#I also had a completely different ending for this fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

raileurta · 2 days ago

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Well this post got me thinking about how the humans would react to Raf's death. It also would not be pretty to say the least.

⚠️ Trigger warnings in the tags ⚠️

Both Fowler and June are devastated at the loss. He was just a kid involved in war he shouldn't have been anywhere near. I bet for the longest time they would blame the Autobots for the loss and resent them for it. They would also become extremely overprotective of the other kids. Especially June who was already protective. This whole thing made her lose complete trust in Arcree's ability to protect Jack. (The femme bot doesn't blame her for it) She would try to keep Jack away from the base for any excuse. Logically she knows he is technically safer there but her heart is too scared of being away from her kid. Fowler also can't help but agree with her. He is much more aware and strict about the kids now too. He was even tempted to sorta kidnap them and send them to a secret base in Washington or something. For now he is going to have the kids being monitored 24/7.

Jack is depressed as hell to say the least. He blames himself for not being able to protect Raf. He was the one "meant" to stop their trio from being hurt and he failed. It cycles through his mind constantly on what he could have done to prevent this, how he could have been better, why wasn't he better?

Jack visits Raf's family a lot and tries to help them any way he can. He feels like he has to atone for his failure in some way. Then when that doesn't work to help free himself of the guilt he would resort to "punishing himself." I'm pretty sure you can figure out what that entails..... 🔪

Jack also is much more aggressive about preventing Miko's reckless behavior. He will tackle, and even restrain her to prevent her from potentially getting herself hurt. They have many arguments now and aren't really on speaking terms. He will text her a lot though just to see if she's alive, Miko will always respond no matter what.

Miko at first just went into shock. Her mind went into a complete shutdown. For two days she barely spoke, ate, or just did much of anything; once the shock wore off though she exploded. She ripped off the posters off her walls, broke everything in sight, screamed, cursed out the world, and even smashed her hand through her mirror. Once the adrenaline wore off she clutched her bleeding hand and sobbed. She doesn't know how long she sat there crying but by the time she was done her hand had stopped bleeding and she was covered in dried blood.

Miko stared at her arm the glass embedded in the skin, and felt nothing but seething hatred for Megatron. It wasn't the kind of usual fiery animosity she held towards the man but a freezing loathsome whirlwind that had frozen itself across her entire body. This wasn't some superhero show anymore, where the hero would defeat the villain in a spectacular explosion of power but a cruel war that was going to end with the excruciating death of Megatron.

She planned, rewrote her plans, researched, planned again and did more research. For one of the only times in her life Miko didn't rush into something. Megatron was going to die and there couldn't be any way he would survive or somehow come back from death again. Miko had to make sure it was perfect, Raf deserved it she almost religiously thought. Early into her plans Miko recruited Bumblebee into helping her. The scout hated Megatron just as much as she did. Bee told Miko everything he knew about how Cybertronians could be hurt and the ways to do it. The autobots always feared transformers tech landing in human hands and they had a great reason to do so. Humans had remarkable twisted minds that could think of things that would disturb even some of the most callous of bots.

Miko is no different, especially when she is motivated by pure unfiltered hatred. It took many sleepless nights and three months of preparation but they finally had everything ready. They just had to wait for the right opportunity. By this point bumblebee's anger has calmed down slightly and he was now starting to doubt if they should really do this. The consequences could be disastrous.

You see Miko had realized scraplets or the rust plague couldn't really hurt her so she could easily use them to defeat Megatron. So she has been breeding scraplets, training them, and trying to selectively breed them so they would be able to resist the plague. Miko had the scraplets micro dosed with black energon so they would crave the stuff and be more powerful. Bumblebee would obtain metal for them to eat and he tried to make sure the other autobots weren't catching on. Once they could get on the nemesis Miko would command the scraplets to infect as many bots as possible. They had made around 100,000 of these suped up mega disease scraplets so there's basically no way anyone is escaping uninfected. They were basically sentencing every decepticon to death.

Bee questions whether Raf would want this and Miko just replies,

"It's not about whether he would want this or not but what Megatron deserves and he deserves to die. If I have to kill every decepticon to do it? So be it. I don't care what happens to them, every bot on that ship is a horrible person. "

He reluctantly agrees with the reasoning and continues with the plan.

After the ship would go down a infected wounded Megatron escapes the scraplets his priority would try and cure himself. When he tries to make it he's in for a horrible surprise; while they were preparing the scraplets they had also set out to purposely destroy ingredients essential to the cure (They of course made a lot of vaccines themselves) Any place he might look for the ingredients he would just find a data pad stating,

//Start message

"Hello Megatron, you may not remember me but I do. My name is Miko nakadai, and I was a friend of Raf, the human charge of bumblebee that you mercilessly had killed. He was just an innocent child but you didn't care, why would you? You're the powerful evil overlord of the decepticons, the bot who strikes fear to every Cybertronian who knows of you. Humans are nothing but organic trash that would be crushed under your foot. That's not going to be the case anymore. You're going to care, you're going to see what you have done, and you will regret having ever laying a figure on Raf. You shouldn't have messed with humans and you especially should have not messed with my friend.

If you don't want to die from the rust come to the coordinates X"00'X0.x" alone and we will provide you a cure. Also don't even think about contacting the other Autobots or you can kiss that vaccine goodbye."

//End message

Megatron then would come to meet Miko and Bumblebee. They would talk/integrate Megatron about Raf. Then Miko would pull out the apex armor, activate it and fight Megatron with Bee. If all goes well they kill him (maybe torture him a bit before that) and drop his remains on Raf's grave.

When they do get a hit on the Nemesis location they slightly panic and rush to get things in order. When they are ready the ground bridge opens and as they are about to leave they hear Ratchet say,

"I should stop you shouldn't I?"

The old bot is standing behind them looking at the ground bridge location pinned in on the nemesis. Miko and Bumblebee don't know what to do for a second before Ratchet's words register in their minds.

Should? They think.

Ratchet monologues for a bit about how stupid, dangerous, this is and how he should stop them from doing it. But..... he opens his servo to look down at Raf's broken glasses. He just can't. Ratchet looks at them tears streaming down his face. The same look of pure hatred in his eyes and demands to be there to help kill Megatron. Miko and Bumblebee look at him, they both just simply nod.

Nobody had said a word about it but they all knew no matter what happens Megatron has to die. Even if that means destroying themselves in the process.

They enter the ground bridge together.

Wow that sorta mini fic came out of nowhere. I'll leave it up to your imaginations on what happens next. Thank you @lets-try-some-writing for the inspiration.

Follow me if you want to see the future stuff I write. ✌️

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darling-archeron · 3 days ago

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@littedidyouknow, surprise! I was your Secret Santa for @acotargiftexchange. I had so much fun writing this fic for you. We talked about how you liked hurt comfort and would change how some of feysand's trauma was handled, so I combined that with some holiday fluff. This is chapter 1/3. I hope you enjoy - happy holidays!

With every solstice, it seems the Inner Circle grows. As Nyx's first solstice approaches, Feyre and Rhysand celebrate holiday traditions, both new and old, while grappling with unhealed wounds.

After a night of fitful tossing and turning, it was safe to say that when light streamed through the bedroom window, Feyre wasn’t ready to face the day.

Between Nyx’s fussing, Rhys’s restlessness, and her bad dreams, she would have been just as well off not going to bed at all. All week, she had felt drained, and last night had been no different.

At least, Nyx was often good about sleeping soundly in the morning. A true Night Court child, it was the late hours that kept him awake. Judging by the slant of the sun – or what she could glimpse of it, through her barely-open eyes – she and Rhys should have another hour of peace.

Rhys, it seemed, had also managed to fall into a fitful sleep at last. Despite his tossing and turning, he had still ended up nestled in her arms.

Right where she liked him. Surrounded by his warmth. Close enough to feel his heartbeat.

She had tried to keep her unrest concealed from Rhys. She wasn’t sure why – they didn’t keep things from one another. She knew he would listen in quiet understanding to whatever she was feeling. But she got the sense he had been feeling the same way – even if he didn’t show it in his waking hours, his fitful sleep was enough of an indication.

Even so, knowing she wasn’t alone in her unrest didn’t stop her from feeling completely ungrateful and selfish.

This time of year was supposed to be for celebration and thankfulness. And yet, here she was, with everything she could want in the world – a family, a home, peace, a loving mate, and a healthy child – and she still felt…discontented. Heavy.

A little haunted.

Gods, she was ungrateful.

More long minutes passed until she felt Rhys stir beside her.

“Good morning, love” he murmured, though he sounded as exhausted as she felt, even as he pressed a kiss into her hair.

She mumbled something barely coherent back, leaning into his touch.

“Sleep well?”

“Not really,” she admitted.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, sounding a little more awake. Of course, they were both used to getting up during the night to calm down Nyx when he woke. This was different.

“I’m just so tired,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“Did I keep you awake?” he asked with equal softness, pressing her closer.

“No, I don’t think I would have slept either way.” She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear the drowsiness away while cringing against the sunlight streaming in.

Noticing her squint, Rhys flicked his fingers, and the heavy navy curtains immediately snapped shut.

“What’s bothering you?”

“I think I could ask you the same thing.” He had dodged bringing the unrest up as much as she had in past conversations, which was unlike both of them.

“Avoiding the question, are we?” He kept his tone light, but Feyre felt the undercurrent of concern. On a different morning, she might have tried to continue to tease and play, but…she didn’t realize how much of her fear and exhaustion she had been keeping from him. How long until fate tried to tear them apart again?

It haunted her, to think of how they had cheated death thrice. They couldn’t be so lucky again.

“This probably sounds silly, and maybe it’s selfish of me. For the first time in years, it feels like there’s no major disaster looming. Everyone is healthy, and our relationships with the other courts and the continents are going well. I know I shouldn’t be anxious. But it’s as if…for the first time in years – I really have time to think about everything that’s happened. During the War, and after.”

Wordless for once, Rhys just held her, rubbing soothing circles up and down her back.

“I think I’m feeling the same way you are,” he finally said. “Our first few solstices together, the relief was outweighing everything. Surviving the war and everything that came before…”

And Nyx’s birth, too. He didn’t need to say it.

“I just felt so much disbelief that we had made it through, that we had each other. But now…I just keep thinking about all the ways things have gone wrong, all the ways things could go wrong. I know it doesn’t do any good. I don’t want to ruin the present, by dwelling on what-ifs. Perhaps it makes me ungrateful, to still feel grief now. But my mind…it keeps trying to drag me back to times I’d rather not remember.”

“No, Rhys,” Feyre interjected sharply – and she couldn’t deny how cathartic it felt, to hear her own doubts in him. And if she could reassure him – she could reassure herself.

This is what they did. Blamed themselves for things they shouldn’t, patched up each other’s wounds. Held each other through the dark.

It was comforting, to know that she wasn’t alone in her exhaustion. That Rhys was beside her, as he was in so many things.

“I understand,” she continued. “Now that things have settled down. It’s like I actually have time to process some of the things that happened. In a way that…I suppose I didn’t before. I suppose I didn’t want to tell you, to make you feel bad.”

That first solstice, after the war, everything had been so fresh, so new. There had been sorrow, yes, and a sense of loss, but the warmth of love surrounding her for the first time in so long had kept the cold at bay.

Her mate didn’t say anything, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. Rhys didn’t say anything for a long while, but she could guess that his mind was half Under the Mountain.

“It’s nothing worth remembering,” he insisted, but she caught the way he stiffened.

Gently, she turned his head to face hers, their eyes meeting. “That doesn’t mean it won’t need a way to come out, one way or another.” If she could save him some nightmares tonight by having this conversation now…

“You’re the one who said you were tired, darling. I shouldn’t be putting on this you.”

She frowned. “Where is this coming from, Rhys? Let me share your burdens, as you share mine.”

Together, as they were in all things.

Still, he frowned. “I…I don’t know if I can right now. Maybe later?”

Rubbing a soothing hand up and down his back, she sent a pulse of understanding down the bond. He hadn’t wanted to talk last night, either, when she had asked him why he was restless.

He would be ready at some point, she trusted, but that conversation wasn’t what he needed right now.

“We can talk about something else. What about other Solstices - when you were younger? How did you celebrate – where did the snowball fight come from?” She asked to get his mind on more pleasant things, but also of her own curiosity. No matter how much she learned of her mate’s 500 years of life, it seemed there was always more to hear.

He considered the question, idly playing with a strand of her golden-brown hair. She snuggled up closer to his comforting warmth.

“When I was very young, my least favorite part was always the court parties I would have to attend. Long, drawn-out events, mostly in Hewn City. Mor and I would always try to sneak off, only for one of our parents or nannies to drag us back by our ears.”

“Your parents let a child attend revels in the Court of Nightmares?” she asked incredulously. She had seen parties there that bordered on orgies.

“Oh, we were sent to bed long before things were that wild. The night felt like it dragged on long enough as it was – once, Mor almost fell asleep, falling face first into her roasted duck.”

“As I’m sure is no surprise, my father wasn’t much of a family man. Certainly not by the time I was born. If it wasn’t for my mother, I’m sure we barely would have celebrated outside the Court of Nightmares. And my mother, for as much as her chosen family meant to her, quickly realized that the strife of getting my father to stop thinking about politics for one day was more trouble than it was worth. When I was training in Illyria, it often got a little quieter around Solstice. For most, it was their only leave for the year. I was one of the lucky ones, with my mother living in camp, and my father occasionally dragging me away for one of his own lessons…”

“What a lucky little High Lord, getting special privileges,” Feyre teased, flicking his nose.

Rhys scoffed. “If you can call sitting through endless meetings in the Court of Nightmares, or being chased through the woods by whatever my father decided to send after me “special privileges.”

“But what I meant was that Cassian didn’t have any family they cared to visit outside of the camps. So there were years when it was just my mother and the two of us – later the three of us, once Azriel showed up. She would make special treats, and always sewed new clothes for the three of us. I wish I could say our gifts were always as thoughtful.” He chuckled. “At the very least, she always made a show of being pleased with whatever we had come up with. Those are some of my favorite Solstice memories.”

She felt his mental presence gently slipping through the walls of her mind, sharing a memory through his eyes, of his mother and his brothers, eating cookies and sharing presents by the crackling fire.

“I swear, I never would have thought such a thing was possible, but after my sister was born, she softened my father. When Celeste was young, there were a few years when the four of us would get together in Velaris. My sister would throw a fit if my father didn’t make some kind of effort to be with us through the holidays – and with anyone else, I would have sworn the holiday would have been better without the prick. But…he was kinder to her. Like he wanted to give her the childhood the rest of us hadn’t been afforded.”

Feyre listened attentively; hand braced gently on his arm as Rhys immersed himself in the years long past.

“Celeste loved the holidays. Loved any reason to celebrate. Her favorite tradition was always baking, and she’d stay in the kitchen for hours and help my mother and the servants prepare dessert. When she got a little older, she would always try and join my brothers and I during our snowball fights. I would usually tell her to stop being a pest. But Az…he was the good one. He would let her join his team, pummel Cass and I. Of course, we’d always tell him that his win that year didn’t count, since he had extra help.” Her mate smiled at the memory.

“What else?” Feyre asked softly, eager to learn more pieces about the girl she had never met.

“She loved to ice skate. That was usually what the two of us did together.”

“You? On ice skates?” Feyre couldn’t help but interject in disbelief, incredulous at the idea of Rhys gliding across the ice. Not that he wasn’t graceful, but it didn’t exactly fit in with the idea of Illyrian brute strength.

“You doubt my abilities? I was an excellent skater. I’m the one who taught Celeste.”

She pictured Rhys, the dutiful big brother, spinning around on the ice with his sister, faster and faster, both of them laughing and carefree.

“You said you were an excellent skater. Are you still?”

“I haven’t done it in years, but you should know I’m a quick study,” he said slyly.

“Would you want to pick it up again?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, why don’t we do all of those things. The skating, the baking,” Feyre suggested.

He didn't answer for a moment, turning over her words, and Feyre was struck by the thought that he might not want part in these traditions with anyone other than his sister, that she was invading on a treasured memory.

Before she could brush her words away, change the subject, a smile played at Rhys's lips.

“You wouldn’t be bored? Doing all of these old traditions with me?”

She shook her head. “Of course not! And…I think it would help me, too, to spend time with you. To just be. I’ve been trying to stay so busy and focused on the future, our future, but…I can’t outrun everything. Maybe, if we can find some time, it could be good. To just be together, in the moment.”

And maybe if they were lucky, the magic of Solstice could bring a little healing to them both.

"I'd like that a lot. We could bring Nyx along, too.”

“There are three days until Solstice. How many activities do you think we can fit in?”

“You’re in luck, my darling wife. As an early birthday present, I’ve cleared both of our calendars. Now, I’ll admit the activities I had in mind originally were a little more…physical,” he said, and she was very aware of his hand creeping up the side of her shirt, “but…few things would make me happier.”

“Well then, it sounds like a plan,” Feyre said, pressing a long, slow kiss to his mouth.

And for the first time in days, she felt lighter.

#acotargiftexchange #feysand #feysand fanfic #feyre archeron #rhysand #nyx #kat's writing

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rays-of-fire-and-ice · 13 days ago

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In Your Eyes, in the Ice and Rain

Two Weeks of Hitsuhina - Day 3: Wings / On a Starry night

Rating: T/Teen for violence and mild descriptions of injuries.

Setting: before BLEACH’s main story; Hitsugaya is still a third seat and Hinamori the lieutenant of Fifth Division.

Synopsis: During a battle against a pack of Hollows, Hitsugaya's duties as a Shinigami and sense of self is tested when Hinamori gets hurt.

AN: I'm late for the start of the week, but better late than never!

This was such a random idea. I considered not writing it, but then I got started and it took over. If I had to describe this fic in two words, it’d be ‘high emotions’, so prepare for angst, some hurt/comfort towards the end, and probably some out-of-characterness.

It was partly inspired by the song Farewell, My Friend by There’s a Light (YT | Spotify), but more by two images I got while thinking on this theme: one of Hinamori pleading to Hitsugaya (while he has his bankai activated) to save everyone and he was shocked by this, and the other of Hitsugaya coming to Hinamori’s side when she’s injured, hunched over and holding her hand.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this one.

_____________________

Hinamori is sent hurtling through the air, and Hitsugaya's forget how to breathe. She arcs over the battle, high above everyone’s heads, out of sight and focus of her subordinates and his fellow tenth Division Shinigami.

He doesn’t come out of his shock until her back smacks off a tree trunk and she tumbles through the branches to the ground. He shouts her name, louder than the Hollows' cries around him.

He flash-steps and catches her before she can hit the ground. She lets out a pained cry at the same time one of the Huge Hollow he’d been fighting roars because its prey vanished out of sight. He almost loses his grip on Hyourinmaru, and hefts Hinamori higher up so her head can rest on his shoulder. But she whirls around, looking without seeing, and thrashes against him.

“Hinamori, stop! You're hurt!” he yells, unintentionally making his grip tighter on her. She barely calms her frantic movements, hasn’t even registered that he’s the one holding her.

He glances at Tobiume lying on the ground. He doesn’t have time to pick up the zanpakuto, but kicks it off to the side, into the cover of bushes. He hurriedly retreats away from the battle, going deeper into the forest. The trees do little to shelter them from the rain, with drops showering over him as he runs, and he folds his wings in tightly so they don’t thrash against the low hanging branches or shrubbery in his way.

He ignores the pain lancing up his leg from the wound he’d gotten just minutes ago. The reason she’d come running to him during the battle, seeing him slashed by ones of the Huge Hollows that’d converged on him. After the wound was inflicted, he’d pretended to be at the creatures’ mercy to lure them into a false sense of security. They would lunge for him while he used a bankai technique to freeze them all in place at once. He’d only practice the ability once, but things were getting desperate in the fight and he needed to take more then one down at a time.

But then she’d come charging in, letting out a furious cry as she launched a fireball at one of the Hollow’s backs, setting it alight before leaping up behind it and landing at the nape of its bent neck and bringing Tobiume to cleave the mask in two from behind. Dislodging her blade, she’d kicked off from its head and landed in front of Hitsugaya while it disintegrated to nothing.

She’d launched another fireball at one, sending the Hollow falling back and being attacked by other Shinigami form behind. She’d briefly glanced over her shoulder at him, her gaze wavering between fury and concern within seconds, before returning her attention to Huge Hollows before them. He couldn’t speak, was in awe of her skill but also shocked she had come to his defence. he forgot about his plan, about getting up because the wound didn't truly hinder his ability to stand and fight.

She was halfway through chanting a kido when the Huge Hollow with oversized, clawed hands slashed her left limbs. Before she could even let out a cry, it back handed her, catapulting her away.

Hitsugaya comes out of his recollection when he nearly slips and falls on a slick of mud in the grass. Blinking rain from his eyes, he can’t see but can still hear the battle. It’ll do.

Hinamori, having realised who was carrying her, had stilled her thrashing. “H-Hitsu –” She gasps as he lowers her to the ground, propping her back up against a tree trunk. She groans while clutching her side with her good arm. “Where…?”

“Don’t talk,” he instructs, but his voice is shaky.

Seeing her like this is like the first time he saw her cry; it felt wrong, like something someone like her shouldn't do. Blood runs down her scratched legs and arm, falling either to the ground or being absorbed by the shreds of her uniform. Her hair has been slowly loosening from its usual bun, with the hair cloth missing and the ribbon torn. He supects, judging from the lack of blood not seeping from between her fingers, her side is likely bruised but not torn. Her back is likely the same. There are several tiny cuts across her face and arms, likely from the branches she fell into. Bruising has formed on the side of her neck and her breathing is staggered and wheezing. What if she has a broken rib?

He shakes his head against the nausea and rising panic. “I’ll get started on treatment.”

The rain comes down faster and thicker. Hinamori winces as it pelts over her injuries. Without a second thought, Hitsugaya brings a wing over her head. At the shadow cast over her and the lack of rain hitting her, she blinks and looks up. Her reflection is warped in the ice, it’d be comical if it weren’t for how dire situation was.

“T-Thanks,” she stammers.

He stabs Hyourinmaru into the ground and breaks the ice away from his hands, the blunt talons falling to the earth and melting to slush in the rain. Then he kneels, keeping the wing above her. Fearing she has a concussion, he instructions, “Stay still, okay? Don’t move your head anymore. I’m going to take a look at your injuries.” She lets out a hum, and he takes it as her understanding.

She whimpers when he peels back the remains of her sleeve and hakama leg until the wounds are completely visible. The blood drains from his face and the world briefly spins at the sight of her leg injury; that’ll need Fourth Division’s work. There is only so much he can do for such a wound, but her kido surpasses his. He cringes at the idea of her having to treat her own injury while in this state, but they don’t have any other options.

He gingerly wraps his fingers around the wrist of her bad arm. “I can heal this one. Once I seal it over, you heal the one on your leg and I’ll work on your side and back.”

“It really hurts.” She starts to look down. “Is it that bad?”

“Don’t look yet,” he instructs softly, laying a light touch on her shoulder. “It’s…just don’t look until you need to.”

He expects her to make a sound while moving her arm, but she doesn’t. He doesn't think about, just chants for the healing kido. He gets no relief even when the teal glow emanates from his palms over the scratches. She winces through gritted, but it’s only when he looks up to reassure her that he realises she’d returned to looking at Hyourinmaru’s wing.

“This is your bankai…” She’s breathless still and there’s a slight slur in her speech, but her dazed gaze has turned into something akin to awe despite the pain.

“Yes,” he says, even though she hadn’t posed it as a question.

“I never seen it in battle before,” she breathes. “It’s incredible.”

The small cuts on her arm heal beneath the kido and the larger wound scabs over; with any luck, it’s healing internally too.

Hitsugaya sighs. How can he get her to focus on herself? “Forget about the battle. I’ll help with healing your leg before working your side.”

“I saw you out there,” she continues, as if he hadn’t spoken. “Before that Hollow attacked you, you were turning the tide for us.”

His heart aches. If she’d only known that he’d had a plan, that she was never meant to get involved. No, that’s not it. He shouldn’t have been so reckless. He should've just cut the Hollows down one at a time. He shouldn't have gotten carried away with watching her protect him when she didn't need to.

“Hitsugaya-kun?”

His breath hitches. The kido beneath his trembling palms flickers. With a frustrated grunt, he resumes focusing on the healing her. “I’m almost done.”

“You’re doing great.” Her pained smile says otherwise. Even in times like this, she’s reassuring him, making sure he is okay.

From the distance, a harrowing scream rings out through the air. With it, it brings back the clashing of swords against bone, cries echoing around the battlefield, and howls and animalistic sounds of the Huge Hollows. It’s as if he’d muted the battle until now. Hinamori’s brow furrows, and her gaze sharpens. “No…”

It’s several heartbeats later when Hitsugaya deactivates the kido. It’s not enough, it'll have to do; he should be able to do more. “Come on, let’s heal your leg. You ready?”

He shifts to get closer, wincing as he moves his own injured leg. And the moment he let the sound escape his lips, he curses under his breath.

Her frown deepens.

“Hinamori --”

“Where are you hurt?” she asks, her gaze searching him head to toe.

“It’s nothing, forget about it.”

Her eyes land on his leg and she lets out an alarmed grunt. Hitsugaya can’t help but look too. His sock is bloodied, and the gash he’d received from the Hollow peaks out at the top.

She straightens, peeling her back from the trunk, and moves her uninjured arm towards his ankle. “You should’ve said something!”

“Stop it!”

Her finger sturggles to pull down his sock.

“Hinamori, it’s not serious,” he tries to reassure, but his voice comes out strained. “Your injury is. I’m not the one bleeding out here.”

She shakes her head, and much to his horror, she raises her injured arm with a groan and brings it to his ankle, and it helps to bring his sock down. He thinks to jerk his ankle away, but he fears the sudden movement would startle her and reopen her arm wound.

Hands hover over the wound and she begins to chant.

He grabs her uninjured arm. “Hinamori, stop it, now.”

She ignores him, completing the chant and activating the kido. A fresh wave of pain shoots up his leg, and at his grimace, her frown softens away. “Sorry.”

He can’t work on healing her leg while she’s doing this, not without causing her pain. He lets out a shaky breath. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re hurt.” She says it as if that answered everything.

As soon as the kido spreads out across the gash, his flesh knits over itself rapidly, and the pain is soothed away to a dull ache.

It harshly shakes his head. “You need to focus on yourself, idiot. Use your kido on yourself.”

“I can’t.” The tremor in her voice renders him speechless. “Not while they’re all still out there and you’re in danger, I can’t.”

His heart thuds so hard he hears it in his ears. Battlefield are always chaotic, but even being away from it, he’s lost control of this. “What are you saying?”

She doesn’t speak, only stares at him. It’s one of the rare times he can’t read her expression. “Come on, what?”

She presses her lips tightly for a moment before she speaks. “I don’t want you to fight, but…if you don’t, you’re all in danger.” She lowers her gaze with a whimper. “Why did it have to be like this?”

Still cryptic. He can only conclude she’s concussed, not knowing what she’s saying or doing.

Not even three minutes later, she deactivates the kido and pulls his sock back up. He can’t see how it looks, but there’s still a faint ache. She’s not at the level of Fourth Division, but he can run on his leg without much issue.

“Okay, fine, you’ve healed me. Now come on, your leg!” He’s quick to position his hands over the injury, the beginnings of the kido chant on his tongue.

“You need to go back there.”

That halts him. “What?”

“They need you at the battle.”

Beneath the wet hair plastered to her face, the dirt smudging her face and the bruising forming on her jaw, there’s a grim determination.

“Don’t be a fool,” he mutters.

She winces, but not from the pain of her injuries. “You have to go back and fight, Shiro-chan.”

Hearing the nickname triggers a rush of anger in him. “No!" he snaps. "If we don’t heal these now before Fourth Division get here, the damage might be irreparable. I’m not leaving you!”

“Forget about me, go and help them,” she rasps, bordering on begging. “The fight out there is getting worse, but your bankai can help change the outcome. I don’t want you to go out there and get hurt again but…you have the power to end this. Please, you have to go back there! I’ll be okay.”

“Hinamori, stop this --”

He’s cut off when she suddenly grabs his shoulder and pulls him forward. Too stunned, he barely remembers to keep the wing over her let alone throw out a hand to prop him away from the tree she rests against.

“Remember your duties as a Shinigami," she whispers. "We serve and protect the Seireitei and the Soul Society. We protect our fellow officers in battle, our friends."

The reminder should’ve been like a bucket of cold water dunked over him, but all he can focus on is the blood in the corner of his eye.

He grits his teeth against the tremulous feeling rushing through him. “You weren’t supposed to get involved. Why did you jump in? I had a plan.”

She blinks. “What?”

“Back there, I was…” He can't get the words out. Pathetic.

She takes his free hand in hers. They’re so close that all he sees is her wide, glassy eyes. “Go. They need you…please. Please, Shiro-chan, please.”

His heart stammers. She’s begging him for something. She should never have to do that, not with him. Not for the safety of others.

The sounds of battle reach his ears again. He’s selfish, because in the end, it’s her he wants to protect, and her who he has failed. But she’s counting on him, believing in him as she always has, to protect everyone.

He hardens his expression and withdraws his hand from hers. Standing, he reaches across and dislodges his zanpkauto from the ground. The ice he’d broken off before quickly regrows, engulfing his hands and ending with sharper talons.

It gives him an idea. Warning Hyourinmaru before he raises his weapon, he raises his right arm and hits the area above the wing’s joint with pommel. The ice cracks. Hinamori lets out a startled grunt, but he continues to strike at the ice until the wing breaks off.

"W-What're you...?" She watches him in bewilderment while he manoeuvres the broken off ice to cover her from the rain. A new wing rapidly grows, collecting the falling rain and melding it into the ice to freeze.

He steps back several paces, not looking away from her. He wants to say something, but finds he has no words. He’s simultaneously emboldened and uncertain.

She offers a grateful, strained smile.

Before his resolve can break, he snaps Hyourinmaru’s wings and shoots into the sky. Tree branches rattle and leaves fall in his wake when eh breaks from the treeline into the sky.

High in the air, he twists around in the direction of the battle and with another powerful flap he shoots himself higher into the sky, gliding high above the forest that encompasses the area. From up here, he can tell which direction the Hollows had originally come by the destruction they left in their way. It’s as though a line of the forest had been gauge out, with trees snapped in two or completely uprooted and the earth upturned.

Only a minute later he’s overhead of the battling Hollows and Shinigami. He can’t distinguish which Shinigami belongs to Tenth or Fifth, doesn’t even recognise which one is Rangiku. From this height, they seem so small.

The Hollows, however, have more distinguishin features. He spots the Huge Hollow that had thrown Hinamori away. His grip on Hyourinmaru tightens and his blood simmers in his veins. For all of his conviction in fulfilling her wish, he still puts his own will above it.

I’ll protect her.

He comes overhead of the creature. The rest of battle fades out.

He stops flapping his wings, sharply falling through the sky. Rain and wind whip against him, and it only fuels the growing anger. While in this state, the weather is under his control. With a mere twist of Hyourinmaru, the rain gets thicker and the clouds gather, darkening the area. His reiatsu flashes across his skin in white-blue currents. Against powerful gusts of wind and the forces sending plummeting to the ground, he raises Hyourinmaru. As the features of everyone becomes clearer – the Hollows’ masks, the Shinigami either engaged in battles or the few who, wide-eyed and mouths agape, notice his rapid descent – he lets out a cry. Combined with the howl of the wind, it sounds like a roar.

Most of the Hollows have stopped to look at him. Did they think he was one of them? Has he become monstrous in his fury? It didn’t matter.

He flares Hyourinmaru’s wings out when he’s only several meters from the Huge Hollow who’s struck Hinamori. The creature, realising what’s about to happen, roars and raises it’s oversized hands at the last minute. It’s too late. Hitsugaya stabs Hyourinmaru through the mask, and from it, ice bursts out and rapidly covers it’s grey-purple skin. A cold wave comes from the attack, washing over everyone in the area and shuddering and bending the trees.

The Hollow’s mouth is unhinged wide, stuck in shock. Before it begins to disintegrate, he withdraws Hyourinmaru and kicks off from the creature’s head, landing in the mud.

Hitsugaya’s shoulders heave with each heavy breath, which fogs in the cooling air. He glares at the next Hollow, frozen in place by what it saw. And it wasn’t the only one. Most of them are staring at him, and even some Shinigami are. Eyes wide, lips trembling from either the sudden cold that’d descended over them or from something like shock or confusion.

The Hollows that saw his attack fall into a frenzy, bellowing or snarling, before converging on him all at once. He’s too angry to be afraid, and raises Hyourinmaru against the closest one. He unleashes a flurry of ice, striking the Hollow and sending it crashing back into another.

“Ryusenka!”

Ice erupts from Hyourinmaru and strikes the two Hollows, encasing them before they can cry out. Hitsugaya lunges forward and smashes the ice, breaking to two apart into pieces that disintegrate.

From behind, a hunched over Huge Hollow charges, tusks aiming to gorge him. He swings his zanpakuto around, ready to duck under and cut into it’s underbelly.

There’s a flash of movement to his right, and he almost swings his sword at the figure who’s appear at his side. Rangiku – hair wet and bedraggled, mud smeared on her face and arms, and a thin cut above her brow smudges with dried blood – makes Haineko form a neko rinbu around them. The Huge Hollow, cut from the tiny pieces of blade, stumbles back with a yelp before it and the other Hollows disappear from view.

“What was that?!” she yells over the whirl of Haineko. “What’s gotten into you?!”

“You need to call the Captains and Fourth Division, now!”

“Why?”

“Because we’re about to end this fight!”

A hand, protected by bone-like armour, lunges through the ash cloud. Hitsugaya spins and slashes into the knuckle, breaking through the plating and sending a flurry of ice racing up its arm. The hand vanishes through the ash. At the screams of both Hollows and Shinigami happening beyond, Rangiku winces and dissipates the cloud.

“You’ve got some explaining to do later!” she yells, before leaping to cut the clawed hand hauling up a badly injured Shinigami.

After that, the battle is a blur. He is not like those in Eleventh Division, prompt to losing themselves in bloodlust, but his strikes are fierce and quick, and regardless of the combat between a Hollow and Shinigami, he intervenes, cutting through mask after mask after mask.

His blood boils, and he feels his face contort into an unrecognisable, furious shape. It doesn’t come entirely from the hatred for the creature he’d slain before. No, he’s angry at himself. At his failure to heal Hinamori, to prevent harm coming to her. He’s angry that their lives are like, filled with danger he can’t always protect her from.

After he cuts down a spider-like Hollow, Hitsugaya spins around, ready for the next, only to see there are none. The Shinigami, whether they’re standing or trying to prop themselves up from the mud, struggle to catch their breaths and look around. The forest had been full of Huge Hollows breaking through the trees, their stampede shaking the ground and their animalistic cries tearing through the air above the rain. Now, everything is still and silent save for the torrential rain.

As if most come to some realization at the same time, many turn to look at him. Fraught emotions tumbling within him still under the scrutiny of his fellow Tenth Division members and those in Fifth. Some look at him in confusion – likely not knowing he had achieved bankai – a few in concern, and the rest in either awe or wariness.

He’s breathing too hard, his limbs shake so fiercely from the adrenaline and harsh beating of his heart. The rain cools his skin. It’s the latter that makes him straighten, and with a silent command to Hyourinmaru, the rain lessens, returning to how it is meant to be.

Above his head, he only has one ice petal left. He withholds a cringe. In such short time he'd overexerted his powers. After a long, quiet breath out, he deactivates his bankai and sheathes Hyourinmaru across his back. It sends out a cold pulse, ruffling the uniforms and hair of those standing near him and disturbing the rainfall for a second.

“I’ve called for Fourth Division!” Rangiku yells from somewhere behind him, making everyone turn their attention to her. He stares at the ground as she continues, “They’ll be here soon, along with Captain Ishiin and Captain Aizen! For anyone without injury, we need to get the injured into the shade and start healing them, now!”

Hinamori.

He snaps out of his stupor and runs between rushing Shinigami.

As soon as he sees her, he shouts, “Matsumoto!”

She looks over her shoulder, then fully turns once he’s close. “Don’t think I didn’t see your ankle before, you need to –”

“Hinamori isn’t here!” He points in the direction he’d come flying from. “She’s badly wounded, she needs help, now!

Rangiku’s eyes widened. “No wonder I couldn’t find her,” she mutters to herself. Then, while running with him in Hinamori’s direction, she asks, “What kind of injuries?”

“Her arm and leg. She can’t walk, and I’m certain she’s concussed.”

Rangiku swears and wipes the hair from her face. She searches for any Shinigami still standing around. At the sight of one officer from their division and another Hitsugaya didn’t know, she calls out to them. “If you haven't got anyone to help, come with me right now!”

They sprint over and fall into line behind them. Hitsugaya casts out his sense. Hinamori's reiatsu flickers from her injuries.

"You sense her too?" he asks Rangiku.

"Yeah, she's not far from here."

“We’ll also need to retrieve her zanpakuto. Tobiume is under the bushes in that same direction, just look for her hilt.”

Rangiku nods. “We'll take care of it.

“What? No, I – ”

“Your ankle will get worse. Stay here, Fourth will arrive shortly.”

“I --”

“That’s an order!”

He’s stunned by her authoritative air. He knows she’s capable of it, but she rarely uses it on him. That isn’t what causes him to slow his run and then come to a stop. It’s the way her eyes soften with knowingness.

He stands at the edge of the tree line, watching Rangiku and the other two Shinigami until they’re out of sight and the flora they’d disturbed stops swaying. After taking down as many Hollows as he did, ending the battle quicker in the Seireitei’s favor, he can't if it's exhaustion or the sense of helplessness that makes him sag against a tree .

At some point he raises his hand and simply watches the rain collect then pool in the center of his palm. He stares at his reflection, colorless and broke apart by raindrops. In an instant he's nothing more than swirling, wavy lines, but they bounce back form him, only a drop to hit and ripple. At times he is nothing but warped lines, and in an instant, he's reformed only for a drop of water to hit and ripple.

It's several minutes later when three whole squads of Fourth Division medics arrive. Most go to the severely wounded first, then rest approach others with minor injuries.

He stumbles away from the tree and waits. Eventually two medics come to him. He only speaks when he needs to, answer their question before they begin treatment. His ankle is as good as new five minutes later. At the comment from one of the Fourth Division Shinigami about how the healing on it was good before they tended to him, he hurriedly walks away without thanking them.

He searches for Hinamori. He hadn't seen Rangiku and the officers come out of the forest, but he can hear the lieutenant's voice echo from somewhere in the area. Around him, uninjured and healed quietly gather and speak to each other, comforting each other or relishing their victory. Those receiving treatment remain in the shades of trees, but some are on stretchers being carried away. He pauses at the sight of a medic placing a spare shihakusho over the face and chest of someone on stretcher. He doesn’t recognize the Shinigami, which meant it’s likely someone from Fifth Division. Had the officer passed before or during his return to battle?

He shoves the thought aside and staggers onward. In the chaos, death is inevitable in battle, they all know that. Somehow, it doesn’t stop the pang that comes with losing a fellow Shinigami, even one he didn't know.

It’s not long before he finds Hinamori when he left her. She lies on a stretcher next to what little remains of Hyourinmaru's wing. She's her hooded eyes look between the two Fourth Division members tending to her. Aizen is kneeling at her side and speaking to her with his back turned to Hitsugaya. He feels a modicum of relief that Tobiume is at her side; Rangiku must have found the weapon.

Several meters behind him, there's a few Shinigami who were carried to be under shelter being tended to as well. He feels a few stares at his back, but he ignores them.

He keeps his distance, observing one medic finishing bandages her arm, while the other continues to cast healing kido over her leg. She shouldn’t be there. She should be standing like so many others here, lifting the spirits of those who lost a comrade today or have witnessed a horrific battle like this one was for the first time.

“You did remarkably well.”

Hitsugaya isn’t startled by Aizen, who has left Hinamori’s side and approaches him. If this were any other situation, he might have thought it funny to see him this drenched and his hakama muddied.

“Without you, I'm certain we would’ve had more causalities,” Aizen continues. “I’ll be sure to tell Captain Shiiba what your efforts did today once he gets here. From what my officers have told me, your bankai is something to be admired, Hitsugaya-kun.”

He sniffs and looks past the captain back to Hinamori. “I’m still training.”

“There’s always room for improvement, but this victory today is thanks to your abilities.” Aizen follows his gaze, and after a beat, offers in the way of sympathy, “I know it’s hard seeing Hinamori-kun like this, but you know she’ll pull through. She’s always been strong, nothing ever holds her back or brings her down.”

That softens him, because it’s the first thing the captain has said today that Hitsugaya agrees with. She’s strong enough to be a lieutenant. She was strong enough to remain his friend, to stand by him when the world and he himself tried to tell her otherwise, even when the enormity of his power became obvious to her.

She’s strong enough to ask him to fight for others when she needed the help and protection the most. She had the strength to see all of these Shinigami as important to her. Everyone, except herself.

“From what she told me about what happened," Aizen continues, "if it weren’t for you, I’m certain her injuries would’ve been worse.”

Hitsugaya manages to not double over but he can’t withhold a grimace.

Aizen frowns at his reaction. “I apologise. Did I say something wrong?”

Hitsugaya stiffly shakes his head but refuses to look at the captain.

"If you're sure." Aizen shifts, half turning away. “I’m sure you’ll discuss today with Captain Shiiba. However, my door is open to you and Lieutenant Matsumoto if you need another set of ears.” He bows his head. “I’ll leave you be. Take care.”

Hitsugaya brows furrow when instead of walking past him, the captain approaches the Fourth Division members, speaking with them for a minute, before they bow to him and move on to the next patient behind him. Aizen gives Hitsugaya a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes before he leaves.

It occurs to Hitsugaya once the captain is out of his sight, aside from Shinigami being healed behind him, he and Hinamori are alone. He doesn’t fight the compulsion to go and kneel at her side. She’d been staring ahead until he comes into her peripheral. Most of the blood and dirt has been wiped away, but her skin is too pale. He can’t judge whether the haziness in her eyes is from the concussion, something the medics gave her to ease the pain, or exhaustion. Still, there’s a flicker of recognition as her gaze takes in his face.

Her lips part to say something, but nothing comes out. Her chest heaves with a shuddering breath that's dangerously close to a sob.

Without thinking, he takes her good hand between his two own. “I did it, just like you asked.” He loathes the vulnerability in his words, but he only said them because he wants her to be happy.

She blinks slowly, taking in his words. The corners of her eyes moisten. Again she tries to speak, “I’m…sor…”.

He bites the inside of cheek hard. Why is she trying to apologize?

“You don’t have to talk. You’re going to be okay,” he says, more as reassurance to himself. “Everyone’s okay now, we’re safe.”

His words aren’t true. What of that Shinigami who passed away? He can’t have been the only one.

He bows his head. "It shouldn't have been like this. I thought I was outsmarting them, but I ended up getting you hurt."

She swallows, takes in a long breath. His words don't sink in immediately, but when they do, she weakly shakes her head. "No. I'm sorry I...I shouldn't have --"

"Hinamori--"

"--asked you to..." Twitchingly, the corners of lips rise. “But I...knew you could do it. You're incredible, Shiro-chan. Truly.”

He lets out a strangled grunt before bowing over her, his forehead coming to rest on hers. Her smile widens, and she softly shuts her eyes. He closes his own, to try and calm his racing heart and to shut out any onlookers. He’s certain they’d deem his reaction overwrought, especially considering she isn't dying from her injuries. But they don’t know he’s reason she’s hurt, or that without her, he’d have no bankai.

Why did it have to be like this? This isn’t how their lives were meant to go. But what did he expect? The life of a Shinigami is fraught with danger. They have a duty to protect the Soul Society, to lay their lives on the line if need be for it and each other. Why should that have to apply to her?

Without her, his life would be so different. It had come with bad memories, but more than that, it’s come with ones that gave him hope when there hadn’t been any, and she had done so with only her words and kindness. The world needs her, more than it needs him.

He can’t let this happen again, because what good is having this power if he can't protect her from threats or his own foolishness? His prodigal status is something others revere, something coveted by the Seireitei and rare among Shinigami, to the point of loneliness for those that harness it. He should be able to fight like no other, and yet she's still here, still trying to protect him in battle. She shouldn’t be, not after everything she’s already done for him. Not when he has the strength and power to do the same.

I won’t let you get hurt ever again. He opens his eyes, and hers remain closed as he leans back. I’ll get stronger so that I can always protect you.

It feels like a vow, seared into his very being, one that he can never revoke even if he wanted to. One he will never speak aloud to her or anyone else. It’s for him and him alone to carry.

His hold on her hand tightens. When she squeezes it back, his heart clenches. Slowly, she opens her eyes, and he stares at his reflection in them. It doesn’t ripple and warp like the one in the water. He isn't colorless, shaded by the brown of her irises. It’s him, bloodied and sodden. No longer a child, but not an adult either. A Shinigami, gifted with a power few will ever have across the centuries. A power she helped bring forth without ever knowing, and one that will be wielded to ensure her happiness.

______________________

AN: I never do author's notes at the end of a fic, but for this one I felt I needed to.

I have to admit, I got pretty emotional writing this one, and I think it shows ^^; I don't know why though, because I've written far more angsty fics before this one. Maybe it's because of the song that contributed to it's inspiration, or maybe it was because I was feeling down at the time of writing it (I'm feeling better now though). I don't know...

I still hope you all enjoyed it.

I ended up putting Hitsugaya in difficult scenario. Not only did he feel he needed to choose between Hinamori and the other Shinigami, but that he'd come up with a plan and feels responsible for Hinamori getting hurt even though he couldn't have foresaw her involvement.

I feel like while trying to figure his bankai out, Hitsugaya would experiment with what tactics he uses in battle and how he can control his powers, and he's also figuring out just how much his sense of duty means to him. He's serious about his role as a Shinigami, but when he's faced with someone he cares about getting harmed, that goes out the window in furious fashion; similar to how he is by the time of the main story, but lacking the better control and resolve he has by that point -- for instance, I think a younger, less experienced Hitsugaya would've abandoned his fight with Harribel after Hinamori got injured by Ayon to go help her. And he's still coming to terms with being a Shinigami, and with Hinamori also being one. It's a dangerous path for both of them, and they went into it for different (but some similar in a way) reasons.

While writing for this aspect in particular, I thought there might be a tragic element to their bond and particular traits even before they were put under the strain of Aizen's betrayal. Hitsugaya cares about others, but there's only a select few he feels close to, and if any of them are harmed or killed, it has the potential to make him abandon everything he's built for himself. Hinamori cares about more people, but it also means she has more people to worry about or lose in times of crisis. Their bond is precious for these reasons, but also tenuous because they've nearly lost each other way too many times. That Hinamori could ask Hitsugaya to do anything and that there's likely very little he would not do for her out his care and will to protect her, even if it means harm coming to himself physically, emotionally, or to everything he has built for himself. It comes from a lack of maturity to a great extent, I think, which is why he is quick to anger in the main series when Aizen antagonizes him about Hinamori.

Still, because Hinamori cares as deeply as does for as many people as she does, even when she loses someone or goes through a hard time, there will always be someone there for her and she can be there for them if they need her, whether it's Izuru and Renji being her Academy buddies, Shinji and Rangiku there to help her after Aizen betrayal, or Hitsugaya in this fic being by her side while she's recovering from an injury. For Hitsugaya, having those few people who he deeply cares about and who care about him in return is his motivation to get stronger, to be greater than what or who he thinks he is. He's chosen to let Hinamori in as close as he has, and it comes with it's benefits and drawbacks. And how could he not? She was one of the few who cared for him when only his Granny did. One of the few who has been a constant in his life. She accepted him whole-heartedly, and he in turn didn't see her strong will to see the good in others and willingness to help as weaknesses like some would.

He would do anything for her because he deeply cares, but I think he also sees the goodness she brings those around her and believes the world needs more people like her. He doesn't see that in himself, instead focusing on his powers and ability to protect her and others -- things I think were put at the forefront of his mind by his Academy lecturers and senior Shinigami noting his prodigal status and also by his low self esteem from his struggles in the Junrinan.

But Hinamori does see in him the very same qualities he sees in her as well as his powers and fighting talents. In this fic, she trusts him with fighting for everyone, and in a better state of mind, I don't think she would ask him to do what he did here (or when pleading for him to save Aizen in the main series). Then again, she may have asked him due to the duties of a Shinigami and trusting and believing in Hitsugaya's abilities. But even when everyone is safe, she still felt the need to apologize, even when she knew he could win and believed in him.

In the end, Hitsugaya doesn't care about having these powers for the sake of fighting or status. He cares about the people he cares for, and will use the powers he has to protect them. Even with her admiration for Aizen blinding her to who he is and making her focus on working at his side, Hinamori has a strong sense of duty and care towards those she fights alongside, whether they're strangers or her friends. She believes in Hitsugaya, in his abilities and his goodness as a person. It's why she smiles when they touch foreheads, in relief that he's safe and in knowing he cares. In her eyes, he doesn't need to change, he the stable constant for most of her life. but Hitsugaya didn't see that; he saw what he thought he needed to become.

I hope I was able to convey all of this.

I know as a fan of something there's a tendency to over-read into the smallest things, and in this case maybe that's what I've done, but while writing this fic, I couldn't help but feel and think about all of these aspects. I see the potentials from the bread crumbs we got in the main series and I always want to explore them.

If you've made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my fic and this author's note, I sincerely appreciate it.

#hitsuhina #toshiro hitsugaya #momo hinamori #two weeks of hitsuhina 2024 #bleach #fanfiction #angst #I also had a completely different ending for this fic #I was conflicted right up to the last minute about which ending I should go with #I might post it #I was also conflicted on the title #kept think if it should be 'In Your Eye in the Rain'#or what I went with because I wanted to include the ice too #and yes what Aizen said was deliberate #he knew what he saying there before he left

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threadmonster · 8 months ago

Text

Concept:

It's May 4th and Shinra has been talking about his plans to marathon Star Wars with Celty. He isn't particularly interested in the series but Celty is intrigued by aliens and all. Izaya is annoyed. Of course Shinra, as usual, only cares about Celty. It still makes him feel gloomy though, it's not like Shinra ever forgot his birthday before.

He gets even more annoyed when Shinra calls him for a favor. Why should he care if Shinra forgot a few things at the store? But it's fine, whatever, it's not like he has anything better to do. Even his own sisters didn't bother to send him his birthday death threat.

Shinra told him to let himself in. He doesn't know why all the lights are off. He huffs and turns them on all just to be bombarded by a chaotic mess of "Happy Birthday" wishes and a camera flash in his face.

He doesn't know what to say or how to react. He sees Shinra, Celty, his sisters, Kyohei and the van gang, Simon was there. He wants to get mad, how dare he be fooled like this. In truth, he doesn't even know how to feel about it.

You see, his self-worth is so low that he can't understand, people do care about him.

#{domino talks}#durarara #izaya orihara #i have posts about izaya's self worth based off the spin off novels #also i think even if people can agree “ikebukuro is better without izaya” and he doesn't seem missed at all (cite: SH)#they probably still care #...despite him ending up in the hospital and no one cared then #look i could have made a sad birthday post but i decided to go a little fluffy #also the twins definitely send death threats for his birthday just try to change my mind #shizuo was invited but he didn't know whether he should go or not #if they were trying to do something nice for the flea then he'd just ruin it anyway #it's better if he doesn't get involved #this is an au where Shizaya aren't complete enemies #they just think “he hates me so what's the point of trying to change anything” basically #the whole “if under different circumstances could they be friends” thing #maybe shizuo has a saved draft that he's hesitant to send “happy birthday flea”#idk what if i had motivation to make this into a fic? that'd be cool?#i feel like this would be his 19th birthday? idk 乁⁠(⁠ ⁠•⁠_⁠•⁠ ⁠)⁠ㄏ

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prince-liest · 9 months ago

Note

oh my god…. prince……. you can’t do this to me. you’re saying next fic has vox getting fucked, focuses on vox’s transness (AH), AND ALSO HES ON THE OFF SEE SAW OF HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH VAL?????? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL MEE?!!?!!????? I THINK I MIGHT ACTUALLY COMBUST. and bc another anon asked abt how alastor views the violence in voxval’s relationship, i have Another thought on the matter. as much as alastor looks down on vox, they can be Very similar sometimes. they are both egomaniacs and very prideful. i don’t think vox, without outside interference, would ever ADMIT that the violence he faces is 1) something he truly hates AND 2) out of his control. he can’t admit he hates it, because then why isn’t he stopping it? that would be admitting to not being powerful enough or strong enough. and hello, 50’s toxic masculinity coming through, he CANT be a victim of domestic violence. he’s a powerful, rich, and important man. it all comes down to perceived weakness. so, the solution is to pretend he’s mostly fine with it. sure, he can act disgruntled and upset in the moment, but i don’t think he’d ever let himself take it seriously. because then he has to start drawing lines in the sand, and what happens then? will val look down on him? will he lose val? yeah, he is not risking that over a problem he mostly refuses to acknowledge exists. and as you said, this is all happening in the setting of hell, where ultra violence IS the norm, and vox himself is excessively violent. it’s the most delicious 50 layer cake of fucked up-ness.

RANT ASIDE THO. i have a question. 2. do you ever plan on having vox interact with the hotel crew outside of angel? ANDDDD what would charlie’s reaction be to their friendship/situationship/ kinda love affair. i think she could add SOOOOO much hilarity and Intense Emotions to this series. not that the boys haven’t been doing their part in that so far. charlie just intensifies everything she does, god bless her. -🌓

The "getting fucked" bit and the trans conversation bit are directly related to and relevant to each other, and frankly I'm just very happy to be out here writing the specific flavors of deeply queer shenanigans that I'm writing, and to have people actively enjoy that. It genuinely means a lot to me that I've strayed so goddamn far out of the bounds of good old top/bottom yaoi archetypes that introduced me to fandom and yet have a wildly enthusiastic audience nonetheless. So, that was my long way of saying that you bring me a lot of fucking joy, anon, hahaha.

As for everything you're saying about Vox, power, and masculinity: YOU! points dramatically at you YOU GET IT! YOU GET IT!!!!!! Everyone just read this, this is it, this is the thing. I have no notes to add. There is a reason that the main point he raises the moment he actually says something vulnerable about it (before he immediately cuts himself off) is a complaint that he's an overlord, so why—?

And with regards to your questions: I'm not gonna lie, my actual planning for 666 is usually, like, extremely by the seat of my pants. I plan nothing except, "Oh, shit, had an idea for the next one. Lesgoooo—" and that's been the case for literally every single installment. It's all just been evolving naturally and building on top of itself. So! I can't say that I plan to have Vox interact with the hotel crew or Charlie, but I also will never say that I'm actively opposed to it.

That said, I do think a lot of this fic is kinda structured around hitting specific topics that come up in intimate settings between Vox and Alastor specifically, with occasional tag-ins from Angel Dust, so I don't really know if there's anything in particular I'd like to write that I think would work better in this series if more characters got involved. But, hey! Never say never!

#ask #personal #half moon anon #long post #hazbin hotel #radiostatic #666 live on air #I do agree with you I adore Charlie and in particular I adore her weird relationship with Alastor #actually before I decided to not make this COMPLETELY unhealthy I had a very very different idea for how to write the rut fic #involving basically Alastor getting pressured and also compulsory allonormativity-ing himself into having sex with Vox #and THAT outline DID involve abso-fucking-lutely everybody sticking their noses into the situation in deep deep alarm #Charlie Angel Husk and even fucking Lucifer showed up #but uh that was also the version of this series that ended with the radiostatic relationship pretty well nuked so #ended up NOT writing the “bad end” edition LOL #maybe one day I'll write it as an AU or something when I feel like upsetting absolutely everyone including myself #my writing #nsft

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juliareed · 4 months ago

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youtube

Fandom: Alias Relationships: Sark/Sydney Song: Spiracle by Flower Face Content warnings: Blood, death, violence, spiders, insects, flashing lights

#aliasedit #alias #sydney bristow #julian sark #sark x sydney #ssplus #fanvid #myedit #s/s dares to ask a question #what if your mother created a killing machine and that machine was obsessed with you BECAUSE it's your mother who made him.#like it's a part of his code your mother designed. or not code - but because he learned everything about the world by watching her.#like the only kind of humanity your mother allowed him - the only kind of humanity left after she was done with him - was this.#because it's the only kind of humanity she allowed to herself.#to not ever be completely sure if your mother ever loved you and then learn something like this?#what if your mother's killing machine grew up hearing stories about you.#what if your mother's killing machine looked up to you as a child and wanted to make your mother proud just like you did.#what if your mother's killing machine learned about your existence a full decade before the two of you met.#what if your mother's killing machine was conditioned to love you.#what if your mother on purpose designed her killing machine to be flawed. to have a weakness that shouldn't be there.#from her words all to protect you. and what if one day her plan backfired.#what if one day your mother's killing machine turned against your mother for you. turned against his creator for you.#what if your mother's secret plan worked A LITTLE BIT TOO WELL and she lost control over you both. what then. literally what then!!!!!!!#also i don't think we talk enough about that scene in conscious where in sydney's dream jack turns into sark's father.#what if i dreamed my father was your father. what if you said my mother was like your mother. what exactly does that make us.#and what if we also shared a name. what if a part of me - the part i feared the most - had your name.#while working on this realized also that i want a fic where every day for months sydney sees a ghost of someone sark killed.#it's always someone different. and at some point it starts to feel like it's never going to end.#the ghosts will be right there with her for the rest of her life. as always i just want #some sydney introspection and sydney grappling with the idea that her own mother turned a human being into THIS.#which goes along with facing the fact that it could have been her on his place.

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cheswirls · 4 months ago

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magi rambling

idk it jus hit me out of nowhere how much i love magi fic and how sinja is portrayed in such. imo THEEEE best magi fic of all time is works cowritten by galiko and daphnerunning, those two were genuinely on galaxy brain mega dimension level thinking full time, but like less abt magi meta as a whole and more on how the characters are so true to themselves and their flaws

it's been so long that in not gonna be able to remember who all did it but i def remember all of galiko's sinja fic that also portrayed sinbad/judal to some extent, that it was made very clear in the text how differently and on different footing both relationships stood. judal especially in their hands was written so well in a way that changed how i viewed the character in canon to some extent and in every other piece of fictional media. like how can you write someone so pathetic and deceptive and a bastard and it's all perfectly in character

I've never been into sin/ju and i don't think i ever read anything w them in fic seriously or w/o skimming but i did sit thru enough to know how the galiko/daphne pair brought them forth and made it very wanton-ly obvious that sin is always just manipulating judal and leading him on to get what he wants at the end of it all, but in contrast, it's clear that he so deeply loves ja'far in ways mere words cannot express

to see the relationship dynamics compared and contrasted in fic was always such a treat because sin treats almost everyone like they're a stepping stone used to further his own objectives, but then he treats his advisor like a genuine person. shows real care and concern, becomes inconsolable when ja'far is hurt, refuses to quell his rage for any reason when someone has wronged ja'far. his advisor truly is his precious person that he can strip down out of his title as king and just be sinbad around.

and this is even further glorified when ja'f knows but insists he doesn't!!! playa it off bc sin is king and this is uncouth!!! only to have such moments of weakness when anything goes terribly wrong and he's suddenly on the brink of death, terrified of leaving sin behind all alone, letting himself have just as long as it takes to recover the bare minimum amount to bask in sin's unending devotion. they truly do treat each other differently in canon and otherwise and it's so gratifying to see and realize each time as someone who loves sinja so dearly

#there's was one specific fic scene i had in my head for this all #but i think i am thinking also of another scene from a completely different fic #and am trying to make them the same fic somehow??? maybe one is a sequel and they're the same au verse #anyway the first is undoubtedly when ja'f takes on al thamen and comes back in a coma #and it's actually a pov judal scene where he witnesses sinbad again at his mere advisor's bedside #and even if he knew before it finally clicks in his heart that oh this is the one person sin truly cares for #and he storms off in a huff to aladdin to sulk over it #the second is i think either an entirely different fic or the prequel to the other one!#where near the end ja'f sacrifices his rukh in a hail mary to end kouen's siege on sindria #loses i think either one or both legs in the process of absorbing baal's magic to use sinbad's vessel #doesn't even work and kouen ends up inflicting /another/ mortal wound that's not y'know the missing legsssss #and right before he can die for real sinbad shows up and immediately takes stock of the situation #doesn't even hesitate to kill kouen in THE most gruesome act of violence i have ever seen in a piece of fiction EVER #and then with the threat neutralized he just picks ja'f up and cradles him in his arms #and ja'f truly breaks down at this point bc he's gone thru SOOOO MUCH to fight on his own #bc he never once doubted sin was still alive but everyone else around him slowly but surely gave up hope #and he can't help full on sobbing mind break bc sin is here now and it's all over now #and AGAIN it's the judal pov where he clocks it as #'oh these two are so completely devoted to each other and each other alone and no one else even compares'#anyway hiiii i am unwell once again thinking abt superbly written sinja in fanfic #edit; oh guess what it WAS the same fic for both #it's just that that fic is 230K LONG so yea ofc there's room for both to happen

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scrawnytreedemon · 1 year ago

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Is it so bad that I don't really like ships of characters I simp and I only like the reader insert fics with them?

Yeah I can't deny I'm jealous of the canon x canon ships with my faves, knowing that they possibly can be together while I can't. I know it's dumb,so that's why I never hate on someone who likes those ships I just ignore it

Like Sefikura for example, I don't like it cuz I'm a massive hoe for Sephiroth,also bcuz sometimes they make the ship pretty icky,also bcuz Cloud is baby and I'm still angy at Sephy for mentally torturing my Babyboy like that

IT'S CHAOS WITH MY FICTIONAL FAVES!!!!!!

Nothing wrong with that, personally! I get wanting to indulge in the warmth of a good fantasy-- That is what alot of fiction is for, after all.

Bless you, anon. Alas, as someone also plagued with my own Dumb and Horrid Fictional Feelings, the brain can be such a little bitch when it comes to that stuff. Good on you for recognising how and why you feel that way, ignoring the stuff you don't like and focusing on what you do.

LMAO I get that completely. I should mention, though, that I am one of those people who indulges in the nastier side of the ship, lmaooo. Even so, I get why it wouldn't click with you.

(FR when is it not?)

#scrawny rambles #scrawny answers #ty for your letter anon <3 #completely different tangent aside from yours #very introspective stuff ahead feel free to ignore you know the deal #i have alot of respect for selfshippers #considering my sisters kicked me out of the habit very early on and i've been Mortified ever since #but man... i think if i want an reader!fic i can jive with i'd have to write my own #once again no shade to the writers you guys keep living it up #but alot of it ends up being 'i would NOT say that' for mehgkjfgdjh #GOD i remember this ghirahimxreader fic i read ages ago #and at some point y/n's parents show up as yiga #and i'm like. what father. I HAVE NO FATHER. or i have two. it fucking depends. both absent either way.#POINT IS i think there are alot of ways my life and cultural experiences differ that if anything makes it *harder* for me to be immersed #also the Shame. but i think that can be overcome. spite my siblings lmaooo.#again anon entirely different thread from yours #just plopping some thoughts here i've had for awhile

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elvenbeard · 2 years ago

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Without any context whatsover (except for the fic I'm currently writing): love is stored in the olive jar.

#otp: to bad decisions #cause you know... reasons #had kerry not done xyz #vince wouldn't have done xyz #and then everything would have been completely different #fucking olive jar turning into the main reason why they're getting their happy ending smh #in this fic at least #yes I'm 100% serious #they're called 'to bad decisions' for a reason #writing stuff #also yes I'm losing my mind about my own writing sssshhh #I'm excited how this is developing is all xD cause I didn't see it coming either

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playingplayer2 · 8 days ago

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For being arachnophobic I find spider-esque traits unfortunately attractive.

#staring woefully at a fic where one of my favourite characters ended up w/ a spider mutation and suddenly became infinitely hotter #sobbing AGAIN bc of a different fic with another character (completely different fandom) being based off of jorōgumo #dramatically sobbing into my pillows at the description of a spider monster based off of a jorōgumo in a fic i read bc she sounded hot #also me #screeching and jumping back when i see a spider but also doinb my damnedest to not kill the poir thing cos it's just tring to survive #(i am also scared of frogs and toads bc ... theyre so SMOL what if i accidentally hurt it?)#(but actually i have really bad reactions to spider bites and for some reason spiders will just fucking bite me for no fucking reason.#dropped down from my ceiling? BITTEN. crawls onto me when i'm outside? BITTEN. like bruh what did i DO?!)#spiders #but also spider genuinely freak me out. i say. as tho i havent had one sided arguments with a spider in the corner of my room before

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xviruserrorx · 9 months ago

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Nothing like having to rework a 15k fic because you realize the story would tell better in a different pov 🫠

#im fine really im just... great #i've already been rewriting this fic but then i had an epiphany the other night and ugjddbjsbxjdhdjc #this is my make or break moment for this fic #because if i change pov then 1.) it flows much better with chapter 2 like a lot better #and 2.) i can backtrack a bit and add in more before the main bit and add that little tibit i cane up with the other night #BUT then 1.) i will have to cut some parts that dont have the new character in them which #kinda makes sense because they focus on the other character's relationship with a different character but this story ain't about them #but also 2.) adding the little tibit might completely change the whole entire story from this one little thing #but but but!!!! it makes the main two characters so much compelling/interesting because now theres another factor #in their relationship that was out of their control and happened way before they got tied up in each kther with sero stakes #just!!!!!!!! ishdisbdjdnjdhxjdjddjdjdj #this is what happens when your consistently writing a fic for almost 4 years...#its the Ingenuous because what other fic would it be honestly this fic makes me so unwell #i have put my ALL into this fic and i mean ive broken myself down into this fic and its a monster of something so i dont even know #ive written so many lines that i genuinely have to put everything down and stare at the wall for a while #im so close #im so close to something of an ending and yet im still far away from everything in-between #the Ingenuous #the fic that haunts me and i let it #virus rambling

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starcrossedmusings · 4 months ago

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Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #atz #yunho smut #yunho x reader #yunho imagines

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swanlikely · 2 months ago

Text

Current Brainrot: Helping Husband Nanami! Unwind

Author's Note: This scrumptious gem graced my timeline today, and I couldn't resist writing a fic about it. Do yourself a favor and follow the artist on Twitter, and while you're at it, check out her Patreon—it's totally worth it! (Artist & Her Patreon)

not proof-read! (sorry if there are any errors - let me know and i'll fix it!)

CW: AFAB! reader, usage of she/her, handjob (m! receiving), oral (m! receiving), pet names, role-play (prostitution), public sex

word count: 2k

✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖

Nanami was the epitome of dedication, tirelessly clocking in countless hours at the office to ensure his sweet wife lived in the lap of luxury. He was a gentleman in every sense. Yet, sometimes, this relentless work ethic could be his Achilles' heel.

Stress was making its unwelcome presence known in Nanami, with shadows deepening under his honey-gold eyes and the weight of the world pressing down on his broad shoulders. He was beat. After surviving yet another grueling twelve-hour shift, he was at his limit. All he craved was to return home to you, his loving wife.

And as his loving wife, you couldn't miss the signs. You saw how he would collapse into bed like stone after a long day, too exhausted to even finish his dinner. You heard the frustrated groans as he dragged himself out of bed each morning. But most importantly, you felt the strain in your bedroom.

Not to say Nanami wasn't satisfying you—quite the opposite, he was only satisfying you.

Despite his exhaustion, his touch was tender yet fervent, his kisses a mix of urgency and devotion. He'd make sure to lap at your cunt each night, with his talented tongue. Letting you know just how much he loved you, how he put your needs above his own. But that was exactly it—what about him? It worried you to no end; all you wanted to do was make sure your husband was happy. Seeing him give so much of himself, you felt a uncomfortable combination of gratitude and concern. You wanted to reciprocate, to show him the same level of care and passion. You longed to ease his burdens, to be his sanctuary just as he was yours. The thought of him carrying all that weight alone tugged at your heart, and you resolved to find a way to bring balance, to ensure he was taken care of as well.

Which was exactly why you weren't at home, playing the doting wife as always, but leaning up against his car hood, dressed in something completely out of character for you.

Fishnets, Daisy Duke shorts, and a tank top that hugged every curve clung to your body, making you a walking temptation. You watched your husband approach the car through glittery, half-lidded eyes. Letting out an exaggerated whistle, you purred, "Well, hello handsome," catching your husband's eyes.

He was just a few steps away, his furrowed brows and confused smile giving away his exhaustion. The dark circles under his eyes were still visible, and his button-up shirt was slightly wrinkled. It had clearly been another long day for him, and you were ready to melt away all that stress. But you couldn't do it as his wife; no, you needed to become someone else entirely. You had to offer him an escape from reality.

"What're you doing here, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice gruff and drawn out. His hair was still neatly groomed, and oh, you wanted to make a mess of that. Make a mess of him. "Also, I'm not one to tell you what to wear, but this is different." His eyes roamed your body, lingering over your breasts to the tips of your black heels. He was right, this was different.

"Mmhm, you like?" You bite down on your glossy, plump bottom lip. Nanami swallowed hard.

"Just a girl trying to make some money tonight," you continue, against the hood of his car. Your elbows prop you up, pushing out your breasts that were practically spilling out. "Ah, I see," he murmured. His eyes, though shadowed with exhaustion, now swam with an almost predatory hunger that swirled in the depths of his amber gaze.

You giggled at the fact that your husband was playing along with your little game, as he always did. Though tonight wasn't for you; no, it was all for him. Placing your delicate palm against Nanami's sculpted chest, he shivered for a moment. That was new.

"So, Mister, would you like to help a girl out and make use of my services?" Your voice was hot and breathy as you slowly undid the first button of his dress shirt. Nanami's eyes tracked the movement of your perfectly manicured fingers, lingering on the way they teased each button. A surprising rose-tint spread across his cheeks, his usual stoic demeanor giving way to a vulnerable flush. You could get drunk off of him.

"What kind of man would I be if I didn't help a pretty girl like you out?" Nanami chuckled, a bit sheepish, as he fumbled with the car keys, finally managing to unlock the doors. Seeing such a strong, composed man acting so coy made your thighs clench. This outfit and role were really doing it for him, huh?

After hearing the car beep, you quickly pulled both yourself and your husband inside, sliding into the backseat. It was a tight fit, with Nanami's broad frame hovering over you, his arms and legs straddling your body. The closeness made you acutely aware of just how much bigger he was than you. Instinctively, his mouth found your neck, immediately shifting into husband mode. But tonight, you wouldn't let him neglect his own needs just to please you.

"Stop," you groan, fighting the urge to let Nanami do what he normally does. He immediately pulls away, his eyes filled with worry. He searches yours for answers but only finds eyes brimming with lust. "No touching, you're paying for my services, remember?" you giggle, pressing against his chest to flip him over. Now, you were on top, straddling his lap. His heavy cock pressed against you, straining against the confines of his trousers, yearning to be free. The two of you were panting, the heat between you making the car windows fog up. You were lucky the parking garage was deserted at this hour.

"I, uh, sweetheart…" he stammered, struggling to find the words as you mirrored his earlier actions. Your mouth traced a path from his neck down to the exposed part of his collarbone, licking and sucking gently. Lips parted and teeth against skin. You couldn't help but think, God, you needed to do this more often.

His hips jerked against yours, causing the both of you to throb with want. The fabric of your shorts was already damp, barely able to contain the heat building between you. Your hands roamed down his muscular frame, your fingers tease as they reached the zipper of his trousers. You fumbled with it, the anticipation making your breath hitch. His low groan in your ear sent shivers down your spine, and you pressed closer, feeling the urgency of his need matching your own.

"Please let me touch you, just a little," he pleaded, his grip tightening on the leather seat, veins on his arms standing out. The desperation in his voice sent a thrill through you. You had made Nanami Kento, usually so proper, whine like a slut. You leaned in closer, your breath mingling with his, reveling in the power you held in that moment.

"Here, you can get a kiss, but it'll cost you extra," you laugh, pressing your open mouth to his. The kiss was sloppy, tongues intertwining with a fervor that made your head spin. His mouth was hot, and he tasted delectable—an unexpected blend of mint and cinnamon. You were melting into him. "Nghhh, sweet girl, let me touch you..." Nanami's voice was trembling, his restraint barely holding on. This was absolute torture for him; he wasn't used to being the one pampered.

"No," Your fingers hooked onto the belt loops of his khaki trousers, slowly tugging them down to reveal his throbbing cock, leaking precum. A frustrated moan caught in his throat as he waited for you to do something, anything.

His cock was pretty, more so than usual tonight. It was a darker shade of pink, thick and pulsing, with veins prominently visible at the base, likely from all the accumulated stress. Nanami hadn't cum in the past two weeks, so naturally, he was this pent up. His cock was so tempting, begging for attention.

As you wrapped your glossy lips around the tip, Nanami's hips jerked involuntarily, aching for more. The desire to thrust into the back of your throat and make a mess of your slutty makeup consumed him, but Nanami, being the gentleman he was, forced himself still. After all, he wouldn't want to harm his lovely wife, right?

But that's not what you wanted. You wanted Nanami to take out all his anger, all his stress, all his bad days on you. To defile you in a way he would a slut. That's who you were tonight, right? No longer his wife, but the whore he needed.

"Don't hold back, use me," you groaned against his cock, your mouth still wrapped sweetly around it. Drool dribbled down as you pleaded for him to let go. Getting Nanami to be rough was like asking to be struck by lightning—rare, but when it happened, it was electrifyingly intense.

"Such a dirty girl," without hesitation, Nanami began to buck his hips, driving his cock deep into your throat. Your mouth watered, saliva pooling at the base of his needy cock. He was so thick, making it a struggle not to gag. "Such a good whore for me," Tears welled up in your eyes, and your cheeks hollowed as you fought to keep up with his relentless pace.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…" He kept repeating, babbling at this point as he used your mouth. He was drunk on pleasure, feeling the plush, wet insides of your mouth and the back of your throat. The sensation was overpowering for him, and you could see it in the way his body shuddered and groans flying from his mouth. It felt so good watching him writhe in ecstasy, completely lost in the moment. His hands gripped your hair tighter, guiding you as he continued to lose himself in you. The sight of him so vulnerable only fueled your urge to push him further into this blissful state.

You began to hum as he thrust into you, the vibrations around his length driving him insane. He let out the most beautiful grunt, a sound that sent jolts straight to your dripping cunt. You could tell he was close; his movements were becoming erratic and more forceful, causing you to gag and choke each time he hit the back of your throat. Perfect. He needed this release, and so did you. The anticipation had been building for weeks, and now you were desperate to taste him, to feel that connection you had been craving.

"Sweetheart, I can't," he breathed out, his legs stiffening and back arching slightly, plunging him deeper into your throat. His tip was bruising your throat by now, but you didn't care. You needed to see your husband come undone. Using a free hand to grip the base of his length, you began to pump up and down in rhythm with his thrusts. You were going to send him into a spiral, make him regret not being more selfish these last two weeks, make him wish he'd never taken that overtime at the stupid office.

"Gonna come," he winced, the words dragging out as his handsome face contorted in pleasure. Nanami's grip tightened on the back of your head, thrusting his length into your throat with desperation. You could definitely feel the bruises forming, but the feeling only heightened the moment. His hot, salty cum erupted into your throat, filling your mouth and leaving you with barely any time to savor its taste. The sheer force of his release made your eyes water and throat flex, but you reveled in the raw, filthiness. As he pulled back, you licked your lips, catching the last remnants of him, a satisfied smirk playing on your face.

His mouth agape, cheeks flushed, and eyes completely spent as he was panting to catch his breath. You completely wrecked him. "God, you're...incredible," he managed to say between shallow breaths, still reeling from his orgasm. The sight of him so messy only made you want to see him like this again and again. You could see the way his muscled chest heaved, each rise and fall a testament to the pleasure you had just given him. His hands, which had been gripping you with such fervor, now lay limp at his sides, fingers twitching slightly as if still remembering the feel of you.

As he slowly regained his composure, a lazy smile spread across his face. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you," he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with sincerity.

"Now, how much extra for another kiss?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

"It's on the house,"

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loves0phelia · 2 months ago

Text

Casual

Summery: Casual things you and JJ did before starting to date.

Words: 2k

Warning: bad grammar

A/N: This is my first JJ fic hope you like it

Rumours about the annual beach bonfire had been heard all week, the one night where Kooks and Pogues set aside their differences and partied in peace.

Initially, you’d planned to skip it—staying home with a good movie sounded way more appealing than hanging out with half of the outer banks on the beach. But when a classmate invited you, and your parents chimed in, insisting it would be a great way to make new friends, you found yourself agreeing to go.

The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the sand as laughter and chatter echoed around you. You found yourself sitting on a wooden log, idly watching the orange flames dance.

Your train of thought was interrupted when a blond boy dropped beside you, his sudden presence snapped you back to reality. You glanced over, surprised, as he settled in with a casual smile.

“I haven't seen you around here before” his body was turned completely to you, giving you his entire attention.

"I just moved here a couple of months ago…" you said, feeling a bit shy as you glanced at his deep blue eyes.

JJ hummed and then noticed the small stash of candy in your lap, carefully guarded under your arm.

"What's that?" he asked.

You hugged the candy closer, "Candies, I didn't know if there was gonna be any snacks here so… I brought my own" You shrugged.

“Can I have one?” he grinned mischievously.

“I only have my favourite left” You looked down at the nearly empty box of Sour Patch Kids.

"Come on, just one. Sharing is caring, you know?" JJ chuckled, leaning a little closer, his arm brushing yours. He reached out, but you swatted his hand away, giggling.

But JJ was quick—faster than you expected. With a winning grin, he managed to snatch a piece from the carton box in your lap, popping it in his mouth before you could protest.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, half-annoyed, half-amused.

“I'll see you around sweets” After that he walked away still savoring your candy.

“what the hell” you muttered under your breath, you had not expected your night to end with a candy thief.

It was a typical evening at the local seafood shack, and you were rushing between tables, balancing trays of oysters and fried shrimp baskets.

"Well, look who’s working hard," JJ drawled, flashing his usual grin.

You turned around, surprised to see the thief from the other night leaning casually against the counter. The last person you expected to see at your job, but somehow not a surprise at all. He tossed you a wink as you grabbed your notepad and pen.

“Candy thief,” you said, arching an eyebrow.

“That’s me,” JJ replied, laughing. “Pretty sure I’ve got an order under the name JJ Maybank.”

“Finally, I can put a name to that face.” You rolled your eyes playfully, turning to grab the brown bag labelled JJ Maybank, filled with fish tacos and crawfish. As you handed it over, you asked, “Anything else with that order?”

He leaned in, flashing that signature smirk. “Yeah, I’ll also take your number if it’s on the menu.”

You felt a blush creeping up but managed a smirk. “Bold request for a thief.”

JJ shrugged, still grinning. “I thought it was the special tonight. It's written on the window” You glanced at the window where the words “chefs special monday-friday” reflect back to you.

“I thought a sweet like you was the chef's special, my bad” he added only worsening the state of your red cheeks.

After a pause, you scribbled your number on a napkin and slipped it into his bag. “Consider it one-time only.”

JJ’s eyes lit up as he took the bag. “Perfect. I’ll call you, then I'm gonna take you out somewhere that doesn’t smell like shrimp!" He yelled across the restaurant and disappeared behind the doors leaving you with a bunch of customers staring directly at your flushed face.

It was nearly midnight when you heard the faint, familiar tapping on your window. Smiling to yourself, you tiptoed over and pulled it open, revealing JJ’s face. He climbed in with ease, careful not to make a sound, and you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as he landed lightly on your bedroom floor.

“Hey,” you whispered, watching him recover from his fall quickly and proceed to settle on your bed.

“Make yourself at home” You laughed and followed after him under the cozy and soft blankets.

JJ wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as you both lay back. The quiet murmur of the movie playing on your TV plays in the background, but all you can really focus on is the warmth of his presence. You’d only known each other for a couple of months, yet moments like this already felt like second nature.

After a while, JJ sighed a hint of playfulness in his voice. “You know, it just hit me… I haven’t even taken you on the date I promised the first time I saw you at your work yet.”

You turned to him, amused. “I forgot about that. So where would you take me, then?”

He thought for a second, his eyes lighting up. “I was thinking we could go stargazing, just you, me, and a bunch of candy. What do you think about that, sweets?”

Your heart fluttered at the nickname, he's been calling you that since day one but the butterflies never fail to flutter and you smiled, feeling a little bashful. “That actually sounds perfect.”

JJ’s face softened as he brushed a stray hair from your face. “Good.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and you nestled into him, many would say you were a couple but nothing was official yet.

JJ was stretched out on your bed, casually tossing a piece of candy up and catching it in his mouth, while you looked through dresses in your closet Kiara had invited you to Midsummers—something you never thought you’d actually attend, given how much of a Kook affair it was. But after some convincing from her, you decided to give it a shot. Now, the only thing left was choosing a dress, and naturally, JJ had found himself roped into being your fashion advisor for the night.

“Alright, what do you think of this one?” you asked, walking out of your closet in a dress to show him. It was a soft, flowy, baby blue, with delicate lace along the sleeves.

JJ, mid-candy toss, froze, the small piece landing unceremoniously on his chest as he sat up.

“Wait… you’re actually wearing that?” he asked, blinking as if he needed to make sure he’d seen it right. “That has to be like a 100 bucks”

“Kiara said I should try something fancy, and I found it at the thrift store… I don’t know, I thought it was cute.”

JJ nodded, still staring at you as if he couldn’t look away. His usual air of easy confidence had completely vanished, and he just sat there, a little pink creeping up his cheeks.

“Yeah, uh… fancy. Right,” he murmured, his voice unusually soft. For a moment, he seemed completely at a loss for words, a rare sight when it came to JJ Maybank.

“You don’t like it?” you asked, feeling a hint of embarrassment creep in as he continued to look at you in silence.

He shook his head quickly, snapping back to attention. “No, no—I mean, I like it. I just… I mean, you’re already beautiful and all, but in that?” He let out a soft whistle, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re, like, the most stunning person, there’s no denying it.”

You felt warmth rise in your cheeks, his words catching you off guard. JJ wasn’t one to give out compliments like that, and hearing him say it made your heart skip a beat.

“So you like it, huh?” you asked, teasing him a little as you nudged his shoulder.

“Sweets, I don’t think anyone’s ready for how good you’re gonna look. And I, for one, am officially honoured to be the first to see it.” He gave you a look that was half-amused, half-awestruck.

“Alright, then,” you said, smiling as you looked down at yourself. “Guess that means I’m wearing it.”

JJ leaned back, his grin widening.

“Good call. Just so you know, though, I’m calling dibs on the first dance.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Oh, you are?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, winking. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Besides, I have to make sure one of those Kooks doesn't try to sweep you off your feet 'cause that's my job.”

It was warm outside the night of midsummer, the soft hum of laughter and chatter filled the air. You were standing by the snack table, chatting with one of the guests— a boy dressed with a fancy tuxedo, you had no interest in.

As you fake laughed at a joke he made, you felt a gaze burning into the back of your neck. You glanced over your shoulder and saw JJ standing by the door leading inside the house, his arms crossed, a tight frown on his face. There was a look in his eyes—something dark, almost possessive—that made your stomach flip. He wasn’t happy about something.

You turned back to the guest, unaware of the growing tension simmering behind you. It wasn’t until you felt a light tap on your shoulder that made you turned to see JJ standing right behind you now inches away, a forced smile on his face.

“Hey, mind if I steal you away for a second?” he asked, his voice a little too bitter for your liking.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at your lips. “Steal me away? What’s going on?”

JJ’s gaze flickered to the guest you’d been speaking with, then back to you. The jealousy was barely concealed, but it was there. “I need to talk to you. In private.”

Before you could protest, he gently guided you away from the boy, leading you through the house and into the backyard. The garden, draped in the soft glow of fairy lights, felt like a world apart from the party in front of the house. You walked slowly, and when you reached the center of the garden, JJ stopped.

“What’s up JJ?” You asked concerned.

“I hate seeing you with him,” JJ said, his voice barely above a whisper. He was standing too close, his gaze fixed on you with a burning intensity. “I don’t know why, but it drives me crazy”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean? We were just having a conversation.”

He shook his head, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “It’s not just that. It’s… it’s the way you make me feel. I can’t stand it anymore, pretending like we're just friends”

You stared at him, realizing what he was trying to say. The way his eyes softened, the way his voice shook with vulnerability and emotion.

“I—JJ, what are you saying?”

His hands cupped your face gently. “I’m saying that I love you. I’ve loved you for so long, and I’m tired of watching you be close to some other people without them knowing you're mine”

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing into yours. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. It was desperate, full of the passion and longing that had built up between you over the months. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as if he never wanted to let you go.

You kissed him back, your heart racing, the entire world fading away until it was just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“I love you, sweets”

“I love you too JJ, it was about damn time you say it” he smiled against your lips and pressed another kiss after another on your pink swollen lips.

#jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outerbanks

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