. Caitlin sees her dad's shoulder slump and his hand come up to his face. He takes another moment before patting the officer on the shoulder and heading back to where his family is.
He doesn't say anything as he approaches, but rather takes Caitlin in his arms and just holds his daughter.
"Dad," Caitlin begins, hesitant in asking how. The last 45 minutes had felt like an eternity as she had been asking everyone under the sun what had happened. But the way her dad walked over and went to hold her, she no longer wants to know what has happened - she just wants to go back to earlier today when it was you and her against the world on the drive home. She can't seem to find what to ask anymore.
"Baby, I'm so sorry." Is all he says as he holds his baby girl. Something your parents are no longer able to do. Her mom rubs Caitlin's arm.
Caitlin's whole body goes numb, she still doesn't really know what happened but knows enough now to figure out nothing is going to be the same. When it begins to hit her, she feels suffocated by the arms holding her. Her first instinct is to run, to break away from here and run. And that is exactly what she does.
She pushes through her dad's arms and runs. She can hear her parents call for her but she doesn't look back.
She runs for hours finally slowing down when her lungs begin to burn so bad that she is gasping for air. Not that she wanted it - if you weren't with her, what was the point? You had been by her side her whole life and now she was alone. Cait lets out the most primal scream and falls to the ground. She curls up into a ball as the tears begin to fall.
Her mind begins to think of you, to the last moment before you left when you offered to pick up her brother. All she gave you was a little peck - no hug, no I love you. She should have held you and told her she loved you. It is then that it dawns on her, she was the one that was supposed to go. It was Caitlin who was first asked to pick up her brother but she didn't want to leave her dad so you volunteered. It should have been her picking up her brother. Maybe if it was her, things would have turned out differently and you would have still been here. As she is curled up on the side of the street - she feels her body beginning to shut down...
It was the summer before junior year of high school and you and Caitlin were heading home from practice for your club team, Attack. She was driving the two of you back to your house when you mentioned you wanted to stop to get milkshakes. She happily pulled over at your favorite local spot. Once the two of you had gotten your sweet treat, you sat in her car drinking milkshakes and talking about all the possibilities for playing college ball.
"Cait?" You ask as she is finishing her milkshake. She looks up at you. "I love you," you say. Up to this point, the two of you had both told each other you liked each other more than friends and started to explore what that looked like. You would say the two of you had been dating for the past couple of months - keeping it really low-key as you didn't know how the people around you would take it. But there was something about this moment, something about being together and just doing life together that helped you realize she is your everything.
She looks at you slightly shocked.
"You don't need to say it back!" You say, not wanting to pressure her. You just didn't want to go another day without telling her. "I just needed to tell you because, well, I do. I love you, Caitlin Clark."
A goofy little smile makes its way to her face and she pulls you in for a hug. It isn't the most comfortable considering you sitting in a car and have some piece of the center console pushing into your rib cage but you didn't mind.
"I love you," she whispers in your ear as she hugs you.
"Caitlin, sweetie," someone is shaking her arm. "Cait, wake up," they continue to shake her, waking her up.
She looks up, eyes foggy and body in pain. It takes her a few seconds to see it is completely dark and that she is on the side of the road. As she looks around, she realizes she is across the street from your favorite milkshake place. It had closed down a few years back but it was often a place the two of you would go to just sit and talk.
As she sits up, she doesn't remember stopping here. She just remembers running and running until she literally couldn't.
"Caitlin, sweetie," she hears again and looks up. It is your dad who has woken her up, she looks around and it is just him. "We have been looking for you for a while now sweetie."
She just nods. Everything rushed back to her. No one has actually said it to her yet, but she knows. You were gone. Her eyes begin to water again as it is all too much for her to wrap her mind around.
Your dad sits next to her, not ready to make his way back to reality. Sitting there with Cait, has him feeling like you are still here. That you are going to walk up and take them both home and tell them that this was all a dream.
“I don’t know if you remember, but I took you and (y/n) here after your very first basketball practice in elementary school. You both wanted something sweet and I didn’t want to go out of the way on the drive home that I pulled over here in hopes they had something that would satisfy you both. We walked in and they had milkshakes,” he says with a little laugh and sniffle. “(Y/n) had never had a milkshake before but you were so excited and told her it was the best thing in the world. Of course, she believed you, she trusted you with her whole heart and soul and you didn’t disappoint her. That afternoon you two shared a chocolate shake, finished every last drop.”
Caitlin is hugging her legs as tears stream down her face. She doesn’t remember that but it makes it that much more special that this place was your spot.
“Caitlin, has anyone explained what has happened?” He asks hesitantly. He doesn’t want to talk about it but he knows that she deserves to know.
She takes a minute, deciding if she really wants someone to say it. Even though she knows you are gone, for some reason having someone explain what actually happened makes everything that much more real. She finally shakes her head no, not daring to make eye contact. She feels like she would physically fall apart if someone looked into her eyes with any drop of sympathy.
“They said it was fast, that she didn’t feel any pain,” he began, hoping that would provide any ounce of peace to her. “When she was going through the intersection, a drunk driver came and blew through their red light. They impacted the driver's side and she…” he is choked up at this point. It’s not right that a father has to say this about his daughter. “She died upon impact.” He finishes, not sugarcoating it knowing Caitlin also preferred the direct approach.
Caitlin at this point is shaking with pain and anger. Her world has completely flipped due to an idiot making bad decisions. She wants to find the man and bring him all the pain she is feeling but knows that will never bring you back. That’s all she really wants, is you back.
Your dad doesn’t rush Caitlin, he lets her feel everything she needs. If he is honest, he also needs this time. He’s been caring for your mom then went on the hunt with the rest of the family to find Caitlin. He hasn’t had the time to just sit. Not that he really wanted to because that allows the feelings to come in and disrupt peace. How does a dad wrap his mind around losing his baby girl? His only little one.
“I don’t know life without her,” Caitlin speaks for the first time. Her voice is unsteady and broken, desperate. “She’s always been there, I don’t know how to be here without her,” she says as she lets out a cry. She bites her arm to avoid completely losing it. Your dad's hand comes to rub her back and bring her into a hug.
"I know she was your person and you were hers. She will always be a part of you," your dad says trying to calm the broken girl you left behind. "But I also know that she took a part of you and that it is going to take time for you to process and heal."
The two of them sit, not saying much after that. After some time, your dad helps Caitlin into the car, driving her back to her home. On the car ride back, your dad calls Caitlin's dad letting her know that she is with him and they can all head back to their house.
When they arrive, Cait's parents come running out and embrace her in a hug. Her whole body was still numb, her cheeks stained with dried tears. She doesn't have the energy to hug them back, rather just stands there. No thoughts going through her head, she doesn't quite know what to do. How does someone continue living when they are no longer whole?
*One week later*
Caitlin is sitting on her bed, dressed in a simple black dress. Her hair is straightened and her nails are black. They are usually painted white but that just didn’t fit her in the moment. She is mentally preparing to face the crowd of people who are waiting just down the road.
She takes a shaky breath and stands from her bed. She walks up to her dresser and puts on a necklace and bracelet - both were gifts from you. She looks at herself one more time in the mirror. As she is looking at herself, she pictures when the two of you were standing there dressed for a friend’s wedding. It’s almost as if she can see you standing next to her.
She hears a faint knock on her door. She doesn’t respond but the door opens and her mom peaks through.
“Hey baby, are you ready” She asks in a gentle motherly tone. Caitlin just nods. Never in a million years would she picture herself being in this boat.
Cait's dad had already driven over to the church with her brothers. It was going to be Cait and her mom driving there just in case she needed some space to be alone.
As they arrive, there is already a huge crowd of people, all of whom are entering the building. Caitlin's heart rate begins to pick up and she begins to fiddle with the bottom of her dress. Her mom grabs her hand, attempting to calm her. Nothing and no one will ever calm her like you did.
She walks in. There have been countless times Caitlin has imagined walking down this aisle with you but under much different circumstances. Her heart aches at the thought of what could have been.
She takes her seat in the front row between her mom and her dad. As she sits, she makes the mistake of glancing over at your parents. She can tell they are doing everything in their power to keep their composure but she knows they are faking.
The funeral service begins and your dad is the first to go up and speak. Caitlin's mind wanders elsewhere...
It was freshman year of college and the two of you are heading into your Intro to Psych class. The two of you head to the seats you have sat in since day one. In the middle of class, Caitlin feels a weight on her shoulder. When she looks over she sees you - fast sleep on her.
It had been a busy few weeks between double practices and all the homework you two had. Cait knew you had been bending over backwards adjusting and keeping up with all the university required of you.
She leans down and kisses you on the head. You would always say you are an ugly sleeper - granted you had never seen yourself but you could feel it. Caitlin on the other hand would disagree and say you are the cutest when you sleep. She would always say you looked so peaceful, childlike.
Caitlin also knows that you would be pissed if she let you sleep through the lecture. You were the better note-taker and when it would come time to study for the final - Cait wouldn't hear the end of letting you sleep through the review. But on the other hand, your girl knows how little sleep you have been getting, always working on school work or reviewing plays and making sure you were on top of everything.
You let out a little sigh and lean a little further into her - fast asleep. Caitlin lets out a little groan, knowing she would much rather watch you sleep on her than wake you. She slowly begins to move her shoulder, trying to get you to wake up without being startled.
When you don't budge, she leans down and says your name in your ear. You still don't budge.
Finally, she turns a little, trying not to draw attention to the two of you, and moves her arm to squeeze your thigh.
"Babe, you need to wake up," she says, giving your thigh another squeeze.
"Mmmm, don't want to," you mumble and move to take hold of her arm, wrapping your arms around it like it was a pillow.
"Babe, we are still in class." She says with a little laugh - falling a little more in love with you.
This causes you to shoot up, fully alert by her words. You look around and your cheeks redden immediately. Sinking down in your chair - embarrassment filling every ounce of your body.
She hands you your pen back and leans over to kiss your head once again.
"Don't worry babe, you didn't miss much," she says reassuring you.
Caitlin is pulled back to the present - though she much rather stay in the past. The service was ending and there was going to be a time for people to pay their respects to your family. it was being held at your house, Caitlin hasn't been without you - not having the strength to go over to see your parents. Most of the last week was spent in bed, with the exception of when her mom encouraged her to shower.
When she walks into the house, it almost feels foreign. She grew up in this house with you and now it feels unknown. She walks up to your parents. Your mom engulfs her in a hug, mumbling something along the lines of how much she loves her. Cait then steps over to give your dad a hug. The last time she saw him was when he found her on the side of the road. He hugs Caitlin without saying anything until their embrace ends.
"When you are ready, I have something to show you," he says. Caitlin just nods. She isn't ready yet but keeps that in mind.
As Cait makes her way further into the house, her team is standing there. This is the first time seeing anyone outside of your family since that night.
Kate is the first one to come up to Caitlin and pull her into a hug. Kate is crying as she hugs her. When Caitlin is in public settings - she doesn't tend to cry, she does everything in her willpower not to because someone had to stay composed and when you were around, it wasn't you. She hugs Kate back and rubs her back.
All the girls give their condolences and talk about their favorite memories with you. Kate is holding Caitlin's hand, grounding her.
Caitlin stands there, trying to be polite and listen to how much they all loved you and adored you but she was crawling in her skin. None of this still feels right. Somewhere in Caitlin's mind and heart, she is waiting for you to walk through the front door and tell everybody that there is no one to mourn and that she is okay. But that was all just a dream.
Caitlin excuses herself and decides she wants to be alone. She begins walking and before she knows it, she is standing at the door to your room. The door is closed and she doesn't remember this being the destination she was looking for.
Her breath begins to unease itself as her hand comes to the doorknob. She twists it and opens the door, not yet daring to take a step inside. She stands looking around - the all too familiar space feeling empty. A pain builds in her chest as she walks through and makes her way to your dresser.
She looks at all that it holds. Little trinkets that the two of you saw value in, old jewelry, and many pictures of the two of you. Photos of you growing up and in high school. Her fingers run along your face on all of them - tears finally making an appearance on her own.
She then makes her way to your closet - bringing an old high school basketball sweatshirt into her chest. She inhales the scent of it, dampening it with her tears. She puts it on and hugs her arms around her body. She makes her way over to your bed and runs her hands over it, remembering all the times she had spent the night here with you. She lays down and curls up into a ball.
Looking over, she sees an old teddy bear that the two of you had made at Build-a-Bear for one of your anniversaries. She takes hold of the bear and snuggles into it - finally allowing her sobs to release.
Every time she begins to feel better, she gets hit by another truck. This one being the second biggest only to the night it all happened.
After some time, she finally begins to settle down. She sees your dad pass by. Caitlin gets up and runs to the doorway, calling for him.
"Caitlin," he begins, as he slightly peers into your room. "We haven't been in (Y/n's) room since it happened, we haven't had the strength to..." He continues.
"You said you had something you wanted to show me?" She asks, not really sure if she is ready but wants to know.
"Oh yes, wait here, let me grab it," he says and goes to get something from your parent's room. He comes back holding something in his hand.
He passes it to Caitlin. It is a small velvet box. Caitlin's hands begin to shake.
"When you are ready, you can open it. It doesn't have to be now, but I know it belongs to you." He says as there is some confusion written on Caitlin's face. He explains. "This was my mother's, she passed it down to Y/n when she mentioned the two of you started dating. We have been holding onto it but like I said, it's yours." He chokes out the last part and excuses himself.
Caitlin goes to sit on your bed and just stares at the box in her hands.
She slowly opens the box to see the most beautiful diamond ring sitting in it. Tears begin to fall again as she removes it from the box and places it on her finger.
It's your grandmother's wedding ring. Your grandmother had given you her wedding ring for when you were ready to ask Caitlin to marry you. Caitlin looks at the ring on her finger and clutches her hand to her chest - you were going to ask her to be your wife.
As Cait was going to close the box, a little piece of paper caught her eye. She pulls it out and opens the folded piece. She whispers the words on the page.
"Dear Y/n, It is clear to me how much you love Caitlin. I could see it before the two of you started dating, it was only a matter of time. She is your person like your grandfather was to me. I am giving you this ring for when the time is right and you are ready to build a life with her. May you love each other more and more each day, as your grandfather and I did. I love you, sweet girl. - Grams"
Caitlin struggled through the letter but was glad she did. She realized you had been holding on to this ring for the past 5 years.
*Two months later*
Caitlin was back at school and back at practice with the girls. Each girl on the team took turns watching over Caitlin. It was never said but she knew, at no point was she ever alone except to sleep.
Tonight was her first game back and it has been a love-hate relationship getting back on the court. Basketball has always been her love but it was off-putting being on the court without you. The two of you had played together for so long, neither of you had to think when it came to making things happen. Coming back to practice it was like learning a whole new sport.
As the team was in the locker room before the game - they were getting a talk from Coach Bluder before taking the court for the first game of March Madness.
"We are going to go out there and give our everything. There is nothing we are not ready for - each and every one of you has put in the blood, sweat, and tears and we are going to show the world that this is our time." She says getting the team fired up. Her final words bring silence among the group. "As we go out there, we are going out there incomplete. We are missing someone who has changed this team for the better and when we step foot onto that court, we are walking out there in her honor. Y/n will always be a part of this team and as she carried this team as captain before - she still does today."
Caitlin fiddles with the ring that would have wed the two of you and safety pins it to the left side of her sports bra. There was no way she was walking out there without you with her.
The team lines up in silence - ready to go out and honor you. And that is exactly what they did.
Iowa went 91-65, absolutely crushing the first round of March Madness. Your team fought its way back to the Final Four and Caitlin dedicated every game to you.
The night of the Final Four was a battle - UConn put up an amazing fight, but the Hawkeyes came out on top. After the game - it was decided that Caitlin would step into the post-game press conference. Her first one since your passing.
As she sits down, the crowd takes a second to settle, surprised seeing her out there considering she hadn't been in any of the previous ones despite being an all-star in each of them.
The press starts asking questions about the game and how the team was able to pull the win off. Everything was going smoothly until one reporter asked about you.
"Caitlin, there was a loss on your team right earlier in the season - how has that affected the team dynamic?" The reporter asks.
She was expecting someone to ask but even anticipating the question, it took her some time to gather her thoughts. Just as she was about to speak - Kate stepped up and responded for her. Caitlin was extremely thankful and when Kate was done she finally found the words she wanted to say.
"No one on this team has felt the loss of Y/n more than I have. She was my #1 on and off the court," she says beginning to get choked up. "Her absence is felt deeper than anyone can imagine and this team will never be the same without her."
'I will never be the same without her' is what Caitlin wanted to say but couldn't between the tears that began to fall. Kate passed her a towel, which she gladly accepted. She tried so hard to keep it together but it was all still so fresh.
That night, Kate and some of the other girls spent the night at Caitlin's so she wouldn't have to be alone. It had only been a few months but Caitlin was afraid she would never truly heal from you.
*One year later*
Caitlin was living out the dream the two of you talked about so often. She was in the WNBA and was playing for the Indiana Fever. She had an incredible rookie year and was currently at an awards night where she was going to receive the Rookie of the Year award.
The night was going well and it was time for the award presentation. When they announce Caitlin as rookie of the year, she ascends the stage and accepts the award, giving the commissioner a hug before taking her place to make her speech.
"First off, I want to say a huge thank you to my team - if it wasn't for them taking me in like they did, I wouldn't be standing here today. I want to thank my Iowa team who grew me and shaped me. Thank you to my parents and brothers for always pushing me and believing in me and my ability." She looks down at the award and at her hand that wears her ring. "The last thank you I want to give is to Y/n, my wife." She says it knowing the weight it holds but it comes out so naturally.
"I owe my everything to her. She was my supporter from day one and every day after that she wouldn't settle for anything less than my best. Even when I would say I was giving her my all - she would push me past that, strengthening me and showing me who I truly had the potential to become. I stand before you all today because of her love of this sport, and her love of me." Caitlin makes the slightest adjustment to look up, to anyone in the audience it looks like she is looking up at the balcony but all those who knew you, know that she is looking up to you. "Baby, we did it," she says as a single tear rolls down her cheek. "We are living out our dream."
AN: DON'T ASK ME TO APOLOGIZE BECAUSE I WON'T. Please let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍
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Don't Kill My Vibe
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Title: Don’t Kill My Vibe
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.7K
Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.
Warnings: mention of a breakup, recreational drug use (marijuana), friends-to-lovers trope, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids
A/N: This is an AU where Clark Kent is not superpowered and Superman does not exist. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers by me
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist
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It wasn’t the first time Clark asked to try some bud, but it was the most pathetic. His gorgeous blue eyes were puffy from crying over that woman. As much as you wanted to say, “I told you so," you didn’t want him to feel any worse about the failed relationship with his reporter beau, Lois Lane.
And yet again, you think to yourself, ‘Fuck Lois Lane’.
When he showed up at your place an hour ago in sweatpants, sneakers, and a button-up pullover, you were surprised to see he opted for something other than his normal flannel and jeans. His hair was mussed, and he avoided eye contact with you. Something was wrong.
You dragged him into your apartment, turning down your Spotify playlist on the Bluetooth speakers so you could talk over the mellow tunes. While you flopped down on your couch, Clark sat down slowly and sighed.
You were already elevated, having taken a couple of puffs from your blue and red glass bowl earlier, so you were struggling to pay attention to everything he was saying. You tried to put on your “I’m not high” face and nod enough, saying “Oh wow” occasionally. But, in actuality, your eyes were as red as the Devil’s dick, and Clark wasn’t stupid.
His eyes looked from yours to the tray on the coffee table that held your various assortments of smoking apparatus, grinder, lighter, and stash box. Leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, he motioned his chin toward everything and said, “I know you’ve said no a million times, but I could use an escape. And before you say no again, know I’ve tried all the tricks in the book to get over somebody, and nothing is working.” 
“I have a feeling there’s another thing you haven’t tried either, but whatever,” you rattled on, waving off his confused expression. “Fine. It should be illegal for you to use those puppy eyes when asking me for something, by the way.”
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So here you are, preparing a strawberry cone for you and Clark to share. You were always weird about people using your favorite bowl. You also figure that for a first-timer, it would be the easiest for him to start with. Twisting the end after filling the cone, you reach for the lighter and ashtray.
“First things first,” you purr, using your phone to turn the music up. “Now, watch what I do. I’m going to draw the smoke into my mouth and then hold it for a few seconds, or as long as I can, before blowing it back out. Ready?”
Clark nods as he turns toward you, tucking one leg under the other. Now that you have his full attention, you suddenly feel flustered. Casting your eyes downward, you take the cone into your mouth and light the end. You inhale deeply and take it out of your mouth. Savoring the citrus flavor of the strain, your tongue licks your lips, and you exhale. 
You close your eyes and take a few breaths. After a moment, you hear Clark’s voice breaking through your haze: “Everything good?”
Your eyes pop open, and just like nothing happened, you perk up. Handing him the cone, you blink as he holds it like someone who has never smoked. You’ve known Clark long enough that you have a suspicion that is probably true for him. 
He’s polite, almost to a fault. He screams Boy Scout, altar boy, and ‘promise ring’ all at the same time. What can you say? Clark was a good boy. And you were getting him high. You little devil! 
Clark takes a short pull from the pink-colored joint and manages to hold it for about two seconds, then attempts to exhale. A small plume escapes his mouth, he inhales sharply and has a coughing fit. You take the joint back before he drops it and sit it in the ashtray.
Rubbing his back, you try to talk him through catching his breath. You grab your water bottle and hold the straw to his mouth when he nods his thanks. He sips the water, then clears his throat loudly, burping up a bit of smoke. He laughs quickly as he sees it exit his mouth, reminding you of a little surprised dragon.
“That was fun,” he sputters, his voice deeper than usual.
“It gets easier, Clark. Trust me, coughing is normal. And most of the time, coughing gets you higher,” you laugh, picking up the joint to take another hit.
You inhale, exhaling into the air, and hold it out for Clark to take again. He sips from your water bottle and gives it to you in exchange for the joint.
Holding it between two fingers, he brings it to his lips. You watch his mouth curl around the tip, and your brain conjures up the vision of what else that boy’s mouth can do. He takes the joint out of his mouth, holding his breath for a few seconds, then blows it out slowly. He gives it back to you and leans back against the couch.
“I don’t think I feel any different yet. How long does it take to kick in?” he asks, crossing his arms and pouting.
It being his first time, he is completely unaware that he is already high. His body language is different; Clark Kent doesn’t slouch even a little. He also certainly doesn’t fidget; his hands suddenly become very interested in the material of his pullover.
“You’ll feel it sooner than you think,” you mumble, the joint between your lips as you speak.
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Twenty minutes later, Clark tells you exactly what the last straw was that ended his relationship with Lois. He pauses to take a hit, handing it back to you as he exhales. “But it was always whatever she wanted. I treat her like a queen. And she goes and blows Jimmy-fucking-Olsen. Then she lies about it after Jimmy comes clean to me. I…,” he trails off, looking over at you and shaking his head as he laughs.
“What?” you question when you realize he stops talking.
“Nothing. I just… I think I’m high,” he giggles, the corners of his eyes wrinkling when he smiles at you.
“Besides being high, can you describe how you feel?” You press, wanting to know just how high he is.
“I feel lighter. Clear…er? Is it clearer or more clear? Whatever. I think I also just figured out how I want to finish that article on The Wayne Foundation,” he explains, leaning back so he is lying on his back with his head on your lap. “Is this ok? Your lap looked so comfortable,” he wonders aloud, looking up at you.
That’s when you realize three fundamental truths at the same time. 
1. Clark is single. 
2. Clark is literally in your lap.
3. The crush you have on Clark is swiftly turning into lustful infatuation.
Bringing yourself back to the present, you smile at him and say, “Yeah, of course it’s ok.” You focus on the heat radiating from your best friend as he makes himself comfortable so close to your thirsty pussy. 
“You are the best,” he replies, closing his eyes as your hand finds its way into his curls.
“This cool?” you dare, hoping that you can continue to push the boundary between friendship and something more.
As if the groan from the back of his throat wasn’t enough, he voices his satisfaction. “More than cool. I love having my hair played with. Feel free to go to town on me.”
Oh, the importance of phrasing.
This man is not going to make it easy on you.
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You’re explaining to Clark about that episode of Bob’s Burgers where Bob and Linda accidentally get high after eating cookies laced with marijuana at their accountant’s office. “So, anyway. Bob, Linda, and the accountant build a pillow fort from the cushions on his couch, and somehow it makes them feel safer which I get because pillow forts were the height of safety when we were kids. And sometimes, people feel safer thinking about the simplicity of their childhood,” you rattle on, leaning forward to grab your water bottle and forgetting about Clark’s head, which is still very much in your lap.
An oomph is spoken into your boobs, and you shoot straight up to a standing position and knock Clark off your lap and onto the floor. 
“Shit!” he cries from his spot on the floor.
“Fuck, Clark! I’m so sorry! Are you ok?” You cringe, your hand touching your forehead as you watch him pull himself up.
“Hey, hey. It’s cool, I’m fine,” he reassures, his hand grabbing yours to take it away from your face. With the other hand, he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Tilting your head up, he smiles and counters, “Are you ok?”
Yeah. Fine. My tits were just thrust into your face for a bit there. Oh, and you have no idea that I like you. And that pesky curl is falling into your pretty eyes again. And your handsome face is close enough to-
One second, you’re staring at his smile; the next second, you’re attacking his mouth with yours. His lips are just as pillowy and soft as they look. At first, the kiss is timid. Surprise gives way to need as he deepens the kiss. His tongue seeks solace as it slides against the seam of your lips. Granting him entry, he licks into your mouth like an explorer discovering new lands. 
His hands find their way to your hips, bringing you impossibly close. He feasts on every whimper that leaves you, peppering in some moans of his own. This is the kiss of a man waiting for a moment like this. At least, that’s how it feels.
Begrudgingly, you slowly break away from Clark. His kiss-swollen pink lips beg to be reunited with yours, but you must prove this is real. You look up into his dilated eyes, noting how blue is almost completely taken over by black. 
You open your mouth to speak, but Clark beats you to it.
“Unless you are about to tell me you don’t want this, please just kiss me again,” he breathes, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t know what’s more intoxicating. This drug or having you so close to me.”
Instead of worrying about what this means, you throw caution to the wind. Tilting your head, you slot your lips with his, devouring the subtle whimper that escapes him. From nervous to commanding, you feel Clark’s demeanor change as his hands wander over your body.
He picks you up by the waist, your legs instinctually wrapping around him. With you in his arms, he walks blindly to your bedroom. Once he lays you down, he covers your body with his. The hard length against your mound gives you pause, but you quickly recover as you angle your hips to meet his.
Clark breaks the kiss to sit up and remove his pullover and shirt. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he watches you scan his torso while you bite your lip. Leaning down, he tugs at the hem of your shirt, wanting you to get rid of it. 
You oblige, now topless in front of your best friend for the first time. You don’t have time to freak out over that information because Clark hooks his fingers in your leggings, his eyes begging for permission. You raise your hips, and he pulls them down your legs along with your underwear. 
You sit up as he chucks his sweatpants, his heavy erection now visible. Your first thought is, “Now that is a pretty dick.”
“Thank you,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You wonder aloud, already knowing the answer.
Clark smiles, nodding at you before coaxing you to lay back. He sinks between your legs, holding them open to kiss your thighs. He teases you a bit, licking and nipping at your mound and outer labia until you wiggle your hips and whine. 
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Patience, please,” he cautions, shaking his head at you. He winks at you, diving fully into your snatch and sucking your clit between his lips. 
You throw your head back in ecstasy as his tongue slides over your swollen button. Humming while sucking on your nub is a fucking power move, and your hands tangle in his hair. You dig your heels into his back as he laps up the juices that accumulate at your entrance. Looking down at him as he worships at the altar of your body, you are taken aback as he peeks up at you over your mound.
With your eyes locked on each other, he watches as he tips you right over the edge. He groans into your pussy, his mouth and chin soaked, as your walls contract around nothing. The euphoria of being high mixes with the joy of being with someone new for the first time.
But this isn’t just anybody; this was your best friend. Warmth and comfort exist between you, allowing you to feel safe enough to fall and that Clark will catch you.
You come down as he plants a kiss on your mound, grazing his lips up your tummy. When he is back above your face, he runs the tip of his dick across your wet folds. He maintains eye contact while he slides in for the first time. 
Once he is fully seated inside you, he lets you adjust to his size before he withdraws slightly and thrusts forward. The wet squelch of your pussy and the smack of your bodies against one another are music to your ears. Clark’s grunts as he fucks into you only fuel your impending second climax.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Too good. Not going to last long,” he warns, sitting up on his knees as his hands go to your waist. Throwing his head back, he growls and picks up the pace, using your body like his personal fucktoy.
Your back arches as he repeatedly hits that hidden bundle of nerves. A searing fire erupts in your belly as your cunt clamps down on his dick, spasming and coating it with your cream.
“Good girl! That’s it. Fucking come for me, just like that,” he encourages. “Oh, shit. I’m right fucking behind you. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck.”
You lock your legs around his waist, keeping him right where he is as his dick spasms and fills you to the brim. Your hands smooth down his big chest, feeling the muscles ripple as he comes down from what is probably the most intense orgasm he has ever felt. He stills soon enough, breathing back to normal as his softening length slips from you.
Flopping down next to you, Clark wraps an arm around you. You curl into his side, an arm across his stomach, and a leg thrown over his. Contented silence fills the room as you both take in this unforeseen turn of events.
Clark’s hand makes idle patterns on your back as you lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You close your eyes for only a moment, missing Clark smiling at you. He gives you a quick peck on the top of your head, causing you to tilt your head to meet his eyes.
“You hungry?” you guess, feeling a bit peckish yourself.
“Yes!” he exclaims.
“Good. I know a great place down the street that makes the best samosas. Does Indian food sound good?” you ask, already tasting the rich spices of the food.
“Sounds perfect,” he says, picking up his arm to let you get up from the bed to grab your phone, watching your hips sway as you walk out to the other room.
Once back in bed, you order various dishes for the both of you. While you wait for the food, you pass a joint back and forth and steal a kiss or two. You decide there is plenty of time for you and Clark to talk. There is no use in killing the vibe for heavy stuff.
With the way Clark is looking at you, there’s not much to talk about anyway. 
🍃The End🍃
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A/N: I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!
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burrowingregg · 2 days
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YOU COME FROM PARENTS WANTON A CHILDHOOD ROUGH AND ROTTEN I COME FROM WEALTH AND BEAUTY UNTOUCHED BY WORK OR DUTY AND OH MY LOVE MY LOVE WE BOTH GO DOWN TOGETHER
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revengeghoulette · 1 day
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Matcha Latte w/Rose
Part 2: The Date
They go on their date!!
A/N: Bit of a time skip. It's not like the best thing I've written, but it'll do :) It gets a little steamy but not enough to be considered Spicy. Mostly edited.
WC: 3k
Sorry in advanced, you'll see. -Rev.
Playlist: The Rosy Crown
tagging: @obsidianghoul (ily, sorry I banned you), @sovaghoul @gottagho-st @clouds-bitch @crystalameoba @cheerycherrycandy-resurrected @foxybouquet @ghostlylivres @hypnoneghoul
It’s been almost 3 weeks since Swiss asked Mountain out on a date, and preparations for the midterm rush at The Rosy Crown are in full swing. Mist, Sunny and Swiss have been organizing the schedule to ensure that last year's snafu doesn’t occur again. They accidentally left The Rosy Crown with no staff for about 3 hours in the middle of the night, and they also ran out of flour and butter. They promised that moving forward reparations would begin several weeks before exam weeks to avoid any issues the week of.  
Mountain has been busy with office hours, lectures, and a garden club he offered to be an advising faculty member for. He tries his hardest to make sure to be at the cafe before Swiss’ shift ends so they can walk home together, but there’s been a handful of nights where he doesn’t make it. He regrets assigning so much homework. He makes a mental note to adjust the workload for next semester, especially since he’ll be teaching two additional courses. 
On the nights Mountain can’t make it to the cafe, he shoots Swiss a message to let him know so he doesn’t worry. If it's truly a rough day, he forgets all together. 
Swiss will do anything to spend time with his favorite person. He happily walks to campus with some snacks and a warm drink, to find him buried in stacks of papers gripping a red pen. He takes a seat on one of the comfy chairs Mountain has in his office, and reads the random magazines he has lying around.  
“Is gardening like your favorite thing to do, or what? You’ve got so many magazines here about greenhouses and what not, and you’ve got a little gardening gang now,” Swiss questions, laughing at the end, referring to the gardening club.
“It's… yeah. You know how we, ghouls, have an element attached to us? I’m an earth ghoul, hence the name Mountain. I have a special connection with the earth, so, yeah, gardening, and all things nature,” Mountain informs him.
“Oh, I guess I never really thought about it. I know we have ties to elements, but my parents weren’t very into that, I guess? They tried to assimilate more to the human culture, so we didn’t lean into it.”
After a moment, Swiss began getting a little antsy, distracting Mountain, “Honey, what is it? You're getting fidgety.”
Swiss blushes at hearing the earth ghoul call him honey. “Would you… help me connect with my elements? According to my parents, I have a mix of them. It's where my name came from, actually.”
Mountain sets down his pen and removes his glasses. “Wait. Swiss… Like, Swissarmy knife? Because you’re a multi ghoul.”
Swiss nods slowly. 
Mountain lets out a hearty chuckle, “That’s very cute, but absolutely, it would be my pleasure. I’m done here though. Why don’t we pick up some food and go home?”
Standing up from his chair, Swiss grabs Mountain’s coat and helps him put it on before walking out the door hand in hand. 
Swiss and Mountain have only been going out for a few short weeks, but their connection is so much more than typical crush. They have routines, they call each other during downtime just to say hello, Mountain continues to stop by The Rosy Crown every morning, and Swiss helps Mountain with grading or understanding typical young adult behavior. It seems like neither of them can spend the night alone anymore. There’s something tugging them together. 
They haven’t had their first official date, but all the hang outs are everything and more. 
With midterms week upon them, Swiss, Mist and Sunny have been living at The Rosy Crown filling in for their student staff. Mountain has been at the shop every single day volunteering to help bus tables, or go around and restock supplies and books. 
Mist has gotten on his case multiple times about it before, claiming that it's not his job, that he’s probably breaking some sort of labor law by helping them. Mountain assures her it falls under volunteer work and she doesn't need to worry. Swiss admires that Mountain puts up with Mist’s fighting spirit and constantly thanks him for helping, but reassures him he doesn’t have to.
“I do it because I want to. No one’s forcing me to be here.” Mountain reassures him back. With a quick kiss on the forehead, they go back to their duties. 
Ever the creep, Sunny watches them interact. She’s never seen Swiss be so enthralled by another being before. He’s putty in Mountain’s hands. The forehead kiss sent her over the edge. 
He walks past her, and she takes this opportunity to corner him, “Dude. What the fuck. Where did you find him? He’s amazing! And he’s been so much help! Please tell me you’re gonna dick him down soon! Omg, does he have a sister?”
Swiss grabs Sunny by the arms and shakes her playfully. “Sunny, breathe. Calm down! He’s pretty amazing, huh?” 
“Who knew the playboy would settle down,” she teased, earning a glare from Swiss. “I'd snatch him from you, but I like the ladies. They're not as stinky.” Sunny makes a disgusted face before cackling and running away from Swiss’ reach He grins, rolling his eyes at her antics. Who knew the calm quiet child would grow up to be anything but calm and quiet. 
-
After a rough week of long nights, The Rosy Crown closes the weekend after midterms. Students are mostly gone on spring break, and the staff is exhausted. Swiss gives everyone a long weekend to recover and start fresh on the following Wednesday. 
Mountain wakes up with Swiss’ arms around him. He takes a moment to admire the features on Swiss’ face, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and the horns protruding from his head. He was perfection incarnate. The gold flakes in his horns match the gold flakes in his eyes, his muscles defined by all the manual work he puts into baking, his tail wrapped around his own leg as if cuddling with him, there is no other ghoul that could match his beauty.  
He gets up quietly, placing the blanket over Swiss body, and goes to the living room. He knows Swiss isn’t waking up anytime soon, especially after the week they just had. Mountain brews a fresh pot of coffee and takes a seat on the couch, wrapping a blanket over himself. The air is getting crisper with the approaching winter, he can feel it in his bones, and see it in his hair. He's luckily able to glamour that. He picks up a random book Swiss has lying about, and begins to read it while he waits for sleeping beauty to wake up.
In the other room, Swiss wakes up alone. He feels around for Mountain, but he doesn’t find him. Groggy, he gets up and sees he's reading the book Mist said was good, but truth is… It’s trash. The writing is terrible, but the smut is hot. 
He wanted to stare at Mountain forever, but he was getting chilly and he looked so warm. Swiss quietly makes his way over before crawling on top of Mount, startling him. 
“Good morning sweetheart,” Mountain sets the book down, rubbing his hands up and down Swiss’ back while his face was smushed against him lower belly. He mumbled something in response, but Mountain couldn’t make it out. 
They adjusted themselves so that Swiss was underneath the blanket, cuddling Mountain on the couch. Sleeping beauty dozed off, and Mountain picked up the book again. After a little while, Swiss started to wake up again. Mount felt movement under him, so he set the book down and started rubbing the back of his finger up and down Swiss cheek gently. 
“You’re warm,” Swiss gets out in a groggy voice, snuggling further into Mountain. 
“Mm I know honey. I’m also hungry, and need more coffee. This book is lulling me back to sleep,” Swiss hums in agreement, “I’m gonna make us some breakfast, sweetheart.”
After they get up, Swiss warms up the coffee and starts to make breakfast for the both of them. Mountain complains because he was supposed to make breakfast, not the other way around, especially since he had a long week at the shop, but Swiss wasn’t having it. They argue back and forth for a little bit.
“I’m taking you on that date today. I’m picking you at 6,” Swiss announces as he places pancakes on a plate for Mountain.  
“Oh, thank you,” Mountain takes the plate. “Are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?”
“Nope, it’s a surprise. A little something I’ve been cooking up for a while,” Swiss says before taking a seat and cutting up his pancakes. “Wear something comfortable, and something you wouldn’t mind getting a little… dirty.”
“Are you going to explain?” the earth ghoul questions. 
“Nope,” Swiss says with a wink.
-
Swiss knocks on Mountain's door right at 6pm, not a minute early, not a minute late, exactly at 6. 
Mountain opens the door wearing a dark green Henley and black jeans. “Is this okay?” Mountain asks. 
Swiss is stunned, He just stared at Mountain for a little bit before stuttering out, “Oh, definitely. You look fantastic.” 
Swiss hands Mountain some flowers he picked up earlier that day. Placing them inside, Mountain locks up and walks down the steps, taking Swiss hand.  
“Where are we going?” The tall ghoul inquires. 
“Somewhere. Don’t worry about it sweetheart.”
After walking a few minutes down the road, they reach their destination: The Rosy Crown Cafe & Bookshop. Swiss lets go of Mountain’s hand and opens the door.
 “Swiss, what are we doing here?”
“We are on a date, my good sir. Come on.”
Swiss opens the doors and walks Mountain inside. It takes a moment for Mountain to take everything in. The blinds are all down, and there’s total privacy. Looking around, he sees strings of light are hung up, there’s a table with candles lit in the center and on either side there's a table placement and two dishes served. Soft music is playing in the background, creating a romantic, intimate space for them. 
“Swiss… how?”
“The ladies might have helped.” He smiles almost sheepishly up at the taller ghoul. “I hope you’re hungry.”
Swiss guides Mountain to the table, pulls out the chair for him before taking a seat himself. On the plate there is a serving of roasted potatoes, a kale asian salad, and a plate of creamy mushroom risotto with a fresh baked dinner roll on the side.
They dive into the meal prepared by Mist and Sunny. The earth ghoul talked about his uni work, biodegradable research projects amongst other things. Swiss cracked some jokes and delved more about his parents and his childhood. He grew up surrounded by humans and had very few interactions with ghouls. He met Sunny and Mist in elementary school and have been inseparable since then. They’re family, a pack, if you will. Mountain sips on his wine while watching Swiss enthusiastically tell stories from his childhood. 
As they finish their food, Swiss gathers their plates and sets them to the side, mentally noting to take care of them later. 
“I have something special planned for dessert, follow me,” Swiss stands up, and offers a hand to Mountain. He takes him to the kitchen, and ties an apron around him. 
“I want to ask what we're doing, but you’re not gonna tell me.” 
“You know me so well, but fine, I’ll tell you. We’re making cinnamon rolls.”
Swiss had pre-measured out the flour, cinnamon, butter, and the rest of the ingredients and placed them on the counter. 
“Oh, by 'we're making them' you mean I'm making them?!”
“Yes, but don’t worry, I’ll help.”
Swiss dumps the flour on the counter, forming a well in the center. “First, you’re going to incorporate a few things into the flour. Here,” Swiss hands Mountain a few things and he dumps them into the well. “Now mix them up using the fork, then make the well again.” 
Mountain does as he’s told. Swiss works on mixing the wet ingredients for him. “I’m going to slowly mix this in. First use the fork,” Swiss pours a small amount of the wet ingredients, making sure everything is incorporated before adding more. “Great, now use your fingers. Make your hand into a claw and mix it in. As it gets stickier, start to knead.  It’s going to get pretty sticky, but keep kneading. I still need to add in some more flour.”
Swiss stands back, watching Mountain mix the ingredients so gently, “You’re going to have to be a little rougher baby,” he states after dumping in a few more cups of flour.
Mountain starts to get tired from kneading since he’s been going at it for a few minutes. 
“Swiss, this is hard. I’m getting tired,” he complains. 
 That's not the only thing that's hard, Swiss mumbles under his breath. 
Swiss stands behind him, slightly pushing his hips against Mountain’s back, and helps him knead. Mountain turns his head back, they stare into each other's eyes for a second, and lean in, lips meeting at a feverish pace. 
“Let me take over Mount.” Swiss mumbles into the kiss. He quickly finished kneading the dough while Mountain stands behind him, kissing his neck, hands roaming his body, leaving a trail of flour and dried dough on his clothes, especially his ass.
Swiss sets the bowl with the dough aside, Mountain takes this as an opportunity to grab him and press him against the counter. He leans into Swiss, his ass pressing against the counter, he towers over Swiss for a moment before kissing him with all his might.
Swiss’ arms immediately go to the back of the Mountain’s head, pressing him closer to his mouth, fingers playing with his hair. Swiss pulls on his hair to see what kind of reaction he would get, and he got the best reaction possible. A moan escaped Mountain’s lips as his head was pulled back, foreheads joining after Mountain lets out a whine from Swiss still pulling his hair back. Mountain wanted nothing more to get Swiss naked right then and there.
“Mount…” Swiss whispers, fearing that if he spoke any louder, the moment would be ruined. 
“I'm gonna kiss you again.” Mountain announces in the same quiet tone. 
Mountain goes for Swiss neck, inhaling his scent before lightly kissing him in that little patch near his ear. He wants to bite, he knows and recognizes what this attraction is but Swiss doesn’t. He can't jump the gun and do something that could probably destroy their souls. 
Without realizing, he shakes his head, shaking the thoughts away, Swiss is too high on the love right now to catch Mountain's head shake. Instead, he moans when Mountain begins to kiss down the front of his neck to his collarbones. Tracing the outline of those delicate, sensitive bones. Swiss throws his head back, opening himself more for Mountain. His hands still tangled in his hair, tugging lightly every now and then. He leaves a few hickeys on Swiss collarbones before returning to his lips. Swiss feels Mountain's fangs when he slides his tongue into his mouth, both of them fighting for dominance. Mountain’s hands are gripping Swiss hips so tightly there's bound to be bruising tomorrow.
They hear a distant beeping that’s becoming louder and louder, then they realize it was the timer letting them know the dough was done proofing. Swiss pushes Mountain away softly. 
“Give me a second, and then we can continue, we should get these into the oven,” Swiss pants. 
Mountain, panting equally as hard, nods, but he doesn’t let go of him. He holds Swiss by the waist, continuing to kiss his neck while he rolls out the dough and spreads the cinnamon sugar butter on the dough before rolling and cutting them.
Placing the rolls into the oven, Swiss turns and continues to make out with Mountain. Without clearing out the counter, Mountain hoists Swiss up to the counter. The slightly shorter ghoul now towering over him. His hands start to roam underneath Swiss’ shirt, claws scratching lightly into his skin, enough to leave a faint raised line.
“Mount… more,” is all Swiss is able to get out. Mountain unbuttons part of Swiss shirt to give him access to his torso where he licks his V-line, tempted to go below his belt, but he stops himself. Maybe the coffee shop is not the place to suck his soul out through his dick. 
The timer goes off again letting them know the cinnamon rolls were done baking.
Mountain looks up at Swiss’ face, pleading with his eyes to not get off the counter. Swiss laughs and hops off, heading straight to the oven. 
“Would you mind grabbing the frosting from the fridge?”
Mountain nods and hands it to Swiss, who smears it on the warm cinnamon rolls, melting the frosting. 
Mountain discreetly adjusts himself and fixes his clothes before sitting on the bar. He can’t help but stare at the reminder of what occurred just moments ago. Hair messy, lips swollen, cheeks stained red, his shirt unbuttoned and untucked, a few scattered small hickies, little red lines peeking through his opened shirt.  
Mountain swallows hard. He tries to contain himself and let Swiss finish setting up dessert. 
“A cinnamon roll for you, but before you eat it, I have a special drink I’d to make you”
Swiss brings out a jar with green powder, and a bamboo whisk. Pouring a little bit of hot water over the green powder he put in a mug and whisked it until slightly frothy. He goes to the steamer with some oat milk in a cup, steams it then pours it into the mug and pumps some flavoring into it. 
Mountain’s eyes follow him from one station to the next, until the drink is presented in front of him. 
“I present a matcha latte with oat milk and a hint of rose. Try it,” Swiss encourages. 
Mountain takes a sip and it's like tasting a garden. The rose flavor bring out the flavor of the matcha.
“Swiss, this is delicious. It's amazing. It’s comforting. It makes me feel all warm and safe. It tastes like… home, in a way.” 
“I call it the Mountain Special. I was hoping you'd like it.”
“I love it so much,” Mountain smiles so big. He lets out a moan as he bites into the warm roll, “so good.”
Swiss chuckles. Before him there’s a big ghoul with frosting dripping from the corners of his mouth. Using his thumb, Swiss cleans off the frosting before sucking it clean. 
“And I love you, Mountain.” 
-
After cleaning up the kitchen, Swiss walks Mountain back to his apartment, hoping to stay the night and finish what they started in the cafe.
“Thank you for the wonderful date, Swiss. I loved every moment of it. I adore you so much. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure, Mounty.”
“Um, I know you probably want to stay, but I… uh kinda need time to process tonight, if that’s okay,” he explains, twisting his fingers, obviously nervous of some sort of negative reaction.
Swiss is unsure of what to say. “Yeah, no, yeah, that’s okay! I’ll call you tomorrow. Get some rest.” He leans in to give him a kiss, but Mountain turns, his lips landing on his cheek.
“Thanks. Have a goodnight, Swiss, get home safely.” Mountain enters his apartment leaving Swiss confused outside. 
Staring into the darkness of his apartment, he closes his eyes, leans his back against the door. 
“Fuck.” 
He exhales as tears roll down his face. 
Part 3, soon, sorry
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jinxedmuse · 2 days
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best friend - lee sohee, 이소희
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in which: your best friend sohee offers a "no strings attached" relief from the stress of your relationship but finds himself falling in too deep.
an: don't know if you guys have listened to sohee's playlist but he has a lot of romantic songs on there, mainly best friends to lovers centric or heartbroken ones and it made me want him even more..
warnings: cheating, accidental overstimulation, rough sub!sohee, multiple orgasms, lots of whining and begging from sohee, lowk manipulative, degradation, pet names, oral, sohee is older than reader by like 4 months, reader's bf is eunseok...
playlist: sex eden, get up newjeans, like you do joji, to. ex taeyeon, i feel it coming wknd
wc: 2.1k... been going feral over sohee the last couple of days, had to get it out my system, consider this my comeback?
movie nights at your place on friday were a mandatory tradition you've had with your best friend, lee sohee for over five years.
this year, due to a recent (almost a year) addition to your life (a boyfriend) the sense of freedom that came with this night significantly decreased. what was supposed to be a night to catch up with your best friend, free of stress from external sources had turned into check-ins with your boyfriend every hour or so and an uncomfortable amount of distance between you and sohee, physically as well.
this wasn't necessarily because your boyfriend saw sohee as a threat, i mean, he looked like a mini duck you win at a fair or something. sohee is shy but humorous, mischievous but respectful. yet your boyfriend always felt like something was (in his words) "off" about how sohee always stuck at your side sometimes s little too literally and close for comfort.
you dismissed it, insisting your close relationship had stemmed from a bond built off being relentlessly teased together since high school. that, "sohee isn't like that. we're just best friends is all. trust me" you'd say, fully believing yourself as well, because how could your relationship ever change after 5 years?
easy.
you were currently sending your boyfriend his 3rd "update" within the past hour. you hear a loud sigh coming from sohee's side of the couch. you finish sending your text before looking up.
"i know, i know. sorry, you know how he is, just overprotective is all" you say in defense, already knowing what your best friend was about to complain about.
sohee doesn't face you, instead, laser-focused on the movie you both were barely even watching. trying to ignore the heavy change in dynamic ever since you got into a relationship.
"i know" he starts whining, twisting the hem of the throw cover that was over his lower half, a heavy feeling in his heart. "it's just that we hardly get to hang out together as it is, and when we do you're glued to your phone."
you weighed on his words while looking at him. his voice was soft and shaky but showed no signs of tears in his eyes. his beauty marks scattered all around his face, some trailing in his collarbones and ears. fueled by a sudden pang of guilt you toss your phone onto the table in front of you and crawl over to shoes side of the couch. earning a sly smile from the smaller-framed boy.
"this close? how scandalous" he jokes, opening up the throw cover so you can get underneath it with him. safe distance, of course. you sling an arm around him immediately earning a groaned laugh as he tries to push you off. you tussle his hair until his grip gurns into more of a pained restrict with one hand and he lands you onto your back.
sohee is now on top of you, both his legs at each of your sides, his necklace, part of the set the two of you had although you haven't been wearing yours recently hanging in front of your face. his oversized shit that was a little too big for him leaving a gap between the collar and his neck, chest slightly exposes.
you were too engulfed in his scent, clean laundry, one you've always found comforting, to realize he was full-on staring at your lips. a hard-on slowly forming and straining against his cargo pants.
"why do you keep forgetting i'm older than you, huh?" he teases. the truth is sohee is older than you by 4 months. however, when you first met (since you were already in the same grade) you were so adamant about dropping honorifics. insisting that technically you were "same-age friends."
once you realize he's staring at your lips your mouth suddenly goes dry, and you push out a forced laugh. trying to ignore the heat coming from between your legs, suddenly realizing how heavy he feels on top of you. You couldn't bring yourself to push sohee off despite how wrong it was. this was still innocent, right?
"i didn't forget," you say, your own eyes now stuck on his pink lips "i just don't care." you tease back, trying to overturn the situation but his grip remains steady, not letting you get up. just feeble squirms now and then.
do you not see me as a man? he asked, it was a whimper the way it came out so whiny. you giggle at this, not taking the boy on top of you seriously.
he tilts his head, sizing you up and down. eyes stopping right at your boobs, your nipples hard and visible through your thin shirt. he shifts his weight so that now he's sitting directly on top of you. his bulge that was now rock hard right over your heat. "don't you want things to go back to the way they were?" he asked innocently.
you feel like a spell had been cast on you, his slight pressure on your cunt caused it to flex around nothing, aching to be touched but you couldn't do that to your boyfriend. you shake your head in disagreement. "what do you mean sohee, and why are you still on me idiot" you ask jokingly, trying to lighten the tension in the room now. the movie was long forgotten.
"oh cmon' he starts again, "don't you ever get bored of" he gets interrupted by your phone ringing, a special tone you had set for only your boyfriend. it was starting to piss sohee off.
why was his precious time with you always getting interrupted by your insolent waste of a boyfriend? "of that" he grunted out, dipping so that his member was now grinding down on you. you hold back your moans, throwing your head back. ashamed at the amount of pleasure you felt.
this isn't right, you tried to reason with yourself. you have a boyfriend, sohee is your best friend, but fuck, does it feel good the way he was messily rutting himself against you. practically dry humpin' you.
"sohee." you managed to choke out through moans "this isn't right" you object, fighting your hands from going up and pulling him closer to you.
"it's not cheating if you don't do anything back, just let me make you feel good please, huh princess? don't you remember how good i was? don't you want to know how much i improved" he asks, leaving slopping kisses down your neck, his slim hands roaming all over your body, tugging at your clothes.
he was currently referring to back what happened on a hot summer day during freshmen year up in your old tree house that barely fit the growing bodies of two best friends. you can still remember how hot it was, sweat sticking to your bodies before you had even started anything.
your frames uncomfortable in the one-size-too-small tree house, it was awkward, but it felt so sexy back then, and yet as soon as he was done, the reality of what you had done hit you and you couldn't look at each other for a week once school started.
once you got over it, you vowed to never do something as reckless to your friendship as that again.
2 years later during senior year, you fucked. you were each other's first, and you both wanted to "get it out the way" as college was right at your doorsteps. the nerve-wracking idea of losing it to some stranger didn't make sense, right? i mean what better way to lose it than in the back of your first car, during the first snow of winter, with your best friend, for your first time?
you had both pushed it aside. vowing it was just to not be behind your college peers and to never speak of it again. not wanting to add to the statics of why "men and women can't be friends", whatever that meant. sohee entered and left a few relationships after that. always breaking them off because he got bored after a certain point. he was single right now, opposite to you who was in a relationship.
this was wrong. every fiber of your being knew it was wrong but it was the first time you and sohee were alone together in a while. His eyes were full of lust, everything about him currently oozed sex appeal and you wanted him badly. there was no denying that with the way your cunt kept clamming around nothing, begging for attention.
sohee takes one of his hands and brings it down to your cunt, the heat he feels coming from it is almost instant. "look at you, acting like you don’t want it but you’re so fucking turned on right now" he says as he rubs his hand onto your clothed cunt.
you bite your lip, holding back a moan at his vulgar words. "it's a normal bodily reaction if you’re practically humping me, i have a boyfriend." you beg, eyes leading yet your body betraying you every time he gently rubs your pussy.
"who do love more?" he asks getting closer, “my boyfriend" you pathetically strain out at a last attempt to redeem yourself for doing this. he licks your ear lov slowly, biting the too which earns a moan from you before trailing back down to your neck with small wet pecks. his hand was still on your cunt and you were now grinding onto it.
"who makes you feel better huh? me?" he asks when he gets to your breast, he removes his hand from your cunt earning a desperate mewl from you, immediately missing his touch on you.
"look at you, rutting your desperate little pussy to get some relief from your best friend, but you expect me to believe you love your boyfriend? huh, whore?" he growls in between sloppy kisses and sucks to your nipple, twisting them every time you shook your head to try and tried to deny his (very true) allegations.
he watches as your back arches from the sofa a bit, his aching cock begging to be freed but he isn't satisfied yet. he takes the other hand that was holding both of yours up and brings it down to your cunt, slipping into your extremely short shorts and going over your delicate panties
you were already wet, his fingers slipping against your puffy lips way too easily. “look at you~~~~" he says in a mocking tone, "all wet for me, baby? beg and i’ll make you feel good" he taunts unto your ear. you nod your head immediately "please sohee, f-fuck i need you to touch me"
"i’m sorry slut, what was that?"
you chase his fingers, eyes teary at his teasing "please, hee fuck me" you cry in desperation, nails digging into his shirt, pulling him closer.
at this point, you were too horny to care about how desperate you seemed, becoming an incoherent mess full of whining and begging.
sohee falls completely apart, drooling at your blubbering mess, he likes two of his slim digits, pointer, and middle finger, and thrust them into your throbbing cunt, curling them slightly,
your back arches almost completely off the couch, both your hands gripping his forearms in pure bliss, eyes shut in concentration on how good it all feels.
his slim digits entering and exiting you with such precision and a bit of roughness, curling up in all the right spots had you panting excessively, beads of sweat already forming on your forehead.
the faster and harsher he went, occasionally bringing his yup to play with your budded clit, you clam harder around him. suffocating his fingers, they dragged out of you in a way that made you see stars when you were dizzy.
"fuck-fuck, hee i think, nghnnn, i'm about to, fuck, come" you wring it, spit at the side of your mouth from it being slack open as you moaned underneath him, chest heaving up and down
your pathetic state doesn't take away from sohee's own though; he's as much of a whining, moaning mess as you are. his head all foggy from how pretty you looked underneath him, sweat coating your soft skin as your puffy lips were wrapped around his fingers. his member was practically budging out of his pants, beads forming on his forehead in concentration but last minute he got an idea.
he pulls out his fingers with a swiftness that makes you practically cry. your eyes snap open, a pout as you look at him. confused at this sudden action. "let me stuff myself inside you and then taste your cum, huh? what do you think about that princess~~" he asks in his usual teasing voice. moments like this when he was giving you brain fog you remembered he was your best friend.
but that didn't matter right now, you needed to be fucked dumb. so you just nod your head like a pathetic bitch in heat and he smiles, quickly unzipping his pants and pulling down his boxers.
his dick is now free and you almost faint at the sight. he was clean-shaven, with balls the perfect size for you to cup in your hand. he wasn't huge or even too thick but he was long, long, and veiny, his dick was a light hue of pink while his tip was beaming red. streams of pre cum endlessly flowing out. you moaned at the sight, looking at it with begging eyes.
he's satisfied with your reaction, knowing you hadn't seen it since that night two years ago during senior year in the back seat of your car. he suddenly felt like he was on top of the world, an ego boost surging through him as he watched how you looked at his member longingly.
he gives his dick a few pumps over your cunt, his cum leaking onto you, "you want me to stuff you baby? all bare while you have a man waiting for your call?"
his questions bring heat to your cheeks, God you were such an asshole for this but you needed sohee so desperately you felt like you were going to cry if you didn't have him inside you. you watch the way his cum leaks into you as he's pumping himself above you and you find yourself subconsciously bringing up your lower body so your cunt could meet up.
he pushes you back down, a smirk on his face
"be patient, it's the least a whore could do" with one last painful squeeze he takes both your legs and put them onto his shoulders, he aligns himself with your core and spit on his hand, slapping your cunt one last time before inserting his tip into.
you let out an animalistic mewl at how much pleasure that simple act gave you but you barely have any time to adjust yourself before he slams himself fully into you
you try to pull back away, but the pressure was too much, you looked down and felt like you could see his cock slamming in and out of you. it was so slim and long that it hit all the right places on the first try. your chest was heaving up and down the same way it did after you ran a marathon or chased after your bus. the amount of pleasure you were experiencing was driving you crazy, he pulled you back in by your waist, eyebrows furrowed.
you felt so full like you were about to pee. "I can't; fuck i'm-close can't take it" you cry out trying out again to back up but he takes both his hands and cozily and pushes himself deeper into you, he hit the spot that makes you cum and as if on the command you do exactly that. a mix of squirting and creamy come going all over his balls and coating his base, even getting on his toned stomach. fuck he was in love
the sight of you coming and moaning all because of him has him doing the same, he holds your waist in position and cums in you, not pulling out until you were full of every last drop of his seed. you felt yourself practically getting filled up as if you had just eaten. the feeling was pure ecstasy, your boyfriend always pulled out even when you begged.
you stare at each other for a moment, what was once lust got replaced by something else which stirred a desire in the pits of your stomach. you get interrupted by the rining if that special tone once more, you start to reach f for it but sohee grabs your hand and slams it down next to you.
"don't," he says sternly. it was supposed to sound like a command but it almost sounded like he was begging, pleading for your attention to stay on him. you nodded with starry eyes, still coming down from the incredible high he had just given you.
he crouches down and you sit up halfway on your elbows sorta confused, suddenly he pulls your in and hurridly barries his face into your cunt. it started a lot romantic as if he were making out with your cunt. delicate kisses to your inter thigh, slower pulling on your lips, and tender licks on your clit. you sigh in bliss, but you lose your balance when he strikes his tongue into your core, a finger at your clit playing with it in a circular motion that has you moaning profanities.
his tongue would occasionally go flat to slurp up the combination of both your juices, your cum mixed was now coated on his tongue and around his offy pink lips, he ate you out like he was a starved animal. his grip on your hip grew firmer the more you moaned his name. his dick was now slightly hard again and he found himself pathetically rutting against the couch as he ate you out to offer himself some form of relief.
you come again, this time in his mouth and he doesn't waste a second licking up all your wetness, moaning at how good you taste, drowning you in praises for coming for him twice. your leg was shaking, toes curled at the overstimulation when suddenly siri starts reading out loud a recent message sent 1 minute ago:
"eunseokie says: 'why haven't you been answering? i'm outside, i'm coming up now.' one minute ago. Would you like to reply?"
"NO", you yell out in a rush, sitting up and suddenly too aware of your current state sohee lifts his head, he sees the look on your face and knows his fun with you is over.
sohee purposely drags his tongue out of you at a slow, painful pace that ears one last moan out from you before he sits up, throwing his head back onto the couch while pulling up his boxers and pants, stuffing his still aching cos into them.
you get off the couch and look around for your panties but they are still in sohee's pants, you bend down and reach for them from his pocket but even with his eyes closed he gets a grip on your wrist and shakes his head. "don't even bother"
you let out an exasperated huff, legs still far too weak to be arguing right now. you calculated in your head and realized your boyfriend, eunseok should be coming up in approximately two minutes. you take a crumbled-up napkin from your table and use it to wipe anything off yourself before moving sohee out of the way you were down the couch before tossing it in the bin.
you then grab the throw blanket you were wearing and throw it into the washer, tossing in a random detergent before starting it.
"c'mon, sohee don't do this to me you have to go before he gets her-" your sentence is cut off by the sound of keys jiggling.
sohee gets up, and he looks at you in a way that makes your heart hurt. he runs a hand through his hair before he leans in to kiss you, catching you completely off guard. you don't let yourself enjoy the kiss, backing up before wiping your lips with the back of your hand, eyes almost popping out of your sockets.
you hear the door open and sohee smirks, smiling as he makes his way to the from. you follow loosely behind him.
sohee and eunseok met right at the door as sohee was bending down to finish tying up his shoes.
"ah, hyung nice to see you again," sohee says as he pulls together his most polite smile, even sticking out his hand for a handshake. eunseok looks down at it and shakes it, giving a curt smile as he enters.
"are we close enough for you to call me hyung" he asked, you'd be lying if you said he didn't look good. jet black hair parted to the side, a cocky and passive-aggressive smile plastered on his face. sohee noticed the way you looked at eunseok and felt bitterness grow in his heart, and that was the one thing he had never been.
you clear your throat and approach your boyfriend, slightly limping before wrapping your arms around his neck, eunseok drops sohee's hands and pulls you into an embrace by your waist. it hurts slightly because sohee was just gripping them but you plaster your fake smile, holding back a whimper of pain. sohee looks at you both before he heads out the door.
with you still at his side, eunseok holds the door handle, watching the younger boy in front of him with daggers.
"ah, there's something on your lip, over here" eunseok points out to the younger boy, pointing a finger to his top lip to point out where the "thing" is.
soheee brings his finger up to where it is and looks at his hand after, it was your wetness, still on his face, in front of your fucking boyfriend. you mentally face-palm yourself and pray to the universe your boyfriend is too fired to guess what that is.
sohee drags it into his mouth, strategically sucking on his finger with an innocent smile. "thanks hyung, reader gave me a nice, warm, toaster struddle earlier. i'm a bit of a messy eater tho" he says with a slightly narcissistic laugh as he shoves his hands into his pocket, you can see in one pocket he's fumbling with something, your panties to be exact.
yeah, time to wrap this up, you thought to yourself before tugging in eunseok's long-sleeved leather jacket, you pulled him back before giving sohee a curt nod and apologetic smile that only the two of you knew.
sohee's heart felt heavy, and you couldn't put it into words but yours did too. he gave a nod back as if all was fine as if he understood but you could tell by the look on his face that his heart was breaking right in front of you and you were the cause, you slowly shut the door but your boyfriend locks it before you could even register the situation you almost got caught in and the heavy feeling in your chest.
eunseok pulls you away from the door, sighing as he walks and leads you to your living room, the living room where you just came twice.
you look up once you hear eunseok cough a bit and let go of your hand, plopping down on your couch.
"by the way, why is the washing machine on so late?'
--
an: hey! muse here, how'd you enjoy this short nonsense i whipped up after almost 6 months(?) of ghosting you all, haha.. but really, if i told you guys everything that happened to me since what i last dropped, you wouldn't even believe me. i'm still quite busy but i missed you guys, and i missed writing. i'm not going to make any promises on how frequently i'll update but for now, fuck it, why not say i'm back lol. i hope you guys enjoyed :)
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ruershrimo · 3 days
Text
take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 6: beginning
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ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev
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chapter synopsis:
'“Why else do you think I am the way I am? I may be shy and scatterbrained, or a horrible woman with a muddled sense of morality or what I think should and should not happen, when in reality it’s just what I want to happen. But this is why I’m so resolute, and so stubborn. This is why I love you so fiercely. All mothers are like that to some degree, even if my own would never let me bear witness to it.”
You haven’t told her you love her too in years.'
'And Itadori seems… like a good person. I think it’s good, that… you were able to find a friend like that.”
“It was. He’s a really, really good guy.”
“You love him a lot,” Megumi says.
---
You and Megumi set out to prevent an emergency involving Yuuji and a cursed object. Unfortunately, that doesn't happen. But at least everyone is fine in the end, even if it means you'll have to walk away from almost everything (or maybe it's the other way around).
You're going to be all on your own. Still, now it seems like this will hurt less now.
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word count: ~8k; tws: none for now :)
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17-6-2018 
The two of you walk down the lane. It’s midnight. There’s a loitering silence in the air, no words exchanged between you and him, and it twists your heart in brief moments of hurt when you’re not trying to keep your mind occupied with other things. Your legs move subconsciously without you caring to think of them, the route to the hospital ingrained in your mind as if intrinsically there. 
At some point, you think your hand with its sweat and its grip is going to leave imprints like a marring on his skin, but it’s of your own selfishness that you choose to hold onto his wrist anyway. 
There’s a million things you could say to him right now, things you’ll forcefully push to the very back of your throat, things you’ll keep under lock and key in a mangled mix of quiet anticipation and sombre anxieties. Right now you’re holding his wrist and that’s enough for you, to have him walking behind you if not beside, to be two people near each other— not together— in silence since any conversation is not an option; any conversation could lead to the last spark needed to be fanned into the flame for it to erupt bigger and brighter than ever before. 
If you asked about Tsumiki right now, or why either of them never bothered to speak to you since 2016, it could break you apart, of that you’re sure. And even without words it threatens to do so to you like a chandelier of melting wax candles hanging above you being suspended precariously from the ceiling or light lightning soon to be thrown down mercilessly from the sky. 
“The turning to Sendai Hospital is on the right.” 
“I know the routes better,” you let out, and rather disappointingly it sounds brasher and more derogatory aloud instead of the unobtrusive tone you were aiming for— you hope it doesn’t hurt him but then wonder why you still even cared that much about how he felt about what you said or did anyway, “I got myself accustomed to taking the one on the left that leads you through. Quick shortcut and all.” 
You’re not looking back, but the light pull of his hand from the hold of your wrist seems to suggest his slight reeling back in a small sense of surprise and an equal amount of shock, as if suddenly remembering the fact you were your own person, that you had your own autonomy as one, because somehow everyone thought you weren’t. 
It’s strange to look back at how you were before: meek, timid. Too shy to speak up. Too innocent to be angered by anything. Always dreaming, mind bleary as if on a cloud in blurred skies, hiding behind the backs of others like a petrified forest critter. 
And now you’re this— this person who frowns and disagrees and retorts at every little thing, and as much as you have to, as much as it was nearly inevitable the way you turned out, all you can think you share with the person you were when you first met Megumi and Tsumiki was your need to be useful— and even that has been exacerbated by how you’ve grown, how you’ve become this person you grew into. And a part of you— no, just you as a whole— doesn’t like yourself at all. 
Your father was right. That little girl was hopeful, obedient, kind, caring— you don’t know why even then you were dissatisfied with the way you were, or why your dissatisfaction would matter because at that time you’d cared so little about everything besides caring for people and having fun with the pair of siblings that you were so rarely bothered by it, that it was still just a slight whisper from the back of your head that could be shushed or tuned out with library visits and nights in front of the TV and the glow of old cartoons. Your father was right and this is proved even more by the fact that the whole situation just infuriates you on the surface, and just makes you feel like an empty, hollow shell left behind when you reach deeper into yourself. 
That little girl had potential, potential to be useful but kind, obedient and close to the people who raised her even if it meant abandoning her own ideals. But you’d been so devoted to them, you think, that she was killed and destroyed in the world she grew up in, and now there’s a space for her that’s left vacant due to the way she wasted away. You miss her, the girl you once were, you miss being her, how easy and lighthearted everything was and how all of you felt so content in every sense of the word. But you don’t want her back. Now that’s just what makes you miserable sometimes. 
Self-reflection just made you feel revolted by yourself. You keep your eyes on the road. 
“It’s here,” you state, pointing at the building in front of you. 
Sendai General Hospital is an institution made out of bare concrete. Its walls are yellowed and close in on its wards like a prison, coloured using old paint that hasn’t been repainted over and is as pallid-looking as the skin of the people sitting on the beds it is inhabited by. Just being in it feels like a hit to the body and the brain and the senses, too. There are old-fashioned tiles on its floors, their pale beige hue muted yet the blinding shine on them harshly mopped clean. Inside it reeks of an imminent presence of sickness or death or illnesses and conditions never to be able to be defeated and sterile sanitisers. Looking at the latex-blue curtains in it feels like a blindfold unwantedly, forcefully pulled over both your vision and your ears. 
“You and that Itadori seem close.” 
“We are,” you say, then you add, not really knowing why, “He’s my best friend.” Maybe you’re trying to make him jealous, rile him up a bit. But even then you wouldn’t want him to be riled up, nor would you be satisfied if he were to keep silent. Maybe you just wanted to hurt him, to hurt him back or something, if only for something small, even if you’d already resolved not to do so. 
You’ll make sure not to do that again, though. 
Instead he does something else, takes another route instead. “Then it seems you visit his grandfather often.” 
“Uh-huh,” you nod as the two of you enter the hospital, and you have to blink a few times as always in order to adjust yourself to the light and how it reflects off the detachedly clean floor. “My mother’s here, too.” 
“Oh, I’m sorry— is she alright?” 
“She’s okay, I… think. She… she got sick a while back and stays here now,” you explain, “Let’s not talk about that…—I mean, I… don’t really want to.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
“You don’t have to keep saying that.” It just makes people feel worse. 
He doesn’t push further and you suppose that’s okay. Your chest hurts a bit, like phantom pain on a wound that’s still there. There’s not really a way to explain it but almost everything makes you feel that way these days. Everything makes you feel horrible to some degree. Maybe it’s being a girl, maybe it’s being a teenager, but it’s not quite either, you guess. 
“He won’t be here for a while,” you say, “He’s either still in the room where his grandfather is or he’s buying flowers for him.” 
“Then I’ll just contact them and let them know the whole situation first.” 
Who’s ‘them’? 
“Okay.” You turn your back on him, “—wait.” 
“What?” 
“Do you have any emergency contact or something? Like, a trusted adult who could help you with any of this? In case things go really bad?” 
“...why would you need one?” he questions. 
You roll your eyes, “Just give it to me, damn it… if there’s anything I have nowadays, it’s probably foresight for stuff like this. For emergencies.” 
He gives you the number, albeit a bit begrudgingly. Why’d he have to be so pissy about anything and everything? 
“Okay, thanks. I’m going to visit my mother now.” 
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The air and the colour from it seems distant as always, the ward she was basically imprisoned in smelling of the indistinguishable mix of sanitiser and sickness. There her body chains her to her bed, and there is little she can do besides rely on and weakly cling to the nurses who assist her, a frail shadow of what she once was. 
“Hi, Mummy.” 
She turns to you, and your chest constricts. Her hair, once much longer, the type that you dreamed to have as it billowed in the wind, the type that invited you caressively to bury yourself in and take in that heady scent of roses that emanated from it— that hair is now replaced with a cloth wrapped around her head. Radiation. Chemotherapy. 
The wrinkles on her face make the difference between her now and her years ago all the more stark. Every visit you come back here, you’ve forced yourself to be acclimated to this new reality, one where she isn’t waiting at home no matter how tedious the fights get or how exhausting it was eating with someone who remained silent, someone who chose to continue suffering if it meant she could hurt and turn her daughter to guilt (as if that would change anything). At least she was there. 
Cancer is a terminal illness, especially the type your mother is facing— regardless of how much chemotherapy she would struggle through and how much you didn’t want to acknowledge a truth so plain and conspicuously bare, she would be confined to this bed until her final days, her illness like gyves tying her limbs and forcing her earthbound; the bed a cage she could never be liberated from. 
Sometimes she made it a point to you that she didn’t want to liberate herself from it anyway, and you’d never been so depressed yet irked by anything else. (You’d regret everything— not spending time with her, not appreciating her nearly enough— except for your decision to be involved in the Jujutsu world, if not as a sorcerer then as a doctor. That was, and is— your ultimatum. Your end all be all of this whole situation.” 
“Hello. Where’s that Itadori boy?” 
“Not here today, he’s still with his grandfather— maybe later.” You swing your bag over your shoulder, rummaging through it a while before pulling it out. “I’ve something for you, by the way.” 
“Oh! These,” she exclaims, and she smiles faintly, bits of colour rushing back to her face like watercolour dots on moistened paper. “I used to make them for you, sometimes. They used to be your favourite when you were really little.” 
“I know,” you explain, “That’s why I made them. I don’t like them anymore, but… I can’t remember your favourite food or if I ever asked, and I know you don’t like the food they give you here as much as… I don’t know. Your own cooking, I guess.” 
“It’s not my favourite,” she states, matter-of-factly, bluntly, “But thank you for the effort. My favourite will always be my own mother’s cooking.” 
Silence. 
“Now that I look back at everything, there are so many things I regret. Things I should have done but never did out of fear; things I should not have done and never apologised for out of pride. I’d like it if you could be different. Your grandmother went out the same way. At least, even if you had the same illnesses as we did, which I hope the genes for which have been curbed by your father’s— at least you would not leave the world with regret,” she looks down at her hands, staring down at them solemnly like a shadow, an excluded figure. “But it was a good life.” 
“...then maybe you can tell me more. While you— while we still have time. What was your childhood like? What was your mother like?” It feels strange, imposturous, maybe— to be referring to someone basically a stranger as “grandmother”, to name someone so far away from you so intimate, even if the only generation between you, tying the two of you together, was your mother’s. If you had a daughter it would be the same for her, most likely. There’s a part of you that would find honour in becoming your mother once you’d grown, but there’s a part of you that would think being such would accost you horribly, for all time. 
She sighs, “I’ll tell you later. There would be so much to say, like compressing all my words into one tiny paper. The stories have weight in them the same way letters and words in handwriting can be firm and large. But if I were to start,” she begins, “I’ll say that I was born as the daughter of two very powerful sorcerers. Now, I know how much this would sound like some nonsense spouted by your mother, but I think you should listen anyway. 
“My parents loved each other a lot, but my mother had come from an obscure clan whose name I can’t remember, but who had high hopes in them having a child with a powerful cursed technique as their last resort, since, if I recall correctly, there had been a crisis within the clan for it to keep surviving. 
“I still remember when they found out I had no cursed technique and how terrified they were. In me I had a bit more than the relatively normal amount of cursed energy most people have, and so I was expected to have techniques as powerful as they did. They loved me and treated me preciously, like a fragile object, so long as I was quiet and demure— and I guess to some extent I still was and still am today. They wondered what they could do to run from the clan, as if they didn’t have enough power when they were supposed to protect me despite my father’s bullheaded industry and my mother’s patience-formed strength. They lacked grit to grapple against them, and only in this did they lack it, I think; only against my mother’s family did they not have the ability to resolve things whether peacefully or violently. And eventually they just gave up and thought they would just… surrender me over when I entered my adolescent years. I was their daughter. I… suppose they didn’t love me enough. I know it sounds awful— thinking that they should have always protected me, through and through—” 
“No, it wasn’t.” 
“—when it could have been the clan itself that would have been mostly to blame.” 
“But they were still supposed to protect you! They were your parents—” 
“Why else do you think I am the way I am? I may be a shy and scatterbrained or a horrible woman with a muddled sense of morality or what I think should and should not happen when in reality it’s just what I want to happen, but this is why I’m so resolute, and so stubborn. This is why I love you so fiercely. All mothers are like that to some degree, even if my own would never let me bear witness to it.” You haven’t told her you love her too in years. 
“But then when I was an adult I met your father, who was a bit like a country bumpkin, but a formidable sorcerer and a kind, honest person, and I couldn’t help but fall in love with the person he was both inside and out. And for the next few years we struggled to have a child until I found out I was pregnant with you,” she continues, “Even though by that time I was well into my late thirties, we were overjoyed and decided to keep you.” 
Suddenly you wish there had been more time before things were ruined. Time for you to know her better, the beginning of your existence. You would have begged her for old photos, stories, mementos of her and your father. 
“And now the clan’s faded into obscurity, finally. The younger members left and the older ones passed away peacefully. Happy story, right?” 
“...yeah.” It all ended well, but you don’t know if you can say the same for your mother’s. At least, you hope, when she goes away, it can be swift and peaceful like the way her relatives did. 
Then suddenly there’s a buzz in your pocket. An inconvenient one, out of the blue. 
“You should go get that first,” she says. 
“...okay.” 
You lift it up to your face and feel like crushing the damn thing. Old number. Stupid number. Number you haven’t called in months because you’d given up on that bastard— oh. The two of you were working together now. 
You turn away from your mother, creeping to the edge of the room. “What’s wrong?” 
“I just talked to him, but I think it would be easier if you came back and was there with him too since you know him better than I do. And he… doesn’t seem like the brightest. He may think that it’s not important enough to hand over unless you ask him to or something.” 
You muffle your voice with your hand and whisper, “Hey, you shut up, you know nothing about him. He’s way smarter than people give him credit for. But I’m— I’m with my mother right now. Wait for a second. Just ask him to wait for me first; he wouldn’t need any of my help for all of this yet. Make a friend or get a life or something.” 
“...fine. But you’ll have to join us later. He’s bound to ask about you.” 
“Then just tell him I’m with my mother!” you snap, still whispering. 
“I’ll see what I can do.” 
“Wh— you little— oh, don’t you hang up now—” 
Weird thing is, he probably wasn’t even being so infuriating on purpose. And you wouldn’t have burst out at someone for being that way anyway. It was only because it was him, specifically. 
You’d sworn to put that past you. 
Your immaturity strikes once again. 
“If you have to go now,” your mother says, “You should. Just come back again next time. I can tell you the rest. Thank you again for the food, [Name].” She doesn’t call you ‘darling’ anymore, doesn’t she? Just your name. 
“Okay. Sorry.” 
You swing the bag back over your shoulder, wearing it this time instead of taking it off, easing your way out of the room. 
“It’s okay,” she assures you, “Goodbye. I love you.” 
“...I love you, too,” you say, but it’ll mingle with all the other sounds in the hospital, and it’ll be drowned out like a ship in the middle of nowhere, your voice soft and thoroughly soused by the cacophony of bleak noises like telephone rings and beeps from electrocardiographs outside of her deafeningly quiet hospital room. 
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“Hi, Yuuji,” you greet them in the dimly lit waiting area, “...and Megumi. Sorry to keep the two of you guys waiting for so long.” 
“Oh, hey; it’s okay!” he goes, although in his voice it seems that there’s been some of his usual energy seeping away from him. “Didn’t know the two of you knew each other until just now or that you were a part of some magic curse society. Are you guys childhood friends who met because of all that cursed stuff or something?” 
“Something like that,” Megumi explains. 
“It’s a long story,” you say, not exactly denying him nor conceding his words anyway. Once again, there’s a trace of anger despite your promise to be untethered to your puerility like this. “Anyway, are you okay, Yuuji? How’s your grandfather?” 
He pauses. “Oh, about that… he just passed away.” 
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Yuuji…” you hold the fabric of his jacket (sometimes it still feels wrong to try and hold his hand— it just makes your heart ache again like a scab being clawed at) and pull him into a brief caress, patting his back as gently as you can manage. 
“It’s okay, I’ll be fine,” he smiles as you pull yourself away, “Grandpa wouldn’t want me to be crying right now anyway. So don’t worry.” 
“Okay, I won’t. But if you’re sad, just know you can always talk to me.” 
He laughs, softer than the boisterous manner he usually does so in, “Yeah, I know.” 
Megumi clears his throat, pointedly trying to make a sound, “Anyway. Itadori Yuuji—” 
“Just call him Itadori. You don’t have to be so uptight.” 
“Nah, [Name], I’m fine—” 
Megumi sighs. “Anyway, we need you to give the cursed object now.” 
“Oh, yeah, that,” you start, “So, Yuuji, do you have the thing that Megumi would have explained to you? The cursed object? We need it for everyone to be safe, and all.” 
“Yeah! Hold on, let me get it. I told you I didn’t have it already, but here’s the box,” he says, tossing it over to Megumi. 
He retrieves the box. It’s ancient and wooden, the craftsmanship behind it elite and adroit, and the paper on it has the words for a buddhist sutra written on it like an inscription. You’ve heard of it before, the kind of curse it was meant to seal, but it definitely couldn’t be— 
He opens the box. 
Holy shit. 
“Where is it?” 
“It’s empty…” Megumi panics, “Wait— hold on!” 
Things are bad— as in, they couldn’t get any worse— not only was the school doomed by the loss of its cursed object, the cursed object was Sukuna Ryomen’s finger itself. 
You blame your inadequacy, your inability to have stopped everything sooner— if not for that nobody would have gotten hurt. If not for that there wouldn’t even be a risk of anything happening anyway. You should’ve tried harder to sense it, and you should’ve focused more on it to keep the student body safe and sound. 
It was your fault. No one else was to blame but your useless self, and even if that were wrong, you’d still have the most to be blamed for. 
Megumi has a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder, keeping the other boy from moving, his breathing erratic and his eyes wide in frantic shock. 
“...well, they were saying, ‘let’s open it up to see what’s inside it tonight’,” Yuuji clarifies, standing a few centimetres away from the door, “Why? Is that bad?” 
Sasaki and Iguchi? 
The air in the hospital feels particularly chilly tonight, gooseflesh terrorising your skin all over, and for all the kinds of reasons that would cause anything like such. 
“It’s way worse than bad,” Megumi declared, fear and grim so thick in his voice they were tangible enough to be cut through with a knife. “Your friends are going to die.” 
“We’ve got to go,” you rush, “Now! Quick!” 
It passes by like a blur, as if you’re in that moment and out of it simultaneously. Your mind has been bombarded with and pressed so thoroughly onto the moment, like tissue on a wet surface, that it seems it’s being blanked out, while your legs continue to run despite your mind nearly forgetting, at this point, why you’re running— as if your legs moving so frantically to help them was something intrinsic, something you didn’t need your mind for. 
Sasaki and Iguchi are in danger. Sasaki and Iguchi are in danger. 
You didn’t know them all too well, really— just through Yuuji, and Yuuji himself wasn’t as close to the two of them, being their junior and all. And although a part of you was doing this just because you could, like the way you did when you first discovered your cursed technique, you knew that another was doing this for Yuuji. If in any way they were hurt or could not survive, he would blame himself to no end. He possessed such a kindness within him, so much that it hit the depths of your soul sometimes; shattered your heart so gently a million times over or heated it in the kindly way mothers heated pans on stoves despite the heat of it being greater than that of blue flame. If anything happened to them, no matter how much or how little he knew of them, he wouldn’t be able to live after that. 
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The two of them are near the barrier separating the school from the street before you (you struggle with catching up to them— one’s a star athlete and another has been training for much longer than you, you’re sure), the gates tall and enveloped in darkness. You didn’t think much of school except for when it came to your grades and being with Yuuji, thinking of these gates— the ones that you and Yuuji use when you’re running super late— in particular as just a shortcut entrance you paid little attention to, just something treated with indifference as you passed through them whenever you were late. Yet now they echoed denial, refusal, and slim chances— it was unlikely that they’d be alright, especially since this cursed object in particular was the finger of Sukuna Ryomen. 
“Is that the building?” Megumi questions, “Where are they?” 
“Fourth floor— guh!” Yuuji seems to come to an abrupt halt, nearly slamming into what seems to be an invisible wall. A veil. 
“Yuuji!” 
“I’ll handle this,” Megumi declares, hopping onto the metal wires, more directed to Yuuji than you. So even he can tell how selfless Yuuji is, even after only having just met him. 
“I may not know those two that well, but—” Yuuji starts, “But they’re friends! I have to help!” 
“You’re staying here,” Megumi commands, “[Name], if you could— get your father or any sorcerers you know to come here and help.” 
He climbs over the gate. 
He’s going away from you again. Slipping away from your grasp. And now, all you can do is watch. There’s nothing else— nothing else you can do, at all. If you went inside now, you wouldn’t be able to help except— what?— tend to their injuries? Manipulate your own cells into weapons? The former wasn’t possible with how much you’d strained yourself from running so quickly earlier, and the latter was too dangerous: you hadn’t even started with the basics of that yet, on your father’s obstinate insistence that even if he’d let you play doctor he wouldn’t let you manipulate any of the cells in your body into any kind of usable weapon. Any simple wrong move could make things turn south in the most drastically terrifying of ways. If you went in there, you’d just die, and there’d be more casualties, more trouble, more problems caused by you and you alone. 
You can’t even call your father, either. That would always be your last resort— because even if you fought, you still needed him to rest. You didn’t want him overexerting himself by using his cursed technique at all. 
(You were selfish. You didn’t want to lose your father. You didn’t want to have to visit not one but two parents lying sick and tired and grey in matching hospital beds.) 
“Yuuji?” you start, turning to him. “You’re…deathly quiet. Are you okay?” 
His lips quiver slightly, a faint whimpering noise coming out of him. Is he crying? 
“Yuuji, look at me. Are you okay?” you ask, as gently and softly as you can right now, despite your ragged, unsteady, unathletic-addled breaths. You place a hand on his shoulder, slowly rubbing up and down from his shoulder and crook of his neck to his back. “It’s okay. …Megumi’s a good and… capable, strong person and jujutsu sorcerer. He’ll be okay, and they’ll be okay too. Just… just put your trust in him, okay?” 
“I’m sorry, [Name], but I’ve got to go,” he tells you, “You stay here, and call for help or something. I’m sorry, but I’ve just really got to do it!” 
He hugs you, quickly, deftly. And then he crosses the gate, leaving you all alone like Megumi did. You wish he’d hug you longer, that you could take care of him for a little longer— it was your last way to be useful now. 
Still, there’s someone you could call, now that you remember him.
The emergency contact. 
You snatch your phone out, resolute. 
“Hello! Gojo Satoru speaking,” the voice on the other line says. 
You’ve heard it plenty before by accident. 
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When Gojo and Megumi are back, Yuuji’s in the form of a figure slung over Gojo’s shoulders like he’s been reply entrenched into slumber, his body seemingly limp and his torso completely bare. There’s barely an ounce of movement in him, except for slow exhales and inhales you can see on his chest. Sasaki and Iguchi are both nearly the same, the former covered in bruises and in a deep, panicked haze, and the latter as asleep as Yuuji seemed to be while harbouring injuries he may never recover from. 
The only non-roughed up one here is Gojo, it seems; Megumi has a stream of blood running from the top of his head in rivulets, staining his sweaty, scraped forehead. 
“Wh— you two, what happened? Why are they all asleep? What happened to Yuuji? Are they okay? What—” 
“Calm down, kid,” Gojo says, “They’ll be fine. I mean, there’s a 100% chance that your friend can be executed, but…” 
“Executed?” you almost scream, “What the hell happened? You said things would be okay!” 
“Uh-uh, again, calm down. I mean, we don’t even know when they’re gonna make him kick the bucket! He ate Sukuna’s finger, by the way.” He holds his arms up in faux surrender. 
“Gojo you ignorant slut! Don’t you fucking dare tell me to ‘calm down!’ He ate Sukuna’s finger? Why weren’t you able to stop anything? What’s going to happen to him now? You know what— give him to me!” 
“You know, it’s not like I’m scared of being hunted down by your father if you use your cursed technique— I mean, I’m leagues stronger than him— but the stuff was too strong. It’s not like you’ll be able to get rid of the finger in your little boyfriend.” 
“He’s not her boyfriend!” Megumi interjects.
“Thank you, Megumi!” Your face is going hot like a campfire fanned by the wind. 
“Oh?” Gojo adds, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Anyway, we’re going to get him to a place where we can cover everything with talismans to surround him.” 
They’re going to execute him at Jujutsu High after.  
“I’m coming with you.” 
“You sure?” Gojo asks, “Your father isn’t going to like you travelling so far away without telling him.” 
Megumi shifts, a little sombre. “[Name], you don’t have to.” 
“...I’m doing this for Yuuji, not for you.” 
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“You okay?” Gojo asks while the three of you are back in the hospital. (You hate this building so much.) Iguchi’s been transferred to a ward, Sasaki having woken up and insisting on staying with him. “I’ve got kikufuku if you want some. You must be really tired since it’s so late, huh?” 
The whole situation is so incredulous you’re unsure of whether you want to burst out laughing or dismember someone. 
“...nothing. Wait, let me see Yuuji again.” 
Everyone is asleep, it seems— all except for you and Gojo. Yuuji’s been knocked out, and Megumi’s stuck in the world of his dreams. 
You can’t sleep. There’s just nothing to put your mind at rest. 
At least if there’s one thing you can do it’s this. 
Gojo picks him up by the sides of his torso (now temporarily clothed with a spare white shirt) like a child with a heavy book. “Woah— he’s pretty heavy for a fifteen year old kid.” 
You lay Yuuji face-up on the line of hospital chairs. There are thin scarlet marks right under his eyes— Sukuna’s eyelids, you’ve been told. 
You should’ve done more to protect him. 
Slowly, reticently, you kneel by the side of the chairs. You press your fingertips onto that pair of thin tiny lines. 
Nothing happens. You can’t picture his cells being able to grow back. It’s as if there’s been a slit on his face and its outline has been replaced with brand-new skin. His cells don’t budge. 
“Why don’t you help Megumi? I bet he’s got plenty of healable injuries.” 
“…I don’t think I’ll be able to help much. I could faint if I try helping him now. It’s better to leave it to Dr Ieiri or something.” 
“Pft,” he scoffs, “Shoko? She’s definitely not going to heal all of him. It’ll just be a waste of her time. You can just help him with the tiny scrapes and bruises first. And I’ll even tell her that you did it. She’s really fond of you, you know.” 
You give him a shy, modest smile. “Thanks, then.”
It’s time to get to work. 
Megumi’s skin is smooth like a baby’s just like the last time you felt it, though the frown on his face, ever-present, is bound to cause wrinkles there in less than a few decades’ time. You place your hands on him, bruised and bloody, watching in your mind and directing his cells as they work. 
Once the smaller injuries have been dealt with, you stop. “I can’t really work on the one on his head, since then you’d get another fainted person to carry around, but he should be fine with some bandages and patching-up there, because I’ve already kind of catalysed the start of that area’s healing process a little. Other than that, he should be completely fine. I’ll give it, say… two weeks or so for it to get better completely.” 
“Good work!” he smiles, the outline of his cheeks visible on his blindfold. 
“By the way, Mr Gojo…” 
“You know, I appreciate the respect you’re giving me now, but just Gojo is fine.” 
“Okay, Gojo. Do you think Yuuji will be okay?” 
“I mean, I’m pretty sure. And I’m going to ask them to suspend his sentence. I’ll just see whether he wants that or not once he wakes up.” 
“That’s the thing. I’m not sure if he even will.” 
Gojo laughs. “Don’t worry. He was really strong, and able to switch between being possessed by Sukuna and being himself at will. We haven't seen that kind of talent in a millennia! I’m sure they’ll listen to me, anyway.” 
“Thank you,” you sigh. Thank goodness. “If you need any type of payment, um… teleport to my house whenever you get inconvenient little cuts like bruises and stuff. I can help.” 
“Nah, reverse cursed technique’s got me covered.” 
“Oh, wait— I forgot about that— um… I can…”
“Just leave it to me! No payment required,” he exclaims, holding both thumbs up. “And for the record, the one who wanted to save Yuuji was actually Megumi.” 
You wouldn’t have imagined that would happen. Megumi— pragmatic, serious, unkind when he needs to be (no matter how kind of a person he actually is— no, was— at heart), different from Tsumiki in so many ways. There was no way he would have been the one vouching for Yuuji, someone he’d only just met, to be spared. 
“Really?” you ask, “I… wouldn’t have thought he was the one who would do it. I thought, maybe, you were just… really kind tonight or something…”
“Well, maybe it was because he saw how much you cared about Itadori and did it for you, or maybe he had met Itadori, liked him, and just wanted to save a good person,” Gojo suspects, “But if there’s one thing for sure it’s that your old friend saved your new one.” 
“...oh.” 
You’ll have to bring it up with him next time— maybe, if he’s still there tomorrow…
“I know you’re mad at him, but a lot has happened,” Gojo states, voice lower, softer like a schoolteacher’s, “Still, I won’t tell you that you have to give him a chance or any of that. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to thank him or anything. I’m sure he did it out of his own volition without expecting anything from you. He knew he probably didn’t deserve to if it were you.” 
You pause. “No, it’s just… I’ll talk to him again the next time I see him. Alone, most likely. And I can figure something out. I think that would be the best way to go around things. Thank you, Gojo.” 
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18-6-2018 
The aftershocks are still there, although you’ve come out unscathed. 
Last night was a mingled mess, a blur. You’d tried your best to help Iguchi by the time Yuuji was placed in the room of talismans and you could come back to the hospital and visit, but in the end he still needed better help than that. His injuries were too large of scale for how you were at that moment, already tired after healing some of the numbers done on Megumi. 
(You were useless. You couldn’t help anyone. You couldn’t prevent Yuuji from being hit with such soul-striking guilt., couldn’t help Sasaki from being traumatised, couldn’t help Iguchi enough for him to be back at school soon—) 
Sasaki’s injuries were limited to bruises and scrapes, but though you could help her physically, there was nothing you could do to assist her emotionally. 
You stayed with them for a few hours in the ICU and then one of the hospital wards (a floor under your mother’s), your father calling you once the sun had risen. 
“Gojo Satoru told me about everything that happened.” 
“Yeah. I know you’ll scold me, but… not now. I’m sorry, I’m just really tired.” You hang up. 
For all you spoke of wanting to be useful, the night when your powers were needed the most was when you were at your most useless— you couldn’t help them, you couldn’t help attack the cursed spirits, and the only thing you could do was call for an adult’s help like a little, scared and helpless girl. 
You needed to train, and train harder than you had been doing for the past few years. 
There’s a knock on the door, a dot-dot-dot-dot-dot. dot dot. It’s Yuuji, you know it is. How ever could you not? 
Timidly, movements quiet like the room itself, you pull the door knob, seeing him there, relatively unscathed. You sigh in relief, a moment’s respite before you return to the panic you had been living in before since you deserve the respite less than other people do— no, you don’t deserve such a break at all, you’re absolutely sure of that, not after what you pulled, how horribly and utterly useless you were, you’ll remind yourself of that again and again and again— the heart-piercing guilt and the worry and the constant need to care for the people around you, almost like a mother, maybe, but you don’t like that thought as much as you think you should. Maybe if your own mother knew, she’d disagree— maybe she’d tell you that you should be a mother, maybe she’d ignore that you were also a child at certain times— the most convenient ones, probably. When she thinks it good that you, a child, were someone’s caretaker because women should take pride in and appreciate that, she would encourage you to be one; when she thinks it bad that as a caretaker and a so-called ‘adult’ you can have your own autonomy, agency and opinions, then maybe she’d remind you that in her eyes you knew nothing of the world. But maybe, just maybe, there was also a chance that she wouldn’t be like that in any way. 
But you wouldn’t put it past her. 
“Yuuji, are you okay?” There are questions about to spill out of you, tears about to fall like gushing rivers, but you’re just happy he’s alive at this point. 
“Yeah.” His voice is soft. Your chest twinges; it hurts like an awful, intransigent little bruise. “Hi, [Name].” It feels so unignorable, the way it’s filled with such sorrow and worry that it weighs his usually loud and boisterous voice down. 
“I thought that—” you start, lips trembling, “I thought there was a chance I couldn’t lose you. The only thing I could do was—” you sniffle, “Hope that they could delay it or something.” 
“Yeah. I’ll explain it later,” he says, his voice sincere. 
You squeeze the wrist of his sleeve. “Don’t do things like that ever again,” you plead, “Promise me that at least.” 
“I promise.” 
“And keep your promises.”
“I will.” 
“...want to come inside?” 
He walks inside, and you step back to make way for him. 
“Sorry I came so late,” he says to you and Sasaki, who shakes her head in reassurance. “Hello, Sasaki,” he greets, “Is Iguchi okay?” 
They speak for a while— you don’t feel like it’s much of your right to join their conversation, since you did nearly nothing at all when they were most in danger, so you leave them be for a while. It would be better not to bother them right now, anyway. They’ve both been traumatised until it reached beneath their bones within the past twenty-four hours. 
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When you leave the hospital, Sasaki tells you that she’s going to stay. You tell her to take care, squeezing her hand one final time. 
You let her, patting her on the back. You’ll call them later— she’d given you her contact— just to check on the two of them. 
“Where’s Megumi?” you ask Yuuji. 
“Oh, Fushiguro? I’m not too sure, but that Gojo guy said he’ll be there soon.” 
“Where, though?”
Sheepishly, in peak Yuuji fashion, he scratches the back of his neck. “Actually, another reason why I came here was also because… I mean, I know you and him weren’t close, but I’m going to the place where they’ll keep Grandpa’s ashes, and I think… you know, you could come with me. I… I don’t think I’d be able to do it really well alone, even though he had definitely made it clear he seriously didn’t want me moping around after his death and all. Gojo and Megumi will probably be there, but I thought it would be better if you were there because I know you better than those two, and you’re my friend. So… could you come with me? I know that he never really showed it, but I think he had always liked you a lot. Like, he was happy we were friends and stuff.” 
“...mhm. I’ll always be happy about that,” you tell him, before pulling him into a hug. The guy must need one right now. You’ve never hugged him before. Your heart hurts. 
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The air is hot and humid with the breath of summer, bundles of mosquitoes bound to be breeding new ones these next few weeks. Up in the sky is the sun, bold and bright, glaring down harshly at the two of you. 
“Before he passed away, Grandpa actually said something. He… kind of cursed me, if I’m being honest,” Yuuji starts. “He said I was a strong kid, so I should help people. And I’m going to do that. So that was why when Gojo asked if I wanted to be executed immediately or just eat all the fingers before dying, I chose the second option. I… I think I want to help people that way.” 
‘You’ve already helped people enough. You helped me,’ you almost tell him. 
You frown, because that’s the only thing you can do right now. You search for words to say the same way you do looking for dog books in libraries chock-full with those of other genres. “I’m… disappointed, I— I know I should be grateful, grateful that you’re still going to be alive and all, but… you’re still going to be in danger, and you’re still going to be executed one day. I mean, again, I know I should be happy you’re going to have more time alive and that I can still see you, but what if things don’t go as planned? What if you lose control of yourself once you reach, like, the fifth finger or something?” 
You’re selfish like that. In a way, you’re just the way your mother is. You should’ve always known— you were her beloved daughter after all, and the people you know would be loved the same way she did you since the day she knew of your existence, and maybe even before that. 
“Don’t worry,” he grins, wide as always. Even in an over-enveloping darkness he still manages to be the light. “I’ll be just fine. I’m a strong kid, after all. And we’ll always be friends!” 
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Gojo asks if he and Yuuji can talk in private for a while. You wonder if this was how your mother felt as she had to give the person she loved most away (but you will have to go away, one day), because you can briefly tell what Gojo is going to ask. You wonder if she felt this twice. 
Yuuji can’t stay with you forever. In the same way you can’t remain by your mother and father’s sides for all eternity. 
This won’t be the last time you’re here, you think. For a place of death, it’s quite a bit beautiful how there’s such large masses of grass and plants surrounding it. 
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Megumi nearly walks past you, his eyes on the old photographs of the deceased all around him. 
“Megumi.” 
He turns around. 
“I just wanted to thank you for wanting to save my friend, even if you may not have wanted to do it for me, specifically… um… I didn’t expect that you’d still be here. Are your injuries okay?” 
“I’m okay,” he answers you. “And also, I…” he hesitates, the first time he’s talked to you for something actually related to the two of you in a long time— nearly two years if you’re counting correctly, but the thoughts in your head are a bit too jumbled to count at the moment. “I didn’t really do it for you, though. It… it was for Tsumiki.” 
“Oh.”
“Wait! I’m sorry, that didn’t… come out right. But I should also apologise for something else. You wouldn’t have been thrown into this world anyway if not for my own demon dogs years ago.” 
“No, no, it wasn’t your fault. And I would have wanted to be in it anyway. There’s not many who can heal other people and all, so I just thought… even if I can’t do as much yet, since I don’t have reversed cursed technique and the drawbacks that come from mine are really bad, I can still help people sometimes if they’re dealing with relatively minor injuries. I can, um… make things easier for people. I can be useful like that. I’d keep to it anyway, because I’m stubborn, but… yeah. It wasn’t your fault, really.” 
“Okay. That’s good to hear.” 
“Yeah. Anyway, I’m happy to know that Tsumiki is okay.” 
Silence again for a while. The air turns a little more sombre, and a lot more awkward. 
“She is. And Itadori seems… like a good person. I think it’s good, that… you were able to find a friend like that.” 
“It was. He’s a really, really good guy.” 
“You love him a lot,” Megumi says. 
“I do. He’s a really good friend. If there’s something I’ll always know I know that, at least.” 
“I can see that. It doesn’t seem like he loves you back in the same way, though.” 
“...wow. Way to be blunt, Megumi. And yes, I do know that, too.” 
“Let’s just… change the subject.” 
“You’re the one who introduced it in the first place.” 
“Okay. How… how are you?” 
“I’m good. Wait, I think you should… go back to them. Maybe they’ll need you there right about now. He’s probably going to have to go to Jujutsu High, right?” 
He pauses. “Yeah. I’m sorry, [Name].” 
“No, no. That’s okay. I expected it. It’s just that I’ll miss him a lot,” you tell him, “He took care of me, kind of. You know I’ve always been a bit of an awkward or shy person, but he still approached me since I was new and we ended up hitting off as friends, kind of. We did a lot of stuff together.” 
Sounds pretty familiar, huh. 
“If you want I can make sure he’s safe for you.” 
“...you should be able to do that regardless of whether it’s my wish for you to do so or not…” you state, “But that would help, I guess. And I’m sorry for my attitude towards you for the past few hours or so. Thank you again.” 
“...I’m sorry I never spoke to you for so long, by the way,” he says abruptly. ‘By the way’? Classic Megumi… 
“I could tell you were. It’s… it’s okay. The two of you kind of have a habit of doing that.” 
All your rage, your loneliness, your feelings of abandonment— and this is all you can do. This is all you can say. You can only just let it go, in the end. 
“I’ll explain it all one day.” 
“You don’t have to if it’s hard.” 
He stays. “No, I will. I promise. And I promise I’ll start to talk to you again, as well. I was just… scared of a few things, maybe.” 
“That’s okay.” 
The two of you aren’t quite friends again yet, but it’ll happen soon. Maybe. And even if it doesn’t, you’re finally able to say, with an open, honest heart, that that doesn’t matter as much anymore. 
“I guess this is goodbye again, then.” 
“Not really.” 
“Oh, right— promise to keep in touch, okay? My patience is running thin with you,” you chuckle at that last part, attempting to joke and make things lighter again. 
“Promise.” 
“I’m going to go home now, by the way. Please tell Yuuji that I wish him the best and I’ll visit when I have my own money to visit Tokyo and all.” 
“I will.” 
“And help me say goodbye to him for me,” you add, “Hope that’s not too much for you to do. Sorry for the trouble. It’s just that I’d actually just about cry if I had to do it in real time right in front of him. Be good to him and be good friends, okay? Keep that promise, at the very least. That’s the one thing that I wish for the most.” 
“Bye, Megumi.” You turn back in the direction opposite of his. 
“Wait—!” 
His hand is on your wrist. Now you’re in front of him, like yesterday, and he’s holding your wrist, albeit a bit gentler than the way he used to pull it a whole eight years ago. 
His eyes are cast away from you, slightly avoidantly and in a way that’s a bit abashed. “I’ll miss you, [Name].” 
“It won’t even feel like I’m not there,” you say. Though his grip is slightly tight, he loosens it as soon as you try to slide it up, as if he’d let you be free of it if you want him to. 
You squeeze his hand instead, turning to face him. It feels warm. It feels like there’s blood coursing through you, the sensation more tender and tangible than it’s ever been. 
“Goodbye.” 
“Goodbye, [Name]. I’ll… I’ll call.” 
“Thank you.” 
Now you’re the one slipping away from his grasp. You move your hand away and walk back. The door slides open. 
2010. Springs, summers, autumns, winters. Hands on wrists, a back faced to your eyes, wide with innocence. Warmth and laughter and happiness and love. Days coloured with vibrant hues and time spent with dog books and in libraries. Frowns were greeted with smiles. Hesitance was non-existent. You didn’t feel a need to compensate for your uselessness. You were a child. You didn’t feel useless at all. You just felt this: a constant leaping in your heart, the corners of your mouth twisting up into a juvenile grin, braiding someone’s beautiful brown hair and tying it with a pretty cherry hair tie. 
You want to cry as you walk back home. 
You’re pretty sure you do. 
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@bakananya, @sindulgent666, @shartnart1, @lolmais, @mechalily, @pweewee, @notsaelty, @nattisbored
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redtsundere-writes · 2 days
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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen
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mmafigther!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader
Part 12. Between Us
Beginning. ← Previous |
Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Warnings: Cursed words, I only read it once. Word Count: 2879 words. Author's Note: 2 parts away to the end! I'm super excited for what is to come.
Btw I made a PLAYLIST
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Dinner continued as night fell over the elegant panorama. Musicians continued to play all night long, waiters walked around the tables with trays laden with appetizers and people chatted pleasantly surrounded us. I was eating delicious food, drinking expensive champagne, and I was sitting between two super attractive men, what more could I ask for? Definitely a good night. His mother would sometimes give me uncomfortable looks, but Sukuna would scold her every time he caught her doing it. Choso would get me to talk about my plans once I stopped working for her brother. And Yuuji… I didn't want to talk to him after exposing myself like that in front of his family. I knew he was a big gossip, but I never thought he would reveal something like that to his parents. 
When dinner was over, his parents said goodbye to everyone and went back to their house. Or I rather say, mansion. I had discovered that the Itadori's owned a large coffee company that was distributed internationally. Now I understood why Sukuna was so spoiled, he has always had everything he wants from the cradle. Good thing Choso and Yuuji didn't turn out like him. 
“I think we are ready to leave, right, Choso?” Yuuji asked the middle brother before pulling him by the arm to the car. 
“Not so fast,” Sukuna said before pulling him towards him by the hoodie's cap. Yuuji replied to the sudden movement. “We already knew you were a shitty gossip, but today you went too far,” I scolded him while forcing him to stand in front of me. 
“Stop it, Sukuna!” Choso exclaimed to make me let go of his little brother. 
“Shut up! You know perfectly well that what he did is not right,” Sukuna barked. “Apologize to Y/n for what you said.” 
That action coming from Sukuna healed wounds in me that I didn't know were still there. I think it was the first time someone defended me like that. I was so used to always fighting for myself that I had forgotten how it felt to have someone come to my defense.  I don't know if he was doing it out of wanting to discipline his younger brother or to protect me, it was still comforting to see him act so concerned about the situation. I felt safe next to him even though he could act like a monster at times.
“I'm sorry for saying what Naoya did to you in front of everyone. It won't happen again,” Yuuji apologized, avoiding my gaze, ashamed of his actions. 
“You better keep your word,” I told him so. Sukuna would let him go. 
After a quiet ride home, Sukuna wished me goodnight and we both headed to our respective rooms. I took off the cute little girl costume I had put on as I recalled the intimate moment I had shared with Choso and how Sukuna kept nagging his family so he could have a quiet dinner. I sighed tiredly before lying face down on the big white bed. I shoved my face between the goose down pillows as I realized I had spent the whole night fantasizing about two different men. 
“What the fuck am I doing?” I scolded myself. 
Tonight I confirmed that my feelings for Choso were still there, but now they coexisted with the feelings I had for Sukuna, his own brother. What I was feeling was not right, but what could I do about it? I couldn't date both of them to find out whom I liked more. I couldn't play with them like they were plastic dolls. I also didn't want to make a pros and cons list, that seems tacky to me. I looked at the clock, it was 11 o'clock at night. I was sure Nobara was still awake. 
“Well, well… Finally, someone deigns to call me,” Nobara answered the video call. She had her hair up, a mask on her face and a loose-fitting sleep shirt. She was getting ready to go to sleep, he had caught her at a good time.
“I know, I've been busy,” I replied embarrassed. “But now I'm in the middle of a dilemma.” 
“Oh, finally, some tea!” Nobara replied. 
I told him everything that my heart wanted to let out for months. How tender, mysterious and attractive Choso was and how handsome, strong and disciplined Sukuna is. About how much I wanted to go out with Choso to coffee shops and art museums. About how much I wanted Sukuna to give me a clear sign that he liked me as a girlfriend and not as a hamster he had to protect from hawks. The mixture of love and confusion surprised Nobara with every sentence he blurted out. 
“I like them both, and I have no idea what to do,” I finished my confession. 
“Taylor Swift could write a song about it,” Nobara joked before pulling a cheeto out of the blue bag and eating it. “I don't understand why you're racking your brains when the answer is so obvious.” 
“Is it?” I asked confused. 
“Duh. I'm team Choso to death,” I answered. 
“Why?” 
“Do I really have to say it?” Nobara looked at me as if I was stupid. I just kept quiet. She sighed in exasperation and sat up straight to speak seriously. “Choso is the only one who likes you back, and you really like him too. Sukuna only likes you because you respect him a lot and not because you really want to go out with him,” she replied wisely. 
“I see…” I whispered as I realized it was true. 
When I think of Sukuna, I think of his sportswear, how great he looks boxing and how strong he looks against his opponents, but I also think of the thousands of flaws he has. He is an angry, spoiled and rude man. I could have disciplined Yuuji tonight, but he could become a thousand times worse if he set his mind to it. Even though I felt safe with him, I don't know him like I'd like to.  
“Besides, Sukuna may not be like Naoya, but it sounds like he's similar,” Nobara added. 
“You're right,” I sighed before closing my eyes. 
Since that night, I decided to stay sentimentally away from Sukuna. Every time I saw him, I thought about him with a cold head. I saw beyond my rose-colored glasses that made me drool for him. We still trained, ate and spent time together, but I avoided him at times when we could be completely alone. As the days went by I saw him less as a perfect man and more as a cranky friend. 
A month had passed since then and the big fight against Aoi Todo was just around the corner. The entire team had traveled all the way to Rio de Janeiro for the big night that awaited us. Brazil gave us a warm welcome from the moment we arrived. Paparazzi, fans, and sponsors had been bombarding us with flashing lights and posters to autograph since we arrived at the airport. Team Black had finally arrived to rule the place.
Sukuna tried to go for my face as he did every training session. I evaded him with no trouble to land a hook to the liver that knocked him back a couple of steps. After months of exhaustive training, I had already learned Sukuna's pattern of moves. He always goes for the killing blow first, then low attacks and again, tries to knock me out. It's a pattern that repeats over and over again with a variation that occasionally catches me off guard. 
“Keep your guard up!” Gojo shouted at me from the side of the ring. 
I put my arms up to cover my face better. Yuuji and Nanami were watching us fight with Gojo. We were waiting patiently at the UFC offices to be called for the official weigh-in. We knew perfectly well that Sukuna was at his ideal weight, but we had to find out if Aoi Todo was. Being the heavyweight champion wanting to compete for the light heavyweight title, it meant he had to lose at least 22 pounds for the fight to be held fairly. 
Sukuna sent me to the corner with a single jab. I tried to recover, but he was already on top of me, busting me with punches until I reached my limit. I could only keep my guard up until he got tired and opened a door of opportunity. What I didn't count on was that I got a hook to the tit. 
“Oh, son of a bitch! I screamed in pain while I pushed him to let myself rest for a second. 
“I wanted to hit you in the stomach, but since you are smaller, I didn't hit you where I wanted to,” he explained with an evil smile. “That’s some bullshit,” I thought.  
“Sukuna Ryomen, you can go to the office,” a UFC assistant announced. 
“Saved by the bell,” Sukuna said before taking off his gloves. I flipped him off as I took off one of mine. 
The entire team made their way to the office where the official judges and the referee who would be in charge of the fight were waiting for us. The process was simple. They would just weigh the fighters, recite the official rules to both of them, and we could go back to the hotel to prepare for the weigh-in. We had done this several times before, there was nothing to be surprised about. 
“Hello, Sukuna,” Yuki Tsukumo greeted us with a big smile as soon as we entered the office. 
Sukuna, Yuuji and I froze when we saw her next to Aoi Todo. This had to be a fucking sick joke. She was the coach of our new opponent? This only meant bad news. Sukuna completely ignored her to greet the judges, referee and Todo. 
“Good to see you again, Snake,” Yuki greeted me directly while Aoi was weighed on a professional scale. 
“Why didn't you tell me you were Aoi's coach?” I asked her while the judges were taking the necessary measurements for the data sample. 
“Was I supposed to?” She asked pretending to be confused. 
It was Sukuna's turn. He took off his shirt and shoes to weigh himself. I hated to admit it, but it was an amazing sight. Even though I had seen it several times before, I couldn't get used to it. I tried to look away so that my cupid thoughts wouldn’t take possession of my body. 
“How is your brother?” Yuki asked him to obviously annoy him. Sukuna gave him a whiplash with his gaze for even having the nerve to mention his little brother. 
“He's fine,” I answered for him so he wouldn't get in trouble in front of the judges. “Great, I'd say,” I said with a mischievous smile. 
After the judges recited the rules and both fighters agreed, both teams left the office with a tense air following us closely. Team Black began to leave the scene to return to the hotel after an exhaustive morning training and Todo’s gym went to the gym.  
“I hope we have a good fight!” Todo said to Sukuna while shaking his hand. 
Todo was friendlier than I imagined. He had a nice smile all the time, was kind to everyone and had an overall good vibe, unlike his coach. Now I understood why Toji Fushiguro wanted to leave the stage, so fighters like Sukuna or Todo could shine. Todo's team continued on their way to the gym, but Yuki stayed behind. 
“It's good to see you again, how long has it been since we've seen each other? 2 years?” Yuki asked him, ignoring the rest of her team to focus on Sukuna. She wanted to provoke him, I was sure of that. 
“Why don't you go ahead? I have to talk to her,” I said to Sukuna as I stepped between them to distance them. 
“Don't do anything stupid,” Sukuna whispered to me before walking away from us. 
“I would really appreciate it if you would leave my athlete alone,” I said to Yuki once my team had left the hallway. 
“I don't think it's a sin to want to say hello to him,” she said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. 
“You know perfectly well that he doesn't want to greet you after what you did,” I said. 
“So he told you. Did you really believe him?” Yuki asked me in disbelief. 
“Well, Sukuna's version makes you look like a gold digger and Choso's version makes you look like a whore, which one do you prefer?” I asked defensively. 
“I thought you would understand me. You know how hard it is to enter this world as a woman. I needed that job,” Yuki explained, making it clear that Sukuna's version of the story was the truth.
I knew better than anyone that the world of mixed martial arts was complicated for a woman to navigate in. There are perverts everywhere, the other fighters don't take you seriously and the coaches are harder on you. It's a world plagued by men who only see you as a small insignificant being, just because you can't compete directly against them. Women fighters have to work twice as hard as men to secure a place in the industry. 
“It's difficult but not impossible. Did you really have to pick on his brother to prove your worth? You only made yourself worse,” I asked, annoyed. 
“How sad to see you've changed, Snake,” Yuki sighed. “Who knew? One day you're on top and the next you're working for an idiot like Sukuna Ryomen. Weren't you supposed to hate fighters like him?” she said before wanting to withdraw from the conversation, but she was very wrong if she thought I would let her have the last word. 
“It's true that I hate fighters with massive egos like him, but I hate people like you even more,” I told him before following the path where my team had gone. 
“People like me?” Yuki wondered. 
“Bad and stupid,” I said without looking back. I hoped my point was clear.
I continued my way until I reached the reception. Sukuna was waiting for me in an armchair with his arms crossed while watching a TV in front of him, while the rest of the team was awaiting us at the van. “I thought he would go with the others.” 
“You didn't need to do that,” he told me once I got close to him. 
“It is, I can't let a piranha get in my pond,” I answered wisely. 
“Did you put her on her place?” Sukuna asked me. 
 “I insulted her in 4 different ways, what do you think?” I joked. 
“Good,” he said before getting up from the sofa. “I need a favor.”
Oh no, not again. It was the day before the fight, so I already knew what he was going to ask me. I wouldn't do it, not even if he threw me all his money. I was finally over him, I couldn't fall back into the void I worked so hard to escape from.
“I'm not going to fuck with you,” I told him directly. 
“I already knew that,” he replied. My eyebrow raised at that answer. 
“Yeah?”
“It's super obvious that you like Choso, and he likes you too,” he answered. I couldn't help but blush knowing that I was acting so obvious around him. “I need you to do me a favor with Yuuji.” 
I hadn't packed any cute outfit for the nightlife in Brazil, so I decided to wear jeans with a black fitted t-shirt, what I was supposed to wear for when we got back home. Sukuna told me that Yuuji loves to travel to Brazil for the food. So he asked me to join him for dinner while he does his good luck ritual with a prostitute Gojo got for him. 
“Are you ready to eat some good cuts of meat? I asked Yuuji coming out of the bathroom we shared. 
“Of course! I hope you have prepared your stomach because we are going to gain 5 pounds after this,” He said excitedly. 
We left the room to head towards the reception. While I was getting ready, he had made a list of all the restaurants he wanted to visit during the afternoon. We would start at a restaurant to eat picanha, then to an eatery to try feijoada, and finally we would look for some place that sold quindim or brigaidero. 
I listened to Yuuji talk about how delicious Brazilian food is as we rode down the elevator. When the doors opened, we were both shocked to see what was on the other side. There was a girl who looked very much like me in a little red fitted dress that left almost nothing to the imagination. She was not my clone exactly, but her hair, skin tone, face shape and body type were similar. We got out of the elevator and she walked in, greeting us in Portuguese.
“She looked just like you,” Yuuji said to me, still in shock. 
“Yeah…” I whispered impressed.
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Masterlist.
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Tag list: @maskedpacific @thepurpleempath @mazzd4 @charlie-xo @s0uldarling @sunako-0120 @berranurates @00frenchfries00 @crowned-gemini @alialucille @azuremyst99 @dorck26 @esposadomd
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dandelions-143 · 2 days
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Who’s Gonna Hold You like me? Nofuckinbody
Part 1
This one’s kind of sad/dramatic but there will be more parts to it.
Pairing: Idol Changbin x f!reader
Genre: Friends to Friends with benefits to nothing
Warnings: not much, cussing, a little drinking, it just ends sad… for now
Summary: You’re friends with Idol Changbin. You spend as much time together as possible. It’s always a fun time with him. Late nights sneaking out doing things you know would get you both in trouble but, it also feels like Changbin is stringing you along in some ways and it gets to you… coming to a bow up after so long of holding it in.
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(Did not proofread… sorry!! Also likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!!)
He had all the car windows down. The wind combing through your hair. The music was up loud and he was speeding down the coast towards the beach. You looked over and a ghost of a smile played upon his lips. He was beautiful, sweet, gentle, and a little wild. Changbin was not suppose to be out right now, he had a busy schedule as an idol. A strict schedule nearly daily and he always stuck to that except late at night.
He would come and pick you up in his new car he recently bought. You would run out of your front door adrenaline pumping through your veins at the sight of him and the fact that if he got caught sneaking out of his dorm or if he got caught with you it could possibly mean real trouble for him. Changbin didn’t care, he wanted to spend every night he could with you and his friends.
Changbin was a bit of a bad boy, taking you to abandon places that had no trespassing signs just so you two could stay out all night drinking, dancing crazy to the muffled playlist coming from your phone, sharing heated kisses, and needy touches. Or he would hop a fence and sneak you into a hotel swimming pool to go skinny dipping after pool hours. And then sometimes he would just take you to a party with his friends from his past.
Like tonight he was taking you to the beach which was closed after sundown but there was a bonfire happening and he had pretty much begged you to go with him. Now, even though you two spent most nights together he had only ever kissed you, he never tried to do more than that even though you wished he would cross that line.. you would beg for it if it wouldn’t be humiliating. So you two stayed friends that would sometimes make out.
You craved his attention. You loved the way he would look at you sometimes as if he knew a secret that you didn’t. That little cocky smirk he got when you would tell him a dirty joke you heard, like you could see the smutty thoughts flowing through his mind. You touched yourself to the thought of him. You just wanted him always and tonight was going to be the night you told him exactly how you felt and what you wanted.
—————————————————————————————————————————
Changbin walked a little ahead of you as you both walked from the parking lot onto the still warm sand. He grabbed your wrist lightly pulling you along, “Hurry, so we can get a good cold drink.” You only smiled and picked up the pace. “Patience Changbin, the party wont leave. It’s still going to be there, also I’m a bit nervous. These people are all your friends I wont know anyone there.” You said as you walked up beside him and Changbin dropped your wrist, which you instantly missed the warmth of his large hand on your skin.
“No, no, don’t get insecure now. You’re the funnest person I know and the prettiest.” He put his hands on your shoulders to make you look at him. “Just be yourself and people will love you, just as I do.” You know he didn’t mean it the way you wanted him to mean it but a small bloom of hope began in the pit of your stomach. Maybe he will reciprocate my feelings… you thought to yourself as his warm brown eyes searched yours.
You opened your mouth to begin to convey that you really wanted to tell him something important but of course a couple of his friends spotted you both and began to yell for you two to come over.
The closer you got to the party the louder the chatter and music became. The fire was huge and blazing in the middle of this dug out pit causing the warm summer night to feel even more warm. You followed Changbin as he greeted a bunch of people. And you didn’t expect Changbin to introduce you exactly but, you felt a little awkward when he began conversations and didn’t even acknowledge you were standing right beside him. What’s up with him, he never treats you like this. You question in your head but chose to just go with it. You didn’t mind being a wallflower as long as you were with him.
Eventually you two made your way to where the drinks were and he did grab two drinks, one for you and one for himself. Changbin turned to you as he sipped on his beer, “Are you okay?” You nodded and drank some of your beer. You winced at the bitter taste as it slid down your throat. You thought that if you just had a little liquid courage maybe you would loosen up and not be so uptight.
You watched as Changbin flitted around like a social butterfly. He was in his element, talking to everyone he knew and even people he didn’t know. The more awkward you felt the more you drank and only two hours in you had drank two beers and you were on your third. You weren’t sure where Changbin had run off to but it was pissing you off at this point.
He had never treated you like this, he had never left you to just fend for yourself with people you didn’t know. He was always there, a comfort for you. And yes, maybe you should be more independent but you came out to be with him not strangers.
Fuck it.. I’m going to dance. I can’t just stand here alone anymore. The thought crossed your mind as you finished that third beer and you just chucked the empty bottle in the sand before walking over to a spot near the fire where the music was blasting the loudest. You were not the most coordinated but you were buzzed enough to not care anymore.
You let the music just move you, not caring what you looked like to the other party goers around. Then suddenly a pair of hands engulfed your hips and you smirked thinking maybe Changbin had seen you and decided to join you but, when you turned around it was not him. The guy that was dancing with you was a tall, slim man that had dyed dark blue curly hair. He was cute but, not the one you wanted to be dancing with.
“No thanks” you said to the guy, your words slurring ever so slightly. “I want to be dancing with Changbin.” You said out loud, your inner thoughts slipping free of your usually guarded mouth. The man didn’t seem offended he nodded and pointed in the direction of the water where it was darker and more quiet. “I saw him head out there with a friend, I think.”
So you began to walk in that direction, all the while muttering to yourself how you were just going to tell him. Tell him everything. As you walked you could see a figure sitting down in the sand by the water. The waves crashing on the shore but not quite reaching him. You couldn’t help but smile as his figure grew larger and you could see that little smirk you loved on his lips.
“Hey, I -“ you began as you plopped down beside him on the sand. Changbin looked startled. His eyes growing a bit wide and he kept glancing out at the ocean. You were too tipsy to really notice what or who he was looking at until you heard a girls voice calling to him. “Binnie! It’s so cold!” The girl yelled as she came running up to him, soaking wet and only in her bra and panties.
You froze, your eyes looking at the girl who was now wrapping herself up in his jacket. You then looked over at Changbin and he couldn’t look you in the face. “Binnie, who’s this?” She innocently asked. Before Binnie could utter a word you shoved him and you shoved him hard. His muscly body was not easy to move but you were pissed, more so than you had ever been in your entire life.
“What the fuck, Changbin! You ditched me to come out here with her! And who the fuck calls you Binnie. No one calls you that!” You were yelling now and it took a second try but you stumbled to your feet. “I can’t fucking believe you!” You began to storm off in the opposite direction of the bonfire but Changbin followed you. You could hear his foot steps in the sand behind you.
“Come on, don’t be mad. I expected you to do the same. This is a party after all. It’s what people do. They hook up!” Changbin grabbed your arm gently, making you stop. You couldn’t take it anymore, the tears were rushing down your cheeks now, hot against the salty breeze coming off of the ocean. As you whirled around. You forcefully shook his hand off of you, “But I came here with you! I don’t want anyone else…”
Your voice was shaky and not as loud as it was before. You felt defeated and embarrassed that this was how your feelings came out to him. In a rush.. a drunken rush. “Oh come on, y/n. We aren’t dating. It’s not like we have an obligation to only be with one another.” Changbin blurted out, his eyes trained on you making you even more self conscious. You took a step back upon hearing his harsh words.
Slowly nodding in realization, “So none of it meant anything to you…” You watched his face fall a bit then he shook his head rapidly, “That’s not what I meant!” He yelled, anger seeping into his voice. “No! You don’t get to be mad, Changbin. All the sneaking out, the late night secrets, the heated kisses, staying up all night to watched the sunrise..may not have meant anything to you but, it meant EVERYTHING to me!”
Reaching up to tug at your hair in frustration you began to cry a little more. Maybe it was the alcohol but your emotions are running very high. You aren’t sobbing but the overwhelming urge to just sit in the sand and cry was very appealing. “You can’t tell me you didn’t feel it too.. that buzz between us. The way you look at me sometimes.. like you know.. like you feel it too.” Your voice was softer now, broken as you cried softly.
“Y/n, please don’t cry.” Changbin came to your side and gently took your wrists to pull you into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you to give you one of his protective hugs that you loved so much. It would be easy to just fall back into it again. To let him comfort you and nothing would change. That would be the issue.. nothing would change.
In that moment you made a decision, you were going to choose you this time. No more chasing after a man who clearly was not going to do more than just string you along. “Stop.” You mumbled just as he kissed your forehead and you stepped out of his hold. “No more, I don’t want to stop seeing you but, all of this can’t be one sided. I can’t be strung along anymore. You may not realize what you’re doing but it’s very clear to me now. I’m just someone to touch and kiss and be with when you’re lonely.”
Changbin began to speak but you held up your hand to silence him. “This hurts, I don’t want to stop this but, it hurts more knowing I’m giving you all of me when I will only ever get the pieces of you that you want to give away.” You shook your head as you began to walk backwards. “Don’t call me, don’t text me. This stops now. I wont be a convenience anymore.” Now you were sobbing heavily and you could see the reality hit Changbin. That you really meant what you were saying.
Before you turned around to walk away, “I’m done waiting for you to feel the way I do.” You didn’t say goodbye, you simply turned away from him and walked back to the parking lot. After the car you had ordered came to pick you up and you were on your way back home is when you allowed yourself to break down. The man driving probably thought you were insane but your body had to let it out.
It was like experiencing a death. Your entire body felt it. You cried hard but, tried to stay as silent as possible. Your shoulders shaking as the tears fell, wetting not only your cheeks but, also streaming down your chin and neck, dripping onto your shirt. You had fallen for Changbin slowly and then rapidly, head over heels and this was the hardest thing you had ever had to do. You loved him but, he didn’t love you the way you needed.
You should have been proud of yourself for putting your heart first but all you could think was.. how would you live your days without him.. and then in the back of your mind you hoped maybe this would make him realize he needed you too.
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callmegaith · 2 days
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hehehheh...😈
68 😄
you still get a nice little drawing ; )
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A clouded perspective removes the alarm I didn't mean to cause so much harm Your shattered frame will never be the same love of your life to a beast with no name It's difficult to say his name even out of context, the letters stick together like pain is just a contest Have a good look in the mirror and pull the trigger, it's self defense In order to fix your heart you have to kill your innocence Or keep filling that hole with more concrete Always sinking means the cycle will repeat Your heart will beat again You need an ending to begin Kill me with every could-have-been By picking the fights that you can't win
HONESTLY ONE OF MY FAV JACKALOPE SONGS ON THIS PLAYLIST! SO REALLY GOOD CHOICE!
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kylobith · 3 days
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Little Town Tails
Chapter 6: Something Fishy
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Summary: A curious visitor comes to Emerald Grove.
Ship/Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav
Trope: Modern AU, Meet-cute, Little countryside town, Cosy
Word count: 4,831
Read it on Ao3 here
Listen to the dedicated playlist on Spotify here
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‘Ah, Halsin, there you are!’
‘Good morning, Jaheira,’ he greets the florist back with a bright grin. He wipes his muddy shoes on the rubber mat outside until they are presentable enough to go in. Behind him, Scratch sits at the door, unleashed, waiting for Halsin to be done with his visit before heading home.
Jaheira grins at the white dog and whistles, calling him inside. The dog eyes his owner hesitantly, but when the latter gives him an approving nod, Scratch trots up behind the counter to be petted by his host. She grabs the banana she was snacking on and takes off a piece she offers him.
Halsin approaches the counter and smiles at the sight, always happy to see that his dog is accepted somewhere. While petting Scratch behind the ears, Jaheira looks at his visitor and smirks.
‘Walked around the forest this morning again?’
‘Indeed. The weather was perfect, but last night’s rain made the ground a bit soft, as you could tell from my boots.’
‘It’s always like that. At least they say that this spring will bring more sunny days than usual,’ she adds, chuckling as the dog lies down at her feet. ‘Anyway, did you happen to see Minsc at all? I’ve been trying to call him for two days because he ordered a fresh bouquet, but now the flowers are waning.’
He leans on his elbows and fidgets with one of her business cards on the counter.
‘I did, he was patrolling the area by the other bridge. Had I known, I would have reminded him.’
‘Oh, don’t bother. It’s always like that with him. He tends to forget what he orders on a whim. He’s always ready to support my shop since I opened but he never picks up his orders. He did, once, but that was a flower for Boo’s birthday and he ordered flax seeds. That was it.’
They share a laugh. Minsc certainly is quite the character, anyone meeting him can tell. Quite eccentric compared to the rest of Heawick, but he adds to the charm of the community. Whenever somebody needs help, whether when the flower shop was merely an idea sprouting into Jaheira’s mind or with Beaky’s incident with the bear trap, he never hesitates to lend a hand, even though it tends to distract him from his daily tasks and chores. Yet, there is no better forest warden.
Jaheira flips through the pages of her logbook and finds Halsin’s recent order.
‘So, the spider plant, was it?’ she says absent-mindedly. ‘Found a gorgeous one for you. Fluffy, in good health. Perfect for your counter.’
‘Eager to see it!’
She chuckles and heads to the back to fetch the plant. She returns with precisely what she promised him, setting it down on her counter for him to examine. He touches the long leaves between his fingers, sensing the freshness of their greenish white stripes and admiring the way that they curve elegantly around the gold-painted bucket serving as its display pot.
‘What a beauty!’ he coos, his eyes sparkling in awe. ‘How much do I owe you?’
‘Eighteen gold coins.’
‘Perfect, thank you.’
He takes out and begins to rummage through his coin purse, which takes Jaheira by surprise and causes her to smile. Shaped like the head of a teddy bear, its fur is made from light brown fleece, and the eyes and nose are embroidered in black and pink thread. He bought it at a flea market a few years ago on one of the rare holidays he allowed himself to take. Many raised an eyebrow to see a grown man buy it for himself, but even though he is far from materialistic, it is one of the few objects that he has grown particularly fond of.
He places the eighteen gold coins in the palm of Jaheira’s hand and slips two more into her tip jar.
‘Thank you,’ she says with a brief bow of her head. ‘Don’t forget to repot it from time to time, the roots tend to grow fast. And water it once to twice a week. It’s usually alright if you skip a week, as long as you don’t do it for a month straight.’
The veterinarian laughs and watches the florist remove the plant from the yellow pot. He purses his lips and tilts his head.
‘How much for that pot? It suits the plant quite well.’
Jaheira stops and eyes the bucket.
‘Oh, this? Ah, just take it. On the house.’
‘Certainly not,’ Halsin protests, unzipping his coin purse again and counting the coins in it. ‘Name your price.’
‘I insist, take it. I bought it years ago but it doesn’t suit my home, I use it for visualisation most of the time… Or as a pencil pot.’
She nudges it towards him with a wink. With a sigh and a heavy blush, Halsin slips ten gold coins into the tip jar and winks back. Once the plant is back in the bucket, he calls out for Scratch, who seeks one last pet from Jaheira, then rushes to his owner’s feet. The veterinarian and the florist exchange cheerful goodbyes, and the former exits the shop with his dog in tow and the spider plant tucked in the crook of his elbow.
Halsin whistles a tune as he crosses Heawick with his free hand buried in his pocket. He nods politely at everybody he sees with a smile and continues his walk back to Emerald Grove. The town is still awaking from its slumber and some of the shops are only just opening. Sometimes it still surprises him that Jaheira decides to open hers this early, but as she once said to him, she prefers to tackle her daily routine in the early hours, then close one or two hours before most shops so she can enjoy the town herself and have a longer evening to relax or meet up with her friends at the old pub on Westway Street.
Come to think of it, it is not such a bad idea. Shop owners and employees seldom have the opportunity to shop for themselves, unless they work half shifts or rely on partners who have the time to buy everything they need. More often, their only occasion to do so is on Saturdays, but the busy aisles deter quite a few. Since Heawick has a wider variety of establishments of all the nearing towns — not counting the city, of course —, its streets bustle with visitors on that particular day.
As he turns onto his street, he switches hands to hold the plant and fumbles through his pocket to find his keys. When he pulls them out and looks up to make sure that he does not walk too far, he notices the figure of a man peering through the windows of the practice. Dressed in black from head to toe, matching with his silky and spiky raven hair, the man does not seem to have come with a pet and does not seem particularly eager to enter.
‘Good morning,’ Halsin greets him with an eyebrow raised. ‘May I help you? Do you have or need an appointment?’
The man is startled despite the veterinarian’s soft tone. He straightens up and looks over at Halsin, seemingly analysing him in detail. The stranger rubs his index and thumb together and scowls at Scratch, who does not dare approach him at all. His demeanour already betrays the fact that he comes from the richer quarters of the city and is not used to visiting the area at all. There is a haughty air to him in the way that he carries himself, as if the word ‘peasant’ is about to slip off his tongue at any moment to describe Halsin and his shockingly unleashed pet.
‘No,’ he replies in a honeyed tone still tinted with firmness. ‘But I will come back later.’
Without uttering another word, the man spins around on his heel and walks away, leaving Halsin utterly confused with his key in hand. What a strange character.
The veterinarian shrugs it off and enters the dark practice, ushering Scratch inside before closing the door again behind him. He walks over to Karlach’s counter and finds a suitable spot for the plant, making sure to stand on both sides of the desk to ensure that the view is not obstructed for neither his assistant or a patient’s owner. But in the end, he finds that it does not quite fit there with the cards and flyers and tip jar, so he carries it over to the small coffee table in the centre of the waiting room. At least, if the anxious pets munch on the leaves, they will not be sick from it.
After a brief shower and a change into scrubs, he lets Scratch rest upstairs and heads back to the practice to follow the daily opening routine. As he takes a minute to make himself a cup of fruity tea — a bold decision considering how often he drinks his signature mint and honey infusion —, his mobile phone pings. Karlach’s name appears on the screen.
‘Morning doc, sorry but I’ll be late today, Vixen just won’t start! I’ll be there ASAP, promise promise!’
Halsin grins and immediately types back as he flicks the light switches on and shuffles towards the front door without paying much attention to his surroundings.
‘It should be quiet for the first hour, hopefully you will have found a way by then. Good luck finding an alternative! Perhaps you can ask Gale? Halsin. PS: I hope that Vixen will be alright. Too bad that she is not the type of vixen that I would treat at the practice :-).’
His wrist flicks to unlock the door while he re-reads the message to correct any typos he might have made. Eager to let some fresh air in, he opens the door wide.
‘Morning, doctor!’
Halsin nearly drops his phone when he jolts in surprise, not having expected that somebody might have already arrived. After all, he does not have any appointment planned before an hour. Outside, wiping her feet on the mat, Tav smiles at him with twinkling eyes and a light flush from noticing that her sudden greeting startled him.
His heart instantly leaps inside his chest and his lips mirror her grin.
‘Oh, good morning Miss Ashguard! I apologise for my reaction, I did not expect such an early visit. Is everything alright?’
Tav quickly combs her fingers through her freshly-cut curtain fringe. It suits her incredibly well, he catches himself thinking. The way that it sweeps across her eyebrows, its colour only highlighting the deep blue of her irises… It nearly steals the breath from his lungs.
‘Yes, yes, everything’s fine!’
He steps aside and invites her inside. As she passes him by with a light step, he closes his eyes for a second, savouring the aroma of her flowery perfume. As he realises what he is doing, he clears his throat and follows her to the reception.
‘Do you need anything more for the case against Mr Bongle? Perhaps I have forgotten to include some information in the report?’
She leans her elbows on the counter and does not seem able to eff the smile across her rosy cheeks. The sight, however sweet and pleasant, does stir something within him and he curses himself internally for reacting the way that he does.
‘No, not at all. The lawyer said it was quite complete, actually. She’s revising the case and I just have to wait now,’ she chimes with a shrug. ‘I’ve come here because there’s a stray cat in my street that’s been going around for a while but lately he’s been looking quite thinner. The old lady who used to feed it everyday died a few weeks ago, and I’m not sure anyone feeds him anymore.’
Her gaze wanders over to the rows of kibble bags on the display shelves.
‘I’d like to buy some food for him just to be on the safe side, and since I don’t want to risk giving him the wrong stuff, I thought I’d buy it here.’
‘I see,’ he responds with a nod. His eyes brighten up at the thought that she cares for an animal that is not hers. Most people he has seen refuse to approach stray animals out of fear that they might catch diseases or fleas, and while some caution is always advised, too many of them end up suffering all sorts of infections that go untreated and only cause them agony. Knowing that there is someone like Tav out there caring enough to notice the change in the cat’s weight gives him hope.
Halsin steps back to peruse the selection he has got, heading straight to the cat section.
‘Do you know how old the cat is, approximately?’ he asks.
‘Mmh, he doesn’t look too old. Hears and sees properly from what I know, his fur isn’t too patchy. Some neighbour said the old lady fed him for about three years.’
‘Then let us take one for adult cats to be on the safe side. I suppose that you do not happen to know what type of kibble she gave him?’
‘Not at all. Sorry.’
He nods and asks her a few more questions about what behaviours she has noticed from the cat in general. Once he is able to define a clearer profile of the animal, he picks a bag and sets it down on the counter, pointing at the information written on it with his pen.
‘This is food that is perfect for a cat used to the outdoors, aged five years or more. If it turns out that he is slightly younger, that should not cause any trouble. Since you said that he is on the lighter side, I would recommend thirty grammes of kibble per day. See how much he manages to eat and add a little more if he starts gaining a bit of weight again. But do not give him more than forty-five grammes, since it is likely that he hunts mice or birds on the side.’
‘Noted!’
Reaching into a cabinet behind the reception, he takes out a measuring cup and places it next to the bag.
‘This should help you measure the food without a kitchen scale.’
‘Practical. Alright, let’s take it!’
Halsin smiles and circles the recommended doses on the bag so she does not forget the amount he has told her to give the stray cat. He signs in to his software and enters the right reference to log the sale.
‘Would you like me to add it to your patient account in case you need to buy some new kibble later on?’
‘Gladly,’ she responds cheerfully, leaning her cheek into the palm of her hand while watching him typing on the keyboard.
‘Done! That will be twenty-two gold coins, please. The measuring cup is free.’
Tav takes out her credit card and pays for the bag. Once her wallet is stored away into her small cross-body bag, she carries the dry food under her arm and holds the measuring cup between her fingers.
‘Thank you very much, doctor.’
‘You are most welcome. If anything, I should thank you for caring for the cat.’
She returns his smile and tucks her hair behind her pointy ear, whose tip is reddening. Before he starts staring at it, Halsin drums his fingers on the counter.
‘Oh, before I forget, I beg you not to leave out milk for the cat, because—’
‘— because cats are naturally lactose intolerant,’ she completes his sentence with a smug expression that can be likened to this of a pupil who is proud to show that they have learnt their lessons by heart.
‘Indeed,’ he chuckles. ‘Well, it seems that the cat is in most capable hands, I can sleep soundly at night.’
Tav laughs and readjusts her grip on the bag.
‘When I’m released into society, I’m the type to always bring up that fact and everyone gets annoyed,’ she laughs.
‘At least you are spreading the good word out there. I did not know that you were doing public service on top of jingle compositions.’
‘I’m full of surprises, doctor.’
They share a playful grin, which lingers perhaps a bit longer than it should. His heart stirs when he notices the twinkle in her eye and the subtle reddening of her cheekbones. When her fingers unconsciously loosen around the measuring cup and it slips out of her grasp, he skilfully catches it before it bounces on the floor and hands it back to her.
‘Oh, thanks,’ she mumbles bashfully, tucking it under her free arm. ‘If anything goes wrong with the cat, can I try and bring him here?’
‘Of course. I will be happy to help.’
‘You’re the best! Thanks again. Have a lovely day, doctor.’
‘You too, Miss Ashguard. If you have any doubts, you can always contact me.’
‘I will!’
She waves at him and walks out of the practice. His eyes follow her as he sighs dreamily. However, his distraction is quickly cut short when he finds himself face to face with Astarion stepping inside with a cup of blood from the butcher.
‘Morning.’
‘Ah, good morning, my friend! Could I ask you a favour?’
The vampire grunts and slides his sunglasses up, letting them rest on top of his head. His ruby irises scowl at the veterinarian. Favours are never good in the younger man’s book. Or rarely.
‘I suppose I don’t have a choice,’ he mumbles. ‘What do you want?’
Halsin crosses his arms. No matter how much he tries to connect with him, even if just on a superficial level, Astarion always keeps his guard up and his distance. Honeyed words sometimes ornate his speech, but they never feel genuine, merely a façade that shelters him from others. He does not need to befriend him, of course, but he wishes that they could get along as well as he and Karlach do. But again, everything is easier with her. Sometimes, she might be too social and kind in a world that does not always value such qualities.
‘Karlach’s motorcycle broke down this morning, so she will be late. Do you mind working the reception until she arrives?’
Panic fills Astarion’s eyes right away. He furrows his brow and tries to act nonchalant, but his hesitation clearly stands out.
‘Wh— I don’t even know how any of this works!’
‘Do not worry, I am not saying that you must do all her tasks. If you could keep an eye on the appointments list and welcome the patients, that will help tremendously already. If the phone rings, answer it and write down the names and numbers, I will call them back between consultations. If it is urgent, do not hang up; call for me instead.’
‘Mh. That sounds doable. Alright.’
Astarion walks to the kitchen to drop his jacket and sunglasses, then comes back to the reception. He sits behind the desk and Halsin shows him everything he needs to know. Then, the veterinarian walks into his office and logs in to the general inbox and answers some emails himself.
Soon enough, the first appointment of the day arrives and Astarion directs them to the waiting room, where Halsin eventually comes to call them in. The consultation goes smoothly despite the very reticent puppy howling dramatically at the prospect of receiving one of her first shots. When he is done, Halsin guides the owner and the pet to the reception and registers the payment himself, before offering a treat to the brave puppy.
When they walk out, Halsin’s phone pings again.
‘Found a way, Dammon is bringing me. Be there in ten. Btw, doc, did you just make a joke?? And use a smiley??! Who are you and what did you do to Doc Halsin???’
Halsin laughs and updates Astarion on Karlach’s estimated time of arrival. Before the second consultation, a grumpy customer enters and asks for an anti-flea treatment suitable for a corgi. Once he has explained how to apply the solution efficiently, the veterinarian slithers back behind the desk and Astarion rolls a few inches away with his chair to give him enough space to deal with it all. 
‘Do you already have an account?’ Halsin asks the amber-eyed tiefling, whose tail is whipping around behind him in annoyance.
‘This little shit is not my dog, thank the Gods!’ the customer answers with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. ‘He’s my sister’s.’
‘I see. Does she have an account?’
‘Listen, can I just buy the treatment and go? I feel like I’m being devoured by fleas myself as we speak!’
‘Of course.’
Without protesting, he processes the sale and gives the little pipettes to the young man, who turns around with another scoff and leaves as fast as he can, scratching his head harder than he probably should.
Eyeing the man with concern, Halsin leans towards Astarion.
‘Do you think the dog is at risk with him?’
Much to his surprise, the vampire laughs while filing his nails and admiring the result.
‘Most likely. I know him. Well, know is perhaps a strong word, but I’ve spoken to him a few times. As you can clearly tell, he’s from the city. He’s one of the most arrogant pricks I’ve talked to, and it takes one to know one. He owns a bookshop specialised in academic publications of all sorts, and my husband happens to love the place.’
Could it be? Is he actually opening up by accepting to gossip with him? Not that Halsin particularly likes hearsay and talking negatively about people in their backs, but this exchange already brightens up his day.
The vampire carefully taps his glass nail file on the edge of the bin under the desk to rid it of dust, then tucks it away in its little sleeve.
‘But don’t worry, Rolan’s all bark and no bite, he won’t hurt that pup,’ he continues while shoving the file inside his shirt pocket. ‘You know, he’s clever and all, but Gale took him down a notch a couple of times. You know what? I think my husband’s at his hottest when he gives arrogant people a reality check.’
‘That is good to know, I suppose.’
‘Trust me, doc, I think your next appointment’s here.’
Indeed, the next patient comes in and Halsin welcomes him warmly. Halfway through the consultation, he hears the faint sounds of the sewing machine upstairs, and he concludes that Karlach must have arrived in the meantime and relieved Astarion of his temporary duty.
Halsin does not see her until he finishes the next examination and logs everything into the computer. His assistant pokes her head in when the patient leaves and speaks in a hushed voice.
‘Morning, doc! Uh… There’s an odd chum lurking around in the lobby, doesn’t have a pet or anything and he keeps ignoring me when I ask him if I can help him.’
The veterinarian turns around with an eyebrow raised and instantly rises from his high stool.
‘Go back to the reception, I will talk to him.’
Karlach nods and does as he instructed her, sitting back on her chair and anxiously browsing playlists for something that will calm her nerves while being acceptable to play from the practice’s speakers. Situations like this one is among those she has been dreading most about working at Emerald Grove. Owners losing their pets and leaving without their furry or feathery friends remains the worst of all, but weird and creepy people are close.
In previous jobs, she had her fair share of lurking visitors and customers who made her feel uncomfortable, but the employee handbooks always stated that she could not shoo them away outright. Either a manager or security had to do it. Sadly, it often left her feeling incapable of fending for herself and infantilised.
Soon enough and much to her relief, help is on the way and Halsin arrives, clicking a pen. Without making himself look menacing either, he puffs up his chest slightly. If anybody seeks trouble, he is hoping that his size and his brawn will dissuade whoever stands before him. But as he catches a glimpse of the man in question, his stomach tightens. Intent on not showing his discomfort to Karlach, he smiles and speaks as naturally as possible.
‘Good afternoon, sir. I believe we have met this morning, you were looking inside the practice before opening time?’
The man turns around with a smug smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes so dark that one cannot quite pinpoint their colour. Now that Halsin is closer, he can discern the man’s outfit more clearly. Tucked into high-waisted trousers, his tailored black silk shirt with the top five buttons left undone allows his black chest hair to peek out. His overcoat adorned with golden embroideries has its collar upturned, completely covering the back of his neck. If anything, it gives him a menacing look, as though he is the villain of a fairytale come to life, but dressed as a model.
‘You are the veterinarian who owns the practice, aren’t you?’ the man answers at last with a brief squint of his eyes.
‘Indeed, I am. May I be of any help?’
‘Oh, I am merely looking around.’
As he says so, the stranger buries his hands into his pockets and paces around, inspecting the walls and the layout of the reception and the waiting room. Karlach sneaks a glance towards her boss, wondering how he is going to handle this most peculiar situation. Without blinking, Halsin steps forward, tucking his pen into the breast pocket of his scrubs.
‘May I know what you are looking for, sir?’
‘This is a beautiful working space you’ve got here. Most impressive.’
Before he can press him on, the stranger faces Halsin with a smirk, rubbing his fingers together in the same unsettling way that he did earlier this morning.
‘Tell me, have you ever considered selling this practice?’
Halsin crosses his arms. This time, he has no intention to behave in the same friendly manner. While he knows that escalating such a ridiculous situation would be useless, he knows now that he does not want this man lurking around anymore.
‘No, sir. We have only just opened, thank you very much. Now, if you do not wish to make an appointment or buy anything for a pet, I kindly ask you to leave. I must soon tend to another patient.’
‘Oh, that’s a bloody shame. Well. I’ll see what I can do.’
The man reaches into his inside pocket and takes out a business card, which he hands the veterinarian by tucking it between two well-groomed fingers.
‘In case you change your mind, I would be very happy to discuss it with you. Here’s my contact information. The name’s Enver Gortash.’
Without as much as a goodbye, Gortash walks out of the practice, leaving a dumbfounded pair at the reception. Karlach stands up from her chair, her gaze shifting between the door and Halsin.
‘What in the hells just happened, doc? What the fuck was that about?’
Her boss examines the business card he is holding with a deep frown.
‘I have no clue, Karlach. I am quite at a loss, to be honest with you.’
‘What did he say his name was?’
Halsin hands her the business card. Before she even gives it a look, she sits back on her chair and drags her keyboard towards herself, instantly typing the name in her browser. His curiosity piqued by the results, he joins her behind the desk and leans in to read what comes up on the screen. Karlach clicks on a biographical article from a business-centred media website and begins to skim it.
‘Fuck me, Gortash’s quite the big guy,’ she mumbles pensively. ‘Owns a big company that owns lots of brands itself. Apparently, he’s known for gentrifying the shit out of many neighbourhoods in several cities already. He’s kicked out independent shops to establish a coffee chain and turning flats into offices.’
His eyes scan the same words and the more they read, the tighter the lump in his throat feels. Karlach hands him the mouse so he can peruse the article himself and open others. He checks several sources, and much to his dismay, the information they read in the first article seem to be confirmed through others.
‘I do not like how that sounds,’ he whispers.
‘Me neither, doc. But now that you told him off, he’ll lose interest, right?’
‘Mh. I doubt it. But now I wonder if he has shown interest in other places in Heawick. There is only one way to know.’
The assistant looks up quizzically as he sighs heavily and crosses his arms.
‘If anybody in Heawick knows anything, it is Melly.’
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