#Finishing the year the same way I started it

[gutsby]

Stiff

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: At fifty-nine, Joel isn’t sure his dick can keep up with every day it’s going to take to get you pregnant. He seeks help from Jackson’s local apothecary and gets more than bargained for when that little blue pill kicks in.

Or, your old man wants to knock you up. Viagra helps.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v (obviously 😵‍💫🤙🏼). Breeding kink. Age gap. Peepaw Joel. Blue Pill Joel. Post-apocalyptic-Viagra-dosage-gone-horribly-wrong-and-now-his-dick-won’t-deflate-for-a-day…but it’s OK!

Note: This is the crackfic counterpart/sequel to ‘Make It Stick’

Word count: 2.9k

Forty-five minutes.

Forty-five minutes until his fate was sealed for the night. His pulse would quicken. His head would start to swim, and any last sliver of rational thought would be lost to the ether or the cold, snowy air around him. Joel Miller had to hurry now, because that bite-sized blue pill he’d just taken was in his belly, and if his dick didn’t find its way in you, he was fucked. Or at least huge and swollen and leaking out beads of hot desire the size of golf balls.

Well, maybe that was just his cock.

Joel looked down, scanning his pants.

Yeah…definitely just cock. He walked faster.

At home, he knew he’d find you curled up on the couch, nose in a book. What to Expect When You’re Expecting, if he had to guess. Then, sure enough, you’d lift your eyes and smile—‘Thank goodness you’re back, daddy’—and lift the hem of your night dress just slightly. Spread your legs and beckon him in. It was a nightly routine by now.

You wanted to be knocked up as fast as possible, after all

At almost sixty years old, Joel couldn’t believe he was actually saying these words aloud. But here he was—crawling overtop you on the couch, situating himself between your legs, and pulling his cock out, mumbling:

“Gonna let me put a baby in you tonight?”

You nodded sweetly—eagerly—every time.

Joel knew he could never resist that look. He was as good as finished the first second you let him sink inside your tight, weeping hole, and when he stretched it, he could already tell this was all he would ever want to do. Make you happy, fill you up, give you lots and lots of him.

It was why he’d stopped by the apothecary tonight. Why he’d hesitated only a moment before clearing his throat and asking for a pill like Viagra—Joel knew that the man behind the counter would flash him a wry, knowing grin.

Trouble keepin’ up with that sweet young thing’a yours?

David was a dick.

He wasn’t entirely wrong, either.

Ever since agreeing to start trying for a baby, Joel had become acutely aware of his own physical limitations in that department, and one of them was stamina. He could scarcely fuck twice in the same night without needing a long and rest-intensive breather. You were young and could roll over ready to go in five minutes.

It wasn’t fair to deprive you now on account of his age.

If you wanted his cum, you were getting it, no question.

Not just once, but multiple times. Again and again and—

“Again,” Joel grunted once he’d shot off his last spurt.

Fifty-eight minutes had passed since he’d taken that pill. It had fully kicked in, and his dick was still hard, even after finishing inside you with a sticky, white-hot flood.

You blinked dreamily up at him.

“You mean it, old man?” you teased him lightly.

I’ll show you what I mean, Joel thought to himself before flipping you over on the sofa. He had your hips tilted up and his cock driving back inside your freshly-fucked cunt in no time at all. He felt his spend coating your walls; it let him glide right in. Joel groaned and jerked himself back out, then fucked back in again and again and again.

“Again?”

Your word was exhaled in a laugh.

You stood in front of the bathroom sink, trying to tidy up the insides of your legs and push some more of Joel’s load back in, when you felt a presence at your back.

Stabbing your ass.

You started to turn then, puzzled.

“Bend over,” Joel commanded before you could.

You did as you were told because, frankly, you loved getting fucked wherever your old man wanted it—even if he had broken the sink one time he’d pounded you here.

But there was palpable confusion, too. How in the hell had Joel Miller, certified silver fox and owner of a dick old enough to remember Woodstock and the moon landing, managed to get his dick hard in the five minutes since he’d had you face-down, ass-up on the couch?

Or had his dick gotten soft at all?

You wanted to question him about it, or else give a long, hard look at his uncharacteristically long, hard friend, when the next moment had you gripping the counter. Stretching between the legs as Joel pushed back in.

“There she is,” he murmured affectionately.

Really, you’d never been wetter. Or warmer. Or filled to the brim with more sticky-white spend than you could ever hope to hold inside, it felt like. You bent at the waist and let him have his fill. You closed your eyes and rested your head on your forearms while Joel’s hot, bulbous tip grazed your cervix with dizzying alacrity. A smile crept in.

Whatever this was, you wanted more of it.

His dick was still hard.

Four mind-numbing fucks and another forty-five minutes later, Joel’s cock hadn’t deflated the tiniest bit.

The thing had hammered you so thoroughly he’d nearly destroyed the sink again. You’d whimpered, and whined, and warned him quietly, ‘We just fixed the porcelain, baby,’ and right before he’d painted your walls with his seed, you’d cum for him practically shrieking. Shaking.

Letting him turn you around for a kiss, only to mumble against his mouth with a sleepy, cockdrunk sort of lilt:

“I think you gave me twins.”

Then he’d fucked you in the shower to make it triplets.

Now you were laying out on the bed, truly spent, eyes following him in the semi-darkness of your bedroom after you’d toweled off and collapsed among the pillows.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, Miller?” you breathed.

Joel made it over to the dresser, back turned to you. He rifled through a drawer looking for something extra tight.

“Just missed you is all,” he said, shrugging.

What he needed right now was fabric that was very thick to hide the boner he was sporting. Joel could tell from the way you spoke that you were too tired for round five, and he didn’t want you feeling like you had to go again.

He would be fine.

His dick might not deflate until dawn, but that was okay.

“Wish you missed me like this every day,” you giggled.

When Joel turned around, he was shocked to find you sprawled out on the bed—hands between your legs.

There was a shy smile on your face.

“Baby…” he trailed off, watching your fingers flit through that sticky mess where he’d left it. Where you glistened.

Where you slid your index and middle fingers up and down your slit and drew circles on your clit, eyes shining.

“What? I missed you too,” you said, tone all faux protest.

You had no idea what you did to him when you talked like that. Especially when he was drowning in a state like this.

Hard as a rock.

Throbbing.

Needy.

Scarcely even knowing what he was doing, Joel found himself over by the foot of the bed in a second. Watching your every move with a wild, wipe-open stare he still couldn’t believe you found appealing. He swallowed.

He not only looked perverted, but he felt it, too. It rarely ever left his mind, save for the four or five seconds he spent in ecstasy emptying the contents of his balls inside your cunt, that he was his age, and you were yours. That perhaps the rest of Jackson was right, and he was wrong: he had no business being around a girl like you, much less getting off inside you every night. Was this really what you wanted? A bewildering mixture of guilt, lust, and love all circulated through his skull at that moment, and the longer he spent looking at your fingers, ogling the way you teased them through his cum between your legs, the more he felt certain he was bad.

No one corrupted a thing this sweet and got to call themselves good, anyway, he thought to himself idly.

“I keep gettin’ that…feelin’,” you said under your breath.

Joel’s hand tightened in a fist, and it was then that he realized it was wrapped around his cock. Still watching.

“Yeah, baby? What feelin’?” he returned, almost as quiet.

Still stroking himself up and down, up and down, softly.

You had your legs spread open—knees splayed wider than they’d been before. And your eyes had a tender, placid sheen to them, like they just might cry if they didn’t get release of some kind soon. Then you slowed.

Your touch slipped from your clit to the opaque, sticky globs between your thighs, and that look got even softer.

More desperate.

“Can’t…explain it.” You shook your head, as if pained, and then you sank two fingers inside. Joel could hear the tiny schlick from where he stood, and it almost did him in.

You sucked in a breath and added, “It’s a special feelin’.”

Joel’s fist had already worked its way up to a ridiculous speed. Again, he sensed this might be the worst and most pathetic he’d ever looked, but by the glint in your eyes and the way you kept holding him there, he also knew you weren’t asking him to stop, either. You were needing something else—something he could provide.

Thanks to that one stupid pill.

Joel’s smile was strained as he gripped the edge of the bed, like he was trying to assuage you and him at once.

“Try me, baby. Tell me ‘bout that special feelin’.”

Your middle and ring fingers disappeared inside you.

You whined, “Ain’t fair to say it now. You’re tired, daddy.”

Like hell he was. Joel crawled over the footboard and made his way straight to you, where your body was limp.

His breaths were coming in so fast and his pulse was thrumming so hard that he almost couldn’t hear himself talking. But he ventured to speak as gently as he could.

“I’m wide awake, sweet pea. I’m all ears. Talk to me.”

And if his words didn’t communicate as much, surely the look in his eyes would’ve told you all the rest. Quietly, he slipped his torso between your legs, where you’d inserted a third finger and were moving your hips again. You were fingering yourself, breathing shallow and quick.

“It’s a feelin’ like I wanna be…stuffed…a-and full’a you.”

Joel’s whole body could’ve liquified on the spot. His brain, presently, had all the consistency of a plate of scrambled eggs if he’d had to guess. Feeling his cock swell even bigger and his hips sink lower to yours of their own accord, he had only to grit his teeth and nod his head. He felt the tip of him bump your fingers, and the sensation and the expectation nearly drove him insane.

He mumbled quietly, “Then move your hand.”

You did. You winced again. You looked as though you might be ashamed for wanting him to fill you with his spend, and Joel simply wouldn’t allow that any longer.

Without saying another word, he slid back in.

Your cum and his facilitated the slide, and you opened right up for him. You whimpered, while Joel grunted like an animal. He couldn’t help it; it all felt so fucking primal.

How you could ever feel the need to apologize for wanting more of this was more than he could take.

“Every inch of me,” Joel said, rutting deeper, “is yours.”

He withdrew to the tip, and he could feel strings of arousal linking him to you in a sickeningly sweet way.

You could scarcely even nod, just waiting for him again.

When Joel plunged back in, he heard a feral little cry, and he felt your legs wrap around his waist. He went faster. You fisted the pillow behind your head in one hand, while the other laid flat on his chest, like you were checking for a heartbeat. You could probably hear it thudding a million miles per minute right now. Your hips collided in tandem.

“D— Daddy,” you whimpered.

“That’s it, open up for daddy. Good girl. It’s all yours.”

The sounds his thrusts were making were obscene.

“Every inch?” you breathed, “E-Every drop, too?”

“Every fiber of my fucking being, sweet girl.”

That made you smile, at length. Your hand slid from his chest, down his round belly, straight to a groin that was pounding hard and fast against your own. Joel groaned when he felt your touch sweep inside your legs—right in the space where his cum had come trickling out. You slid your fingers through that mess, then whimpered again.

Then you brought your hand up to your mouth.

You wrapped your lips around your cum-soaked fingers like they were the single sweetest thing, and you sucked.

Joel had no say after seeing that: he had to cum again.

It likely stunned you both—you more than him, by the look that crossed your eyes the second you felt him throb and pulse inside your cunt—but then it kept going.

Rather than stop, or slow down in the slightest, Joel found his hips pistoning faster than they had before. The whole bed frame shook, and your body trembled with every thrust, and the noises between your legs grew even louder; the sound of skin slapping skin was only amplified by the addition of Joel’s hot load in the mix.

The man was operating on impulse. You, through sheer awe and an animalistic need to have every crevice filled. You held him and you grit your teeth, and you let him keep using your body, while you used his. You kissed him.

“Go on, then—make me a daddy. Take my cum, baby,” Joel babbled, brainless, “Make your old man a daddy.”

He couldn’t tell if it were the words or the rhythm or the pleasure that had already been blossoming deep in your gut this whole time, but he felt you fall apart. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist than you had all night, and you screamed his name. Begged for more.

“Cum in me, daddy—pleasepleaseplease just cum, ju—”

And there he went. Again. Flooding your insides with his warmth and letting his cock carve a wild, relentless path through your cunt like it was all the man knew how to do. He filled you up. He felt it leaking down his length with every stab of his hips, and frankly, he didn’t care what he looked like now. You were smiling big, drawing him in for more kisses as he panted and grunted and whimpered like he never had before. He kissed back. Slowed down.

Found himself lost in your mouth as your tongue wove delectably through his own and your hands made their way to his wild, greying hair. You tugged, and he moaned.

He fucked his spend deeper without even meaning to.

All instinct again, it seemed he couldn’t get enough.

Suddenly, he felt a new, strange urge bubble up.

“I-I-I took a pill tonight,” he blurted out, “Know how badly you want this baby, and I wanna give you one.”

Or two. Or twenty. He was barely capable of speech, let alone rational cognition, so he just spoke whatever came to his mind then, still snug inside your legs and panting.

“A pill?” you whispered back.

Joel’s gaze locked with yours.

He felt stupid for it all at once.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just— I know I’m gettin’ on in years, and I probably can’t fuck the way I used to. And you deserve someone who can…Maybe a guy your age, but that—”

“—is the single dumbest thing you have ever said to me,” you finished for him, eyes narrowing swiftly in a scowl.

When Joel tried talking again, you cut him off.

“I don’t care what any guy my age is doing, or could do. I want babies with you, and that includes every part, OK?”

Your look softened momentarily, seeing his lips twitch down—you could probably see he wasn’t believing you.

Then you cradled his face in your palms. You smiled. You brushed his nose with yours, and you kissed him again, and with what little strength you likely had left in your body, you dug your heels in his ass and pulled him deeper. Both of you let out soft, low grunts at the effort.

“If you fucked like this at twenty-five, my body wouldn’t have survived anyway,” you whispered in reassurance. Biting back a laugh as Joel smiled, too, “I like things just the way they are. Just like how I hope you like me, too.”

“No—I love you.” Joel shook his head, almost plaintive.

And for the first time that night, he felt himself soften.

Whether it was the pill wearing off or that first thread of vulnerability stretching out between your body and his, he didn’t really care. He kissed the tip of your nose and was about to say something more, when you cut back in.

“I love you more. And since we’re being honest tonight,” you started quietly, nipping at your bottom lip a second, “I might…need you back at the apothecary tomorrow.”

Joel’s face fell.

“Wh— is something wrong, baby?” His voice was tight.

He hated seeing David, but, of course, he’d go back there in a heartbeat if it meant getting you the medication you needed. His stomach was starting to churn, when you reached up to hold his face again. You shook your head.

“No, no, Joel, I’m fine. But I may need prenatal vitamins.”

Now his eyes were going wide. His cheeks heated under your palms, and his cock twitched inside you, reflexively.

“You mean…” he murmured, unable to finish. Swallowing.

Beneath him, he saw you smile and nod.

He nearly choked hearing what followed:

“I meant to tell you earlier, but…my period’s a little late.”

[dizzyduck44]

So let me get this straight. This weekend

Lewis makes some sarcy comment about Lando losing the lead in the sprint.

Lando leads race start to last corner, dragging his teammates arse round in his DRS the whole way, to then gives up the win on the line against team orders.

Stewards went for a tea break during quali, arrived back for Q3.

Max gets given a single place grid drop, losing pole.

Max goes on the war path with George, squares up to him on the drivers parade, (insert swear word of choice where you think appropriate) “I hope you and your FIA buddies are happy”.

Oscar cuts the pit white line in front of Lewis and is under investigation before the cars make it to the grid. 😡

Race starts, Lewis jump starts, Lando nearly takes the lead at the first corner.

Esteban (who unbeknownst to anyone was driving his last race for Alpine) collides with Franco in the first corner.

Two corners later Lance Stroll drives into Alex and gets a 10 second penalty and 2 penalty points.

Lewis gets a 5 seconds penalty for the jump start.

Liam then gets a 10 second penalty and 2 penalty points for causing a collision.

Maybe from earlier contact Alex’s wing mirror decides to go solo and sits on the start finish straight.

FIA has a meltdown. They turn the pit straight into a disco light, yellow/green/yellow/green/yellow/green/yellow/green. Double yellow. We select double yellows. No back to single yellows. No we really think this should be a double yellow.

Meanwhile drivers are pottering around, Max is pumping in fastest laps, race continues until Valtteri takes out the mirror and makes a bad situation 30 times worse.

The FIA have to do something now right?

NO.

Because by now Max wants the world to burn and has started screaming he doesn’t think Lando lifted during the flag Hokey Cokey.

Well Max they ain’t got time to care about that, because Lewis and Carlos now have punctures.

Someone at the FIA remembers they employ a safety car driver for a reason and send him out.

Safety car goes through the pits so the debris can be moved. (This option was available to them 10 minutes earlier) and Lando nearly runs into the back of Lewis who suddenly slams on.

Calm decends for a few laps. Until. Yeah it’s Max again. “Anything from that yellow flag?” (Remember this later).

Safety car is coming in, cars seem confused about when Max will go. Max and Lando are on the radio saying the safety car lights are still on. Lando’s team tell him they aren’t.

We start racing.

Hell breaks loose.

The stewards decide that Lando didn’t lift during the double yellow, despite the fact they didn’t know what flag to put out, and it changed as he passed the sign. 10 second stop go penalty and 3 penalty points.

Now I am well aware there will have been people watching who have never even heard of this penalty. Apparently the last one given was 2018. For comparison, the FIA gave Max a 5 place grid drop for the same offence at the same track last year. The same year they allowed a tractor and Marshalls on the track in the pouring rain with no flags.

Lewis gets a second penalty, this time a drive through, again don’t see many of those, it’s normally penalty added to your race time. By now I swear they are just looking for penalties they haven’t handed out yet this weekend.

And a 10 second penalty and 2 penalty points for Alex for causing a collision as well.

Sergio also gets investigated for dangerous driving.

BUT WAIT

We then give George a 5 second penalty and a penalty point for driving too far behind the safety car.

Post race Max continues to rant about George and how he effectively begged for the grid penalty and decides now he was asking about Lando as he thought “he had got DRS from a back marker” and wanted to be sure that was why he caught up. Note earlier comments he asked TWICE about.

Lando with zero context of what the world has just seen, takes it hard and thinks he is responsible for the whole shit show.

Oscar gets given a reprimand for his earlier pit lane incident.

Ted Kravitz has confirmed that the lights on the top of the safety car did in fact go out. But the drivers can’t see them because of a spoiler on the back of the car! The ones underneath did in fact NOT go out.

AND THEN

Fans have found Ferrari might not have lifted during the double yellows either!!!!

Seriously when pissed off fans are more on top of data than the stewards, what is even the point?

The FIA need to realise they are there for the safety of the drivers, teams and spectators. This is the point the teams need to band together and address the FIA, what were you doing for 8 minutes with debris on the track? You’ve handed out one of the harshest penalties for a situation you created. Two drivers had punctures because of a situation you created.

Honestly I know Esteban won’t be on the grid in Abu Dhabi, Lewis seems to have zero motivation to do it. Unless you are McLaren, Ferrari, RB or Alpine do you even care about this race?

Seriously so many errors were made in the running of this race today I would say strike it from the record, but Zhou and Sauber got points!!!! And that would be far too cruel.

But I leave you with this thought. The FIA can stop a race and abandon it due to poor driving standards. Does this go both ways? Can drivers stop and abandon a race for poor stewarding standards? Today would have been a strong candidate.

[sweetblossomsss]

I’ll be back || CHOI SAN

Synopsis: You don’t understand what happened for him to suddenly disappear. You don’t understand why the police tells you there is no one by the name of Choi San— as if he never existed. You don’t understand why he came back to you, five years later.

WARNINGS: one shot, cursing, crying (lots), ANGST (my fav), fluff, happy ending, SMUT, rough sex, choking, pet name of baby to Y/N, drinking, drunkenness, throwing things, San was affiliated with a gang, Y/N owns a gun, oral (f receiving), mentions of San’s gruesome crimes, back and forth between Y/N and San (ish), Y/N take San back way too easily (lmao), throwing up (only once), I’m sure I’m missing some stuff just lmk.

Word Count: 12k Started: February 2024. Finished: Nov 29, 2024

Blossom’s Note: Hello my petals, hope all is good. Coming at you with a Choi San one shot. Title was inspired by 2pm’s I’ll be back (chefs kiss song). Story was inspired by both the song and the line in John Wick when the father told the son that in order for him to get out, he had to do the impossible. Please keep in mind that this is no where near the same as the movie nor will any killings be mentioned. Now grab some popcorn and a drink and enjoy!

PAST

Silence takes over the room while the distant, muffled voices of your neighbors outside your apartment speak amongst themselves in the hallway, radiating some noise in the room. Dogs in different apartments barked at them, alerting everyone in the complex that people are walking by. Soon the faint sounds of keys jiggling can be heard as they stepped into their respective home and then—complete silence.

The room was dimly lit by your lamp with a fading bulb on its last life—that you always forget to change. You laid on your stomach, resting your head on your arms that was propped on top of your cushioned pillow as you slowly kicked your legs up and down, staring into his eyes as if you were locked in a trance by his gaze.

His fingers traced caressing patterns on your back, making you bit your lower lip gently as you felt the goosebumps form on your skin. He was lying on his side, his hand propped up to hold his head as he other hand roamed your back lovingly.

He gives you a small smirk, nodding his head to signal you to get on top of him. “Come here.” He said in a low voice as he laid on his back, placing an arm behind his head to get a good view of you on top. His favorite view.

You felt giddy inside, smiling as you got up. You quickly threw a leg over, straddling him. He wasted no time in gliding his free hand from your thigh to your ass giving it a slight squeeze. You placed your hands on his chest for support to which he slide the same hand up your arm and cups the side of your face.

You two stare into each other, all mesmerized as he caressed your cheek with his thumb causing you to lean into his touch. You closed your eyes, feeling the comforting warmth of his hand radiating on your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said in a sweet voice. You opened your eyes to catch him already looking into your eyes. “I could stay in this moment forever,” he said watching you slightly turn to the side as you kissed his palm. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him as you ghost your lips over his, “Just you and me.”

Oh, the way your stomach flips at his words especially when he talks in a low tone. He removes the hand behind his head, placing both of them under your shirt wanting to feel your skin, scrunching up your oversized shirt a little bit from his caressing movements.

You hummed in agreement, “Just you and me.” You repeated, pecking his lips once, “Forever.” You said before leaning back down to capture his lips. You feel his strong arms wrap around your waist, wanting to feel you closer—if that was even possible.

You moan slightly into his mouth, feeling the kiss starting to pick up. He cups your ass, giving it a nice squeeze as you raised your hand up to his hair tugging slightly making him moan in delight. Just as this moment was starting to heat up and get spicy—“Let’s runaway.” He breaks the kiss.

You looked at him, he was panting slightly trying to catch his breath as his eyes gleamed a bit. You panted as you sat up, tilting your head to the side, “What?” You asked with a playful smile on your lips as you furrowed your eyebrows.

Did he really leave you hot and bothered to say some stupid shit? Leave it to San to cockblock the fuck out of the both of you with his random thoughts.

He sits up, adjusting himself underneath you as he wraps his arms around your waist again as your hands make home in his hair as you caressed it. “You heard me,” he said, “let’s runaway. Just you and me, mm? What do you think?” He said ask he peppered kissed on your neck.

You chuckled at his words, tilting your head more as he kept leaving kisses on your neck down to your collarbone, “what I think is that you’re dumb. Did you really stop us for that?” You laughed, reaching to cup his face as you looked down at him. He nodded, “I’m being serious!” He pouted at you.

You sighed. “Okay. Say we were to,” you say playing along with his idea,“where would we go?” You asked him, leaning down to kiss away his pout.

He looks back and forth between your eyes, smirking as he flips you onto your back causing you yelp in surprise. “Anywhere you want to go,” he grabs your legs, wanting to feel them wrapped around him, “Whatever you want,” He says leaning down to kiss you on your lips. “I’ll do it for you.” His kisses trail down to your jaw. “Anything you want.” Down your neck as he caressed your leg.

You licked your lips and slightly moan at the sensation. “Mmm, anything?” You asked him raising an eyebrow as you tilt your head to look at him. “Anything, baby.” He looked up from the crook of your neck.

You shook your head, “You’re so silly. You know we can’t do that.” You smiled at him but then turned serious, “Plus can you even afford me? I’m quite expensive.” You lifted your hand up, examining your nails acting all snobby like turning your head to the side.

He pauses for a second, sitting up. He scoffs, “Excuse me?” Hand on his chest feigning to be offended.

You looked at him and eyed him up and down, playfully judging him and shrugged, “I have expensive taste and demands that need to met.” You said crossing your arms.

“Hit me with whatever you want. I can afford it.” He extends his arms out to the side as if saying do-you-know-who-the-fuck-I-am.

You scoffed, eyeing him up and down, “I don’t want to work.”

“Done.”

“I want to be a housewife.”

“Done.”

“I want different color Lamborghinis to match my moods for the day.”

“Done.”

“I want a private chef. I want to be carried everywhere.”

“Done and done.”

You two stayed silent, looking at each other with a serious look before bursting into laughter. The laughter you two created sounded like the most beautiful music to your ears. You loved having these silly moments with him.

While the laughter subsided, San places his hands on each side of your head, leaning forward. ”Y/N,” He says, your hands slide up and down his muscular arms. “Let’s just do it, huh? We can go and get married,” He places a kiss on your lips, tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “we can have six kids-“

“Six?! The fuc-“ you cut him off with widen eyes, raising both of your eyebrows.

“They will have your sparkling eyes, your beautiful smile,” he cuts you off, ignoring you which caused you to roll your eyes, “they can have my nose, maybe my eyebrows or ears. We can raise them the best we can, we can put them sports, watch them get married, travel when they all leave the house, be the best grandparents ever-“ he cuts himself off as he clears his throat, feeling a bit saddened, but you’re too distracted by his story to catch onto it. “We can grow old together and be buried next to each other. With that, we stay together forever.”

You cup his cheek, “Seems like you got this all figured out, huh?” You smiled at him. “How did a girl like me get so lucky?”

“Oh, baby,” he said in a matter of factly tone, “With me you won’t have to think or worry about anything.” He smirked at you, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it.

There was a moment of silence as you two looked into each other’s eyes all in love. But then San got off of you which made you confused as you furrowed your eyebrows. “San? What are you doing?” You asked him, confused by his actions as his back faces you.

You sit up and sat in the middle of the bed, about to reach out of him but took your hand back abruptly when you saw San turning around and giving you a serious look. He suddenly gets down on one knee. “Y/N,” he said in a serious tone, causing you to cover your face as you fell back laughing, “San, what are you doing?” You asked him as you sat back up with a huge shock smile on your face.

“Y/N,” he repeats again. He inhales and exhales, closing his eyes before looking back into your eyes. “Baby the second my eyes laid on you, my heart knew that you were the one I wanted to spend forever with. I want to wake up and have your eyes be the first thing and the last thing I see. There aren’t enough words to describe the love I have for you.”

You feel yourself getting teary eyed as you scoff out a smile, not believing that he is doing this. “I know, I don’t have a ring right now, but trust me when I say that when I do get it, it will have the biggest gem that represents the immense love I have for you.” He said watching you sniff up your tears. “Will you marry me? Because I don’t want to do life without you.”

You gasped at his words, crying for a few moments before sniffing up your runny nose as you used the back of your hand to wipe your falling tears, “San,” your voice cracks out, as you placed a hand on your chest. “Yes!” You breathed out a smile, “Yes, I will marry you.”

He finally exhales a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Yes?” He asks you as he broke out into the biggest smile ever and you nodded quickly, “Yes, San, yes.” You repeated as he helped you stand up.

He picked up, you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist as he spins you both around in his arms. You leaned your forehead against his, “You scared me,” he said, “What took you so long in answering!”

You kissed his pout, “I’m sorry,” you laughed, “I had to make sure. You know I’m expensive.” You joked.

He gives you a deadpan look, “Really?” He said in a monotone voice causing you to burst out into laughter as you leaned your forehead against his again, cupping his face, “No, my idiot. I just couldn’t believe this was happening. I’m going to marry my soulmate. I’ve never been more sure in my life.”

“You’re the one for me,” he said looking into your eyes. If you weren’t so high from the moment, you could’ve sworn there was sadness in his eyes. “I just- I don’t want to wait anymore.” He cleared his throat, “You’re the one for me, Y/N.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he repeated himself.

After a minute, he clears his throat, “Now,” he says as he tosses you on the bed causing you to yell in shock as you sit up and give him a glare. He takes off his shirt and throws it somewhere behind him as he spreads your legs, ignoring the pissed off look you have with a smirk on his face, “Should we start with baby number one? Or will we get lucky and have triplets first round?”

“San-“ he cuts you with the smirk still etched on his face as he kissed you. He knew damn well you were gonna bring up the topic of six kids, but that’s for another time. Right now, he wants to cherish this moment with you. Just one last time.

You hated how easily he captivated you and how easy he had you under his finger. Without trying to break contact with you, his hand struggles to turn off the light as he taps everything but the switch. He groans in frustration as he sits up and slams the stupid button off causing you to laugh at his impatience. Finally, the light was off.

As he leans back down kissing you, he is mentally tattooing everything about you throughout the night—your lips, your melodic sounds, your breathing, your heartbeat, your gentle and rough touches, your curves— Just everything before it was time.

—

It was late at night as San stood near the bed, watching you sleep. He was dressed in all black, prepared to leave but not before he says goodbye to you. The sheer curtains let the moonlight seep in, casting on your face. The light snores you made were music to his ears. It cause him to gently chuckle bittersweetly as tears blurred his vision.

He remembered all the times you argued with him saying that he was liar, telling him that you don’t snore. It hurt knowing this would be last time hearing them— last time seeing you.

He slowly and gently takes steps to you, leaning down as he removes a few strand of hair from your face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispers to you, “I have to go.” He kisses your forehead gently, “I love you so, so much.”

He stiffed up a bit when he saw you stirring in your sleep but exhaled in relief when you stopped and went back to your light snores. He glanced at the clock on your night stand and read 3:00AM. It’s about that time. He looks down as he felt his tears coming in, “Please forgive me.” He pleads quietly, sniffing as he looks at you. “I’ll be back.”

One last kiss on the forehead and he slowly gets up and walks to the door. And just like a switch, he walked down the hall, sniffing up those tears as he moved his head side to side, cracking his neck as a more serious, deadly look appeared on his face as he disappeared from the apartment and into the night.

—

Ugh, you really have to change those sheer curtains that blocks absolutely nothing because right now the morning sun was shinning right in your eyes, stirring you awake. You leaned on your back, one arm covering your eyes while the other reached out to touch San but was met with a cold, empty side.

Eyes still covered, you moved your hand around to try and find his body but let’s be real, this was no California King size bed. Either he fell off the bed or simply, he isn’t here. You removed your arm from your eyes and turned to the side and confirmed that he wasn’t there.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you slowly sat up, bringing the blanket to cover your bare chest. “San?” You called out to him. Maybe he’s in the living room. You waited for a response but nothing.

You sighed as you removed the blanket off your body, shivering slightly from cool air as goosebumps formed on your skin. Maybe he didn’t hear me. You grabbed your shirt from off the floor, putting it on as you walked to the living room. “Sannie?” But you were met with an empty living room—an empty apartment.

You removed your tucked hair from your shirt as you pursed your lips, crossing your arms, “This man is going to be the death of me.” You didn’t think much of it—well, kind of— San does this all the time. Whether it was for work or hanging out with friends— whatever it may be, it was normal for him to do. Yes, you have gotten into multiple arguments over it. Yes, he says he will try. But there are times that he forgets to tell you—like today.

You walked back into the room grabbing your phone, unplugging it from the charger as you tapped on the screen but no notifications. “Really?” You sucked the back of your front teeth, feeling annoyed as you shook your head. You unlocked your phone and dialed his number, running a hand through your hair as you hear the dialing tone.

“The number you have dialed-“ you sighed in annoyance as you hung up the call, opening your messages. ‘Thanks for letting me know that you were leaving :)’ and a ‘call me when you can. Love you asshole.” You sent to him, but it came back as message failed. Great, now his phone died.

You threw your phone on bed, “Whatever.” You say as you walked out the room and headed to the bathroom as you started to get ready for the day. Another great thing about San is that he is not the most dependable with his phone. His phone is either dead or lost between the sofa cushions. He truly can’t pick a struggle.

But you know what, at the end of the day you love him and all his aggravating faults, no matter how many times you want to strangle him. That’s your fiancé. Indeed it is. And it has you smiling like an idiot as you brushed your teeth, looking at your reflection. You guess you’ll keep him.

—

As the day went on, it was still radio silent on San’s part. You kept checking, calling, texting but it was to no avail. San may be dumb when it comes to how he handles his phone and where he’s going and whatnot but he never fails to call you and let you know where he’s at or how he’s doing—even if that means calling from a strangers phone. Yes, you were confused that one time a random ass number kept calling you.

You couldn’t help but get this feeling that something is wrong, so here you are pulling up to his job and checking to see if he’s there. You parked and inhaled and exhaled, keeping the nerves at bay as you grabbed your things and headed out of your car.

‘The Tire Shop’ came into view as you made your way to the door. Maybe he’s busy and you’ll forgive him for now and yell at him later. As soon as you opened the door, you winced a bit at the car drill radiating throughout the shop as you looked at the men working on cars.

You watched as a man passed by you, rolling at tire to a car he’s fixing on, having the smell of oil and sweat fill up your nostrils. You gripped your purse strap as you looked around to spot if San was talking with someone or working on a car but nothing.

You were too caught up scanning for San that you didn’t even notice an older gentleman approaching you. “Ma’am?” He calls to your attention as he wipes his hands on a dirty rag, removing excess grease. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, sorry,” you chucked nervously, stepping a bit closer to him. “Yes. I’m looking for someone. Is San working today? Did he come in?” You asked.

He tilted his head to the side, giving you his ear as he gets a bit closer to you as the drill goes off again, “I’m sorry. Who?” He yelled through the sound, eyebrows furrowed.

“San. Choi San.” You repeated a bit louder, leaning in slightly to his ear. “H-Have you seen him?” You stuttered a bit, feeling nervous.

“Choi San?” He repeated with confusion in his tone, tilting his head in confusion. “I’m sorry but nobody of that name works here.” He said shaking his head, tucking in the dirty rang in his back pocket.

You froze, feeling your blood go cold. You let out a nervous laugh, “That’s impossible,” you said reaching into your purse and showing your lock screen. “He’s been working here for five years.” The man squints his eyes, adjusting his poor vision to see the photo of San. “Are you sure?” You asked him in disbelief.

He nods his head. “I’m sure, ma’am.” But seeing the desperation in your face, he sighs turning around to yell out to one of his coworker. The coworker stops and gives him a stank face of what-do-you-want? The man asks him if he’s heard of a Choi San working here but the coworker just shook his head, getting back to work.

“Well, there you have it. Is there anything else I can help you with today?” The gentleman asked you as your heart dropped.

—

You slammed that door open as you rushed out, fumbling with your car keys in hand as you made your way to the car. You slammed your car door shut as you gripped onto the steering wheel, “What the fuck is going on?” You asked yourself, with a shaky breath, hearing a high pitch ringing in your ears.

You looked at your purse that was still clinging onto your arm. You quickly opened it, rummaging through it as you searched for your phone, messing up password multiple times as you rushed to unlock it making you groan in frustration.

“Come on come on.” You whispered to yourself as you dialed his number waiting for him to pick up but it went straight to voicemail. “Fuck!” You screamed out as you threw your phone on the dashboard.

You leaned your face into your hands, feeling anger and confusion swimming in your mind. Are you going insane? What the fuck does this man mean that he’s never heard of a Choi San? You start to get flashbacks of when you dropped him off, him literally coming out of the shop, having lunch with him right outside on the benches— Just what in the fuck is going on?

Fuck this. You backed out and drove to the police station. You knew San like that back of your hand. From small details such as calling or texting, even if he doesn’t do it in the moment, he NEVER forgets. And now you’re being told that he has never worked there? For the past five years? Bullshit. Something bad is happening and you sure as hell aren’t going to waste anymore time.

—

You were spaced out thinking about the whereabouts of San as you sat in-front of a desk, waiting for an officer. You gnawed on your lower lip, bouncing your leg rapidly from the nerves. “Miss Y/N?” Your head snapped to the side to see a female officer approaching you with a comforting smile and water.

You stood up and shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Officer Lee.” She gestures to the seat you were in, “Please, sit.” She places the cup in front of you, mumbling a thank you to her as you took a sip of water.

“Thank you so much for meeting with me.” You tell her as you adjust yourself in the seat. “I just didn’t know what else to do and I just- I don’t-“ you felt overwhelmed, losing your words.

She reaches over the table and places a comforting hand on yours. “It’s okay. You did the right thing by coming here.” She smiles once more, removing her hand to grab a pen and opening her notepad. “Why don’t we break down your day today. From when you woke up to now.”

You nodded as you inhaled and exhale. You quickly got to work. You told her how you woke up and he wasn’t home, how he’s basically irresponsible with his phone, how his job all of a sudden tells you that he doesn’t work there. You also mentioned every single detail of San. From his hair to physique, his full name, date of birth, no family, all of his habits, photos of him—you didn’t even forget to mention how just last night he proposed to you.

Throughout this Officer Lee was jotting down everything you told her, asking some questions to expand on certain things. “And that’s everything I know.” You sighed in exhaustion, sniffing as you wiped some tears with tissue paper.

“It was perfect. You gave us all information possible to make this a clear and proper search.” She nodded as you as she closes her notepad and placing her pen down. “I know this is tough for you, but I can assure you that we will do our best to figure out what happened.”

You faced down with your eyes closed. “What if I’m being dramatic? But at the same time what if something happened to him? I just don’t know-“

“Listen to me,” She cuts you off. “You know San better than anyone. If you feel that something is off then something must be off, okay? Plus, one doesn’t suddenly not work at a place he’s been at for five years.” You sniffed and nodded at her.

She stands up, which causes you to also stand up, adjusting your purse on your shoulder. “In the meantime, go home and continue with your regular routine. I know it’s easier said than done, but please try. We will handle the rest and keep you updated.”

You nodded and shook her hand once more. “Thank you so much Officer Lee.” You tell her. “I very much appreciate it.” And with that you made your way out the station, pushing the door as you stepped out into the breezy night. You entered your car and leaned your head back, feeling a sob coming out once more. Where did you go, San?

—

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months since you last saw San. Every single day you call the police to get an update but it was the same fucking vague answers. It’s as if they rehearsed the same lines over and over just for you. You felt as if you were past the point of insanity.

All you just want to know is if San was alive or not. You just want to know if there was a single trace of him anywhere in this damn world— just something. All you just wanted a peace of mind.

Here you go again, on the phone with Officer Lee, who quite literally has the patience of an angel with the way you be calling everyday—some days with more attitude than usual. “Miss Y/N, as I have said before,” she sighed, “I don’t have anything. I will call you when-“

“When you have an update.” You finished the sentence with her. Today, you just so happen to have that attitude. “I know. I just-“ you cut yourself off as you sighed and rubbed your forehead, walking back and forth in your living room.

“I just want to know if you found anything. Even is that anything is so small, I don’t care. Just anything please.” You begged her. “Like why would he lie to me for the past five years about his job? Why would he propose to me and envision this life with me only for him to leave?” You asked her on the verge of tears, exhaling a shaky breath.

These are all the same questions you’ve been asking her for months. You sound like a broken record at this point, but what can you do? You never thought this would happen to you. Deep down you know the only one who can truly answer this was Choi San.

Officer Lee rubs her forehead, staying silent as she listens to you. She too feels heartbroken for you. “I’m sorry.” You whimpered out, sniffing. “I’m just desperate. I feel like I’m going insane. It’s been months and there’s no update. I don’t know what to do with my life anymore.” You vented to her, feeling your heart slowly break apart.

There was a long, long pause on the phone as you cried. Just as soon as you were going to ask if she was still there— she spoke. “Y/N, listen to me and listen closely because this will be the only time I will be mentioning this.” Officer Lee looks at her surroundings and figures there’s too many people so she heads to a vacant stairway.

You froze at her words. Her tone sounded completely different. “I’m not allowed to speak about this, but I can’t keep letting you live like this.” You froze at her words, “There is no record of Choi San.”

You opened your mouth but no words came out feeling completely confused as you shook your head in confusion. “A few months back, I was able to find something on him. Just a small trace of his location. He was seen walking around town, nothing too suspicious. But,” she pauses. You feel your heartbeat in your throat, “the following day when I went to check the video surveillance once more, it was gone. Wiped off. When I went to search him up, it said that there was no record of Choi San.“ She said. “It’s as if he never existed.”

Your heart dropped, you felt the room spinning. “Wh-What?” You managed to let out, “As if he ever existed?” You repeated her words in disbelief. “What? Why would anyone do that? Why would that even happen?”

Officer Lee looks up the stairs to check if anyone was coming and below before leaning her back on the wall. “Can I tell you something?” She whispered into the phone. She can sense the overwhelming feeling of hurt and confusion.

You closed your eyes, feeling tears falling down your face. You bit your lips, nodding even though she couldn’t see you. “Yes?” You answered quietly, feeling your fear taking over.

“As someone who has been working in this industry for a long time, it can only mean one thing,” she says, “this man was involved in something very dangerous.” You felt your knees give up as you held onto the sofa. “Whoever this Choi San is, he disappeared for a reason.”

“Who is he? What has been done?” You asked frantically, feeling the hairs stand behind your neck. Who did I lie in bed with?

She shook her head. “I don’t know.” She sounded defeated. Truthfully, she did not know. She knew that this was not the first time someone has just up and disappeared off the Earth. She knows that there are some evil deals made behind closed doors with the police department.

“Why would he do to me then? What am I supposed to do?” You asked her choking out a sob as you angrily wiped that tears off your face.

“If I were you, I would leave.” She said serious. You were taken aback. “Y/N, you don’t know this man. He is not the man you thought you knew. Trust me. Please. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.”

You felt numb at this point. What else can come in and ruin your life at this point? “I will call you if I have find something. Until then, please take care of yourself.” And with that you heard the hang up tone, leaving you alone once again.

You stood there in silence, dropping your arm down along with the phone. The sound of the phone hitting the floor rang in your ears. San? Dangerous? No. It can’t be. All of these thoughts rapidly came at you at once, making it seem like a million of voices are in your head.

Soon everything just went blank and something within you snapped. You went to the fireplace and hand swipe everything off the counter, screaming in anger. You cried in misery as you grabbed a picture frame and chucked it to the wall, watching the glass shatter at the impact.

You swiped everything off your dining table, flipping the table in frustration. His absence only worsen the betrayal you felt within your fucking bones. You stood in the middle of the living room starting to laugh. Laughing hysterically as tears dwelled in your eyes.

Everything you knew for the past five years was a lie. A waste of time. Your laughter subsided to agony as you fell to your knees, unable to control this painful heartache. You sobbed uncontrollably as you clutched onto your chest wanting to take this unbearable pain out of your heart.

Fucking San? A dangerous man? The same idiot who was afraid of flipping food over because he was afraid of the hot oil? The same idiot who would drink water from his hands because he was lazy to get a cup? The same idiot who wanted to raise a family with you? No. This can’t be happening.

You leaned forward, placing your hands on the floor as you leaned on them for support as your body shook from your cries. It hits you in that moment if he knew what he was asking when he asked you to runaway. All that you envisioned is gone, just like him.

—

It’s later in the night, and you’re in your kitchen drunkenly stumbling on your tippy toes as you kept your balance to reach into the top cabinet for yet another wine bottle. You finally reached it, popping open the bottle and pouring more in your glass. You take a sip as you close your eyes, feeling this temporary relief soak up in you.

You grabbed the bottle and turned to face the living room, eying the mess you created earlier. You’ll deal with it later, you thought to yourself as you took another sip, walking through the mess as you headed straight to your room.

You sat on your floor staring into the open closet with swollen, bloodshot eyes. You took a sip feeling your eyelids getting heavy from the crying and the alcohol. You placed the cup down, grabbing the bottle and poured some more wine without taking your sight off his side the closet.

Judging from how you heard the cup filling up to the brim, you stopped and placed the bottle down. You sighed as you licked your lips. Well, might as well start moving his shit out. You drunkenly got on your knees and crawled to the closet and sat on your knees.

You reached up and yanked off one of his shirts from the hanger, watch it swing from the harsh pull. You brought the material up to your nose, inhaling it. Though your nose maybe be stuffy from the crying, his scent was so strong. You bring it up to your cheek, wishing it was his touch— his warmth.

You opened your eyes to a blurred vision. No, no tears right now. You turned around and reached to grab your drink and took a few sips before placing it back down. You slowly stood up, feeling the liquor rushing down your legs as it controls your movements. Let’s start with something different.

You reached out to the top of the closet shelve, getting on your tippy toes and grabbed a stack full of boxes and miscellaneous things. But with your wobbly drunken self, and horrible grip, you ended up dropping it on the floor, causing you to yelp out as you moved back.

You opened your eyes and looked down to see that you spilled your drink and broken the glass, “Oh, great.” You pursed your lips, “Glad to see that I’m not the only one broken.” You say, making a half-assed joke. You sighed as you got on your knees and collected some of the big pieces. Thankfully your floor is carpet, all you have to do is wet-vac it.

You started to dry off some of his things but was stopped when you saw a black briefcase with a gold lock embedded on it. “What is this?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you grabbed it and used your hands to take off some of the wine droplets.

You sat comfortable and brought it the case closer for you to examine the lock. It was a four digit code. You grabbed your wine bottle, taking a big swig of it before you went to work on this lock. You bit your lower lip in concentration as you tried multiple combinations.

Shit, you even did the good ole 1, 2, 3, 4. Now listen, in your defense, while on one hand you can kill San, or whoever that man is right now, you always laughed at him for having the most basic password ever—to which he would get offended each time. So you couldn’t help but try it out at least one time.

But, man, you were stumped. Plus it doesn’t help that you were drunk so give yourself some slack. You take a sip and groaned out loud, “What could it even be..” you thought out. You then gasp as you quickly grabbed the case and placed in those four digits. Your birthday. And with that, it clicks open.

You scoffed out a smile, “Really?” Of course he would. “Stop it.” You scolded yourself, shaking your head at yourself. You exhaled, trying to calm the nerves. You slowly opened it, eyes widening at the sight of documents. But these weren’t just regular documents— these were gang afflicted documents.

Your drunken eyes roaming all over, you grabbed the papers out and stacked them, pushing the briefcase to the side. You then start to spread out the documents in front of you, eyes widening as they captured specific words.

You get on your knees as you further spread them out. You then fall back on your knees and parted your mouth in shock at the view in front of you. These documents were filled with gruesome attacks of people, some described chilling events that took place, plans of ambushes, details reports of deaths— you felt sick. What you take notice is that whoever wrote all of this, must’ve been so numb to the brutal killings that were executed.

You then notice a familiar signature at the bottom of the paper. “Oh my god..” you cover your mouth in shock. It was his signature. He did this. You dropped the paper and picked up the previous papers to only confirm what you had in mind. All of them had his signature. He did all of this.

You then turn to the side and saw orange envelope that was filled with what you could imagine more information. You grabbed it and opened it, but dropped it as you turned to the side feeling as if you were going to throw up. You coughed as you felt your throat closing up as you leaned on your hands for support as you hunched over.

“Oh, what the fuck!” You coughed out. Never in your life did you expect to see most nastiest, gruesome photos of bodies. You laid in bed with a freaking monster. You ran a hand through your hair as you looked back the photos you dropped.

You panted heavy as you picked a photo with San standing in the center as men surrounded him all shirtless. You looked closely and saw a snake tattoo that started on their ribs and to their chest. You then had a memory come in when you asked San about his tattoo but he shook his head saying it was nothing, how he thought it was cool when he was younger.

The look casted on San’s face was a rough looking demeanor that contradicts the San you knew—but then again everything did. You dropped your hand with the photograph still in your grasp as you spaced out for a second trying to process everything.

Officer Lee was right. You just didn’t want to believe it. You looked down as took in the gruesome that were spread out. You saw all the violence San created—all the blood, guts, chopped off body parts, one with San smiling over a body. You couldn’t contain it anymore and struggled your way to the bathroom, having the walls be your support as you made it to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet.

You can’t believe what your life has become.

—

PRESENT TIME, 5 YEARS LATER

"Alright, my little munchkins," Your voice full of warmness, "It's almost time to go home, let's start cleaning up!" You say to your first grade students as they in unison yelled out "Okay!" You heard the little chairs squeak against the floor as they got up preparing to leave.

They chatted amongst themselves as they worked together. You moved through the room, helping and guiding them when they had questions on where certain things go. As years have passed, you slowly rebuilt your life. You took joy in being a Pre-K teacher. The laughter and smiles from the kids help shed some light in the darkness that was roaming around you.

The kids eagerly grabbed their backpacks and jacket, helping some as you made some jokes with them causing them to giggle. They were filled with excitement knowing it was time to go home as they bounced in a file line by the door. You opened the doors seeing parents waiting outside.

One by one you watched as they left, the crowd of students getting smaller and smaller. You sighed as you closed your classroom door, stretching your neck. You organized the classroom some more, pushing in chairs, sweeping the floor, collecting left over materials and putting them in their respective place.

Finally, time to go home and shower the day off. You grabbed your purse, turned off the light and headed out the room. You lock your class room door and sighed as you take your hair out of the tight ponytail, running a hand through it.

For some reason you felt someone looking at you which made you look across the street to see a man all dressed in black standing still as he looked at you. You slowly subsided your steps, looking at this figure but with the sun and tall silver fence that wrapped around the school, it was hard to adjust on the face.

You watched as they slowly walked away, your gaze never leaving them until they are fully gone from your view. Well, that was fucking weird, you thought to yourself as you picked up the pace to your car, looking behind you every few seconds.

—

For five years you have done all that you could to forget Choi San and started anew. You blocked out everything you two shared. The memories, the empty promises, the relationship you two had—everything. You packed up your shit, got rid of everything that was San’s, and moved states. You changed your number, email, deleted any form of social media and accounts— you name it and it was gone.

To say you weren’t terrified would be a bold ass lie. You were petrified of the things San has done. Most importantly, what he could do to you. You were scared of him finding you. When you feel yourself slipping up, yearning for his love or him, you remind yourself of the deadly things this man did. He has no right to stay in your heart.

But we digressed. You slide the shower curtain open causing the steam to swirl around from your sudden movement. You bring your hair to the side, wringing out the excess water, and then slowly stepped of the tub carefully to not lose your balance. You dragged the towel off the rack and pat your self dry before wrapping it around you.

Tucking the excess at the top to make sure the towel doesn’t fall, you walked to your mirror and hand wiped the fog off. You started off with your nightly routine, wanting to just go to bed from all the exhaustion you had today. But just then as you spat out your toothpaste, you heard a faint creaking of wood in your living room.

You looked at the door and froze, feeling your heart quicken a bit at the sound. Maybe it was the upstairs neighbors. You shook your head as you opened the faucet and wiped the corners of your mouth. Maybe I just made the sound up.

But then the creaking noise comes back. You turned off the faucet, gently placing your ear and hands against the door, waiting for it once more. It’s silent—but you aren’t taking any chances.

You slowly pushed yourself off the door and crouched down to your sink cabinet. You quietly opened it and reached in and grabbed the gun that was attached to the roof of the cabinet. When you moved, you decided to arm yourself as a form of protection.

You stood up and cocked the gun back. Your free hand wrapped around the door knob, inhaling and exhaling before slowly opening it. The creaking of the door opening added to the eeriness of the silence. Goosebumps formed on your skin as a gush of cool air from the hallway hits your skin.

You raised the gun up while your other hand supported it from underneath as you walked down the hall. The mist leaving the bathroom was conforming with the fresh air, disappearing behind you as you made your way down the hallway. Your steps thudded as you got closer, faint sounds of water droplets from your hair coming in contact with the floor.

You quickly turned the corner, scanning the living room as the gun followed your eye movements. Your breathing filled up your ears as your eyes moved quickly to every shadow or movement you suspected was something, which only added to your adrenaline.

Then finally, the creaking noise made your ears twitch and this time it was clear where it was coming from. You pointed the gun to the kitchen, tightening the grip. “Show yourself.” You commanded, voice full of anger.

Soon a man slowly emerges from the dark shadows with his hands up. Your eyes widened for a second but you kept your composure, “Who are you?” A slight shaky tone gave away the fear coursing in your body. All you saw was his body as the darkness covered his face.

Slowly he dropped his hands, standing still. “Answer me.” You demanded, heart beating up to your ears.

And with that he takes a step forward and with one look at the face, everything comes crumbling down. “S-San?” You gasped in disbelief, eyes widening at the sight of him, mouth parting.

“Y/N,” he said in a low voice. Oh my god. “It’s me.” It’s really him. The voice you longed to hear after five years. The person you missed desperately. The person who was your forever. He held his gaze with yours as he walked to you.

You felt your arms slowly dropping as you stood in shock. You couldn’t believe he’s here face to face. You want to hold him—wait— “Don’t fucking move.” You tell him as you quickly regained your composure. He freezes at your words. He is not the person you thought you knew.

“Y/N,” his voice broke, eyes full of sorrow. “Please. I know I fucked up.” He tries taking a step forward. Fucked up is an understatement.

“Don’t fucking move!” You yell at him, taking a step forward, gun pointed at him causing him to take a step back. “I’ll shoot you.” You tell him.

His eyes widen at your words. “Y/N,” he whispers as tears start dwelling in his eyes. “I know you’re upset, but please let me explain-“

“Upset?” You cut him off with a humorless laugh. “You fucking asshole. You ruined me! You hurt me in ways I didn’t even know was possible.” You spat at him. “You left me. No— You disappeared. Come to find out you’re nothing but a sick piece of inhumane shit murderer.”

“Let me explain, Y/N. It’s not what you think.” He tells you as he takes a step forward to you. His heart drops at the way you look at him. He knows the damage he has done. He knows that it might be late to salvage whatever is left but he would be damn if he gives up to easily.

The two of you moved around in circles in your living room. Him wanting to hold you, to feel your warmth and to explain everything but you wanting nothing to do with him as you moved away from him. His voice broke as he spoke, “Baby, please-“

“Don’t!” You cut him off, feeling the hot tears falling down your cheeks. “Don’t call me that. You don’t get to show up five years later and try to make up for all the bullshit you put me through.” You tell him as you two finally stopped moving.

You watched as he cried, looking in pain. “Leave. Never come back. You’re five years too late, asshole. I want nothing from you.” You tell him angrily. There was a pause of works between you two, all you could hear was the cries. Your vision blurred by your tears as you stared into his regretful eyes.

San couldn’t contain it anymore. He walks up to you, making you gasp in shock as you walked backwards, bumping into the wall arms still extended out. You felt a slight push from the gun when its cold metal was pressed on his chest. “I have killed men.” He starts to explain what you saw in the photos. “Those men you saw in the photos have done most vile, disgusting things to people. Things that would keep you up at night.” He whispers at the end.

He clears his throat, “Let me explain,” he pleads. “Let me explain and then I’ll leave. I’ll do whatever you ask of me but please, Y/N…”

You fucking trembled as you let out a sob. He sighs in relief as he raised his hands, enclosing them on yours as he gently removed the gun from your hands. You don’t even fight it, you just hug yourself. He removes the ammo and cocks back the gun watching the bullet jump out, dropping the gun to the floor.

The thud made you jump back, wishing the wall would engulf you and would disappear. Slowly he raised his hands to your shoulders, causing you to look away in fright. You swallowed your nerves as you stiffened a bit, feeling his hands rising up to cup your face, making you turn to face him.

He leans his forehead on yours, sliding his hands from your face down your arms, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as he pressed gentle kisses on your knuckles. He places your hands on his cheeks and leans into your touch, let out a shaky sigh of relief. Enjoying your warmth, missing your touch.

You stood there as you took in his gentle gestures. No matter how much you tried to deny it, you fucking missed him. You missed everything so much, but can’t fall for this. You removed your hands from his touch and looked at him in anger. He fucking left you.

You shoved his chest with all your force, watching him stumble backwards. He looked at you in shock. There was a moment of silence before you walked up to him and started pounding him on his chest, hitting him as you released everything you’ve been suppressing for the past five years.

“How could you do this to me?!” You screamed at him. “Who the fuck are you? Why would you come into my life if you were just going to disappear?” He stood there, taking it from you knowing that he deserves this and more.

You slapped him so hard across the face, making him almost lose his balance. “Okay,” he said groaning out in pain as he adjusted his jaw, feeling that burning sensation. “I deserved that.”

You shoved him once more. “I gave you everything.” You told him, panting heavily. “I fucking loved you. You were my everything. We were going to get married and have this life together.” You cried to him. You placed your hands on your head, feeling as if you were going crazy, “I just want to know why.” You shook your head, “Why, San?”

“Baby,” he tells you and you just close your eyes not wanting to hear the pet name he had for you. “I-“ he tried finding the words. “I was involved in something that I never, ever wanted you to find out. I know, sounds hypocritical considering you found the documents and pictures and for that I’m sorry. I genuinely forgot to take the case because- because-“ he sighs as he shakes his head, cutting himself off to change the topic.

You stayed quiet as you looked at him. He sniffed, “I have done terrible, terrible things.” You watched as he looks down and then back up to you, “But I had no choice.” He tells you as he got closer to you, grabbing your hands as he brings them to his lips once more “Part of what I did was something I needed to do in order to get out.” He places a kiss on your hands, looking at you. “In order to be with you.”

You wanted to stay silent. You didn’t want to know but your curiosity betrayed you, “What-“ you let out a shaky breath, “What did you have to do?” You said quietly.

He leans his forehead on your hands, not being able to look at you when he confesses. “In order to get out—to show my loyalty to them and to prove I was done with that life— I had to kill very important people.”

You took your hands from his grasp and looked to the side as you covered your mouth, not being able to look at him. “Oh my god.” You whimpered out.

“Baby, please, it was the only way for me to get out of this life that I didn’t even want to be to begin with.” He says, searching for your eyes. “But that was the only way for me to survive. Once I was in, there was no easy way out.”

He cups your face and wipes your tears, “But when I saw you,” he lets out chuckle with tears streaming down, “I’ll never forget when I first laid my eyes on you. I knew from the bottom of my heart I wanted to be with you,” he looked into your eyes, “I did what I did to be with you. I would do it a thousand times over for you. Because I love you.”

You closed your eyes, whimpering as he kept going on. “I left because I wanted to live a free life from all that shit. I left because I wanted to live in peace with you. Listen,” he cups your face, making you look directly at him, “the men I killed deserved all I did. They have hurt innocent people. Woman, children, Y/N, they don’t care who it was. Scumbags like that deserved to be punished.”

He fell to knees, placing gentle tender kisses on your thighs. “I was so, so afraid of losing you that I hid everything from you. I fucked up for not telling you but I was just trying to protect you.” He cries out as he leans his forehead on your thighs.

He wraps his arms around your legs, “I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry for leaving you. I’m so sorry for all the misery I have caused you. I promise you, I was done. But-” he fumbled with his words, “But someone informed me that they were looking for me to get revenge. To get back at me for all I did to those people.”

He looks up at you, “And I just—… I could never live with myself if they killed you.So I decided to just leave and disappear before they found you with me.” He caresses the back of your thighs as he leaned his forehead once more on your thighs. “I thought it would be better this way. I paid off the men at my job to lie to you if you showed up. I threw my phone away. I had all of my records cleared off the database. I just couldn’t risk anyone having single link of you from me. ”

Your sobs filled the room as you take in all his words. This man who went from your lover to a stranger to now you being conflicted. You watched as he stood up, cupping your face once more. “For the past five years, I never once let you out my sight.” He confesses.

It then hits you. “Was that you today?” You asked him and he nodded.

“It fucking broke me watching you from the distance but please, Y/N, understand it was for your protection.” He tells you.

You held onto his wrists, “San,” you licked your lips as you closed your eyes. “I just- I don’t know what to think or what to do.” You sniffed as you opened your eyes and looked at him. “Why now? Why now after all these years did you decide to come back?“

“I’m free,” he whispered to you, “I took care of everything.” He tells you and you felt a shiver go down your spine as you gulped. “Listen to me, they deserved it.” You remove his hands, feeling sick as you remembered the photos and documents.

He sighs in defeat. “Y/N, the things they have done to others,” he shakes his head, “it’s indescribable. What I did to them isn’t even half of what they have done.” That makes you feel even more in shock. Those photos and detailing was already horrible enough, you can’t imagine what they did to others.

You looked at the floor thinking. Does it kind of make you feel better that San basically did justice in killing bad guys? You don’t know. Are you trying to make an excuse? You don’t know. But one thing is certain, you were afraid. You looked at him as you let out a shaky breath, “Would you ever… hurt me?” You hesitantly asked him.

You saw as his face broke at your question. His heart dropped at your words. “What?” He whispered out. “I would never, ever do such a thing to you. You’re the love of my life. The reason I woke up and did what I did for the past five years just so I can be with you again. Y/N you changed me for the better.” He grabs your hand and placed it on his chest. “This is for you.” He says as you feel his heart beat, insinuating that it beats for you and only you.

“The man you saw in the photos and read in the documents that’s not me anymore. I gave up that life for you. I wanted to change for you. I love you, Y/N, believe that.” He pulls you to him as he cups your face once more.

You planned to never see San ever again in your life. As a matter of fact you wanted to kill him if he ever came across your way. But now listening to him and him explaining, granted he needs more explains to do, you can’t help but fucking want him again in your life. You fucking missed him.

You let out a whimper. “San,” you say, “I hate you so much. I hate that I missed you. I hate that I still love you.” You squeezed his wrists. San lets out a sad chuckle at your word, “I hate myself too. I hate for leaving you and for hurting you.”

You softly hit his chest once as you cried, not having any strength left in your body. You looked up at him, “Are you going to leave me again?” You asked him with tears in your eyes, in a broken voice that was full of pain.

He leans his forehead on yours, “Never. I will never leave you again.” You felt his rough hands roaming up and down your arms, giving you goosebumps. You bit your lower lip—fuck. It’s as if nothing has changed for the past five years. You just give into him so easily.

You looked into his eyes, love and lust swirling around. “Please,” he said lowly, as he wiped your tears with his thumbs, “Let me take care of you tonight.” He places a kiss below your ear, “Let me show you how sorry I am.” He trails kisses down your neck, “How much I’ve missed you.” He hovers his lips over yours.

You let out a sigh of satisfaction from his touches. You slightly nodded as you looked into his eyes. He leans in and captures your lips, you melted into his touch. He wasted no time in picking you up causing you to wrap your legs around him.

You gently tugged his hair as the kiss started to heat up. He glided a hand up your back, tugging your head back by your hair as he trails kisses down your neck to your collarbone. You let out a moan when he starts sucking on that sweet spot. You look back down to him and kissed him again.

“Mmm, where is the room?” He broke the kiss, panting slightly as he catches his breath. “Down the hall.” You whispered, panting as well.

—

He burst into the bedroom, both of you still in the heated kiss, closing the door with his leg as he walked and threw you on the bed. “San!” You yelped out in shock. You sat up as you clutched the towel that still covered your body, giving him an angry look as he hovers over you, “Don’t do that shi-“

He cuts you off with a kiss, “I’m sorry, baby.” He whispers to you, gently pushing you to lay back down on the bed, “I’ll be careful, okay?” He whispers in your ear, kissing below it. Bullshit but okay. Nice to know that something’s don’t change.

He sat up as he takes off his shirt, throwing it somewhere behind him as he leans back down to kiss you. You unconsciously roam your hands all over his muscular arms, squeezing them as he grinds his clothes hard member against your bare throbbing, achy pussy.

His lips slowly moves down and stops at the top of your towel. He takes his forefinger and slowly drags it from your lips down to neck and between your breast. He never once took his eyes off you as he slowly unravels your towel. He looked at you as if you were a meal—starving and craving you for the past five years.

He leans down and latches onto your nipple while massaging the other one causing you to arch your back as you clench you pussy onto nothing. He exhaled a sigh of relief through his nose as his tongue flicks your harden nipple. He switches from one breast to the other.

He trails the kisses down your stomach making you inhale and exhale at his trailing wet kisses, making you excited for what’s to come. He gets off the bed, kneeling on the floor between your legs, hooking his arms underneath your legs as he drags you closer to him.

He places your thighs on his shoulders, kissing your inner thighs as he eyes your glistening pussy. His hands caress your thighs up and down. “San, please.” You begged to him, turning your head to the side in desperation as your chest heaves at his actions.

“Shh, baby, just relax.” His hot breath hovers over your throbbing area, making you clench once more. “Let me handle it, okay?” He asks you and watched as you nodded frantically causing him to smirk.

He then sucks on your clit, slightly hollowing his cheeks from the suction as he flicks his tongue on your sensitive bud. You let out a moan as he lays his tongue flat, moving his head up and down. You gripped on his head, using your free one to grip the sheets. The sounds of suction adds to your pleasure.

He reaches over your thighs, spreading your folds wasting no time to fuck you with his tongue. San swears this is the most beautiful state he has seen you in. Screaming as you arch your back, unable to deal with the pleasure as it takes over you.

He moves his tongue in and out your hole, feeling you clench around him. He moves his tongue all around your folds before going back in. He then freed one hand and uses his thumb to rub small circles on your clit. “Shit.” You breathed out turning your head side to side, gasping.

He freed his other hand and sticks in two fingers, curved upward, moving at a medium pace. “O-Oh!” You moaned out, throwing your head back as your mouth parts in delight, “Ri-Right there!” You gripped the pillow on either side of your head.

He continues the rubbing and fingering as he looks at you. His cheeks hurt but he doesn’t fucking care. “I missed you so much baby.” He said in a deep voice, “I’ve dreamt of this everyday for the past five years.”

He places a kiss on your inner thigh. “Can you cum for me?” He asked you before getting back down. He quickens the pace, sucking the lower half of your clit as he uses his thumb to rub the top part rapidly, adding pressure to it.

You screamed out his name as a mantra. “San! San, I’m going to cum!” You said as you looked down at him before throwing your head back. You clamped his head trapped between your thighs, feeling your orgasm building up. You fisted his hair as you breathed heavy.

“Shit! Shit!” You say as you screamed out as you reached your orgasm. All the built up emotions just released in that moment as you felt like you saw stars. You breathed out uncontrollably as he help you ride out your high with his fingers and mouth. Your shaky legs let go of the grip it had on his head as you tried collecting yourself.

He stands up and removes his pants and boxers in one go, watching you all fucked out on the bed. His member was leaking with precum, eager to feel you and to fill you up all deliciously. He hovers of you, getting between your legs, “You okay, baby?” He asks you.

“Yeah,” You breathed out as you lazily wrapped your arms over his neck, “That was amazing.” You lazily smile which caused him chuckle. You pull him to you, kissing him as you tasted yourself on his lips.

He pulls back, “Are you ready?” He asked you. You nodded at him, “Yes.” You whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist. He moves to his hand to align himself, both of you remaining eye contact. You closed your eyes as you feel his tip going in and then him full stretching you out. He drops his head down, feeling the tightness engulf him.

He takes a moment for you both, taking in the sensation. You can’t help but to clench down at him, enjoying this longed for feeling. He slowly starts to thrust back and forth, biting his lower lip. “Oh.” You moaned out in pleasure and a slight stinging pain from the stretching.

He kisses your lips. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.” He comforts you through the slight pain. “Are you gonna take what I give you?” He asked causing you to flutter your eyes open at him.

“Anything you give me, I’ll take it.” You nodded at him. As soon as you gave him the permission, he puts his hands behind your knees, moving them up to the sides of your head. He starts pounding in you causing him to groan out in delight as he closes his eyes, throwing his head back.

The position made you feel his rough thrusts deeper causing you to scream. The bed frame started hitting again the wall from how hard he was going. “You like that baby?” He asked you looking back down at you.

“Ye-Yes-s!” You managed to choke out. Your tits bounced from his actions as you tried finding something to grip onto, feeling overwhelmed. You then let out a gasp when you felt him dropping your legs, turning you to lay on your stomach.

He drags your hips up, quickly inserting himself back in as his hand forces to arch your back. He smacks your ass which makes you moan out, loving the stinging. “Touch yourself for me, baby.” He says. You adjusted yourself on your arm as you reached out and rubbed circles on your clit. The rubbing makes you clench on him, “Fuck,” he moans out, bed creaking underneath you both. “Fucking love when you do that.”

He then grabs a fist of your hair, pulling your head back. You whimpered at the pulling as he smacks your ass again. You whined as you bit your lower lip, loving how his balls smack against your clit. “You’re mine.” He leans down and whispers in your ear, hand sliding to your neck, squeezing it. “All mine.”

“All yours, San.” You say with the little air you have in your body. You then leaned forward when he lets go of you, gasping for air. But you have no time to compose yourself as he turns you around one last time, laying you on your back.

“Cum with me.” He tells you, rapidly thrusting into you. Your hands reached to his back, scratching it deeply as he rubs your clit. His balls hitting your ass as he tries chasing his high, letting out a low groan.

All the sounds from skin slapping to the bed frame legit about to break added to the electrifying atmosphere. He reaches up and holds your jaw in place, “I'm gonna cum.” You tell him. “Me too, baby. Cum with me.” He tells you as he leans down and kisses you.

A few more strokes and you both are moaning into each other’s mouths as you both came at the same time. He paints your walls white as his hips movements slowly starts to subside, riding out both of your highs. He collapses on top of you, both of you panting heavy. Hot, sweaty sticky bodies in each other’s embrace. Your hand reaches up and caresses his sweaty hair. “I love you.” He tells you as you feel the vibration in the crook of your neck.

“I love you too.” You tell him as you stare off to the ceiling, slowly closing your eyes as you felt the exhaustion take over, caressing movements subsiding in his hair.

—

You wake up with the sun shining in your eyes. You scrunched up your face as you turned away from the light, reaching out to feel San. You shot your eyes open when you didn’t feel him there. No, not again. You sit up straight, looking at the empty spot. “San?” You called out, looking out the door way— nothing answers you back.

You remove the covers off you hastily, ignoring the overall soreness in your body as you walked to your drawer grabbing underwear and oversize shirt. You quickly put them on as you walked out the room, “San- Oh.” You called out once more as you walked down the hallway but stopped abruptly in your steps.

All your overwhelming emotions flushed away when you saw San cooking in the kitchen. “Ah!” He screamed out in pain when a small drop of oil jumped onto his skin. You covered your mouth when you saw how he was standing— body arm length away, hips pushed out, completely away from the pan as his arms are extended out. One hand holds a fork and the other holding the handle of the pot.

Through the sizzling, San heard your chuckle, causing him to snap his head towards you. “The stupid oil burned me again!” He said with a pout.

You sighed out a chuckle as you shook your head. “Let me do it, you big baby.” You said smiling as you walked to him. You take the fork from his hand and flipped some bacon pieces. He crossed his arms, “I’m not a big baby.” He said in a whining tone.

You snorted. “Sure.” You say, eyeing the bacon as you smiled. “You have the temperature too hig-“ You froze in your words when you saw a ring on your ringer finger with a huge diamond on it. How did you miss this big ass rock?

You then felt arms wrap around your waist from behind, lips kissing on your neck. You let out a shocked scoff as you felt tears dwelling in. “I told you I was going to get you a ring with a big gem on it.” He smiles into the kisses on your neck.

You turned to him with tears falling down your cheeks. He smiles at your reaction, cupping your face as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears. “I love you.” You whispered to him.

“I love you so much more.” He tells you. “I promise I will make up for all my mistakes. You’re my life, Y/N. I will prove it to you.” He knows it’s going to take a long time before you fully trust him again, but this a first step for that.

After a moment of silence he grab your chin and places a few more kisses on your lips. “So,” he whispers which you hummed in response, “why don’t we start on those six kids, mm?”

You rolled your eyes, swiping his hand off your chin turning to focus on the bacon. “We are not having six kids, San!” You tell him, giving him a glare over your shoulder. You looked at the bacon and smirked, “Maybe we will have them when you stop being scared over cooking oil.” You teased him.

He let out an offended gasp. “Excuse me?!” He put a hand over his chest. He pursed his lips as he hip bumps you out the way and sassily takes the fork out of your hand. “Watch. I’m not scared of some stupid oil.” His voice trembling through the fake confidence.

He flinched slightly when he sees the oiling jumping all over the place causing you to burst out in laughter. You placed a kiss on his cheek, patting his back. “Sure baby.” You say crossing your arms as you leaned back on the counter.

He then shouts once more , dropping the fork on the counter when the oil jumped on his skin. “Forget it!” He said walking away with attitude which made you stifle a laugh.

He stops in his steps and turns around, a smirk growing on his face. He walks to you, “What are you doing?” You asked him as you stood up, standing with your guard up. He bends down and throws you over his shoulder as he heads to the bedroom. “We can start with one.” He said as you yelled at him to put you down as he smacked your ass. You don’t see it but you two are smiling at each other’s actions.

THE END

[tfgalore]

SwapCorp: Theo

Most people didn’t believe in swaps. Theo was among the many who thought that SwapCorp, a new company claiming to be able to transfer people’s consciousness across bodies, was a complete hoax. But that didn’t stop him from hearing about it daily. Even as he finished up his pull-ups at the gym, the TV that sat in the corner was blaring out some news about it. They were mainly criticisms of the companies shadier transactions and an investigation into where exactly SwapCorp got the young, youthful hunks it seemed to specialise in. There were even reports of criminals using the bodies to get a fresh start.

Theo shrugged it off though. That will never happen to me, he thought to himself, happy to keep pumping iron. Little did Theo know, SwapCorp’s nefarious intentions was going to hit a lot closer to home than he thought.

The hunk had forgotten all about SwapCorp on his walk home. A silent midnight, with nobody around. The perfect spot for a kidnapping. It was faster than Theo could realise. There was rush of footsteps behind him, and a sudden sting in his neck before he could even turn.

“Hey! What the hell?” Theo whipped around to see a thick, burly figure standing in front of him. He couldn’t make out the man’s face though. Like the rest of his world, the man’s face swirled into a mix of colours. The fast acting drugs already coursed through Theo, knocking the jock unconscious within seconds.

“Target acquired. Preparing for transport.” The words echoed through Theo’s head, seconds before he passed out.

The next time Theo awoke, the damage had already been done. His bones ached. His muscles felt pathetically weak. It took all of his strength to even sit up. His palms spread out across the soft sheets he laid in, and that’s when Theo got his first shock. The back of his hands were wrinkled, the skin looked more like aged parchment compared to the usual veiny and toned hands he sported.

“What the-“ Theo croaked on a voice he didn’t recognize. It was grained and higher pitched, nothing like the sultry, treble tone that he’d used to seduce plenty of girls in the past. His first instinct was to shoot out of bed and find out what was going on, yet everything ached again as he tried to move. His knees felt like they were on the verge of giving out.

Theo’s eyes darted across the room, looking for clues. He seemed to be in a bedroom. An old, well furnished room that reminded him of his past childhood home even. Theo’s eyes brushed across the mirror. And then they shot back. Where he expected to see himself in bed, there was a 50 year old male looking back. He wore the same shocked expression Theo was making.

“Who are you?” Theo yelled. The man yelled too. That’s when it hit Theo. The man in the mirror was him! Somehow, he had aged 30+ years. Gone was his youthful and stunning features, worn away by age. He looked too different to be himself though, Theo recognised. He brought trembling hand up to his head. There were signs of balding, his hair was a snow-white instead of his usual coiffed and rugged black.

This has to be a dream! There was no way that could be him! Theo’s mind raced with rationalisations. Maybe he’d worked too hard at the gym and caused himself to pass out. Resulting in this crazy fever dream…

“Ah, good, you’re awake.” The voice snapped Theo out of his stupor. A man in a business suit walked in. And right on his heels, Theo entered next! Or at least, Theo’s body did. It was a mindfuck for the jock to see his own cocky smirk staring back at him. Whoever it was, was wearing a sleeveless tanktop, and was grinning from ear to ear.

“What’s going on here!? Where the fuck am I?!” Theo yelled, which came out in a course and croaky tone. Even his vocal cords sounded aged.

“Mr Stone, please take it easy. You need rest after the procedure, especially in your current state and age.” The man donning the suit put up his hands placatingly.

“I’ll take it easy when you explain what is happening! How am I in someone else’s body! And who’s in mine!?” Theo could feel his breath wheezing. Not only was he old, this body he was in was wildly unfit!

“Your body has been paid for by Mr Woods, here. Thanks to a large donation and help getting the authorities off our back, Mr Woods is currently the sole proprietor of one Theo Stone.” The man explained.

Theo was stunned. Some proprietor!? This wasn’t some piece of estate or a patent they were talking about! This was his damn body! And yet, he wasn’t even in it. The man continued before Theo could speak. “There is no chance for you to bring this up to the cops. After all, who is to believe you when Mr Theo Stone himself will be denying these accusations.” The man gestured to “Theo” who had been quiet until then. “You will be given help adjusting to your new life, and we urge you to accept these changes.”

Theo wanted to scream, kick and punch. But his frail body wouldn’t let him. Instead, he sat in disbelief, watching as his former body, now held by a pervy old man, began to flex. The real Mr Woods seemed perfectly content with his renewed youth. Watching Theo’s muscles ripple and flex in the mirror at his command brought a wide grin to his face.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take great care of this body. Promise.” Woods said with yet another smirk…

————————————————————————

It had been five months since the swap. Mr Woods had grown perfectly accustomed to his new life as Theo. In fact, plenty of people in his life saw the changes. In their eyes, the previously homophobic jock had taken a full 180. From having a different girl in his bed each night, Theo was now hooking up with hunks and twinks left and right. Every gay bar in the city knew his name. “Take it off Theo” they called him, thanks to his proclivity to strip off and flex for fun in the clubs and bars. Of course, the managers never did mind. It was just more good business for them when the hunk pulled in desperate and horny guys.

Even at the gym, Theo got plenty of action. His clothes got tighter and tighter over the weeks, his bubble butt on full display under the 5 inch shorts he’d switched to in place of the usual grey sweatpants he used to wear. Hunks seemed to love it, plenty of them pulling Theo aside in the locker room to give his bubble butt a few swats before giving him a raunchy fuck in the locker room.

Theo loved it all of course. And to make matters worse, he’d dropped out of college. He wasn’t going to waste his second chance at life on something he’d already gone through once before. Instead, the new Theo decided modelling was his calling. After all, with a body like his, recruiters were practically lined up for him.

That was the only morsel of his old life that Theo got. Now left alone in an old age home affiliated with SwapCorp, the real Theo could only watch his old body through the pics and vids posted on his Instagram and his modelling gigs. Each time, he’d sigh as he felt his heart break at what he’d lost. Nobody had listened to his deranged ranting about forcibly being swapped. After all, most people believed it was SwapCorp was a hoax…

[talon-dragonbeast]

Anglocentrism in alterhuman communities: ramblings of a Spanish-speaking dragon and a cat

[original in spanish here, though i have no doubt that this version will be disseminated more widely] • [original en español aquí, aunque tengo la certeza de que esta versión se difundirá más ampliamente]

this post was originally written as part of The Sol System's Alterhuman Writing Challenge. written by @talon-dragonbeast, with the help of my sibling @watcherwingedcat. we hope you like it!

word count: 2422

This writing, which is more of a rant with myself than a proper essay, is one I've been meaning to write for a long time; ever since I first joined an online community, to be more precise. Anglocentrism, according to Wikipedia (and yes, the irony of the article not being available in Spanish is not lost to me), is "the practice of viewing the world primarily through the lens of English or Anglo-American culture, language, and values, often marginalizing or disparaging non-English-speaking or non-Anglo perspectives."

If you are monolingual and your native language is English, chances are you have never stopped to think about the advantage this gives you over those of us who are not so fortunate as to be born with the lingua franca on our lips. Yes, you may have had to study some Spanish in school, but let's be honest, very few people remember what they learn in elementary school. As an English speaker, the whole world is built for you, and it's the rest of us who have to fit your mold. Culture, scientific articles, movies, books, video games, the internet, online communities, technical language, educational videos: even in the most international spaces, everything revolves around English. Which brings me to the subject of this writing: The Alterhuman community.

My name (as I am known on the internet, at least) is Talon. I've been a member of the alterhuman community, and more specifically, the otherkin community, for a little over a year now. Otherkin (a word that comes from other, in Spanish otros; and kin, shortened form of kind, in Spanish tipo) are people who identify as nonhuman in some way. For example, I identify as a dragon (among other things), and that's what I am, even if I look human on the outside and am perceived as such. There are many reasons why someone might believe they are not human, but I'm not here to discuss that, so let's get back to the topic at hand.

Since I've been in this community, I haven't written a single post in Spanish. And not for lack of desire, nor because I am intimidated to share something as personal as my mother tongue. No, the reason is simple: The community does not exist in any language other than English. By this I don't mean that there are no non-humans outside of England or the United States, because of course there are (even if they are on other platforms like TikTok or Instagram), and I'll talk about those later. But simply put, the reason you don't see many alterhuman communities in other languages is because all the resources, the introductions, the chronologies of the (English) alterhuman community, the definitions of the terms, the terms themselves, everything is in English.

I have always been bilingual. Well, trilingual actually, although my third language is not too relevant in my day to day life and I only use it in classes or when someone starts a conversation in the language. It's hard to explain how your brain works when you speak multiple languages fluently, but basically it's like running two parallel systems at the same time, but with thoughts. I don't usually think with words, but when I do it usually happens that some of my thoughts are in Spanish, and others in English, roughly in a 50/50 ratio. Or it can also happen that I start the thought in one language, but finish it in another. Or I may try to use a specific word in English that does not have an exact translation into Spanish, so that when translated literally the sentence does not make sense. Basically, everything I write or say out loud I have to run it through several filters first, one to remove the words from the other language, one to find the words to replace them with, and one to make the sentence make sense. Sounds exhausting, doesn't it? It is. Now imagine if in order to express yourself as you really are, in order to participate in a community with beings who understand and accept you like no other, you had to basically suppress half of who you are, all the time.

The problem is not only not being able to use my native language to express myself. As I have demonstrated in the last year and a half that I have been in this community, I am fluent enough in English not only to be understood when I speak, but also to express such complicated concepts as the self, human nature, the psychology of being, and all that comes with existing as nonhuman. The real problem comes when I try to express relatively common alterhuman concepts in my native language. I'm not just talking about labels like otherkin or therianthrope, which can be adapted to Spanish with relative ease. It's the little things, the simplest things.

For example, the term shift. The word itself is already difficult to translate; during my searches, I found a glossary of terms on the Otherkin Hispano website in which they call them "desplazamientos", which... is an accurate translation, I guess, but impossible to use comfortably in everyday life. There are also terms whose definitions use expressions that simply cannot be translated into other languages. For example, otherkin and otherhearted. In English, the difference between these two terms is that otherkin means "[to] identify as" while otherhearted is "[to] identify with". But this is a purely English expression. In other languages, the distinction does not exist, or it makes no sense to use it; therefore, these terms are totally inaccessible to any international user. Or compound words like "catkin", which are difficult to express in other languages. According to Otherkin Hispano, in Spanish it would be said as is without translation, Soy catkin. But that... is not grammatically correct, since it would be mixing two languages in the same sentence. The most appropriate would be to say Soy gatokin, which sounds wrong and doesn't make sense anyway, because kin is still an English word. Or "hearttype", which in Spanish could be roughly translated as "tipo del corazón" (kind of [the] heart). When saying that you have a specific hearttype, for example "corvidhearted", one way of expressing it could be a simple Soy corvidhearted, which carries the same problems as catkin. Or you could, as Wikipedia advises, say Soy corazón de córvido ("I am heart of corvid"). I don't dislike it, to be honest, but some might find it too metaphorical or poetic.

Finally, and before reaching the conclusion, I want to dedicate a few paragraphs to talk about the alterhuman community that exists in other languages. I mentioned before these communities; that although they do exist, they are very scattered through platforms such as TikTok or Instagram, with which I am not so familiar. But since I can't talk about Anglocentrism without at least talking about the Spanish-speaking alterhuman community, I asked my sibling Watcher @watcherwingedcat what it thought about the topic. This is what they wrote:

Hi guys, I'm Watcher, and I'm here to talk a bit about the Spanish-speaking therian community, which I think is the pristine example of the hate we receive both from people outside the community and from those inside, both Spanish and South American. While this post focused more on the language barriers, I want to focus on the real consequences of this barrier, how it divides us in the way we interact with each other: The social part of this whole thing (as I already said some other time or another and some of my followers know, I am studying Social Education, so from my point of view the social part is very relevant for everything we do). As my sister already said (hi Talon!), the English community is the majority in alterhuman spaces, but, what is the Spanish-speaking community really like?

Not very large, is the answer. The term itself is not very widespread, and the community is quite small. However, after a while of searching, I found it in a little corner of the internet. When I found a community in my own language, I was excited, but my curiosity and joy were soon extinguished... When I saw the reactions to their videos and posts on tiktok mainly. They were packed with hate messages. Packed. If you think hate in the English community is bad, you are not prepared for the hate received in other communities, especially the Spanish one. This is more a matter of culture, a little bit also due to the closed mindedness in countries like Spain, Argentina, or Colombia.

In general, the non-humans of the Spanish-speaking community mostly post about quadrobics and masks. At least, I haven't seen much beyond that, and the community is mostly in tiktok. And the reception of their expression of way of being? Disgusting. To give an example of how bad the hate is, in one of the videos I found (I think it was a therian making a mask or something), humans and non-humans were insulting the therian posting the video, discussions about how we are crazy and sick in the head and should be in mental institutions... It was horrible. The worst were the death threats, even, wishing the therian to die, or hang themselves, or worse (I've even seen rape threats). Comments that said things like, "If my sister told me she was a dog I would take her clothes off and force her to sleep outside and eat animal food, if she wants to be a dog I will treat her like one." Threats of abuse, both physical and sexual... Absolutely disgusting. And the worst thing is that the tiktok platform did not remove these hate accounts, the copy and paste messages of insults, the threats....

I am proud of the Hispanic community for being so open about their identity, don't get me wrong, but there are times when it is safer to just not share that part of who we are with others, especially if you are a minor and vulnerable. That's another issue that concerns me, as I've seen people coming out to parents, siblings, friends, and them just belittling them. That, coupled with misinformation, is a recipe for disaster.

I couldn't help but notice the deep root of misinformation in the non-human community itself. They confuse definitions, the different terms, which leads them to spread even more misinformation. This I don't think is entirely their fault, or that they are so young for the most part, as I have not seen Hispanic therians over the age of 18. I think this is largely due (as Talon already mentioned) to the language difference, and the lack of translation of certain terms. In general, when talking to friends with whom I am open about my non-humanity, I use English terms. It is a little weird to use those words in English while speaking in Spanish, but I am bilingual and for now there is no solution to that. I think the Spanish community would benefit from spreading correct information, and having a platform to express themselves with their own, like tumblr is for the English community. Something my sister expands on in dreir post. As for me here I finish my little comment, I'll leave you with Talon now. Watcher out.

As a conclusion, I would like to talk about the consequences that Anglocentrism might have on non-English speaking alterhumans, and then propose some ideas on how we might begin to address (or at least mitigate) it as a community.

First of all it is the obvious; the vast majority of non-English speaking alterhumans simply never realize that they are alterhumans in the first place, on account of the language barrier. All of the resources for beings who are questioning their humanity or lack thereof are in English, so they are not accessible to people who don't understand the language; therefore, a non-English speaker would have a much harder time accessing them. Another consequence is not being able to express your alterhumanity fully, both internally and externally. Remember when I mentioned that my thoughts are evenly distributed between English and Spanish, always keeping a 50/50 ratio? Well, recently, I have noticed that when reflecting on my identity as a dragon, all my thoughts are automatically generated in English. I find this deeply shocking, as I feel that a fundamental part of my identity is being eroded. It is devastating to feel that you can only express half of who you are, suppressing what could otherwise be a complex and multifaceted identity. Not being able to express myself in my other language limits my ability to explore that part of myself.

Anglocentrism is a cycle that never ends; since all the resources are in English, no members in other languages can join, and since there are no members in other languages, all the resources that are created are in English. And while I wish I could say that I have a solution to end this Anglocentrism once and for all, unfortunately, I do not. I am only one person (dragon), and this is a problem that I alone cannot solve. True, there have been some commendable attempts by the international community (translations of writings, alterhuman blogs in languages other than English, the Eurokin server on Discord are some examples); however, these initiatives often don't often get very far because of the very nature of the community. As I have already said, most of the alterhumans are North American or English, therefore any attempt to globalize the community would be restricted by the fact that there are not many members who would be interested in this in the first place. So what can we do to change this? The answer lies in you, reader. If you have a second language, encourage yourself to create writings in it from time to time. If you come from a culture other than the mainstream, talk about how that affects your identity. If you have traditions specific to your country that you believe are alterhuman in nature, share them. And if you are part of the English-speaking majority, I invite you to contribute in a positive way through simple actions, such as listening to us when we express ourselves in other languages, recognizing that we do not all share the same culture, and keeping an open mind when discussing topics that may be unfamiliar to you. Our strength as a community lies in the diversity of our members; let's embrace it.

[basketball-lesbians]

Freefall

summary: The thing about Paige and Azzi is they were never any good at staying away from each other. Even when they really should.

OR

The fwb pazzi fic that quite literally nobody asked for but I’m providing anyway.

pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

contents: angst, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff occasionally if you squint, fwb, cheating

disclaimer:

As the story progresses, some of this will be out of character for Paige, especially with Azzi (she's lowkey an asshole at times in this storyline). There is cheating in this fic (NOT between Paige and Azzi), I don't condone it, but I did write it. I literally just wrote this because I could not get the prompt out of my head and bc I think it’s hot, lol. None of this has been beta’d, please do not repost/distribute anywhere else. Hope you enjoy these silly gay bitches being obsessed w each other :)

—

It was something they’d fought about a thousand times: the impending end of their time together at UCONN, whether Azzi would declare, how they would manage being thrust into being a long distance relationship again- if the cards fell that way.

Each time they’d fought about it, they would inevitably come to a resolution that it wasn’t worth stressing about before they had to- that they should treasure the moments they had left and live in the moment while it lasted. No matter how much that conclusion equally made Azzi’s stomach turn, ever the over-thinker, Paige would soothe her with that sweet, gentle voice she reserved for only her, and brush her loose curls behind her ear as she pressed sweet kisses to her face, and Azzi would let it go.

This time though, they hadn’t had such luck. They’d been arguing ahead of the season starting for an hour- loud enough that it echoed off the walls of the shared apartment, leading Ice and the other girls to take it as a sign and leave to give them privacy.

“No Paige, you’re not listening to me!” Azzi shouts, tears welling in her eyes as she flings her hands in a gesture of frustration that shows her desperation.

“How the fuck am I not listening to you?” Paige bites back defensively, her tone hot with anger. At that, Azzi scoffs, turning around to wipe the tears from her eyes harshly. The site of her back turned as she sniffles and wipes her face clearly melts away at Paige’s resolve, and it’s quiet for a ten count before her voice softens. “Baby, we’ve been at this for an hour.” She says, clearly exasperated.

“No. For months.” Azzi corrects pointedly, turning on her heel to meet Paige’s gaze. Her voice is unsteady, but the words are sharp and sure. There’s sincerity behind it, and they both know the implications of what she’s saying as it settles into the room.

It hangs heavy in the air between them, but neither of them manages to address it, just staring at each other. “And we’re no closer to resolving it.” It slips from her lips before she really thinks about it, and even though she means it, she feels bad as soon as she says it. She knows it was a low blow, speaking something aloud that so evidently assigned blame to Paige’s career.

Paige’s frame suddenly seems small in the low lighting of the room. She stares at the ground midway between them, not quite bold enough to look Azzi right in the face. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Azzi.” She mutters, defeated.

Azzi nods, wetting her lips. She would never ask Paige to choose her over her career, in any capacity. As teenagers, they’d conspired dreams about how they’d play together in college, spend every day together in practice and win championships before declaring for the draft and entering the league together. Azzi had finished college in 3 years just so they could stay in the same class.

But life hadn’t quite worked out that way. Yes, they’d both gotten to UCONN. They’d even gotten as close to a championship as the final four, more than once. But in three years, they’d only played 17 games together, injuries always getting in the way.

Now, almost a year after her second ACL tear, Azzi was close to coming back- this time, hopefully more permanently. But Paige was expected to declare after the end of her fifth year of playing at UCONN, her eligibility to stay in college gone, and nobody- including herself- was sure if the time was right for Azzi to declare, having missed so much play time throughout her collegiate career.

She knew the importance that getting to the league held to Paige. To both of them. She would never want to put herself before that. She did wish, though, that just for once, Paige would at least admit that the tensions that declaring brought with it were causing issues between them.

Really what she wishes is that she would hold her and apologize for the stress it caused, and promise that she would still be her priority, no matter where the draft took her. But Paige, ever so stubborn and never one to take blame if she didn’t have to, had yet to do so.

“You know what? Nevermind. I don’t know why I even brought it up.” Azzi grumbles, reaching for her sweatshirt that was slung over the back of Paige’s desk chair.

“Hey,” Paige says in protest, stepping toward her to grab her hand. “Paige, please.” Azzi sighs, glancing at their hands together before meeting the blonde’s eyes, glossy with tears. They share a pained look, but neither of them says anything. Paige drops her hand as Azzi reaches for her bedroom door. “I’ll see you at practice.” She says, closing the door behind her.

—

To make matters worse, when her alarm goes off the next morning, Azzi discovers that in her overly tired and emotional state after coming back from Paige’s, she’d set her alarm for 45 minutes after what she normally would to get ready for practice. She groans as she wakes up, rolling over to pick up her phone, turning off the alarm.

When she sees the time, she throws the blankets off, scrambling to her feet. She pulls her bonnet off and tosses it to her bedside table, grabbing a hair-tie left behind by Paige and pulling her curls back as fast as she can. Nearly falling over as she pulls on a pair of sweats and a hoodie she's pretty sure is her girlfriends', she rushes into the bathroom to quickly brush her teeth, splashing cold water on her face in a desperate effort to wake herself up, not bothering to look at her reflection in the mirror.

Of course this would happen to her the day of the first official practice back.

She grabs her practice set and court shoes and tosses them into her duffel along with another change of clothes, quickly grabbing a few hair care products and hygiene items to get ready with after practice before zipping it closed and slinking out the door. She gets down one out of three flights before realizing her keys aren’t in her hand. She groans in frustration, hanging her head in exasperation for a moment before turning around and running back up the flight of stairs she’d just come down, swiping her card to get back into her apartment to grab her keys.

Once she finds them, she rushes back down the stairs a second time, jogging across the walkway into the lot to her jeep as she checks her watch for the time. Shit. There was no way she was making it on time. She tosses her bag into the backseat before climbing into the drivers seat, and when she does, she’s instantly met with the realization that Paige was the last person to drive her car- she’d taken it for an oil change over the weekend because Azzi had studying she’d needed to do.

It’s evident in the way that her seat is slightly further back to account for Paige’s long legs, the smell of her cologne still barely in the air, and finally, when the engine turns over, the way that the speakers are turned to full volume once her phone resyncs to the audio system.

She flinches, partially at how bad she feels for picking a fight with Paige last night and partially at how loud the music comes through the speakers. She cranks the dial down after nearly jumping out of her skin, reversing out of her parking spot and out of the lot, probably a little bit faster than she should.

—

She pulls into the practice facility and manages a parking job she’s sure she’ll hear about in the team group chat later before speed walking inside, her bag hitting her knee awkwardly every other step. She swipes herself into the facility and immediately rushes to the team room and then to the changing rooms, throwing on her practice set and pulling out her shoes to walk to the courts. She tries to slink into the gym without being noticed, but the girls are already running drills across the court, so there’s nothing to distract CD from clocking her as soon as she rounds the corner.

Azzi offers an apologetic smile, and for a second she actually thinks that the pathetic look on her face might have spared her from a lecture when CD’s expression softens as she looks at her, but then she hears it. Geno’s loud voice booms across the gym- calling her out in front of the entire team and staff.

“Azzi Fudd! How nice of you to make an appearance.” He chides, hands wide as he makes a big gesture at her in disbelief, walking towards her. She nods, dropping her court shoes to the floor, slipping her slides off to change into them. “I know- I’m so sorry,” She acknowledges, not bothering to provide an excuse, because she knows by now how their coaching staff feels about them.

“Mmm. Just decided since you aren’t fully cleared you don’t need to be here?” He asks sharply, and even though she knows he doesn’t actually think that about her, and that he’s just annoyed and trying to prove a point, it still stings. “No, I-“

She stops herself, knowing she’s getting emotional and about to launch into a defensive explanation for no reason. It was a shitty feeling right now, but he’ll forget about it before the week’s out. “No excuse, Coach. It won’t happen again.”

Even though he’s barely taller than her, she feels small as he looks at her intently. “Better not. Get your mind right, kid.” She nods, kneeling down to tie her shoe. He turns away from her, spurring the girls on the court into switching to another drill.

CD takes his place next to her, leaning over slightly so she can hear her without her having to raise her voice. “Brush it off. Lynn’s waiting for you in the team room,” She says, patting Azzi on the back as she stands up.

She nods, smoothing a hand over her hair as she offers a small smile in response. Subconsciously, her eyes scan the group of girls on the court for Paige as she walks back out of the gym, although she hears her before her eyes actually find her.

“Box out, box out! You can’t leave him open like that!” She yells to the underclassmen as she runs under the basket to rebound a shot thrown up by one of the practice players, dribbling it back outside the key and retaking the possession. Azzi smiles to herself slightly at that, walking under the banner that hangs over the doors on her way out.

Paige’s gaze finds Azzi’s figure walking out as she resets, closing in on the three point line. She pump fakes the practice player thats guarding her and pivots hard to the left, losing him fully, before coming up for a wide open jumpshot three.

Azzi’s already turned the corner and walked out of the gym by the time the ball leaves her shooting hand, but her eyes still come back to the doorway to look for her. When she doesn’t find her there, her gaze snaps back to the hoop. The shot bounces off the shooting square of the backboard, rolling around the lip of the rim tantalizingly before tipping out of the basket. Miss.

—

Paige wrings her hair out with her towel, the material of the dri-fit shirt she’d pulled on sticking to her back with her movements. The chatter from the other girls that would usually fill the locker room is non-existent this morning, Paige having stayed significantly late after practice to get extra shots up and talk to Geno.

The stress of this season was already weighing on her, but she was determined to rise to the occasion and use this season, her last, to get the Huskies to championship number 12. She’d always had a chip on her shoulder, but this year, with all the media speculation and attention, she was committed to showing up and showing out- to do what she came here to do.

No matter what the cost was. It was something she needed to prove to herself.

She sighs, hanging up the towel into her locker, and drops her hygiene bag into the open drawer of her locker, nudging it shut with her hip.

She barely hears when Azzi enters the locker room from the team room, shower kit in hand to head to where Paige had just emerged from.

“Hey,” Azzi says, a quiet start to a conversation they both know is going to feel like ripping off a bandaid. Paige nods at her, lifting a hand under her shirt to apply deodorant. Azzi’s eyes briefly skim the exposed section of taut midriff that flashes before her shirt falls back to cover it again. “Hey. Didn’t know you were still here.”

“Yeah, um. Stayed back for some cupping.” She shifts her clothes and shower kit between her hands awkwardly, lingering in place solely to talk to the other girl, who’s nodding along as she combs through her drawer, evidently looking for something specific.

“Talked with Lynn a little bit about the conversations I’ve been having with Carl,” She says, a touch of hopefulness in her voice evident at the mention of her recovery timeline.

Paige offers a slight smile at that, running lotion over her hands and face. “That’s good,” She says, pulling a hoodie on over her t-shirt. “You wanna get breakfast after you shower, talk about last night?” She asks, finally turning to look at Azzi fully.

Azzi doesn’t miss the way her tone is just a little short, her expression tense, like she’s holding back from her. She hates when she gets like this after they fight- understands it, but hates it, nonetheless.

“I have class after this,” She reminds her gently- a byproduct of the fact that Azzi had chosen in person classes while Paige had adamantly tried to keep the both of their schedules as fully online as possible.

Paige purses her lips slightly and nods, reaching for her bag. “Right. Okay,” She says, putting her shoes in the top of her locker and tidying up her space. “Well, I guess lemme know when you have time to talk, then.”

“Paige, hey.” Paige looks up, pulling her backpack over her shoulder. “What’s up?” She asks, her voice almost impatient, like she's waiting for Azzi to finish her thought so she can leave.

“I-“ Her voice falters, not sure of what to say. After not interacting at all since their fight last night, Azzi wasn’t sure what to say.

She thought they’d both soften by the time they talked about it, and maybe they had- but an immediate rejection the second that Paige offered to talk definitely hadn’t helped. Now she was doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out a way to walk that back before Paige walked out of the room.

“I finish with classes at 4. Do you wanna meet at my apartment?” Paige frowns. “We were gonna go to the women’s soccer game tonight, we talked about it in practice.” She says flatly.

Azzi nods, pretending it didn’t sting that the season had literally barely started and she’d already been left out of team conversations due to being benched. “Okay. After that?”

Paige sighs, pulling her phone out of her pocket when it starts ringing. “Shit. It’s Brittany, I gotta take this.”

Azzi draws her bottom lip between her teeth and raises her eyebrows, nodding. “Okay.” She says as Paige walks past her and towards the door.

She turns to acknowledge Azzi as she passes at least, which softens the blow.

“Sorry for not telling you about the soccer thing, it was an impromptu idea that got brought up this morning. You’re obviously invited,” She says, before drawing her thumb across the screen and pulling her phone to her ear.

“Yeah. I’ll text you,” Azzi calls after her, and Paige throws a pointer finger up in acknowledgment as she walks out.

So much for talking about it.

—

She gets ready quickly after her shower, not liking how quiet the facility was when the whole team wasn’t there, filling it with buzzing energy and a love for the game.

She pulls her hair back and makes faces at herself in the mirror for a minute before heading to her locker and putting away the gear she kept at the facility, packing up the rest in her duffel.

She pulls her phone and keys out of her bag, looking at her phone for the first time since she’d gotten to the facility. Really, for the first time since she’d been awake, what with the way she’d woken up.

She unlocks her phone and navigates to messages, where she sees 5 unread messages from Paige. Furrowing her brows, she opens their pinned conversation.

Paige Madison 💗:

12:07am: Hey, I’m sorry about tonight. Can I come up?

12:22am: I love you, Az

1:12am: U still tryna ride w me to practice?

4:45am: Should I wait for you or nah?

5:20am: Yo, you good? Getting worried now.

Azzi sighs, running her free hand over her face, frustrated. No wonder she was short with her this morning.

She probably thought she had ignored her all night, and as soon as she’d asked her to go with her to get breakfast and talk this morning, Azzi had turned her down. If Azzi knew anything about Paige from the last 7 years, it was that she hated feeling rejected.

Feeling guilty, she types out a response.

9:11am: I’m so sorry, I just saw this. I went straight to sleep and then overslept this morning

9:11am: I’m okay. I’m sorry if I worried you

Then, after a beat:

9:13am: I love you too

—

Collegiate soccer games are 90 minutes, divided into two 45 minute halves. Azzi knows this because she googled it. Twice.

The soccer game had started at 5:30, and Azzi had too much homework to go, which she’d texted to the team chat. Ice had tried to drag her with her on her way out the door, but Azzi held her ground, knowing she needed to stay on top of her coursework as the season ramped up, or she’d regret it later.

The girls complained in the groupchat at her absence, which made her feel a little less bad, but Paige had largely not acknowledged her since their tense conversation in the locker room- aside from a response to the messages Azzi had sent when she finally looked at her phone this morning.

Paige Madison 💗

9:43am: All g. Lmk if you still wanna talk after the game

So she’d texted back after her class-

11:12am: Ofc. I just have some hw I’ll be working on but I’ll be at home after my class ends at 4

And although Paige had heart reacted to it, Azzi was still feeling a bit uneasy about the whole thing.

Now it was 8:24, and Azzi’s done the math- even accounting for timeouts, substitutions, and a break at half, and even if they went into overtime, it’s getting late.

There’s nothing in the chat about the game going long or traffic being bad or something coming up- so even though she tries to assure herself it’s nothing, she’s slowly becoming convinced that it’s definitely something.

—

When the group finally comes barreling through the door, Azzi’s moved to her bed to be more comfortable, giving up on trying to stay up. She isn’t sure what time it is, but she knows it’s late enough for her to be justified in being bothered.

She goes to check her phone. 1:41am, and still no texts from Paige. Nice.

The girls erupt in laughter in the living room, and she hears Paige’s voice amongst them. “Yo, yo. Shut up, f’real. You’re acting dumb as fu-“ Her words are cut off by very obviously running her shin into something- Azzi would assume the ottoman she left sticking out.

For a second, she almost feels bad. Almost.

“Ohhhh, fuck me.” Paige groans out loudly, and then there's what sounds like her jumping on one foot to hold her leg.

The other girls cackle at her obnoxiously, and Azzi huffs, resolving to get out of bed so all the girls make it to theirs safely. She switches on the light in her room, pulling her robe on, and the way she can hear the girls scatter at the sound makes her feel like she’s somebody’s mother.

She pulls her door open, and Ice is laying on the floor clutching at her stomach in laughter while she watches Paige nurse her leg leaning against the wall. She hears Morgan giggling somewhere on the couch, and the smell of liquor coming off of the trio does not impress her at all.

She stands with her hands on her hips just outside the living room, staring at Ice. Ice giggles anxiously when she sees her, scooting across the floor and away from her.

“Isuneh,” Azzi warns, walking toward her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” She laughs out, clearly picking up on Azzi’s agitation, despite being inebriated to the extent that she is.

“We should have texted- the girls won, like totally kicked Boston’s ass, and they wanted to go to Ted’s with us, so…” She trails off, and Azzi sighs, turning to find the other two in the dimly lit room.

Morgan, to her credit, seems the least drunk out of the three of them, but she’s entirely too bubbly considering that it’s nearly midnight on a monday.

Azzi gestures towards Morgan, not acknowledging Paige yet. The tension it adds to the room is palpable. “Do you need help getting to bed?” Azzi asks, a gentle lilt in her voice despite being annoyed.

She wasn’t trying to ruin the freshman’s fun just because she was having a bad day. Morgan shakes her head, standing slightly unsteadily.

Azzi sighs, leaning down to grab Ice’s hands and pull her up and lean her against the couch. “Get some sleep,” She says to Morgan. “Pain meds are in the cabinet above the coffee maker, I’ll make sure there’s food in the morning.”

Morgan smiles nervously at her, her posture small. “Thanks, Az,” She whispers, and Azzi nods at her, offering a small smile back.

Ice slumps into Azzi’s shoulder, giggling again. Azzi hits her shoulder, only slightly playfully. “You should know better, Isuneh,”

She scolds, pushing her back against the couch again so she can swing an arm beneath hers and get her to her bedroom.

“It’s a frikin' Monday night.” She says incredulously, mostly to herself.

Ice laughs at that before groaning, reaching for her stomach. “No, no, no,” She rushes to get out. Azzi cranes her neck to look at her.

“What?” She asks, and Ice gags. Azzi winces, saying a silent prayer that nothing comes up, and that if it does, it somehow manages to avoid her.

Ice drops her weight back towards the couch and out of Azzi’s reach. “Don’t move me, just let me die here.” She says dramatically, and Azzi makes a face, staring at her for a moment, calculating.

She sighs, picking up her feet and putting her fully on the couch. She walks to the closet just outside the living room and pulls out a blanket, fanning it out over Ice so she can at least hopefully get comfortable and sleep this off.

She feels Paige’s gaze on her, but she makes no effort to acknowledge it. She walks to the kitchen and gets a glass of water, bringing it back to the drunken girl sprawled out on the couch. “Here,” She says, holding out the glass in one hand and two aspirin in the other.

“You’re gonna wanna get ahead of this before the morning,” She says when Ice stares at her blankly. “I don’t know if I can even swallow that,” Ice slurs, trying to sit up and missing when she tries to plant her arm, nearly dropping off the side of the couch and into Azzi’s leg.

She grimaces, leaning out of the contact, and resettles Ice onto the cushions. “Come on. Take this and I’ll let you sleep.” Ice sighs loudly, reaching for the pills and taking them from Azzi’s hand.

The glass, however, she simply presses her lips to, rather than taking it from Azzi’s hand.

“Oh my god,” Azzi mutters, tilting the glass slowly so the water flows into Ice’s mouth. She swallows loudly, opening her mouth wide after the fact to show off that the pills were gone.

Azzi chuckles to herself. “Very nice,” She credits, pulling the blanket over the taller girl once she settles back on the couch.

Ice sighs, bringing the blanket to her chin. “Thanks, crazy Azzi. Don’t have too much fun with Paigey-Waigey. I’ll be able to hear it from here.” She giggles, wagging her finger at Azzi suggestively. Azzi rolls her eyes, taking the glass back to the kitchen. As if.

She walks back through the living room and Paige is already looking at her, her hand still over her shin. Azzi sighs. “Are you okay?” She asks, gesturing loosely at her leg.

Paige nods, her eyes obviously tired, and moves to try and stand, using the wall for aid. Azzi comes slightly closer, so if she falls she’d be able to catch her, and watches her carefully. “‘M fine, Az. I’m not even that drunk.” She defends, and Azzi rolls her eyes yet again.

“Right.” She says. Paige clears her throat, awkward, using the opportunity of being braced against the wall to catch her breath. “Do you need the couch or can you make it downstairs?” Azzi asks, and Paige furrows her eyebrows.

“Oh. Uh,” She pauses, looking around. Azzi swallows. She’d obviously planned to stay with her tonight.

The assumption that she would stay with Azzi would be sweet if she hadn’t left her hanging for hours, not texted, and then shown up drunk at midnight on a weeknight- if she hadn’t said they could talk tonight, and then completely stood her up. But she did.

“Come on. You probably wouldn’t make it down those stairs in once piece anyway.” She grumbles, grabbing Paige’s arm and guiding her to her bedroom. Paige starts to protest, but quickly drops it.

The younger girl makes sure Paige gets to the bed, and then turns to close the bedroom door. She pulls her robe off and drapes it back over her desk chair, Paige’s eyes tracking her movements intently.

“You look good, mama,” Paige draws, and Azzi scoffs. “Absolutely not, Paige Madison.” She clears, walking towards the bed, deliberate in staying out of Paige’s reach.

Paige’s eyebrows draw up in surprise, and Azzi stares at her incredulously, her clueless reaction making frustration flash in her chest.

“What? Did you drink so much you forgot we were supposed to talk?” Azzi asks, unable to help herself, and as soon as she says it, she regrets it.

She knows better than that, she should have waited until tomorrow to do this. It’s only going to cost them both sleep, and Paige probably won’t even remember it in a few hours.

Paige breathes heavily, leaning forward so her forearms are braced against her quads as she leans over, feet square on the ground. “Fuck, Az. ‘M sorry,”

Azzi bites at the inside of her cheek, weighing whether or not to engage further. “Seriously, Paige? What, you just spaced it?” Paige winces when she raises her voice. “No, I-“ She stops, holding her head.

She looks up at Azzi, squinting, even just from the normal lighting in her room. “We went out for dinner and a couple of drinks. I meant to text you, honest. We got caught up and…” She trails off, and Azzi’s mouth goes dry.

“And what, Paige?” She asks. The blonde groans next to her. “I’on even know,” She complains, hanging her head, and in any other situation, Azzi would sympathize more and pull her under the blankets, play with her hair and let her fall asleep on her chest.

But right now, tears are brimming her eyes and she can’t even bring herself to touch her hand. “You couldn’t even muster the presence of mind to have somebody else text? Or, god forbid, you couldn’t have just made it a priority to get back to me so we could have this stupid conversation?”

Paige's eyebrows furrow, looking up at her. “Wh’d’you mean, stupid conversation? If it’s about us and it’s important, how is it stupid?”

Azzi purses her lips, beyond frustrated that she can pick a fight over minced words but won’t actually address the problem that’s been hanging over them for months. “You tell me, Paige. You’re the one who couldn’t make it a priority.”

“I’m sorry, Az. You gotta understand, dude, I got a lot going on, and I was already upset-" Azzi laughs at that, throwing her hands up.

“You were upset? Paige, you barely even talked to me today. And then you stood me up when we were finally supposed to actually talk.”

“Whoa, you started the “barely talking” thing. You didn’t even answer my texts til practice was over the next morning.” Paige says, scooting back in the bed to lean against the wall and get further from Azzi. “Yeah, because I fell asleep. I told you that.” Azzi argues.

“Okay, well I tried to talk with you earlier, and you were too busy.” Paige stabs back. “No, Paige, I wasn’t “too busy”. I had classes. Classes I am trying to stay on top of so that you and I can have time together outside of the season and actually enjoy the last year we have together before who fucking knows what happens!”

Paige laughs. “Dude, you think I don’t understand that? That’s why I tried to get as many online classes as possible. You’re making me out to be this villain who like, doesn’t wanna be around you or something, and that’s not fuckin’ true. I’m trying so hard to be on top of classes and be a good leader for the team and keep myself in a good position to get to the league-“ Azzi cuts her off cold.

“Exactly, Paige! It’s always about the league. Your priority is always the league. And I get that that’s your dream- it’s my dream too. But fuck, Paige. It’s gonna fucking happen either way. You’ve been projected as first pick for over a year. We could bomb all season long and it wouldn’t matter- you’re getting to the W. I wish you could admit that it’s such a fucking given and focus on literally anything else for one goddamn minute.”

Paige scoffs, standing up, her blue eyes wide in disbelief. "Yes, Azzi, the league is my priority." She stares at the other girl dubiously, like she's trying to figure out why the hell that's coming as a shock. "If you don't understand that, maybe we're not doing what I thought we were doing here," She rushes out, gesturing loosely between them.

Her words send Azzi's head spinning, so much that she barely hears the next words out of her mouth.

"Going pro is everything we ever talked about. Getting drafted is foundational to the fucking life we always planned on. You being injured and not knowing when you’re declaring is fucking complicated and it weighs on you, I know. I’m sorry if you feel like I don’t focus on that enough." Anger rises in Azzi's throat at that, but Paige is quick to resume her point, not giving her a chance to verbalize it.

"It's not that I don’t care- but that only adds to the importance of me getting my foot in the door to ensure we have a good fucking life set up.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Azzi mutters, looking at the blonde in disbelief. "What, you think because I’m too fucking fragile you need to get into the league so we can ensure a paycheck?"

Her eyes sting as tears begin to well, threatening to fall. "You think I’m that incapable? That weak?" She asks, looking up at Paige from where she sits on the bed, her voice breaking.

Paige sighs, working her jaw, resolve clearly fractured by Azzi’s reaction. “No, Azzi, that’s not what I-“

“You have that little faith in my future?” Azzi asks, drawing into herself as she leans against her headboard, her arms crossing over her chest. Tears run over and fall down her face now, bottom lip quivering in a way that makes Paige’s stomach churn.

Paige moves to get closer to her, her movements still a little bit sluggish, despite how much the argument had sobered her up. “No, baby, hey-“ She reaches for her hand, and Azzi quickly pulls away, shoving at her to put distance between them.

Paige is taken aback, sitting down on the foot of the bed. “Whoa, hey,” She says, trying to soothe the other girl, but Azzi is inconsolable. She hasn’t felt this betrayed, this misconstrued since she was a child. She had definitely not ever felt this way by Paige’s hand, and she didn’t think she ever would.

The self doubt and concern about coming back from this injury was something that weighed on her constantly- and she’d gotten good at hiding it, sure. Sometimes she was so good she even almost fooled herself.

But it was there. It lived deep in her chest, a voice that spoke to her every time she missed a shot in the gym she knew she should have made.

It kept her awake at night, even with Paige’s body pressed against hers, sound asleep. It was the reason she spent so much time wondering if she was even good enough to make it to the league at all- if she’d even deserved to come to UCONN, if she’d pulled her weight since being there.

Although the comment the other girl had made about their relationship maybe “not doing what she’d thought” had hurt, the mere thought of Paige questioning her abilities made her want to crawl into a hole and die.

“Azzi, that is not what I was trying to say,” Paige promises, leaning closer to try and get Azzi to focus on her rather than whatever thoughts she was quite evidently spinning in her head.

“Hey, look at me, Az,” Paige tries again, reaching to touch her face. Azzi flinches away from the contact, wiping at her face furiously. “Just go.” She says, sniffling as she leans away from the blonde.

Paige watches her with her mouth just barely open, unable to come up with a response. “Wh- don’t you think we need to talk about this?” She tries, but the other girls’ mind is made up, withdrawn from the conversation.

“I don’t wanna argue with you anymore, Paige. Just go, I’m serious.” She says, her voice small. Paige sighs, running her hands over her face.

She can’t just leave when Azzi looks so sad like this. "Come on, Az." She pleads. “That’s not what I meant, can we just-“

“Paige, I want to be left alone. Can we please just not?” Azzi croaks, pulling a pillow over her chest and furthering the barriers between the two girls. The blonde wets her lips, starting to reply and then stopping, not sure where to pivot from here.

“It’s not like it matters, anyway.” Azzi mutters, wiping at her nose. Paige’s expression drops, eyebrows knitting together as she looks at the other girl.

“Doesn’t matter? To who? What is that even supposed to mean?” She asks, hurt rising in her chest.

Azzi looks up at her, her eyes puffy from crying, her expression exhausted. “Come on, Paige. We’ve been arguing over this for months, we’re not going to magically stumble upon a solution tonight.” She says, her voice scratchy- and Paige can’t tell if its from being tired or from crying. “You’re not even sober.”

Paige stares at her, indignant at the suggestion that she wasn’t sober enough to defend her career and fight for their relationship. If Azzi was going to take dirty hits, she wasn’t going to let what she’d said go.

“Who does it not matter to, Azzi?” She repeats. Azzi narrows her eyes, scoffing at the blonde in disbelief. “I’m not doing this with you right now.” She states, getting off the bed and walking across the room to put distance between them.

Paige follows suit, getting to her feet and standing behind her, refusing to let her walk away. "I asked you a question.” She states, insistent, and Azzi turns around, adamant brown eyes meeting stubborn blue.

“No, Paige.” She says firmly. Her inflexible tone only ramps the blonde up further. “What do you mean, “no”? We’re having a conversation.”

“Not anymore, we’re not." She shuts her down simply. "Azzi." Paige prompts.

"You know I don’t like when you get like this.” Azzi says, staring daggers at her before pushing past to get around her. “Azzi.”

Paige turns her body with the movement and grabs for her wrist. Azzi pulls away hard, like her flesh is burning in the blonde’s grip. “No, Paige. I’m done. Go home.”

Frustrated tears fall silently down her pale cheeks, and she wipes at them with the back of her hand, only irritated further by their presence.

“You’re ‘done’?” She asks, incredulous, a scoff ripping its way up from the back of her throat. Loose strands of blonde hair that came undone from her bun throughout the drunken activities of the night frame the desperate look on her face.

Azzi crosses her arms, keeping distance between them. “I’m serious, Paige. Go.” She repeats, and Paige wants to scream. Her mind is moving too fast and too slow at the same time- she doesn’t know if she should storm out, raise her voice, or drop to her knees and beg Azzi to let her stay and try and make up.

As soon as that mental image crosses her mind, anger flashes in her chest at the fact she’d thought it in the first place. She hadn’t even done anything wrong aside from getting drunk when she shouldn't have. Why was she being crucified for trying to make a life for them?

Was she the only one who’d meant it all the times they’d talked about getting to the league, building a family, and living on the coast?

The anger in her chest bubbles over, and she can’t even see straight. “You know what, Azzi? Fine. Maybe its better off that way, anyway. We both could stand to lock in this year, without any distractions.” She spits.

Before Azzi can get her mouth to open, she's closing the door behind herself- and then she's gone.

Hey y’all! Here's a little something I've been working on. This is part 1 of multiple, idk how many yet. This chapter is really just to set up the rest of the story- the rest from here on out will be a lot more fun, I promise. This was not beta’d at all, so be warned! Any comments/shares/love is sooo appreciated. Thank you and I really hope you guys enjoy!

[focusonkayjay]

between the ride and the roses (8)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Word count: 3.7k

Chapter Warnings: tensionnnn, seokjin (you'll see why)

A/N: literally fell in love with this jugnkook as i was writing this chapter. something abt him makes my heart flutter like why don't i have a man like this. AHHHH is the chemistry chemistrying for you guys? let me know your thoughts hehehehe.

part 8: when the camellia revs

The fairgrounds buzz with life as preparations continue, but you manage to steal a quiet moment under the shade of an old oak tree. The wooden bench you share with Sunjae feels like a small oasis amidst the hustle. Around you, the rhythmic sounds of hammering, laughter, and the shuffle of footsteps continue. Yet here, with Sunjae beside you, it feels as though time slows down.

A mischievous glint sparks in your eyes as you nudge him lightly. “So…” you begin, dragging the word out, savoring the way his ears turn pink before you’ve even finished the sentence. “How’s the boyfriend?” you giggle.

Sunjae tries to mask his shyness, but it’s a futile effort. He rubs the back of his neck, his smile growing wider by the second. “Yeonjun’s great." he admits, his voice soft but brimming with affection.

“We moved in together recently, and honestly? It’s been... perfect. He’s been crazy busy with work, but he still does these little things, you know? Leaves notes in my lunchbox, surprises me with flowers. The other day, he even cooked me dinner because I was too tired. I don’t know how I got so lucky.” he says, unable to hide his smile.

Your heart warms at his words. Seeing Sunjae so smitten makes your chest swell with pride and happiness for your best friend. “Oh, please.” you scoff, grinning. “You deserve every ounce of that happiness and so much more. If anyone’s lucky, it’s Yeonjun for having you.” you admit.

Sunjae chuckles, the light in his eyes undeniable. “You always know what to say to make me feel like I’m not completely fumbling through life.” As he speaks, he paints vivid pictures of their life together... how they met at a seminar, how Yeonjun’s attempts at karaoke had sealed the deal, and their shared dream of opening a quaint café someday. You can’t help but smile at his happiness, the way his words pour out like a gentle stream.

“You look well.” you say once he finishes, your voice soft but sincere. “I'm so happy for you, Jae.” you comment and he smiles at the nickname. It feels like he hasn't heard that in ages.

He beams at you, his grin infectious. “I could say the same for you, Y/n. You look… peaceful. I'm guessing your business is doing well, huh?” Before you can reply, an enthusiastic voice interrupts.

“Sunjae? No way!”

You glance up to see Taehyung striding towards you, his wide grin lighting up his face. Namjoon, Seokjin, and Juwon follow close behind, all breaking into delighted smiles at the sight of your old friend.

“Still stealing Y/n’s time, huh?” Taehyung teases, pulling Sunjae into a warm hug. “Some things never change.” Sunjae shrugs as he pulls away, looking towards the others.

The bench becomes a hub of lively chatter as introductions, laughter, and playful jabs fly around. Though Sunjae had grown closer to you over the years, his bond with your group remained intact, and their warmth feels as natural as breathing.

//

The next day dawns with a golden hue spilling across the horizon, but the calm of the morning doesn’t last long. As the sun rises higher, the town square transforms into a hive of activity, buzzing with a sense of urgency. The fair is just a day away, and it seems like everyone is working double-time to ensure everything is perfect.

Vendors rush to set up their stalls, the sound of hammers striking nails mingling with the rustle of fabric as colorful banners and canopies are hoisted into place. Children dart around, their laughter piercing through the air as they weave between workers. Volunteers carry boxes of supplies, their voices blending into a symphony of instructions, encouragement, and occasional exasperation.

You’re busier than ever, balancing tasks between your flower shop and the fair. Deliveries need to be organized, decorations have to be finalized, and last-minute adjustments seem to crop up at every corner. Even as you wipe the sweat from your brow, there’s a sense of exhilaration in the air, the anticipation of tomorrow’s festivities driving everyone forward.

Sunjae is bustling around too, overseeing the setup of a handmade crafts stall he’s managing. Every now and then, he glances your way, offering a quick thumbs-up or a smile, his own excitement mirrored in your expressions.

By mid-morning, your friends have gathered to help where ever they can. Namjoon is reviewing schedules, his meticulous nature ensuring no detail is overlooked.

Seokjin is joking with some of the younger volunteers, lightening the mood despite the frenzy. Juwon is coordinating with the food vendors, her authoritative tone cutting through the chatter, while Taehyung flits between tasks, his energy boundless.

And then there’s Jungkook.

You catch glimpses of him every now and then, his leather jacket swapped for a simple black tee, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattooed arm as he unloads heavy crates. The sight of it snaps something inside you and you have to look away to collect yourself.

He works silently but efficiently, his brows furrowed in concentration. Despite the chaos around him, he carries an air of calm focus that you can’t help but notice.

Occasionally, your eyes meet across the crowded square. Each time, it’s fleeting, just a moment before one of you looks away, but it’s enough to send a ripple of something unspoken through the air.

The hours blur together as the sun climbs higher. Despite the hectic pace, there’s a shared unity among the volunteers, an understanding that they’re all working towards something meaningful.

By late afternoon, the square is almost unrecognizable, transformed into a vibrant space brimming with life and color.

But as you glance at the clock, you know there’s still more to be done. The final stretch is here, and tomorrow, the town will come alive in a way that makes all the effort worthwhile.

For now, you push forward, the excitement bubbling beneath the surface, ready to see it all come to life.

//

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a golden glow across the fairgrounds, Mr. Jung’s voice booms from the gazebo. “Everyone! Can I have your attention?” he calls, clapping his hands. The volunteers pause their work, turning to face him.

“To thank all of you for your hard work, we’re hosting a little barbecue right here tonight." Mr. Jung announces, his smile wide. “Consider it a token of our appreciation. You’ve earned it!”

A ripple of cheers and applause follows, and your friends exchange gleeful glances. “Free food?” Seokjin exclaims, clutching his chest as if overwhelmed. “It’s a dream come true.”

“I’m claiming the first plate!” Juwon declares, practically bouncing on her toes. “Not if I get there first,” Taehyung counters, already sprinting toward the gazebo.

The group bursts into laughter, following him in a loose, carefree parade. The atmosphere is electric, buzzing with excitement for the evening ahead. After days of hard work, this feels like the perfect way to unwind... a celebration of effort, friendship, and shared memories.

As the preparations wind down and the golden hour fades into twilight, the barbecue at the gazebo comes alive. Bright fairy lights strung around the wooden structure cast a warm glow over the gathering, making the evening feel almost magical.

The air is filled with the enticing aroma of grilled meat and roasted vegetables, mingling with the faint scent of flowers still lingering from the day’s decorations.

You find yourself seated on the cool grass with Sunjae and your friends, the laughter and chatter creating a cozy bubble around you. Plates of food are passed around as everyone digs in, their voices blending with the soft strumming of a guitar someone brought along.

Namjoon is in the middle of telling a ridiculous story about one of his childhood escapades, which has Seokjin doubling over with laughter while Taehyung and Juwon argue about its authenticity.

The atmosphere is laid-back yet so so rewarding, just a close-knit group of volunteers unwinding after days of hard work. It’s one of those rare moments when you feel completely at peace.

Sunjae leans back beside you, his head tilted towards the sky as he points out a constellation he learned from Yeonjun. His excitement makes you smile, and you can’t help but feel immense joy for your best friend, who seems to have found his place and love in this world.

But amidst the relaxing chaos, there’s a tension simmering not far from where you sit. Jungkook has arrived with Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jimin, finally all done with their work for tomorrow.

The group makes their way to the grill, exchanging greetings and grabbing plates of food. Jungkook, however, doesn’t linger with his friends. His gaze immediately shifts to you, sitting closely with Sunjae, the man whose name he had just learned, as both of you laugh together.

His jaw tightens as he observes you leaning towards Sunjae, smiling so brightly it feels like the world revolves around you in that moment. And the man beside you... the same one from earlier who’d already occupied far too much of your attention is the cause of that smile. Jungkook feels his grip on his plate tighten, the urge to look away battling with the undeniable pull of watching you.

Throughout the evening, he steals glances at you. It’s infuriating how effortlessly you seem to light up the space around you. You laugh, tease Taehyung about his mismatched socks, and playfully swat Sunjae’s arm when he mimics Seokjin’s dramatic storytelling. Each stolen glance chips away at Jungkook’s resolve to keep his distance, leaving him restless.

As the night deepens, the cool evening breeze carries with it a sense of tranquility. The gazebo grows quieter, with fewer people remaining. Mrs. Kim, an elderly woman who’s been a pillar of the town’s volunteer efforts for years, approaches you with a soft smile.

“Y/n-ah, can you please fill my water bottle for me? They seem to have run out of water here, and I need to take my medicines now that I’ve eaten.” she says, holding out the bottle. “Your shop is nearby, so I thought I’d ask.”

You nod immediately, rising to your feet. “Of course, Mrs. Kim. I’ll be right back.” you reply warmly, taking the bottle from her. Your shop, just a few meters away from the gazebo, is still illuminated from earlier in the day.

Jungkook watches the interaction from his spot, his gaze sharpening as you walk off into the night with your usual grace. His chest tightens, and before he realizes it, his feet are moving.

He doesn’t know what compels him, but the idea of you being alone, even for a short while sends a strange urgency coursing through him.

Leaving his friends behind, who are too engrossed in their conversations to notice his sudden departure, he slips away. The cool breeze brushes past him as he strides towards your shop, his heart pounding in his chest.

He doesn’t know what he plans to say or do when he catches up to you, but he’s sure of one thing... he can’t keep this longing bottled up any longer.

The bell above the door jingles softly as you enter your flower shop, the familiar scent of blooms and fresh greenery enveloping you. The quiet of the shop contrasts sharply with the lively chatter of the barbecue behind you, making the space feel almost sacred.

You step past the counter and towards the storeroom, where your water filter is kept. It’s a cozy, tucked-away space filled with neatly labeled boxes of vases, floral foam, and ribbons.

The faint hum of the filter greets you as you flick on the light, placing the water bottle on the counter.

Humming softly to yourself, you begin filling it, the cool water rushing steadily into the bottle. While you're still inside, the shop’s door creaks open again and you don't really hear it.

Jungkook steps inside, his boots making almost no sound against the wooden floor as he closes the door behind him, careful not to alert you. The warm glow of the shop lights reflects off the rows of flower arrangements on display, casting soft shadows on the walls.

As he takes a step further in, his gaze locks onto the passage leading to the storeroom. It’s a narrow corridor lined with shelves holding tools and floral supplies. He knows you’re just beyond it. His pulse quickens, his resolve faltering for a brief second before he moves forward, his boots brushing lightly against the polished floor.

In the storeroom, you screw the cap back onto the filled water bottle, ready to return to the barbecue. Just as you turn around, you nearly jump out of your skin at the sight of Jungkook standing in the doorway.

“Jungkook?” you ask, startled. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. His dark eyes meet yours, intense and unreadable, and for a moment, the small storeroom feels even smaller. His shoulders are broad, nearly filling the frame of the doorway, and his presence is so palpable it makes your breath hitch.

“I… I saw you leave,” he finally says, his voice low and rough. “Thought I’d check if you needed help.”

You blink at him, confused. “It’s just water, Jungkook. I can manage.” He steps further into the room, closing the door halfway behind him. The quiet hum of the water filter fills the silence between you.

“I know…” he admits, his gaze never leaving yours. “But… I just… I had to see you.”

There’s something in his tone... hesitation, maybe desperation, or even vulnerability that catches you off guard. You clutch the water bottle tighter, unsure of what to say. The tension in the air feels almost unbearable, like a string stretched too thin between you, threatening to snap.

“Why?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his dark hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I don’t know.” he admits, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I just… uhh... seeing you with him...”

“Sunjae?” you interject, your brows knitting in confusion. The name tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.

The effect is immediate. Jungkook takes a sudden step forward, his entire frame taut with an energy that feels almost dangerous. His eyes darken, their intensity cutting through you like a blade. “Don’t say his name.” he murmurs, his tone low, sharp, and commanding.

The air between you shifts. When did it get this heavy? You don’t even realize you’re retreating until your back meets the cold wall behind you.

A shiver runs down your spine, though you’re not sure if it’s the chill of the wall or the heat radiating from Jungkook’s advancing figure. The room feels smaller now, the walls closing in, leaving only him and the electricity thrumming between you.

He’s close... too close... and yet not close enough. But he inches forward, the words still hang in the air, and Jungkook hesitates, his frustration now palpable. He reaches out, his hands finding your waist, pulling you towards him. The water bottle slips from your hold, rolling away across the floor.

You’re not sure when the line between resistance and surrender blurred, but here you are, breath hitching as Jungkook’s grip tightens, pulling your body flush against his. The space between seems to vanish.

This moment, so surreal and unexpected, pulls you in. You don’t understand it, but who are you to question it? It feels like this is exactly what you've been craving for days... months... even years.

The warmth of him envelops you, igniting a fire in your chest that spreads to your fingertips. It’s overwhelming and terrifying, but it’s also exhilarating.

“Jungkook…” you whisper, breathless, feeling his body as he pulls you in even closer. His grip tightens, pulling your waist to his as he presses you against the wall, your bodies completely aligned now.

The room seems to shrink, too small, too warm with him so close. His eyes search yours, as if looking for something, and you meet his gaze. His hands, tentative but urgent, slightly slide under the hem of your top near your waist, his fingertips cold against your skin.

You part your lips, letting out a shaky breath, your body responding instinctively. He leans forward, his forehead resting against yours, both of you closing your eyes in the quiet intimacy. The world outside seems to pause, as if holding its breath, waiting for what might happen next.

Your knees weaken, and you grip the collar of his t-shirt, pulling him in closer. The distance between you is evaporating, but just as it feels like everything is about to shift, a loud bang of your store's front door opening from outside the storeroom causes both of you to snap apart, startled.

“Y/n!!!” Seokjin’s voice rings out, cutting through the silence. Him again? Really? you wonder, frustration mixing with embarrassment. This is the second time now.

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses, his hands instinctively covering his face, a flush of heat rushing through him as he tries to regain control of his rapidly escalating emotions.

Seokjin’s voice blares again, louder this time, and that’s when it hits you. He cannot see you like this, especially not with Jungkook.

“Fuck.” you curse under your breath, panic rising. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You scramble to move away from Jungkook, quickly grabbing the water bottle that had been abandoned on the floor.

Jungkook’s eyes widen in confusion, his head tilting slightly. Before he can ask, you hurriedly whisper. “He can’t know you’re in here!” Your voice is urgent, shaking slightly as you glance towards the storeroom door.

Realization dawns upon him like a light switch, and he nods. You're right, someone catching the two of you alone in a secluded space like this? Not good. He rakes his hand through his hair, already understanding how awkward this would look.

“Stay here until you hear us leave.” you plead, your voice barely audible but dripping with desperation. “Please don’t come out for at least five minutes. Promise me!”

Jungkook leans against the wall, arms crossed, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite your panic. “Five minutes?” he repeats, teasing lightly, but he nods all the same.

“Yes, five.” you insist, holding up your palm in a gesture for emphasis, fingers spread wide. You’re already backing towards the door, the water bottle clutched tightly in your hands. “Y/n-ah! Are you done yet?” Seokjin’s voice echoes again, impatient.

You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep, calming breath before yelling back. “Coming, Jin !! Just give me a sec !!”

Jungkook chuckles quietly at your flustered state, finding your panic oddly amusing. “You’re really worked up about this, huh?” he lowly murmurs, clearly entertained.

“Not the time.” you hiss, glaring at him before stealing a quick peek behind the door to check if Seokjin has entered the passage. Thankfully, it’s still clear. “Five whole minutes, got it?” you repeat, your tone stern, gesturing the number with your palm again for emphasis.

Jungkook leans casually against the shelf, his smirk growing. “Yes, boss.” he teases lightly, earning an exasperated roll of your eyes. Satisfied, you push the storeroom door open just enough to slip out. But as Jungkook watches you leave, his amusement is replaced by surprise when you suddenly pause.

Before he can process what’s happening, you turn on your heel and bolt back towards him, still clutching the water bottle in your hands. His eyes widen in confusion.

You don’t give yourself a second to overthink it. Standing on your tiptoes, you press a quick, feather like kiss on his cheek. Your lips linger for just a heartbeat before you pull away, the warmth of his skin burning against your own.

“I’ll see you out there.” you whisper, your voice soft and rushed, like a secret carried on the wind. And then you’re gone. The door creaks shut behind you, leaving Jungkook standing there, frozen in your storeroom. His hand slowly rises to touch his cheek where your kiss still lingers, his pulse racing.

An amused chuckle escapes him, low and disbelieving. He doesn’t move for a moment, still processing, before shaking his head with a small laugh.

Five minutes, huh? He’ll give you ten, if only to catch his breath.

//

Seokjin is here because, unbeknownst to you, you’d been gone far longer than you realized. As the two of you step out of the shop, his curious gaze falls on you. “What took you so long?” he asks, his tone casual but laced with mild concern.

Your mind races, briefly recollecting the moments that delayed you. Heat rises to your cheeks, but you quickly mask it, shrugging as you reply. “The water filter was acting up.”

Seokjin nods, accepting your explanation without question, and together, you make your way back to the bustle of the town square. The hum of laughter and chatter grows louder as you rejoin the crowd gathered near the gazebo.

Spotting Mrs. Kim, you walk over, handing her the filled water bottle with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry for the delay.” you say earnestly. She waves you off with a warm smile, her kind demeanor easing the guilt that lingers in your chest. “It’s no trouble, dear... Thank you.” she sweetly says.

Minutes pass as you blend into the sea of familiar faces. Yet, your gaze is restless, scanning the space almost instinctively until it lands on him.

Jungkook.

He crosses the street with practiced ease, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he moves towards the gazebo where his friends sit. Though he tries to appear nonchalant, there’s a subtle weight to his stride, as though he’s aware of your eyes on him.

As he reaches his group and takes a seat, his dark eyes flicker across the crowd, until they lock with yours. And this time, the glance isn’t fleeting.

For the first time, the world doesn’t rush to pull you apart. His gaze holds yours, steady and unguarded, and you feel the edges of the universe blur. A shy smile tugs at his lips, one that mirrors your own, and in that moment, the air shifts.

It’s as though the tension that had wrapped so tightly around you both has unraveled, replaced by something gentler, warmer, a connection that hums like a quiet melody between your souls.

The world around you fades into a hazy backdrop. The night feels alive, not with chaos, but with a strange, unspoken understanding that flows between you and him like an electric current.

Soon enough, the barbecue flames dwindle, leaving behind glowing embers, and the volunteers begin to disperse, bidding each other goodnight. The air fills with the promise of something grand, a collective anticipation for tomorrow's fair.

The town settles under a blanket of stars, its streets shimmering with the preparations for the festivities to come. As your friends get ready to leave for the night, you glance towards the gazebo one last time, catching a glimpse of Jungkook as he laughs at something Yoongi says. He doesn’t look your way again, but that’s okay.

With a deep breath, you let the cool night air fill your lungs and start walking towards your shop, ready to lock up and head home. A quiet sense of peace settles within you, as if the evening had unfolded just as it was meant to... full of moments both subtle and meaningful.

<- part 7 // part 9 ->

series masterlist

taglist:@kimyishin @ghijkd @dolligguk @mimi1097 @jksusawife @yooforeaa @abbie1847 @myjungkookthighs @thesarcasmqueen-22 @fairypjminie @lovelytaes-blog @jjeonjjk7 @daddyjeonnn @vantelover1306 @jeeykey @shellyyy177 @daskewl @blackswan18 @korian97 @minimoninini @ericawantstoescape (lmk if i missed anyone<3)

[xo-adeline]

If somebody had told him a few years ago that this is where his life would have ended up, he would have called them fucking insane. The genius midfielder: Sae Itoshi, with tears in his eyes, promising to his partner that they would be forever.

It wasn't often you had ever seen Sae so on edge about something. All starting with an early morning for him, Usually it would go the same for him. Morning yoga and meditation before waking you up, if you weren't up already, to head downstairs and getting some salted kombucha for himself. Today however was a little different. Getting up at the same time as normal just to bypass the yoga and meditation to go get the ring he had hidden in his football bag. The one he had spent months picking just to make sure it was right, and even time making sure not to give it to you at the wrong point.

When you had woken up around the same time Sae normally would have finished his meditation and didn't see him there, saying you were confused would have been an understatement. Sae, the guy who lived on schedules and planners, wasn't doing much something in his routine? Strange. He was already downstairs when you finally made your way downstairs? Okay, whatever, maybe he came down early to get his- nope. He didn't even have his salted kombucha. What was going on with him?? You couldn't help but think that maybe he was sick or something, this was so unlike him... especially since every time you would ask him about something or even sightly look at him he would start turning red a little bit, even if he thought he was hiding it well. It was strange. the way he took you out on the town, something he normally wouldn't have time for especially since it was the football season.

The sunset was always pretty in Spain, how the orange, yellow, and the slightest bit of red colored the horizon. No matter how many times you saw it, the sunset still managed to impress you and look beautiful from the balcony of Sae's penthouse. The two of you were sitting out on his balcony, looking out of the horizon and soaking up the last bits of light for the day.

5:30PM on December 1st.

As you slightly leaned over the railing to enjoy the way the slightly cool air hit your face and the last sliver of the sunset that was still visible over the ocean front you didn't even notice that behind you Sae was almost in tears already. Thinking about how this could affect the rest of your lives. You two had talked about marriage only a few times as it had never really been an option with his busy schedule and his games throughout the seasons. As you turned around you would be faced with the same Sae that you had thought only had one facial expression, was now standing there, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

"It's not that I'm upset or anything. It's just that..."

He sighed, thinking about everything leading up to this moment and how he couldn't back out now. He didn't wanna back out now. This wasn't like a football match where he just had to create a good pass for somebody else, this was all him.

"It's just that there is so much I want to say, and I don't think I'll be able to say any of it..."

"Every day since we met I thought that there would be nothing holding me back from winning the Champions League, but I was clearly wrong. You. You are what keeps me from winning it."

Before you could say anything else he stopped you.

"Not because you're a bother or you need to apologize, it's because more than anything else I wanna stay with you. I wanna wake up with you every morning, go to bed with you every night, and make sure that you know that I love you more than anything else even if I don't always show it. So here. I know that due to my own selfish desires, I wanna make sure that even if we can't get married now, that everybody knows we're together. That you decided that even through all the fights, the good, the bad, and the lukewarm, you chose me."

And that's when it hit him, the second he pulled out that promise ring that had been tucked into the bottom of his football bag for months on end, and the way you nodded your head he couldn't help but let his emotions finally get the best of him. And in all the years that you had known him, it might have been the first time he had ever cried in front of you.

Not for tears of sadness, that he finally admitted that maybe something was more important than football for him. But for happiness, even if he couldn't bind himself for entirety to the person he loved most now, he at least knew in his heart that when he got to that point, you would say yes.

[lis-likes-fics]

spencer reid drabble

cw: mute!reader, american sign language usage, // means things said in sign

You look up as Emily comes in for the day. She’s a little late—only by a couple minutes—but it’s no big deal. She waves as she walks in. “Hey, everyone.” You all give her your greetings as she sets her purse on the desk (across from yours) with a hefty sigh. “How’s everyone doing?”

“Let’s see,” JJ says, twirling around in her chair and raising her cup. “Coffee, check. No case, double check. Doing great so far.”

You smile, leaning back in your own chair. You start to sign, your hands moving quickly as you go through a short recap. /Spencer got me this pastry from the bakery this morning, and it was so good./ Spencer’s voice easily narrates your movements.

“Sounds delicious,” Emily sighs, the sound so longing that you think she may be imagining a pastry of her own to munch on.

You’re selectively mute. As soon as you joined the team a few years ago, everyone loved you from the beginning. While they did their best in learning sign for you, Spencer was already a pro and did most of your translating.

He sits next to you—right now, at least. Hotch has gotten into the habit of separating the both of you when work gets slow. You indulge him and his distractions, even though you’re so quiet. You can’t be blamed! You like to listen to him speak. Who cares how much work is piling up?

It’s nice. You could go as fast as you wanted, and Spencer could always keep up with you. Sometimes when you were in the comfort of your own home, curled up on the couch with Spencer, neither of you would even say words. It would be a silent exchange where you would sit and “talk” for hours.

“Oh, damn it,” Emily mutters, sitting back in her chair and staring down at her lap. Her voice is laced with exasperation. “Not again.”

JJ hums. “Someone sounds cranky.” She peers over to get a better look at what’s going on.

A sharp breath passes through her. She starts toying with her belt, shaking her head briefly. “No, I just got this new belt a while ago, but it’s super crappy. This is my first time wearing it, and it keeps coming undone.” She fixes said belt, holding onto it like she’ll do it for the rest of the day if she has to. “If these pants weren’t so loose, I’d just take it off,”

You nod. Spencer speaks as you sign. “You should try Spencer.”

Everyone’s confused, including Spencer.

“‘Spencer’?” JJ wonders, eyeing you curiously, though amusement is shining in her gaze.

You have to hide your smile as you turn to Spencer, shaking your head gently. You go slow. /The clothes./

Spencer’s eyes immediately light up. “Oh!” he exclaims, turning back to everyone. He starts to sign as he speaks, and you’re not sure if he realizes he’s even doing it. “Sorry, suspenders. She’s saying you should try suspenders.”

Your laugh is silent, and you shake your head in your amusement. /Yeah. I used to wear them as a kid. I went through a phase./

They nod in understanding, but then Emily’s brow furrows and she chuckles. “Wait, do you call Spencer ‘Suspenders’?”

You shrug, glancing away. /They sound really similar…/ Spencer’s voice doesn’t match the quiet of your movements, but that’s okay.

He nods anyway. “Yeah. Emily, she calls you ‘Mystery’.”

Her face shines in surprise, a smile creeping on her lips. “Oh, cool,” she mutters.

JJ smiles big, leaning toward you and crossing her arms over her chest. Her interest is piqued now. “What about me?”

You purse your lips in the same way Spencer does, that awkward tight smile that you adore so much as you glance over at him. He mirrors your expression, clearing his throat and shrugging lightly. “She just signs J-2.”

Her shoulders drop a bit, her smile shrinking. “Oh,” she mumbles. A tiny sigh slips past her lips.

You rub your fist clockwise over your heart in apology. /It’s simple./

She shakes her head dismissively. “I get it.” She’s not really upset, but she had hoped for something more exciting. She turns back around to her desk to finish the work shining over her screen.

Emily looks at you past her computer, one brow raised with a curious grin. You forget how pretty she is sometimes. “Suspenders, huh?” she says quietly.

You shrug, your signs just between you and her. /He holds me up./ She laughs, muttering something about you being corny before she’s placing her attention back on her screen.

please support your content creators and give your feedback!

[revelboo]

Will you be writing for Earthspark Bee at all 🥹 I just started the series and he’s ✨everything✨

Sure. I’m going to have to make something of an update schedule at some point, because I’m well over 30 independent story lines at this point. I’m used to working on multiple projects at the same time, but I don’t think I’ve ever been outlining/writing any more than 6 projects at a time. Need to update the Masterlist, too

The Future Freaks Me Out

TF Earthspark x Reader

• Peds and servos scrabbling to stop his tumble down the hillside, he feels every strike when he hits trees and rocks on the way down. Processor still ringing from Soundwave’s attacks as the world blurs into greens and occasional flashes of blue sky before he slams into something hard. And then the darkness creeps in at the edges leaving him to hope Soundwave doesn’t come looking for him to finish the job while he’s helpless.

• Breath fogging in the chilly morning air, you adjust your backpack. Jogging along the leaf strewn trail, you stumble to a stop seeing a flash of yellow through the underbrush. Cautiously approaching, your breath catches in surprise. It’s one thing to see them on the news, but this is the first time you’ve ever seen a real Cybertronian before. And you recognize this one. Bumblebee. An autobot, but he looks like he’s seen better days. Optics shuttered as you crouch to study him, startling when he vents raggedly. Alive, but hurt.

• Soft, warm fingers brush the curve of one of the horns on his helm, then ghost over the back of his hand. Everything hurting, he lifts his head and the human stumbles back, tensed to bolt. He’d hoped for one of the Malto’s, but you’re a stranger. “You’re Bumblebee,” you say, shifting slightly on your feet. Knows not all humans like them, Autobot or Decepticon. You might help him or you might try to hurt him. And he can’t radio for help thanks to the damage Soundwave meted out.

• “I won’t hurt you,” he says, voice strained with pain. Trying to reassure you even though he’s the one hurt and your unease fades. Remember hearing about him as a kid, the stories that painted him a hero, though he’d gone missing years ago. And watching him shift, a door wing hanging awkwardly and seeing the energon seeping from his wounds, you want to help him.

• “I can get you help, tell me what to do.” Your words surprise him, because you owe him nothing. Makes him try to get to his peds, but his body won’t cooperate. Hurt worse than he’d realized from the fight before Soundwave had even thrown him over the side of the cliff. But he doesn’t know you. Can’t risk sending a stranger to the Malto’s. Wheeljack had been in the area testing drones, though. He’d not had a chance to radio him before Soundwave ambushed him, but it’s a chance. Because he’s not going anywhere on his own. A little trust. Trying to get his bearings, he weakly points in a direction and asks you to find Wheeljack. Hoping he’s not making a mistake, but you offer him a timid smile and cautiously touch the back of his hand again.

[susiekern]

wife me up - Gojo Satoru x y/n

a/n: wrote that at work, obv not proofread, my first time writing an actual y/n x character, so any feedback is appreciated

summary: when you first met Satoru, you didn't expected things to go that way, but an heir must do what is expected from them, right?

word count: 4,354

If someone would ask you about your relationship with Gojo Satoru, you'd probably cringe and say it was... complicated. But no one ever asked. They just assumed you'd already clicked, and things were great between you two. You were to get married after all. Well, if only it was that simple.

But let's start from the beginning.

You first met Satoru during an exchange event. He was a third-year student, already a living legend. You were a second-year and an heir to the y/s clan, its future. But back then, it didn't matter. When your paths crossed during a team battle and he saw you fight against Nanami Kento, he was impressed. Nanami was strong, probably a semi-first grade already only in his second year of high school. So at first, Gojo felt bad for a much smaller girl that stood in front of him. Surely that confident smirk on your lips would disappear in a minute or two. Imagine his surprise when you had won that fight, Nanami soon faced flat on the forest floor, bonded by shadows.

For a moment, Satoru was tempted to fight with you to see how long you could stand before losing. Whether you'd lose was not up to question. He was the strongest after all. But he also wasn't as ignorant as he painted himself to be. You would be a refreshing challenge if only he had time for a battle, even a short one. He had to follow the plan and complete the objective. So he left, giving you a last glance over his shoulder, catching your shiny eyes for a second or two.

You wouldn't meet again for many years, until a week after the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons. As a first-grade sorceress, you were in the middle of the battlefield when hell broke loose. Dealing with a special curse, with none other than Nanami Kento only a few meters behind your back, having his own fight and taking on a few curses at once. You've met throughout the years, first when he wanted to ask about your technique after the event, later keeping in touch and becoming friends.

Forming shadows into the blades, you send the final blow towards your enemy. You've been fighting for god knows how long already, exorcised dozens of curses, and it felt like you're still far from the end.

“I'll kill Geto myself, I swear. It was supposed to be my time off!” Nanami chuckles hearing you complain. He finished the last curse around and stood next to you for a moment.

“I'm sure Gojo’s taking care of it already.” You nodded and wiped your daggers of a mix created by fluids you didn't even want to list in your head. “I can also bet we're in a slightly better situation than Team Tokyo. Geto’s probably keeping the worst curses near himself.”

“You're doing a great job at encouraging me not to move to Tokyo. Kyoto seems so peaceful compared to your stories, and now this shit happens, and of course, Tokyo is right in the center.” Kento can't help but smile, even as he blocks a curse user attack a moment later, standing back to back with you.

“Isn't that why you're moving to Tokyo after New Year's? More action?” You decided not to answer, focusing back on the fight. Nanami didn't need to know the real reason behind your move. Besides, if everything goes according to your plan, soon you'll be able to forget all about it and enjoy the capital city as you wanted to since childhood.

---

Nothing went according to your plan.

When the elders invited you to a meeting, you expected to see your grandfather and a few others from your clan. Not grandpa, fucking elders of the big three families, and a couple more from clans you couldn't even name.

“Can't believe you're all here to discuss how I'm still single.” Your joke was ignored, rude. Grandpa started the same speech you've already heard hundreds of times. You're an heir, there's a responsibility you need to take and stand up to the expectations, blah blah. What you didn't expect was for the head of the Kamo family, a man probably in his 60s with a long black braid, to speak up.

“I don't think you understand the value of your grandfather's words, y/n y/s. In current times, families like yours, with a long history and such unique techniques, matter more than your humors. That's why, as elders, we all decided what will happen. Either you marry a man from one of the Three Families in the next two years or Yume does it. The choice is yours.”

You could feel your heart stop. In two years? Yume would be barely 16 if they even allowed her to wait for so long. Your sister hasn’t even started high school yet, and they threatened to marry her off? You shot a look of betrayal at your grandfather, but the man sitting there wasn't the same one who taught you basic defense or how to control your cursed energy. You were looking at the head of y/s family, the one who'd do anything to secure the future and position of the name. Even if it cost him his granddaughters. Your heart started beating again, but this time it was powered by anger as you went over options in your head.

But there was nothing you could do to protect both you and your sister. Even if you rebelled, she was under your grandpa's protection and control, you weren't her legal guardian, and she was still in Kyoto. The memory of a lively teenager who blabbered non-stop about how excited she was to start high school soon filled you with almost physical pain. You took a deep breath in, trying to suppress the urge to hurt as many elders in this room as you could before they'd kill you and start choosing a wedding dress for Yume.

“Who am I marrying?”

“I knew you were more reasonable than you pretend to be.” The head of your family, once your grandpa, smiled at you, ignoring the way your face turned in disgust. “We have come to an agreement about securing both y/s and Gojo family lineage by this marriage.”

“Gojo? But... isn't there only one living member?” Your question seemed to amuse some of the elders.

“Yes. You're to marry Gojo Satoru.”

Fucking hell.

---

A few days later you were set to meet with Satoru in a cafe close to Jujutsu High, a place he chose, and when your grandfather asked if you agreed, you simply nodded.

So that's how you ended up sitting with a mug in your hands, eyes fixed on the view behind a wall-tall window. You barely made it on time, but you remembered how many times Nanami complained about Gojo being always late. And apparently meeting his future wife was no exception, you thought when the white-haired man finally stepped into the cafe, looked your way, and first ordered something at the counter before sitting in the chair in front of you. Seeing him open his mouth, you decided to beat him and have the first, and hopefully the last, word.

“I'm not going to become a stay-at-home and cook-the-dinner wife. I'm not giving up my career as a sorceress. And I'm not giving birth to any heirs until I decide to.”

Gojo closed his mouth and was silent for a few seconds. Then he giggled. Giggled.

“Gojo Satoru, nice to meet you too.” He managed to say between laughs and hold his hand out to you. “I know that situation is... inconvenient, but what happened to at least polite introductions?”

You sighed and shook his hand for a second.

“Y/n y/s. You know we've met before, right?”

“Of course. I could never forget a woman who beat Nanamin in less than five minutes. I'm just trying to do this right.” He grinned at you. The situation is shitty, but at least the views are pleasant, you thought to yourself, noticing the dimples in his cheeks.

“With that being said..." Suddenly he got serious, pulled his sunglasses on top of the white hair, and looked into your eyes, hands resting at the table. “I'd never expect anyone to give up their job because of a marital status change. Especially not a sorceress as talented as you, y/n. And I don't expect an heir, at least not now or anytime soon. I want you to understand that I'm not going to force you into anything. The only reason I agreed to this is that I've had enough threats and debates on how I'll keep my clan existing if I can't find a wife. And guessing by your words and evident repulse at the thought of carrying an heir now, you're not exactly doing it to make your dreams come true too.”

You listened carefully to Satoru’s words, and you felt like at least a bit of weight had been lifted from your shoulders. This whole thing could be a lot easier if you're both on the same page.

“It was either me or my younger sister. And I'm not letting these old assholes marry a 14-year-old off to god knows who.” Satoru nodded and leaned back in the chair.

“So, you're moving to Tokyo? Now that you'll have a fiancé here?” He asked, a little smile back on his face.

“Already on the move. Although the apartment I applied for rejected me, apparently single women in their twenties are not the perfect tenants.” You sighed, thinking about your stuff in storage and an uncomfortable hotel bed you've slept in for the past few days. Gojo seemed to be lost in his thoughts for a moment before a waitress pulled him out of it by putting his coffee and a piece of chocolate cake on the table.

“Thanks.” He smiled her way, and poor girl, bless her sweet soul, almost ran away, blushing and giggling.

“How exactly were you unable to find a wife if you just gave this girl a heart attack by just smiling?” The man in front of you almost choked on his salted caramel double sweet cream latte when he heard your question.

“I'm not… It's not like... unimportant." Wiping a drop of liquid from his chin, he grabbed your phone with his free hand, put it in front of your face, and smiled triumphantly when face ID did its job. You were too stunned with his audacity to even ask what he was doing, instead looking as he tapped the screen.

“Here.” Finally, he gave you your phone back, the maps app opened, and an address was saved in it.

“Here…?” You repeated, probably the most confused you've been in your whole life.

“Move in here.”

“Gojo, I swear to god, if you don't explain what you're talking about, I'll lose my mind.” Giggle escaped his mouth, and blue eyes seemed to shine with... you weren't sure with what. Excitement? Mischief? Amusement?

“That's my home. That will be ours anyway when we get married. And knowing the shitheads’ elders are, they'll try to monitor if we're not fucking with them and if we're producing heirs.” You cringed at his word choice, even though he was probably right. “So let's fuck with them for real and act like we're delighted about this situation. They'll leave us alone, and we can always say we're having... issues with making an heir. That's not really something they can verify or control.”

You couldn't believe you were actually thinking about it. As crazy as it sounds, it made sense. Elders had way too much free time, and if they noticed you two not even trying, they'd intervene immediately. But living with Satoru? You just met, and it sounded surreal to even think about. “I have like two spare bedrooms, and with my work, I'm barely home anyway.” He decided to add like he was reading your mind.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

---

And that takes us to the present moment. It’s been a bit over a year since you moved in. Satoru wasn’t lying when he said he was barely home, but during the rare days off, you actually got closer. You probably could say you’re close friends now. You were also two adults working a stressful job, spending most of your free time together, which caused awkward situations from time to time. A glance here and there, a touch that lasts just a second too long to come off as casual, jokes that stopped being jokes at one point, turning to propositions filled with sexual tension instead. But neither you nor Satoru went further with it, brushing it off and changing the topic to something painfully casual.

Satoru thought you were actually making fun of him and his evident crush, while you saw it as a challenge of sorts, wondering how far you could go before he’d make a move or stop you. And ever since Satoru got you a gift and a cake with “Happy Anniversary” on it, exactly a year after you met in the cafe, you got impatient. And bolder in your moves.

You’d accidentally leave your clothes in your room, so, oh no, you need to walk through the entire house wrapped in a towel. Laying your legs over his lap, just a bit too close to his zipper. Insisting on checking on ALL of his wounds if he ever got hurt on the missions (that one happened only maybe two times so far, damn infinity).

“Maybe he just doesn’t like me. You know, like that.” You said one day, sitting with Shoko during her lunch break. You’ve known Ieiri for almost a decade now, you’ve met when she patched you up after an encounter with a special grade curse. She was the only one who knew exactly what your situation looked like.

“I’d have to be blind to believe that. Last week when we went for drinks and you got ready at my place? He almost choked on his own tongue. And he might wear this stupid blindfold or glasses, but it’s easy to guess where he’s looking.” Your friend shook her head and checked the time. “I still think you should make the first move. Better now than in a few years when you actually decide to make an heir. That’d be awkward.”

“God, don’t even say shit like that.”

“Speaking of heirs. How’s Yume?” Ieiri smoothly changed the topic. She loved you, truly, but watching that weird dance between you and Satoru made her regret some life choices.

“Good. I think she likes Tokyo more than Kyoto, and Gojo said she’s getting along with others.”

Yume started school last summer, and after a few months, she asked you if there was any chance of transferring to Tokyo High. She didn’t fit in at Kyoto, and you weren’t exactly surprised. After being around Tokyo school so much in the last year, Kyoto felt like a military camp in comparison. Yume was way too fragile for it, and her moving also meant you’d be around if she needed you. That’s how she ended up here, joining Satoru’s first years.

“Okay. I’ve got to go. I have a mission with Nanami, and he’ll kill me if I’m late.” You got up when your phone vibrated on Ieiri’s desk, a reminder about the meeting with Kento soon bright on the screen. You still wanted to say bye to Yume, something you did before every mission, just in case. You kissed Shoko’s cheek as she wished you good luck and left her office, heading towards the stadium. Chilly March air didn’t exempt the kids from training.

The first thing you’ve noticed when you get there is Satoru lying on the bench, probably taking a much-needed nap. When he came back from a week-long mission two days ago, he barely made it to his bedroom before falling asleep, or maybe passing out, you weren’t sure. Yesterday he spent most of the day sleeping off, only leaving the bed in the evening to eat the dinner you’ve prepared and watch a movie together. From what he told you, he only took a few two- or three-hour naps when he was away, and after a week even his body protested.

“Oh, y/s-san!” Itadori was the first to notice you, your sister, who sat next to him, focused on watching Megumi and Maki spar, abruptly turned, and made her way to you.

“I was wondering if you’d make it before leaving.” Yume said while being pulled into your arms for a hug.

“Sorry, kid. Had lunch with Shoko, and I overlooked the time.”

“How long you’ll be gone?” She asked after you pulled away, letting her breathe properly.

“I don’t know. Probably a few days.” That answer didn’t make your sister any less anxious. She wanted to become a sorceress herself, and she knew it was a dangerous job, but every time you were assigned a mission, Yume wanted to stop you from going.

“Be careful. And text me. And watch out.”

“Oi, mini-y/n, your sister is one of the best first-grade sorceresses, and she’s going with a special grade partner. She’ll be fine.” The teenager frowned when Gojo appeared out of nowhere next to her, and he ruffled her hair. “You’re up next with Nobara. Say bye-bye and go to her before she kills someone.”

Yume got on her toes to kiss your forehead, and without another word, she ran off towards the rest of the students. You sighed and looked at Satoru. He ditched his blindfold for a pair of sunglasses today, something he often did after longer missions, you’ve noticed. His hands were deep in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie, the same one you’d sometimes steal from his closet.

“She’s paranoid, but she’s right. Be careful.”

“You’ve said it yourself, first grade and special grade. I’ll be fine.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Mr. Protection, going with you makes me feel a bit better, honestly.” Gojo smiled as you laughed at Nanami’s nickname, but before you could make a joke about it, he leaned forward and left a gentle kiss at the same spot Yume kissed a moment ago.

“Everything’s going to be fine, chill out guys.” You whispered just as Nanami entered the stadium and yelled at you to hurry up. When you turned back to Gojo, he was already back on his bench.

---

Everything went wrong.

That sentence was stuck in your head for the past few hours, when after five long days you were almost back home. Your torso was aching under the warm hoodie, and tight bandages were constantly pushing on sensitive skin, a similar situation on your thigh. Nanami, sitting in the driver’s seat, looked only a bit better, but you knew about a tightly bandaged wound on his chest.

“You’re sure you don’t want Shoko to look at it?” He asked for the hundredth time, and you’d argue about his protectiveness, but exhaustion was taking over.

“I just want to be home already.” Kento only nodded, hearing your tired answer, and the rest of the journey was silent, only soft music playing in the background.

You agreed earlier that he’d drop you off at home and drive to Jujutsu High on his own to report to Yaga and let Shoko patch him up. Maybe in a different order. Half an hour later, you climbed a few steps to the front door and opened it with trembling hands, almost dropping the keys twice. Nanami drove off only after the door closed behind you. It was fairly early in the evening, and guessing by the darkness in every room, Satoru wasn’t home yet. You dropped the duffel bag on the floor, almost falling next to it. Instead, you’ve made your body move to the bathroom and draw a warm bath, something your muscles would thank you for tomorrow.

---

While you tried to relax at least a little bit, Nanami made it to the base and went straight to Shoko’s office. The report could wait a bit longer, his wound that just wouldn’t stop bleeding probably couldn’t.

“Fucking hell, what happened to you?” Ieiri almost dropped a glass when he showed her ripped skin. She quickly got rid of the blood-soaked bandages and asked him to lie down.

“First grade my ass. There were two and one that I’d classify as a special grade.” The blonde man groaned, lowering himself on the bed as slowly as he could.

“How’s y/n?” Before he could answer, the doors opened, and Megumi stepped inside, his teacher right behind him. Fushiguro was holding his arm with the opposite hand, blood dripping down his shirt.

“Shoko, can you fix Megu- Nanamin?” Gojo almost stumbled, noticing the man. He took one look at his wounded chest, and the playful smile he walked in with was gone. “Where’s y/n?”

“Relax, she’s at home. She wasn’t as injured, and the guy in Akita healed the most of it.” Kento said, and before he could explain any further, the white-haired man was already gone. “Knight in a blindfold to the rescue.”

Shoko laughed and signaled Megumi to sit in a chair before focusing on Nanami’s wounds, murmuring something about kids and blindness.

---

You were out of the bath, making a cup of tea in the kitchen. Your body felt a lot better after soaking in warm water, finally out of the tight clothes, opting for an oversized t-shirt instead, fresh bandages on both thigh and torso. Slowly relaxing in the comfort of home, the shirt that smelled like Satoru’s perfume, favorite mug on the counter.

Finally putting your guards down. That’s also why you haven’t noticed an outburst of cursed energy in front of the house, where Satoru warped, since walking or driving would take too long. And after seeing Nanami’s injuries, he needed to see you’re okay.

“Y/n?!” His voice pulled you out of the exhaustion, and before you could even answer, he was already in the doorway, having traced your energy. He took his blindfold off, making slow steps towards you, looking at every millimeter of your body he could see.

“Hi, Toru.” You said, almost shyly, fully aware of his intense stare on your bandaged leg, shirt not doing much to hide it. Finally, his eyes met yours, he took a deep breath in, and you could swear he was about to scold you. He didn’t.

Satoru took one more step your way, and in the blink of an eye, you were sitting on the counter, his warm body between your legs and arms around your back in a gentle embrace. You slowly wrapped your own arms around his neck, feeling him lean his head onto your shoulder.

“What the fuck happened?” He asked quietly. His voice was low and raspy, filled with emotions you couldn’t name properly.

“There were three curses instead of one. But I’m okay, really. Kento took the worst blows on himself.” Your fingers instinctively tangled into snow-white hair, nails gently scratching the skin. You felt how Gojo got tense at first, slowly relaxing. You were safe at home, you weren’t bleeding out, and he was holding your body in his arms. The nerves that filled his mind as soon as he saw Nanami were disappearing with each breath you took close to his ear, each pass of your fingers through soft hair, and every second he spent surrounded by your warmth and scent.

“I almost had a heart attack when I saw Nanami’s wound. All I could think about was if you got a similar one.” Satoru whispered after a few moments. One of his hands was now caressing your back, but he wasn’t sure if it was supposed to calm you or him. Another minute or so later, he gently pulled away, but he was still so close that if you leaned forward, your lips would meet. And Toru seemed to think about it too, his eyes now focused on your lips. “I’ll explain to Yaga why next time if you’re not paired with me, you’re not going.”

“Don’t blame Kento. He saved my life probably more times than I could count on this mission alone.” He smiled softly, like he was amused by what you said.

“I’m not blaming him. He looks like a damn Jigsaw played on his chest, obviously, he did his best.” His forehead leaned onto yours, and you can now feel his lips on yours, gentle touches, almost ghostly, with every word. “But I’m responsible for protecting my future wife. I can do that without getting a cut. So next time you’re taking your fiance with yo-” He didn’t finish. You didn’t let him. Grabbing the collar of his uniform, you barely needed to move to kiss him. And Satoru reacted in less than a second, cupping your cheek with one hand, the other one gently on top of the bandaged thigh.

After a year of thinking, wondering what kissing Satoru would feel like, dreaming about it even, you finally know. And you don’t know what’s with this man, but this feeling—his soft lips on your, tongue slowly exploring your mouth, a gentle bite on your lower lip—was addictive. Just one taste left you hungry for more, mind almost clouded as he pulled away slightly, pulling a quiet moan from you with him. He grinned proudly, looking deep into your glazed eyes, thumb caressing your cheekbone down to the jaw.

“I may rethink this whole producing an heir thing.”

And just like that, the thick mood is gone as you start to laugh, leaning your forehead on Gojo’s collarbone.

“I’m serious. Yaga can’t send you on missions like that one if you’re carrying an heir of not one, but two families.” You shook your head and looked up to him.

“Slow down, Romeo. We kissed after a year of engagement, at least wife me up before talking about any heir.” You joked and pecked his lips one more time.

“Next weekend?”

“Sure, love.”

Only a week later, you realize Satoru wasn’t joking.

[thefanficmonster]

What friends are for...

Declan O'Hara x Reader (Female) [Rivals TV]

Warnings: SPOILERS for Rivals S1, Mild Infidelity, Recreational Drinking, Swearing

Genre: Best friend's dad (Reader is 21 years old), Romance, Fluff

Summary: Y/N is typically good under pressure. But with alcohol lowering her inhibitions, allowing a brewing crush to swim up to the surface, she panics a little when she needs to pull through for her friend Taggie

"Alright, doll. I've had enough watching you run around this kitchen like Cinderella. Go on and mingle with the bourgeoisie." Y/N sighs, swiftly stealing the plates Taggie was carrying with one arm while her free hand cradles a glass of whiskey.

She carries the plates over to the sink, letting Taggie's complaints play in the background as background noise as she finishes off her fourth drink of the night and sets the glass down in the sink.

"Do you see this mess?! I can't possibly let loose knowing all this work is waiting for me at the end of the party." Taggie grumbles, folding her arms over her chest, "Besides, I don't even like most of those people."

Y/N can't help but gasp dramatically at that proclamation. In all the years she's known Taggie, she's never once managed to pry out a bad criticism from her in regards to anyone. She'd have to pat spy-like attention to her best friend's facial expressions in order to gauge all those feelings she knows she'd never say out loud.

Y/N had originally formed a friendship with Patrick who was in her grade at school. However, she formed an even stronger bond with his year younger sister. It's a girls' thing, she'd tell Patrick, we're all wired to be closer to one another than we'll ever be to a man.

And her statement still rings true nearly a decade later. It's Patrick's birthday and yet Y/N is finding far greater entertainment in the kitchen with Taggie rather than mingling with the crowd of London high society. She gets more than enough interaction with them during her daily internship at the Corinium, she doesn't need her New Year's Eve poisoned by them as well.

That being said, she shares Taggie's sentiment to the full extent. But she's not about to let up on her convincing, not with Rupert Campbell-Black in attendance.

"You don't have to like them all, Tag. One sometimes makes all the difference. And that certain one of yours is in the building, no doubt looking for you amongst the crowd. Yet you're cooped up here, dodging him as if he matters to you as much as those grease-pole climbers and cheaters." Y/N playfully scolds her.

"Don't speak ill of the cheaters, they are his prime area of expertise." Taggie chuckles into the back of her hand as if shocked by the words coming out of her own mouth.

Y/N snorts, throwing a smirk her friend's way over her shoulder, "I don't remember ever saying any names and yet you knew exactly who I was implying. Hmm...." The older girl teases, only to have a dish rag tossed at her head by a blushing Taggie.

"You're in-insufferable, you know that?!" She says, glaring daggers at her best friend.

Y/N laughs heartily, stepping away from the sink. She reaches one hand behind herself, starting to unfasten the corset she has on to keep her emerald dress snug and tight while using her free hand to pinch Taggie's cheek, "And you're absolutely adorable when you're flustered, love." She uses that same hand to yank Taggie's shirt free from her jeans, "Get that off, hun. Don't worry, I'm not looking." She adds the last part with a laugh and a roll of her eyes as she continues battling with the lace fastenings of her corset.

If it were anyone else asking - or rather instructing - her to do this, Taggie would've probably protested and refused. However, if there's one thing she's learned over the nearly decade long friendship with Y/N is that, although her ideas sound like trouble, they're always a recipe for a good time. Tag wouldn't exactly say she's had an exciting life but those pockets of adventure and excitement and thrill that she can recall she owes to Y/N. And so, she complies, lifting her shirt over her head just as her friend frees herself from her corset, causing her dress to hang more loosely around her body but still catching on her curves at certain areas.

"Good, turn around for me." Y/N instructs yet again as she unclips Taggie's bra before quickly putting the corset on her, glad they didn't flash anyone in the split second the action took. Once she's finished lacing it up, Y/N's hands lazily rest on her best friend's shoulders, turning her around to see if her vision looks just as good in reality as it did in her mind. "Dashing, my darling. Take a deep breath for me, hm?"

Tag again complies without complaints, expanding her chest with a deep inhale to see if the corset needs any loosening but it is perfectly snug, still allowing her to breathe freely though. "You really think so?" The younger girl asks, a hopeful twinkle in her eyes.

"I swear on all that's dear to me, love." Y/N says, giving Tag's shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "One more thing...", she mumbles, leaning in to press a kiss to each of Taggie's cheeks, leaving behind lipstick stains on her skin which she later smears to give her a natural looking blush. "Voila! Now go knock Campbell-Black off his high horse and into your bed, doll."

Using the grip she has on the girl's shoulders, Y/N practically ushers her out of the kitchen and into the sea of partygoers before retreating into the quiet solitude herself.

She enters her fairy godmother mindset as she prances around the kitchen, cleaning up the mess around the kitchen, letting the rhythm of the music carry her movements. She periodically refills a new whiskey glass she got from the cupboard. She had really intended for it to be her last drink when she set her previous glass in the sink earlier but she gave up when she saw Mr. O'Hara's whiskey collection. With all these people around, she's certain she'll get away with sneaking a couple glasses of one of the more expensive looking bottles.

"Ah, I see the kitchen mouse has gotten into the good stuff."

Y/N damn near chokes on the amber liquid she just downed when she hears the voice of none other than Declan O'Hara.

She turns around slowly like a scene from a horror movie, or rather a kid getting caught red-handed stealing from the cookie jar. Only worse, more embarrassing considering this isn't her house. Although if she were to say that out loud all three O'Hara siblings and their father would be quick to tell her off.

An array of apologies circles around her head, none sufficient enough to mend the situation - especially not when Declan is smirking at her like that from the kitchen doorway, hands in his pockets. So, instead she settles for the truth: "I was hoping you wouldn't catch me."

Declan only chuckles in response, the sound rich and sweetened by the numerous drinks he's had throughout the night. He's nowhere near drunk but he's had enough to drink to accentuate his natural charm and charisma, softening his otherwise sharp edges.

Edges nearly everyone at Corinium has been cut on since he started working there. And when I say 'nearly' I mean very few have managed to avoid Declan O'Hara's spitfire - Y/N being one of the lucky few despite typically being bad at following orders due to her stubbornness. She isn't sure what exactly it is about her best friend's father that tames that snippy, downright bratty side of her. All she knows is that when he looks at her with those warm, kind eyes and asks rather than tells her to do something, adding a little 'darling' or 'love' at the end, she folds like a house of cards in the wind.

Declan strolls in with an easiness in his step, his eyes never leaving her. As he nears her vicinity, he holds out his own glass, "Care to treat me to my own whiskey, sweetheart?"

Well would you look at that - there she goes folding again. Or more so melting into a puddle at his feet on the tiled kitchen floor.

Words have dispersed into unconnected letters in her head and all she can manage to do is nod as she picks up the whiskey bottle with a trembling hand, pouring a good amount into his glass.

"Thanks, love." He gives her a lopsided smile, lifting his glass, "To the new year."

Y/N is suddenly reminded that she is still in one piece physically - not a pathetic puddle of herself - and in turn she needs to function like a normal human being and avoid embarrassment that will keep her up at night for the upcoming century.

She schools her expression in a faux easy smile as she clinks her glass against his, "To the new year." she repeats before they both take a sip of the lovely whiskey Y/N had helped herself to.

After taking a moment of silence to revel in the pleasure of the amber liquid burning its way down his throat, Declan's eyes focus on her, giving her a head-to-toe scan before speaking, "Where'd your corset go?"

Her heart skips a beat at both the way his gaze is running over the length of her body and the question that insinuates he'd noticed her outfit to begin with. His eyes on her feel like a palpable heat, almost like the feather like touch of a hand. "I-I, um, I lent it to Taggie for a bit. I wanted to doll her up a little and force to enjoy herself. Let loose a little."

Declan nods, a small hum leaving his throat, "Well you've done a good deed, my dear. And a great job taming the kitchen into something presentable. You're a great friend, dear. I'd say you've earned your stolen whiskey." He adds the last part with a quick wink that turns her brain to pudding.

Y/N smiles in response although she wants to absolutely kick herself for involuntarily making bedroom eyes at said friend's dad. She cannot seem to morph her expression into anything other than an openly 'well I'll be damned...' look. So she opts to look away from him instead.

"Oh please, sir, it's nothing. That's what friends are for..." She instinctively takes a sip of her drink to cool down only to be rudely reminded it's whiskey and it has the complete opposite effect to the one she was hoping for.

Speaking of a friend's duties...

Just over Declan's shoulder, Y/N catches glimpse of Rupert and Taggie in the comfortable embrace of one another on the dance floor. Although, judging by the proximity of their faces, dancing isn't their priority at the moment. A split second and a millimeter is all it would take for Y/N to rejoice that her agenda had been successful.

But that's also precisely what it would take for Declan to catch sight of it and lose his everloving shit which would undeniably cause a rift in the mission.

Just to the girls' luck, the moment Rupert's lips touch Taggie's is the exact moment Declan starts turning around - or at least that's how Y/N perceives it.

And Y/N would be damned if she let him.

Before she can think better of it, the alcohol in her system takes a seat behind the wheel and all rational thinking is tossed out the window. At least that's the only way she can explain her following actions.

There isn't a single sober thought behind it when her hands firmly rest on Declan's shoulders, instantly grabbing his attention and prompting him to turn to face her once more. And in that split second, Y/N pushes up on her tippie toes, her lips colliding with his in a kiss that momentarily stuns them both.

The last bit of sobriety fights to regain control of her mind mere seconds after their lips come in contact. It's not much but it's enough to scream at her to pull the fuck away and then run the fuck away. And she would've done just that had Declan's hands not come up to wrap around her waist and pull her closer, his head tilting to the side to deepen the kiss which she instinctively - and eagerly - allows.

All thoughts - both sober and drunk - fall silent in her head. The party in its entirety falls silent around her. All she can hear is her own heartbeat in her ears, mingled with his slightly labored breathing as the kiss reaches new heights in passion and heat with each passing second until they both run out of breath - the lack of oxygen being the only thing to force them apart, not at all the notion of how wrong what they're doing is.

Again, apologies stack themselves sky-high in her brain but none reach her whiskey coated tongue. Instead, she looks up at him wide-eyed and breathless, her now lipstick-void lips parted as she blurts out the first thought that manages to slip past the fog of shock.

"Taggie's gonna kill me"

Declan's own stunned expression gives way to a wide smile as he chuckles breathlessly at her panicked statement, "What she doesn't know won't hurt her, darling."

Even in the midst of her panic and moral crisis, Y/N can't help the flutter in her heart at the petname. "You....you won't tell her, will you?"

Declan clicks his tongue, shaking his head as one of his hands comes up to cup her cheek, "Of course not, my dear. I can keep a secret. That's what friends are for, after all."

Y/N is just about to throw all hesitance to the wind and lean into him fully, reconnect their lips and give herself over to him entirely when - for better or for worse - the clicking of heels approaches the kitchen entrance, sending them on opposite sides of the room like same charges of a magnet. The poor flustered girl is left frazzled, standing on weak knees without Declan's arms to hold her up. Luckily, however, she finds herself on the side of the kitchen where the door to the backyard offers her solitude and salvation within arm's reach. And she takes it a mere second before Maud strolls into the kitchen to show her husband a fraction of the affection she's been showering the other partygoers with all night.

Regardless of the state of Declan and Maud's marriage and their relationship as a whole, what they just did is wrong from all angles and aspects. It's a betrayal to Maude, to Taggie, to Caitlin and Patrick, to Y/N's parents who Declan has known and been friends with for years.

And as such they deserve to be drowning in guilt and remorse for their actions.

One problem: they're not. Not in the slightest. Especially not Declan who cannot seem to tear his gaze away from the backdoor Y/N disappeared through even as his wife finally graces him with her attention and presence.

Attention, presence and affection Y/N would love to give to him and only him. No division or sharing, no inhibitions or reservations.

No wrong or right.

Just a little secret amongst....friends

[lokidjarin-7567]

The Prophecy

Viktor x Reader When the friend of your youth, Viktor, sees you still living in the Undercity, and working in a strip club at that, he is determined to reconnect, and rekindle a childhood friendship that was rooted in something more. fem!reader, fluff, angst and smut all in one folks, 18+ MDNI, a few physical features described but still reader insert I think, both Viktor and you POVs, long-ass one shot 8.1k words Taglist: @night-fall-moon @zsuzsu321 @sh1zhu @circeinspace @casualjagodek @retrokatz @am-3-thyst @xlittlemissydjx @sseleniaa Hi guys, thanks for bearing with my while I've been working on this one!! I have been absolutely obsessed with this man ever since I finished Arcane, so I just had to write something about him! I also think a lot of people mischaracterise him, so I tried really hard to get his personality right - let me know if I actually have lol. Anyone who knows my works knows how slutty my smut can get lol, but this is actually quite tender so a new one for me too. Anyway, I'll stop waffling now, I hope you enjoy. TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

Viktor was lost in thought as he made his way back to Piltover, small tube of Shimmer tucked away in his satchel. He didn’t know what to do. Using it might stabilise the Hexcore, allowing it to keep the plants alive and accomplish everything he and Jayce had been working towards for years, maybe even curing this sickness that had taken over him, or…

Or it could end horribly.

The undercity was as dark and unpleasant as he remembered it. He had never fit in here in his youth - too scrawny, too bookish, and with his leg, he stood no chance. And now was no different.

The neon store signs stood out against the blackened buildings and muddy streets. This part of the city, deep in the underbelly of Zaun, seemed busier than the rest, roads bustling with call girls and salesmen and tourists from Topside taking their pick of unruly establishments. Hundreds of voices layered atop each other in a cacophony of harsh laughter, garish music and argumentative tones. There was barely space to walk, especially with his cane, and he was starting to wonder if this journey was even worth it.

Then something caught his eye. A flash of red, deep and vibrant, moving towards him on the far side of the lane. It was hair, bouncy and curly and his subconscious told him it was shorter than it should’ve been, but it was a colour he knew. Her face wasn’t one he could place at first, but as she got closer, he saw the freckles that smattered across her nose like a constellation, the full, pink lips that were perpetually curled into a soft frown, the blue-grey of her eyes that she always accentuated with brown liner. It was her.

The only friend of his youth. A young girl who used to sit behind the foliage near the water where he tested his inventions. She was shy, even shyer than he used to be, too scared to ask him anything about what he was making for a long time, just watching with curious eyes. But he would never forget the day she moved closer. The way her long, burgundy curls flowed around her, almost touching the floor, the way she was trying her best to be confident, but there was a soft shake in her hand, and a slight stutter as she said hello. Then she produced a small invention of her own - a submarine, the same colour as her hair, designed to float perfectly so the periscope was the only thing that peeked out from the surface.

For years, they were inseparable. She was more artistic than him, always adding a flair to her designs that he didn’t have, so he’d let her ‘improve’ his too. They would play together, and then as they got older, build together, each creation more daring and experimental. And then they started to drift apart. They were in their mid teens when her mother got sick, and she couldn’t make it out as much. Viktor always offered to help, but she refused, not even allowing him to see where she lived. And so, when Professor Heimerdinger found him and offered him an opportunity to be his assistant, he couldn’t even tell her. He left a note, delicately placed under a rock where they would build together, telling her where to find him and how to get in touch, but he never heard anything.

And now here she was. He called out her name softly, not wanting to alarm her in this hostile city, but she didn’t hear. She’d walked past him now, so he turned, following but she was walking fast, faster than he could manage. He called out again, but it wasn’t until then that he noticed the headphones over her ears. She couldn’t hear a thing. He carried on, hoping she would stop but she didn’t. If it was anyone else, he would’ve gone home, given up, but now he’d caught a glimpse of her, he had to see her. To talk to her. To find out why she never got in touch. To apologise for leaving her behind.

She disappeared from view for a moment, and he panicked, thinking he’d lost her again, but he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, entering an alley beside a row of bars and clubs. He grimaced, following her to see the red locks just moving out of sight again, and a bouncer closing the door behind her. He tried to follow her into the building, but the man stopped him.

“Please…” he asked, out of breath, “it’s an old friend, I need to see her…”

“Staff entrance only, pal. You’ll have to go ‘round the front like everyone else.”

“But… she’s right there… I only need one moment, if she just saw me…” The words died on his lips. Would she even recognise you?

“Don’t make me ask you twice.”

It was dark inside the club, the lights low apart from on the stage and around the bar. It was only mid afternoon, but the place was near full of lowlifes just starting their evenings, sloshing their drinks and talking loudly. The neon from outside carried into this space too, strip lights around the platforms accentuating their presence. There were dancers atop each of them, but he averted his eyes. He shouldn’t have come here. This was so far from his comfort zone, loud and unruly, a long way away from his lab, but he had to see her. He couldn’t let her go again.

He found a stool by the bar, ordering a soda and waiting for her to start her shift. There was no way he could miss her again if he was right here when she started.

And then he saw her at the very edge of his vision, as though his eyes were programmed to search her out in any crowd. She was on stage, cherry red hair glowing in the soft lights, combined with the neon from below making her look like a ghost, ethereal. What was she doing up there?

***

“Afternoon, Joey.” You muttered to the bouncer, and he opened the door for you wordlessly as you slipped off your headphones, replacing your perfectly selected playlist with the sleazy music of the club. Just one of the many reasons you hated working here. You were running late, as per, throwing your things in your locker and quickly changing. Lacing up your shoes always took the longest time, and you barely even had a chance to check yourself in the mirror when you were finished. Your hair looked perfect at least, the naturally burgundy curls sitting at shoulder length. You missed the long hair of your youth, but it become impractical very quickly, and the memories it held… you ended up cutting it all off soon after your mum died. That was when you started working here too. You’d had dreams, of course you did, but growing up in the Undercity made it almost impossible to follow them. There were worse places to work though - for the most part, the patrons were respectful, and everyone who you worked with was kind, but it was still a strip club. At the end of the day, no little girl wanted to be an exotic dancer when they grew up. At least it just about paid the bills.

You had been put on a long shift today - late afternoon until the early hours. You didn’t mind though; it was exhausting, but more time meant more tips. And you needed the money. You were saving, slowly but surely. One day, it would be enough.

These shifts always started slow. Not many tips this early in the day. Not enough drunks - they were all too willing to part with their money, an exploit you knew how to use. After a while on stage, it was your turn to make your way into the crowd. You started away from the bar, smiling at a few, a couple of words of flirtation thrown around, but no one was loose enough for anything else yet. There was something different about the energy today though. You felt… exposed, on display, more than usual. Self conscious in a way you hadn’t been since your first week. By the time you got to the bar, you were already feeling frustrated at the lack of interest. But your favourite coworker was pouring the drinks tonight, and she had one ready for you already.

“Thanks, Katie” You crooned, knocking back the shot quickly and she immediately offered to refill - something you gratefully accepted.

“Thought you might need it. Slow start?”

“Yeah, not the best day so far.” You took your second, thanking her again, when you heard a voice call out your name. Your real name. It made you start, whipping your head around to find the source. You didn’t use that name here. You were expecting to see an ex, or an old boss, but instead you were met with a face you hadn’t seen in years.

His eyes hadn’t changed. Kind but tired, amber in colour and glowing like whiskey in sunlight. The curve of his nose was the same, the curl of his lips, the small moles like points on a map - one beneath his right eye and the other to the left of his lip. There was a cane tucked beside his stool, and he was dressed well. Too well to be in this part of town. A uniform of some sort, something a Topsider would wear: blue shirt accented with a cream ascot and waistcoat. It suited him.

As soon as you saw him, every fond memory of your childhood rushed back to you like a river. The gentleness when he explained his creations to you. His willingness when you asked if you could paint them pretty colours, or add cute designs. The way he held you as you cried about your mum falling ill. How quickly he offered you support, and how quickly you turned him down. You didn’t want to be a burden, but you regretted that choice as soon as he stopped showing up to your usual spot. You kept going for months before you gave up, still trying to find him. The last time you visited was to scatter your mum’s ashes - your stories of Viktor’s designs and the beautiful creek where you tested them out together being one of the last things that brought her comfort.

And now, he was here.

He’d made it out. He’d made it Topside. And you’d only fallen further down.

If there was one person you never wanted to see you like this, it was him. He was the only slither of your youth and innocence left, the only soul in the whole of Runeterra who knew the true version of yourself, the first version of yourself. The version you actually liked. And now, he had to see this. You couldn’t tell what you were feeling. Every emotion was vying for attention: joy, nostalgia, anger, envy…

He repeated your name in a questioning tone, and you realised you’d been staring at him, the rollercoaster of emotions you just went on likely visible on your face.

“Do you know him, darling? Or shall I grab Joe?” Katie asked from behind the bar, staring him down with a protective look. Viktor opened his mouth to speak, indignant look on his face, but you answered for him, never once being able to tear your eyes from him.

“Yeah I… cover for me? If anyone asks, he got a dance.”

“Of course.” Viktor’s gaze had returned you, confused, and you just muttered a ‘come on’, signalling him to follow you, and you lead him across the floor to one of the private rooms. They weren’t exactly the nicest places to talk, the whole room painted a hideous deep purple, a weirdly-shaped black velvet sofa the only thing to sit on. As soon as you closed the door, turning around to see the soft look on his face, every drop of anger seeped from you, replaced with relief. Relief that he was alive. Relief that he had done something with his life. Relief that you hadn’t lost him forever.

You couldn’t help it but let the tears fall as you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him tight.

***

He was surprised by her warm welcome. After all these years, he had always imagined she would resent him, but here she was, face pressed to his chest as she hugged him, tears falling onto his shirt. He didn’t even have to think about it, his own arms naturally surrounding her as she cried, keeping her close. He never wanted to let her go again.

She eventually pulled away though, wiping her tears with the shy smile he remembered so well.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.. on your fancy Topside shirt too.” She laughed nervously, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I… um, I imagined bumping into you one day, finding you again, but I never thought I would be dressed like this.” He finally let himself glance down at her when he said that, to take her in completely, safe in the knowledge that she wasn’t meeting his eyes. She looked beautiful - a black two-price set, solid silk on the areas that counted, but the frills and accents were a sheer lace, stockings too, glittering beads woven into the delicate material. Even if the environment didn’t suit her, somehow the clothes still did, the same style he’d seen her develop in her teenage years. Simple in colour, beautiful in design - the cunning of her inventor’s mind applied to her other passion.

“What are you doing here, Viktor?” She sat down on the awkward sofa, curling her legs up onto it, and he followed suit, resting his cane against the arm.

“I could ask you the same thing.” It fell from his lips before he could stop it, and he winced, expecting her to be offended, but she just smiled sadly.

“You got out.” She stated, ignoring his quip, and he nodded. He could explain, he should, but not yet.

“And you never wrote me.” He responded.

“Write you? Viktor, I didn’t know where you were.” She never got your letter.

“I left you a note by the creek. You never got it?” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve found you somehow, or…”

“It’s ok, Vik.” She shuffled closer on the loveseat, grabbing his hand and squeezing tight. Hearing the name she used to call him sent a pang of pain to his heart. This is what he had been missing out on all these years, all because of a stupid letter. “If I was in your shoes, I’d have done the same. Besides, I never let you see where I lived, or anything else about me. And when mum… I fell off the face of the earth. I wouldn’t have let you in no matter how hard you tried.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“I know.”

***

You spent a long time asking about his life now. He was working in the academy, partners with Piltover’s favourite researcher, helping to create the HexTech that kept the whole city afloat… he had changed the fucking world. And you were… here. Still.

He said your name softly, as though trying to broach a subject carefully and you knew what was coming. You had seen the query floating in his eyes since the moment he saw you.

“What are you doing working here? I mean, you’re brilliant, more so than me, and yet…”

“I’m still stuck in the lanes?” You sighed.

“Well, yes.” You’d never once thought of him as ignorant. Maybe he’d been living Topside for too long.

“I never got my break. You deserved what you got, of course you did, and you’re the smartest person I know, Viktor, but that doesn’t change the fact that you got lucky. And it’s not the same here as when we were kids. Sure, things weren’t great then, but now… There are no jobs, no money, housing is insanely competitive even though most of it is disgusting.. it’s a vicious cycle meant to keep you in the shitter. This is what I could get. It pays my bills and lets me save a little, the other girls are nice, it’s close to my apartment…”

“But…” You knew from the look on his face what he was going to say - a long speech about how much potential you have, and how much better you could have it. You dropped his hand.

“But what?” You couldn’t help but snap, defensive over the very job that you cursed daily. “But I’m better than selling myself to sleazy drunks? You think I don’t fucking know that? You think I want to be losing my sense of self every day just so I can keep the lights on? You think it’s my dream to feel like I’m a lesser human being because I will let someone pay me to take them into this room and…” You stood up then, starting to pace as silent tears fell. You never let yourself think about any part of your life longer than you had to. Not pondering on it was the only thing keeping you alive.

“You know I wasn’t saying that…”

“I know I’m sorry… I just…”

“I know… I know…” He stood up then too, wrapping you in his arms and letting you cry. Again. You felt so stupid. “I missed you.” He whispered, face nestled into your hair, barely audible.

“I missed you too.” The tender moment didn’t last for long though, as a sharp knock on the door startled you, jumping away from him and wiping your eyes.

“Vikki?” Joey’s voice called out, and you breathed a sigh of relief. “You ok in there?” You put on your smiley voice, cooing back to him.

“Yeah, all good Joe, got a paying customer in here...”

“You got it, doll.” You heard him walk away, and turned back to see Viktor looking at you, head cocked, small smirk playing across his features.

“What?” You asked with a shy smile, wiping away the last of your tears.

“Vikki?” Oh.

“Well I couldn’t exactly use my real name.” He laughed at that, and you couldn’t help but giggle too. “That does mean we’ve been in here too long though, I should…”

“Yeah, no of course…” he moved to open the door, grabbing his cane, but you stopped him quickly, pressing your hand against the door frame.

“One second…” He frowned as you reached towards him, but he didn’t move, just watched curiously as you took your time unknotting his ascot. Once it was off, you unbuttoned a few of his buttons, trying to ruffle his shirt a little, make it look like you had actually been doing your job rather than talking to an old friend. “There…” you muttered quietly, realising he’d shuffled a little closer to you as you worked, and now his lips were only a breath away. He was looking at you so intently, as though there was something he wanted to say, but he never spoke, just gazed at you in a way that made your heart swell. Your hands lingered on his chest, comforted by the warmth and solidness of him. A reassurance that he was real and here. You didn’t want to move.

“Please, don’t go anywhere just yet…” you muttered, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

***

She had been backstage for a while now, muttering something about trying to move her shifts around. She came back beaming, and it was infectious, a smile he was trying to fight taking over his own face just at the sight of her.

“Ok, if you’re busy tonight, or you have plans, you can tell me to piss off…”

“Never.” She blushed in response, her wide smile spreading further as she spoke, and he was helplessly drawn to her, eyes scanning her face intently.

“Well, someone came in early for their shift, but someone else is running late… anyway, our schedule is a mess, but good news is I only have to stay for another hour and then I’m free so… I was thinking, maybe you’d want to grab some food and catch up? Unless you have somewhere else to be…” She still sounded so shy, so unsure - the same habit she had when she was young, babbling when she was nervous. He was finding it hard to connect the dots in his mind: the timid person before him now, the girl he used to know, and the dancer on that stage, full of bravado and confidence.

“That sounds wonderful.” The joy in her face was intoxicating, and he watched as relief visibly washed over her body.

“Ok, brilliant.” She spun away for just a moment, trying to track down the bartender she seemed to know well. “Katie, he’s with me, ok? Send him back in like an hour, and his drinks are on my tab.” He tried to protest, but she rested a hand on his shoulder, quickly silencing him. “I insist. It’s the least I can do, considering how long you have to wait around.” Again, he tried to tell her didn’t mind, that he’d wait as long as she needed, anything for her, but she was gone already, slipping into the crowd. He sighed, turning back towards the bar on his stool, taking another sip of his soda.

“That’s our Vikki…” Katie mused, slicing a few garnishes behind the bar. “Never accepting that somebody else would want to do something for her.” He let out a dry laugh, half at the name, half in agreement.

“That sounds like her.” A beat of silence passed between them. The club was starting to fill up, but it wasn’t too rowdy yet, and nobody else was at the bar, all relying on bottle service and shot girls instead.

“Drink?” He shook his head politely. “How do you know her?” Katie asked, staying busy but obviously trying to snoop. He didn’t mind. She was a topic he didn’t mind talking about.

“Childhood friend. I haven’t seen her in… a very long time.” Her eyebrow shot up at that.

“What was your name, by the way?”

“Viktor.” A look of surprise flitted across her face.

“Ohh.” She drawled knowingly, smiling at herself as she continued to wedge limes.

“What?”

“I’ve heard of you, that’s all. Her childhood love who disappeared on her while her mother was dying…”

“You don’t know the whole story…” He snapped back quickly. He might hate himself for what happened, but he felt the need to defend his choices. It had turned out well for him, he just wished he could’ve found her. Taken her with him. Their life could’ve been so different. Katie chuckled, continuing her tasks.

“Oh trust me, I do. She’s very quick to defend you, you know. You can do no wrong in her eyes…”

“Not so sure about that…” As he muttered to himself, something she’d said suddenly hit him. Her childhood love…“Actually, on second thought, I will grab a drink please, whatever she usually has. But don’t put it on her tab…”

“I wasn’t planning on it, Topsider.” She saluted mockingly with a smile.

Two down and that was all he was having, just needing something to take the edge off after Katie’s admission. All those years wasted, because you thought childhood love was stupid and pointless. And now, seeing her again, you still love her as much as you did back then…

Katie was on her break, so he twisted in his seat, trying to find her in the crowd. She had never been difficult for him to spot, everything about her so familiar to him, and this time, she was centre stage, which made it even easier. Every part of him was screaming to turn away, to not taint his view of her, but he was instantly transfixed. She danced so fluidly, so gracefully. Every movement she made was purposeful and poised. However much she hated her job, she took pride in it. He was a scientist, sure, but she was a creator, through and through.

***

You were finally finished, and you were exhausted. Even though it wasn’t even half a usual shift, seeing Viktor, all the memories it brought back, it had been so emotionally draining.

You were grateful that the changing area was empty. It wasn’t the usual shift time, and no one ever came here on their break, so at least Viktor wouldn’t have to deal with that. You almost laughed at the thought.

There was a gentle knock, and his voice sent a flutter straight to your heart.

“Vikki?” He called out mockingly, and you laughed at the way he’d latched on to your new name. It was inspired by him, after all. “Are you decent?”

“Yes, you can come in.” You were looking good, if you said so yourself. The fashion and the opportunity you were afforded to express yourself in that way was one of the few things you did like about this place. You’d tried to incorporate the shapes and designs of your ‘work attire’ into a more lanes-friendly outfit, layering a black organza shirt over the lacy bodice, beading shining through the sheer fabric, pairing it with a bubble skirt and knee high boots, just the right height to allow your stockings to peek from the top. There was only one item that wasn’t black; his neckerchief that you had taken earlier was now around your own collar, tied in a dainty bow. He grinned as soon as he laid his eyes on it, striding towards you and gently holding the hemmed edge between his fingers.

“I guess I’m not getting this back, huh.”

“Never.” He shrugged.

“I’m ok with that.” God, the way he looked at you. It made you melt without fail, warm flush spreading across your cheeks.

“Are you ready to go?” You muttered, eyes still glued to his, honey tones making you feel as though you were stuck in them. A fly trapped in amber, resigned to its fate.

“I’m ready when you are.”

You’d decided you were going to cook for him tonight instead of taking him out. The places near you either weren’t nice enough, or they knew you for the wrong reasons. Besides, you wanted to show him your place. To show him that, even though you were still here, you had done everything you could to make the best of it, to continue learning and inventing and developing yourself.

That did mean you had to stop by the store, though. Which meant bumping into Angel. He and Viktor would not get on.

You had grabbed Viktor’s arm as soon as you left the club, a habit from the times Joey had walked you home, knowing that you were safer beside a man than by yourself. Even though the Undercity was bustling tonight, there was something so soothing about being here with him. A nostalgia warming you from the inside out. He let you guide him into the shop below your apartment, chatting absentmindedly about nothing and everything, when a smooth voice stopped yoou in your tracks.

“Not so fast, Vikki…” You groaned, turning back the few steps you had made into the entrance.

“Hey Angel.” You cooed, although it felt wrong falling into your usual flirtatious routine when Viktor was right behind you. He was working behind the counter today, thumbing through the till. His long dreadlocks were down, grey peeking through his beard, wide grin as his eyes traced over you, following your arm to where it joined the man next to you.

“Is that a nickname, or…” Viktor muttered, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you responded.

“No, Vik, this is my landlord Angel…”

“Landlord, huh? Thought I was more than that, sugar…” He leaned across the counter, shit-eating smile on his face, clearing noticing and enjoying the fact he was winding up your new companion. Viktor scowled, moving a step closer to you.

“Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming, old man…” You sent him a wink, and he laughed, the booming noise of it always making you smile. “What have you got in that’s fresh? I’m actually cooking tonight…”

You chatted a little longer, grabbing what Angel recommended and some wine, before heading upstairs via the back of the shop. Viktor was still scowling slightly as you were unlocking your door, and you laughed lightly, nudging him with the bag of shopping.

“What?” He huffed.

“I don’t like that guy.” He grumbled, feeling smug that you had called it.

“He’s my landlord, Vik, and a friend. He’s a good guy, don’t worry.” He just shrugged as you finally got the door open, and you thanked the stars that you had remembered to tidy last night, or else it would be a complete tip. There were still remnants from your busy morning scattered all around the studio: scrap pieces of fabric and thread strewn across the kitchen table, the half-finished neglige you were constructing laid over the back of one of the chairs, the cogs and pieces of machinery lie abandoned next to your sewing machine in the wake of the modifications you were trying to make so it could handle more delicate material. The space itself was dark in colour, olive and navy washing the walls, brown leather sofa and black countertops marking their territory in the small apartment, the stain-glass screen in front of your bed the only splash of jewel toned colour. You could feel Viktor’s curiosity at the place, and as he stepped further into it, a smile settled onto his lips.

“It’s so very… you.” He said, and in any other intonation, it would’ve sounded like a bad thing, but when he said it, full of adoration.. it was a compliment of the highest order.

***

She was mesmerising as she cooked, twirling in the kitchen to her carefully selected vinyl, a wide smile on her face as she tested what she was making. He wanted to help but she wouldn’t let him, batting him away and telling him to sit down, and for now, he had obliged. But, as much as he wanted to help her always, right now, he just wanted to be close.

“At least let me pour the wine?” He said, already standing to help, and she huffed, but didn't object. Instead, she handed him the corkscrew and the bottle wordlessly. He smiled, leaning against the counter and continuing to watch her as she stirred. She was always so chaotic when she was creating, something evidenced by the near bomb-site on her kitchen table. It was just so… her. Everything about her apartment was as well, such a perfect and beautiful representation of everything she was, every tiny detail of her life and personality reflected in the space she lived in. The colours, the soft furnishings, the bookshelves lining the wall behind her bed. Then, he noticed something about the stain glass screen that separated the room, soft light from her bedside lamp washing through it and creating a blue ripple across the floor like a stream. It was of their place, their creek. It was abstract, sure, but he would recognise it anywhere. The way certain rocks jutted out, the colours of it all, the small boat floating in the still glass water.

“Did you make that?” He asked earnestly, and she briefly glanced up from the stove to see what he was looking at.

“Yeah, I've been trying out a lot of different hobbies actually, things to keep me busy when I’m not working. That was one of my favourites…”

“It’s beautiful.” She smiled sadly, focusing her attention back to the pan.

“It reminds me of you.”

He poured them both a glass, and she gratefully accepted.

“It’s nearly finished, just a few more… oh I meant to ask earlier…” Her mind was such a beautiful thing, the speed at which it moved so captivating, not even time to finish her own thought before starting another, “why were you even here today? In the Undercity, in my club… I just never thought I’d see you back here by choice.”

“I was visiting an old friend, a quandary about a new gadget Jayce and I are working on, but…” He was going to say something about it, ask her opinion on whether he should follow Doctor Reveck’s advice, what he should do next, but he decided against it. “He didn’t have any insights.”

“Maybe I can help?”

“No, I…” She looked hurt at the speed the word left his mouth, almost recoiling and turning back to her cooking with a frown. “I mean that you probably could, but I don’t want to taint tonight by talking about a project that has been frustrating me for weeks. Another time though, of course I would appreciate your insight.” She sighed in relief, smile flitting back across her face. She grabbed a spoon from the drawer, humming as she did, a flurry of breathtaking movement as she dipped it into the sauce, spinning back around and holding it up to him.

“Taste?” She asked, the look on her face so hopeful it melted him, her joy infectious. But underneath all of it, he couldn't help but notice the cracks: the bags under her eyes, the tiredness set into them, the subtle shake of her hand. But he just smiled, enveloping her hand in his and bringing the spoon to his lips.

“It’s perfect.”

“I’m not sure I’d go that far.” She looked proud nonetheless, spinning back away from him and he was left to watch again, heart swelling. He wanted this. Cooking with her, drinking wine in the kitchen to her favourite record, letting her order him around. He wanted the… intimacy of it. The domesticity. The realisation of it ached. You could’ve had this. All these years without her, all these years wasted. Precious time that you no longer have to spare. If you’d have just waited, just taken more time to find her, insisted on helping her even…

“It’s ready!” She exclaimed, presenting a plate with a wide grin, and every stress, every regret simultaneously melted away and intensified, a pit forming in his stomach.

“It looks wonderful.”

***

You had eaten, and you were both now on your second glass of wine. You felt closer to him with every single second, drawn to every word he said like moth to a flame. At some point in the evening, you’d moved to the floor, backs to the sofa, as you looked through some of your old sketches you had found. The conversation lulled momentarily, a faraway look in his eyes, and you realised how close you had gotten. Your elbow was leaning on the sofa, supporting your head with your body twisted to face him, knee pressing against his thigh. You moved your head forwards to glance at the sketchbook, and your hand fell, resting on his shoulder. A stillness fell over him at the touch, and he smiled sadly to himself.

“I think you should come back with me.” He stated with finality, and you froze.

“What do you…”

“I think you should come back to Piltover.” He closed the book, placing it gently on the low coffee table. He was serious. “Help Jayce and I with our projects. Let me teach you about HexTech.”

“Vik, I don’t exactly have any actual experience. I don’t have an education. I can’t afford to live Topside…”

“You can live with me.” He said it so simply, like it was so obvious. Of course you would love that. Now you’d seen him again, you didn’t want to be apart from him but… “Professor Heimerdinger can give you lessons, but you have the mind already. There are certain things that can’t be taught. You have the passion, the skill, the creativity…”

“But…” You weren’t trying to pick apart his plan, but it felt terrifying. Even though it was everything you had ever wanted, it felt so far fetched. Like a fever dream. It didn’t feel like your life, your future.

“No, I… I lost you once, I can’t do it again.”

“Vik…” He grabbed your hand that was resting by his shoulder, and you felt yourself relax into his touch. He turned head to meet your eyes, sadness creeping into them.

“I don’t have much time left.” The finality of his statement shocked you, and you couldn’t tell what he was talking about. Did he have somewhere else to be? Oh god, you’d already kept him here too long…

“What do you mean, time left?”

“I’m dying.” It felt like somebody had punched you in the gut, all the air in your lungs gone.

“You’re…”

“Dying.” He repeated factually, and your heart sank further into your stomach. “And if we don’t… Jayce and I are working on something that might help, but if it doesn’t, I need someone I trust to take over from me.”

“Viktor, hold on, I need to think…” Your mind was racing, and you still couldn’t quite wrap your head around everything, hands running through your hair. He was dying. He wanted you to move Topside. He wanted you to work with him. To take over his life’s work. “It’s been years. I haven’t seen you in years and now you want me to… now you trust me to…”

“Of course.” He muttered, speaking your name softly to get your attention, hand gently wiping your face where tears had fallen without you noticing. “You’re everything to me, you always have been. There’s nothing I wouldn’t trust you with.” His hand was still resting on your face, and as you searched his eyes, you saw something else. Something pleading, something that echoed the feeling bouncing around in your heart. It would be hard. It would take a long time to settle in, to learn the ropes, to feel like you belonged. But it was your dream. To help change the world. And if he didn't have long, there was no chance you were wasting any of your time left with him.

“Ok.” You answered nodding, and you watched a smile take over his face, heart swelling at the sight.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… Vik, you’re offering me my dreams on a silver platter, and on top of it all, I get to be…” You nearly slipped, about to say be with you but you knew that was a lot. That you had only just reunited and to spring the whole I’ve loved you since I was 10 and I’ve never loved a soul since thing on him might ruin the dream that he’s just given you. But, fuck, you wanted to kiss him right now. “I get to work with you again.. there would have to be one hell of a catch for me to say no to that.”

“The whole dying thing isn’t too much of a problem then?” He asked with a slight smile, trying to hide a genuine fear beneath a joke.

“Oh, honey, knowing that we don’t have another decade of time to lose… I’m not letting you slip through my fingers this time.” His hand felt so natural resting against your cheek you’d forgotten it was there until it moved to cup the base of your neck, thumb drawing gentle lines across your jaw. His amber eyes were searching your features, looking for anything to indicate that you were unsure, but your resolve shone through, and you could see the moment he realised this was going to work, relief flooding through them.

Then, before you could process what was happening, his hand gently guided you forward until your lips brushed against his—light as a feather. For a moment, you couldn't believe he had just kissed you, that it was real. But as you met those pleading honey eyes, everything else faded away. Every doubt, every regret, every sliver of worry vanished, replaced by such overwhelming care and love that you felt you might burst. Your body gave in without conscious thought, melting into his arms as you kissed him. His hands drifted to the back of your head, tangling in your hair and pulling you closer. You couldn't get close enough, your hands gripping the front of his shirt. His fingers traced down your body until they reached your hips, pulling you over him. A soft giggle escaped into his mouth as you swung your leg over his, settling onto his lap. When he finally broke for breath, you found yourself chasing his lips, panting into the space between you with a wide smile.

His lips found yours again, this time with more urgency, more need. Your hands slid up his chest to his shoulders, steadying yourself as his grip on your hips tightened. The feeling of his fingers pressing into your skin sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan into his mouth. He smiled against your lips, one hand moving to cup your face while the other remained firmly at your waist.

"I've wanted this for so long," he whispered against your mouth, voice rough with emotion. You could only nod in response, too overwhelmed by the feeling of finally being in his arms after all these years.

The record had long since stopped playing, leaving only the sound of your shared breaths and racing hearts in the quiet apartment. His thumb traced gentle circles on your cheek as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, full of warmth and something deeper, something that had been there all along. Something that you had been too blinded by insecurity to notice earlier. Something that you knew all too well, reflected in your own heart. You pressed your lips to the mole on his cheek, and the one beside his mouth, a small smirk playing across his features as you did.

“I still can’t quite believe this is happening.” You muttered softly against his cheek, and he sighed, thumb dancing across your lips.

You eventually found yourselves entwined on your bed, limbs tangled in soft cotton sheets, his back pressed firmly against your sturdy wooden headboard as you rocked into him with gentle, deliberate movements. Each subtle shift of your hips sent waves of pleasure coursing through your entire body, making your breath catch. You panted softly into his mouth as his strong, careful hands helped guide your every motion, his touch both grounding and electrifying. The overwhelming need to be closer drove you to pull him tighter against you, your arms wrapping securely around his shoulders until there wasn't even a whisper of space between your bodies. Your chest pressed firmly to his, feeling his rapid heartbeat matching yours, as your head naturally found its place in the crook of his neck. You pressed feather-light kisses against the sensitive skin, tasting the salt and breathing in his familiar scent. The intimacy of the moment was almost overwhelming - so intense, so raw, so perfectly natural - and you found yourself climbing toward your peak faster than you ever had before, your body responding to his every touch as if it had been waiting for this moment forever. You whined softly into his skin as pleasure built within you, each movement bliss, and he responded with a groan as he pressed his lips tenderly to your temple.

"That feels so good, sweetheart," he drawled, his voice coarse with desire, and your hips instinctively bucked harder against him, drawing a sharp gasp from both of you. His clever fingers traced teasing patterns across your hipbones before finding their way between your bodies, circling your sensitive clit with perfectly measured pressure that made your toes curl. His other hand gently cupped your chin, drawing you back until your eyes met his, gilded with desire but still so full of tenderness. His lips ghosted across yours before he pressed his forehead to your own, releasing your face and returning his hand to your hip, guiding you once more. You could feel yourself fluttering around him as your pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak, and his eyes rolled back, a broken groan escaping his lips and filling the charged space between you. The coil of pleasure wound tighter and tighter as you approached your climax, desperately seeking more of him, claiming his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss that swallowed the stream of desperate moans spilling from both your lips. When your release finally crashed over you, it was like nothing you'd ever experienced - all the pressure, all the built-up desperation exploded like a supernova and pure, white-hot ecstasy consumed every nerve ending, every thought, every sensation except the feeling of him inside you and against you. He followed shortly after, gasping your name like a prayer against your skin as his own pleasure overtook him, his lips finding purchase on your neck as he shuddered through his release. In that moment, it was perfection, hearing him, feeling him, everything you had ever dreamed of and more. But as you came down from your shared bliss, you couldn't quite silence the intruding thought lurking at the edges of your consciousness - that you wouldn’t have him for long.

She looked so peaceful curled against him, her head nestled perfectly in the crook of his chest as if she belonged there, her beautiful red hair fanning out across the pillow like a fiery halo in the dim light. Her beauty was staggering - the gentle slope of her nose, the delicate arch of her brows, the soft curve of her lips - and he couldn't help but trace each feature with his fingertips, mapping the geography of her face with tender precision. She sighed contentedly in her sleep at his touch, unconsciously pressing closer to him, one hand curling loosely in the fabric of his sheets that lay across them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this complete, this profoundly at peace, as if all the jagged pieces of his life had suddenly aligned. His fingers continued their gentle exploration, committing every detail to memory - the light dusting of freckles across her nose, the subtle flutter of her eyelashes, the way her lips curved slightly downwards even in sleep. He wanted to capture this moment, to carry it with him always like a talisman, a protection. A reminder that he would do anything to preserve her peace of mind. To make her happy.

The soft amber from the bedside lamp caught in her hair and painted her skin in warm honey tones, making her look almost otherworldly in her beauty, an ethereal being who had chosen, inexplicably, to be with him. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a feather-light kiss, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair, before letting his own eyes drift closed. Despite everything - his illness creeping through his veins, the uncertainty that clouded their future like a torrential storm on the horizon - right now, everything felt exactly as it should be.

[jujuscrolled]

last christmas

☆ pairing: ex! suguru x gn!reader (if i slipped up PLS let me know)

☆ synopsis: last year suguru had broken up with you claiming it’d be for the better but the year had progressed and everything was the same. did he think so to?

☆ content: angst/some comfort, mentions of drinking,

☆ word count: 3K

The cool air nipped at your cheeks, a slight shiver running down your spine.

You watched as children laughed, snowballs held tightly in their hands before getting flung at their friends. Across the street from them; the hazy, warm lighting from a small bakery illuminated the snowy ground. The town was busy, people finishing some last minute Christmas shopping or enjoying each other’s presence bundled up to keep warm despite the cruel chill that swirled around you.

You shivered again.

You’d only been gone for a year but it seemed like everything had changed. The shops were different and the people were older.

You sighed, tugging your sweater closer to your body before walking towards the bakery that Satoru had told you he’d meet you at; he had wanted to pick up some cinnamon rolls for his party and since you had denied his offer of picking you up at the airport you’d compromised on just meeting halfway there.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. It’s not like you hadn’t kept in contact the entire year but now he was here, in the flesh and inviting you to his annual Christmas party insisting that you’d never missed one before so why start now?

Truth be told, you did always enjoy his parties and it was always nice to see everyone together, but this would be the first year - the first party- after you and Suguru had broken up.

You hadn’t seen or spoken to him since that day, having been sent off to Paris by your job and honestly, you hadn’t wanted to.

The memory had burned itself into the back of your mind; the muddy slush beneath your feet, the rain pelting your skin as you stood outside Suguru’s house and the aching in your chest as he ripped your heart out and stomped on it.

Despite that he had tried to cover you with an umbrella, insisting that you come in because you’d catch a cold. It had made you angry, the way he had talked to you so gently like he hadn’t just torn you to pieces minutes prior insisting that it’d be for the best if you spilt up.

You grit your teeth at the memory, hand hesitating in front the door before you fought through it and pushed it open. The bell above the door chimed loudly, alerting everyone in their of your presence including Satoru whose bright blue eyes had immediately lightened as they landed on your bundled up figure.

“Hey!” He greeted, enveloping you in a warm hug before guiding you over to where he had previously been standing in front of the wide display of treats the bakery had to offer.

Beautifully decorated cakes and stuffed croissants were lined up neatly next to other perfectly crafted sweets. Satoru’s heaven surely.

“How was your plane ride?” He asked, the arm that he’d swung over your shoulder squeezing you gently as he looked at you.

“So long. I think I’m gonna be jet lagged for months, honestly.” You sighed, watching as they packaged the pastries Satoru had chosen before you had gotten there.

“I thought you were just getting cinnamon rolls?” You asked, arching a brow as they packaged yet another flavor of kikufuku.

“I did! The rest is for me - you know I can’t help myself around kikufuku.” You couldn’t help but grin at him.

“Of course.”

Once the treats had been paid for you both walked to his car, him opening the door for you and entrusting you with his beloved sweets. The car ride was comfortable, spent talking about your Paris experiences and him catching you up on what you’d missed while eating a few of his kikufuku that you’d hand him.

“You’re gonna spoil your dinner, Toru.” You teased as he reached for another one, he only shrugged mouth full of the cream filled mochi.

“My stomach is an endless pit, don’t you worry.” He said through his mouthful.

“Thank you for helping me by the way. Everyone else was insisting they’re too busy to help me set up.” He huffed as you both walked through his front door, treats half eaten and cheeks burning from the snow despite only having been outside for mere minutes.

“No problem, happy to spend time with you.” You replied, allowing him to remove your jacket only for him to fling it onto the couch. He didn’t own a coat rack, you don’t know why you assumed he’d keep your jacket safe.

The two of you decorated his living room, stringing lights across every surface and sticking candy canes in random places. The tree in the corner had clearly been decorated by children; you assumed Satoru had let the neighbor’s kids help him since their father hardly ever had enough time to do things like that with them. You cleaned up the coloring books and crayons that they had left too, placing them in their designated corner.

After about an hour the place looked like a Christmas store had thrown up in it, even going the extra mile to place mistletoe on each doorway as a little gag for whoever ended up under it.

“Shoko said she’s on her way with Kento and Haibara.” Satoru shouted from his bedroom as you finished up the last of the details on the dining table. You glanced over at him, watching as he made him way to the living room, clicking on the television and pulling up one of those fake fireplace videos despite the fact that he had a real fireplace. (“The cleanup is annoying, plus Megumi likes playing around there and I don’t want to be responsible for any mishaps!” he’d say whenever you reminded him.”

Soon after you heard some knocks on the door before it flung open. Shoko had a bottle of wine in her hand, comically large and clearly hard to carry seeing as she had both arms wrapped around it.

“Y/n! You’re back!” She said, making her way straight towards you and pulling you into a side hug to avoid the wine bottle getting in the way.

“Got back this morning, Toru wanted me to help with the decor.” You replied. Kento and Haibara hugged you too, placing their things on the table. Haibara had brought a bucket of fried chicken and Kento had brought some homemade rolls saying he’d gotten the recipe from a bakery that he often visited.

The four of you mingled as you waited for Utahime and Suguru to arrive, your stomach in knots as the time passed. You weren’t sure what to expect, despite knowing that with everyone around it wouldn’t be likely that it’d be awkward but the awkwardness was the least of your worries.

You hadn’t seen him in an entire year and despite having mostly healed from the breakup, having little to no hard feelings, you still had a tiny ache in your chest whenever you remembered the look on his face when you told him you hated him. The both of you knew it wasn’t true, it had been words spat out during high tension - words meant to wound.

The doorbell rang and Satoru made his way over, welcoming Utahime with a one-sided hug before she ran to you, pulling you into a hug and asking you about your trip.

“Suguru said he’s running late because the girls refuse to go to bed.” Satoru said as he typed on his phone, presumably replying to the message.

“Shall I serve us some wine then?” Shoko asked already making her way to the kitchen.

As everyone drank their wine and chatted you got lost within your mind again, unable to stop replaying the memory you’d tried so hard to get rid of. It was strange really, you’d hardly had time to think about anything other than your job your entire year in Paris but being back had clearly reopened the wound you’d thought you’d fully healed. Seeing everyone again had your mind reeling.

Biting your lip you contemplated just going home and avoiding facing your fears. You were back for good, what was the rush?

As you opened your mouth to excuse yourself, a loud knock on the door had everyone cheering, knowing it could only be Suguru.

Your world spun as the door opened revealing Suguru, looking gorgeous as ever. Inky black hair tucked neatly into a bun. He wore a white knitted sweater and black dress pants, gauges still in his ears and purple eyes immediately landing on your figure nestled between Shoko and Haibara.

You quickly looked away, fingers tugging on the fabric of your shirt in attempts to soothe yourself. You definitely weren’t ready for this.

“Hell yeah! Let’s get to eating!” Satoru cheered, arm around Suguru’s shoulder as he led him to the table, the rest of you following suit.

As everyone served themselves, you stood idly behind Shoko waiting your turn and thanking the heavens above for Satoru distracting Suguru. You knew he’d want to talk to you and you weren’t even ready to see him so talking to him was the last thing you wanted to do.

Despite that fact, you could feel his lingering gazes on you and it only made you drink your wine quickly in attempts at easing the growing anxiety.

Shoko and Utahime made it their mission to distract you and they did a fairly good job at it, telling you stories about things they’d done while you were gone.

Unfortunately, the fuzzier your mind got the less you paid attention, only seeming to notice the way Suguru’s eyes stayed on you. Every time he had sensed a lull in your conversation with anyone he would try to get your attention but you wouldn’t let him - quickly engaging in different topics with whoever would listen. It’s not that you didn’t want to talk to him, you just didn’t know if you were strong enough to get through a conversation without crying. And you really didn’t want to embarrass yourself like that your first night back in Tokyo.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened.

You had excused yourself about two hours into drinking, your hazy mind amplifying every sound, every conversation and ultimately overwhelming you.

You’d never been much of a sociable person, limiting yourself to your small group of friends but after being isolated for most of the year, being so busy with your workload that socializing was the least of your worries, it seemed like you’d lost the ability to handle so many interactions all at once.

As you leaned over the bathroom sink, taking in deep breaths to cool yourself down, a knock sounded at the door. Thinking it would be Shoko or Utahime checking on you, you opened the door only to be face to face with the last person you’d want to be alone with.

“Please don’t close the door on me.” He said, raising his hands as you gripped the door tightly. You only frowned at him, glancing around to see if anyone else was coming to your rescue.

Only an empty hallway greeted your vision.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me so you don’t have to. I just… I know it’s not my place anymore but I could tell you were getting overwhelmed so I couldn’t help but come and check on you.” He said, eyes taking in your every feature and successfully rendering you speechless.

“I’m fine. Just…” You stopped, not needing to elaborate since you knew he could still read you like a book. It made you uneasy.

“Here, let’s get some fresh air, yeah?” He said, moving to the side so you could exit the bathroom. You could only hesitate.

“Promise I won’t talk to you if you don’t want me to.” He said, eyes begging you to follow him.

Letting out the breath you hadn’t noticed you’d been holding, you flicked off the light and exited the bathroom, allowing him to lead you to Satoru’s room and out onto his balcony.

The cool air felt good on your overheating body, Christmas lights from the houses around you twinkling under the night sky. Suguru handed you a throw blanket before leaning on the railing to look down at the snowy landscape.

“How was Paris?” Suguru asked. You glanced over at him but his gaze only stayed on the scenery below you so you relaxed a bit.

“It was fine.” You replied, feeling a bit awkward.

“Just fine? You do realize you were in Paris, right?” He mused arching a brow at you causing you to bite back a smile.

“Uhm.. Well, yeah but I didn’t exactly have time to sight-see.” You said, letting out a breathy laugh. He huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head, “can’t say I’m surprised… Did you at least see the Eiffel tower?” He asked.

“It’s insane in the night time when it lights up and everything.” You mused. Suguru watched as your eyes brightened with the memory.

You don’t know how long you two just stood outside, admiring the scenery and recounting stories here and there before he cleared his throat during one of your silent moments causing you to flinch at the sudden noise.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, not meeting your gaze. You looked away from him, throat tightening as your heart rate sped up. You felt like throwing up, an apology was the last thing you needed right now.

He sighed at your silence. “I needed to apologize but I couldn’t find the right time to do so before you left and texting you an apology seemed like a shitty move.”

You blinked at his words, brows furrowing as you tugged your blanket closer.

“I know this is selfish of me but I mis-“

“Stop. Please. Just stop…” You whispered, vision blurring with tears.

“Y/n.”

“No, Geto.” You reiterated, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Please don’t cry over me.” He murmured, hand hovering over your hand that had been gripping the railing so tightly in attempts at grounding yourself, but ultimately he pulled his hand away leaving you your space.

You sniffled, turning to glare at him. “Then either stop making me cry or look away.” You hissed causing him to frown.

“I never meant to make you cry…” He said, “then why do it?” You scoffed, wiping at your tears angry that they’d been stubborn enough to fall.

“I-“ he paused, reaching for you again but stopping himself when you leaned away from him.

“Because i’m an idiot. That’s clearly the only right answer. I’m not worth your tears, Y/n.” He said. You bit sniffled, letting out a small scoff.

“And yet here we are again, Geto.”

“Please don’t call me by my last name. We may have broken up but I still want to be in your life. Even if it’s only as friends.” He said. You were growing frustrated with your traitorous tears; every time you’d wipe them away they were replaced with fresh ones.

“I don’t want to be your friend. Can’t you understand that? You broke up with me - I think I deserve some space.” You said, swallowing the sob that wanted so desperately to escape.

“I don’t want to be friends either… I made a mistake letting you go.” He said causing you to furrow your brows and look over at him. He was already looking at you, his own eyes brimming with unshed tears that he had also been trying to blink away. It made your stomach twist into knots, bile rising in your throat.

“What kinda sick game are you playing at, Geto?” You hissed.

“It’s not a game, I swear. Breaking up with you was a mistake. I thought it would be for the better - we were both getting so busy and I wanted to you have someone that could be there for you whenever you needed. Instead of trying to be better I gave you up and I’ve regretted it every day. You’re all I’ve thought about this entire year…” He said. You felt hot tendrils of anger wrap around your chest, tears now flowing freely as you’d given up on wiping them away.

“Screw you.” You spat, turning away to leave but he only grabbed your wrist, tugging you gently towards him.

“Let me go, jerk.” You said, pushing away from him but he only held you tighter within his embrace. “Please just hear me out.”

“No! Dammit, Suguru. You can’t just come in to my life again after what you did to me.” You sobbed, struggling against his embrace but it never faltered.

“I know! I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m a selfish idiot.” He said, holding you as you broke apart in his arms. “I hate you.” You cried.

“I love you. Always will. Even if you leave me again.” He murmured.

You hated how easy it was for him to snake his way into your heart again, but you guess he had never really left. There had always been a Suguru sized hole in your heart and you hated it.

“Is there any chance at all for us again? I promise I won’t make the same mistake again.” He practically begged, pulling back to look at you.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to look at him anymore because you didn’t want to give in. But you knew it was helpless. You’d never hated him. You could never hate him because you would have to stop loving him first. You couldn't give up on him despite your best efforts. But now that the opportunity was here again, you were scared. You didnt think you'd be able to handle a second break up with him.

“Suguru…”

“Please. We don't have to jump back in all at once.”

You let out a sob, allowing him to wipe away your tears as your body slumped in his embrace, you were tired of fighting.

“We’d have to start from zero, Suguru.” You mumbled shakily. He nodded, holding you tight.

“We’ll go as slow as you need me to go.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

[w1nter4ngel]

FOOTBALL IMAGINES WITH P LINKS ATTACHED!!

other master list

WARNINGS : smut! cheating! strong language!

🔞

18+ please!!! ( or preferably 16+ youngest! either way i’m not going to judge you 🤝🏼)

side note: this is also my first time writing on tumblr so i’m still very new 💀 please if you see any mistakes or any links that aren’t working let me know, if you have any advice for me aswell i’m all ears thanks 💕

DO NOT OPEN THESE IN PUBLIC!!

THIS IS STILL ONGOING

• requests are open!! please also request more people for this and also non smut/ non p link imagines •

Jude bellingham

imagine 1

link

You and jude are in bed cuddling with his head on you’re chest, you’re watching the film until jude slowly lifts his head looking up at you’re lips before softly kissing you and pulling away, “ what was that for ? “ you ask with a giggle before jude smirks pulling down you’re pyjamas bottoms, you gasp and moan as you’re legs are suddenly split apart with jude in between them licking and sucking you’re clit.

imagine 2

“ i said no jude. “ you harshly say as your busy trying to make breakfast. “ please baby you always let me suck you’re tits before training why not today? “ he asks annoyed, “ because i’m not in the mood-“ you was quickly cut off with jude’s hard boner poking ur ass and his hands sliding up ur small top into the bra playing with already hard nipples, “ please baby girl i need to suck them “ jude whispers desperately in ur ear as he leaves a wet kisses trail down ur neck and too ur boobs..

he got what he wanted like he always does

link

mason mount

imagine 1

You love teasing him, sending him dirty videos of yourself and multiple pictures while he’s away, you absolutely love jerking him off and slowly licking and sucking only his tip and you always try edge him until he can’t take it anymore.

You missed his moans and whimpers so you asked for a video of just that.

His moaning

imagine 2

You both love a mutual masturbation. ( link )

imagine 3

You both love each others sloppy wet kisses ( link )

Trent A.A

imagine 1

Trent was you’re best friend for years, every time you had a fall out with you’re boyfriend you would go to trent’s and he would comfort you, this time was different..

trent had enough of pretending he didn’t hate you’re boyfriend, One thing lead to another and well.. let’s just say you’re ex boyfriend wasn’t happy with the video he received that same night and you learned Trent absolutely loves sucking you’re tits while you ride his dick.

( 2 links for this one because i liked the first one to start with ( link boob sucking is best part ) but the second one fits better idk 🫣 ( link 2 )

imagine 2

he got a new car and you got mad he hadn’t fucked you in it yet as you always had car sex.

link

imagine 3

he loves fucking you’re pussy so hard that you can basically see his dick in your stomach ( video) and filming it for when he goes abroad.. he needs a new video update everytime before he leaves even if it’s last minute.

link

pablo gavi

imagine 1

link - here

you couldn’t come over to his house as you had work to finish.. he couldn’t wait on you an longer so he desperately begged for some new dirty pictures of you..

not 3 minutes later you had received ( link) this back

imagine 2

he loves lollipops and pussy… why not mix both of his favourite things together?

link

Hector fort

imagine 1

link

it’s his mission to always make you squirt but he loves when you use his dick to rub on you’re clit until you squirt and he loves fucking you afterwards.

imagine 2

he loves when you rub ur wet pussy on his dick and he loves every position you’re willing to try

link

imagine 3

( this screams hector to me )

he loves having his fingers down ur throat it makes his dick throb.

link

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 54

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 51, part 52, part 53

“And just as you enter the cavern,” Will narrates, are sweeping across the board, “a gust of wind blows out your torches, covering you in darkness. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear the low grumble of the monster that terrorized the town.”

They all look at him, waiting for him to continue. Instead, he stands straight again, starting to take down his board. “And I think that’s a good time to stop.”

“Come on,” Lucas groans, falling back in his chair. “You can’t leave us there.”

“How much longer of the campaign do we have?” Dustin asks. “We’ve been playing for weeks now, we could try to finish it tonight.”

Mike shakes his head. “Even if that was possible, it’s late. My mom is dragging me back to school shopping tomorrow.”

Dustin shoves his stuff in his backpack. “Already? We still have a few weeks until school starts.”

“Yeah, but she just wants to go and get it over with.”

They pack up their stuff, saying goodbye to Mrs. Byers on their way out. Mike hangs back while Lucas and Dustin get their bikes. Talking to Will, laughing about something they can’t hear.

“God, this is taking forever,” Lucas complains.

Dustin shrugs. “Will said he’s been working on it for months. It’s not that surprising.”

“Not the campaign. I meant that” Lucas points to Mike and Will.

Dustin looks at them and rolls his eyes. The two of them have been dancing around each other all summer.

“When is he going to get the balls to ask him out, already?” Lucas whispers. “It’s getting painful at this point.”

“He’s just scared, he’ll get there eventually.”

“But why does eventually have to take this long? I swear if I have to sit through one more movie night of them sitting next to each other way too close, and getting all embarrassed when they get caught looking at each other, I’m going to go insane.”

“Why are you going insane?” Mike asks, picking up his bike off the grass and wheeling it to the street.

Lucas catches up to him, slapping him on the arm. “Where are you going to ask him out already? He totally likes you back.”

Mike’s face turns bright pink. “I, just, I don’t know. I’m scared, I guess.”

“Dude, come on. It’s Will.”

“Yeah, I know that, that’s why I’m scared.”

Dustin keeps quiet. Listening to their argument over the soft hum of his bike’s wheels. They would get there on their own time, he knew that. Ever since both Will and Mike admitted to him what they were feeling, it was inevitable. They fit, it just made sense.

It was just another thing that was going to change. Mike and El broke up back in April, but that didn’t really feel like a breakup. They were already apart, physically, for so long, they were able to just pick back up and go back to just friends. It was nice to have a group where it was mostly friends, and Dustin didn’t feel like he was third wheeling.

But then Will told Dustin, Mike slowly figured it out, and Lucas will not stop until they get together. Nancy is getting ready for college. Robin is staying, but only for the year. Wayne and Eddie are moving into a house. Steve is moving. Dustin is still just Dustin. Nothing changing, forever the same.

Everything keeps changing. Everything keeps moving. He feels like he has to too. But nothing he does feels like growth. Feels like movement. He just feels the same. If his younger self were to stand next to him right now, they would look identical. The only change was Dustin was older. Taller. Supposedly more mature.

It’s odd how he can look at everyone else and see all the ways they’ve changed, and see none of it himself. Maybe it’s because he just can’t see it, or maybe he wants to believe it never happened. For a moment, maybe, if he could just look through younger his eyes, the world would be brighter. The air would be fresher. Time would feel less exhausting.

“Did you guys know Steve’s moving?” he asks, still walking next to his bike.

They stop and turn to look back at him. “What,” they ask in unison.

“His parents are selling the house, he’s moving.”

“What about Eddie?” Mike asks.

“They got a house. They’re moving into it in a few weeks.”

“Wow,” Lucas says. “Summer really is almost over, isn’t it.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “That is the most cliché thing you have ever said.”

“It’s true,” he defends. “Before we know it, it’ll be Halloween, then November, then we’re back to March, and it’s the fourth again. It starts to feel normal and then we get hit with something that throws us back a few years. Can’t blame me for wanting to stay in this peace for a little longer.”

He’s right. After the fourth, and everything died down, it started to feel like a real summer. Will and Mike made the campaign, and they’ve been playing it. There were movie nights and sleepovers. Days at the arcades and trying to sneak into the R rated films. Stuff normal teenagers do. Stuff they normally did.

But there was this tension, this wait for the other shoe to drop. For someone to wake up screaming, or something to spark that creep up Will’s next. El’s been searching, trying to look for any clue that they were wrong. That there was a chance they didn’t properly kill it this time.

There was nothing. No indicators. No signs. Pure silence.

Silence was never a good thing. It leaves space for the brain to find something to obsess over, or create. Never quite giving the peace that it is supposed to promise.

Dustin didn’t like the silence. He wanted there to be something in the background. Music, conversations, white noise. Something to fill the space and call him back to reality. Instead of his mind wandering free.

“Do you ever think that one day we’ll wake up and just forget everything? Go about life like everyone who doesn’t know?” Dustin asks, voice almost in a whisper.

It’s almost this reflex he has, to fix everything. To find that off switch. Find a way to get back to normal.

“I don’t think we’ll forget,” Mike starts, a scared hopefulness in his voice. “I just think it might not hurt as much. Like it’ll fade into a distant memory, and we only remember it every once in a while.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees. “Like I don’t even remember the first time as much anymore. Not as much as I used to, at least.”

Mike nods, it doesn’t help.

Something in Dustin can’t let go of the idea that he’ll never forget. That this is something that will always haunt him.

“Hey,” Lucas puts a hand on his shoulder. “No matter what, we go through this together.”

“Right.” Mike agrees.

Dustin’s glad he still has them. That after all they’d been through, their friendship stayed the same. Still just as close as they were back in middle school. Different, but the same.

“Yeah,” Dustin says, voice returning to its lightness.

Different, but the same. He hasn’t thought about it like that before.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores