#Anyways these are my thoughts this fine day
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On the Roof || S.JY
stranger!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), cream pie, fingering, marking and biting, sex with a stranger, weirdly fluffy, petnames (princess, baby), mentions of bad relationships with parents, alcohol, comforting, do not have sex with strangers you meet on a roof, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 9.7k synopsis: when you stumble across a boy on your apartment rooftop, you can't help but invite him to stay. a/n: hi! it's me. this is my first work back and honestly, it's not great but i just needed to get back in the swing of things so please be kind. I missed you guys a lot and the time away was exactly what i needed. thank you all for understanding, and i love you unconditionally!
The winter air tickles your senses as you push open the large, unfairly heavy door to your complex’s rooftop. It might be bitter, but it’s welcomed - your body creating unnecessary heat from both the walk up the three flights of stairs and the discomfort of your day.
Your shift was hard, too hard. Considering it’s a brand new year, you had stupidly thought that people would be a lot nicer to public service workers, yet you were proven wrong. With countless patients’ loved ones screaming down the phone to you, doctors barking demands at you because they see you as lesser than them, and not to mention the one man who decided that spitting in your face was a rational reaction to you politely telling him that he can’t see his grandmother who was in the middle of an operation.
Safe to say, you’ve had better shifts as a hospital receptionist.
But there was always one place you could count on to take a deep breath and reset. The rooftop. It’s quiet, overlooks the city, and helps you put into perspective that murder is not the answer to your life problems. But sometimes, God, you wish it was…
Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you make your way to the chairs you so perfectly placed underneath the solar-charged fairy lights, which hang half-arsed off the unused 1990 aerials. It’s not really how you would like to decorate the place, if you had it your way, you would have it looking reminiscent of the rooftop from Wish You, the same one you committed to memory as Lee Sang kissed In Soo for the first time. But since you’re not even supposed to have access to this part of the building, you’ll count the pathetic attempt at creating sanctuary as a win.
The lights guide you to your seat when you see a figure hunched over, one hand holding a beer and the other holding his head. This is not what you were expecting to see. No one comes up here, not past 10pm anyway. There is one neighbour who occupies the premises when he needs a smoke without his wife knowing, but he works the night shift. So this person is new.
“Um,” you begin, clearing your throat ever so softly to alert them of your presence without giving them an acute heart attack. “Hi?”
Their head jolts up from their hand, eyes wide and face shocked. Clearly, they didn’t expect to have company tonight either.
You focus on the figure in front of you – a boy, no older than yourself – scrutinising his features with a careful eye. As a woman, being vigilant around unfamiliar men has become second nature, an unfortunately ingrained habit of self-preservation you have mastered since before you can remember. So, your mind ticks through the usual checklist: is there a need to run? Are your shoulders getting that deep tingle that crawls up to your jaw? Is your gut making you want to vomit? None of those alarm bells ring. Instead, you’re met with something else entirely - uncertainty, maybe even sympathy.
The boy seems…fine, at least on the surface. No initial gut-wrenching unease claws at your insides. Emboldened by the absence of any red flags, you take another ginger step closer, studying him in detail.
His large, tired brown eyes peer out from behind thick-rimmed glasses, the weight of exhaustion evident. The glasses sit securely on his pretty thick nose. His lips, naturally full and a muted pink, are set in a neutral line, though the light could be softening their actual colour - it’s hard to tell beneath the hood’s shadow. Greasy, near-black hair clings to his forehead, unkempt but thick.
His outfit doesn’t fare much better to be honest; a mishmash of layers that hints at desperation more than deliberation. Faded grey jeans hang loose and crinkled, clearly worn more than once without a wash. Over a white t-shirt sits a black hoodie, topped off with a jacket far too big for him, the kind of size that suggests it doesn’t belong to him at all. The entire image strikes you in a way that leaves concern pricking all over your chest.
Steeling yourself, you step closer again, your voice soft but firm. “Are you okay?” The question is sincere, meant to come across as a kind gesture - like when you let a cat sniff around your hand before you just go in for the pet. Your eyes meet his, offering as much warmth as you can muster. There’s something about the way he sits, cold and crumpled, that pulls at your humanity.
At first, his expression flickers, betraying something fragile beneath the surface. But it doesn’t last. In an instant, his jaw sets, and his shoulders square in a defensive shift. His cheeks hollow as his tongue presses against them, words unspoken but clearly brewing. The moment hangs in the air, heavy and awkward.
It’s as if your simple question has poked at a bruise, tender and raw. You’ve touched something buried, and for reasons you can’t yet work out, his reaction irks you. Of all things to take issue with, why this? What on earth had he expected - for you not to ask a very valid question? Perhaps it’s the day you’ve had that’s caused the unnecessary offence on your behalf.
He averts his gaze, the connection between you severed. Instead, he tips back the beer bottle in his hand, his focus shifting to the cityscape below. The quiet glug of liquid slipping down his throat is the only response you get, and it grates against the care you offered.
A flicker of irritation sparks within you. Perhaps it’s the brush-off, or maybe it’s the contradiction in his actions. He’s sitting here in your space, looking like the embodiment of a cry for help, yet recoils at the smallest act of kindness. Still, you don’t back down. Instead, you shift your weight and tilt your head, keeping your tone neutral but unwavering.
“Fine, If you don’t want to talk, that’s sound,” you say, folding your arms against the cold. “But sitting out here, looking like the world’s chewed you up and spat you out…people are going to ask questions like ‘are you okay’ or ‘what’s the matter’. Just saying.” You huff out and follow his gaze to the city. People are having a much better day than you out there, and envy jabs at you.
For a moment, you think he’ll continue ignoring you; his shoulders remain tense, his grip on the bottle firm. But then he sighs, the sound long and weary, like air escaping a deflating balloon, one being pinched and controlled. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, a surprising Australian accent whistling through the wind.
“I’m fine,” he mutters, though the words lack conviction. His eyes remain fixed on the horizon, steadfastly avoiding yours.
“You’re a terrible liar,” you counter, letting a small, dry smile tug at your lips. “And you’re also not allowed up here.”
A tense silence follows, broken only by the chug of a train in the far distance. It’s not exactly comfortable, but neither is it unbearable. You find yourself wondering who he is and what’s brought him to this specific rooftop.
“You can’t get up here unless you’re a tenant,” you blurt out, trying to get any morsel of information from him. You figure the quicker you find out what he’s doing here, the quicker you can find a solution for him to leave and then have your safe space back to yourself. You might have sympathy for him, clearly having a hard time of life, but so are you - and your comfort outweighs a total stranger who can’t even bother to look your way.
“Okay,” he says bored, sipping his beer again.
“That’s your invitation to either tell me that you moved in recently, or, your queue to leave because you’re trespassing.”
“Invitation declined.”
He is so rude, you think to yourself, though you wonder whether you should just call him out for it and at least gain some reaction for him.
Instead, you park yourself in the seat next to him, huffing as you drop down. “Well I’m not leaving until you do,” you state matter-of-factly, attempting to not let his presence ruin your mood even further. You suppose, if he sits and shuts up, you can at least pretend he isn’t here invading your space.
Though technically, you’re invading his, but you get the idea.
The boy side-eyes you, a small, angry smirk etching onto his cold rosey face. “Yeah? Well, you’re gonna be here for a long fucking time.” He spits his words out, frustration laced within each syllable, though you can tell it’s not directed towards you. The boy is so far in his own head that you begin to realise that any discontentment he might have has less to do with you and your presence, and more to do with the reason he’s hibernating on your rooftop.
So, you sit back, and leave him be. To be honest, you’ve dealt with far worse and crabbier people today, in comparison, this boy is like rainbows and kittens.
Closing your eyes, you let the white noise of the night take over you, infiltrating all your tension and disdain towards the day, and settling you into a comfortable silence. The fairy lights above add a serene atmosphere that you crave after work, the faint lights providing some fake warmth. They were not easy to get up there, but a few falls and tangles later, you realised that all the scrapes and twirls were worth it.
The hooded boy beside you peaks over, finally taking you in as more than an inconvenience. He notices how you breathe in deep, exhaling with a sigh of relief and a cloud of warmth that combats the freezing air.
It doesn’t take him a minute to realise that you’ve had a bad day too, and a pang of guilt hits him. He’s being unfair to you when you probably just want to relax under the night sky and here he is taking up space.
He takes up too much space.
Reaching down at his feet, he picks up a bottle of beer from his case, the clinking not even disturbing your quest for serenity. He pokes your thigh with the bottom of the bottle, gaining your attention. When your eyes meet once again, there’s a sorrowful look on his face, the alcohol a form of apology for being an arsehole. It’s an apology you’ll gladly accept.
“You look like you could use it,” he murmurs, offering a tight smile as he waits for you to take the brown glass bottle.
You wrap your hand around the base and lift it up in thanks. “I could use ten sambucas and a pint of tequila to wash them down,” you snort out a sarcastic chuckle, beginning to unscrew the cap. You need to thank whatever genius decided that bottle openers were too much hassle and gave people a much easier and more practical way to open a bottle of beer. You hope they’re having a good night.
The boy lets out a laugh, short but genuine, raising his own bottle to his lips. “That bad, huh?” he asks, voice muffled slightly by the glass.
“It gets like that,” you shrug, taking a long pull from the bottle, barely savouring the taste, routing around for the effects of calmness that it will bring rather than its pallet. “Comes with working in a hospital.”
He raises an eyebrow, curiosity momentarily overriding his gloom “Nurse?”
“Receptionist.” You correct him, hissing out as you absorb the alcohol. Beer is not your favourite taste, a Sex on the Beach is much more appealing, but you would down a tank of gasoline if it meant you could get rid of this stress.
He sucks in an empathetic breath, whistling low as he leans back against the seat. “Yeah, you need a gun, not alcohol.”
The comment catches you off guard, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, you laugh - really laugh. It bursts out of you, raw and unrestrained, carrying away the weight of the day. Life isn’t inherently awful, but it’s lonely sometimes. Working back shift in the hospital makes it hard to keep friends or any semblance of a social life. The most interaction you get that isn’t disgruntled patients or angry phone calls is on twitter with your online friends, but even then, it’s a rise-and-repeat conversation cycle of ‘for real’ and ‘same’ replies to posts you make about Jang Kyungho when no one is looking.
Not exactly the deep human connection that people need.
So this, being able to laugh and have a bit of understanding for even a second, is comforting. It almost makes you feel bad for cursing the boy out in your head.
Smiling, you extend a hand to him, “Y/N.”
He hesitates for a fraction of a second before taking it. “Jaeyun,” he replies, offering you a smile in return. It’s faint but sincere, a crack in the armour he’s wearing so tightly.
As he grips your hand in his, you feel the ice-coldness on his skin, a clear indicator that he has been up here for quite some time. Or at least out in the open air. It only makes you more intrigued - and with him being a little slither more open with you, you decide to take the nugget and run with it.
So you talk, and talk, and talk. It feels like forever but it’s actually only two hours. Not a lot is said, but you learn some things about him; hobbies, interests, friends, his favourite TV shows and Films. All surface-level stuff, yet it feels like you’re speaking to an old friend. He learns about you too - the same stuff, with added anecdotes about working in a hospital.
But there is one thing that you are dying to know.
“So,” you begin, twisting your patio chair to face him fully, the legs scraping along the asphalt of the roof. “You can guess I’m here after a bad shift…why are you here?” Your face is expectant, waiting for an answer while you drink your beer.
But Jaeyun’s face is overcome with a flash of rage, partly due to your question, but more the fact that your question made him think about the reason he is here. Though, as quickly as his face shows agitation, it dissipates just as fast. Instead, he opts for an obtuse response. “Just wanted to enjoy the view. That’s all.”
“Couldn’t do that from your own building, no?” you tease lightly, humour softening the prodding tone. But your persistence nudges too close to something real. “Oh... did your girlfriend kick you out?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, too sharp and intrusive.
Unfortunately, it’s a habit of yours to be so nosey that it comes off inconsiderate or produces ill-timed questions. In this instance, it’s both.
His grip tightens on the neck of the bottle. The knuckles whiten, the tension visible. For a moment, he studies the label, reading the same ingredients over and over as if they hold the secret to life's greatest mystery - what happened on that fishing trip in Gavin and Stacey.
“My parents did. Yeah.” His confession is sharp, devoid of emotion
Your stomach drops. “Oh...” It’s all you manage, guilt prickling at the edges of your thoughts. You’re so stupid for poking Y/N! You inwardly scold yourself. Obviously, this issue is so much bigger than you can process. Still, your mouth will continue to flap around.
“Yep.” He pops the p with bitter precision, his tone teetering on the edge of sarcasm. “Apparently, I need to ‘get my act together.’” He says with accompanying quotation marks from his fingers.
“As in?”
“As in I need to be their perfect little boy and follow in my brother’s footsteps - be a lawyer.” The words fall flat, heavy with resentment.
Nodding along, the pieces form enough for you to make your own solid conclusions. “And I guess you don’t want that?”
“Fuck no.” Jaeyun scoffs out a bitter laugh. “I’m more likely to need a lawyer than be one.”
“Ohhh a bad boy huh?” you wiggle your brows, trying to interject some semblance of humour into the moment while sussing him out, to lighten his load even just a smidge. You can’t begin to imagine what his parents said or did to him once he rejected their concept of a perfect life, and you don’t really want him to dwell on it right now either.
He laughs despite himself, a quiet sound that momentarily lightens his expression. “Maybe.” It’s a noncommittal answer, but he seems content to let you spin your own version of events.
Honestly, he is not bad in any shape or form. But when he says he would need a lawyer rather than being one, he means that that career is so absurd that even a goody too shoes like him is more likely to get in trouble before he stands in a suit.
He just wants to live his life without this great expectation, without people demanding he ‘do better’ when he knows he is doing just fine; he’s in a great University, studying music and production, and has a decent part-time job at the record store, which isn’t loads of money, but enough for him to pay his mum and dad digs and still have a life outside their constraints. He’s doing fine, or so he believes.
But fine isn’t enough for his parents. Their love towards their own son is tied to the weight of their expectations, ones he can’t - or won’t - carry.
“So they just…kicked you out?” you ask carefully, noting the sorrow in his features as he turns the events of the past few months in his head. Sympathy creeps back into your chest, any lingering annoyance dissipating along with the last sips of your beer.
“Yeah,” he confirms, sighing and shrugging. “It’s fine.”
“Are you staying with friends or…” You don’t finish the question because you’re scared of the answer; the dishevelled clothes and hair are enough to semi-confirm.
Jaeyun looks up, his gaze catching the glimmer of the fairy lights, their soft glow reflected in his dark irises. “I was, until a few days ago. You can only couch-hop for so long before people start to feel like you’re intruding.”
He holds no malice towards his friends, no bitterness in his tone, and honestly, his best friend Sunghoon said he could stay for as long as it took him to save up for an apartment of his own. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, the boy already doing more for him than most would have. Even Jay, his other friend, offered to loan him the money for the first month's rent on a flat uptown.
But Jaeyun’s pride wouldn’t allow him to take advantage of their kindness. He would manage on his own, no matter how hard it got.
Seeing the pity in your eyes, he waves his hand to brush off your concern. “It’s fine, I’ve scraped up enough money to get rent now. I just need to find a place,” he smiles softly, appreciative of your sympathy even if he doesn’t want it. “I’ll be fine. I’m going looking tomorrow.”
There’s a sense of relief that his words bring you. Although his predicament isn’t ideal right now, it looks like it could be on the turnaround, and for that, you’re thankful.
“If it’s only for one night, do you want my couch?” The offer spills out before you can stop it, surprising even yourself.
Jaeyun laughs heartedly, eyebrows knitting in disbelief and amusement. “You’re fucking stupid.”
“Huh?!” you exclaim in shock. It’s not really the response you were expecting. A yes? Sure. A no? Absolutely. But an insult to punctuate your act of kindness was a curveball.
Sitting up straight, he places his beer on the ground, an amused smile softening his features. “I’m a random man you’ve known for a couple of hours. I could do anything to you in your own home, and you don’t seem the slightest bit worried about that.”
Okay, maybe he has a massive point. You don’t know him and he could literally attack you at any moment. And considering earlier you had to assess him before approaching, it shows that you do have the common sense not to let him stay with you.
But he poses no threat, none whatsoever. He’s just a boy in a fucked up situation, and your kind heart can’t see him freeze; god knows how many nights he’s been out. He’s already reminiscent of Jack Dawson turning into a block of iced body parts.
“Well, you won’t right?” You throw the question back to him. “I mean, to be honest, I’ve let men in my bed for a lot less than a tiny conversation and a beer.”
As soon as the words tumble out of your mouth, your cheeks flush to match his cold ones, neck tingling in embarrassment. You’ve just confessed that your standards are abysmally low - you’ve slept with men who didn’t even have the decency to buy you a drink nevermind learn your name.
Jaeyun stifles a laugh, rubbing at his eye. “For your pride, I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” The smile on his face is so beautiful that you’re caught off guard a little. Now you wish he was one of the men you let roll around on top of you for a compliment and a ride home.
His expression shifts, returning to a more serious note, though the smile lingers. “Seriously, Y/N. Thank you for the offer, but I only have” - he glances at his watch - “six hours before sunrise anyway.”
“Seriously, it’s no trouble-”
“I’m serious too,” he interrupts gently, slouching back into his seat. “You should go in. It’s cold, and after the day you’ve had, you need sleep.”
“I-”
“Y/N.” His tone is firm but not unkind. “I’m fine. Go. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
His refusal stings in a strange way, the rejection of your kindness more personal than it should feel. But you know better than to argue with someone so resolute. It never ends well. So, with a resigned nod, you down the last of your beer and stand.
“Okay,” you reply, setting the empty bottle aside. “I’m in 4A if you change your mind. I can grab some blankets? Pillows?”
Jaeyun places a hand over his heart, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. But I promise I’ll survive.”
And so, you leave him there, your heart tugging at you to insist, to argue, to make him take shelter in your tiny flat. But your feet keep moving, respecting his wishes.
As you reach the door, you glance back one last time, the words caught in your throat. You just hope he’ll be okay.
_____
The rain lashes, jolting you awake. It’s not the pretty white noise rain that you enjoy, it sounds like hundreds of tiny little pebbles being pelted at your window. Strange. It was forecast as clear skies until at least Tuesday.
You blink groggily, groaning at the interruption. You can’t have been asleep for more than two hours - if that. Begrudged, you turn your back to the outside, shielding yourself from the rain that cannot attack you. Yet, an unsettling feeling stews in the bottom of your stomach, the kind that makes your heart beat faster and your mouth gain moisture.
It’s not uncommon for you to have random spouts of anxiety, all your life you’ve suffered from it, but this isn’t your typical ‘my brain is going to bring up that one time I peed myself in primary 2 and had to be sent home’ anxiety. This is something more.
Fuck.
Jaeyun.
The thought hits you like a bolt of lightning and your body moves before your mind can catch up. You fling off your pastel pink duvet, slide your feet into your beloved fuzzy slippers, and throw on a housecoat to cover your half-naked form. If you had the right mindset and not half asleep and half in panic, you would have grabbed a rain jacket and some trainers instead.
Thought, without thinking about your own state, the chilly air cuts at your skin as you make your way to the roof. The rain, now mixed with hail, pelts down hard, each sting enhancing your concern. Your eyes roam around near the seated area, one of your hands shielding your eyes from the brutal hailstones, each one nipping your hand in anger.
"Jaeyun?" you shout, your voice cutting through the storm, only to be drowned out by the constant rain. You get closer to the seats and see nothing. Panic overwhelms you, hot and stifling. "Are you still here?"
As you spin around, your eyes finally land on him. He’s slumped up against the rooftop enclosure which acts as a headboard to an uncomfortable concrete bed. His jacket and hoodie are doing as much to protect him as a candyfloss blanket, each soaked through and clinging to his skin. How can he sleep like this? It makes you wonder if he lied about just how long he had stopped couch-crashing and living out in the open.
Quickly, you drop to your knees beside him, ignoring the puddle that entrenchs your legs, and place your hand on his shoulder as you shake him awake. “Jaeyun?” you bellow, loud enough for him to startle awake and instantly put a guard up.
“Huh?” he mumbles, voice thick with confusion.
“Come on, I’m not leaving you up here,” you inform. This time, it isn’t a question but a demand. You have too much compassion to willingly leave him up here any longer.
Jaeyun’s eyes squint through his water-splattered glasses as he takes in your figure. “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing? You’re soaked,” he states the obvious, yet oblivious to his own state. “Go back inside.”
“Not without you,” you fire back. “Grab your things.”
“But-”
“Either that or I stay up here with you,” you cut him off, voice firm though only kindness shines through.
You can see the conflict in his face, his concern for your drenched state outweighing his stubbornness. He sighs, defeated, and finally nods. “Fine.”
If there is one thing Jaeyun hates to be is a burden, but it seems no matter what happens, he will inconvenience you in some way - might as well choose the drier option.
Standing upright, you extend a hand, offering him some help up, but he refuses. Instead, he grabs the duffle beside him and clumsily gets up, following you down and into your apartment.
As soon as he walks into the warmth, his bones leap with excitement and his shoulders relax in contentment. You flick on the lights which allows him a better view of your personal space. And it is exactly how he imagined it.
Your walls are covered in art and photos of you and your friends, lyric posters from bands he has never even heard of, and a shrine to TO1 in the corner. It’s cosy, lived in, and he feels a massive pang of envy.
“You can use my shower,” you say while subconsciously tidying up, removing the cups and wine glasses that have piled on the coffee table. “Luckily for you, I like wearing guy’s clothes on my period so I’ll see what I can find to fit you.”
“Seriously, Y/N. I’ll just, dry off with a towel or something, No Stress.” He doesn’t like the fuss but he can’t deny he doesn’t feel a little fuzzy as you make space for him.
Scoffing, you turn around with a perplexed look on your face. “A towel? Jaeyun, you’re soaked to the bone. You need a shower and then you can have a towel, okay?”
A grateful grin adorns the boy’s face as he takes his shoes off. “Okay. Thank you, Y/N. Seriously.” Jaeyun nods, clutching his damp duffle as he trudges towards the bathroom.
You point out the way, adding a quick, “Towels are on the rack, and there’s shampoo, soap, and more in there. Just use whatever you need, okay?”
With another muttered thank you, he waddles to your bathroom, suddenly enthralled with how the night has panned out. It’s been a while since he had a decent shower, and the ones in the Uni’s lockeroom are made more for a quick wash down than a deep cleanse.
As he disappears into the bathroom, you let out a sigh, glancing around your apartment. It isn’t a mess by your standards, but you suddenly feel self-conscious about the clutter. Usually, when people are up, it’s those who are either only making their way to your bedroom or those who do not care and have known you long enough to understand that you like a bit of mess.
A messy home is a home loved.
The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom, and you take the moment to rummage through your wardrobe. You pull out a pair of joggies and an oversized hoodie that has seen you coming every cycle for the past three years. You can’t get much more comfort than these. They’ll be a bit loose on his slim frame, but they’re warm and dry.
Speaking of which, you glance down at your own rain-soaked state, grimacing. The slippers squelch faintly with each step, and the damp housecoat clings unpleasantly to your skin. Without hesitation, you pull out a baggy t-shirt and some old pyjama shorts, slipping into them after quickly drying off your hair with a towel that’s close by. It’s not inherently clean, but it serves its purpose, so that’s good for now.
Satisfied, you place the clothes Jaeyun will borrow on the sofa before heading to the kitchen. The kettle hums to life as the storm outside continues its symphony, the hail getting more dangerous and cutthroat. A hot cup of tea feels like just the thing to chase away the chill, after all, there’s little problems in life that a good cuppa can’t fix.
Just as you reach for the tea bags, the creak of the bathroom door pulls your attention.
Jaeyun steps out, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead, droplets of water glistening on his skin. A towel sits promiscuously low on his hips, and despite yourself, your gaze trails downward. The delicate silver chain around his neck catches the light, the cross pendant resting at eye level with his pretty brown nipples. Your eyes wander further, taking in the faint definition of his toned abs, the subtle dip hinting at a v-line. And his cock is outlined perfectly to give you an idea of his size and width but you can tell it still doesn’t do him justice.
You realise with a jolt that your mouth is slightly open, and the train of your thoughts is taking a decidedly inappropriate detour. Heat rushes to your cheeks as your mind conjures up scenarios you’d never admit aloud. A pang of guilt follows swiftly - this boy has been through hell, and he’s come to you for solace, not to be gawked at.
“Sorry,” Jaeyun says, breaking the spell. His voice is soft, a mix of embarrassment and strange pride, as he catches your lingering stare. “I’ll get dressed. I just…didn’t know where the clothes were.”
“Oh!” You clear your throat and nod toward the sofa, purposefully keeping your gaze above his shoulders. “Yep, just there. Help yourself. I think they’ll fit.”
As he moves to retrieve the clothes, you busy yourself with literally anything else - studying the ceiling, adjusting the kettle, anything to avoid the moment and stop trying to catch glimpses of his cock.
You don’t hear the rustling of clothes though, instead, you just hear yourself breathing, which piques your interest. Why isn’t he changing?
Subtly, your eyes glance over to him and then you see it, the look on his face as he stares at the clothes. You’ve had that look before too, the one that comes with the mixed feelings of disbelief, shame, sadness, hope, and every other conflicting emotion that arises when you’re down and out.
“Thanks,” he whispers, “For all of this.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” you reply, taking a few small steps forward. But Jaeyun shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the floor.
“No, really,” he insists. “I…I don’t think I’ve met someone as kind as you in a long time.” His voice breaks on the last word, and he quickly looks away, ashamed of the vulnerability slipping through.
He has his friends, they are kind and generous much like yourself, but being kicked out of his own family has also shown him the darkest parts of humanity, the ones that he doesn’t let others know that he’s experienced. Truthfully, he’s just a scared boy who needs his family.
The admission punches through your chest, leaving no room for hesitation. You glide over to him as your arms wrap gently around his shoulders.
If a cuppa can fix most things, a hug can fix them all.
At first, he stiffens, unsure how to respond, but then he relaxes, his head lowering slightly against you.
“It’s okay,” you murmur softly. “You’re going to be okay. Maybe not right now, but soon.”
Jaeyun’s arms tentatively come up to return the embrace, and for a moment, the storm outside fades into irrelevance. His eyes close and for a change, he believes that it will be fine. This moment isn’t going to last forever, once the morning blooms, he’ll be out of your life and trying to get back on his feet, but he’s thankful for the reassurance and hope right now.
Pulling back slightly, his arms still lingering around you. His eyes, uncertain and yearning, flicker between your face and your lips. Then, without a second thought, he leans in and presses his lips to yours - a fleeting, hesitant kiss that seems to catch even him off guard.
His lips retract from yours as he draws back, his face flushed with embarrassment and horror. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. Why the fuck would he kiss you without consent when you’ve been so kind towards him? He thinks. His hand twitches at his side, as though unsure whether to retreat or reach out again. “I didn’t mean to-”
“Would it make you feel better?” you interrupt gently, your voice soft but steady.
His brows furrow, confusion flickering across his features. “What?”
“Would it make you feel better?” you repeat, tilting your head slightly. There’s no judgment in your tone, no hesitation. “To kiss me?”
“Really, no, it’s okay-”
This time, you close the distance, your lips capturing his before he can finish the sentence. It’s slow, deliberate, a kiss that tells him you’re here for him despite still being strangers. His initial surprise melts into something deeper, something warmer, as he responds cautiously at first, then with more certainty.
It actually is making him feel better, the human connection, it’s nature's balm.
So he follows your lead, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you impossibly close as his hands splay over your back, covering most of the surface. The way his plump lips move against yours is magnetic, sucking and pulling you into his world. You’ve been kissed more times than you can count - shamelessly to say - but his mouth feels a little different; a little less icky than the others and a lot more like they’re meant to be on yours.
With that feeling charging your bloodstream, your hands fly up to his damp hair, craving to have him on each of your senses. You can’t get enough of him, his taste of beer from the numerous bottles he downed on the roof, the touch of his silky locks that are in need of a haircut, his scent of your strawberry milk body wash mixing in with his own musk, how he sounds when he growls into your mouth, showcasing that he’s just as desperate as you are for this.
You need him…
Swiftly, your hands trail from his head, down his neck, your nails lightly scratching down his collarbones until you reach the veins just above where you were unabashedly looking not 10 minutes ago.
Jaeyun pushes your ass against the sofa, bucking up into you, hips deliciously working to place your hand on his cock. God, it feels beautiful, even with the fluffy barrier.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans deeply into your mouth, passing the need from himself into you. Your hand grips his covered shaft as you palm him teasingly. “Don’t do this if you don’t want to.”
Honestly, he doesn’t want to say anything that will make this stop, his body pulsing with the desire to have you wrapped around him. But he also believes in consent, and while you both might be horny-induced 22-year-olds, you’re also strangers.
Shaking your head adamantly, you grip his dick harder, smiling at the whimper it draws from him. “I want this, Jaeyun.”
“I suppose, men have been in your bed for a lot less, right?” he chuckles into your mouth. And while it could come across as an insult to some - that he’s essentially throwing back your own slut-shaming dialogue from earlier - you feel no degradation or malice behind his words. You can tell he’s playful, under all the dreary circumstances. He’s a boy who has light and laughter built into his DNA.
Maybe it’s delusion, maybe it’s a soul connection, or maybe it’s the fact that you need to bounce on his cock within the next five minutes or you’ll perish that’s clouding your judgment.
Either one, you let it slide.
So, playfully, you slap his chest and break the kiss. “Keep talking and you won’t get the chance to see my bedroom.”
“That’s okay, I can fuck you here,” he replies quick-witted, suddenly hoisting you up on the back of the couch, the wood and material digging into your ass not uncomfortably.
You laugh and so does he, looking into each other’s eyes, and it all feels so right.
Bringing your hand up to his face, you push his hair off of his forehead and reveal his eyes - the light from your living room dancing in his pupils, much like how they had been on the rooftop, but this time, there is an abundance of happiness that adds to the shine.
“You’re so pretty,” you confess, that no-filter brain coming into full effect once again. Granted, a much better consequence of it.
A faint, rose blush crawls across the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, a bashful grin on his mouth. “Thank you. Personally, I think you’re prettier so…”
“Guess we can be pretty together, huh?”
“Pretty good together you mean?”
Another laugh jumps out of you and you cup both his cheeks, the warmth of them comforting and worth cherishing. You peck his nose. “I should have known a pretty boy like you would be a charmer.”
He shrugs, kissing your nose back, not bothering to rebut. Instead, his hands guide your legs to wrap around him, hands finding your ass, and he lifts you up. You can’t ignore his cock now semi-hard pressing into you as he bounces you into a comfortable position.
Securing yourself, you circle your arms across his shoulders and kiss him once again, letting him lead you down your hallway, anticipation and greed passing through your breaths and tongues.
“Which one?” he pants out, squeezing your ass as he does so.
“This one on the right,” you point half-arsed, too lost in the moment to give it a full thought.
Awkwardly due to your wriggling body, Jaeyun opens the door, trying to view a path to which he can reach your bed without falling over your clutter. Shoes and more lay abandoned over your carpet, creating an obstacle, but one he refuses to lose.
Jaeyun finally reaches your queen-sized bed and gently places you down, his cock pressing into you even more.
It’s only then that he realises that along the way from your living room to your bedroom, his towel has fallen down, leaving his exposed cock rubbing against the fabric of shorts. “Jesus fucking christ.”
You look at him and see the pleasure on his face, biting his lips as his eyebrows knit together, rubbing against you again. It makes you giggle, you don’t know why, but he just brings it out of you.
The sound from your lips draws his attention back. “What?” he breathes out heavily, cock thumping with need as he humps you again.
“Maybe you should be inside of me while you thrust - kinda how this whole sex thing works,” you playfully jab, biting your lips together to stop from laughing. But he laughs for you, resting his forehead on your chest and shaking his head in amusement.
“Shut up, I’m just excited.”
“I can see that, yeah.”
It’s easy with him, you’re noticing, like you’ve somehow been in a relationship for years and you’ve just come home from a couples date with your married friends, two bottles of red wine consumed, and adoration palpable in the air. You have two dogs, maybe three if you can get your way, and you are the annoying pair that people hate to hang out with because your love for one another never dwindled, not even after all those years.
Maybe you shouldn’t be fantasising about a life with this random man you met on a roof, but that’s where your brain immediately goes each time you banter or giggle with one another.
He’s different.
Jaeyun stands up, letting you see his cock as he pumps it gently, getting it to full mass. The fact that it’s standing at 5 inches already and still growing causes an ache in your stomach. Fuck, it’s going to feel so good inside of you, your walls are already leaking out for it, staining your pyjama shorts.
His hands grip your shorts and peel them off, hurriedly throwing them on the floor, only adding to the chaos. Your legs instinctively spread and the juices from your excitement gleam in the moonlight, looking like a ripe fruit just ready to be devoured.
And devoured it will be.
Hoisting you down, Jaeyun positions you at the end of the bed until your ass is almost hanging off, kneeling down between your thighs. Not exactly how you thought the turn of events was going, but you are the furthest from mad at it.
“You look so fucking delicious, Y/N.” Jaeyun’s comment makes you feel exposed but not in a bad way, yet, you still want to hide from him. As your legs try to close, he places his large hands on your thighs, shaking his head. “No, princess, the only way you're shutting your legs right now is if you’re clamping my head between them.”
“Jaeyun…” you whine, both at the petname and his breath ghosting over your hardened clit, making it weep again - much to Jaeyun’s delight.
“I know, princess. You need it, huh?” Jaeyun whispers, kissing up your inner thigh and around the area you crave him most.
The heat in the room is electric, any cold you both felt from the rain now disappeared from your bones and replaced with scorching intensity. Your hips follow the blow of his breath in search of connection but he simply places a chaste kiss on your clit before pulling away, a smirk on his face as he sees you whimper and squeak.
“You make the prettiest noises when you’re desperate, Y/N,” he gloats, though it’s prideful and not arrogant. He means it, and that’s why he keeps teasing you softly, puckering at your folds and giving you just enough to have you humping the air and arching into him.
“I’m never letting you use my shower again,” you laugh in discontentment, your arm flying across your face as you hide in the comfort of your bicep.
Jaeyun huffs a laugh, echoing your own amusement before he speaks. “I know, I’m being so mean considering you’ve been so kind, huh? You’re just so cute when you’re like this.”
“I’m about to become a bitch if you don’t do something,” you warn lightly, peaking down to look at him under your arm.
“Well, I better get to it then right?”
And with that, his thick tongue stripes up your folds, gathering and savouring your wetness. Your back arches off the bed and pushes just enough onto him that his nose catches your clit. “Fuck!” you bellow.
The tip of his tongue searches for your nub, and once it hits the spot and your hands fly to his hair, his lips suction around it, almost making out with it.
He’s not real you think to yourself. You can’t help the jealousy that rises inside of you as your brain works overtime to imagine just how many girls he has had to go down on for him to be this good at eating you out. If there was ever such a thing as a pussy eating contest, you know he would win hands down because he’s already got you chanting his name, punctuated by profanities.
“Right there, Jaeyun…fuck…”
His pride swells and he grows more confident, tongue flicking quickly over your button as he drools over your cunt. It’s safe to say that Jaeyun loves pussy. If he could have it morning, noon, and night, and elevensies, he would without hesitation. Especially yours. The taste of your tang and sweetness is enough to put him in a frenzy, long forgetting about his aching cock and focusing solely on drinking you up.
He humps the air though, as he always does, resembling a dog in heat as he slabbers and grunts into your cunt. He nibbles at your clit and soothes it with his wet muscle, a smile plastered on his face with each movement - your noises urging him on.
He brings his middle and ring finger to your pulsating hole as it clenches around nothing, deciding to give you some more relief. As he plunges in, you scream out in joy, an open-mouthed smile on your face as coherent words get lost in your throat. You clearly don’t get eaten out as often as you deserve, and that just spurs Jaeyun on more to be the best you’ve ever had.
“So wet for me, princess. Taste so fucking good I want to be here for hours.”
And while that sounds nice in theory, you need him inside of you now. His fingers, thick and beautiful, are nice for now, but that 6-inch, throbbing cock is calling your name. So, you pull him away much to your pussy’s weeping plea for him to keep going, his mouth covered in your slick which is perhaps the most beautiful sight you have ever seen - and you’ve seen the Northern Lights on a crisp autumn morning.
His fingers never stop though, just curling inside of you slowly, beckoning your climax still. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern weaving in his tone.
Sitting up on your elbows, you smile and pant, trying to maintain a steady voice while the tip of his fingers presses against your soft spot inside, jaw slacking each time he holds it for a little longer. “I need your cock so back, Jaeyun. I’m so serious.” The words are desperate and real, shamelessly desperate.
“You sure you don’t want to cum right now? I can do it.” It’s not like he can’t make you cum over and over again anyway.
Shaking your head, you sit up, hunching over to cup his face. “Please. I really need you to fuck me.”
A primal desire flickers past Jaeyun’s eyes and a quick nod tells you that he needs it too. His cock jumping for joy at the thought of being enveloped in your tight cunt. So, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, pulling on a show as his tongue weaves through his digits, wide eyes looking up at you with sheer longing. It stirs something inside of you, something that suddenly makes you want to grow a cock and have him choke on it.
But you quickly shake those thoughts, pulling him up by his hair and kissing him deeply. His tongue now tastes of you and you are so glad you love sweet juices and decided that for the past three weeks, cranberry spritz has been your favourite.
Jaeyun makes quick hands of stripping you of your t-shirt, leaving you both naked and clawing at one another.
“You got condoms?” he asks between kisses, trailing down your neck as his hands grip your hips so tightly that the skin turns white.
But you don’t want that. You want to feel him. Raw and unfiltered. Is it stupid? Of course, it is. But some would say letting him inside your home never mind inside your body is already wreckless, so, what’s another reckless abandonment on your list tonight?
“No. No condom, please,” you mumble against his hair as you kiss the top of his head, your conditioner filling your senses.
Jaeyun freezes his mouth and darts up, eyes seeking yours to make sure he heard you right. “Huh?”
“No condom. I’m on the pill,” you stroke his cheek tenderly, “Please, Jaeyun. Do this with me just once, yeah?”
For some reason, that ‘just once’ pangs in the boy’s chest and he hates the feeling more than anything. He doesn’t want this to be once, he wants this to be again, and again, and then some more. Jaeyun isn’t one to believe in fate but considering he chose your flat complex rooftop out of all the others in the city, and it decided to pour down - even though it’s been dry for the past two weeks - which led to you coming to get him and practically drag him into your home; he would say that doesn’t happen by chance.
Although, instead of getting in his head, he agrees, lust overpowering his responsibility to be safe. “I want it too, so fucking badly,” he leans down, rubbing his leaking cock on your slit, mouth moving to your ear. “I can’t wait to cum inside you, fill you up and make you suck me in.”
Does he know where this confidence came from? Perhaps it was the way you whispered into the air his name over and over again how good you felt while he ate your pretty little cunt, or maybe it's the fact that if this is your only time under him, he will damn make sure you’re thinking about him for the rest of your life.
The heels of your feet move with his ass as he gyrates his hips, allowing his cock to snag on your clit and elicit a hiss from both of you. Your lips messily leave open-mouth kisses over any skin that you can reach; his neck, cheek, lips, forehead, all of it, the feeling of his glistening skin on your lips addicting.
“Please, Jaeyun. Fuck me. Right. Now.”
Your pleading snaps him into full throttle, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance, his bell expanding and contracting as he slips inside of you. Your groans of pleasure harmonise in the winter night, both your bodies connecting fully as he bottoms out slowly, balls meeting your ass as he pushes in to the hilt.
“Holy shit,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck, and you lock him in there, fisting his hair and bucking your hips for friction. He fills you up so good you wonder why humans are born empty and not with a permanent cock up their pussy.
You never want him to leave.
“Move, Yunnie, please.” The tone of your voice doesn’t carry much conviction but portrays your desperation for him. The nickname falling off your cock-drunk tongue much to his happiness. If anyone ever calls him Yunnie again, and it overtakes the way you whimper it out, he will commit murder. Only you can call him that, call him whatever you want, call him by his name, ever again.
Obeying your wishes, he begins to pull back his hips and move them painfully slow back into you, feeling each bump of your walls and how they meld perfectly with the veins of his fat cock.
While he loves savouring the moment of you taking him in, feeling how your hole adapts to his girth and length, creating way just for him. “Faster, Yunnie. God, please.”
“Asking God to help get what you want is crazy considering it’s me you should be begging,” he chuckles, never increasing his pace.
“Shut up, please,” you whine out, grabbing his ass and trying to physically move him to speed up.
“You can ask me to shut up but not beg me to move faster?” he tuts, going even slower, “C’mon, princess. Ask me nicely.”
You want to slap him, a dry laugh coming from your throat as you fight between your pride - telling you never to do as a man says - and your need for him to start jackhammering into you.
Well, you suppose you can let your pride have a night off for a chance.
“Jaeyun, please, move faster. I’m begging you. Fuck me faster and harder.”
Those sweet yet filthy words send Jaeyun into orbit, and he grants your prayers. With his hands pushing down your hips, he begins to thrust with ferocity, the tip of his cock not punching into your cervix. It’s much more delicious than you ever could have imagined, the way he snaps into your cunt with no restraint, your pussy taking a beating in the best way possible.
This is heaven.
“Yes, Jaeyun! Yes! Don’t fucking stop, please.”
And stop he does not. In fact, he lifts your legs over his shoulders and folds you in half, the new angle somehow reaching so deep you can feel him poking your stomach. You have never felt this good in your life. A cock has never made your brain turn to mush or made your hands literally peel the skin from your partner’s back before, yet here you are, chanting incoherent words into his ear and clawing up his shoulder blades.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, princess. Taking my cock so well.” Jaeyun breathes into your neck, nipping at your skin and he marks you right back. His praise makes you smile, kissing all over his face in appreciation for the pleasure he is giving you right now. “Such a good girl, Y/N.”
You could cum that minute, and he feels how you clench around him, sucking him in further, making him tip his head back and move even faster. He wants you to cum together, and with how good your pussy feels, he isn’t far from it.
“You sure you want me to cum inside?” he asks again, trying to gauge whether you could have changed your mind. But you grip his hair and stare into his eyes.
“If you don’t, I’ll kick you out back into the rain.”
Jaeyun laughs. Hard. Your threat is meaningless because you clearly would never leave him out there again to drown in the winter hail, but it does get your point across. You don’t just want his cum, you need it. And luckily for you, he is happy to oblige.
So, with your consent, he works on getting you both to the edge, his right hand coming down to your clit and rubbing it in smooth circles, a juxtaposition to his harsh thrusts. And you begin to see stars, constellations, as you arch your back and wriggle under him. The coil in your tummy burns with the insatiable pull.
“I’m cumming! Yunnie, I’m cumming,” you warn, happiness filtering the air as you buck your hips and match the rhythm of his shaft penetrating you. “Cum with me. Please, baby.”
Baby
His balls tighten at the petname and groans loudly. “Call me that again.”
“Baby, cum inside me,” you repeat within a moan, forcing your eyes open to lock onto his. “Cum with me.”
And just like that, with the final clench of your walls around him, he spurts his white seed inside of you, a primal roar escaping his lips as each rope coats your canal. You cum with him, his name falling from your lips over and over again as you chant out in hymn.
“Squeeze it, princess. Take it all like you want.” He validates you without ridicule, a grin of glee etching onto his face as his body shakes with the euphoria he feels. You were right, cumming inside of you is much better than a condom.
After a while, both your hearts begin to slow down and his body collapses onto yours. His lips lazily kiss your sweaty skin on the top of your breast, your fingers threading through his now dry hair, the only wetness coming from persperation. Its intimate, despite the newness of the situation, and you can’t help but plaster a smile on your face.
It feels so right.
And you’re not the only one who believes so.
Jaeyun gathers some strength to lean on his arm, cupping your face as he strokes your cheek. “Can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” His voice is wavering due to exhaustion, but it’s overshadowed by sincerity.
Placing your hand over his, you titter slightly, the sound making Jaeyun’s stomach knot and cock pulse inside you once again. “You mean having sex or staying in my house and abusing my shower privileges?”
“Both.” He murmurs earnestly, pinching your cheek. “I also want you to abuse my shower…when I get one.” The last part of that sentence falters slightly, his voice dipping as if suddenly comping back into his reality.
But you won’t let him dwell in it. Instead, you reach up to kiss him gently, lips expressing the reassurance you worry your words might not. And it seems to do the trick because, in an instant, he’s kissing you back with passion, taking each swipe of your tongue against his as confirmation that you want to have this again and see where it goes.
It could lead to nothing but it could lead to everything.
And he needs to find out.
#enhypen smut#enha smut#jake smut#aj writes#jake x reader#jaeyun smut#jaeyun x reader#enha x reader#enhypen x reader
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I want to start with acknowledging that if you don't like cats, that's okay! This doesn't apply to any of you and you don't have to like everything. :)
I think a lot of this, because I tend to see it with men or 'I'm one of the guys' girls. I think it's all just societal teaching. Think of what is thought as "good": Big dogs. Basically, animal should do things for you (hunting, herding, guarding) or animal is worthless. "But Ary, what about mice?" In their mind, the cat doesn't do enough of that to outweigh the "bad". Girls like cats because girls don't get messy or hunt or any of that so a "worthless" animal suits them better than a hard working man. (Really quick: I don't think people who are in the "I hate cats" camp don't really see it like that, but rather than the societal teaching that has influenced them)
I would think it was just the personality thing (dogs and cats are very different in how they show affection and the like), but how many people are like "small dogs suck" too. They tend to put them in the same categories as above with cats. (Once again, if small dogs aren't your thing/you've had a bad experience but you aren't a jerk about it, not directed at you)
My dad was in this category. "I don't like cats." He married Mom and ended up with a cat. Then more cats as we got older until one day he was standing in the rain calling for one of them in worry because she'd gone missing. (She came back) He was giving fish to another one because he thought she needed more attention. When put in a situation where he was interacting with them, he liked THOSE cats. He might still say he didn't like OTHER cats, but he wasn't near them.
Anyway, I think about this often that men in particular are basically taught NOT to like cats by society and when put in direct contact for a prolonged amount of time, find that they do actually because the best way to eliminate faulty societal teaching is by working through it. (Some people still aren't going to like cats or dogs or birds or etc. And this is fine.)
But what do I know? I want a pet tarantula and millipede so I might not be the best person to listen to on this.
#I've just seen a lot of these recently#And I think we all KNOW it#But I wanted to get my thoughts out of WHY
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐖𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐘 ! ❞
⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. isagi yoichi x reader , bachira meguru x reader , itoshi rin x reader .
⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. the moment he realized that he has the biggest crush on you.
⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~2.2k words . 0.7-0.8k words each.
⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. drabble for each on. fluff. f!reader. spoiler - free ! safe for minors ! crappy writing. isagi, bachira and rin may seem ooc.
ISAGI YOICHI. when he misunderstood something on valentine's day—
HE realizes that he has the biggest crush on you when you walked towards him on valentine's day with a beautiful decorated, red box in your hands. Actually it was like a normal day for him—considering that he didn't receive any chocolate.
Well it's not like he minded anyway. Again, valentine's day was always just like another day in school. Yeah but that was until he saw you at the end of the day in all your glory with chocolate in your hand, a bright smile on your lips.
The sun itself shone down on the school, capturing your beauty just right, reminding him of those typical romance movies you never stop talking about. Nonetheless, was that chocolate in your hand? Is that box... for him?
Did you actually like him? He thought the rumors were fake? You never gave any signs that you were crushing on him so he never gave those rumors much thought. And now it seems like he should've prepared for this day!
Nevermind, he can give you tenfold back on white day. The only thing he should do is remain calm and sort his messed up thoughts. At the end, he couldn't help but flush as you stood infront of him, your hand with the box stretched out for him.
"Ah, [n-name]..!" he stuttered.
"Here, 'chi." you paused for a moment, making his heart beat even faster, "a boy confessed to me and gave me chocolate. But I don't feel like eating them, so I'm giving it to you."
It came crashing down. The colors of his face drained. His soul almost flew out of his body. "You okay?" you questioned, a little concerned about the state your friend was in. "Hey, wanna go to the nurse office real quick?! Don't die, Yoichi!"
"I-It's alright... I'm alright..." he blurted out to less your worries, "sure... I'll take those chocolates..."
Even though he assured you he was fine while accepting the box, you were still concerned about his dire state. But you eventually figured out why he was so shocked after forcing him to spill out what his problem was.
"Pfft— You're so silly!" you laughed your ass off, slapping his back firmly which made him yelp out in pain. Not that it really hurt, he was just being dramatic. You think. "Quit being dramatic."
"Hey, you slapped my back! And it did hurt..."
You still think your slap wasn't that painful after he scooted further away from you. "Stop exaggerating." you deadpanned before standing up from the bench, surprising him slightly by the abrupt movement. "Wait here."
With that, you left. Wow, did you really take your leave after slapping his back? Was he actually exaggerating? His back still hurts though. "Did I really just mess up my chance?" he asked himself, his breath hitched, "is she mad?"
Okay, please tell Isagi Yoichi he did not lose his bestfriend since primary school over something that petty. Well, he did thought you had a crush on him. But he would've accepted! Wait, he would've dated you? His best friend? What.
"Calm down and stop overthinking. She will come back." he muttered under his breath, hiding his face in his hands as he bent forward to support his elbows on top of his knees. "after all, she demanded that I should wait. I'm a bit distressed, that's all."
Maybe he should ask you out instead of the other way around. Yeah, maybe he should shoot his shot. You wouldn't reject him, would you? "Maybe I am delusional." he huffed, the blush slowly crept up to his cheeks.
All of a sudden—he felt something cold against his neck that resulted in him flinching. It was too cold for his liking. "Ah, cold!" he immediately sprang up from the bench as a reflex and took a few steps away.
Only to see you behind the seat with a confused expression.
"[name], stop scaring me! This isn't the first time I told you to quit!"
"What were you mumbling to yourself?" you huffed before throwing him something to his direction.
Isagi didn't had time to react but was fast enough to catch the box you had thrown. "Is that chocolate?" he blinked for a moment, not being able to tear his eyes away from the velvet box. This little box was prettier than the other one.
"Yeah. Thought it might cheer you up." you opened the can of cold soda you brought with you. "It's valentine's day, so a little present from your dearest friend won't hurt."
Taking in the sight infront of him, he felt how his face slightly heated up. "Thanks." was this a confession? Was this the confession he needed to be called delusional now? The box was really pretty. Even though it's bought.
"Make sure to pay back tenfold on white day, yes?" you teased him.
"Of course." he answered.
You were surprised by his beaming smile, not expecting this kind of response. So you returned his smile.
After that day, he saw you in an entirely different light. And you did so too.
After all, you're the funniest and prettiest! You're also the one who talked with him without hesitation on your first day of school even though your friends warned you about his weird behaviour. But you shrugged your shoulders with a playful smile.
BACHIRA MEGURU. when he took in the sincerity in your eyes—
BACHIRA liked you. Not the romantic like-like, rather the plantonic like-like as a friend. But he somehow liked you more than a friend, less than a lover. Something inbetween probably. Again, not that he cares though.
You've been pretty good friends since then, always sitting next to him during most of the classes. And he's also the first one who gets asked by you if you wanna team up for the next school project—warning, he never does one thing to.
The only thing he'd do while you're doing the project is yap, yap and yap. You're doing the whole work. But he does help you if you need opinion or anything else. "Can you hand me the glue?" or "Scissors." or "What do you think? Is the text too small?"
Fast forward—you've grown to be pretty good friends. Silly jokes and banters never came to an end, the laughs were light and pleasant to the ears, shared hugs were warm and cuddly. People assumed you were a couple to be honest.
"Why did the crab cross the road? It didn’t—it used the sidewalk." he mimicked the tongs of a crab, arousing a laugh out of you.
"You're so silly, Meguru!" you laughed.
The jokes would've reminded someone of a dad joke, but for you, it was a first-class joke from the best comedian. Your shoulders slightly shook before you tried to calm yourself down, your aura beamed brightly like his as you smiled.
"Never stop being funny."
"Yes, ma'am!" he grinned, folding his arms on the table, "I had a joke about paper today, but it was tearable!"
One thing Bachira loved was that you shared a humor, laughing at the dumbest jokes together was like a dream for him. "You're so cute!" you squealed, grabbing his surprise soft cheeks. "Your cheeks are the best, man! Ahh!"
Not to mention, whenever you came close, he would notice the twinkle in your eyes—a twinkle that allowed him to believe your unmatched kindness and sincerity were genuine. Genuine for him and him alone.
People do say, eyes are the window of the owner's heart and soul. And Bachira always decided which person had good or bad intentions through their eyes. They were either carrying hatred in them or sincerity like you.
To be frank, he can see a person's heart the clearest through their eyes. And sometimes, when you're talking about things you love, he can't help but stare into your eyes the entire time and admire how they began to shine.
Unfortunately, he's unable to listen what you were saying, making you repeat things very often. Just like right now. "—guru? Meguru, are you zoning out again?" you asked, a little concerned about his attention span.
"What did you say?" he chimed in with a innocent smile, looking like a baby chick that was chirping.
"Ah nevermind!" you huffed, crossing your arms.
It's then when he realized he was being oblivious to his feelings all the time. Did he ever notice how pretty you are up close? Is this what people call crush? If it is, Bachira thinks he fell real deep for you. Like he has he biggest crush on you.
His grin faded for a second staring at your eyes that were filled with worry. "You okay?" you asked, touching his shoulder gently. Wow, he just fell in love with your eyes—they were genuine. Of course. We're talking about you.
"[name]..." he paused to jump on top of you, latching himself onto you, "I love you so much!"
"H-Hey, we're faLING!" you lost your balance.
And yet, he didn't let go.
Rin is also the one who thinks, wow how did she do this? Like, bringing him to the cinema to watch some damn romance movie. He would've rather watched the new horror movie that's out, but you wouldn't quit whining about the new lovey-dovey movie.
ITOSHI RIN. when he caught himself imagining a future with you—
RIN thinks you're delusional. You're always talking about your dream man and then giggle like a highschool girl, ignoring the fact that you currently are a highschool girl. You were a bit— scratch that, you were delusional with those standards.
Sitting next to next each other, his eyes bore itself into the big screen that displayed some tragic scene. What a typical story. What a tragic scene. He cannot sit there anymore, the seat felt itchy and his mind drifted away.
Not long until he'll fall asleep. He can't though, not after hearing a quiet sob from his right. His eyes wandered to the side, only for them to land on your face—covered with tears as you sobbed like always when something sad happend.
You looked like the actress on the movie who also was crying because their love was impossible, forbidden love. "Quit crying like a baby." he whispered to not disturb other people, handing over a handkerchief for you.
"Thanks..." you mumbled and wiped your tears away.
“Wait for me, my lady...”
Rin continued to watch how the knight was giving the lady a handkerchief, his personal one he spent hours one to craft and decorate. "Once we'll see each other again, you can give it back. But I prefer you'd keep it." the knight swept her hair behind her hair.
"Please come back quickly." she plead.
"I will. That's a promise."
Suddenly, he felt someone lightly shaking his shoulder. It was you, giving him back his handkerchief. "Keep it." he paused. Just like in the movie. Did he catch himself locked in because of that movie? "Err..." he trailed off, knitting his eyebrows in confusion.
"Here." seems like you didn't hear it. "Or should I wash it before returning it?"
Quietly, he took back his handkerchief while shaking his head. "It's fine..." he grumbled under his breath, gripping onto the piece of cloth. His cheeks heated up because of the embarrassment he just said. He was not the knight in the movie.
But he secretly wouldn't mind if you're the lady. He also wouldn't mind, seeing you in the crowd of people, cheering his name during a match. He wouldn't mind if you kissed him for every goal he scored. He wouldn't—you infected him.
Did... did Rin just imagined you as a couple? You must have infected him with those thoughts. It's your fault. But he was wondering what kind of wedding dress would suit you perfectly. He could already hear the bells ringing—shit.
He deadpanned before hiding the upper part of his face with his hand. What is he thinking about? He was already imagining you two during your wedding. You would've looked beautiful though—and he said you were delusional!
"Rin, can I get my drink?" your voice snapped him out of your mind, asking for his drink. Why the heck does he have your drink?
"Huh?" he furrowed his eyebrows, giving you a drink—not seeing there was acutally a second drink.
"It's the wrong one... Did you buy sprite?" you returned the drink. "Rin, you gave me your drink."
Shoot.
"Sorry." he apologized, giving you the other one. Shit. Did you share an indirect kiss? He was drinking out of that one earlier! His face heated up because of... embarrassment? He is being lukewarm as fuck.
"Hope you don't mind that I drank out of your cup..." you whispered.
"I don't." he answered without hesitation.
The only thing he minds is that he caught himself slacking. "I'm going to the bathroom." he excused himself, standing up and quickly made his way out of here as you watched him in concern. Since when was the cinema so hot?
No Rin. You just realized that you had the biggest crush on [name].
"Did I do something wrong?" you muttered before returning to the movie. "Nevermind, it's an Itoshi we're talking about. He can deal with it."
At the end of all Rin knew—your love wouldn't be impossible.
© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !
a/n's — frame lock here I come !!!
#❨🎐❩ 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀 :: shitpost.#bllk#blue lock#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#isagi yoichi x reader#isagi yoichi#isagi x reader#bachira meguru x reader#bachira meguru#bachira x reader#itoshi rin x reader#rin x reader#itoshi rin#rin itoshi#rin itoshi x reader
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Oh, I really, really like your recent blurb! Jason having a secret girlfriend/family is my favorite trope, but it is so hard to find!
Would you write about silly instances where Jason spots his family in public and tries to shuffle and guide you away without you noticing?
Ahh! I feel that validated in both my love of Jason and my love of the secret relationship trope! (This might not be exactly what you were looking for, but I hope you like it anyway!)
The first time it happened was a few weeks into your relationship, back When the two of you would meet for breakfast or brunch at the little cafe, a few blocks away from where you worked.
Jason Todd would always show up, yawning and exhausted from how tired he always was since he hadn't told you about his night job yet. But he was still on time, excited to see you even if he would go straight home and nap immediately afterwards.
The two of you would always spend more time talking getting to know one another than actually looking over the menu and ordering something to eat, but neither of you minded.
Then, one day, while he was looking away from you to hide the smile you had caused, he caught sight of Tim waiting in line to order a coffee.
Without really thinking about it, he grabbed both of your menus, propping them up and leaning over the table, trying to hide both your faces.
You frowned in confusion but leaned in too, until your faces were close together. "What are you doing?" You whispered.
"Nothing," he lied poorly, being his head over the top of a menu to see if his brother was still there and darting his head back down when Tim walked past the table. He let out a breath of relief, staring at you. "You look really pretty this close."
With an amused eye roll you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms and waiting for a better explanation. "You just wanted to talk really close for a moment?"
"Okay, fine," he sighed heavily. "I wanted to look at your freckles, alright? They're adorable. The ones on your nose are really cute."
It wasn't a lie, technically. He did love them. And you actually believed him, he thought. Or if you didn't, you didn't push the topic.
The next time you accidentally ran into somebody was at the mall, when you had dragged Jason along to help you look for a dress for a mystery date night he said nothing about, except for the fact that you had to wear something nice.
It was just his luck that you had picked the same store Stephanie happened to be shopping in as well. In most circumstances, she might not even notice him when they crossed paths in public, but in a woman's clothing store which was relatively empty, there was no way she wouldn't see him when she turned around.
Without warning, he tugged you away from rack you were looking at, pulling you into a cramped dressing room, locking it behind you.
"Wha-" You stared at him like he had lost his mind. "Why are we the dressing room?"
"How do women try stuff on when they can't turn around?" He countered, ignoring your question and planting his hand on the wall by your head to try to give himself more room in the tight space.
"It's typically not made for two people," you explained "Especially not 6'2 men."
He grinned a bit. "Do you like my height?" He asked, enjoying the proximity a bit more than he would admit.
Yes. Obviously. Who wouldn't? He towered over you. His arms could wrap around your entire body without even straining to cover more skin. Plus, he could reach the top shelf so you didn't have to climb on a chair.
But it was still too early in the relationship to tell him that.
"That's besides the point," you muttered. " Why are we in the dressing room?" You repeated.
"I just...always wanted to see a woman's dressing room," he told you, frowning at his own lie.
"Seriously?" You questioned. "You could have at least picked the big one at the end. And you didn't even let me pick anything to try on."
"Right, well..I figured we could try a different store," Jason explained, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "Nothing here would do you justice."
You huffed, finding it slightly amusing how foolish he was acting. But frankly, it wasn't terribly bad to be stuck in a tight space with him. So, you waited a moment longer before unlocking the stall.
You still had to find a dress.
Things were peaceful for a bit, you and Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more serious. Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more intense.
He knew that eventually he'd have to tell his family about you, but the next time he saw one of his brothers in public, he couldn't help but shy away from the task of introducing you.
In his defense, Damian really wasn't the first sibling you would want to meet.
He'd taken you to a nature preserve, because you said you used to go all the time as a kid but stopped after getting older.
You were practically giddy, feeding the animals from your palm, scrunching your nose when their whiskers ticked you. Jason was enjoying it too, more so because of you than the animals.
But while he was mocking you for your squeals, he heard a familiar voice having a one sided conversation with a lemur.
He turned and there was Damian, having his biweekly visit to see the animals that Father wouldn't let him bring home.
Jason cursed internally, pulling you away from the animals, accidentally spilling the feed from your hand.
"Hey, I stillwanted to see the—"
"I'll bring you back, I promise," he said, cutting you off as he dragged you behind a tree.
You wiped off your hand on your jeans and tilted your head. "What is it?"
"I just think you've been giving the animals too much attention," Jason noted. "I feel left out."
"Oh, c'mon," you rolled your eyes.
"Really," he insisted. "You kissed a sloth and a goat but not me."
He pouted a bit and leaned back against the tree, still holding you arm, though loosening his grip before running his hand up and down your arm apologetically.
You sighed, glancing around briefly, not really taking notice of the small, angry child, yelling at some poor worker, before leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his lips very quickly. "Satisfied?"
He smiled softly. "No." He shook his head, pointing to the exit. "Can we leave?" He asked gently.
"Will you bring me back?"
Jason nodded immediately. "Whenever you want," he said.
You gave up and left with him.
Now, if you really thought about it, you could easily put two and two together, but really, the instances were so far apart that you didn't really question the strange behavior.
He had managed to be, for the most part, pretty subtle about pulling you away from his family whenever he encountered them, as few and far between as those moments were.
Like the time you were walking down the street while it was raining and he spotted Duke crossing the street towards your direction. Even though he knew you loved the rain and hated umbrellas, he still pulled his jacket off, covering your head.
"Jay, I told you, I'm fine," you assured him, trying to move it off of you.
"Yeah, but you'll catch a cold," he insisted, pulling even further over your head while blatantly stealing an umbrella from a small stand that was selling them.
He popped it open, covering his own face as you walked past Duke.
"I will not," you told him, finally tugging it off. You frowned, not feeling any rain on your skin. "Where the hell did the umbrella come from?"
"Uh- someone handed it to me," Jason muttered. "Nice man."
And even though he despised running into people he knew because it always put him on high alert, trying to figure out what to do or where to go to keep whoever they ran into from spotting them, sometimes, he actually rather enjoyed the chance to pull you away from the rest of the world.
For instance, when you insisted on going to a carnival, which he wasn't a big fan of at first, until you guys got there and he saw your eyes twinkling at all the lights.
Any thoughts of boredom were quickly drowned out by the sound of your screams on the scarier rides, when you'd reach for his hand. And he bought every single treat you so much as looked at— the funnel cakes, the fresh lemonade, the Carmel corn.
He was watching you pull fresh cotton candy from the stick it was spun around when out of the corner of his eye he caught his brother Dick, along with Wally walking across the fair grounds.
Jason was sure they wouldn't notice you with how far away they were, but he refused to take the chance. So, he interlocked your hands, tugging you into a nearby photo booth as you made a sound of confusion.
"Just thought we should grab a souvenir," he said, beating you to the punch before you could ask what he was doing.
"I'm still eating my cotton candy," You told him. "I should fix my hair too."
Jason got a devilish glint in his eye and ran his hand through your hair jostling it further as you screeched in disbelief. "I think it looks good like that," he admitted, staring at you now that it had a bit more volume.
You blew a loose strand from your face. "I can't believe you did that," you stated. "It's all disheveled."
He nodded, still thinking it looked beautiful. Sort of like how it was when you woke up next to him.
"C'mon," he urged, pulling you into his lap. "I like you this way." He threw a few quarters in the slot and before you knew it you had a strip of three pictures, none of which were appropriate to show to anyone.
A picture of him stealing your cotton candy, a picture of him nuzzling your neck while you scrunched your nose in the way that made his heart clench, and a picture of him tasting said cotton candy on your tongue.
So, maybe it was an over reaction to pull you away from the rest of his carnival when it was huge and chances were Dick never would have even seen you. But God, did he enjoy it.
Then, there were, of course, the far less subtle times which didn't end quite as well.
Like when you just so happened to be walking out of a movie at the same time Cassandra and Barbara were heading into one.
"I think the sequel might actually be better than the original," you told him, arms interlinked as you walked.
"Uh huh," he wasn't paying attention anymore after seeing his sister and Babs at the soda machine, filling up their drinks.
He couldn't exactly pull you into a different theater, especially since he didn't know which one they would be going into.
The next best option? Throwing the empty popcorn bucket over your head.
"Jay?!" You exclaimed.
"It's a discount thing," he muttered vaguely, grimacing at his own excuse. "Wear the bucket out and you get a free movie."
Okay, not the next best, probably. Maybe like...sixth best? Seventh at most.
He pulled you past them, keeping his hand on the top of the bucket to keep it in place while raising his hoodie and keeping on the 3D glasses from the movie until you were past them both.
Once you were, he pulled it off and you were...well, fuming. Rightfully so.
"What the hell was that?" You asked, a bit bitterly, not buying his excuse for a second. "I'm covered in popcorn butter.
He cleared his throat, kissing your greasy cheek and licking his lips tasting a salty popcorn and butter on your skin. "Tastes good, though," he mumbled.
You stormed out on him.
And then, when you chose to walk all the way back to your apartment in frustration, both with his actions and lies, he finally came clean.
"I just... don't want my family to mess anything up between us," he confessed, barely even looking at you.
Vulnerability wasn't his strongest asset, but he was trying. For you.
You washed your face off in the sink for the third time and still felt greasy. Even if you got it all off your face, you'd need a shower to get it out of your hair.
"Why couldn't you just tell me that?" You asked, still confused. It wasn't like you didn't already know who his family was.
"I just- I didn't want you to think I was hiding you," he muttered.
"Jason, you put a bowl of popcorn over my head so your sister wouldn't see me. That's hiding," you stated firmly.
"Yes but it's not hiding out of embarrassment!" He clarified. "My family can be a lot to handle and they might scare you off and they'd definitely mock me endlessly for being in love with you."
His eyes went wide. That...was an accident. He didn't mean to confess that.
You stared at him for a moment, blinking. "Did you just say what I think you did?"
"I uh- well that wasn't..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah," he finally agreed with a slight nod. "But you don't have to say it back or anything, I know I'm not the easiest person to love and it—"
You were already kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He was caught off guard, but it didn't take him long before he kissed you back, his hands finding your waist and steadying you both.
"You're stupidly easy to love," you told him, resting your forehead on his.
(+Bonus)
It was a quiet Friday night when the two of you were at a nice restaurant, celebrating a year of being together. The food was good, the music was soft and nice, and Jason was practically a drooling mess over you, like usual.
So much so, he didn't even notice when his father walked into the restaurant with a date of his own.
You did, though. And in keeping with the spirit of what had apparently been a pretty large part of your relationship, even without you knowing it, you slid out of the booth quickly grabbing his hand and pulling him from his chair.
"Hey, wait a second!" He exclaimed as you rushed him out of the restaurant before he got to finish his dessert. "We still have to pay."
"We'll come back tomorrow and pay," you assured him, pushing open the door, into the cold evening.
"What the hell was that about?" Jason asked once you were outside and seemingly slowed down.
You pointed towards the window. "Your dad," you muttered.
He could see Bruce sitting at a table across from Selina, his eyes scanning a menu while occasionally looking up, probably to compliment her or something.
He huffed. "Add that restaurant to the list of places we can't go," he mumbled, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. "It got cold outside," he simply said when you frowned in confusion.
You pulled on the nice jacket that matched his suit. "Thanks," you said, wrapping your arm around his, tugging him away from the restaurant. "C'mon, I'll buy some more dessert."
He hummed, and pressed a kiss against your head. "Alright," he agreed, letting you lead him away from the restaurant and down the street.
#x reader#headcanon#jason todd#jason todd imagine#jason todd x reader#batboys#jason todd x you#dc comics
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la vita è bella - s.r
in which; sunshine!bau!reader and season2!spencer see a foreign film together after work.
content: fem!reader and season2!spencer, they’re so in loveee, fluffy fluff, mentions of drinking but no one actually does it, brief mention of spencer’s germaphobia, mention of the holocaust and ww2.
a/n: i wrote this all in one go bc my draft that i’m working on is so not ready, so i apologise if it’s bad. also, la vita é bella means life is beautiful, the Italian name of the film, which is why i called the fic that. WAIT I JUST READ IT AND I NEED TO SAY I DON’T THINK ELLE IS MEAN I LOVE ELLE! anyway, kisses!!
After a pretty rare, uneventful day at the BAU - just hours of paperwork, filing, reports, and a lot of team banter - the team of profilers begin to pack up. Coats are lifted from the backs of chairs, bags slung over shoulders, chairs put under desks, and a chorus of contented sighs coming from the agents.
The team, bar Hotch and Gideon, begin to make their way to the elevator together, walking in a huddle on their way out of work while making light conversation about their plans, considering everyone’s getting out early today.
“I say we all go the bar, a few drinks, maybe some darts, and lots of fine women,” Morgan suggests with a smirk, patting Spencer on the back when he says ‘fine women’.
Elle and JJ laugh, the thought of Spencer trying to talk to ‘fine women’, as Morgan called them, an amusing thought to the two of them.
Spencer, who’s walking in between you and Morgan, pushes his glasses up his nose with his index finger, his face sporting one of his infamous looks you’ve come to know, his brows furrowed as he silently questions Elle and JJ’s laughter.
“Actually, I was going to go and see a foreign film downtown, if any of you want to come. It’s an Italian film, but I can whisper translate, called ‘Life is Beautiful’, which is kind of ironic because it’s about a Jewish man and his son becoming victims of the holocaust, but-“ Spencer’s cut off by a comment from Elle about him being ‘dorky’, his face loses the small smile he’d had while talking about the film, and his once gesturing hands fall to his sides.
You think your heart might’ve actually shattered at the sight, Spencer’s dejected look never becoming easier to see, no matter how many times you do see it. The other three agents agree to go to the bar together while you and Spencer remain silent, walking in step with each other.
“You coming, sunshine?” Morgan asks, looking past Spencer to gaze at your face, Elle and JJ turning their heads slightly to look at you stood behind them, all of you coming to a stop at the elevator doors.
“No, I think I just want to have a quiet night in. I hope you guys have fun, though,” you reject them, a small smile on your face because only you know what you’re actually going to do.
── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
All of you step out of the FBI building, JJ, Morgan, and Elle splitting off to head to the bar, Spencer walking through the parking lot and starting his journey to the metro station, while you wait for the other 3 to be gone.
It’s not because you’re embarrassed of Spencer, no, you wouldn’t have cared about offering in front of the others, but you knew he’d probably be teased for it, and that’s the last thing you want. He’s so sweet to everyone, unbelievably kind to you, but everyone teases him regardless. It hurts your heart every time he goes quiet after being told to ‘shut up’ or someone comments on his rambling.
Once you’re sure Morgan, JJ, nor Elle are in earshot, you hurry over to Spencer’s slender figure that’s slowly dissipating, emerging with the dark night sky, becoming nothing but a shadow as he gets further.
“Spence! Wait, come back!” You call out, quickly realising his long limbs are no match for you and he was getting further by the second.
Spencer stops almost immediately, spinning on his heels when he hears your voice. He could recognise it anywhere, your sweet, melodic voice engrained into his brain; it’s one of his favourite things about you, how each word you speak seems to be infused with honey, ringing out sweet and soft.
Although, even if your voice is sweet and soft, despite the fact that you’re shouting, adrenaline spikes in his body - Why are you shouting him? Are you hurt? Are you okay? - the questions plague his mind, increasing his heart rate faster than anything ever has before. That’s saying something, considering he sees dead bodies, crime scenes, and confronts serial killers almost weekly.
Spencer’s legs have carried himself over to you before he’d even processed it, his own mind had distracted him, thoughts had clouded his head, and he only realises he’s stood in front of you and that you’re okay when he hears your melodic voice again.
“Spence? Spencer? Are you okay?” You ask, brows furrowed ever so slightly and pink lips pouted to express your concern for the brunette boy.
You didn’t ask him to ‘snap out of it’, make a joke about him being stuck in his big brain, or say ‘are you even listening?’. No, you just asked if he was okay. Spencer smiles softly at that, another gentle reminder that you really are an angel personified, despite his agnostic beliefs, regardless of whether he prays to a God or not, you are angelic to him.
“Yeah, yes, I’m okay,” Spencer reassures you, the soft smile on his face still there as he looks down at you. His brain catches up after he stops being dazed by your seemingly divine presence, in his opinion.
“You called me over, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s okay. Could I come and see that movie with you? I know some Italian and you said you’d whisper translate.”
Standing in the middle of Quantico’s parking lot, the pair of you clad in thick coats due to the recent spike in cold weather, your head tilted back so that you can look up at Spencer and his tilted down so that he can see you. You watch Spencer’s face go from a small smile to a full blown grin, his teeth peaking out from behind his pink lips making your heart warm in your chest, winter weather aside.
“Yeah? You’re serious?” Spencer asks, you nod.
“I’ll drive us there, no need for the metro. I’ll take you home, too,” you say, dangling your keys on your ring finger. The pair of you begin to walk to your car as Spencer explains what the movie is about, not being cut off this time.
In the car on the way there, he starts to talk about WW2, rattling off all of the details he knows about it, mainly ones he thinks will be relevant for context to the film. Smiles rest on both of your faces as he does so, his hands moving frenetically as he talks. When you know what he’s talking about, you’ll wait for him to finish before talking yourself, but mostly, you just listen to him.
Spencer stays true to his word and whisper translates the film to you, his voice in your ear something you like much more than you probably should, close proximity between the two of you because of it. His head is tilted towards you, lips by your ear but not so close that all you hear is his breath, Spencer’s very mindful of that.
At some point, you both reach for the popcorn between you without looking, his hand coming to rest on top of yours in the bucket. Suddenly, you’re very thankful for the dark room hiding the pink tint of your cheeks, completely unaware that he’s thinking the same thing.
Retracting his hand from the bucket quickly, he whispers a small “sorry,” secretly hating the loss of contact with your smooth, silky skin, warm fingers, no longer under his.
“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, eyes never leaving the screen in front of you for fear of him seeing the blush that’s painted your cheeks. You reach into your bag and hand him a hand sanitiser, knowing how he is with germs.
Spencer can’t help but wonder if you carry this just for him as he takes the clear bottle from his hands, reading the label as best as he can in the dim theatre and learning the hand sanitiser smells like vanilla. So do you, he notes, and he decides he doesn’t mind his hands smelling like you, in fact, he actually quite likes it.
An hour into the film, despite your best efforts not to, you succumb to sleep, the sound of Spencer’s voice in your ear every few seconds, the dim room, and how warm you are all lulling you into the unconscious state you currently find yourself in. Well, Spencer finds you in that state when your head drops to his shoulder, looking down at you through his glasses, and realising you’d fallen asleep.
He blushes at the sight of your head on his shoulder, the weight of it grounding him and sending him to some extreme height at the same time, your hair splayed over his shoulder making him smile to himself. In this moment, he decides that, despite all of the horrors he sees daily, the trauma he was subjected to growing up, and everything else in between, life is beautiful.
#criminal minds#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#glasses spencer reid#season 2 spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x sunshine reader#cm#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid and you#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x bau!reader#bau#fbi#fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid au#sunshine reader#spencer#cinema#theatres#spencer reif fluff#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid comfort#spencer reid cm
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A Knight second chance 10
Jaune: *in a reclining chair* ...
Glynda: *patiently waiting for her student to open up* ...
Jaune: *Sigh* Professor Goodwitch, i honestly don't know what to talk about with you. You can ask my family about my past all you want. I think i'm fine.
Glynda: Someone who is "fine" doesn't almost destroy someone's mind with memories, Jaune.
Jaune: *rolling his eyes, while internally cringing to what he is about to say* She's a simple robot, Miss Goodwitch. I highly doubt she was made with the expectations of getting flooded with memories, feelings and sensation.
Glynda: Jaune, i can see your own disgust at what you just said. *Sigh* You don't see her as a machine. You stayed with her, awake, for two days straight so you could "fix" her. *Shaking her head* People don't act like that for a "simple robot".
Jaune: Tsk, fine. But still, my points stands: She never experienced human sensation, only an approximation. And she never experienced anything bad. The worst she lived through was boredom.
Glynda: *clearing her throat* You told Specialist Schnee that Penny lived through your biggest traumas. Something that shook her so much, she changed her demeanor completely. She lost most of her wanderlust and innocence, from what Specialist Schnee said.
Jaune: Well-
Glynda: *sigh* Jaune, i-
Jaune: *cutting her* Tell me, what is your favorite fairy tale?
Glynda: *surprised* What?
Jaune: *sigh* Mine was the girl who fell through the world. *Chuckle* I loved the characters, the settings, everything... *Looking at the shelves covered in books inside of Glynda's office* It was a nice story.
Glynda: *frown* Was?
Jaune: *scoff* Well, it doesn't tell the truth. *Shaking his head* There is no knight in rusted armor, saving the day on time, there is no cat giving you advice to go on in life and there is no tree that can help you become a better version of yourself.
Glynda: *sigh* Jaune, it's a children's book-
Jaune: ... *Mumbling* And yet, you believe those one...
Glynda: *frown* Excuse me?
Jaune: *sigh* Nothing.
_ Later _
Pyrrha: So, how was your session with professor Goodwitch?
Jaune: *sigh* As good as it will be for the foreseeable future... *Looking around* By the way, where is team RWBY?
Pyrrha: *shrug* Haven't seen them since yesterday-
Team RWBY, entering the cafeteria with nice silk scarf and a confused look upon their face
Nora: *waved at them* Hey, where were you all?
Weiss: *sigh* Blake heard there was a White Fang rally near the industrial district. She thought it was suspicious but... *Look at Blake*
Blake: *Blushing* How was i supposed to know!?
Russel: *from another table* Hey, those are the scarves my girlfriends make!
Ruby: *waving at him* She was super nice too! She said she would come visit you with a new shirt design!
Russel: Thanks for the heads up!
Yang: So anyway, turns out it was a charity event made by EX members of the White Fang, those who were part of it before they turned into a terrorist organization.
Nora: Oh~
Ruby: *giving them scarves* Weiss bought enough for our class... Twice.
Weiss: They are of the highest quality and the price they asked for was ridiculously small!
#jaune arc#glynda goodwitch#pyrrha nikos#nora valkyrie#yang xiao long#blake belladonna#weiss schnee#ruby rose#russel thrush#rwby#rwby au#a knight second chance
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A STRANGER
pairing : fred weasley x fem!reader
genre : angsty-fluff
summary : once inseparable, you and fred drifted apart after a misunderstanding, leaving him watching you from afar as you became the center of attention. at a gryffindor party, drunk and overwhelmed, he confessed years of pain, believing he no longer mattered to you.
it had been years since you and fred had spoken to each other. back when you were kids, you two were inseparable, always laughing and causing trouble together. but one day, something changed. it was a misunderstanding, something so trivial you couldn’t even remember the details anymore, but it was enough to put a wall between you. and over time, that wall grew taller. so, you became strangers, walking past each other in the halls of hogwarts like nothing had ever happened.
now, in your fifth year, you were practically the most popular person in gryffindor. everyone knew you, wanted to be around you. your charm, your wit, your laugh. it had all drawn people in, and you didn’t even realize how much fred had been watching you. he was trying so hard to ignore the growing feelings that had taken root inside him, but it was impossible. he would see you at dinner, surrounded by your friends, laughing, and it would hit him like a ton of bricks.
he never wanted to admit it, but he missed you. he missed the days when it was just the two of you, no expectations, no people trying to get your attention. just you and him, goofing off and making up jokes that no one else understood.
but now, fred found himself watching you from afar. he couldn’t just walk up to you and act like everything was fine. no, it wasn’t that simple. you were so popular, and he was just fred weasley, the prankster, the one who’d been left behind in your past. he couldn’t bear the thought of being rejected again.
so, he tried everything. he tried being funny, tried catching your attention with little tricks and pranks, but every time, you either didn’t notice or just brushed him off. it was so hard. he could see the way you smiled at other people, but when he tried to talk to you, you just treated him like a stranger. it was like he didn’t even exist to you.
that night, however, was different. it was the gryffindor party, and fred had had a little too much to drink. his thoughts were clouded, and the alcohol gave him a courage he didn’t want but desperately needed. he saw you across the room, laughing with your friends, and he couldn’t take it anymore.
“oi, y/n!” fred called out, stumbling slightly as he made his way over to you. you looked up, a little surprised to see him standing there, his face flushed and his expression unreadable. “can we talk?”
you raised an eyebrow but nodded, motioning for him to follow you to a quieter corner of the common room. you’d never really spoken to him much since you’d grown distant, it felt odd.
“what’s up, fred?” you asked, your voice polite but distant. fred ran a hand through his hair, looking down at his feet for a moment before finally meeting your eyes.
“do you even remember me?” he blurted out, his voice sharp and uneven. the question caught you off guard, and you blinked in confusion.
“huh?”
“do you even remember me, y/n? because i remember you. i remember every stupid thing about you. how you hate licorice wands but eat them anyway if you’re stressed. how you used to laugh at all my bad jokes even when no one else did.” his voice cracked, and he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “but you? you don’t even look at me anymore.
your throat tightened, and you opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off.
“do you know how much it hurts? to go from being your best mate to this? a stranger you can’t even bother to say hi to. i’ve spent years trying to figure out what i did wrong, why you stopped caring. but maybe the truth is you just outgrew me.” his voice dropped to a whisper, and his eyes, usually so full of mischief, looked so tired.
“fred, i..”
“no, it’s fine,” he interrupted, his tone laced with bitterness. “you don’t owe me anything. i just… i needed to get it out, you know? because i can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt. seeing you, knowing i’ll never mean anything to you again. it’s killing me.”
you stared at him, the weight of his words crashing down on you. for the first time in years, you saw fred. really saw him. not the jokester, not the prankster, but the boy who used to mean the world to you, the boy you’d let slip away.
fred gave you a forced smile, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “it’s okay, y/n. you don’t have to say anything. i just.. i needed you to know.”
before you could stop him, he turned to leave. but something in you snapped, and you grabbed his arm, pulling him back. he turned, startled, just as you leaned in and kissed him.
it wasn’t rushed or desperate. it was soft, careful, filled with everything you hadn’t been able to say. fred froze for a moment before his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. when you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his breath was shaky.
“you idiot,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “you never stopped meaning everything to me.”
fred let out a shaky laugh, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “well, that’s good to know. because you’ve always meant everything to me too.”
#harry potter#harry potter fluff#xreader#hp x you#hp fanfic#hp x reader#fluff#hp imagine#gryffindor boys#gryffindor#fred weasley x you#fred weasley fluff#fred weasly x reader#fred weasley x reader#fred x reader#fred weasley imagine#fred gideon weasley#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley#fred#fred weasely x y/n#fred wealsey fic#fred weasley angst
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wet and messy and/or intercrural for nortrell if it pleases u 🙏🏻😊 (kink prompts)
ty anon, this one was a fun one to kick off with!!!
warnings for some kind of gender thoughts that max hasn't totally worked out in his own head in this one!!!
for the kink generator ask game
****
“You’re not doing me up the arse again,” Max warns, when Lando’s hands start to wander the night he gets to Monaco. “So don’t get any funny ideas.”
Lando groans, and not the good kind, against his neck.
“But why?”
He hadn’t hated it, exactly. It’d just been a bit weird, arsehole out on the bed, feeling cold and then too warm, and then cold again. Max’d felt it for days, sitting weirdly in his sim rig and wondering if that was just his life now, if he’d had his insides altered permanently by Lando and his massive fuck off horse cock. It made him angry, that his body wasn’t made for it, not the way he’d like it to be.
“‘Cos,” Max argues, unconvincingly, but a little flick of his fingernail under Lando’s foreskin and he’s rendered the idiot unable to fight back. Typical. “It’s late Bob, I can’t be arsed with the fingering. I’ll give you a blowie instead, alright?”
Lando sighs, flopping back against the pillows. He lifts his hips up expectantly, and Max rolls his eyes at the same time as he fits his palm around his dick, stroking him slowly as they continue the negotiation. Lando’s got it in his head that once he’s started, he needs to be touched at all times, else it’ll go floppy.
When he told him, Max had to ask if that had actually really happened ever, and Lando went eight different shades of the pink-purple spectrum in ten seconds and blurted out the word once before he buried his face in the mattress and told Max to fuck off, he didn’t want to have sex anyway.
Max hasn’t asked again after that.
“Rub off between your thighs?” Lando counters, to Max’s very nice offer to suck his dick. “S’more like a hole.”
“What, than my actual mouth hole?”
Lando rolls his eyes and lands his hand on Max’s thigh, stroking through the downy hairs. Despite his protestations, Max can feel himself get going, his dick starting to twitch to life properly.
“Oh fine,” he relents, rolling onto his back and bringing his legs up a bit, his dick flapping against his stomach. “Whatever makes you fucking happy.”
Lando’s messy with the lube, pumping it vigorously onto himself and the backs of Max’s thighs, working his huge paw through the gap Max has left for him to fuck himself happy on. If he’s honest, Max could probably fall asleep like this, head resting on Lando’s expensive feather pillows, if it weren’t for the way Lando has to narrate everything.
“So fit, Max. D’you know it’s fucking sick you let me do this? I love your legs, and your moles, and so on.”
Max snorts, shifting a bit when Lando slides his dick in for the first time. There’s lube dripping down the backs of his thighs, coating his arse, like it’s dripping out of him. He tries to control himself, the urge to touch where Lando is pressed.
“Mm, yeah, potential skin cancer, talk about attractive,” he jokes, trying to distract himself.
Lando leans down and fits his mouth over Max’s knee, dragging his teeth along the graze he’s still healing from an unfortunate incident filming for Quadrant over in Sweden.
They’re not allowed to talk about it. Death, or danger, or any of that sort of stuff. Morbid humour is strictly for within the four walls of Tarkov, and the dark, gloomy series Lando likes them to watch on Netflix.
Max relents, reaching a hand between his legs to alter Lando’s angle so every thrust hits against the underside of his dick, brushes his balls. It feels good like that, like the warm and spongy parts are doing what they should.
“Like that, alright?”
Lando smiles, kissing over where he’s been biting, holding on for dear life as he starts to thrust properly.
“Does it feel good?”
Max sighs, closes his eyes. It always makes him feel a bit funny, how much Lando wants it to be good for both of them. It’d almost be easier if he didn’t care, wasn’t watching Max to make sure he’s satisfying him, wasn’t hell bent on making him his fucking wife, on top of the sex and the banter and the good chat.
He reaches out and takes Lando’s hand, threading their fingers together over his knee.
“Yeah, mate. It does.”
He jerks himself lazily, knuckles knocking against the head of Lando’s dick as it pokes obscenely through his thighs. Max thinks it looks a bit stupid. Would be hot with a girl, all smooth skin and cunt out, but his thighs just look messy, hair plastered down and sticky with it.
It only gets worse when he comes, striping his stomach, getting it in the smattering of hair on his chest. Lando’s reaction is immediate, reaching over to scrape his hand through the puddle, smearing it down Max until he can coat his dick in it, adding to the mess between his legs.
“Bob, for fuck’s sake,” Max is less forgiving now he’s come, and the fun’s over entirely. “It’s like a bog down there now.”
“S’good,” Lando says, voice dreamy, biting his lip into his mouth in a way that makes Max’s traitorous arsehole clench, fuck’s sake. “You’re so wet.”
“What,” Max laughs, nervous. “Like a girl?”
Lando nods furiously, as Max squeezes a bit tighter, using all the strength in his legs to make the hole as tight as possible.
It’s enough for Lando to come, striping Max’s chest, his neck, his face.
“Yeah, bit like a girl, fuck.” Lando slumps forward. “That was so hot.”
Max closes his eyes, squeezing at the stranglehold of Lando’s fingers on his knee, and swallows it all down, deep, where he doesn’t touch.
“Next time,” he says quietly. “You can do it up the arse.”
#my fic#nortrell#fic meme#OH to spend a friday afternoon evening and hopefully a good chunk of the weekend writing little kinky (sometimes not so) fun!!!!#still accepting prompts if anyone hasn't and would like to 🙏
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(𐙚⋆.˚) ghost of you
🕸🕷✮⋆ [taeyong x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 1.8k w. death, mention of drunk driving, grief, alcohol consumption, lmk if you find any more! angst ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
hey siri! play "ghost of you" by the 5 seconds of summer
january 27th, 2025 - 6:48pm
hey baby, i've been trying to reach you but i'm guessing you fell asleep... anyways, i have to go now, but i'll call you tomorrow, same time as always… i love you and i miss you more than i could even express. you’re my everything, remember that always… i’ll talk to you soon, okay? i'm dying to hear your voice… i love you so much, rest well my love.
january 28th, 2025 - 7:02am
yn? please answer me… your mom just called and i- this is some type of sick joke, isn't it? i refuse to believe it, i know you're just asleep, you’ll call me tomorrow, right? please, i just… i need to hear your voice again, i need to know you’re safe. i love you, baby, please be okay, please, please be okay.
january 29th, 2025 - 6:37pm
doyoung called me yesterday. uhm, when the phone rang i thought it was you for a second, i even saw your name on the screen… i guess not sleeping does that to a person. he told me he went to see your mom at your house and that he didn’t want to believe it either… we all love you so much, you know, and we miss you even though you’re barely gone... i’m going to my superipr’s office today, i need to go home to see you one last time… i love you, you’re forever my everything and i hope you know that.
january 30th, 2025 - 6:34pm
hey, baby. i got back home last night… everything is just the way you left it. i can still feel you here, i couldn’t even move to your side of the bed. there's a half drunk coffee cup on the table, it has your lipstick on it still… am i wrong for not wanting to wash it yet? i know it’s a little disgusting, but i can't get rid of it, not yet at least… anyways, i’m going to your brother’s house today to check up on him, your mom says he wont talk to anyone… i hope he’ll talk to me. i love you, baby, i miss you.
february 3rd, 2025 - 6:39pm
i dreamt of you last night, it was the first time i’ve gotten more than a single hour of sleep since you… since you left. you were there like you have been ever since i met you in that practice room so long ago. you remember that, right? when you dropped hyuck off and i spilled my soda on you? yeah, we were back there. you told me not to worry, that everything is fine. it felt different than it did before, though, because you were crying and holding my face like you do when you try to make things better… nothing is fine, yn. you’re gone, and a world without you simply cannot be anything but fucking awful.
february 3rd, 2025 - 6:45pm
oh, and i forgot. i went to see hyuck but i didn’t get him to talk… he was on your childhood bed, the one with the pink covers… he hasn’t gotten out of your room for anything but the bathroom, so your parents are very worried. i’m gonna try to make it better, okay? i’ll help him because i know it’s destroying you to watch this from up there… i love you, always.
february 5th, 2025 - 6:33pm
hey, my love. i just got off the phone with my superior… he said i can stay home and we’ll issue when i can resume my service. i begged him to let me go back, you know… i need to be okay, i need to be busy so i don't think about you every second of every day; but he said i need to grieve in peace, so now i'm stuck here again. i’m staying with doyoung because every time i step foot at our house i feel like i’m dying inside, although i told him it’s because it’s closer to your parents, just in case they need me. i know he knows the truth, but i have to be strong, you know? they all lost you too. i love you, ill talk to you soon.
february 7th, 2025 - 3:56am
why did you have to leave me, yn? why did you decide to walk when you knew hyuck could take you to work? why on earth did you do that? i’m so mad, not only at you, but at everything. i’m mad because you shouldn’t have walked, i’m mad because some fucking asshole decided to drunk drive at five in the fucking afternoon. i’m mad because i wasn’t there… i should’ve been there to push you out of the way and then maybe it would be you sitting here at home feeling like nothing makes any sense anymore. you should be here, with me, dancing around the kitchen like we always did when we got drunk. now i’m dancing with a fucking ghost… i love you so much, but i’m so fucking mad at the world for making you leave me.
february 7th, 2025 - 6:47pm
hey angel… uhm, i’m sorry for this morning, i was really drunk and everything kind of came crashing down on me… i’m cleaning up right now because i left a mess when i came back. i shattered the coffee cup and your lipstick is gone, which made me cry like a fucking baby… i also found my old zeppelin shirt, the one you stole the first night you ever slept over. i remember you sent me a picture of you wearing it the day of the accident, it’s even my wallpaper still… but yeah, i miss you, baby, and i’m not mad at you.
february 20th, 2025 - 6:32pm
hi baby, sorry i haven’t reached out in so long, i’ve been busy trying to get my shit together… i talked to your brother today, i finally got him out of the house and we went to the park. we ate those coconut ice creams you liked so much and sat by fred the statue, hyuck cried the entire time. we talked about you, all the happy memories and how fucking funny you were, always cheering us up in our worst moments… we also talked about the big fight we had when he found out we were dating. remember that? he tried to fist fight me when he was 14 even though i was so much bigger than him. i guess he was right then, though. we were too young and dumb to know things like love. but I know better now, and i have loved you ever since the very first second i saw your pretty face.
march 17th, 2025 - 6:57pm
hello, baby, long time no see… i just got out of your memorial… your parents asked me to talk because neither of them can bring themselves to, so i did and i don't think i’ve ever looked as pathetic in my life… i can’t stop crying, even now that it’s long over… everyone was here, you know, even sion and them. i think you would’ve hated it, you always despised seeing people cry… i’m taking hyuck to our house tonight. he said he needs to be surrounded by you, so he’ll stay with me until we’re both better. you should see him now, how disarmed he is… it scares me a lot, what if i don’t do as good of a job at cheering him up as you would’ve? i mean, i can’t even get myself to stop feeling like i’m being crushed, how the fuck am i supposed to help him?... i don’t know, but i promise i’ll figure it out. i love you, ynnie, forever always.
april 27th, 2025 - 6:35pm
hey ynnie, i’m back here again… it’s been four months since you left, and i’m beginning to think it won’t get better. i thought i was, really, that’s why i stopped calling. but i went out with the guys today, and yuta broke down because he saw your name in his contacts… we all miss you so fucking much, yn. it feels like a huge part of life is missing without you by my side and it’s drowning me. i feel like i’m holding onto you like an anchor in the middle of the ocean, but i don’t want to let go… i don’t know how to. i miss you every single day; when i walk through the market, when i clean, when i watch tv. you’re fucking everywhere, and i don’t know how to appreciate that yet, it just makes me feel worse than i already do. still, it’s not your fault… nothing ever was and now nothing ever will be. i love you, just as much as i always have.
may 16th, 2025 - 6:46pm
hey, my love. uhm, this will be the last message for a while, okay? i started going to the therapist, and he said it might be better for me to find another outlet than this one… i think he might be right, i don’t know what i’ll do the day this number gets reassigned… anyways, i wanted to let you know, even when i know you’re watching me from wherever you are. i love you, yn. i want you to know that even if you’re not here for me to tell you. i love you, i love you, i love you, i will never stop loving you.
january 27th, 2026 - 6:48pm
hey, ynnie… it’s been a while, huh? i know you’re probably scolding me from up there for calling this number again after so long, but i need you to understand me on this one. i don’t call with hopes that you’ll answer anymore, i gave up on that a long time ago… i found other ways to talk to you, and i’m sure you know that because i’ve seen the way your star flickers sometimes when i go talk to you every night. everything is better, as you know. haechan is back on his feet, he’s touring again with dream… he’s shining again, and i know it’s because you’re right by his side… your parents are better too, your dad is smiling again. everybody's learning how to live without you, even though we hate it so much… anyways, it’s very fitting that you sent that new dance coach today, she kind of reminds me of you. the boy’s said the same thing, too. still, she’s not you. and i know that’s not fair, no one could ever be you or even close… but still, it makes me miss you even more... dancing is starting to make me happy again, though my feet don't dance like they did with you... well, this turned into a pretty long message, i’m sorry for that, i’ll leave you to it and talk to you tonight, okay? i love you so much, rest well my love.
★ blue's corner ;; hey... im sorry ! i wanted to start the year with something special, and taeyong is the answer to everything in my life... i'm also forever in love with 5sos and this song in particular so i hope you enjoyed !! ★ taglist ;; @neozon3nha @winwintea @spacejip @dudekiss3r @yizhrt @lyvhie @morkiee @astrasng @taroddori ★ back to the masterlist. ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!! ★ divider by @roseraris
© peterm4rker, 2025
#lee taeyong#taeyong#nct 127#taeyong x reader#lee taeyong x reader#nct 127 x reader#🕸🕷✮⋆˙ peterm4rkerswrld#🕸🕷✮⋆˙ taeyong#nct#nct dream#nct taeyong#nct u#nct wish#wayv
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Kidnapping Buddy
pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x teen!reader (platonic)
warnings: kidnapping (it’s silly though)
summary: you find yourself kidnapped by Robotnik but Shadow finds you quite interesting
a/n: request my mutual sent me recently so I knew I had to come through 🙂↕️, here you go!
You didn’t think you’d be spending your day tied to a chair in Robotniks weird Crab helicopter, but here you were. Unfortunately you were considered a useful asset as bait against your parents and Sonic to keep them from trying to stop him from ‘ruling the world’.
It was dumb and extremely boring, especially with no one to talk to. Then he showed up, Shadow was assigned with the task to make sure you didn’t escape, you were a sneaky teen after all. Robotnik himself knew that because you had foiled his plans several times before with your (technically) brother Sonic.
You guys were like two devils when combined together, it was actually quite frightening for Robotnik, which contributed to the reason why you were kidnapped. Keeping you away from Sonic was his idea of lessening the verbal abuse he got from you two.
Shadow didn’t know that though, all he knew was that you were supposed to be their leverage in case of emergency and he was to treat you as such. Too bad he was underestimating you.
As Shadow walked into the room you were held, his gaze never left yours. He fixed himself to lean against the wall, arms crossed as he studied you. You looked harmless enough, he didn’t understand why Robotnik even wanted you here, the mission would’ve gone just fine without you.
Shadow closed his eyes for a second, thinking to himself before opening them up again only to see you had untied yourself. Your arms free as you rubbed your sore wrists.
“This flight sucks, where are the snack?” You asked Shadow, a smirk placed on your features as you teased him subtly.
Shadow stood there dumbfounded as to how you were able to untie yourself in less than five seconds. Thanks to Sonic and all the mishaps he’d had with Eggman your parents thought it was good to teach you a few essentials in case something like this happened.
“How?” Shadow asked you. Somewhat blocking the only exit.
You let out a sigh and sat back down on the floor, not really seeing a reason to leave, “This isn’t the first time..” you smiled as you looked around the room.
He stood there a bit longer before walking closer, seeing you didn’t seem to have much of an urge to leave, “Explain.”
And so you did, you went on an annoyingly long rant about how Robotnik liked to try and capture you or your family members to use against Sonic but it never worked.
As you talked Shadow found himself engrossed. He sat across from you, no longer worried if you escaped, he’d probably catch you anyway. While you told your stories he noticed you were very expressive, it reminded him about his short encounter with the other hedgehog he’d briefly met.
“That sounds obnoxious.” Shadow mumbled, his brows furrowed and armed crossed.
“It really is!!” You exclaimed, your arms thrown in the air as you huffed. You didn’t really know Shadow well and you knew he was the enemy but he was honestly fun to talk to, at least more than Robotnik and Stone were.
Before you’d realized it you had already spent a lot of time talking with Shadow, he may have been a bit intimidating but he was genuinely really cool. Even he seemed to enjoy himself around you, finding amusement in your stories. He honestly hoped you’d be able to escape or your brothers come and save you.
Time continued to pass as you spent time with Shadow, talking about mindless things. His responses quick but it was more in his nature to listen anyway. You were a fun ‘prisoner’, even if you would argue you willingly let yourself be kidnapped (you did not).
#sonic 3#sonic the hedgehog#sonic 3 movie#sonic 3 x reader#x reader#shadow the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog x reader#shadow#shadow x reader#ivo robotnik
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a requester asked: Travis, Garroth, Laurance, and Gene from MCD with tea, cream, and pumpkin bread. If that works! If it makes any sense star, have an amazing day and don’t overwork yourself!!!
𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟗: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫!!
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: romantic tension, fluff, teaching/training/mentoring a skill
𝐚/𝐧: i LOVED this one hehe thanks for requesting, and have an amazing day/night! i’ll try not to overwork myself hhahahash but we shall see
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒
“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to go so hard back there…” Travis winces as he sits on a suitable log, holding up his arm to look at the deep cut he’d acquired in your sparring match.
“I’m really sorry,” you genuinely apologize, sitting next to him. “I thought you were paying attention to my swing.”
“I guess I was distracted by something…” He bites his lip, a fox-like grin spreading on his face that puts his fanged canines on display. “But, ah… I’ve had much worse than this, don’t worry.”
It doesn’t ease much of your guilt, and you reach to gently hold his arm–inspecting it with a frown.
“...If you really want to apologize, why don’t you patch me up?” he suggests, pulling his pack from his back and setting it in your lap.
“I don’t really know how to that well,” you hesitate, eyes wide when he pulls out a needle and thread, setting it in your hands as he wipes the blood from his wound with a clean cloth.
“Then I’ll teach you,” he grins. “I only need a few anyways. It should be easy to do.”
“Uh…”
“Trust me. You’re not gonna hurt me anymore than you already did, beautiful,” he leans closer, eyes lidded as his face hovers near yours.
“I’ll add another cut,” you warn, and the impish man backs away with a chuckle.
“Alright! I can take a hint,” he places his uninjured hand over his chest theatrically. “Even though it hurts.”
He points down at his wound, giving you a pouted lip. “Now, could the pretty woman please grace my wounds with her touch before I bleed out?”
You situate the thread and needle in your hands, feeling nervous again. “Okay… how should I do this?”
“Just carefully thread it through the first couple layers of skin there and pull. Not too deep that out hurts but also not too shallow that it doesn’t hold,” he explains, leaning over you as you carefully do as he says. “Then loop it around there and pull gently… not too tight but enough to connect the skin together again.”
He only winces a bit as he talks, seeming used to the pain. He was right, only a few stitches were needed before the wound was closed, and the healing ointment and bandages he also had in his pack made finishing the job rather quick and easy.
“How’d you learn this?” you ask, as you finish tying it off the end of the bandage.
“Well, not many doctors would accept the son of the Demon Warlock,” he says quietly. “After so many failed attempts of doing it on your own, you eventually learn.”
A wave of sadness washes over you at the admission, the image of a younger version of Travis in pain and tears as he fails to nurse his own injuries heartbreaking to think about. Green eyes dart over your face when you remain speechless, and the man quickly jumps to his feet.
“But! Now you and I both know their technique, so what good are they for anyways?” With his hand held out, he bows to you, offering help to bring you to your feet.
You take it, standing with a quiet sigh.
“Hey, don’t look so upset. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been now that such a fine-looking face worried over me.”
𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇
Your breath creates steam in the cold air as you stand in front of the dummy, the burlap sacks sliced and stabbed in several places; causing their hay insides to spill onto the ground. Despite the cold, you were warmed up from how long you’d been training with the head guard today, and you’d even shed a layer of your heavy clothing in the process.
Of course, the man in charge of your combat lesson naturally ran hotter than you, so you were both blessed and subjected to his upper half only to be covered by his linen undershirt. Every time he’d demonstrate a way he wanted you to swing or how to change your footwork, your eyes would drift to the thick muscles that pulled against his sleeves and stretched the material over his chest.
Truly, it wasn’t your fault! He was tall enough that those assets happened to be directly within your line of sight, so if anything it was his fault for… being so tall and muscular!
“…No, that’s not what I showed you…” Garroth sighs gently when you once again mess up your stance. Seeming as you hadn’t been paying close attention to his feet when he’d given you a demonstration, you were a bit lost when he put you on the spot.
Walking up to your side, strong arms come around either side of you as he adjusts your grip, his leg coming between yours to push your feet out. You have to stop yourself from letting your jaw fall completely to the floor, the proximity of the man towering over you nearly scrambling any semblance you had left to remain professional.
“You seem distracted today. Are you feeling well?” He asks as he steps away, a concerned look in his eye as he looks over your face.
“Um… no, I’m perfectly fine…” You chuckle nervously, dipping your sword a bit as you scold yourself for your obviousness.
“Are you sure?” he frowns, strong hand landing on your shoulder and squeezing in an act of comfort. It only heats your skin on fire, sending your thoughts reeling. “We can take a break, if you need to.”
“No. I’m alright,” you breathe. “Let’s continue.”
“…Alright, then let’s change from practicing offense to defense,” he gives in to your insistence, walking over to pick up a shield and place it on your arm.
The distance he puts between you a moment later gives you a moment to breathe, but not before he’s readying himself to attack. A sense of panic takes over you as you move to ready yourself, his nod for your short spar to begin coming all too soon.
He charges, and in one swipe the shield is immediately knocked from your hands, the force of his strength immediately overtaking you. You stumble back, and you’re sure you’re set to fall right down on your back as your feet lose their balance.
With a yelp, you tense for the impact, but you only fall for a split second before a hand tightly wraps around your arm. His sword dully falls against the training ground dirt before his other hand shoots your other side, pulling you up in a quick motion to your feet.
Briefly, you’re pressed against his chest, his heart racing against your ear and arms wrapping around you to hold you steady. He’s warm, so warm, that you almost forget the reason he was holding you in the first place. The brief sense of his strong muscles pressed against you is taken away when he pulls you back enough to get a good look at you.
His eyes are wide, unblinking, darting across your form and checking for injuries. “I think… this has been enough training for today. Are you okay?”
You manage a nod, focused in on the rising blush against his ears and cheeks. “Yes.”
“…Good. Now, how about I treat you to a meal?”
𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄
“One thing Garroth hasn’t taught you is the art of smooth-talking,” Laurance leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. The calm breeze of the day rushed past the two of you as you sat on the edge of the guard tower, looking out on the village. “It can get you out of any sticky diplomatic situation.”
You cross your arms, humming with a raised brow. “Ah, yes. Something you know all about, huh?”
“I’d never deceive you if that’s what you’re implying,” he says with an offended gasp. “By my honor!”
You can’t help but laugh, turning away to attempt to hide it from him to no avail. When you turn back, he’s looking at you with a soft gaze and quirked lip. He hums, smile widening as he watches your eyes dart away shyly.
“I’m serious, though,” he starts, tilting his head at you with an intent look. “I don’t want you to be in a situation where simply swinging your sword around isn’t going to work and you end up in trouble.”
You deadpan.
“Are you saying I’m a brute or are you insulting my ability to communicate?”
He tilts his head back, hearty laughter dancing into the air as a hand reaches up to his stomach. “Neither! Though if you were a brute you sure are the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen.”
For everything that is good, he really can never let up on his flirting, can he? You lower your head, giving him a glowering look at his insistent teasing within every sentence he utters to you. It wasn’t fair to your poor heart, as it betrayed you with its quick beating in your chest. The way you were never able to fully gain your composure next to him was entirely frustrating.
“Will you continue to display how good you are at smooth talk or are you going to teach me?”
A snort leaves his lips. “Well your methods of intimidation need some work, too-”
You swing, narrowly missing his arm before he scoops your hands up in his. “Hey now! What did I just say about using words over violence? Not off to a good start, huh?”
He softens his smile, lowering your hands. “You have to be personable. To play on the other’s weakness to get the answer you want. I’ll give you an example.”
With a subtle tilt of his head and a pleading lift of his lashes, the man leans forward, his voice softening. “My lady, your forced indifference wounds me to my very core. Can’t you consider my advances as genuine?”
Your body betrays you once again as a rush of blood rises to your cheeks. You’re quick to look away, attending your focus back on the village below you.
“Does that work on most ladies?”
“Oh my, don’t tell me you’re jealous,” he moves his head to get a better look at your expression, his eyes eating up the slight pout on your lips. “I hope you know the only woman I have eyes for is you…”
You don’t respond, and he forms his own answer with an almost giddy smile. He’s quick to return to his suave demeanor only a moment later. “I see. Well, what’s your response? Give me your best shot.“
His smug reaction is enough to make your pride stubbornly rear its head. So you turn to him again, eyes narrowed and face coming only inches from his as you give a similar look that he’d given you only a moment prior.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t keep teasing and distracting me on the job,” you whisper scoldingly. “Don’t you think it’s unfair to a subordinate to tempt them all the time from wanting to do anything but their assignment?”
The smug look is replaced with a look of awe and an almost unnoticeable hitch of air caught in his throat. He dares to lean in closer, eyes longing as they drift down to your lips, his own parting for a moment before he clears his throat, leaning back again.
“Ah, good job,” he smirks, though his cheeks are flushed. “Consider me charmed. Though, I already was, so how fair of an assessment can I give…?”
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄
Wind rushes by your ears as you sprint further into the forest, your breaths quick as you stare down at the ground ahead of you, your feet searching for the quietest part of the ground to step on. Still, the leaves and twigs crunch under your boots, and your lungs loudly gasp for air–the noise echoing off the trees around you.
A large tree looks promising ahead, the trunk wide enough for you to side behind if only for a moment to rest. Your hand meets the rough bark as you swing around to the other side, pressing your back flat against it.
In nature, animals and bugs can sense when there’s a shift in the normalcy of their small lives. They can feel when the energy shifts; when there’s something dangerous nearby. A predator. Something that wasn’t meant to be there.
You can feel it too.
Even if you didn’t, the nature around you gives plenty of warning. There’s no bird chatter or the distant rustling of bushes as critters search for a snack. Eerie silence save for the rushing of blood in your ears settles over, sending a fearful spike of adrenaline through your legs. You can’t tell if it was going to make you take off in another spurt of energy or if it would make you collapse down onto the bed of grass beneath you.
There’s not much time for you to decide which it is before an almost intentional snap of a twig under what could only be a person’s foot sounds from your left. You quickly twist your neck to look, only to be met with more empty forest before your eyes.
A breath brushes against your right ear, low and amused—and most definitely meant to startle you. Arms snatch around your torso, lifting you into the air and against a built chest as you yelp in surprise.
“You, my dear, are not very good at this.” Gene’s lips press against your ear; his breath unnervingly hot.
You swallow, gasping for air while your feet dangle in the air. Your heart feels like it’s going to leap straight out from your throat with every quick harsh beat, making you dizzy as the chase concludes.
“I made it pretty far.” you gasp, pointing your toes to the ground and still unable to gain footing.
“Yet all of the strategies I’ve shown you were nowhere to be found. I could hear you from a mile away, pretty.”
“It’s not fair, you have an advantage by nature…”
A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he slowly sets you down, though his arms still keep you trapped against him.
“That’s true… but I don’t know… I’ve been teaching you these techniques all week and you still haven’t caught on at all,” He muses in a teasing tone, grabbing your chin and tilting you up to look at him. “Maybe I just need to follow you around forever to guard you from attacks.”
His dark eyes dance between blue and red, both deep in hue like blood spilling into the deep ocean. It’s dangerously mesmerizing, entrancing despite your very nature fighting against it. A lithe finger taps against your cheek when you don’t offer him any response, his head tilting at you as his tongue runs over his teeth.
“Hm? Is that it? Should I never let you out of my hands?” He suggests, voice bordering something possessive, or maybe an emotion that ran indescribably further down than that. “Maybe you want that.”
A second passes before he lets you go, gently shoving you ahead. “One more. I’ll give you a longer head start this time.”
“H-huh?” you pant, turning around with wide eyes to look at him as he leans against the tree, not looking worn or phased at all. “Right now?”
“One… two…”
©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.
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My success stories that made me realize how truly easy it is.
I manifested knowing a test on the same day. It was a math test (my worst class😭) I skipped all the lessons for the test and didn’t study at all. I visualized getting the test and saying “is this even the right test??? It’s so easy wtf” and imagined getting an 80% (I didn’t go for 100% cuz I still doubted myself at that time) Spoiler alert, the test was SO easy that I finished 40 minutes before anybody else LMAO and I got EXACTLY 80% Also, I did all that in the same day, RIGHT BEFORE I WALKED IN THE CLASS. Literally as I sat down I realized I knew all the material… LIKE WHAT. After that I realized I shifted without even knowing lol.
I also got a pizza on a time crunch. I see other people saying to not focus on when you’ll get your manifestations, but I didn’t care cuz I call the shots. At the end of the day I KNEW I already had it in the 4d. I got the pizza on the exact day I wanted it ofc (in 2 days)
This last one was alot easier to manifest than I thought lol. I manifested a black 1TB iphone 16 pro. This one took longer in the 3d cuz I assumed it needed to🤦 anyway, my mom just randomly said she wanted to buy me one (it wasn’t for Christmas or my birthday) when we got there the guy told us they didn’t have any black 1TB ones. I was saying things like “oh ok that’s fine” but internally I was saying “nah I have it, period.” Fast forward, my mom ordered one online and surprised me with it. Now I’m typing this with my new iphone!
If anyone could take something from this its that you’re deadass limitless. I heard that over and over again but never truly realized it. Before, I assumed shifting was hard, I assumed I couldn’t manifest something on a set time, and I assumed I couldn’t manifest getting something if someone in the 3d full on told me no. I got tired of it (so should you) so I stopped listening to the outer man and became my 4d where there is nothing holding you back. I proved to myself that I could bend the 3d, but first I had to believe in myself. I know that sounds cliche but there is no other being that gives it to you. Have faith in yourself, you are GOD
Im off to manifest my dream life now!
I’m so happy for you!!♥️ Can’t wait to hear more success stories from you!!
#void state#void#law of assumption#loa tumblr#loassumption#loa blog#loablr#manifestation#loa#the void state#loa manifestation#loa tips#loa advice#loasuccess#loa success
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Lucifer smiled. This was going better than he expected. But then, it was only his daughter and not her other half.
Lucifer: That's right hun. We've taken it... slow. Being mindful of eachother. And supportive.
That almost made Adam want to laugh. In a way, Lucifer was right. And it made sense that he wouldn't mention the whole moving into her mother's side of the house and erasing any trace of her.
That might be a conversation for another day.
Charlie: Oh, that's good, dad - great, even. But uh... how did you two...? Adam tried to take over Hell, and you thought he'd make a good partner-? No offense, Adam.
Adam shrugged: None taken.
That doesn't mean he didn't feel good about what Charlie said. He wasn't that bad, was he?
Lucifer: Uh, yes. Well. That... some... thing had come to light after Adam's little... voyage around Hell.
Charlie: Like what?
Lucifer: That isn't my story to tell, Char. Amd it doesn't necessarily have to be spoken about again. If Adam isn't comfortable.
Adam gave Lucifer a weak smile. He really didn't want to talk about it again, especially with Charlie. She'd probably have a story time with Vaggie anyway.
Charlie: Oh. Of course, I'm sorry Adam, for pushing.
Adam: You're fine, kid. It doesn't matter.
There was silence for a few moments, Charlie was thinking about everything her father told her, and that's when she got an idea.
Charlie: Ohmygod- Adam!
Adam jumped: Uh- yeah?
Charlie: You could come to the hotel! Get redeemed! You could be an ambassador in Heaven for us!
Lucifer: Uh, hun. Fallen angels can't get back to Heaven. Once the cord between a holy spirit and God is cut, there's no getting that back.
Charlie: What? But... that's not fair. If a sinner can be redeemed, but a fallen angel can't.
If it wasn't for all the company, Adam would be jumping for joy. The last place he wanted to go was that bullshit hotel.
Lucifer: I know, hun. But it's just the way it is.
The rest of the visit went well, and by the time Adam wanted to tear his constricting clothes off, Charlie was hugging her father at the front door.
Charlie: Bye dad! Bye Adam!
Lucifer: Bye hun! Come round for tea sometime, okay?
Adam: Yeah, I'm cooking!
Lucifer amd Charlie froze and gave Adam horrified looks.
Adam: What? I can cook!
The Sin of Adam!au.
One more quick au before I fall asleep.
Adam falls to Hell after his death. But he doesn't wake up in Pride. He wakes up in Wrath. Adam is completely pissed off and just itching for revenge.
In this, Adam conquers each ring of Hell, growling stronger until he's on the same wavelength as Lucifer, power wise.
Lucifer has no idea what's going on. He's slowly losing contact with the Sins, and everyone is in a state of panic. That's until he returns home from a few days away, trying to find the Sins, that he sees his daughters hotel, and Pentagram city destroyed.
Thankfully, Charlie and her friends are fine. But what she explains is unbelievable.
Charlie: It was Adam, dad!
Lucifer: Adam? He's dead Charlie- I buried him myself.
Charlie: I thought so, too! He was looking for you! He's alive!
Lucifer gets his daughter to hide. Everything is in a state of chaos. He can't find Adam anywhere.
Until he returns home and sees someone sitting on his throne.
After a long, destructive fight, Lucifer realizes that Adam only absorbed the Sins. Their not dead
Adam has literally been taken over by the powers of Hell.
Can Lucifer contain and find a way to get Adam and the Sins back before he destroys Hell and everything undead thing in it??
How will Lucifer get Adam back??
Who knows 🤷
Adam: You can't defeat me now Lucifer!
Lucifer: Oh yes I can! I'm going to fuck the sins out of you!!
Adam: Wait what?
Ozzie inside: YEAH BABY!!
Sorry I'm feeling a little silly lmao 😂
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Azel Radwan: Romantic Ending Ch. 21
Chapter 20
Thank you @shatcey for providing the video for this chapter!
♡———♡
One evening, the greedy God, on a whim, gave me a lesson on Tanzanite cuisine.
Azel: Your debt keeps increasing instead of decreasing…
Azel: At this rate, you might have to be my slave forever, you know?
At the dinner table, which had become a daily occurrence in Tanzanite, Prince Azel brought the food to his mouth with gestures that spoke of his good upbringing.
Today's meal was a Tanzanite-style salad made with bulgur wheat soaked in water until soft, mixed with finely chopped tomatoes, onions, and parsley.
The main course was simple yakitori, skewers of chicken seasoned with vegetables and spices, served with chickpea soup.
The presentation wasn't perfect, but I was getting used to dishes other than Rhodolite's.
Even so—I couldn't agree with the dinner topic being my debt.
Emma: Just to be sure, what debt are you referring to?
Azel: The tuition fee for the Tanzanite cooking course.
Emma: I'm improving my cooking skills for your benefit too, you know.
Azel: That's irrelevant. No matter what your circumstances are, my goodwill doesn't come free.
(He brings up debt, debt, at every opportunity...)
(But, I've recently learned how to get back at him.)
Emma: Ah, I understand. You want to keep me here, don't you, Prince Azel?
Azel: That's a leap in logic.
Emma: It's not. You keep increasing my debt with contrived reasons, so I thought you didn't want to let me go.
Azel: That's absurd.
(He won't meet my eyes... Don't tell me I hit a nerve?)
(...Calm down, Emma. Don't dig your own grave.)
I cleared my throat to regain my composure.
Emma: But at this rate, I don't think I'll be able to repay it even if I spend my whole life doing so.
Emma: I'd be happy if you could provide some kind of relief measure.
Azel: I'd like to tell you to diligently pay it off in cash or labor, but...
Azel: If it's going to become a bad debt anyway, it might be an option to show you another path.
Azel: For example, if you give me something worth a fortune, I might consider it.
Emma: ...Something worth a fortune...
Azel: A treasure that I would want even if I had to pay a large sum of money for it.
Emma: Do you have any desires besides money, food, books, and materials, Prince Azel?
Azel: Let me see...
Prince Azel, who had stopped eating, suddenly looked at me.
But he didn't say anything, and his mystical eyes remained motionless, making me uncomfortable.
Emma: .....Prince Azel?
Azel: ......
Emma: Why are you pinching my cheeks?
Azel: Because I felt irritated for some reason.
Emma: It hurts!
Azel: I thought about it, but as of now, there's nothing that's worth a fortune to me.
The hand that had left my cheek now reached for the yakitori.
Emma: It's troubling that there's nothing, for my debt's sake.
Azel: You just have to become a great merchant like Prince Silvio.
Emma: I don't think I can.
Azel: Then give up and keep diligently earning money.
Azel: Ah, don't worry. I also accept debt repayments by letter.
Azel: Use a carrier or whatever to deliver it to me.
Emma: ...If it gets to be too much, I think I'll consult with the owner.
Azel: Please don't do that. It's not something a kind-hearted Belle should do. It's too cruel.
I couldn't help but laugh at Prince Azel's sudden change in attitude.
The God frowned.
Azel: ...More importantly, you haven't eaten anything since a while ago.
Emma: Ah, I was so engrossed in talking that I...
Emma: Shouldn't you be reading a book, Prince Azel?
When I pointed it out, Prince Azel finally seemed to realize that he hadn't brought a book to the dinner table.
Azel: ...There's no book I want to read today.
Emma: I feel like something similar happened recently...
Azel: That doesn't matter. If you're not going to eat, I'll eat it all.
Emma: No way, don't take my share too!
I hurriedly snatched back the skewers when he tried to take them all.
Unlike in the beginning, our meals these days were often lively.
We would have trivial back-and-forths, laughing foolishly...
I knew this everyday life would end someday, but I wanted to soak in it for as long as possible.
-
Emma: Prince Azel… is he… trying to take his own life?
Screams, shouts of anger, cries, fear—all these mingled in the city, stirring the dry air.
The sounds of conflict could be heard not far away, and Tanzanite, which should have been protected by dreams and illusions, was crumbling.
In this nightmarish reality, only Kamal was smiling.
Her head wouldn't nod, nor would it shake.
The sound of my own heartbeat stuck to my ears, and sweat trickled down my cheeks.
Silvio: Hey, what's goin' on?
(Maybe I have more information than Prince Silvio right now.)
(That's how long I've been with Prince Azel.)
To answer his question, I gathered all the memories I had since coming to Tanzanite.
Everything I saw with my eyes and felt in my heart led me to the worst possible conclusion.
Emma: Perhaps Prince Azel is…
Emma: ...trying to give the people who can't live without a God a shock treatment.
Silvio: ...Huh?
*flashback*
Azel: Someone once said that humans are thinking reeds.
Azel: But those who have given up thinking for themselves are just reeds.
Azel: It's a fitting image for this country, where all the plants have withered and died.
*flashback over*
(Prince Azel was worried about the current distorted state of Tanzanite.)
(As long as there is a God, people will forever give up making their own choices and will not be able to move forward on their own.)
(But if the God were to physically disappear...)
(Only when they can no longer rely on a God will people finally awaken from the dream of mythology.)
Silvio: What are ya sayin'...? There's no way that bastard would engage in such selfless hypocrisy.
Silvio: Unlike you, he hates the words "for the sake of others" more than anything.
(...That part bothers me too.)
(Until a while ago, I even thought he might love poeple...)
*flashback*
Azel: If you want to say that God is a merciful being, don't make me laugh.
Azel: I don't care what happens to ordinary people.
-
Azel: ...The people say they love God.
Azel: They think they can do whatever they want using "love" as a shield.
Azel: That's why I will never love anyone.
*flashback over*
(The more I hear, the less reason I see for Prince Azel to be able to love anyone.)
(Could a God who has served people to the point of degrading himself as a slave truly wish for their happiness?)
Silvio: It's easier to believe he's "fakin' his death to seek freedom."
Silvio: His unusual greed for money might have been to raise funds for his eventual departure, right?
Emma: ...If that were the case, would there be a need to cause such a big commotion?
Emma: Besides, Prince Azel's appearance would stand out in other countries too.
Emma: Even if he could disguise his hair color, there's no way to hide those eyes.
Emma: Even if he faked his death and escaped, there's a high chance he'd be found.
Silvio: The country that sheltered him would be pickin' a fight with Tanzanite. Your point makes sense.
Silvio: Even if we argue here, we won't find the answer in the end.
Silvio: Not unless we catch that bastard and interrogate him.
(As Prince Silvio said, it seems the only thing to do now is to question Prince Azel.)
(...The more time passes, the more likely my guess will become reality...)
I put on the bag Kamal gave me and started walking towards the back of the alley.
Silvio: Are ya really goin'?
Emma: I can't just be driven out like this without an explanation.
Silvio: What happens to him has nothin' to do with ya, right?
(Prince Azel also used to say "It has nothing to do with me" at every opportunity.)
(Certainly, once I leave Tanzanite, he might become no more than a casual acquaintance, but...)
Emma: ––When I was burdened with debt, I told Prince Azel...
*flashback*
Emma: Even if I'm in debt, I will say no to things I don't like.
Emma: Don't think I'll just obey everything you say.
*flashback over*
Emma: If I really become subservient to a God, then I'm truly a slave.
Emma: That's why I have to go and clearly tell him what I don't like.
(When I think that I might never see Prince Azel again...)
(It becomes so painful that I almost forget how to breathe.)
Kamal didn't stop me as I moved forward with determination.
Silvio: ...Tch, that broke bastard, I'll squeeze him dry when I see him next.
It seemed Prince Silvio was coming with me, and he lined up beside me.
Emma: Thank you very much.
Silvio: You owe me one too, ya know?
Emma: I'll definitely pay you back.
(I will definitely catch that cowardly God.)
-
Silvio: ––Well, I imagined it, but...
Silvio: It's completely empty, huh?
What awaited us when we returned to the temple was an eerie silence, so profound that it made this morning's events seem like a fleeting illusion.
Just like the other day, we searched the temple thoroughly, but he was nowhere to be found.
(The left corridor is blocked by rubble, and there's no sign that Prince Azel removed it.)
He might be hiding somewhere in the vast desert, or somewhere in the city, but without any clues, it would be difficult to track him down.
(It's impossible to avoid being seen on the only road leading from the city to the castle.)
(That means it's unlikely that Prince Azel is in the castle, so I think it's either the city or the temple.)
(...Maybe the tourist firm he took me to before is a possibility.)
(But, since he threw out my bag from the temple, Prince Azel must be avoiding me...)
(In that case, he might be in a place I would never think of.)
(...Coward. Are you fine with this becoming a bad debt?)
Silvio: Woman, we've got a problem.
(.....?)
With a click of his tongue, Prince Silvio looked towards where a shadow was approaching us with a leisurely gait.
(The apostle....)
Apostle: Lady Emma, you were here after all.
The High Priest wore the same unchanging smile, betraying no hint of the attack in the city, as he stopped before us with several guards.
His air of benevolence, even in this state of emergency, was rather eerie.
(Having heard the story of Prince Azel's brother, I'm even more on guard than before.)
Silvio: The God aint' here.
Apostle: Is that so? ...I thought as much.
Apostle: The Living God can foresee the future. He's probably hiding himself within an illusion to protect himself.
Apostle: It's my fault that such a non-believer appeared in the city...
Apostle: I wanted to confirm the safety of the Living God with my own eyes, but this is troubling.
(The apostle probably wants Prince Azel to quell the unrest in the city.)
(By any means necessary.)
(...)
(...Did you really come to look for Prince Azel?)
Even though he knew Prince Azel wasn't here, the apostle didn't seem flustered. There was no sign of him rushing off to another location.
Apostle: Lady Emma and Prince Silvio are also looking for the Living God, aren't you?
Apostle: But neither we nor you have any idea where he might be.
Apostle: It would be impossible to find the Living God if we just wander around blindly like this.
Apostle: So, if you don't mind, could you lend me your strength?
Silvio: ...How specifically?
Apostle: There's only one way to summon the Living God.
The apostle's gaze didn't leave me. His clinging, unpleasant stare made my breath tremble.
Apostle: Lady Emma is the only one who has received the divine favor of God.
Apostle: The Living God is merciful, so he surely wouldn't ignore it if something were to happen to that woman.
(...!)
Silvio: You...
As Silvio immediately reached for his sword, the apostle raised both hands. The way he surrendered, just like Prince Azel, made their blood relation undeniable.
Apostle: I apologize if I caused a misunderstanding. Of course, I won't harm Lady Emma.
Apostle: Just having you here with me is enough.
(......Not good at all.)
Emma: ...Are you going to exploit Prince Azel's trauma?
(The fear instilled in him when his brothers were tortured...)
A low voice, the likes of which I had never uttered before, escaped my lips. The apostle, who had kept his expression masked, showed a slight change for the first time.
Apostle: The Living God has truly opened his heart to Lady Emma.
Apostle: To think you know about that painful divine punishment...
Emma: ...Painful?
(He did it himself, so why can he talk about it like it's someone else's business?)
Apostle: I am a servant of the Living God. Every single action I take is dedicated to God.
Apostle: I have never wished to torment him. That's why it's painful.
(...)
(...This might be the first time I've ever wanted to punch someone this badly.)
I suppressed the violent urge and told myself to stay calm.
Even if I explained my anger to the apostle, it would be meaningless.
(If I cooperate with the apostle, I might be able to find Prince Azel and avoid the worst-case scenario.)
(If we only look at the goal, we can work together... but...)
Emma: Regarding your previous proposal, I must decline.
Emma: It would truly pain me to summon Prince Azel using such cowardly tactics.
My heart couldn't accept it no matter what.
Apostle: ...I shall respect your compassionate heart.
Apostle: I must think of another method.
(...To think he'd back down so easily.)
(I thought he might resort to force...)
While maintaining his smile, the apostle turned to a male cleric beside him.
Apostle: Please summon Enis to the sanctuary.
Apostle: Just tell him I wish to discuss the future.
(No––...! It's no different, the hostage has just changed from me to Enis!)
Apostle: Now then, we shall take our leave.
Apostle: If you happen to see the Living God, could you tell him to come to the sanctuary?
Apostle: I'm so worried about where he is and what he's doing now...
(With a kind face, he's cruel to the core...)
(Come to think of it, Clavis did say...)
*flashback*
Clavis: The gatherings that the apostle holds regularly... when you lift the lid, it's a workshop for manufacturing fanatics.
Clavis: Today's riot was probably also caused by some of those fanatics.
*flashback over*
(...The apostle will stop at nothing to protect his faith.)
(If King Enis is captured by the apostle now, it will be disastrous.)
Emma: Apostle....!
The hand I extended to stop him was easily grabbed and blocked.
—Not by Prince Silvio, nor the apostle, but by Kamal, who appeared as if emerging from the sandstorm.
Emma: Kamal---
Kamal: Old man, I'm disappointed to see you looking so well, truly.
(………… Huh?)
For the first time, words were spun from Kamal's lips, which shouldn't be able to make a sound.
More than the content itself... I was so shocked, it was like being punched in the gut, leaving me gaping.
I wasn't the only one surprised; the smile disappeared from the apostle's face as well.
Kamal: Oh my, what's with that stupid look? I wanted to see it with Azel.
Apostle: ...Why...?
Kamal: Why? You're saying strange things.
Kamal: I've always been on my cute little brother's side. Unlike our crazy old man.
The voice coming from the bewitching beauty was unexpectedly deep.
Silvio: That face... You weren't told?
Silvio: Kamal is that broke bastard's brother.
(Prince Azel's... brother!?)
.
.
.
Romantic Ending Ch. 21 His Side Story
If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)
#ikepri azel#ikemen translations#ikemen prince translations#azel#azel radwan#azel radwan main route#ikemen prince azel radwan#ikepri jp#cybird otome
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The @keferon mecha AU texaid continues living rent-free in my head, and I just had to write more for them! It was very much unexpected, but I can't say I'm complaining. Timeline wise, it comes after the first half of part one
Cw: mostly just typical Vortex things
One day after his terrifying trip with Vortex, Felix has another encounter with the dangerous mech and a tentative accord is struck.
Felix walks out of the meeting room after three harrowing, shouting-filled hours, feeling hopeless, anxious, and more exhausted than he’s ever been before in his entire life. And what a feat that is, considering he went through medical school during an actual alien apocalypse, not to mention going on an involuntary joyride in a murderous mech just yesterday.
God dammit.
Leaning against the nearest wall, Felix puts his head in his hands and counts to ten.
He’s being reassigned – Felix Adler, newest member of the mecha pilot corps, effective immediately. Tomorrow, he’s to report to the base’s quartermaster at five am sharp, so he can get fitted for a pilot’s uniform and be shoved back into Vortex whenever the next attack comes. The thing’s longest surviving pilot he knows of lasted a whopping six weeks before bleeding out in her seat, courtesy of her severed hands – and that’s disregarding all the other injuries to mind and body he and his colleagues had to treat before her eventual death.
God fucking dammit.
Technically, he could just resign. Could always pack his bags and leave, but – the military paid for his med school. There’s a mandatory eight-year period of service or they’ll make him pay it all back, with an interest rate high enough to make even a loan shark stumble. Short of winning the lottery, there’s no way he’d be able to get his hands on that sort of money in his entire lifetime.
That aside, he wouldn’t be doing his life expectancy any favors by leaving anyway. Most hospitals these days are at least semi-mobile, which means hard cots, cold MRE’s and frequent shuffling around to various affected zones. Not to mention, as beastly as the quintessons look, they’re much smarter than any animal - meaning they’ve learned to recognize hospitals for the prime targets they are and attack accordingly.
Given his luck, he’d end up being flattened by a quint within the year, spending his last moments miserable, tired, and in more debt than gambling addict on a year-long losing streak. It’s the whole reason he fought so hard for this posting in the first place – if you’re going to be working in a medbay, might as well do so where there’s a whole hangar full of mecha to defend you when you need it.
Which leads him right back to where he started. No place to run. A likely death on the front lines, one way or another.
Well. At least the food here is warm.
With an odd numbness creeping into his fingertips, he slowly starts making his way to his quarters, only to remember- right, he doesn’t even get to keep that part of his previous life. He’s being moved in to where the other pilots live, much closer to the hangar than his previous little shoebox of a living space was. Wouldn’t want him to be late for his next date with the malicious death machine, apparently.
Turning on his heels, Felix only makes it a few more steps before something in his head just- snaps. Suddenly, the foggy emptiness of before is chased away by an angry sort of determination, and he changes course yet again, heading instead for the nearest sanitation closet. Grabbing his usual Vortex-duty cleaning supplies, he stomps his way to the hangar.
They want send him back into that thing? Fine. Fine, he’ll be command’s latest sacrificial lamb, but if he’s going to die in that cockpit, he refuses to do so while sitting in other people’s bodily fluids.
The thought buoys him for all of five minutes until he’s standing on the catwalk facing Vortex, at which all his previous bravado evaporates back into a familiar dread. A shiver passes over his skin, the cold lance of anxiety nearly freezing him in his tracks. Still, he breathes through it, forcing himself to take the final few steps needed to stand at the cockpit entrance.
His hand reaches for the opening button- which proves unnecessary, as the crimson glass immediately slides up of its own volition. Blinking, he slowly lowers his hand again.
Hm, he supposes that’s as much of an invitation as he’s going to get. Doesn’t mean he won’t be getting mauled if he goes in, but- it’s a good sign.
Last chance to back out.
“Just here to clean a bit,” he calls out into the cockpit, feeling incredibly stupid talking to empty air, before stepping cautiously inside. Nobody’s bothered to clean up since yesterday, which means the last dead pilot’s blood still stains the small space, turning the floor brown and crusty. The stale air reeks of iron and decay, mixed with the stench of bleach. The sharp, heavy gaze of Vortex’s internal cameras digs into his back, making his hair stand on ends.
All in all, not a very comforting atmosphere.
Felix flinches when the lights suddenly flicker on, bathing the cockpit in red as the screen closes behind him with a resounding click. “I’ll try to be quick about it,” he says, eyes flickering around the small space, “so please don’t-“
A flare of light from behind gives him pause, and Felix turns to find words now written across the mech’s main screen.
AW, WHY NOT STICK AROUND?
GOT SOMEWHERE MORE IMPORTANT TO BE?
Felix huffs, a bit of sharpness creeping into his words despite his racing heart. “I do, actually. Mostly because of you, if you have to know.” Getting to his knees, he puts down his cleaning bucket and starts pulling on a fresh pair of latex gloves, keeping an eye on the screen all the while.
DON’T SULK BABY, YOU KNOW YOU HAD FUN~
“Wh- fun?” he almost yells, indignant. “I don’t know what gave you that idea, but-“
YOU LIKED SEEING THEM TAKEN APART
GETTING TO DIG AROUND IN ALL THEIR SQUISHY INSIDES
Felix freezes at that, one hand halfway to the bucket, followed by a full-body flinch once he sees the next set of works that scroll across the crimson screen.
SO MUCH BETTER THAN THOSE SAD LITTLE SCRAPS IN THE LAB, YEAH?
What the- “How the hell do you know about that?” he wheezes out incredulously. While the medical team eventually found out about the incident that led to his vortex-duty punishment, he could have sworn that it hasn’t carried as far as the pilots. Then, how could he have-
WATCHED YOU ON THE CAMERAS : )
YOU FUCKING SUCK AT BEING SNEAKY, BY THE WAY
LIKE, WOW
Sitting down on the filthy floor with a grimace, Felix closes his eyes, suddenly feeling very, very tired. “Thanks. I’ve noticed,” he sighs out, giving himself a few moments to process.
Vortex is right, in a way. While the experience was mostly awful, what with him being pretty sure he would die that day, Felix has to admit that seeing the quints properly, getting even a glimpse of their physiology up close was horrifyingly fascinating. They’ve long been a mystery he wants desperately to solve, a puzzle to figure out - He wants to see them with his own eyes, to take them apart piece by piece until he knows everything there is to know.
And Vortex seems well aware of it, too, because of course he can mess with the cameras, why not. He’s known all along, apparently, and it had, what- caught his interest? Is that why he strongarmed Felix into ‘piloting’ him in the first place?
He raises his head, intending to ask about it, but his eye is caught by a new string of text across the glass before he can get the words out.
WE CAN BOTH GET WHAT WE WANT OUT OF THIS
Shelving the thought for a later date, he gives Vortex’s screen a considering look, heart racing in his chest. “I’m listening,” he says, cautious.
YOU WANNA DIG AROUND INSIDE THE SQUIDDIES
AND I WANT YOU
WIN-WIN
With a raised brow, Felix scoffs. “Right. And how do I know you’re telling the truth? How do I know you’re not just going to kill me the next time I put that helmet on?”
YOU DON’T
; )
God dammit. Well, he should have expected that, really.
Still, it’s something to work with. Vortex clearly wants him around, whether it be for his medical knowledge or just his entertainment value, which means that, at least for now, he wants Felix alive. There’s no guarantee he won’t change his mind in the future, and Felix is very much aware that alive is not the same as unharmed, but-
It’s a start.
He could still leave. Pack his bags, accept his dishonorable discharge and his mountain of debt, apply at the nearest hospital and never look back. He’d never have to step foot into Vortex again.
But he’d never get to see another quint up close, not unless it was seconds away from smashing him into paste. Never find out what the primary brain looks like, how the mechanical parts merge so seamlessly with alien flesh. Never get to splay one open and tear its secrets from its body, like muscle from bone.
“Alright then,” he finally answers, and fervently hopes it’s the right choice.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! More coming soon! And huge thanks to @jayden-writes and @showstopper35 for their help and support!
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Morning w Hisoka
Summary: morning with your clingy boyfriend.
Note: my english not so good. May be some mistakes.
cw: fluff, clingy!Hisoka, cuddling.
Word count: 654
You wake up because you can’t breathe. You opened your eyes and discovered Hisoka literally lying on top of you. He half sprawled on top of you, throwing his leg over yours and his head resting on your chest.
“Hisoka” you said and shoving him a little bit.
No reaction. But you know very well that big, sneaky fox is faking it. It was every time when Hisoka got bored in the morning, he'd pounce on you with his whole body to wake you up.
“Hisoka... I know you're awake. Get off me" you once again hoped it would help.
The red-haired fox is overly tactile, especially in the morning. He never misses an opportunity to take you into his arms while the two of you are snuggling in bed. But sometimes there are days like this one, when he unceremoniously lies on top of you with no plans to get up.
At your voice and the rustling of the sheets, your little cat came running in. He sat down on the bedside table and watched you.
Looking at this little ball of fur, you thought about the fact that you have two cats living at home. Both of them always need attention and care.
Still, even though Hisoka's nature is more like a fox. In the morning, he's like a cat looking for affection.
You shifted your gaze back to him. You ran your hand through his hair and gently ran it over his scalp, massaging it lightly, knowing how much he liked it.
“Hisoka, you're awake. Get off me, or at least move over a little. You're heavy" the third attempt this morning was successful.
He got off you and lay down next to you with his arm resting on his head. His golden eyes stared into yours, and he had his usual smirk on his face. He looked at the cat sitting on the table for a second, and as soon as cat saw Hisoka looking at him, he ran to him.
You always wondered if he was more fond of Hisoka, though he's a little prankster, more like his master than his mistress. Sometimes the two of them look at you with their golden eyes with the same squint, and it's annoying.
“Good morning" you said, while Hisoka looked at you and stroked the cat’s ear.
“Morning" Hisoka said sweetly, as usual, but with a hint of resentment.
You knew he was going to act offended now, because he doesn't like it when you ask him to get off your back. While you looked at each other, the redhead had managed to settle at the end of the bed and fall asleep. Your silence was interrupted by a sigh from Hisoka, who turned away from you. It was a trivial action of his in the morning when you didn't want to cuddle with him.
With a sniffle, you moved closer to him, running your fingers along his broad back, crossing over his ribs and tickling him lightly. All you got from Hisoka was a hum. You both know it's just a little mockery of each other, but it feels different every time. This time, there's more tenderness in your touch and more playfulness in his sighs.
“Hisoka, turn to me" you asked, knowing he wouldn't.
You climbed over him and lay down beside him. He looked at you, pretending he was still hurt.
“Fine, I know how you want to cuddle and" you weren't allowed to finish your sentence. Hisoka rolled over to the other side along with you in a hug.
“Okay, shh. Stop talking”.
You rolled your eyes. And accepted your fate of being almost strangled in man's arms.
Your sessions of affection can go on into the evening, until you slap Hisoka's ass and tell him it's time to get up. And as usual, you'll get an unwilling face that will follow you to the kitchen anyway.
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