#I am thinking about continuing this so i decided to make this/repost it to try to get inspired

[esmedelacroix]

𝕬 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖑 𝕶𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝕴𝖘𝖓'𝖙 𝕬𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝕲𝖊𝖙 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖔𝖓 𝕳𝖎𝖘 𝕾𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉…

pairing: crown princess!reader x knight!miguel o'hara

cw: messy period sex, unprotected p in v, size kink, blood, dom!miguel o'hara, fingering, size kink, edging kinda, dacryphilia, slight degradation kink

a/n: hey lovies, this isn't my usual content but I have endometriosis and I hate it. But period sex always helps so here. This is set in sort of medival times. Hope you like it, a like, comment, or repost is always appreciated. Let me know what you think!

wc: 2.5k

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

"Ughhhh," "UGhhhH"

"Her Highness has started her menstrual cycle," Archibald, your retiring personal knight, explained to your new personal knight in training, Miguel.

"This is a common occurrence, nothing has ever helped her Highness," Archibald continued.

"Are the doctors not equipped with the medicine needed?" Miguel asked as he heard a high-pitched wail.

"They are but Her Highness has rather odd and abnormally painful symptoms. The doctors can't figure out a cure for it," he sighed.

Miguel bit the interior of his cheek in deep thought and during his break, he decided to go to the library. He sat at one of the desks with piles of biology and anatomy books.

He didn't know any way to make himself useful to you other than to try to study your condition and perhaps figure out a way to help you.

It was hard for him to find much of anything because scientists at the time paid little attention to studying women's bodies and the female reproductive system. It's quite disappointing because women are amazing. They can create life but all male scientists care about is themselves. "What a shame," Miguel muttered to himself as he opened up another textbook.

He didn't take the time to read the cover so he was flabbergasted when he began to read the contents of the book.

He was reading a study about the health benefits of an orgasm when in pain. There are specific chemicals released when both males and females experience an orgasm.

What if these same chemicals can combat menstrual pain, Miguel thought to himself. "Miguel it's time to return to your post," Archibald said as he entered the library.

"I'll be right there," Miguel said as he organized all of his books for later.

"You were studying?" Archibald asked as he led you down the halls.

"Yes, I wanted to see if there was anything I could do for Her Highness but I don't know much about menstrual pain," Miguel sighed.

Archibald hummed in response. "If you want to help the crown princess then you will take her lunch and medicine to her and attempt to get her to eat," she doesn't like to eat or do much anything other than squirm in her bed when she is experiencing menstrual pain.

"Okay," Miguel answered as he opened the doors to your room and brought your food and medicine to you on a tray. Archibald closed the door behind him and wished him luck.

Miguel was content to see that you were asleep and not suffering. You were curled up in a fetal position with a hot compress over your abdomen. Small tears were formed at the corners of your eyes. The pain had even made you cry in your sleep.

Miguel's heart sank seeing you in such a distressed manner. He softly shook your shoulder to wake you up. "Your Highness," he started softly seeing your eyes flutter open.

"It's time for your meal and medicine," he continued. You jolted awake as your eyes adjusted to the light then turned to look at him before feeling your face heat up.

"Who dares enter my room when I am so indecent?" you asked, pulling your sheets up because you were still in your nightgown.

"Where are my manners? I'm your new personal knight, Miguel O'Hara," he introduced with a bow.

You nodded in response, allowing yourself to calm down. You stretched out your arms and sat up against your headboard. Just as you did so, you winced in pain. "My lady, are you still feeling pain?" he asked.

"Yes, I should eat quickly so I can take that medicine," you groaned.

"Yes," Miguel said as he began to cut your food for you and held a forkful up to your lips. You were rather surprised by the gesture but you weren't opposed to it. Archibald never does this for me, you thought to yourself as you enjoyed your food.

There were moments when you had to take a break because of the pain but you finished your meal in record time. After finishing the medicine you were still in tears and extreme pain.

It was enough pain to make you wail. The rumors were true though, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Your voice was soothing even when you sobbed. When tears trickled down your cheeks they only added to your beauty.

Miguel hated to see such a beautiful woman in pain. Especially when there was nothing that he could do to alleviate it. Well, there was one thing he could do. He could suggest that you touch yourself. But weren't in the state to do even that. I could give her an orgasm, he thought to himself before shaking his head.

"No, that would be out of line," he muttered to himself quietly.

"What would be out of line?" you sniffled, turning to him.

"Um well, there was one remedy for your pain that I was researching. But it would be out of line if I helped you perform it," he explained.

"Please do it for me I'll do anything to stop feeling so much pain," you practically begged.

"I'm not sure if a lowly knight like myself should help you do this," he said, trying to convince you to let it go.

"Just tell me what it is, I'm sure I wouldn't mind you doing please just do this one thing for me, Miguel," she pleaded. Miguel was going to deny once more but once his name left your lips pounding like a beautiful song, he felt he couldn’t say no.

"Well, the remedy my lady, is to give you an orgasm," he admitted as his cheeks flushed.

Your own cheeks flushed when you realized that you were basically begging your personal guard to have intercourse with you. "Oh, that's most certainly not what I was expecting you to say," you said as he averted his eyes when you looked in his direction. You weighed the pros and cons of having sex with your new personal knight. You couldn’t even believe you were thinking of sex with a palace guard.

You put your hand to your chin as you thought about it for a good minute sizing him up out of the corner of your eye. He wasn't too bad looking. He was very big, you wondered if his penis was also big.

And his face, well it was magnificent. He looked like royalty in your eyes with that handsome face of his. You could see yourself having sex with him.

“Dismiss everyone on this floor of the palace, Miguel,” You commanded. Miguel shot you a confused look.

“I’m very loud in bed, chop chop Miguel,” you whispered as another wave of pain hit you. Miguel was surprised how your voice went from a sweet soft soft-spoken voice to one dripping in sin.

He got up and stepped out to the hallway relaying your command to Archibald who had everyone on the floor you were on gone in minutes.

“Now that we have some privacy, come here,” you demanded as you winced in pain.

Miguel walked up to you as you laid back holding onto the edge of his t-shirt bringing him down with you. Your faces are inches apart. Hot breaths fanning each other's lips. "Unsheathe your sword, Miguel," you whispered looking into his hungry eyes.

Miguel stripped himself still hovering over you. The second his name left your lips, it was as if you put him in a trance. He did everything he was asked to do. He then bunched up the hem of your nightgown slowly lifting it above your legs slowly. “May I?” he asked, trying to be as gentle as possible.

You propped yourself up on your elbows letting out an exasperated sigh, rolling your eyes. “You don’t have to be so formal, I need you, to fuck this royal pussy like I’m some common whore at a brothel, that’s an order Miguel” you spat as your face contorted in pain.

Miguel was surprised by your sudden dirty unladylike language. But that went straight to his hardening dick.

He took your nightgown off with a newfound sense of urgency. He was pleased to see that you were almost completely naked underneath, still sporting your menstrual underwear, nipples hardening at the feeling of the cold air hitting them.

He wasted no time pulling off your menstrual underwear and setting it aside. You spread your legs for him to get a better view of your pussy that was now throbbing with want.

Miguel ran his index from your bloody slit to your clit picking up the moisture of your blood and slick. Pressed on your aching bud with his thumb moving it in circular motions. A long moan erupted from your throat. Your hand gripped his wrist tightly as he pushed a finger into your aching hole still playing with your clit with another.

The muscles and veins in his arms flexed and pulsated as he worked your sopping-wet pussy. He added another one of his thick fingers stretching you in preparation for his fat cock. You only looked down for a second when he took his pants off and fear struck the pit of your stomach. He was so big you weren't sure if he'd even fit. That made your sick and twisted mind even thirstier. Wanting more and more of him.

Your hands gripped his arms until your knuckles practically turned white as you tried to suppress your moans as he slipped a third finger into your cunt that was coating his whole hand in your wetness and blood. "Don't conceal it, I wanna hear you, wanna make sure I'm making you feel good," he grunted into your ear as he began to rut against the bed. He lay in between your legs focused on fucking you with his fingers.

Your blood was dripping onto the sheets, but you didn't care, you felt too good. You moaned for him chanting a mantra of his name until his name and the stretch were all you could think about. "Miguel, inside, I want you inside please," you begged.

"Oh yeah? You want this cock in your pussy?" he taunted as a smirk graced his lips.

"Yesyesyesyesyes," was all you could moan out your mind going almost blank as your legs began to shake.

"Tell me how badly you want it, show me how badly you want it," he growled into your ear as he added a fourth finger and picked up the pace.

The pleasure almost completely took you over as fat tears formed at the corner of your eyes. "I need you, inside, Miguel please, need your cock," you moaned shamelessly moving your hips against his fingers matching his speed.

You grip the sheets with one hand, the other holding onto his, as your back arches. Blood and slick gushed out of your pussy as your orgasm approached you at lightning speed. Until it didn't, and you felt the pleasure died down completely. You let out a frustrated whine letting go of the sheets. "Miggy, why," you whined almost sobbing because of the stolen orgasm.

"You said you wanted me in you, you're going to have to work for it, my lady," he said as he lay on the bed and put you on top of him with ease. You straddled him looking down at him with tears in your eyes as he grinned at you.

"Miguel please, help me," you said as you positioned your slit in line with his bulbous tip that was dripping with precum.

"Uh uh uh, you gotta do that on your own," he cooed as he whipped a falling tear from your face.

"I will be your queen soon," you said sternly.

"But right now you're my whore, now get to work, this cock isn't going to ride itself," he spat as he slammed you down onto him practically impaling you on his dick.

You took a moment to adjust to his size. The stretch was amazing. You had never felt so full and he was hitting a sweet spot. You moved slowly, then faster, then much faster. You heard Miguel let out a moan almost sounding like a whimper.

He grips your hips tightly, surely making bruises as you milk him. His eyes rolled back as he tried his hardest not to explode right then and there because of how warm, wet, and tight your pussy felt.

Helpless moans of his name were spilling from your mouth as your blood spilled onto him staining his skin and your sheets. “That’s it, princess, just like that,” Miguel groaned.

Quickly you felt your orgasm approaching, the coil in your stomach about to snap. Your legs began to feel like jelly and you felt yourself stop moving. “I can’t, Mig, help,” you whined trying to keep moving.

“You’ve been a good girl, I’ll take care of ya’,” he said as she moved your hips with his hands that rested on them fucking himself up into you.

The Lewd sound of you chanting his name and wet skin slapping wet skin filled the room. As he picked up the pace your moans became more and more high-pitched. “You’re fuckin’ me s’ good Mig,” you moaned.

“Yeah? Tell me how good I’m doin’ you,” he grunted as fucked you harder too kissing your cervix as his dick started to twitch in you.

“S’ good, love this fat cock,” you whined as you clenched him hard as your legs shook violently.

“Cum with me baby,” he grunted as he pumped himself into you.

“Cumming, I’m gonna cum,” you whined as you creamed around his cock making a mess of him only being able to think of him and utter his name.

Miguel continued to fuck into you elongating your orgasm as he released his hot, thick, cum deep into your womb. You collapsed on top of him panting and trying to catch your breath.

You slowly slid out snuggling into his side. “Sorry, about the mess,” you started, gesturing to his half-soft member that was coated with your blood.

“Oh, no worries Your Highness, a real knight isn’t afraid to get blood on his sword,” he stated.

“I suppose that is true,” you replied, giggling a bit.

“So how is that menstrual pain?” Miguel asked as he caressed your bare back and planted small wet kisses into your neck.

“Honestly, I forgot I even had it, I guess it’s gone, I mean, you made me feel so good,” you sighed breathlessly.

Miguel slowly got up covering you with your bed sheets. “I’ll go ahead and run you a bath my lady,” he said as he prepared your towel, shampoo, and bath salts.

“Thank you, Miguel, I wouldn't be so opposed to you joining me,” you chirped.

“Oh, I do not wish to impose-“ he started before you cut him off.

“That’s an order, Miguel,” you whispered, with a small smirk playing on your lips. You were nowhere near done and neither was he.

"You little minx," he hummed as he disappeared into the bathroom.

. . .

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[piedinthepiper]

Prima Ballerina ˖ ⊹

Yandere!Jimin x ballerina!reader

Summary: What’s the difference between a great ballerina and the greatest ballerina? The answer is Park Jimin. And he had his eyes on you in more than a professional way.

Warnings: heavy dubcon, Jimin is super cocky and thinks he knows everything (misogyny?), cursing, corruption, Jimin is also a creep, age gap (reader is of legal age), stalking (non descriptive), smut

Wc: 4.3k

A/n: Written for this request. I love black swan and ballet so I had to do this! Hope you enjoy! Don’t be a silent reader! Like, repost and comment!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I know nothing about ballet except for whatever ballet they show in the Barbie movies. Everything is off Google, so some technical terms and such might be incorrect.

You did a final jump before the dramatic music came to an end. His eyes were piercing through you. Watching your every movement, your every step, your every breath. But he watched you all, you thought to yourself. Everybody had to be perfect for the premiere of Swan lake. The hardest and most demanding ballet you had ever danced in your career. The choreography was almost impossible. So Mr. Park had yet again kept you there for hours overtime, and all of you were exhausted.

“Agh, my feet hurt. I hope this was the last round.”

Your friend, Maria, whispered to you. You smiled at her and was about to answer, when a loud clap was heard throughout the room. It silenced everyone.

“Ms. Sanderson, do you have something to tell the company?”

Mr. Park locked eyes with her. Staring her down from across the room like a predator. She looked a bit tongue tied for a second.

“Ehm- no. No, Mr. Park.”

He nodded at her answer.

“I do think I heard complaining back there, are you sure you didn’t say anything?”

She looked down to the floor and carefully shook her head.

“I don’t believe you, you’re pathetic. Out of my studio!”

He yelled at her and pointed a sharp finger towards the exit. Her eyes continued to stay on the floor. Accepting her fate.

“I said it!”

You yelled back and raised your hand. His eyes turned back to you.

“Bold of you, Ms. y/l/n. Thanks to you all the swans have to practice for another hour. The rest are dismissed.”

The room was filled with sighs and groans.

“Ok, let’s make that two.”

No one uttered a single word, afraid that the time would get longer.

“That’s what I thought. You, come with me.”

He briefly pointed at you, before he started to walk out of the practice room.

“The rest of you can take a 10 minute break.”

Maria looked at you with a apologetic look.

“Thank you, y/n.”

She said and grabbed your hand. You gave her a small smile. Of course you would stand up for her. She was your best friend in the company.

“Yeah, thanks a lot y/n.”

One of the other girls said sarcastically. You didn’t pay it any mind, you would also be furious if someone made you stay two hours overtime when you already were on overtime. You grabbed your leg warmers.

“No worries, you know I got you.”

You comforted Maria, before you started walking towards the exit. You knew Mr. Park went to his office. It wasn’t your first time being scolded.

“Sit down.”

He said once you entered. He was already sitting behind his desk. You sat down opposite of him, leaning down to slide into your leg warmers.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Park.”

You started off with. Trying to sound as apologetic as possible. He sighed.

“Do you think I do this for fun, y/n?”

You got up from your crouched position and looked him in the eyes.

“No I don’t.”

He was one of the best ballet teachers and directors in the whole world. It was obviously an honour just to be able to dance for him. But you knew he had a soft spot for you for some reason. That’s why you were comfortable taking Maria’s place.

“I would much rather be at home as well, relaxing and eating a good meal. But there would be no Swan lake, and there would be no good ballerinas without me.”

He pulled his hand through his black hair in stress. It was slicked back like usual, but throughout the day a few strands had loosened.

“If everyone stopped practicing at five o’clock like scheduled, the premiere would be nothing but chaos. Do you understand that, y/n?”

You nodded. He looked you up and down for a second. Taking in your form. He slowly got up and walked towards you. He grabbed your chin harshly, making you look back up at him.

“I’ve been observing you for the last days, you truly are far too beautiful and talented to be just a swan.”

You raised your eyebrows at his sudden compliment.

“You’re prima ballerina material, for sure.”

His hand slid to the side of your face, cupping your jaw.

“Too bad I have to fire you.”

“What?!”

Your eyebrows crossed as you shook your head out of his grip. His hand went into his pocket, making him look surprisingly relaxed.

“The two of us, let alone the entire company, knows that this isn’t your first time being sent to my office.”

You looked at him in shock. You couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“If I don’t give you the consequences, it’s going to look suspicious.”

You shook your head. He was going to fire you just because something as simple as complaining?

“You can’t do that.”

“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”

He smirked again, before walking to stand right in front of you. You looked up and down his long body. Before looking back at him with your most innocent, but still sultry eyes.

“Please don’t fire me, Mr. Park. You wouldn’t do that to me would you?”

He cocked his head at your plea. Scanning you up and down yet again. He had a puzzled look on his face.

“Don’t test me.”

You grabbed his hand as you fell down to your knees. You knew he liked it when you begged. And since this was a life or death situation for your career, you didn’t mind being a little extra.

“I’ll do anything. Please just let me continue to dance for you. I’m nothing without you. I can’t- you can’t-”

You knew what buttons to push. His ego was too big to not take the bait.

“You’re right. It would be a shame to waste your potential.”

He lifted your head up again by your chin. A sudden sexual tension hit you, once you saw the outline of his bulge. You knew your actions had an effect on him, but not to that extent.

“It would be a shame to waste such a pretty face.”

You tried your best to look him in the eyes. It was hard to not shy away at a situation like that, even for you.

“Please, Mr. Park.”

He inhaled sharply, before he broke out in a smile.

“I forgive you, y/n. I can’t live with myself if I don’t give you another chance.”

You smiled up at him as well, preceding to get back up on your feet. But his arm found your shoulder and stopped you in your ascend.

“Wait.”

He warned you, and you quickly sat back down on your knees.

“I like seeing you like this, it’s not often you look so- submissive.”

Chills ran down your spine at his words. You definitely did not take that as a compliment. You were quite fiery, yes. And in any normal situation you would never let a man speak to you like he did. But the fear of losing your job, combined with the reverence you felt towards him, made you defy yourself.

“After this season I want you to take private lessons with me. Every Tuesday and Thursday.”

You nodded carefully, not looking up at him.

“Don’t look so down, darling. I’ll make you my next prima ballerina.”

“He said what?”

Maria half whispered in shock.

“Ms. Sanderson.”

Mrs. Petrova, your instructor, who was so old she probably was alive when swan lake was composed, hushed her. Maria looked at her before looking down at her moving feet. The company was warming up, standing in clean lines against the railing, moving to the rhythm of the slow classical music.

“Not only did he not fire you.”

She whispered once Mrs. Petrova was at the other end of the room.

“But he also said he would make you a prima ballerina?”

You nodded.

“Switch to third position!”

The two of you switched.

“Wow, you are so lucky. Mr. Park hasn’t had a prima ballerina in years.”

You smiled at her, and lifted you head higher when Mrs. Petrova walked by. You remained silent until you knew she was far enough away.

“I’m happy of course, it’s just- I don’t know. There’s something weird about him.”

“Yeah he’s like really cocky.”

She answered and held back a laugh.

“That too, but he’s just eerie. Like I don’t know if I want to spend so much time with him alone.”

“Ms. y/l/n! Would you like to share something with the company? Or do I have to send the two of you to Mr. Parks office?”

Mrs. Petrova suddenly bursted out. You locked eyes with Maria. Not knowing what to answer the old hag.

“We were just talking about-“

“Boys, just boys.”

You interrupted Maria. Not wanting her to say anything about you or Mr. Park. Mrs. Petrova gave the two of you a strict look, before the music started playing again.

“Please focus on your movements, not the opposite gender.”

She scolded before walking away from the two of you.

“And fourth position!”

“He just kept looking at me weirdly, and telling me that I’m beautiful and shit.”

You said as the two of you were walking down towards the cafeteria for lunch.

“Oh my god! He probably has a crush on you or something!”

Maria said a little bit too loud. You poked her in her side with your elbow.

“Please, keep it down.”

She started laughing, and you quickly followed. As you turned a corner you crashed into something. Or rather someone. A hand snuck around you waist, keeping you from falling. You looked up, finding the familiar brown eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Park. I didn’t see where I was going.”

He looked at you for a second, before smiling. He didn’t let go of your waist, and when you became aware of that you awkwardly stepped away from him.

“No harm done.”

He simply said and walked away. You looked over at Maria.

“I get it.”

She simply said as you started walking again.

“Right?”

You asked, looking back at her as she tried to keep up with you.

“What ever look he just gave you was not the look you give to someone you have a crush on.”

The season had ended, for a minute you felt relief. Knowing you had time off now to just relax before the next season. But as you read the message on your phone, you felt that relief fade away.

“Studio 5, next Thursday at 07.00 am. Don’t be late.”

You sighed, was this really what you wanted? Of course it was a dream come true to potential become Mr. Parks new prima ballerina. But you couldn’t help but feel weird about that time in his office. It seemed like he had other intentions in mind. Mr. Park was an attractive man yes, but he was way older than you and you didn’t want his attention in that way. He was your teacher, your mentor. Not a potential hook up. You didn’t see him in that way, and you hoped against all odds that he didn’t see you like that either.

What you didn’t know was that in that moment, outside on the dark street. He was there. Looking at you through your window. Watching your puzzled look at his text. He didn’t know his intentions fully yet either. But he did know they were not good.

“Higher.”

He simply said as he watch you dance to the music. It was your fifth lesson together, and everything was going well. You hadn’t seen the side of him that you saw when he proposed this idea. And you were enjoying yourself, getting these private lessons had really helped you improve. In the next second arabesque, you lifted your leg even higher. Showing him that you listened. But he still shut the music off. You stepped down from your tips, looking at him as he walked up to you.

“Turn around.”

He said once he reached you. And you did as instructed. You looked at him through the big mirrors.

“Do your second arabesque.”

You stood back up on your toes, and gracefully bent into a second arabesque.

“Look at yourself in the mirror.”

He said, and you did. You instinctively pushed your leg even further up, once you saw your own reflection.

“Now back to full position.”

You moved your face upwards again, looking away from the mirror. You felt his hands touch your waist. He straightened your back, before one of his hands went to your lifted leg.

“Look back at yourself.”

He almost whispered in your ear, now with one hand on your waist, and the other holding your leg higher than what you were comfortable with. You smiled once you saw yourself. Your arabesque looked different, more sophisticated.

“When you do your second arabesque, or any arabesque for that matter. Remember this. Straight back and high leg.”

He said in a low comforting tone once he saw your smile. You nodded, and stepped down from your tippy toes. He let go of your leg, but moved that hand to the other side of your waist.

“Think of me holding your waist, it’ll help you stabilise.”

He whispered now, you felt his warm breath on the back of your neck. You turned to look at him.

“Thank you.”

You muttered. His eyes immediately fell to your lips, and in a split second his lips were on yours. You were caught off guard, and didn’t respond at first. But once it dawned on you what was happening you quickly moved your face away from his. You felt his hands on your waist tighten.

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

You looked up at the mirror, wanting to see his reaction. He was looking you dead in the eye, with anger written all over his face. He leaned down to kiss your bare shoulder, still maintaining eye contact. Before he deeply whispered.

“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”

His hand moved up to your face as he turned to kiss you yet again. You pushed him away, and tried to make a run for it. But he snaked his arm around your chest.

“Let me go!”

You struggled against him, now scared of what would happen if you didn’t get away. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and you elbowed him as hard as you could in his side. His hand loosened and you ran. But not quick enough. He grabbed you by your arm and threw you into the big mirror. It was pure luck that it didn’t shatter. His body locked you in.

“Hush, I won’t hurt you.”

He said, and for a second you stopped fighting. You were out of breath, but still managed to give him a death glare.

“Let me go!”

You tried once again. He shook his head.

“Do you think I just give away free lessons? Don’t you think you need to repay me?”

You felt something hard against your abdomen. You wanted to cry, you didn’t know what to do. His face shifted once he saw your eyes watering.

“No, no. I’m not a rapist, y/n! God no. But if you want to be my prima ballerina. You have to get your priorities straight.”

You clung onto the little bit of relief you felt from his words.

“I’ve tried my best to stay away, y/n. I really have. But there’s just something about you.”

You felt his hips grind against yours.

“You make me fucking crazy. I can’t wait any longer. I need you.”

He let out a small moan at the friction. A tear fell down your face.

“Please, Mr. Park. Let me go.”

You sobbed. He hushed you again.

“I’ll let you go. Just listen to me.”

You took a deep breath, collecting yourself as much as you could.

“By next Thursday I want an answer. Either you show up or you don’t. Don’t be late.”

He pushed himself off the wall and gave you one last look before slowly walking out the studio. Leaving you alone in the big dance room. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

“I don’t know what to do, Maria. This is like a fucking nightmare!”

You said sobbing onto Marias lap as she comforted you. You called her the minute you got home, knowing that she already knew most of the backstory. She immediately came over to your place, wanting to be there for you in a situation like this. You were forever great full for having a friend like her.

“You have to report this. Surely the police could do something about him.”

She said in a calm voice, stroking your hair lightly. You sat up in your bed, wiping your tears away from your swollen face.

“Would they though?”

You asked defeated. Mr. Park was a rich and famous man. You wanted to believe Marias theory, but the hard sad truth was that you didn’t stand a chance against him. Especially with no proof.

“Either I don’t show up and give up my career or-“

You paused, collecting your thoughts.

“Or you give that bastard what he wants.”

Maria finished for you. Knowing exactly what you were thinking.

“Look, being Jimin Parks prima ballerina is huge. It really is, but- I don’t know, is it really worth it? Is it really worth loosing your dignity for a life of fame?”

She asked you with a worried face. You blinked away your tears, not wanting to cry anymore.

“What else would I do? I’ve been dancing my entire life, everything I’ve ever done has lead up to this moment. I can’t-“

You shook your head, not letting the emotions take control over you again.

“I have to show up, I have to talk some sense into him. I can’t give up now. I just can’t.”

You looked down at your hands in your lap as you felt a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You could go to college, get a degree, get a nine to five. Anything but this, please I can’t watch you go through with this. It’s not safe to see him again.”

You looked up at her again.

“And be a complete failure? Not only to my parents, to you, to the company, but also to myself. This is all I’ve ever dreamed of, Maria.”

“You won’t be a failure! You’re an amazing dancer, you have real talent. But it’s not worth it.”

You shook your head. You had already made up your mind.

“I’m sorry.”

You mumbled. Maria sighed and got up from the bed.

“You do you, girl. But you better not call me crying next Thursday. I won’t feel bad for you.”

She said before walking out your room. You were alone with this now. But like you told her, you couldn’t give up on your dream. No matter the cost.

Thursday. You were sweating. A lump had formed itself inside your stomach, and it was impossible to to ignore it. You took what felt like your last breath before you opened the door to the studio. He stood in the other end, hands crossed over his chest, with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“You’re late.”

His voice rang through the big room, leaving an echo. You stepped into the room, the door shutting behind you. Another echo filling the otherwise dead silent room. You didn’t walk towards him, you stayed by the door. The silence making the lump in your stomach grow even larger.

“What are you doing?”

He asked, still with a slight smirk.

“Come here, we have dancing to do.”

You didn’t know what to do. Your entire body was screaming for you to run out the door and never look back. But your brain didn’t let you move.

“Come over here, y/n. Right now!”

He said in a strict tone, once you didn’t listen. Your own feet moved against your own will, as you slowly started moving forward. You put your bag down on your way.

“Good girl.”

He said, barely audible. But you heard it. All your senses were sharpened. He watched you like a predator, as you can closer and closer. You stopped at a reasonable distance. Close enough to have a conversation with him, but still just out of reach.

“Why so gloomy? You’ve made the biggest decision in your life, baby.”

He stepped closer to you. Every single muscle in your body tensed as his hand met your face in a loving embrace.

“I’m going to make you a star.”

He whispered. You shook your head.

“I don’t want to have sex with you, Mr. Park.”

His smile faded at your words. You straightened your back, trying your best to seem confident and not afraid of the man standing in front of you.

“This is all I’ve ever dreamt of. It’s all I’ve ever worked for. But I refuse to think that this is the only way I can get what I want.”

You said as you tried to conceal the shaky breath escaping your mouth.

“Please, I don’t want to sleep my way to fame. I want to earn it. So tell me, do you see a true and genuine prima ballerina in me. Or am I just a piece of meat?”

He looked at you directly in your eyes. You didn’t break eye contact. You were not giving up, not yet. He broke out in laughter after a few seconds of staring into your soul.

“Oh, y/n. Please.”

He continued laughing, as if this whole thing was a joke. You stayed as serious as ever.

“This is what I like about you. You’re so stubborn, so strong. You don’t see that often around here.”

He turned serious in a split second.

“Why would I be lying to you? Huh? I can sleep with whoever I want. If I wanted just a one night stand I’d pick one of the other girls. Someone easier to manipulate.”

His hand slid around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“I’m a man of my word, y/n. I see potential in you, I wouldn’t just say that to anyone.”

His eyes flickered down to your lips. You instinctively turned your head away, opting to looking at the two of you in the mirror. He looked back at you in the reflection.

“I see my next prima ballerina.”

He said and pointed at the mirror.

“You’re not just beautiful and talented, you have a strong mind. You’re perfect.”

You sighed, looking back at him.

“Why would you waste it all?”

He asked and softly caressed your chin. Your gaze flicked down, wanting to look anywhere but him. He was right, why would you waste the opportunity to have everything you’ve ever wanted?

“It’s honestly a package deal. You get fame and fortune, and good sex. I don’t see what the problem is honestly.”

You looked back up at him again. Trying to conceal the ick you just got.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

His face turned into a devilish grin.

“Join me in my office.”

He hastily got rid of your bollero, throwing it onto the floor. The second you stepped into his office his lips were on yours. Your fate was sealed, there was no return now. He grabbed at your hips harshly, digging his fingers into you with desperation and lust. He lifted you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked over to his desk, leaving your lips for a moment to push whatever was on it onto the floor. It all hit the floor and made a loud crashing noise. He placed you onto the desk, continuing his heated attack of your lips.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long, baby.”

He said in between kisses. Working on your wrap around skirt and tights. You lifted yourself off the desk so he could slide your garments off. Leaving you in your underwear and tank top.

“You have no idea how crazy you’ve made me. How many sins I’ve done in your favour.”

His lips crashed back onto yours. You started thinking of your career as you heard him removing his belt. Preparing yourself for what was to come. He pushed your upper body down onto the desk, making your head dip over the edge of the desk. You looked at his office upside down, staring at the expensive painting hanging on the wall. You felt him sliding your underwear to the side.

“What a pretty pussy you have, baby.”

He said before sliding himself into you, making you moan as you felt yourself being filled up.

“Better than I ever imagined.”

He groaned as he started to slowly move. You continued to look at the painting of the ballerina with a bouquet in her hands bowing down in a gracious pose. Your hands found his forearms, digging your nails into his skin. Your breath got heavy as you felt his speed increase.

But still you focused on the ballerina. You imagined it was you. Maybe that would be you after this. Bowing deeply to the applause of hundreds, maybe even thousands of people in the audience. They all applauding you. You moaned loudly once he hit a good spot.

“You like that? You want it, huh?”

“Yes.”

You said in a shaky voice. You wanted this, you wanted this more than anything. This was all worth it in the end. You would be a star, a prima ballerina. Someone little girls looked up to, and adults wanted to be. You would be like that ballerina in the painting. Gracious and beautiful in every way. Everything you ever aspired to be. Everything you were meant to be.

“God, I’m gonna-“

You belonged here. On that desk. In that studio. Alone on a stage, bowing to the audience after the greatest performance of their lives. You were Mr. Park’s new prima ballerina.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

[seventeenytiny]

1:00am (Reposted Again)

I am so sorry for reposting again this but Tumblr is mad at me and I don’t think my post was showing up in tags so I am trying one last time :(

Smut: Minors DNI

Felix tries to help you relax after the two of you sneak out to the hot tub late at night

Contains: Smut, Minor DNI, Oral (female receiving), public sex

Word Count: 1769

Author’s Note: I’ve had this in my drafts for way too long because I was never happy with how it turned out. After much editing, I’m still not in love with it but screw it I gotta post it. Just use this as a guide and make it sound better in your head lol.

“Meet me by the hot tub at 1am,” Felix whispered as he passed by, his hand grazing your hip. His deep voice sends chills down your spine, anticipation of what the night holds has you buzzing.

When you agreed to rent a vacation cabin out in the woods with a group of friends, you didn’t realize it would lead to you and Felix hooking up. You wait patiently for night to fall and for friends to all go to their rooms. You change into your bikini, wrapping yourself in a cover-up to help keep you warm from the chilly night air. Once you see all the lights out and the sound of soft snores fill the cabin, you cautiously creep out, careful to not alert anyone of your whereabouts. The path to the hot tub is dark, but your eagerness helps you push forward. Letting the moonlight guide you, you see a shadowy figure standing near the tub, the figure’s long hair clearly indicating it’s Felix. As you approach, he runs his fingers through his locks, a smile that could light up the night appears on his face.

“I’m glad you decided to come,” He says, embracing you.

“Of course, I’d come for you.” You smile shyly at him.

“Well let’s not waste any time and get in.” He takes off his shirt, exposing his abs and leaving him in just his swim trunks. You freeze upon seeing his upper half, his thin yet toned body is more beautiful than you could have imagined.

“No need to be shy around me Y/N. Here, let me help you,” He reaches towards you to help remove your cover-up, his eyes scanning your body as the cloth falls to the ground. The crisp air causes goose bumps to cover your skin, consequently, your nipples noticeably harden. Felix licks his lips, clearly enjoying the view in front of him.

“So beautiful...” he mumbles to himself.

“What was that Lixie?”

Lixie? That was the first time he heard you call him that, the new nickname makes his heart flutter.

“Ah nothing... Let’s get you warmed up Y/N.” He takes your hand and leads you into the tub, watching you carefully to make sure you don’t slip. You sigh in relief as the warm water covers your chilled body. Felix follows in behind you, you take note of the slight bulge in his swim trunks. Once he’s seated he reaches over to you to pull you into his lap

“Come here baby girl, I’ll make sure you stay nice and warm.”

“You're too kind Felix,” you joke as you make yourself comfortable in his arms, trying to hide the blush on your face. Baby girl was a name you could get used to, especially if it was Felix calling you that.

You lean your head back against his shoulder, his arms wrapped around your torso, lightly grazing your underboob.

You both stay in that position for a bit, casually chatting about random topics and life in general. As the conversation continues you feel one of Felix’s hands slowly creep towards your core. You carry on with what you were saying, acting as if nothing is happening. You couldn’t reveal just how desperate you are for his touch just yet.

You readjust yourself on his lap, opening your legs slightly more for him, your ass feeling his very noticeable erection.

“How’s work been going for you baby girl? I know it was bothering you quite a bit last month.”

“Oh it still sucks, I feel like I can’t relax because I know how much I’ll have to do when I get back from this trip.”

“Is your boss still being a cunt?”

“The cuntiest.” You reply with an exasperated sign.

“That’s no good, why don’t I help you try to relax?” His hand moves to rest right on top of your crotch. Your body heats up with excitement, and you turn your head to bury it in the crook of his neck, placing a small kiss there.

“If you can actually take my mind off work, I will owe you forever.”

“Hmm... Do I have your consent?”

You look at his face with glassy eyes, “Yes, I trust you, Felix.”

He smirks, “Here’s what I want you to do, I want to sit up on the ledge right here.”

Curious of what he has in mind, you oblige, your brain too foggy with lust to overthink it. He helps lift you up to the edge, making sure you’re comfortable. The steam rising from the tub helps keep you warm.

He stands back and gently spreads your legs apart, the fabric of your bikini clinging to your folds, perfectly outlining your pussy.

“Wow,” he mumbles, his eyes now dark with want. He lowers his face to be eye level with your pussy, you can feel his warm breath on it.

“Y/N, are you ready to relax?”

“Felix, if you’re going to eat me out, I have to be honest, no guy has ever made me cum from oral.”

He chuckles “As cheesy as it sounds, I promise I’m not like the other guys, give me a chance please.”

“Please prove me wrong.”

And with those words, he starts to go to work. He starts by placing kisses on your clothed slit, the warmth from his mouth lingers every time he pulls away. You lean back on the ledge, eyes closed as you focus on all the sensations. He pulls your bikini bottoms to the side, giving you a long lick against your folds. He places more kisses on you, teasing you with slow delicate motions.

You’re quick to be desperate for more, you put your hands in his hair and pull him closer to your core.

“So needy already...” He tsks. “Why don’t you take your bottoms off for me so I can properly touch you.”

You nearly jump out of your bottoms, not wanting to waste any time with his mouth not on your pussy.

He readjusts himself, placing kisses on your inner thigh before stopping right at your entrance, “Is this what you want? Do you want me to kiss right here?”

“Please Felix,” you beg, pulling his head towards you.

“Whatever you want baby girl.”

He kisses your slit before attaching his mouth to your clit and gently sucking on it. You throw your head back in pleasure, his mouth finally reliving the pressure that’s been building up down there.

He continues to suck on your sensitive bundle of nerves, slowly getting more aggressive with his technique. He then slides a finger into your pussy, your warm walls immediately sucking him in. You’re so slick with arousal that his finger slides in and out with ease, you can hear the wet sound of your pussy over his slurping.

“Oh so good Lixie, don’t ever stop...” you moan out. He adds a second finger into you, scissoring his fingers to stretch you out. He has everything down to a perfect science, the timing of his fingers with the timing of his tongue over your clit is impeccable.

He starts to slow down his thrusts with his fingers, you groan as he pulls them out of you, disliking the empty feeling. He removes his mouth from you so he can lick his fingers clean.

“You taste so fucking amazing Y/N, I need more.”

He drives right back in, eating you out like his life depends on it.

Your hands pull his hair and your thighs tighten around his head. The amount of pleasure he receives from your thighs nearly suffocating him is unimaginable. You use the grip you have in his hair to pull his face even closer to your body, his nose pressing up against your clit. You grind against his face as he licks and sucks on you. He lets out deep moans as you practically ride his face, sending vibrations straight to your core.

“Lixie... I think I might actually cum,” you pant out, sweat covering your brow.

He only responds by moaning back into your pussy, his hands gripping your thighs hard.

You can feel it, that precious build-up within your lower half, you can feel your high almost there. You’re so damn close.

He puts his two fingers back in, the feeling of fullness is what brings you to your high. You twist and pull at his locks as your eyes squeeze tight. Your whole body shakes with pleasure and your thighs wrap even harder around his head. You feel like your breath is being squeezed from your lungs as you moan out, welcoming the best orgasm of your whole life. Felix never stops for a second, determined to help you ride out your orgasm for as long as possible. Your arousal runs down his face, coating his chin, he struggles to keep up with all the juices flowing out of you.

Once he feels the grip on his hair loosen and your thighs relax he starts to let up.

“Felix... I’m too sensitive...”

“Just 30 more seconds, you taste too good for me to let anything go to waste.”

He cleans you up with his tongue, and his hands rub your thighs as they shake from the sensitivity. He pulls away finally and you can see his face once again. His lips are puffy and covered with your wetness. You pull him out of the water to kiss his lips, enjoying the lingering taste of your pussy.

“I’m sorry I doubted you Felix, that was honestly the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

His smile takes up half his face hearing that, “Come on Y/N I think you’re exaggerating.” He wipes his face with the back of his hand before carefully helping you put your bikini bottoms back on. He grabs your waist and pulls you back down into the water with him. The warmth of the water along with your orgasm has you feeling weightless, Felix holds you up against his chest as you let your feet float up.

“How are you feeling Y/N?”

“There’s not a thing I could care about right now.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

“Oh but what about you, you didn’t cum.” You start to reach towards the waistband of his shorts but he stops you.

“Don’t worry about me, tonight is about you. Anyways, you said if I made you relax you would owe me forever. So... did I make you relax?”

You place a playful kiss on his cheek, “How about you meet me back here tomorrow at the same time and I’ll make it up to you.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

[show-your-fangs]

omg omg omg can I pls request hotch genuinely being the most clueless, dumb-and-in-love individual?

Basically the team has to point it out to him for him to see how soft he is for reader and how differently he treats them 💗😩 he’s in love, your honour 🤭

i love our stupid man in love, he's so cute i can't.

this is part two of this blurb from my moments au

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 1.7k

CW: nothing, just fluff.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

He didn’t ask you out that night. Neither Morgan or Rossi won the bet, the unfortunate draw making them only want to try harder to win over the other.

That had been a week ago, the pool only growing as more agents got in on it and it had somehow gotten out of hand really quickly. Penelope had been tasked with keeping track of the bets, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her mouth shut about it, especially when she was around you. 

The team had left for a case earlier in the week which meant you were spending a lot of time with her. From helping with research, running point from the office, making calls and setting up permits, warrants, everything and anything they needed, you were practically tied at the hip as per usual when the team was away. The only problem? Penelope Garcia could not keep a secret to save her life, and the more time she spent with you, the more she almost slipped and told you what was going on.

You had closed the case earlier that night after five days of grueling work. You were exhausted, more so emotionally than physically, so you’d invited Penelope to dinner as way to celebrate the little victory. But what had started as a simple night out had quickly turned wild as the waiter had taken a liking to her and kept the cocktails coming throughout your entire meal. You were on dessert, a forgettable chocolate lava cake with ice cream when she finally slipped.

“I just think it’s so silly,” she giggled in between sips of her drink and scoops of dessert. 

“What’s silly?” you egged her on, whatever this secret was had eluded you for the entire week and you just needed to know. 

“How much Hotch likes you,” her cheeks flushed pink but her brain didn’t realize what’d she’d admitted to yet, allowing her to continue. “The team has a bet going on when he’s going to ask you out and everything.” 

“Huh,” you mused. “That is silly.”

That’s when her brain snapped, dread and realization washing over her all at once. Her eyes widened, her spoon fell from her hand and onto the plate. 

“Oh my gosh, do you not like Hotch back? I could’ve sworn— I am mortified! Forget I told you, please I am begging you—”

You reached over and placed your hand over hers, gently soothing her out of her panic as a mischievous smile curled on your lips. 

“Can you get me on the board, Pen?”

Apparently they were all convinced it wasn’t happening for a while. They had decided to overcorrect their previous assumptions, placing bets that were days if not weeks in the future. Penelope had added you to the bet list that same night, promising to keep the secret until the next morning. 

You knew the clock was ticking, knew that once you started the countdown, you had no business losing your courage. It was now or never, and the reminder that soon the rest of the team would be shuffling into the bullpen to start their day, that they’d know someone else had made a risky bet — it only got your adrenaline pumping even more. 

You poured his coffee as you watched him enter the office, gaze on his phone, powerful and confident strides leading him towards his office. He turned and waved from the top of the stairs once he finally noticed you, a small smile on his lips. You smiled back, your cheeks reddening slightly as you finished getting your own coffee in order, the pale tan a contrast to his straight black. 

You made your way to his office a minute after he’d settled, placing his cup on his desk and taking a seat across from him. This had been your routine for months now, you’d bring him his coffee in the morning and the two of you would fill each other in on your lives. 

Aaron had been dealing with his divorce, the guilt of having to split Jack’s time between him and his mom, the added stress of finding a new place and moving, of finding himself alone when he’d been used to always having someone to come home to after a tough case. And you? You had just started going to therapy after he’d encouraged you to. It had been a rocky adjustment to the job, and you were glad that you could confide in him as your boss but also as your friend. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, pulling out the case files he’d taken back home the night before. 

You shot him a look, the look, and he couldn’t help but sigh deeply. You weren’t angry, you were simply disappointed, and he knew that. It had been hard, harder now that he had to force himself back out there if he wanted to actually have a life. But even after months of this new normal, the idea of dating made him even more exhausted than he’d like to admit. 

Because while Morgan or Emily thrived meeting new people, Aaron had met Haley in high school. He’d been with one woman his entire life, one woman for more than twenty years. He was rusty to say the least, the insecurity of it only growing the more he refused to take the leap, the more he refused to feel his feelings, the more he fell in love with you. 

“Haley had Jack last night—” he started but you were quick to interrupt him. 

“That’s a terrible excuse,” you chided. “There’s a million things you could’ve done instead.”

“Oh yeah?” the mischief was back in his eyes, making you gulp visibly. “What did you do last night?”

Your mouth opened in mock annoyance, he couldn’t possibly know—

“For your information, sir,” you mocked. “I went out with Penelope last night.” 

Whatever glimmer of hope Aaron had cultivated to tease you about taking work back home was extinguished in a second. He sat back in his chair, inaudibly admitting defeat. 

“Maybe that’s what you need too,” you started, your heart racing once more. His eyebrows shot up and you could tell his blood had also gotten to his head. “Ask someone out, go on a date, get laid.”

That caught him off guard completely. If he had been sipping on his coffee he would’ve choked, made an even bigger fool of himself. But instead his cheeks just reddened, his ears quickly following suit, a detail he knew you knew about him as you’d pointed it out many times in the past.

But you didn’t today, you didn’t say anything about his reaction but he was too hot to notice it right away.

“It’s what I have to do too, honestly,” you shrugged, faux confidence somehow allowing you to not combust right then and there. 

“Do you now?” he managed through gritted teeth, the idea of you dating something that he made sure never to think about because it always led him down a dark path of rage and an ungodly desire to ravage you to the point where you belonged to him and no one else. 

“Yeah,” you drawled on, almost sighing dramatically. That’s when he caught on, when his brain finally reconnected to his body and his heart only sped up even more. “But I don’t know…I’m not really into any of the guys Penelope or Emily have tried to set me up with, they’re not really my type.”

God, this was not actually happening. “What is your type?”

“Crime fighting single dads who adore their kids and participate in triathlons for fun,” there was no misinterpreting it now. 

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” the words flew out of his mouth before either of you could register them. 

A bright smile took over your lips, your eyes sparkling with happiness. A shy smile slowly started to turn adorably embarrassed on his, his gaze tentatively raising to meet yours, eyebrows raised almost pleading, his eyes round and hopeful. 

“I would love to,” you said and he graced you with the most beautiful full smile you’d ever seen from him. It was unrestricted, genuine, life giving. 

“Great,” he cleared his throat as the clock struck eight, the reality of the world outside of your little office bubble a reminder of where you were. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Can’t wait,” you reassured him, standing up with your own untouched coffee mug and making your way downstairs. “Oh, and it’s my treat. Trust me.”

You were gone before he could argue, but you knew that he couldn’t stop smiling, the warmth radiating from him was enough for you know it deep in your bones.

“Babygirl,” Morgan asked aloud, holding up the list of bets that Penelope had left on his desk earlier as the blonde returned to the bullpen from her office. “What’s this?”

He tapped on the bet you’d written down, the other agents gathering to inspect the new addition.  

“Proof of my victory, Derek,” you said cockily as Penelope handed you the envelope full of cash. 

The entire team turned to you, eyes wide and anger slowly boiling. But none of them let it out, instead they all looked impressed, they respected the move, the hustle, the boldness. Morgan scoffed in proud defeat as he held out his fist for you to bump, and you did, excitedly.  

It had finally happened, the start of something that had been brewing for months, and you couldn’t be happier. While the girls walked up to you to get all the details you shot Aaron a cheeky glance as Penelope filled Emily and JJ in on your conversation the night before, and for the first time ever, Aaron allowed himself to meet your glance, unashamed to be caught staring at you. 

i've been smiling like an idiot all day

taglist: @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @cr1minalskies, @xladyxdreamer, @mrs-ssa-hotch

[neppttune]

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐃 | toji f

𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐌 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐃

↳ ⭒—warnings: nsfw, addiction, bit of angst, toxic relationship(ish), reader feels used, size kink, praise, teasing, creampie, reader has female anatomy, babytrapping if u squint, breeding kink, mentions of infidelity

↳ ⭒—synopsis: tojis addiction feeds the toxicity in your relationship

toji who is absolutely in love with your pussy, the pretty flesh on the outside and god- the soft, warm flesh on the inside as well. constant praises of

"ah- y-you feel soo fuckin good doll... keep squeezing me like that i might have to- fuuckkk, make you a mommy... yer fucking sopping,, gettin it all over the sheets too, 's so pretty..."

with clear desperation in his voice at the best feeling in the world.

toji who always kept your sex life interesting when you two would suggest ideas and play around with them, him being the one with many many ideas already thought out about you

toji who leads you to believe that hes whipped, but when it becomes a constant thing to have multiple rounds of sex, even asking at the worst times, is when you ask him if he's serious about your relationship.

toji who has been and always will be all in, even when his fantasies and need of your touch continuously go off in his head. whether its grocery shopping, out on a job, or having a serious conversation with you. its a constant need for the hot pleasure only you can give him.

toji who seems incredibly shallow to your friends when he only ever really wants to have sex, or have his hands on your ass or lower stomach, even trying to justify it while simultaneously ignoring the voice telling him somethings wrong and his compulsive actions aren't normal.

toji who goes to the point of convincing you to have sex in a public restroom at a restaurant or park, because "we have a few minutes, babydoll, cmon"

toji who when you decide you need a break from, due to him destroying the relationship, masturbates until it hurts thinking about you but unable to get off. he even tried chatrooms, pictures, and videos (some of you from his ideas he just needed to try).

toji who you love and ultimately buckle for, in a dramatic moment of crying and explaining your feeling to him. how everything is in-genuine when he suddenly needs to have sex, how everything to consumed by sex, and almost pressuring you into giving him what he wants. all you get to this is a tight hug and

"cmon baby, you know I love you... 's been a week lemme make you feel good, please, 'can make it better"

toji who wonders: does it make me bad?

a/n: finished at 3:56 am LMAOO enjoy

©neppttune

all rights reserved

do not plagiarize, repost, modify, or translate my work without written consent.

[etherealily]

𝕓𝕦𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕤 // 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝗱𝗮𝗶𝗿.

Finnick Odair + fem!reader, brother's best friend (ahhh!), you don't get it, i love this man

Warning: Cuss words .

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : Finnick makes quite an impression.

══════════════════ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ══════════════════

"Hey, what's up, man, if you could just pack up- oh."

You don't even have to turn to know just who in the hell was standing in front of the window of your family's bakery. And this is the one day you decide not to care about how frosting-splattered your apron is, how flour-smeared your hands are. So your brother wasn't lying. He really was all buddy-buddy with Finnick fucking Odair. And this was the one Thursday you decide to actually fill in for him.

"Uh, be right out, sir."

Sir? Sir? Did you really just call him Sir? Well, I mean, yeah, he's a customer, but still... sir? That's too fake. He's going to wig out, he's going to-

"Of course. Take your time. I'm in no rush."

-Be uncharacteristically patient. Hm. Weird. Odd.

Quickly patting off the flour on your hands and watching the flakes fall onto the counter, you wipe your palms roughly on your apron, turning around.

His eyes are fucking ethereal. It's everything you can do to not immediately think of how you would go about replicating the sea-green of them into a frosting colour, or something. However, you decide, it'd be very hard, seeing as there were a kaleidoscope of other hues in there, a tinge of gold, here and there, like flecks of stardust, for one.

The muscles at the front of his arms - across his chest, as he stands - clench, as though he's tightening them. And then you realise : he's waiting.

"So sorry for the wait. How can I help you?"

"Who are you?"

What ?

"Excuse me?"

"Not interrogating you.", he informs you, raising a hand to cut you short. The fucking audacity . "Never seen you before."

"Well, you're seeing me now."

"How do I know you're not just someone stealing from the store?", he inquires, in mock concern. His eyebrows raise just slightly, playfully, even, as he trains his eyes on yours.

Does he also think about how he can replicate the colours in other people's eyes, or is he normal?

"Uh, I've got a key , for one.", you retort, jiggling the keys that you've shoved deep into your apron's pocket.

He shrugs, interlocking his fingers tightly as he cracks his knuckles, tilting his head. "Could be stolen."

"I'm the owner's daughter, Y/N ?"

"Insufficient proof of that.", he shoots back, teeth grazing ever so slightly on his bottom lip as he battles a smirk. "C'mon, do better than that. I'm this close to calling the Peacekeepers, y'know?"

"I can bake a cake?", you suggest, unsure why you're even going along with this.

Oh right, because he's Finnick Odair.

"So can I.", he replies, now resting his elbow down on the windowsill of that godforsaken window your family sold their goods from. You'd always thought it was cute, but now, with the lack of a counter between the two of you, like the normal bakeries, you were resenting the idea. "You're not really selling your identity, you know?"

"I'm literally baking a cake right now.", you exclaim, pointing at your clothes and the oven in which a hopefully delicious cake was rising. "What kind of pathetic thief would help the store they're stealing from?"

"You could be trying to blend in."

"Okay, look, I don't care what you think, Sir. I'm the owner of this place, so you either get your goods or go."

"Good.", he chuckles, softly, although his tone turns slightly, seamlessly more serious. "That's good. That's the response you give, you got that?"

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What?"

"If someone ever makes you doubt who you are, if someone ever...", he swallows, licking his lips for a moment, looking away before continuing, "... ever forces an identity on you. I don't care what you think, I know who I am . That's what you say."

"You came all the way here, did all that, just to... teach me a life lesson?"

"You don't like it? Come on, that was a cool segue, you gotta admit.", he asks, clearly shoving whatever else he was feeling into the back burner as he snickers.

"Threatening to call the Peacekeepers on me? Oh, yeah, that's very cool ."

"Hey, I managed to get your name, didn't I? Doubt you'd have let me get that far any other way."

Not true. You'd have given him your name. Hell, you'd have given up your last name for him, had he asked normally.

"And what do you need my name for?"

"I don't know.", he shrugs, palpably pushing any dirty responses he might've had away. "Maybe I just want to know?"

"You must have a reason."

"You know what, yeah, usually, I have a reason for everything.", he replies, giving you the charming smile you've seen on television almost a thousand times. "But this time, I don't."

That was so infuriatingly expected. Of course Finnick Odair couldn't have just fucking asked for your name like a normal person.

"Do you at least have a reason as to why you're at my store?"

"Your family's store, sweetie, and yeah, I do.", he says, pointing at a tray of half-a-dozen shimmery blue cupcakes with the number '4' frosted boastfully onto them. "Pack those up for me, will you? My order."

"Insufficient proof of that.", you reply, crossing your arms and mirroring his position from when he'd said those words. "Unless you've got a receipt, which we don't give to urgent orders so there's no chance you could have one , I don't see how you're walking away from here with them."

He laughs, heartily, nodding as though impressed. "Funny. Look, let's not make this more complicated than it should be, yeah? You're a pissed off, whiny little girl who can't take a joke, and I'm Finnick Odair. Just give me the cupcakes."

You scoff, audibly scoff at that. The nerve of him. "I'm not a little girl."

"Your brother tells me you cry when you see butterflies? Like... full-on bawl?"

You'd fucking murder your brother the next time you saw him, that was for sure.

"They're ethereal, and very rare."

"They're insects.", he reasons, shaking his head as he rests his head on his palm, tilting his head and gazing at you condescendingly, like you really were a child.

"Shut up."

He snorts, softly. "Give me the damn cupcakes, sweetie."

"Or what, you'll seduce me into giving them to you?"

His face falls, for a moment, his grin faltering. Then, with a sigh that was an infuriating mix of amused, disappointed and enigmatic, he nods. "That's what I'm known for, right? I could do it, you know? Really effectively, too."

"That wouldn't work on me."

"Give me the damn cupcakes, Y/N."

"How do I know you've paid for them?"

"You'll have to take my word for it. It's called trust, ever heard of it?"

"It's called not being a pompous asshole, ever heard of it?"

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you turn your back to him, bringing the tray over to the window sill. "Brought your own bag?"

He nods, a slightly triumphant smile - that you choose to ignore, thank you very much - on his face as he hands it to you, then nodding to the bag. "It's all the rage in the Capitol, you know?"

"Oh, I know. I see the Capitol freaks with it all the time on TV.", you mutter, gently bringing out each cupcake and placing them in each indent in the box you'd brought out. "Any embellishments you want before I put them in the bag?"

"Like a bow or something?"

"Yeah, like a bow, a card, some extra sprinkles taped to the box.", you shrug, feigning nonchalance. The urge to draw him was getting way too strong, and it was the most peculiar feeling ever - one you'd never felt before. Capturing him, in a way the cameras he was always swarmed by never could, that would be perfect.

"Yeah, card would be nice."

"What would you like on it?", you ask, sliding a card over from the cardboard box overflowing with them, as you click open a pen.

He raises a brow. "Do you have good handwriting?"

You tsk, shoving the pen in his face. "Here, you do it, then."

He giggles, mischief swirling in his eyes as he takes the pen from you. "Probably best." He clears his throat, dramatically, giving you a matter-of-fact look before he begins writing. "Dear President Snow, wishing you a Happy Reaping Day, with a delicacy from District Four- uh, what do you call these, sweetie?"

"Cupcakes?"

"Something cooler." He narrows his eyes at you, tapping the pen on the counter.

"Cupcakes from the Bakery Around The Corner? Seriously, this is District Four, we're not the Capitol - we don't have fancy icing and a quirky little name for each of our orders."

"Yeah, but he does this thing where each year, you have to bring a new delicacy from your District.", he mutters, a slight scoff present in his voice. "Reaping Day special. So I need a cool name."

Interesting. That almost sounded like resentment, from the Golden Boy to the President.

"I'm flattered you consider my cupcakes delicacies."

"Okay, look, your cupcakes are good, delicious, even, but they're not delicacies.", he reminds, keeping the stream of insults you were throwing at each other going. "I just need to give him something other than seafood this year, apparently."

"Well, that's stupid. We're the fishing district."

"Like he gives a flying fuck. What Coriolanus Snow wants, Coriolanus Snow gets."

You snort, covering your mouth. "That's his name?"

"What, did you think it was President ?", he asks, still not looking up from the card as he spins the pen around between his fingers - both calloused and delicate, preserved and wild.

"No, I thought it'd be something more normal."

He tsks. "Seriously, come up with a name for these things."

"They're for you , so call them Odairs, or something, I don't know. Should stroke your ego, too, so it's a win-win."

"These are supposed to be delicacies. Like, a form of pride among our people. I can't name them after me, no matter how awesome that would be.", he adds, with a slight grin.

"Whores from District Four.", you chuckle, shaking your head. "Call them that."

"Why, 'cause I'm the 'Whore from Four' ?", he asks, smirking. "That's a no-no word, you know?"

"Yeah, well, my patience is thinning with you, Odair."

He snickers, softly, chewing the inside of his cheek, still staring at the card. "You know what, fuck it. Whores it is."

"Really? Just go with no card."

He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No, a card is expected.", he sighs, spinning the pen around. "I should just call them whores. But, you know, spelt with an 'h'. What's he gonna do, ask around the District 4 marketplace for 'hores'?"

You laugh. "Hey, if that works...", you salute him, nodding. He writes with soft, almost enchanting strokes, and then signs his name.

"Thanks, Y/N.", he adds, after you finish taping the note precisely to the centre of the box's lid, before gently lowering it into his Capitol bag. "If this works, I'm paying you extra."

"If President Snow comes around asking for my District-famous 'hores', I'll pay you extra."

══════════════════ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ══════════════════

The muffled rush of the waterfall, and the feathery tufts of grass you were laying on almost help you enjoy life , for once, and help you forget that Reaping Day is tomorrow. Almost.

"You know you're not supposed to be out here, right, sugar?"

And then suddenly, the 4 o'clock sun isn't the thing that's blinding your senses.

It's him, instead.

Towering over you, almost gleaming hair threatening to spill over and disrupt the calm in the pool of his eyes, he tilts his head mockingly.

"I know."

He gapes in mock scandal. "Aren't you the little rebel?", he muses, raising a brow in amusement before offering you his hand.

You grab it, and he hauls you up with admirable ease. "Your cupcakes were a hit, sweetie. Absolute hit.", he informs, with the twinkly grin that comes with being Finnick Odair.

His mildly calloused hand still grips yours tightly.

"I see. You're welcome."

He shrugs, nodding. "Yeah, I suppose you deserve the thanks."

The silence sweeps past you, the only sounds embossed in both of your hushed breaths, in the gentle songs of birds, the faint roar of the waterfall, and suddenly, his voice, smooth as a wave embracing the shore.

"Come on."

"Where?"

"Trust me."

When Finnick Odair asks you to trust him, you do. Rule number one of the rule book of... well, life.

"If you take me to some Capitol party-"

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I promise, the last place I'm ever taking you is the Capitol. In fact, it can be said I'm doing the exact opposite."

You raise a brow. "What, you're taking me in the opposite direction? As far away from the Capitol as possible?"

His eyes dart around, above, behind and beside you, before they finally land on yours, and he nods, slowly, hesitantly. "Yeah, exactly.", he muses, his words drawn out as if he was unsure of them, too.

Bad sign.

"You're taking me out the borders?", you hiss, lowering your voice and glaring sharply at him. "That's illegal, Golden Boy."

"Don't call me that. Not here, in District 4."

You scoff. The audacity running through his veins was insufferable. "I'll call you whatever I damn want to. You trying to get me killed or turned into an Avox?"

"I'm trying to show you something!", he snaps, using his tense grasp on your hand to draw you closer, so that your foreheads were borderline touching. See, this was bad, this was bad, this was-

"Just let me!", he continues, his voice almost pleading. "You think I don't know it's Reaping Day tomorrow? That you could get picked to go die in the Games?"

"No, you're just the one helping us go die."

"You shut up.", he hisses, a finger in your face. "Don't say things you know nothing about. I'm a mentor."

"Did you even try with the tributes from last year? Or the year before that? Because I heard that-"

"What you heard is fucking-", he cuts himself short, taking a deep breath. "Please. Just follow me. For the love of God.", he orders, gently tugging you along.

Not like you even wanted to pull away - this was Finnick Odair.

"What is it you love most about District 4?"

"What?"

"District 4. What is it you love most about it?"

"It's home.", you shrug. "What else is there?"

"Yeah, but I mean, with time, any place is home. Have you never wanted to leave, to explore?"

It's times like these you realize your parents' bakery isn't that important- you'd sell the whole thing to figure out what was going on in that angelic head of his. His words lilting through your senses like sea-breeze.

"I'm exploring as much as I can right now."

He pauses for a moment, turning around. Dimples. "I'm glad I can be your guide, then."

Shut the fuck up, freak of nature. Stop with your beautiful words.

You almost say that. You don't, though.

"Okay, can you jump for me?"

"Jump?", you ask, looking over his shoulder at the huge gap between the part of the rock you were on, and the one you were supposed to go to. "No way."

"Come on, you can do it.", he says, leaping over the humongous gap as if he were playing hopscotch. "I'll catch you."

That's not the part you're worried about. The part you're worried about is you chickening out in front of the Finnick Odair. The interviews he would go through.

'Oh, yes, Hunger Games or not, tragic deaths have always been part of my everyday. Just the other week, a girl I knew slipped near a waterfall and plummeted to her death. Tragic. But I got over it because I'm Finnick Odair. I'm hot. And rich. And did I mention, hot?'

The entire nation wouldn't mourn you. It'd mourn the fact that poor Darling Finnick Odair had to watch you die.

"I don't know about this, Odair."

"Trust me."

That's the second time this man had asked you to trust him tonight. Rule of life.

"I swear, it'll be worth it. Take a leap of faith. Literally."

You grimace, pursing your lips. Your eyes move-

"Don't!", he yells, suddenly, waving his hand from across the abyss so your eyes land on it. "DON'T look down. Just look at me. Leap to me."

Reach for his eyes. Those pools of moss green and cerulean blue that make you want to embrace and destroy the planet for being able to create something so perfect.

It takes a couple of seconds for you to convince yourself he'll catch you. It's an excuse to look at his muscles, yeah, but still, he's strong enough. He'll catch you.

I won't die in front of Finnick Odair.

And you leap.

Instantly, your feet slip on the wet rock on the other side, and you grip onto Finnick's shoulders as he wraps his arms around you.

"Toldja."

"Shut up. I almost died."

"So dramatic.", he chuckles, gently letting go of you as he leads you further behind the waterfall, the tufts of grass on which you lay now faintly visible through the gushing water between you and them.

"There's a tiny cave kind of thing here. Look."

You squint, kneeling down in front of the entrance.

"Don't be shy. Come in."

You crouch down, taking his hand as he leads you further into the cave, walking gingerly until you see a tiny pool, illuminated by a golden ray of sunlight spilling through from a crack in the stone above.

Good god.

And around it, as though crafted for you, placed for your perusal, were hordes of glass-blue butterflies, fragile, delicate, and oh-so-ethereal, twirling around each other, bathed in all directions by the beam of light, which flowed through their transparent wings.

Finnick Odair, marry me.

"So?", he asks, breath gently brushing your ear. "What do you think?" The eagerness in his eyes was obvious, as though he were a child showing you the scribbles he'd just made.

"I..."

"I thought, y'know, I mean, I get excited about the ocean, so there's no reason for you not to get excited about butterflies."

"How did you find this place?", you ask, breathless.

"That's a secret."

Your eyes are transfixed onto the flapping of wings, the distribution of gold, the surreality of it all. It's almost godly. It's so breathtaking, you genuinely need to sit down. He sits with you.

"Are you scared for tomorrow?"

"That's a secret."

He smiles, softly, though the sadness in his expression is palpable and inevitable. It irks you. The way he is supposed to be, according to you, is spinning around the shoreline, laughing as he dances with the waves, sand on his hands and knees, a tan kissing his skin. That's how he must remain, and that is how you will draw him, if you ever get to.

After a tiny while, though, he leans back, against the rock behind him, eyes still trained on your awe as you watch the butterflies glide around blissfully, before looking out, at the curtain of water flowing and concealing the entrance of this little slice of paradise he'd found for you.

"You know, you could just stay here till tomorrow. You don't even have to go to Reaping Day."

"Oh, yeah, because that's smart. I'll be arrested."

"Then just don't go back."

"Leave my family to get punished?"

"Please tell me you didn't need tesserae."

"Well, before you, barely anyone from our District won, and if they did, they most definitely didn't share."

He groans, running his hands over his face. "So it's not even a fair chance."

You shake your head. "It's fine, though." Has been for five years.

He scoffs, borderline laughing at you, derisively. "Please elaborate."

"If you managed to find the one tiny place on earth where butterflies still thrive, and it happened to be here, by the waterfall I spent my whole life admiring, then, there's a chance I won't be reaped."

"You're extraordinary. Genuinely. Phenomenal. Splendid. Fabulous. Amazing." Was that awe in his voice? Awe at... you? What you just said?

"Are you buttering me up because I might be picked to die tomorrow?"

"I'm buttering you up because you're incredible."

Drawing him isn't enough.

Sonnets, prose, stories, love songs, ballads.

Those would be enough.

"If I get reaped, you better mentor me good."

"If you get reaped, you'll win. I'll get you sponsors, I'll train you so that you'll be an absolute force to reckon with."

The promises are beautiful and fragile and absolutely ludicrous. But that would be the name of his biography.

"If I survive, we're coming here every day."

It's like you've already resigned yourself to the fact that you were going to get chosen.

"You're a Career. You'll be fine."

"Who are you trying to convince?"

Silence suddenly enters the cave.

"We should go."

Both of you say it, both of you agree, and both of you get up.

"Thank you, Finnick."

His name tastes oddly sweet coming out of your mouth. However, the next moment shows that his lips taste even sweeter.

His fucking dimples.

"C'mon. I think this time, leaping will be easier."

What he means by that, you don't know.

Not like you want to, not immediately. Spending your whole life trying to figure him out seemed like a solid career plan.

You leap again.

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Amnesia

Prompt: You experience some retrograde amnesia after you and Luke are in a car accident. 

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: car accident, trauma, blood mention

A/N: continuing to repost these :)

The first thing that you notice when you wake up is that your head is throbbing. The pain is worse than that time you and Penelope decided to go bar hopping all night when you were visiting Emily in London. It had taken two whole days for the three of you to recover.  Judging by the way you feel right now, you think it might take a whole lot longer than that to get over whatever you had been up to the night before. 

It takes a moment, but soon, you start to realize that this pain felt like much more than just a bad hangover. Your entire body aches, and when you try to touch the spot on your head that really stung, a sharp pain shoots up your entire right arm, making your eyes open slowly in response. 

Slowly, you take in the room around you, including the IV attached to your arm and the sterile, white walls. Your mouth feels dry, and your body is still in a bed that feels so much different than yours at home. 

When you feel someone touching your arm, you turn your head.

“Rossi..?” You see your coworker looking at you with worry in his eyes and tears that are threatening to spill down his cheeks. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe now.”

You don’t know what he’s talking about. Disoriented and confused, your heart starts racing. The beeping from the heart monitor suddenly increases and Rossi quickly scoots forward on the edge of his seat, squeezing your hand and telling you to calm down.   

“What happened?” you ask, your voice shaky and scared. “Why am I here?”

You’re almost afraid to know the answer. 

“You guys were in an accident, in the SUV. It’s okay, you’re okay, and he’s going to be fine…everyone’s alright now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, and try to take some time to process things…an accident… in the SUV. Derek was always the one who insisted on driving. 

“Oh my god…how’s Derek?”

There’s a strange look that flashes across Rossi’s face that you can’t quite read before he gives you an uneasy and forced smile, “He’s fine, everyone’s fine. He’s at home.”

“Oh,” you sigh a breath of relief. “So he wasn’t in the accident with me?”

“No…” Rossi’s voice trails off and his tone indicates that there’s something he’s not telling you.

But you don’t dwell on it. Instead, you think to yourself, Morgan’s okay. He’s fine. And I’m… you look down to your own body and see no visible casts or slings. I’m okay. We’re okay. 

What you didn’t see was the worried look in Rossi’s face, or the way he gently excuses himself to go call the doctor as quickly as he can. 

…

A nurse comes into the room after an hour and gives you some more painkillers.   

“How are you feeling?” she asks as she injects them into your IV line. 

“Tired,” you say. “And my head really hurts.”

She nods. “That’s to be expected from the trauma you endured.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

She looks at you, “You were in a car accident.”

“I know, but like- how’d it happen?”

“I’m not entirely sure- your coworkers can probably tell you more.  But I know there was a car chase, and you ended up getting t-boned on the side of your vehicle. You suffered some head trauma, that’s why it’s taken so long for you to wake up. Probably why you’re a little groggy too. But Mr. Alvez received a few minor injuries. I think they’re starting to stitch him up now.” Just as she finishes administering the drugs, her pager goes off. 

“I’m sorry, I have to run. The doctor should be here soon though to check on you.”

Mr. Alvez. The name sounded vaguely familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite place it. Instead, you just assume he was the one who ran into your car. The nurse hadn’t mentioned anyone else, either, so you can only assume that you were alone in the SUV.. But why would you be chasing an Unsub alone?

Your thoughts are interrupted when Rossi re-enters the room.  Except, he’s not alone. JJ, along with a middle aged female in a white lab coat and dark scrubs trail behind him.  

JJ offers you a small smile before crossing her arms across her chest and standing in the corner of the room with Rossi. They gaze at you cautiously.  

“Glad to see you’re awake,” the doctor says. “I’m Dr. Hall. You’re very lucky that you weren’t seriously injured considering the severity of the accident.” 

She takes a moment to shine a light in your eye, and then again in your ear. She checks the movement in your arms and legs, which only causes a little discomfort at this point. “I need to ask you a few things, just some standard simple questions.”

You nod slowly in agreement. 

“Can you tell me your full name?”

You nod and tell the doctor. 

“Okay, now your date of birth?”  

Again, you answer. 

“What do you remember before the accident?”

“I'm not sure, but..” you stop, feeling a little confused. “The nurse said it happened during work. That I was chasing someone, I can’t quite remember who.”

“Okay, and what do you do for work?”

“Uh,” you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to concentrate despite your fuzzy mind. “I work for the FBI, I’m an agent for the BAU.”

“Good, and who do you work for?” 

“Aaron Hotchner,” you say. 

But something feels wrong when you look up to see the look on JJ and Rossi’s faces. JJ’s got her hand covering her mouth and she won't quite meet your gaze. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach as you watch Rossi inhale and place a comforting hand on JJ’s back. 

Dr. Hall nods slowly at you. “Okay, we’re gonna do some more tests, if you’re up for it now.”

“What’s wrong?” you looked over to Rossi, hoping that he’ll tell you what’s happening. 

Instead, he avoids your gaze. Dr. Hall is the one to speak. “It looks like there might be some retrograde memory issues going on, but we’ll need to do a quick CT just to be sure.”

“Oh my god,” you say, surprised, but also relieved to have an explanation as to why everything feels so foggy. “How much am I forgetting?”

Finally, Rossi speaks. “Morgan left the BAU three years ago,” he explains somberly. “And Hotch left a little over two years ago.”

Your eyes widen in shock. You feel like your heart might have stopped. 

Three years? You’re forgetting the last three years of your life?

You hear the heart monitor start to beep faster again as you fight to remain calm.  

The doctor puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

“No need to panic,” she assures you. “This kind of thing happens, and there’s no way to know for sure what we’re looking at here until we get a CT scan, okay? So let’s not fret yet.”

You nod slowly, but can’t quite manage to look over at JJ and Rossi again. 

“My nurse here is going to take you up to get a scan. We’ll review the results when I get them, okay?”

You just nod, because what else are you going to do?

The nurse from earlier comes in with a chair.  After helping you slip into it, you don’t look back to JJ or Rossi before she wheels you out of the room. 

Turns out, the walk to the scanning room was a long one, and you hated awkward silence. So, you bring up your conversation with the nurse from earlier.

“How’s the guy who hit me doing? You said his injuries were less than mine, right?”

She pauses slightly before speaking. “The guy who hit you was arrested by your team, I think,” she says. 

“Mr. Alvez?” you ask, maybe that’s why his name was familiar.  He was the Unsub you were after.

“Mr. Alvez is getting a cut stitched up, yes. But he’s okay.”

 You frown. “I don’t understand, wasn’t Mr. Alvez the guy who hit me?”

The nurse hesitates even longer this time. “Mr. Alvez was driving your vehicle,” she explains.

“What?” You were dumbfounded and tired of everything being so confusing. 

 “Mr. Alvez was driving your vehicle, the black SUV.”

You fall silent. He must be a member of the team. With Hotch and Morgan gone, like Rossi had mentioned, it was obvious you had acquired some new team members. You can't understand why else this Alvez guy would be in the FBI car. Your head starts to hurt from the chaos.  Rather than ask more questions, you let the awkward silence take you the rest of the way to the scanning room. 

…

When you wake up later that day, you smile to see Penelope and Spencer sitting in chairs across the room. Reid has his nose in a book. Finally a familiar sight. 

“Guys,” you exhale a breath of relief. The heaviness in your chest and the throbbing in your head isn’t so bad anymore. Instead you feel safe…because that’s how Garica and Reid always made you feel. 

Spencer looks up from his book, his face breaking out into a huge grin. “Hey, you’re awake!”

“Oh my gosh,” Garcia stands up and hurries closer towards your bed. 

“You have no idea how happy I am to see those beautiful eyes,” she says.  She gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before sitting down in the chair by your bedside.  

Spencer remains standing and asks, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” your eyes wander towards the profiler and you pause. “Your hair is different,” you observe. “It’s so long.”

Reid and Garcia exchange a quick glance before turning back towards you.  Oh yeah, you thought, the missing three years. 

“Apparently I’ve lost my memory,” you laugh dryly, attempting to joke at the awkward situation. 

“So I heard,” Spencer says uneasily, his lips pressed tightly together. 

“It’s a shame I still remember your face though.” 

That remark seems to bring Spencer’s electrifying smile back. It was even enough to get a small laugh out of him. 

“So, does anyone have the highlights from the past three years?”

The smile that’s been lingering on your lips slightly fades as you realize how much you didn’t know, so much you were missing out on. 

“Who took Hotch’s place?” you ask. 

Garcia jumps in.  “Oh, that’s good news. Emily!”

Your jaw almost drops to the floor. “Emily? Our Emily?”

Garcia nods frantically, her red lips smiling excitedly. “She came back from London to help out when she found out we were down a man, and when Hotch left, they made her Unit Chief.” 

“Wow. That’s incredible, that’s such good news.” 

It’s making your head feel heavy, trying to piece together the jigsaw puzzle of your own life. You continue to play 20 questions with them until there’s a faint knocking sound at your door.  

You turn to see some familiar and some unfamiliar faces entering the room. 

The first you see is Emily. She looks almost exactly the same, which is comforting. Then there’s JJ and Rossi and Tara, who you’re relieved to recognize. But two unfamiliar men walk into the room.  They file towards the back. You try not to focus on them, because it made you uneasy. How could there be two members of your team- that you may have known for as long as three years- that you just don’t recognize? 

You try focusing on the members of your team that you did know instead. It brings you an infinite amount of more comfort.   

“How’re you doing?” Emily asks sympathetically. “We all couldn’t wait to check up on you.”

“I’m okay,” you tell her nodding, even though everyone in that room knew it was far from the truth.

“Have you gotten your CT scan results back yet?” JJ wonders.

You shake your head. “Not yet, the nurse said the doctor would be in soon, though. I guess he was finishing up a surgery.”

You can’t help but glance towards the back of the room towards the unfamiliar members of your team after a few moments. One is standing with his arms crossed, but a similarly sympathetic smile on his face as the rest of your team was wearing. But the other, with dark, curly hair and tanned skin, is staring down at the ground. He won’t meet your gaze. He has a bandage on the left side of his forehead that he keeps itching at. 

Why can't you place him?

It’s awkward and uncomfortable with the team. Something that makes you feel very uneasy, because that’s not how you remember things being at the BAU. This is your family, so why can't you wait for them to leave?

After exchanging pleasantries and promises to visit soon, the majority of the team finally started to file out of your room. 

You wave goodbye to them as they left, realizing that no one introduced you to the two unfamiliar men. You assume that they didn’t want to overwhelm you. But as soon as it was just you, Spencer, and Garcia again, you let your curiosity peak.

“Okay, who were those two guys, in the back there?” you point to where they were standing. 

“That was Matt Simmons and Luke Alvez,” Spencer explains nervously. “They’re part of the team. 

“Alvez!” you remember the name from earlier. “The nurse told me he was driving- Was he the one with the bandage?”

Spencer and Garcia exchange another nervous glance, as if they’ve been waiting for this question all along. But you can read their faces like a book, and you see the way their faces fall.

They both nod slowly. 

“Yeah.” Spencer nods. “Yeah, that was Luke. And you’re right, he was driving the SUV.” 

“Who is he?” There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that you can’t quite place.

“He took over for Morgan when he left. So he joined the team a little under three years ago.” Reid explains cautiously. 

But Garcia gives a strange look, like there was something they knew that you didn’t.  

“What is it?” you ask them. You can't stand the fact that you don't know half of what was going on. 

Penelope sighs and when she speaks her voice is shaky.

“He- he is a member of the team,” she explains. “But you've also been dating him for the past two years.”

…

Luke’s gripping at his hair harshly as he paces through the halls of the hospital.  

“She has no clue-” he exclaims frustratedly. "No clue who I am.”

The truth is that he had been overly anxious to get to your room ever since arriving at the hospital. He pleaded with the doctor who was stitching up his forehead to hurry up. He needed to make sure you were okay.  

Even when a somber-looking Rossi had entered his room earlier in the day and told him you were experiencing some memory loss, he still felt like he needed to see you.  

“She didn’t remember that Emily took over for Hotch,” JJ explained to the team, all huddled in Luke’s room. “Or anything after Morgan left.” Her gaze wanders towards Luke. 

“Meaning she doesn’t remember me?” Luke had asked, wincing as the nurse continued to stitch up his wound from the accident. 

JJ bit her lip before looking to Rossi to answer his question. 

“We don’t think so,” Rossi declared. 

Luke had nodded slowly. “But we don’t know for sure? I mean they haven’t done any tests or anything?”

“They’re doing a CT scan now, I guess to see what’s really going on,” JJ had folded her arms across her chest tightly. 

Luke nodded, his hopes not faltering. He’d be what made her remember everything. One look- and all the memories would come back. Because their love wasn’t something you could just forget.  

“Just give her space, okay?” Rossi urged, he was the only thing blocking Luke from bursting through your door. “Try not to overwhelm her.”

“Yeah, okay,” Luke said without realizing what he was even promising. Because he knew that as soon as you saw him, this whole nightmare would be behind them.  

But when he did finally walk through the door to your room and your eyes didn’t immediately light up, Luke’s hopes started to quickly fall. 

In fact, you didn’t look at him at all. He bit his lip, trying not to give way to the fact that his entire world was coming crashing down around him while you told Emily that you were feeling okay. He found a spot on the floor to focus on, a single piece of dirt, or something, from somebody’s shoes remained the focal point of his gaze throughout the entire visit.  

What he wanted to do was charge your bed- wrap his arms around you and tell you how much he loved you. He wanted to say he was sorry for not avoiding the Unsub’s car- wanted to apologize over and over again until he was blue in the face. But he couldn’t do that.  Because you had no idea who he was. 

It isn't until he's out of your room and back in the hallway that he realizes he’s been holding his breath. Luke exhales sharply, panic setting in. 

Emily tries to calm him down by saying, “She might get all those memories back, Luke.”

“But she might not,” he admits, pulling even harder at the strands of his hair. 

“We don’t know that yet,” Tara reassures him.  “Oftentimes, amnesia after an accident is only temporary.”

“Okay,” he says, “Okay, but what if she doesn’t? What if I’m a stranger to her?”

Rossi steps forward this time, and grabs Luke by the shoulders. He has a stern look on his face while he lectures Luke. “Then we deal with it then,” he says. “But until then, you have to be strong for her, okay? Because she’s scared and she’s confused and she needs you to be strong.”

Luke nods as he slowly starts to come down from his panicked state.  He takes a couple of deep breaths. “Okay,” he agrees.  

…

The sun is shining outside and the little rays that escape through the blinds on the window illuminate your room when you hear the door rattle.

The door opens a second later and Garcia peeks her head in. “Hi, you’re awake!” She doesn’t open the door all the way, which makes you look questioningly at her. 

“What’s up?” you ask. 

She looks at you hesitantly. “You have some people to introduce you to. If you’re up for it.” She says it like a question, and you want to say no, but there’s something about the way Garcia looks, her normally bright, vibrant self looking dull and tired, that makes you agree. 

You wonder if talking to Luke and Matt will help trigger your memory. So you give Garcia a little nod, who looks at you smiling before opening the door all the way to reveal the two men who are waiting in the hall.

Matt walks in first. He’s got a sharp jaw that’s clean shaven and a tattoo poking out from the sleeve of his T-shirt. His hands are tucked into a pair of jeans that look slightly worn. There’s warmth in his dark eyes, and a comforting smile on his face as he looks at you.

The guy that comes in behind him is Luke. He has a head of thick, curly hair, and a pair of brown eyes that pop. He’s wearing a dark maroon shirt that clings to his biceps and makes his tanned skin look even darker. There’s something sad about the way his face is mixed with both exhaustion and sorrow. He looks like he needs a good night of sleep. 

“Hey,” Matt speaks first, and you can’t help but mirror the smile that’s greeting him. “I’m Matt.”

You look at both of them intently, trying to feel something, anything…but it only makes your head feel foggier.  

“I guess this is probably pretty weird for you guys, huh?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood. “Introducing yourself to someone you already know.”

Luke offers you the slightest smile, but it’s laced with dejection. 

“I’m sorry…” your face drops and Luke’s body goes tense. “I can’t remember you guys.” You look down at your hands because you can’t stand to look at them. You hate the disappointment you’ve caused on their faces.

“It’s okay, you’ve been through a lot, I’m sure it’ll come back to you eventually.” You look up to see it's Luke speaking for the first time. He’s got a warm, reassuring smile replacing the old disgruntled look and it instantly lifts your spirits. For a moment, you find yourself thinking, yeah, I can see why I had you in my life.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence for a moment, and you realize that you’re not entirely sure what to say. 

You want to be polite, and you want to give them both a chance, because at one point you obviously knew them well.

But when you look at them, you don’t see your team members. You don’t see your boyfriend. You just see strangers. 

… 

Dr. Hall comes in that evening to discuss your CT scan. You’re relieved that it’s only you and Emily in the room at the time that she arrives. 

“See that area there?” she asks, pointing to a mark on the screen she was showing you. “That indicates damage to the hippocampus.  That’s the primary memory storage site of your brain, so it’s no wonder why you’re experiencing what we call retrograde amnesia.”

The words she speak sound foreign, and while you did everything you could to understand, all you cared about was one thing.

“Will I get my memories back?” you ask. 

Dr. Hall scooted back in her chair and took off her black rimmed glasses. “Some people do,” she nods. “But some don’t. The good news is that the damage to your hippocampus is relatively minor. So much so that we missed it in our original MRI scan.”

You nod slowly. “So there’s a chance then?”

“There’s a chance. But even if it doesn't, the chunk that you’re missing is relatively small in the grand scheme of things. So even if you don’t get your old memories back, you do have the ability to create new ones.”

…

“Do me and Luke live together?” you ask Penelope in the car. You had been released from the hospital that day and the question popped into your head suddenly while you were on your way home. 

She nods, her grip tight on the steering wheel. “Yes, but he’s going to stay with Rossi for now. He didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You sigh a breath of relief. 

Garcia gently pushes the door open to your house that you don’t recognize. You take a deep breath to prepare yourself for what you’re about to see. You’re uneasy, but there’s an odd sense of familiarity that settles in your stomach despite not knowing what to expect.

The entrance opens up to an open living room where the gray curtains are drawn open, the light coming in from the windows shined bright against the furniture. 

There are shoes lined up neatly next to the door. A few pairs of sneakers lie next to a pair of giant boots that you know must be Luke’s. 

You recognize some of the furniture. Like the rocking chair your mother gave you, and the homemade blanket. The more you recognize, the more at ease you felt.   

The warmth only spread when you walked over to the coffee table to find a copy of your favorite book left out. 

That’s when you notice that there are so many photos. Some hang on the walls and some are in frames placed around the shelves and tables.

One in particular captures your attention, and as you draw nearer, you feel like the wind has been knocked out of your lungs. It’s a picture of you and Luke, he has his arm around you and is wearing a huge, ear-to-ear grin as he stares into the camera lens. You, on the other hand, are looking up at him, a similar smile on your face. 

You steady yourself against the wall, but suddenly feel like you’re having an out of body experience, your surroundings blurring out and Luke’s voice ringing in your head.

“I’m not gonna drop your phone, don’t worry-”

“Just do a selfie, that isn’t going to hold my phone, it’s going to fall!”

“This will look so much better than a selfie, trust me! Look, steady as ever, this branch is coming through for us-”

“Looks more like a twig to me-” 

You’re squeezing your eyes shut but all you can see is Luke rushing towards you to beat the self timer on your phone, his smile wide.

Your eyes snapped open as Garcia entered the living room to announce, “I put your suitcase upstairs- what’s wrong?” she asks when she sees your frazzled state. 

“Nothing,” you lie. You don't want to get her hopes up by telling her you think you just remembered something, so instead you say, “Just tired.”

“Oh, okay. Well let me get out of your hair then, so that you can rest.”

You nod, but all you can think of is getting your hands on some more photos. 

After wandering upstairs, you seem to know just where to look to find a photo album stashed away. You open the binder to find countless pictures. You flip through them eagerly, until one a few pages deep catches your eye. 

It’s another photo of you and Luke- this time you’re both looking into the camera. He has his arm around your shoulder and you’re pulling yourself into his side, your arm stretched across his stomach. Your head is resting comfortably on his chest and the closer you look, you realize that there’s tears in your eyes. 

Suddenly, Luke’s voice pops back into your head. 

“I wouldn’t have asked you out if I knew it was going to make you this upset-”

“I’m not upset, I’m- so.. so happy.”

“Happy. As in, yes, you’ll go out with me?”

“Of course I will.”

It’s like the floodgates open and suddenly, an influx of memories and information come pouring into your mind. You feel dizzy as you sort through them, wondering if any of this could be real.  

When you look back down at the photos beneath you, your eyes narrow in on Luke.   

You can’t help the sudden rush of tears that come streaming down your face when you realize that Luke’s no longer a stranger.  

…

You take a deep breath, trying to gather courage before pressing the call button on your phone. It seems strange to you that just a few hours prior, you didn’t even feel comfortable having small talk with Luke, but now, with your memories coming back, he was the first person you wanted to tell.  

The phone rings once before his warm, now familiar, voice answers on the other line. 

“Hey,” he greets. 

You exhale sharply before whispering a soft, “Hi.”

“Is everything okay?” he asks, concern evident in his tone. 

You nod, before realizing he can’t see you. “Yeah,” you say through the tears streaming down your face. “Yeah, can you- can you come home?”

After a brief moment of silence you add, “Please.”

You hear stirring on the other line, like Luke was moving around. 

“Y-yeah,” he stammers. “Yeah, I’ll be there in 10.”

After you hang up the phone, you continue flipping through photos as you wait for Luke. The memories come back to you faster and faster. It’s a relief, but it’s also exhausting.  

Only when you hear the front door of your house open and close do you tear yourself away from the photos. You shut the book and hastily run downstairs, eager to see Luke.  

The Luke you see in your memories and pictures around the house is different than the one standing in front of you now. The Luke you now remember has skin the color of caramel and eyes so warm the sun would be jealous. But this Luke looks flushed and exhausted, with dark circles encasing his eyes.

“Luke..” you say softly, your voice coming out in a whisper, as if saying his name would take all your memories away again.

He looks frazzled and worried, but you make your way to him slowly. 

“What’s wrong?” he frets, looking at you wildly.

You feel bad to have worried him into such a state. “Nothing-” you manage to get out. “I-I-” You’re so taken aback by just knowing who he is, that it’s hard to speak. 

But Luke’s face softens, and when he comes to the conclusion that you must have called him over here for another reason, his eyes widen. “Do you- are you remembering things?” 

Your face breaks out into a large, relieved smile, despite the tears still falling down your cheeks. You’re afraid that if you speak, you might just sob forever, so instead you nod frantically. 

“Oh my god,” Luke gasps before crossing the room in just two, large strides. He wastes no time before wrapping his arms around your body tightly. He lifts your feet off the ground, his face getting buried in the nape of your neck while he spins you around. “Oh my god,” he repeats, followed by a little chuckle. 

You breath in his comforting scent, wondering how you went so long without craving his touch. 

“I remember-” you choke out. “I remember now.”

Luke lifts both of his hands and cups your face, and you can see tears in Luke’s eyes. “God, I’m so sorry,” he tells you. “I’m so sorry I let you get hurt.”

But you’re shaking your head. “It’s not your fault, Luke.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his lips pressed tightly together like he’s trying to find his own words. 

“I thought I’d lost you,” he finally says. “First when you were unconscious at the scene, but again when you didn’t know who I was.” He takes a slow, unsteady breath. “I wasn’t sure you’d ever remember.”

He leans his forehead to rest against yours, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheek, it grazes the corner of your mouth before he leans down, wanting nothing more than to press his lips against yours, to remind you about what the two of you had together. 

When he finally pulls away, you’re breathless and wide-eyed. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he whispers. 

You nod and ignore all the thoughts and fears that are racing through your mind, and instead close the gap between you and Luke once again.

Luke tastes like mint and coffee, he smells like citrus, and he’s warm like a hot, summer day.

Luke feels like home. 

[cruisebuckley]

“Talk about love.” — JJ Maybank X Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: JJ is in love and he doesn't know how to confess, he has never been good with words, he keeps it a secret until he can't hold it back any more on a party — the problem is (Y/N) doesn't seem to be on the same page.

MUSIC: “Talk about love” by Zara Larsson

A/N: feedback it always welcome!! this is the first OBX fic I am reposting from my old account (I accidentally deleted it lmao) and it was inspired by TAL a song by Zara Larsson, the first version of this story was sadder and I didn't inted to make a second part at the time, today tho I sat down to rewrite and repost it and decided this jj and y/n deserved more of a happy ending so there'll be a second part inspired by another poster girl song!

WARNINGS: English is not my first language. Cursing.

WORD COUNT: 2.180

[MASTERLIST] [MOODBOARD] [PART 2]

JJ drinks the last of his drink, eyes flickering to where she was dancing with her friends, a wide smile on her face while she moves her hips in the beat of the song. He was having a hard time taking his eyes off her all night long. She was gorgeous, always was, but she was even prettier today. Maybe it was because of how happy she looked, singing with all she had, smiling with her friends.

“JJ, I’m gonna get more beer, do you want some?” Kiara asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah,” he nods, thinking it would be good to use the drinking games with John B as a distraction from (Y/N). He doesn't know what's motivating him to keep his distance for so long, he had come to the party with the intention of talking to her, but now he just couldn't, something was holding him back.

“Dude, you should do something,” John B. says.

“Yeah, you’ve been staring at her the whole night.” Pope rolls his eyes, “you’re never like this, why don’t you just talk to her?”

JJ snorts, but inside he feels more insecure, why was he so nervous? 

“I’ll talk to her, it’s just…” JJ clears his throat, trying to think of an excuse.

“Just?” Pope raises his eyebrows.

“She’s with her friends, you know, having fun and all” JJ shrugs. 

“Please,” Pope and John B. exchange looks before Pope continues, “this was never a problem for you before, JJ. Tell us, did something happen?”

“No.” JJ sighs,“I just want to talk with her about something, and… it’s bothering me, that’s all.” Kiara gets back and hands everyone their beers, she gives him a questioning look before sitting down again.

“Talk with whom? (Y/N)?” she asks then, and JJ nods, “so, what is it?”

“Nothing important.” everyone scoffs, “what?”

“If it is bothering you, it is important, idiot.” Kiara rolls her eyes. 

“Look, if you don’t want to tell us, that's okay, but for fucking sake, go talk with (Y/N).” John B. says, and Pope and Kiara agree with a nod of head.

“Okay, I’m going.” JJ says with a roll of his eyes, he takes one sip of his beer before setting it down on the table in front of him and finally gets up to talk with her.

His friends all make cheering noises, and he only gives them his middle finger and keeps on walking.

As he gets closer to the dance floor, though, he can feel his resolving weakening again, he can feel the bubbles of anxiety accumulating in his throat. He stops just at the end of the dance floor, a few steps of distance between them. It takes about five minutes for (Y/N) to notice him, she spins and stops when she registers it is him. Her smile grows bigger and even then, JJ can't avoid it but smile too.

She frowns, however, as she approaches him and swiftly places her arms on his shoulders, “Why are you standing there?”

“I was only watching you.” He shrugs.

“You're never one to just watch,” she says playfully.

JJ laughs, still timid but starting to enjoy being this close to her. 

“Is there something wrong?” She asks, usually she would already have greeted him with a kiss, but she is cautious now, and JJ knows she can read in his face that there is something he wants to say. 

“Nothing.” he smirks, “you're just too pretty tonight.” 

(Y/N) laughs, he can, she is going to let this one pass, and he is relieved. They slow dance for some minutes, totally ignoring the upbeat song playing, but soon enough as they drink more, they fall into the agitated rhythm of the others also on the dance floor.

JJ tries his best to forget what he wanted to say, tries to bury it and keep it quiet, he doesn't want to ruin any of this, doesn't want to risk it all. 

But (Y/N) feels it, the change in the air again, walks him to an empty spot close to the wall and stays holding his hand when she gives him a quick, but reassuring kiss on his lips.

“Did something happen?”

When he doesn't answer, she continues, “you know you can tell me.”

JJ can't look at her when he says it, it is pathetic, he knows, but he just can't.

He misunderstands, “J, you've been acting weird since you got here, haven't talked with me and not even looked at me properly, what's happening?”

At those words, JJ snaps his head back, “(Y/N)? You're  serious?” She nods,“I've been staring at you the whole night, I can't take my eyes off you.” He says then, refusing to be ashamed.

“So why don't you say anything? Why… Why are you different?” She walks closer and gives his hand a squeeze.

“I love you.” He blurts out. Never one to find the proper words or the right time.

(Y/N) takes a step back, but doesn't let go of his hand, “what?”

JJ clears his throat, there is no pointing in denying. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“Things are good, JJ.” she looks at him worriedly.

“I know, but-”

“We agreed on it, right? That it would be simple between us, no love, no dating, nothing of this girlfriend and boyfriend thing,” (Y/N) raises her eyebrows “we were fine with that, weren’t we?”

JJ feels the bubbles of anxiety starting to gather on his chest and throat again, “We… I was fine with it, I swear I was. But things changed, I don't know exactly when, I don't know how, but-” his voice cracks, betraying him, showing how much her reaction was affecting him.

(Y/N) takes a deep breath, calming herself, and JJ watches as her eyes wander his face, he wishes he could read her mind. “What changed?”

“I don't know. Maybe I did.”

She doesn't answer.

“Is it a bad thing?”

“JJ, I don't want to talk about love.” She replies, a whisper. “But it's not you, it's not you.”

He sighs, it's not conscious, but he distances himself, trying to hide somehow. There's no place for him to go, not when they are in the middle of a party, not when he just confessed his feelings while they are surrounded by people. JJ is trying to think of something to say, how to answer this, how to take it well.

But she searches him again, a step closer, a hand on his cheek, making him look at her again. 

“JJ, what makes you think you’re in love with me?” 

He knows where she wants to go with this, he knows, but he also knows what he truly feels, and it's not him rushing things or being confused. 

“Luke's party,” he says and her face changes, “it was the first time I ever felt… jealous.”

“Jealousy?” She asks, eyebrows raised.

“Let me explain,” he says, and she nods. “I was feeling… different for some days already, but it was the party that made me stop and ask myself what those feelings were.” He stops to breathe, he is happy that her hand is still cupping his cheek, or else he might stop talking with the look she had, “I was fine with it,  (Y/N), but it changed. These last few days, all I can think about is you. And I know I suck with words, but I am trying my best here.”

“You don't even know me.” He can tell it was not meant to sound harsh with the way she grimaces right after, but it hurts anyway, “I just… what I mean is, we don't even spend time together outside of this,” she gestures between the both of them with her chin, “what we have is different JJ, I know nothing about your friends, you know nothing of mine, we know nothing of each other.”

“What if I want to?”

She sighs, and he can see tears pooling in her eyes, it takes him by surprise.

“I told you I didn't want…” she trails off, shaking her head and retrieving her hand from his face.

Around them, a slow song started, the couples stared at each other with wide smiles and started to dance together. Fucking great timing.

JJ is frozen on his spot, he is trying his hardest to think of what to say, but she seems to always be quicker.

“I'm sorry, JJ, I really am. But I can't.”

“Why not?” He doesn't want to sound childish or insistent, but it just leaves his mouth.

(Y/N) closes her eyes with a deep breath, he wants to get closer again, hug her to try to calm her.

“We are good at this friends with benefits thing.”

“Why can't we be more?” He gulps, “I am confessing (Y/N), I am in love with you.”

“I know!” She gives an exasperated sigh, opening her eyes, the tears are still there, “I just don't know if I want more.”

He nods, “you are right, I am sorry. I shouldn't… I am sorry I insisted.”

“No, I…” (Y/N) frowns, “I-”

“No, you're right, you don't have to correspond with my feelings.”

“I'm just not ready, please don't be mad at me.” She knits her eyebrows together and for the first time seems to let her guard down.

“It's okay,” he says, trying his best to give her a reassuring smile, “really, (Y/N), it's okay.”

It feels awkward to stand there, he's not sure if he should try to comfort her some other way, if he should just leave. But he has so much to say yet, and she is looking at him like she also has. So he waits, he wants her to be the first.

“What if…” she breathes, “what if this is not love?”

“Why'd you say that?”

“Well,” she clears her throat, “it can be something else. We're young. And,” a dry chuckle leaves her lips, “there is so much, so many people to know, what if tomorrow you meet someone that makes you regret this?… I just want you to understand me.”

“I can wait,” he says then, surprising even himself.

“What?”

“You said you're not ready, I can wait.”

“I can't make you do that.”

“You're not making me,” he finally walks closer, finally takes her hand in his, “I want this.”

“What if it's not what you want?” She raises her chin, “and one day you wake up just to be bored? What if it doesn't excite you?”

JJ knits his eyebrows, “I really like what we have, I love it, and it is not… I don't want an exciting thing, not all the time at least.”

“And what do you want?” There is a hint of doubt there, and JJ hope grows.

“Something simple, something like what we already have.” He smiles, not quite sure of himself, but feeling better when she stays silent and lets him go on, “We chase our dreams at dawn, and it is our secret, that's what you always say.”

He manages to get a laugh from her and his chest erupts with happiness, a welcoming feeling that suppresses the anxiety in his chest.

“I just really want to call you mine.”

(Y/N) looks at him like she is about to break his heart, but he doesn't walk back, by God he'd let her, he'll let her.

“You don’t live with me JJ, you don’t know how I am. I don't think you would like me as your girlfriend.” She says then, and he can see she is trying to sound gentle. “We don’t even spend enough time together to be in an official relationship.” She stays in silence for a few seconds, as if thinking, JJ can't move away from her even if he tries.  “I am afraid I am not what you think, that you have a totally different idea of who I am for real.” her voice breaks in the last sentence, and her tears finally spill, JJ feels the lump growing back on his throat.

“I’m sorry, I truly am. ‘Cause I like you. But we are not meant to last, we chase our dreams in the dawn, we are always smiling, we are always having fun, we do things without worrying about the consequences until it's too late. We are good in bed and…” she takes her hands off his, “we are a teenage summer romance. We're not meant to last.”

They stay in silence again, JJ watches her, heart hurting, and still, so in love, somehow even more sure that this is indeed love. (Y/N) wipes her tears off and tries to give him a smile. He doesn't say anything, he knows she needs to go, he needs it too, to think, he knows the best thing to do now is to go home and sleep with these thoughts.

He only gives her a smile back, assuring her that he did understand.

She leaves.

[cerisemerald]

One and only — Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: She has been loving Thomas for a while now, and it is heaving on her the fact she thinks he still is in love with Grace — she needs a confession, a affirmation that she is not just filling in a gap. It comes in a unexpected night, followed by an unusual morning, but everything with Thomas was like that.

MUSIC: One and only by Adele

A/N: this is the second fic I am reposting from my old account (I accidentally deleted it) and it was from one of my celebrations (200 followers I think) that consisted of fanfics inspired by Adele’s songs from the album 21, this one was requested by a dear friend and it is very dear to me!! It happens between s1-s2, Thomas meets (Y/N) after grace leaves. Feedback is always welcomed!

WARNINGS: English is not my first language.

WORD COUNT: 5,477

[MASTERLIST] [MOODBOARD]

(divider credit is for @cafekitsune)

“Thomas,” she calls, staring at his back, but he doesn't answer, he continues to look at the field in front of them instead. “Thomas?”

“Hm?” He still doesn't look at her.

(Y/N) decides to finally walk to him, she does not stop in front of him though, sensing something was wrong and not wanting to disturb or annoy him somehow. She stops right behind Thomas, a step of distance between them, from this close she can see the tension in his shoulders better, and as much as she wishes to touch him and try to tranquillise him, she waits. He doesn't do anything, however, not even looks at her, and she sighs.

She looks at the field, too, trying to understand what is possibly happening in his head. But she has a strong guess, one she does not like at all. (Y/N) hates when Thomas lives more in his past than in his present life, for her, it was his biggest flaw; the way he was constantly living for memories and not for life itself. And she feels that now he is probably thinking about what happened two years ago, Grace.

(Y/N) does not care he is thinking of her, that she can understand, after all he did fall in love with her, it would not be easy, especially for Thomas who protected himself with so many walls, to forget the woman. She doesn't expect him to just stop thinking about Grace overnight, but it did hurt, sometimes, how it felt, as if she was living in the shadows of someone bigger than her. It had been Grace's mistake, but she was the one paying for it, paying for the mistakes of a woman she hadn't even met.

She also knew, of course, that it would take Thomas time to trust again, to open himself like he had before. She knew everything that revolved around a broken heart, she did, but knowing did not make anything easier to deal with. It was still hard to face Tommy and see how, even in his most present moments, a piece of him was lost. Sometimes, she would ask herself why she even stayed, when it seemed like Thomas would never love her the same way. But she did, returned to him every single time, hope, maybe, tying her to him.

“Tom, why’d you bring me here?”

Thomas had showed up in her house last night, surprising (Y/N) in the middle of the week. It was not how their encounters usually went, Thomas would see her mostly on weekends. Sometimes he would spend the night, sleep with her to leave only on Sunday morning, sometimes stay up until four pm, these nights they would dance in her kitchen while drinking whiskey. It was all simple, but what mattered was that they talked, that they would sit down to talk and would sooth each other. Everything between them was simple, even love, when it came to their realisations that they were in love. There hadn't been a confession, not from her nor from him, they had just looked at each other differently, held each other for longer, kissed with more passion than ever, and that was enough to understand.

But yesterday was very different. She could not understand what was happening, neither read it on his face. As soon as she opened the door, he was tense, eyes haunted — not like tiredness from work or exhaustion because of all his problems, but as if he had just heard terrible news and saw his world crumbling. When she greeted him with a kiss, he had not held her waist or face, and had returned the kiss distantly. Still, she breathed and let him in, hoping that she might help somehow. He didn't talk much, short answers only, but it was like he needed the attention, needed her to listen to him, so she did. After sometime, she had run out of ideas to console him and offered for them to share a meal together, and for the first time since they had known each other, he ate something. Almost unnerving, but she was so relieved that she chose to see that as a good sign. After that, Thomas just sat in silence while she cleaned the plates.

When (Y/N) finished, she turned around to see he was sitting still at the table, eyes closed, breathing like he was trying to control himself. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to hold back tears or a scream, whatever it was, it was consuming him, drowning him in anguish. (Y/N) moved slowly, getting closer to him and delicately grabbing his hand. Then she whispered his name like a secret, like she was afraid of being caught saying that, because, in truth, she wasn’t sure if she wanted Tommy to hear it or not.

But Thomas did, and he squeezed her hand like his life depended on it, returning the touch with such a force it took her aback. It was not like he never touched her, or that he didn’t show any sign of affection such as holding her hand, but that touch was different. It was acid, burning (Y/N)'s skin in seconds and leaving a million scars behind. Thomas touched her like she was the only one capable of saving him.

It was scary. It was exhilarating. It was a breath of heaven’s pure oxygen. It was suffocating as the smoke on a fire. And it was only a touch of hand.

But it said so many things, it said that he wanted her there, that he actually needed her there. And she was happy with being wanted, but being needed was something she could not even describe, it was overwhelming. It took (Y/N)’s breath away. It made her forget everything else she needed to do, because Thomas was there, all of him, in her kitchen, holding her hand and asking her to be there for him.

With care, she walked until she was behind him, her arms adjusting perfectly in his neck, allowing his head to find a rest in her belly, it was not often Thomas would let her be the one embracing him. Usually, he would be more vulnerable after they would have an entire night together, and he would lay down between her legs and relax on her chest while she caressed him. (Y/N) started to caress his hair, gently as she could, and she noticed that with time, Thomas was melting to her touch, a small smile grew on her lips, but she kept quiet. It was the first time she felt like she could have every single piece of him with her. He sighed as she took some strands of his face, inclining his head even more.

Thomas opened his eyes suddenly, and because of his moving, they were now staring right at each other. Her heart sank with what she could see, his eyes were dark and tired, hurt. Still, she didn't say anything, knowing it had to be him the one to initiate any type of conversation about what was happening, she only kept caressing his hair. After some seconds, he reached for her left hand and kissed it, making her smile again, he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, and she understood that it was his way of saying thank you. And, in a way, showing that he liked being near her like that. Although he seemed more calm, it didn't look like he would talk, and it was obvious how tired he was, so instead of asking anything, (Y/N) offered for them to sleep. He nodded, and they were quick to go to bed, a simple, but genuine kiss as a good night.

In the morning, he had all of a sudden woken her up with kisses on her neck — like last night hadn’t been so different, saying he wanted to take her somewhere. And yet, even though it was his idea to bring her, he hadn’t spoken since they got in here.

“I haven't come here in a long time.” He finally says something, making (Y/N) stare at him again. “My father…” Thomas takes a time to complete his sentence, “my father used to bring us here, sometimes, I hunted with him one day.”

“Hunted what?”

“A deer,” Thomas smirks, finally directing his look at her.

“You still didn’t answer me.” Thomas smirks only grows bigger at her words. “Why did you bring me here, Thomas?”

He keeps staring at her, she can’t tell everything he is thinking, but that he wants to say something and the words are hard to say, she is sure.

“I don’t know.” He confesses, and (Y/N) could have believed it if it wasn't for the hint of doubt in his tone, as if he didn't want to tell all the truth, but at the same time, didn't know all of it too.

She breathes deeply, she is trying really hard to understand him, she has been for quite some time, but he never truly gives her the chance. “It's that so?”

Thomas and her stare at each other for long seconds, it's not a battle this time, it's not her trying to reach him and him running away, (Y/N) feels as if she is already inside, but can't see what it is, and how could she? When he showed nothing before. She is not sure how to navigate this, what to search, what to ask, not this time, and that scares and frustrates her in equal amounts.

Thomas has these eyes that always make her feel naked, confused and alive. He sometimes looks at her like she is precious, like he cannot go a second without touching her, and she believes it, because his eyes are true, raw even. And then, he could look at her the way he is doing now, like she has just stabbed him, as if she has his heart in her hands to do whatever she wanted, and she decided to make him suffer. It wasn’t true, and it wasn’t fair, she didn’t have him like that, so why would he stare at her with all that devotion and agony?

She chuckles, lowly and dryly, and starts to walk, leaving him behind. (Y/N) doesn't know exactly what she is feeling at the moment, but everything is a little too much. She doesn't want to have to guess, it would be nice, for once, if he could finally say it out loud.

Stopping a few steps away from him, she finally takes a better look at everything in front of her, how beautiful that field is, how breathtaking the view of the sky is with no pollution from the city. The sun hadn’t completely risen yet, some shades of purple, pink, and orange decorated the sky. It looks just like a painting, she thinks, and it hurts a bit to realise that it would be a pretty day to feel good, for her and Tommy to be doing something enjoyable.

What bothers most is that it feels like there is just one last wall between them, and she had thought she would finally have him — but it's not simple, it never is. Thomas has to be the one to take that last step, he has to be the one to, at last, face what he is feeling. If she is the one to do it, to once again try to put pieces together to understand him, it will never change, he will only come home broken and expects mending. She wants more than that, she wants genuine words being said, wants to feel more than… a fragment.

She was afraid sometimes, what if the problem was not his past love, but her? Understanding that old feelings were hard to get rid of was easy, but to which point was Thomas protecting himself from any new feelings? Did it ever become a protection against her? (Y/N) would ask herself, what was he so afraid of? Afraid of having feelings for someone again? Or was he just afraid of… her? It scared her that maybe it wasn’t love and it’s disappointments that kept them apart, maybe it was her. And that she couldn’t fix.

She kicks some rocks by her feet and holds back another frustrated sigh, feeling like maybe she wasn't being fair, that her previous insecurities and frustrations might be influencing her. (Y/N) was trying so hard, to be seen, to be heard, to be loved. Because she loved him, honestly and easily, but had she not done this before? Tried to communicate, to understand? With others that now seem pale in comparison with Thomas, but still, love was a complicated thing. For her, it had always been, since the very beginning, since she had known what love was. It was not just Thomas, no, it would be unfair to say it was only him, perhaps she also needed time to deal with what was inside her. Yet she can't help to think it is different with him, there were others before, but he is the one that matters, he is the one she wants close at all times, the one she still stays close to even with all the hurt and words unsaid, waiting, wishing.

It was Tommy, after all, making her heart feel full and empty at the same time, occupying her thoughts, making her feel like things could get better someday.

If she just had the chance to properly talk to him… to cross all the bridges and understand, maybe then a conclusion would be made, one not based on assumptions she could not fully trust.

Nevertheless, here they are, turbulent thoughts clouding each one's mind. The surroundings are beautiful, the wind making leaves float in the air, both of them with their mouths clasped shut and minds running wild.

She can't see it, Thomas thinks, this time she doesn't seem to see the truth in his eyes. He notices the way she is shrinking inside herself, body almost crumbling, and he walks to her, he is tense when he hugs her from behind, arms keeping her in a tight embrace. Thomas knows she is fighting back tears by the way she lets herself go and relaxes her head against his chest as soon as he pulls her in. He can feel the way her body is fighting, half of her not willing to rest completely.

He never truly knows what to say, he did when he was with Grace, or almost always did, a clarity coming to him when he was about to do something stupid. With (Y/N) it is different, he knows how he feels, and she says the right thing, and he lets her read him, and they go on. Sometimes he has to say it, because she is tired, because she needs him to, or simply because he feels the urge to. But now it feels like they have reached a point that if Thomas keeps being silent, things will end.

Still, for a while they just stay in silence. Thomas keeps his touch steady, not entirely conscious that he is drawing patterns on her waist until she lets out a sigh that he recognises quickly by now, contentment, he can feel her relaxing a bit more. His hands wander a bit further, tracing her belly and up her chest, and as he remembers the night they met, his touch becomes heavier. For what felt like an eternity, he had wished to touch her. It was quick, she'd always say, how they met and how they ended up in a private room. She was not aware that for him, it had felt like a long waiting.

A party that he meant to go for business only, not even much interested in said business, at least not enough to try to do it in person, he had sent John to do it, but he got sick. Never before had Thomas been so happy with his brother being ill. Had he never gone to that party, he would not have met her. And it was a truth, even though he did not say it much, but a truth nonetheless, that since they met, she was constantly taking him out of his stupor. Since he had laid his eyes on her, he felt it, hands pulling him up, making him finally blink and wake up.

It was simple between them, it had been since the beginning, he had wanted her and there was no room for questioning if he would follow her, she had corresponded in the same intensity. Slowly their lives came in between, the days apart, the reality of each one, but even then, she only told Thomas she would be waiting, and there was no room for questioning if he would come back.

On the weeks with fewer visits from him, nothing changed, on the weeks he could see her more frequently, everything did.

Although his ghosts still haunted him, it was not the same as before, he could breathe now, push them away easier. But he had never been good with words when it came to this. To confess, he used words to get what he wanted, to conquer, long gone was the time words served as a way to connect and open himself. Grace had started to change that, easily as if she was a childhood love, she had picked up his heart on her hands. Thomas had not expected it, and when it hit him, he realised how truly in love he had been. For once his intuition had left him, after such a long time creating walls upon walls, they crumbled only to have to be raised again. He had also not expected it to change, to meet someone else, and yet, he did.

“What are you thinking?” She asks, head still resting against him.

“You.”

“You are thinking about me?” He can hear the small smile on her lips.

“Yes.”

“What about me?”

“The night we met.”

“Oh.” She chuckles, as if something suddenly made sense to her. “You were so pretty that night.”

Thomas holds back a smile, like he usually does when she says something like this. “I’d say you were more.”

(Y/N) laughs and turns to look at him, distancing herself enough so they could stare, he is relieved to see there are no tears in her eyes. “I was, but it didn’t last long after I met you.”

Her arms find a place on his shoulders as she hugs him, hiding her face on the crock of his neck. She radiates warmth, and Thomas welcomes it eagerly.

“It wasn’t all my fault.” Thomas says, dead serious, because sometimes she seems to forget they burn together, and she laughs again.

He feels when her body changes after a few moments, her breathing getting erratic, he prepares himself.

“Tom?” It's nothing more than a whisper.

“Yes.”

“I’ve been thinking, and…” something in him is begging for him to interrupt her, he knows what is coming, he can feel it. “I think we should, you know, stop seeing each other.”

He stays quiet, his arms never leave her body.

“Why?”

She takes a long time to answer, and Thomas starts to look for words he can say, things he can do to fix whatever needs to be fixed. He knows what it is, but as her silence stretches so much, he wonders if there is something more, if there is more he did and was unaware of it, that isn't hard to imagine. He feels, somehow, the moment she shivers, her arms seem to lose strength, her embrace weakening.

(Y/N) takes a deep breath before speaking,“because… because I feel like I’m Grace’s shadow. I feel like you met me when you were desperately needing someone to replace the emptiness that she left at your heart. It’s not that I’m the same as her, no…” she hides her face even more in his body, “it’s just you wanted someone to make you forget all the pain. And it happened that I was there to be your distraction. And at the beginning, I didn't care. But now, I do.”

She stops, Thomas knows she is fighting back tears, knows that she hates having to say all of this. Then she whispers, “I care because I’m in love with you, and being someone’s shadow for the man I love isn’t my biggest wish.”

What a treacherous path Thomas had walked them into. He could not deny it what he felt in the past was real, what he and Grace had shared was still haunting him, as his deceptions and frustrations always did. He never admitted, but for him, things like that never left his mind, he just pushed them away, kept them hidden. And still, things did not need to be like this, he did not have to act like that. He did… he liked (Y/N), not just that, he loved her even. A small and fragile thing at first, threatening to hurt him, not because it hurt, but because it made him finally move on. But now, a year later, it was not that small any more, he knew what he felt, knew that he searched for her when they were apart. And Thomas had no necessity in comparing what he felt before with what he felt now, he knew it would take time for something like that to happen again — to be true, he had not even thought it would happen again, but it did, it is happening.

Thomas blinks, watching as flowers and leaves were stirred by the wind, a hollow sound surrounding them. There is so much more he probably doesn't know, more things she thinks and has kept to herself.

“You’re not Grace’s shadow.” He says in a whisper, his voice betraying him. It sounds weak, and he wanted to convey how strong his affection is. Nonetheless, he hears her sighing in relief, distancing herself from him a bit, but still not looking at his eyes.

“You love her Tom,” (Y/N) states, “you’re still deeply in love with her and all you lived by her side. If I’m not her shadow, then I’m a mere ghost of what she was.” She raises her eyes to his face, he is already staring, always staring at her.

She looks at him with so much resignation that Thomas is almost convinced he cannot change her mind.

“I’m not angry or mad or upset about this. I’m just sad.” She says it then, voice low, Thomas knows it is because she is holding tears back. “And it doesn’t matter how much I love you, I don’t want to be sad, to feel miserable every time I don’t act like someone I don't even know. I just don’t want that life for me, even if that means losing you.”

He looks away, not being able to stare at her eyes at the moment, not when he doesn't have the right words to say. It was not his intention for it to reach this point, for her to think he wants a copy of Grace. He knows he has to say it, explain himself, but it is like being paralysed. It's the kiss on his cheek that makes him finally blink, it is the way her lips are so delicate against his skin, a goodbye. She leaves his arms, turning around to go back to the car, but he holds her wrist immediately, (Y/N) stops, looking at him with knitted eyebrows.

Thomas takes in all of her at that moment, the determination clear in her eyes, eyes he has grown so accustomed to, that do not search him unless he opens himself, eyes that love him, tender him. Eyes that he cannot forget even when she is not with him. He looks at her lips, lips that have said the words he needed to hear, the ones he did not want to hear, lips that have kissed him with so much passion that he was able to forget the world for some hours. She has, slowly, found a place inside of him, roots with her name overtaking his chest. Her hair flutters around her face, she seems tired, (Y/N) offers no more resistance on her face, only resignation, but she does not pull away either. He engraves every single detail of her in his mind.

The words are not helping him, he cannot think of anything good enough to say, it is like she wiped his mind, leaving nothing but thousands of pictures of her behind. Of every moment she has used her words not to pry him open, but to convince him to do so, every moment she has held him in place instead of insisting on dragging him somewhere else.

It was at the moment, the sun shining brightly, orange light taking over the sky, making her skin seem warm to the touch, that he finally realised. It had always been simple between them, he did not need to complicate it right now, there was no need for elaborate words, only the truth. She wanted something straight-forward, (Y/N) was just asking for it to be real.

“I don’t want her,” Thomas says, words finally appearing. “I don’t want her like I want you. Not any more.”

And it was true, he had loved Grace, had felt something he thought himself incapable of after the war, and yet, it passed. She had betrayed him, and he still felt it then, sometimes still feels it now, but it passed.

She gives a step forward, “but you still love her, right?”

He allows himself to remember Grace's face, her tender touch, it was involuntary, the care that comes with it. But there is also the pang of heartbreak, the understanding and the sense of finality, there is nothing he can do to go back in time, and now, he does not want it any more. He has (Y/N), she mended what was broken. He takes a step towards her as well, hand tightening even more around her wrist, he wants her now more than he ever did.

“Yes.” he admits, because it is also true that (Y/N) can wring secrets from him. “But she’s past.”

“Is she, Tom?” She gives in a deep breath, “if that’s so, you’re a man living your days in the past. You’re always with her, even when you try to be here with me.”

“No.” he denies, low and firm, “It’s not me living in the past, (Y/N).”

“What is it then?”

He wants to say it at that moment, to confess she haunts him, that his past always does — who he was before war, who he became during it. It is a part of him now. But that is not his nature any more, to confess this easily, it takes time, and he has said more today than he ever did before. Instead, he looks at her, knowing that when nothing comes out of his mouth, that it's what denounces him, his eyes.

She reads him again. Thomas knows, he always knows when she understands. Maybe it is the look on her face, he has never been able to identify what it was, but something changed when she could get him.

“I know it ain't easy,” (Y/N) says, getting closer to him, she puts a hand on his face, “it seems to haunt you, Thomas.”

She is close now, enough that he can feel the warmth of her body again. Thomas lets himself relax against her, his hand still on her wrist, he can feel her pulse now, slightly accelerated.

“I feel left out sometimes,” she whispers, “as if she is right behind me, and I am echoing her words, or at least the words you wanted her to say.”

Thomas nods, “you are not like her.”

(Y/N) seems surprised at that, “what was she like?”

But that is too much. “You are different,” he establishes, firm enough for her to understand he does not want to talk about Grace like that. It's easier to just forget, sharing this feels strange, describing how he loved her — because it would not be just an impartial view of how she was. “And your words too, you do not echo her in my mind.”

You fixed it. Erased what hurt was left on the surface.

(Y/N) squint her eyes at him, he lets her stare into his eyes, lets her understand.

“If we…” she cleans her throat, “if you try, could this work?”

He bites his tongue to say that is already working, because yes, for him, it is, but she is opening herself to him and saying she is hurting.

“What do you want?” He asks, instead.

“You.” (Y/N) shrugs, “I know we can't be each other one and only. But it would be good if you opened yourself more, I cannot always read your mind.”

He must've frowned at that, because she immediately completes, “I know it's different for you, how you open up. I sometimes wish for words, it's true, but it is not what you can give me and I know that.” And although she understood it wrong — he was just surprised when she said she could not always read him —, he was happy to hear that.

Thomas puts a hand on her waist, pulling her and closing the distance that was left, he can feel her now, that smell that calms him every time they sleep together, he tightens his grip. There is not a world where he would refuse this, it is surprising, sometimes even slightly scary and annoying, how she managed to awaken him when he fought so much to numb himself. But he always comes back to her, always knocks on her door, because it is stupidity to refuse her, push her away, only a mad man would do that. He consumes her instead, goes to her house, drinks from her lips with such thirst it is as if he is famished, and it is never enough. Whatever she wants, he thinks, whatever she wants to stay.

She is looking at him with an indecipherable expression, but he cares not at the moment, he will have plenty of time to reflect on everything she said today, to understand her even more. Now, he searches for her lips, brushing his own against her, wanting to feel her before making the real move. He is not one for teasing, every time he does this, it is because the waiting feel as good as the actual kiss, the way he can feel her skin shivering, the way she whimpers slightly — because they are the same when it comes to this, she also has an insatiable hunger. They finally kiss, then, desperate to feel each other, it always feels like they are one at this moment, and nothing else matters.

She is the one to break the kiss, only to look at him and whisper, “I love you.”

Before Thomas can think of answering, her lips are crashing against his again, demanding, taking, and he answers it. He almost chuckles when one of her hands find her way to get under his shirt, but his own body leans into it in such a fast manner he knows he would be laughing at himself too.

Since the first time she touched him like this, he knew he had cursed himself. He knew he would be damned, growing hunger for that, fonder for her. She had scared him, and yet, proved herself to be exactly what he needed.

He broke the kiss this time, not being able to contain the smirk when he saw her drunk eyes, even though he was for sure laughing at himself too.

“I love you.”

She melts against him, smiles brightly. He does not know why he waited so long to say it, but he is usually like this, takes too long to say something important.

“You’re not her.” He finds himself saying, surprising the both of them, “you’re not her shadow.”

She nods, Thomas sees her blooming right in front of him. He feels something settling in his chest, his mind getting quieter, a miracle for its own, but even more special when he feels it because of her.

Please. He thinks as he gives a peck on her lips. Don’t ever say you’re a mere ghost, when I love you this much.

The wind was still stirring the flowers and leaves of the field, and the field was still the same, same as the sun shining in the sky. But somehow, everything seemed more right.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

SORRY - Chapter 5

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“Here are your winners and the new WWE undisputed tag team champions! Jimmy and Jey, THE USOS!” Dominique spoke into the mic, with a smile on her face. The smile quickly dropped from her face as Jon stormed over to her and pulled her with him, out of the time keeper's area and into the crowd towards the backstage area.

“Jon.. What are you doing?” She asked as she stumbled after him, trying to keep up with his long strides. She was confused, because he was definitely going off script. He was supposed to be out there attacking Randy and Riddle with his brother and cousin.

Jon didn't respond, his jaw clenched as he continued to pull her along. “Hey, what the fuck!” She yelled at him when he pushed her into The Bloodline’s empty locker room, causing her to stumble in her heels. “What is your problem!?"

“You fucking Randy?! Huh! Is that why you won’t forgive me!” Dominique snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“And what if I am? You were definitely gonna fuck that girl last night , oh and don’t get me started on the fact that you spent the night with Trinity.” 

“Don’t fuckin’ play with me Dominque.” He gruffed out as he stalked towards her, backing her into the wall. 

“Ain't nobody playin’ with you. If you can do it, so can I.” She shrugged, not backing down as she stared into his eyes. Jon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew she was testing his patience and it was working. Jon opened his eyes, his jaw clenched as he struggled to keep his composure.

“Imma ask you one last time.” He muttered as he opened his eyes to look at her. “Are you fuckin’ Orton?"

Dominique rolled her eyes. “No, I'm not like you Jon, I would never cheat on the person I love.” Jon's expression darkened at Dominique's response. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. 

Jon sucked his teeth just as Joe and Josh walked through the doors. Jon ignored them though, keeping his glare on Dominique. “Stop with that bullshit Dominique. I aint cheat on you and I never will.” 

“What bullshit Jonathan?!” She yelled.  “I have caught you up in TWO bitches faces and you got the nerve to be acting like this because what? Randy was comforting me!” 

“He don’t need to comfort you Dom! Thats my fuckin’ job!” Josh decided to step in between them. 

“Aye, y’all chill out.” He said placing his hand on Jon’s chest, pushing him back from Dominique. 

“I’m chill.” Dominique said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s him, he needs to chill.”  Joe snorted, then held his hands up defensively as she turned her glare to him. 

“Y’all are perfect for eachother,” He muttered as he walked into the bathroom to take a shower. 

“We been together for four fucking years and I’ve never even thought about another woman. I fuck up one time and you won’t let it go. I’m sorry Dominique” He stressed, trying to grab her hands but she swatted him away. Josh shook his head at them and walked out the room to call his wife, he was happy as hell he wasn’t Jon right now. 

“Jonathan, it’s not just one tiny little fuck up. You let that woman into your  space. You let her think that she actually had a chance with you.”  Dominique tried to stop her tears from falling, but she was hurt and angry and looking at his face wasn’t making her feel any better. “And then, you spent the night with your ex? You didn’t come to me, you didn’t try to talk to me, you went to her and I'm supposed to just forgive you?” 

Jon stood there frozen as he watched the tears fall down her face, his heart heavy with the weight of Dominique’s pain that he caused. This was the second time in the four years they had been together that he had made her cry; the first being when he proposed in Paris. 

“If I can take it all back I would Dominique.” Dominique sniffled and wiped her tears away. 

“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.” She muttered as Joe walked out the bathroom. “We have a flight to catch, are y’all ready?” Without waiting for a response she walked out of the locker room and towards the writers room to grab her bags. 

Jon watched her walk away as a feeling of hopelessness washed over him. Their relationship was hanging on by a thread and he feared that with every passing moment, that thread was growing thinner and thinner. But he also knew that he couldn't force Dominique to forgive him, couldn't demand her love in return for his apologies.

“Sis, you okay?” Josh asked her as she walked past him. 

“No,” She shrugged, sending him a soft smile. “But I will be.” 

“I know Jon’s my twin, but I'm here for you, aight?” She nodded. 

“Thank you Josh.” 

Back in the locker room Jon groaned and plopped down on the steel chair. “You know I don’t like to get in y’all relationship business.” Joe started, walking closer to his cousin. “But Dominique is the one for you. I mean after you broke up with Trinity and brought Dom around, everyone and I mean everyone was skeptical about y’all relationship. But shit the whole family loves her now. Y’all gotta fix this,” 

"I know, Joe," Jonathan admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "I messed up, big time. I don't know how to fix things with her."

Joe placed a reassuring hand on Jonathan's shoulder, offering him a sympathetic smile. "You just gotta show her, man.”

“Hey” Ishana said as Dom walked in. “You look rough.” Dominique rolled her eyes. 

“I feel rough.” She muttered, walking over and grabbing her luggage. 

“Jon again huh?” Dom nodded and let out a sigh. “So y’all still beefing?” 

“Yes, he seems to think that he can just say sorry and everything will go back to normal.”

“Have you expressed how you feel though? About the whole situation, why you don’t wanna get married?” Dominique sighed and rolled her eyes. 

“Ishana, I don't wanna talk about my problems with Jon right now.” 

Ishana ignored her, “Communication is key, Dom. he’s taking accountability and you need to too.” Dom scoffed but Ishana held her hand up to silence her. “Okay I get it the girl kissed him and yes, he went to Trinity this morning  but to be honest you were looking for a way out of the engagement anyway.”  Dominique's eyes widened. Ishana's words hung in the air, heavy with truth and accusation. Dominique felt a mix of shock and anger rising within her, her mind racing to process what she had just heard. 

“You’re joking right? Now is not the time to be funny.” Dominique said glaring at Ishana. “No, I wasn’t tryna find a way out of my engagement. I wanted to get married to Jon, just not right away.”

Ishana rolled her eyes. 

“Bullshit. Ever since yall got engaged you’ve been picking fights with him and as your best friend it’s time I spoke up and told you about yourself. Yes he fucked up by letting that girl into his personal space but he’s been trying to talk to you, trying to apologize to you but you blocked him, how can he make things right if you’re closing off all communication with him?"

“You’re supposed to be on my side!” 

Ishana shook her head, not believing how stubborn her best friend was being. “There is no sides, Dom. I want you and Jon to be happy. And in order for that to happen, you need to grow up. Not all marriages end in divorce.” Ishana said, grabbing her pocket book and walking out the room. Dominique stared at the closed door in shock. What the fuck was that?!

Heyyyy... long time no see 😭🫣

I was having second thoughts about this story but talking to @paigereeder i got a second wind and was able to finish this chapter!

Hopefully you guys won't have to wait as long for the next chapter.

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

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[tealfloyd]

THE PREFECT'S SHOW — INTRODUCTION

Often times, experiences serve as valuable learning opportunities, so it's only natural that the Prefect of Ramshackle has some very interesting ones. Right?

NUMBER OF WORDS: 436.

A/N: I know, I know. It's been a year since I last updated (for the ones that know that I was in an indefinite hiatus). Honestly, I didn't have the will to write for a while given that university work is no joke, but I've had this idea for a new format for a while, so for my return I decided to upload it. It's super short but it's merely an introduction.

Either way, I'll try to answer requests again, since this is so much fun. Thank you for reading my rambles. Please, enjoy ❤️

“Is this on?”

You weren't sure if the camera Idia lent you was even on; the only thing you were sure of is that it wasn't crooked, at the very least. “I don't know... Idia has very weird tech. I hope it doesn't explode or something," you mumbled before sitting on the chair in front of your desk, shrugging your shoulders in acceptance.

“So, uh, hello, I guess? My name's MC. I'm half of a student here at Night Raven College and have been here in Twisted Wonderland for about..." You backed up a little to look at the calendar, wincing for a bit before turning back to the camera lens. "Half a year, approximately."

With a sigh, you continued.

“If you're watching this, congratulations. You're one of the people that has the pleasure to see the last bits of my sanity before it crumbles away in this school," you explained, letting out yet another sigh at your exaggerated—although not quite—remark. "I read somewhere that recording your experiences was therapeutic. Now, if it's true or not, I'm not sure, but I'm not one to deny something without trying it first, so here I am."

"Besides, Ace gave me the idea. Yesterday, when we were having lunch, he said:

'You know, I was thinking about how the Prefect's stories would make a really good show. I mean, if it wasn't because I met her, I would've thought that all of this was a Magiflix show.'"

“Everyone laughed,” you said with a deadpan face, “but I didn't."

“I know. It's far from the kinds of anecdotes you get told on the Internet,” you accommodated yourself into a more comfortable position, hugging your right leg and leaving the other one on the chair, ready to spill the tea, as Idia would say, “but don't despair, for I—"

You were about to talk again when your phone buzzed, signaling an emergency given how close it was to fall over the edge. Sighing, you immediately recognized Ace's name on the screen, inwardly hoping for some kind of miracle that it wasn't what you expected: an emergency.

“Speaking of the devil,” you showed your phone to the camera, picking up while reaching your arm towards the device, looking for the turn-off button. "Please, don't tell me it's an emergency. Uh-huh... Uh-huh... NO, TAKE GRIM OUT OF THERE—"

VIDEO OVER. WISH TO REPLAY?

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

[justalonelyslytherin]

Secret Family Recipe - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x female Reader

Summary: Just married, Jake's mother deems her new daughter-in-law ready to learn the families secret and special recipes. All. Jake has other some more slightly different plans.

Warnings: fluff. Slightly suggestive at the end - use of an innuendo - but otherwise pg

Wordcount: 1.3k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don't allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don't steal my work.

A/N: This is part of @flufftober's Flufftober 2022 as well as my 300 Follower Celebration. Divider's are by the lovely @/firefly-graphics

When she had met and consequently fallen in love with Jake Seresin she hadn’t expected to also fall in love with the way he loved his family, even less so with his family themselves. From the moment he had introduced her to them though, the deal had been sealed. They had welcomed her with open arms, not hesitating to make her part of the family even before Jake had officially done so.

“Now that you are a proper Seresin it’s time to introduce you to all our family recipes.” Jake's mother was excited for all she could tell. The woman had wasted no time to seize her chance and drag her into the kitchen while commandeering her son to go help on the ranch outside.

Now they were here in the huge country kitchen that the Seresin ranch had. It was the dream of every baker and cook. The kitchen island in the middle was littered with assortments of bakeware and ingredients of all sorts. It was an overwhelming amount of things she recognized and things she had no clue about.

First things first, however, they had turned towards the cups and big tea selection Mrs. Seresin curated. Standing beside her mother-in-law she nestled a big cup of steaming tea in her hands, while Jake’s mother stirred her own cup. 

“All of them?” she asked as Mrs. Seresin took a sip of her cup. Before the older woman could answer her, they were disturbed. In walked Ellie - Jake’s younger sister - causing both women to look her way.

“Jeez, mum, are we doing disaster prepping now, or are you trying to feed the entire Navy?” Ellie joked upon seeing the huge amount of things littering the workspace. 

Jake’s mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. “No. But it’s time to pass down the family recipes to your new sister-in-law.” 

Loudly gasping, Ellie turned towards her. “Really?” she asked excitedly, running over to her and bouncing back and forth on her feet. Smiling, she nodded at Ellie and asked, “Do you want to help too?” Ellie started to beam even brighter and nodded her head enthusiastically.

“Yes!” She squealed and raced to the sink to wash her hands, “Where are we starting?” But before Mrs. Seresin could answer Ellie gasped loudly once more and turned back around to eye her up and down.

“You aren’t pregnant are you?”

The question made her splutter and choke on the sip of tea she took. The droplets of sweet tea had made it down the wrong pipe and had her cough violently as she shook her head. Mrs. Seresin patted her on the back continuously.

“No!”, she managed to squeeze out in between the coughs and when the coughing had settled down she added, “Not yet. What makes you think that?” The surprise in her voice was clear. 

Jake and she had just gotten married. In fact, they had just returned from their honeymoon, spending now the last of his military leave with his family before they would fly back to where he was stationed. They wanted kids, that was no question and no secret either. But they hadn’t made any plans yet.

Ellie shrugged her shoulders, the disappointed look on her face unconcealed, “Well mum said it’s time for all of them. But going through every recipe at once seems rushed.”

“Ellie!” Jake’s mother scolded, looking rather bashful. “I am simply excited to pass along the recipes to another daughter. She is my only daughter-in-law.”

“Who says that? What if I decide to marry a woman later on?” Ellie’s quip made her mother roll her eyes.

“Fine. She is my only daughter-in-law for now.” With that, Ellie grinned triumphantly and nodded. Satisfied she turned back towards the many ingredients.

“So where do we start?” Y/N asked, eyeing all the things on the table.

In unison both Seresin women answered, “Pie,” to which Mama Seresin added: “Pumpkin pie. I just harvested these from the garden.”

Thus they started making the dough and the filling. Jake’s mother taught her all the little tricks and tips that made the recipe so special. That made the recipe a Seresin recipe. 

The first pumpkin pie was already in the oven, slowly baking and browning. The sweet fragrance of the baked good slowly spread throughout the kitchen when they heard the front door open just before the shuffling of someone removing their shoes. Just after Jake came waltzing into the kitchen barefoot. He grinned like a Cheshire cat at the look of the three women standing there together.

“Heya cowboy,” She greeted her husband - still getting used to the term - and smiled brightly up at him from the bowl she was mixing another batch of filling. Jake eyed her up and down before walking over.

He was just about to dip his pinky into the bowl when he was whacked with a wooden spoon by his mother. “Jacob Seresin you wash your filthy paws before you touch anything in my kitchen or so god will!”

Holding up his hands in defense and snickering quietly Jake obliqued. He trudged over to the sink to wash his hands with plenty of soap to get the dirt left from the work outside off of his fingers. Once he was down he came back over to her, to wrap his arms around his wife. Y/N shuddered as her shirt got soaked. Of course, he didn’t dry his hands, the cheeky little ass he was. With a groan, she elbowed him.

“Jake!” Her scolding didn’t impress him the slightest, he only chuckled into her ear and leaned his head on her shoulder.

“What are you doing?” He asked softly, pressing a kiss to her shoulder and squeezing her waist.

“Baking,” she answered with pursed lips causing him to rumble behind her - he could obviously see and smell that. His innocent kiss to her neck quickly turned less innocent as his teeth grazed over the sensitive skin. Goosebumps spread over her body, she nearly dropped the spoon she was holding from the sensation too. When he went so far as to even lightly bite her there, she shuddered against him, once more jabbing him with her elbow. He didn’t care. Of course, he didn’t.

“I can see that, sweets. But what are you baking?”

“Pumpkin pie.” 

Jake behind her hummed, “Delicious,” he whispered. The way he said it she wasn’t sure if he meant the pie or her.

Ellie groaned and shot a murderous glare towards her brother, “Shut up or I’ll dunk the bowl of pumpkin seeds on your head, Jake.”

Jake laughed once more, “You wouldn’t dare sully mum’s kitchen like that.” Ellie rolled her eyes and grumbled. He was right. Their mother would have a heart attack having pumpkin innards and seeds strewn through her kitchen.

Once Ellie had turned back to focus on her own task, Jake turned his attention back to his wife. He pressed himself against her back and rolled his hips against her behind. Lowly he murmured into her ear, “Want to sully somethin’ else later? I got some better seeds.”

His words made her feel like she was on fire. Heat crept up her neck and encompassed her cheeks and ears. Gasping, she faltered in her movement, nearly dropping the spoon in her hand into the bowl.

“Jake,” she whined quietly, huffing about his unfairness. How could he say this right now, in front of his family, and expect her to stay calm?

“Wouldn’t you like it if we had our own little pumpkin by next year?” His hands crept around her middle, one sliding under her shirt to rub against her belly. “I’d certainly enjoy seeing you as round as one.”

[thistledropkick]

Last year, Kasai Jun was interviewed as part of the interview project DEATH, which interviews various people about death in order to find a better understanding of how to live and appreciate life.

I thought it was a fascinating interview, so I decided to translate it.

Please go visit the original interview - the photography accompanying it is absolutely gorgeous.

Also, please don't repost this whole translation elsewhere. If you want to quote an excerpt of my translation for something, please make sure to also credit the original team behind this interview and link back to the original interview.

Deathmatch Fighter Kasai Jun - 4/27/2022

“It’s not a deathmatch until you return home alive” The reason this 47 year old Charisma Wrestler continues to shed blood in the ring

Within pro wrestling, there is a genre called “deathmatch.”

An extreme set of rules that allows deadly weapons and has no disqualifications. Brawls with fluorescent light tubes, and dives onto barbed wire boards. Without hesitation, wrestlers stab their opponents in the head with fistfuls of bamboo skewers. When wound-covered bodies violently collide, shards of glass and sprays of blood shower the ringside seats.

Upon first seeing it, surely everyone thinks “Why are these people hurting each other like this?” “What the hell am I looking at?”

This is the world of the man known as “Charisma,” professional Wrestler Kasai Jun of the independent promotion Pro Wrestling Freedoms.

In November of 2009, he had a “razorblade board plus alpha deathmatch” against Ito Ryuji in Tokyo’s Korakuen Hall. Kasai, 35 years old at the time, dove from the second floor balcony, a fall of 6 meters, onto a table, aiming for his opponent Ito.

Afterwards they continued to fight with various weapons, in a match that concluded 15 seconds before the 30 minute time limit. That year, this match was awarded the Best Bout award. And Kasai, the winner of that match, became a living legend overnight.

12 years have passed since then. Kasai is now 47 years old, and he continues to rule over the world of deathmatch wrestling. Under the weight of many literal life-or-death battles, Kasai’s body no longer moves the way it did when he was young. Even so, why does he continue to set foot in such a dangerous place?

We asked “Charisma of Deathmatch” - a man who makes the crowd go mad in the space between life and death - about his views on death and on life.

Desiring to truly feel alive

- Normally, people try to avoid pain and suffering. Kasai, why do you continue to shed blood in the ring?

Hahaha. From an outside perspective, you must really wonder “Why do you keep doing something so painful” huh? That’s a normal way to feel. But from the wrestler’s perspective, it’s completely different.

In your normal daily life, do you ever feel like “Ahh, it’s so glorious to be alive”? You’d almost never unconsciously blurt out something like that.

But in a life or death battle in a deathmatch ring, after you step down from that ring, that’s exactly what you feel. “Ahh, I’m alive. I’m so grateful to be alive.” Because of that, I can’t quit.

Mountain climbers and stuntmen probably feel like this too, don’t they. Stepping into a situation where their life could end, and returning home safely. I wonder if they’re searching for that feeling of being “truly alive.”

This feeling is passed on to the audience too. Fans often tell me “Watching Kasai Jun’s deathmatch gives me the strength to continue forward.”

They say things like, “I’m being bullied at school so I wasn’t going to go any more, but now I feel like I can keep going.” Or, “It’s exhausting to keep going to work, but after seeing Kasai persevere while shedding blood in the ring, I can persevere and keep going to work.”

Recently I can’t do this much because of covid, but in the past when I’d sell merch, fans would often say things like this to me.

Because of this, it seems to me that deathmatch wrestling is simultaneously a way for wrestlers to feel truly alive, and a way for those who watch it to feel more positively about living.

- Because of the sensational way “death” is shown in the ring?

Probably, yeah. Because it looks like we’re doing something really painful.

But don’t get me wrong. We aren’t in a particular hurry to die. And we aren’t wasting our lives either. What I always say is, “It’s not a deathmatch until you return alive.”

[Note from me - this phrase (生きて帰るまでがデスマッチ) is a play on a well-known Japanese phrase 家に帰るまでが遠足 “The field trip isn’t over until we return home.” This started as something a teacher would say to students in their care, and Kasai has altered it into his motto towards both himself and other deathmatch wrestlers.]

- It’s not a deathmatch until you return alive.

If you get in a ring where you might die or get seriously injured, and you do die, or you do get seriously injured, you’re no different than a rank amateur, right? But a guy who dives into a deadly dangerous situation and returns from that ring unharmed, he’s the absolute greatest and the absolute coolest.

Like a stuntman, right? If he returns home alive, people say “amazing,” but if he dies, he’s no longer a pro.

At 35 years old, his view on life did a complete 180 during a match

But, when I was young, I thought about it completely differently. I never thought “I’m grateful to be alive.” In the ring, I did dangerous stuff and defeated my opponents. I just thought of it as my job.

The more dangerous stuff I did, the more people said “Kasai is amazing!” That felt really great. Every time I stepped into the right I thought, if something goes wrong and I die I guess that’s how it goes. I thought “Deathmatches should be a memento mori.”

- What caused such a big change in your values?

That match against Ito Ryuji in Korakuen, in 2009. It changed my mental state by 180 degrees.

The truth is, I went into that match thinking “This is my last match before I retire.” Because it was my last match, I would do everything I wanted to do. Win or lose, I went into the ring thinking “I’ll retire.”

But during the match, my feelings completely changed. I thought “If I quit like this, I’ll be half-dead.” There’s nothing else I want to do, and I’ve never felt joy like this anywhere else. It was just too much fun.

So, after the match ended with 15 seconds remaining, I announced my decision to continue wrestling. “I was thinking of retiring but, I’m gonna keep going.” That’s what changed.

- Since your values have changed so significantly from when you thought it’d be good to die in the ring, what’s your “ideal death” now?

Spending the day with my family as I always do, watching tv with an after-dinner drink as I always do, getting comfy in my futon as I always do, and passing away. That’s the best death, isn’t it.

I’ve said it before but, people who say “It’s my ambition to die in the ring” are just trying to look cool. For a pro, it all comes down to returning home alive. And so, I believe that when the life of Kasai Jun the human being comes to an end, Kasai Jun the wrestler will die as well. I want to be a pro wrestler until I die. That’s how I feel now.

When I was young, I thought the best time for a wrestler to retire was when he could still move, when people would say “It’s a shame, because there’s still more he can do.” But if that’s true, I’ve already missed my best time to retire.

Since I’ve come this far, maybe it’s better to keep doing this until my death. Since around the time I turned 40, I started thinking this way.

Gaining years = leveling up. I’ll reach my peak just before death.

- Since you’ve been doing this for so long, it’s inevitable that your body has become weaker. Kasai, how have you dealt with aging?

The word “elderly” is a concept created by human beings, isn’t it? Since that’s the case, I believe it’s something we can absolutely overcome. I don’t think increasing in age is the same as becoming elderly.

Look, it’s true that my physical stamina has decreased and my muscles have gotten weaker than they were when I was younger. But my will and my spirit have continued to grow. Instead of just breaking even, I think I’ve leveled up. 47 years old is level 47. I now see growing older as a positive, like leveling up every year.

Because of that, my peak has yet to come. I’ll reach my peak just before I die. I’ll be at my strongest just before my death. That’s the ideal I envision for myself.

There was a time when I felt insecure about my age. When I hit my mid 30s, I hated that my body was becoming weaker.

But then, while drinking at home and watching a documentary on TV about (rock musician) Yazawa Eikichi, I realized something. “If you think about it, uncool young people are uncool, and cool guys are cool even if they’re old.” Since then, my way of thinking changed. I started calling getting older “leveling up” at around that time.

[Note from me: Suzuki Minoru also refers to getting one year older as “leveling up” in the exact same way. They are friends, so I assume Suzuki got it from Kasai.]

- I'm surprised that a pro athlete who uses his body as a weapon would think of aging in that way.

Pro wrestling and deathmatch are unique among sports. Unlike say, track and field, or swimming, it isn’t a competition where every second counts. I can’t move the way I could when I was young any more, but through my facial expressions, pauses during matches, and so on, I have many ways to express myself.

A guy can be handsome, macho, with great muscles, and completely suck as a wrestler. In contrast, a guy like me who’s ugly, short, and middle-aged, can get support from the fans. It’s a completely different genre, and that’s what makes pro wrestling so interesting.

- What about your emotional struggles? In your documentary film you said you were having some difficulty maintaining your motivation, which you described as “Deathmatch Erectile Dysfunction”

Yeah, well, that can definitely be a problem. When you’re young, you’ve just got piles of hopes and dreams and things you want to do. But as the years go on, and as you accomplish those things, you can kind of get lost.

What’s helped me increase my motivation has been the existence of people who make me think “I absolutely don’t wanna lose to this guy” or “I don’t want this guy to take all the best stuff for himself” In my case, for example, that’s been (fellow PW Freedoms deathmatch wrestler) Takeda Masashi. Or, although he’s from another organization, New Japan Pro Wrestling’s El Desperado.

That’s why for the past 3 or 4 years, I’ve been asking people to “stimulate me.” I want intimidating people to keep approaching me. Well, on the other hand, if they take the most delicious part for themselves, that’s a problem.

A fear of death led to a “selfish life”

- Incidentally, perhaps it’s too late at this point, but do you worry about being injured or dying?

I said it already but, “It’s not a deathmatch until you return alive.” Since I’m a pro, I have the skills required to do this without death or injury. 

But, it’d be a lie to say “I’m not afraid.” Even now, for several days before a match I get so stressed that I can’t sleep. Despite how I look, I get plenty scared. Much of my life has been driven by a strong fear of death.

- How do you mean?

It sounds silly, but when I was in grade school I believed in “The Prophecies of Nostradamus.” Have you ever heard of it? “In the year 1999, all of humanity will be destroyed.” Every night I shook with fear in my futon, thinking that my life would end at the age of 24.

Propelled by that fear, I concluded, “If the earth is gonna get destroyed anyway, I should quit studying. Instead I should use the rest of my remaining lifetime to do stuff that I like.” I completely quit studying, and instead spent all my time watching pro wrestling, which I loved.

Conversely, my fear of death also led me to become a pro wrestler. After graduating high school, I got a job in Tokyo as a security guard, but I gave into temptation and visited brothels daily. One day I happened to be reading a magazine with an HIV checklist inside, and almost every item applied to me.

At that time, I still thought “AIDS = death” so I thought “Oh, this is AIDS.” “Oh, this is how I’ll die.”

Luckily, when I got tested the result was negative, but after preparing myself for death, I thought “I really should do what I want” and knocked on the door of Big Japan Pro Wrestling. My life has always been influenced in this way.

- I get the impression that many wrestlers die at an early age. Since then, your fear must have increased.

Nah, that’s not really true. I’m surprisingly practical about the deaths of others. I just accept it, like “That’s the kind of life you lived.” I suspect my fear of death isn’t a fear of death itself, but a fear of becoming nothing.

- A fear of becoming nothing.

I’m no (actor and spiritualist) Tanba Tetsuro, but if after you die, you go to the spirit world, and cross the Sanzu river, that’s not all that scary is it? I wouldn’t go so far as to say “it’s fine if I die” but there’s some kind of hope or meaning. But if “After death, you become complete nothingness” “After death you feel no joy or sadness” I think that’s really scary.

But these days, I don’t experience that fear of death as much as I used to. If after this interview a dump truck hits me and I die, I wouldn’t have any regrets. I could say I did what I wanted to do.

Pro wrestling is a business where you depend on your popularity with an audience, but I’ve never tried to flatter the audience to get sales or support, or thought about how to increase my popularity. Ultimately, Kasai Jun puts himself first. I’m my own number one.

To die without regrets is to win at life

- But, if someone wanted to imitate your way of life, I think most people would be profoundly afraid of not getting by financially, or of being rejected by society. Why do you think you remain stoic in the face of such fears?

What’s there worth imitating about me? If you’re selfish like me and you can change it, you should want to!

But, this is probably related to that “fear of becoming nothing” I mentioned earlier. Ever since I was little, I’ve thought stuff like “This whole world isn’t real” and “Maybe all of this is just a dream.”

Nothing in this world is certain. Since that’s the case, all you have are your own body and your own feelings. In short, I don’t believe in anything but myself, so I put myself first.

- So in order to “feel truly alive” you throw yourself into the painful world of deathmatch wrestling, which leads us back to where we started.

That’s right. I guess you could say that pain is the only thing I believe.

But when I was young, I did understand the fear of not making enough money to survive. When I was around 30 and my son had just been born, I was seized by that fear.

Really, I was broke, and I couldn’t even pay into the National Pension Fund like I was supposed to, so I went to the ward office and said “I do intend to pay, so please wait a little.” I thought to myself, “Living is so expensive and so difficult.”

- A deathmatch fighter scary enough to quiet a crying child, with such an everyday problem.

Three years after my debut, when I was around 27, I was badly injured. I quit Big Japan, and after a year’s absence, I transferred to a different group called Zero-One.

Zero-One was founded by ex-New Japan Pro Wrestler Hashimoto Shinya, and the pay was good compared to Big Japan, and they held a lot of shows, so I could wrestle frequently. The environment there was very pleasant.

But, due to the policy of the organization, I couldn’t do the deathmatches that I love. During that time as a “salaryman wrestler,” I survived, but I think deathmatch fighter Kasai Jun, pro wrestler Kasai Jun, was completely dead.

“I really should do the pro wrestling I want to do,” I thought, and I quit Zero-One, and persisted with the pro wrestling that I love. Maybe that’s why I feel like I can now “die without regrets.”

Ultimately, if you live your own life as you wish, and think “I have no regrets” when you die, you win. Maybe people today have lost sight of the essence of what it means to live. It’s fine to work hard at your job, but if you’re spending every day miserably, is that kind of life really okay with you?

I’d rather live for 20 years and laugh every day than live for 100 years and never smile. If you’ve lived for 100 years and never laughed, that’s the same as being dead, isn’t it?

~

写真：本永創太 ~ Photographer: Motonaga Souta

執筆：鈴木陸夫 ~ Author: Suzuki Atsuo

編集：日向コイケ（Huuuu）~ Editor: Hinata Koike (Huuuu)

[orion4ever]

hey dude, i know you mean well for the ol community, and i think you're really cool and have been following you for a while, but i really don't think all this shitting on rose is justified. spreading callout posts by taking shitty things people have said out of context, especially queer poc, is a real tactic used by terfs to spread discourse and isolate queer people from communities, and it's worked so well that queer people have started doing the same to their own with really good intentions, but the overall effect is nonsense discourse and the spread of hatred. kab herself has publicly said that she and rose have a good relationship and that she thinks most of rose's impact on the games and community has been really helpful for checking her own biases. the screenshots and shitty things you've read about her are not the full story, and yes, i do agree that rose handled certain things really really shittily and i am not excusing that at all, but rose isn't a bad person at all, what the callouts show is out of context and does not show rose accurately as a person, and the degree of hatred for a group of people honestly trying to create a safe space for queer people is wildly disproportional. i really hope this doesn't come off as any way accusatory, because it really isn't, and i really look up to you as a creator. i just want you to be aware that this is something that has been settled by the people involved, and continuing discourse and wanting rose fired goes directly against kab's own wishes and is based on misinformation. thanks for reading this far. please have a wonderful day

I respect you and I appreciate that you reached out respectfully with this.

I do not repost these call out post to be malicious or start a hate campaign like some people have been accusing others of.

I do not encourage witch-hunting or harassment of Rose or Kab ; As they are people and make mistakes , even if the mistakes are extremely shitty and I understand that those screenshots were a private conversation but frankly , I think some of the stuff Rose said was extremely odd and vulgar , context or without.

I am not in the official OL server so maybe your right about them not being as bad but even if that was the case they should still be let go of the role as sensitivity reader because they’re views aren’t open minded and its ironic that they are supposed to help prevent bias and keep the game inclusive when they’ve shown a weird rhetoric and the paper bag comment actually made my jaw drop.

OL has been one of the most comforting things to me , I was in a really dark place when I started a new save file and fell in love with all the characters and the game so believe me when I tell you I would never want to attack the very person who created and brought me that comfort. It physically exhausted me and upset me yesterday when it all came to light , considering it has been a huge hyperfixation and boosted my self esteem.

I don’t care if GB is okay with their friends talking an insane amount of crap behind their backs. It's not my business, I just think that they need better friends.

Even with this in mind, I can’t continue my support for Kab if they decide to keep Rose on the development team, not purely just because of what they said in private but how they treated my friend. The both of them are insinuating that they’re a “liar” or that they “overreacted” when they just wanted to express a grievance. And a surprisingly large number of people are harassing them and accusing them of starting a “racist campaign” towards Rose when they are a trans minority as well. If the fandom is so quick to villainize my friend for simply speaking out then frankly I don’t want to be a part of this fandom.

I hope you also have a good day.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Not So Happy Birthday Part 2

AN: let's gooooo

Synopsis: Jack feels the consequences of his actions and his birthday is steadily approaching. He's praying that you give him a chance to apologize

Pairing: Ex-boyfriend!Jack Harlow x Ex-girlfriend!Reader

Appearances by: @hoodharlow @nattinatalia @a-moment-captured 💖

Read Part 1 first

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You were currently in the bathroom at the airport trying to use one of your make-up wipes to catch the tears that were continuously falling. 

Your flight had now been delayed for three days and you had been stuck at the airport ever since trying to get back home because the last thing that you were about to do was go crawling back to Jack after accusing you of cheating on him.

All of the money and time you spent trying to make his birthday perfect all for it to come crashing down around you.

Your phone had been dead since you lost your charger or left it at the hotel room which you had shared with Jack and you couldn't buy a new one since you used Apple Pay and had no cash on you until a nice stranger who worked at one of the many gift shops bought one for you. As soon as it had a little charge to it, you were going to call Blanca and Jessica since you were too scared to call your older sister Melissa. 

She was worse than Blanca at times and you knew she would have no hesitations to kill Jack without even asking for an explanation.

You just couldn’t put your finger on how everything could have gone so wrong so quickly. One moment you were talking and laughing with your boyfriend and the next moment he had packed your bags for you and cussed you out and told you to basically get out of his life.

The amount of hurt that you currently felt you couldn’t even put into words. 

Meanwhile, Blanca was getting antsy because she hadn’t heard from you and the two of you usually talked every single day. 

“Jessica, this is going on day three and we haven’t heard from her and I’m starting to think the absolute worst. I mean she’s with Jack so I know she’s safe, but still. She would at least check in with us from time to time to let us know she was alright.”

Jessica was currently scrolling through her phone as she looked at all of the unanswered text messages she sent to you while Blanca looked down at the thirteen unanswered calls from you and finally broke down and decided to call Ace and Jessica agreed. 

“Just call Ace at this point, he’s got to know something. But if something had happened, I would have thought that he would have said something by now.” Jessica responded while putting her phone down on the coffee table as Panchito jumped in her lap. 

“Hello?”

“Ace…. you have ten seconds to tell me where my best friend is and if she’s okay.” Blanca said while putting the phone on speaker so Jessica could hear the conversation too. 

“Wait… she’s not at home with you?!” Ace asked, suddenly starting to panic. 

“Why would she be?! Shouldn’t she be with her boyfriend?!?” Jessica exclaimed and now Blanca could feel her eyes watering because every possible scenario of you being hurt was going through her head. 

“Umm about that…”

“About WHAT?” Blanca responded knowing that Jack was somehow to blame.

“Long story short. Druski saw the two of us out together and we were planning the surprise party, but you already knew that. He took pictures, showed him to Jack and of course Jack and his trust issues assumed the absolute fucking worst and broke up with her. Like apparently he packed her bags and bought her plane ticket home without letting her explain anything. He basically thought she was cheating on him with me. I haven’t heard from her because I thought she was ignoring me! She should have been home by now! THAT WAS THREE DAYS AGO!”

“I am going to fucking kill him. How dare he hurt her like that when she was doing all of this shit for him!?”

“That’s exactly what I told him. Me and Jack haven’t talked since this whole thing happened and now… damn… I don’t want to tell him we haven’t heard from her but…”

“No, fucking tell him and then also tell him that I will cut his dick off and feed it to him for hurting my best friend. How the fuck are we even supposed to find her? Her phone is obviously dead because it keeps going to voicemail! Shit, shit, shit!”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Just.. let me call her sister Melissa. Jack really shouldn’t be worried about me or Jessica once Melissa finds out what he did. He better go in the witness protection program right along with Druski.”

After Ace had hung up with Blanca all he did was rest his head in his hands because he had no idea where to start.

Today was an off day for Jack and him, Druski, and the rest of PG were just having a day out since Jack had been moping ever since you left. He had no one to blame but himself as well as Druski, but they wanted to drag him outside to hopefully get his mind off of it. Ace was the last one to make it to the sprinter van and it was awkward as he and Jack made eye contact. Jack quickly looked down and paid attention to his phone.

“What in the world happened between you two and why are you shooting daggers at each other? Well, Ace more so than Jack.” Neelam asked, looking at the awkward exchange.

When no one responded, she asked another question.

“And where in the world is Y/N? And why did she just abruptly leave? This whole time I thought she was just umm… getting certain things together and that’s why I hadn’t seen her, but Quiiso told me otherwise.”

The tension could have been cut with a knife until Ace finally spoke up, not wanting to wait any longer since Neelam was clearly waiting for an explanation. 

“Umm, Jack, Druski just to let you know Y/N never made it home and she’s now missing since no one has heard from her. So we can thank you two for that.”

“WHAT?!” Everyone in the van exclaimed, but Jack was the loudest. His calls to you were going straight to voicemail and his texts were going unanswered but he didn’t think anything of it because you were obviously pissed at him and had a right to be.

“JACK, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!” Neelam asked while looking over at him, but had instead turned his attention to Ace to get more of an explanation. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN MISSING?!” Jack said while looking at Ace in disbelief. 

Now his head was spinning and he felt his heart beating out of his chest and he was literally trying to do his best in order to keep it together. 

“Blanca and Jessica haven't heard from her in three days and the three of them talk every day, multiple times a day and that isn’t like her. Something had to happen and if she’s hurt, you best believe that me along with Jess, Blanca, and Melissa are going to kick your ass. All of this shit could have been avoided if you would have just come to us and asked us but no what did you do? Listen to the dumbass next to you and not get all the facts.”

“But you have to admit…”

“I’m not admitting shit because nothing happened.” Ace replied while eyeing Druski who simply held up his hands in defense.

“I got an idea to get her back though!” Druski said while smiling while Jack just rolled his eyes.

“Her favorite flowers and some chocolate! Or… what if you serenade her? Luv is Dro perhaps? Come on, she can’t say no to that. Hit her with them side strokes! Gets them every time. But I mean if we’re really going for it….” Druski added and everyone now followed suit with Jack and rolled their eyes and he was cut off by Urban.

“Did your dumbass really just say that? It’s going to take a fucking miracle for her to even get her to say two words to either of you.” Urban commented while looking at him confused. Urban had tried to call you too when he found out but once again didn’t think anything of it because he knew that you were upset at his best friend and probably didn’t want to talk to him either. 

“What in the world happened for the last damn time?! Someone fill me in!” Neelam said clearly annoyed.

“Druski took it upon himself to take pictures of me and Y/N and send them to Jack with the idea that she was cheating on him with me when all we were doing was planning his birthday party, but everyone here knew that. Obviously except for him because like I said before, I’m trying to get at Blanca, but now that she has no idea where her best friend is because of me, that probably won’t go anywhere.”

“Jack….. All she literally talks about is you and how excited she was for you to see everything that she did for you. Like you should have seen how her face lit up every time someone mentioned you and Druski…. I get that you were trying to be a good friend, but you should have gotten facts first. Y/N is a true sweetheart and she’s told me how she had gotten cheated on before too and the last thing that she would do is cheat on Jack especially with one of his best friends. Now we have two single unhappy people all because of a misunderstanding, but wait… that still doesn’t tell me where she is.”

“Jack cussed her out and kicked her off the tour. Packed her bags, handed her a plane ticket and told her to be gone before he got back from his show and now her phone is obviously dead because no one has talked to her and that was three days ago.” Ace replied, finally getting the entire story from Druski last night. 

All Neelam did was hang her head in disbelief.

“I honestly don’t think you know all that she was planning and everything she went through for you. She hasn’t even met your parents or grandparents in person yet, but still reached out to them to get them to come out here for you. This has to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done and you deserve to be single.” Urban explained and all Jack did was run his hand through his curls clearly frustrated. 

Right before Blanca was going to call Melissa her phone went off indicating a facetime call from you and she immediately answered.

“OH MY GOD, DO NOT EVER FUCKING DO THAT AGAIN!” Blanca exclaimed as your face came into view and Jessica immediately ran to the phone to see that you were in fact, okay. 

“I promise, I won’t.” You quietly answered and Blanca knew what Ace had told her was true. You were at the airport and your boyfriend thought that you cheated on him.

“Okay um Ace filled me in so we don’t have to talk about that right now. But what we do need to talk about is how we’re going to get you back home. I can call your parents…”

“NO! Just….” You thought about how you told your parents all that you were doing for Jack and would ask way too many questions about why you had suddenly left him. 

“They can have the jet to you in no time! Your flight has been delayed for three days and I need to physically see you in front of me to know that you’re okay. I mean I know you aren’t, but like I said we’ll discuss it later. I’m calling Melissa and telling her we need the private jet to go and get you and do not fight me on this. I have to save my energy to fight Jack and Druski.”

Well, telling Melissa was probably the lesser of the two evils.

You were now on a flight headed home with your big sister Melissa after having to stay at the airport for another six hours and your head was currently in her lap as you continued to cry your eyes out.

“Are you going to tell me what he did or am I going to have to pull it out of you? I mean I could just ask Blanca and Jessica, but I want to hear it from you. You have barely said two words to me since I came to get you.”

After a few more sniffles, you finally said in a quiet voice,

“He accused me of cheating on him. I’m assuming he thought with Ace since that’s the only thing that really makes sense. But I have no idea how he jumped to that conclusion. All we were doing was planning his surprise party for him, but all of PG was behind it except Urban since I was going to do something for him too and fly out his younger sister. I tried to keep it from Urban too, but that kind of went out the window.”

“Oh.”

“Melissa, please do not do anything crazy. I know that you want to kill him.”

“No promises. He hurt my baby sister so his ass needs to deal with the consequences. How dare he do that and think that he’ll get away with it?”

“He packed my bags and handed me a plane ticket and basically cussed me out in not so many words.”

“His ass is in for it now. Don’t make me tell them to turn this plane around because I will. No one talks to you that way.”

“NO! I just want to go home and forget that this relationship ever happened. It’ll just be easier that way.”

“But you really like him.”

“Liked. Past tense. I don’t like men who accuse me of things without even asking me and giving me no explanation. That’s something that little boys do. I don’t want anything to do with him.”

“Well, what about the party, what’s happening with that?”

“Ace has the key to the house where it’s going to take place and will give it to the staff in the morning of his birthday so that everyone can get in. I’ll still throw it for him, but I won’t be anywhere in sight.”

“You’re better than me because his ass can fuck all the way off.”

“I just… I don’t want all my hard work to go to waste and even though he did what he did, he does deserve this because he does work so hard and I did want to do something nice for him, but best believe after this party is over, I’m blocking him.”

“Good girl, but before you do that, I need to have some choice words with him.”

“Hmm, you, Blanca, Jessica, Ace, and Panchito apparently.”

“But Panchito can’t bite Jack, he’ll be on house arrest again if he does.”

“Blanca might make an exception in this case.”

You had now been home for about a week and a half and Jack’s party would be taking place tomorrow since everything was now officially in place.

Blanca let Ace know that you were okay, but you hadn’t talked to him since everything happened either.

It was nothing against him at all, you were just still so extremely hurt by the entire thing.

Jessica had offered to make the two of you carne asada fries and you took this opportunity to unlock your phone and check your notifications. 

Jack had been blowing up your phone non-stop to the point where you had to specifically silence his notifications. All he said he wanted to do was to speak to you and apologize, but you weren’t having it. 

You would open the messages and not respond so Jack knew that you were reading them. Meanwhile, you had been in steady communication with Maggie to let her know all of the flight details and that they would have a private driver take them to the house once they landed on the airstrip. 

What you didn’t tell her was that you wouldn’t be in attendance. You were obviously good at hiding behind text messages, but if you were to see him in public, you knew that you would either want to immediately cuss him out or break down and cry or both. 

The last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of everyone, especially his parents since they hadn’t even met you in person before.

Ace promised to keep you updated about the party, but you honestly couldn’t care less. But at the same time, it would look weird if you weren’t at your “boyfriend’s” birthday party since you had basically planned the entire thing.

If you actually decided to go, you were definitely about to bring back up with you. 

Back up meaning Jessica, Blanca, and Melissa. 

You knew your heart and knew deep down that you were a good person and that your soulmate was going to make himself known when the time was right because obviously that person was not Jack as much as you wanted it to be. 

Scrolling and looking through all of the text messages that Jack sent you, you decided to send him one and you promised that this would be the last time that you ever did this. You didn’t deserve how he treated you and you damn sure weren’t about to go through that again. 

You- Have fun at your party and have a nice fucking life. Oh and happy birthday, I guess. 

And you then immediately blocked him. 

Jack woke up to seeing multiple text messages from different family and friends wishing him happy birthday, but the only person that he wanted to hear from was you and knew that was a long shot. He hadn’t been sleeping or eating properly since you left and had found out that you in fact did not cheat on him. It had gotten worse when Ace had told him that no one had heard from you.

All you’ve been doing is reading his text messages and not responding or ignoring his calls.

He definitely didn’t blame you with how you were acting towards him and knew that he deserved it. He just wanted to talk to you in person so that he could properly apologize to you. Doing it over a text message was not enough. He disrespected you to your face, so he felt that it was only right to apologize to you to your face.

He pulled out the necklace that you had gotten for him for what he assumed was one of his many birthday gifts with ‘KY’ on it. He noticed that you had left it on the dresser and opened it to see what it was. He didn’t even know if you realized that you had left it. But what were you going to do with it if you had taken it with you anyway?

He knew about the surprise party since it wasn’t really a surprise anymore since Ace had obviously told him after he had sent you home. The only thing that he wanted to do today was lay in bed and complain about missing his ex-girlfriend, but of course he couldn’t disappoint his friends and family that had come all this way to see him which he once again wasn’t supposed to know. He could finally let out a sigh of relief when Urban had told him that you finally responded to him and that you were okay. When he found out that no one had heard from you, he debated on leaving and going to your home state of New York to find you, but where would he even begin?

As much as he didn’t want to, he started to get ready since Ace had told him the time that they would be picked up from the hotel and taken to the house that was in Paris.

How fucking ironic.

You had told Jack that this was one of your favorite places in the world and couldn’t wait to be able to come here and experience it with him. It only made sense for her to have his party here. 

Now, you would never get a chance to, all because of him accusing you of cheating.

As they were pulling up to the house, Shloob’s eyes went wide looking at how big it was on the outside.

“Damn, Jack you truly are a dumbass. Look at this! Look at everything that she did for you. Sorry to call you a dumbass on your birthday, but…”

Jack didn’t even bother responding, he just stared at the text message that you had sent him a few minutes ago and attempted to send one back when he found out that you had officially blocked him.

He was actually surprised that it took you this long. 

“When your ass gets in here, you better act surprised and don’t let all her hard work go to waste.” Ace said while being the first one to hop out of the sprinter van and make his way inside. 

Jack and Urban were the last ones to make it inside and were greeted by everyone screaming happy birthday to the two of them. Deep down, Jack was hoping that you for some strange reason would still show up to the party in order for him to be able to apologize, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath.

If Melissa, Blanca, and Jessica knew, he didn’t stand a chance.

So, today he would attempt to enjoy his party and tomorrow, he was going to be on the first flight to New York and was praying that you would at least listen to what he had to say. 

He just had to get through your sister and best friends first, and he couldn’t forget about Blanca’s dog Panchito. 

Jack’s jaw was on the floor when he saw that everything in the house was Louisville themed and there was a small display that had all of the venues that Jack had performed at around Louisville with the KFC Yum Center being in the middle and being the biggest one, while on the other side was actual pictures that you had taken of Urban entitled ‘The one time the photographer let me steal his camera’ and in the middle was the banner that said Happy 25th Birthday Jack and Urban along with baby pictures of the both of them underneath it.

Ace and Neelam weren’t lying when they said that you had gone all out for him. 

Even though Urban had a hand in planning this party for Jack, he had no idea that you had been planning all of this for him too until his younger sister came from around the corner and tackled him in a bone crushing hug while Jack went to greet his parents as well as grandparents.

As he was hugging Maggie, she whispered in his ear,

“You have an amazing girlfriend and you better not do anything stupid. I like her, so where is she so I can finally meet her in person?”

Jack didn’t get a chance to answer as the lights dimmed and everyone’s attention was now on the large projector screen in the backyard and your face suddenly appeared. You had filmed this about a month ago and at the time couldn’t wait for Jack to see it, but now you wish that you would have deleted it. 

“I hope that everyone is having an amazing time since the birthday boys have finally arrived. I wanted to do something special for the both of you since I know how hard the two of you work and that deserves to be celebrated. So first off say thank you to Ace for helping me make all of this happen and Jack, I know we haven’t been dating for very long but I definitely once again thank Ace for introducing us. Since you’ve come into my life I’ve felt nothing but happiness and you have shown me how I deserve to be treated. I hope you see many more birthdays and I’m definitely blessed to be able to call you my boyfriend and how could I forget Urban? Sometimes the photographer deserves to be in front of the camera so thank you for letting me do our little photoshoot and thank you for sharing your best friend with me.”

Next was a slideshow that featured you, Jack, Urban, Neelam, Ace, 2fo, Shloob, Quiiso, Nemo, and they were all pictures from his current tour so far and ended with a picture of simply Jack and Urban when they were younger. 

Well, if he didn’t already feel shitty before, he felt it even more so now. 

Jack and Urban went around mingling with everyone from outside near the pool area and back inside near the mini Louisville display, but Urban could tell that he was distracted and almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“You’re looking for her aren’t you?” Urban whispered in his ear and Jack sighed before he simply nodded.

“Well, the night isn’t over so you never know. I… just… I hope she at least lets you apologize to her but….”

“I’ll be lucky if she even lets me do that. You didn’t see the look on her face when I basically told her to leave and… shit. I wish I could take it all back. If she has her bodyguards with her, I can forget it.”

“Wait! She has bodyguards?! Since when?!”

“Her sister and best friends and I might as well throw Panchito in there too. But at least he can’t bite me because he’ll be on house arrest again if he does.”

“But we’re in a different country so do those same rules apply?” Urban curiously asked.

“Ehh, probably not.”

Jack had gone over to talk to Bryson and was over there for a few minutes before Neelam tugged on his arm. You had sent her a text earlier in the day telling her that you were in fact in Paris and that you would be at the party. All she told you was that she would support whichever decision you made regarding Jack and it felt nice to hear her say that.

“Hmm?”

“Get Urban and go in the middle of the room, it’s time for the cake.”

Next thing Jack knew, he heard your voice singing happy birthday to him and Urban and carrying a Pokemon themed cake out to where he was. Everyone else had joined in singing with you, but Jack kept his eyes on you the entire time not believing that you were in fact standing in front of him. He looked at the outfit you were wearing and his mouth was hanging wide open. Neelam was recording the interaction as you had finally reached the middle with the two of them and waited for them to blow out the candles. 

Since the caterer that you were going to get had originally messed up the cake, it was too late to find someone else so you decided to make it yourself. It took you calling your grandmother who was vacationing in Hawaii who was not happy you had interrupted her surfing lessons, but she of course helped you anyway.

The perks of being the youngest grandchild.

And you had done it this morning when you had flown in from New York with Melissa, Jessica, and Blanca in tow.

Of course they were also there, but were standing to the side keeping a close eye on Jack as well as Druski.

Druski had made eye contact with Blanca and quickly looked away. He was going to make it his mission to hide from her for the entire night. 

Once the two of them blew out the candles, you caught Jack off guard when you reached up to kiss him and he eagerly kissed you back knowing that this was probably the last time that this would ever happen.

“Happy birthday to my favorite person in the entire universe.” You quietly said while not taking your eyes off of him and it tugged at his heart to hear you say that knowing you were only trying to keep up with the appearance of making sure everyone still thought the two of you were together.

But what Jack didn’t know is that you were being truthful in what you said. Yes, he had definitely hurt you, but up until a week and a half ago he definitely had been your favorite person in the entire universe. You just wanted to block out what happened and despite what he did wanted for him to enjoy his birthday. 

Jack made it up in his mind that he had to make it his mission to get you alone in order to properly apologize to you before the night was over. Because he knew that he might not get another opportunity. 

“Okay lovebirds! Break it up! Save it for later!”

The both of you laughed as you had then set the cake down Melissa had given each of them a knife in order to cut it.

You were a little nervous about giving her the task of handing them the knives, but she had promised you that she wasn’t going to stab Jack or Druski with them.

After they had cut the cake, different guests had whisked you away to talk to you including Jack’s family which you were actually dreading.

Not because you were nervous to meet them, but because after this, they probably weren’t going to see you anymore.

As you were talking to Maggie, Jack took this as an opportunity to come up behind you and slide his arm around your waist and kiss your cheek which you gladly accepted.

It was now or never despite his heart rate increasing and feeling as if it was about to burst out of his chest. 

“Jack, you better not let her go. I’m serious. I like this one.” Maggie said while eyeing him and he did his best to keep a playful look on his face despite knowing that he had already lost you and probably lost you for good.

“You don’t have to worry about that, but in the meantime all of you have been stealing my girlfriend all night and it’s my turn.”

“Fine, but bring her back once you’re done!”

Jack simply leaned down and whispered in your ear,

“Please let me properly apologize to you. Is there somewhere we can go where it will just be the two of us?”

You simply nodded your head.

“Come on and follow me.”

You looked behind you to make sure that no one had spotted the two of you and made your way upstairs to the bedroom that you usually occupied every time your family came to stay here.

You made sure to lock the door behind the two of you and then turned around to face Jack who had a nervous look on his face. He was wearing his glasses and you were doing your best to not fold right then and there.

“First off, thank you for doing this for me. I know it took a lot of time and effort and I’m definitely grateful because you didn’t have to.”

“You’re welcome.” You quietly said while trying to look everywhere but Jack’s eyes.

“I don’t think I can put into words how sorry I am for what I did. I was wrong to just go off what someone had said without even asking you about it. Deep down, I knew you wouldn’t cheat on me, especially with Ace. But, I admit that I got scared. That feeling of being cheated on is something that I never want to go through again and I figured if I pushed you away that there wasn’t a chance of that happening despite how much I want to be with you. I can understand if after tonight you want nothing to do with me, but I at least owe you this much and I’ll probably never forgive myself for the way I talked to you because you definitely didn’t deserve that. I just…. There honestly isn’t an excuse for it. And the fact that you were M.I.A. for three days because of me too and I…” 

“I appreciate the apology.”

“And thank you for still keeping the persona of us still being together when we were downstairs.”

“Of course, but I meant what I said.” At this point, there was no reason to lie. 

“Meant what?”

“That you were still my favorite person in the universe despite what you did and I feel so stupid for saying that. I cared about you so much and I still do! I flew from New York for you at 2 am so I could make your cake for you because the caterer had messed it up so it would be ready in time! And…” 

You couldn’t help but start to cry and Jack didn’t know if it was okay to step towards you or not, but he did anyway.

As much as you wanted to push him away, you didn’t.

“I don’t deserve that title, maybe I did two weeks ago, but not now.”

“As much as this hurts for me to say, despite how much I just want to be with you and forgive you and forget this entire thing ever happened, I honestly don’t know if I can.”

Now it was Jack’s turn for his eyes to begin to water, but he knew the moment that you agreed to talk to him that this would probably be the end result. 

“I understand.”

“I wish we could go back in time and change the past, but we can’t. I’m surprised that I’m actually this calm and didn’t know how I was going to react when I saw you. But, Jack, I am not her and I would have never hurt you that way. I know about your trust issues and all I honestly wanted to do is show you that love does exist and that you deserve to have it.”

“And I know that now.”

“We’re probably better off as friends.” You confessed without looking at him and you didn’t know if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

“I… please Y/N, we both know that’s not going to work. I understand why you feel as though you don’t want to give me another chance and I know I damn sure probably don’t deserve it, but if you give me one, I promise that nothing like that will ever happen again. I know this might not seem like the best time to do this, but I was hoping that you would come so I could give this to you...” Jack then pulled a jewelry box from his back pocket and your eyes went wide as he opened it. 

“It’s a promise ring and I was going to give it to you before everything happened. It’s only been three months, but the best three months that I could have ever asked for. If you give me another chance, I will spend the rest of our lives making this up to you.”

You were speechless. 

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[starjaeyun]

PINK !

— hanamaki dyes his hair pink when he finds out that it's your favorite color

includes! hanamaki takahiro x fem! reader

warnings! profanity, the seijoh 4 are in their 1st year in this

note! i'm not too sure whether or not pink-brown is hanamaki's natural hair color but i came up with this little delusion and i invite all of u to join me in it 😘😻❤ and i definitely did not write this because i am obsessed w/ pink hehehehehe 🥰

friday

hanamaki hates the color pink. and the whole volleyball club was well aware of this, especially his fellow 1st years. he made sure to remind them how much he hates that color whenever they told him that he would look good in it.

"makki! are you still considering to dye your hair? there's a new salon that just opened up recently! we should check it out, i read great reviews about it online!" now that oikawa brought it up he remembers that he was yet to pick a color to dye his hair into

"yeah, i am. though i'm not sure about the color yet" he explains, "and no i will not dye it pink" he adds upon seeing the similar expression the other three had

"i don't blame you for not wanting to dye it pink" iwaizumi starts, "i heard pink is a hard color to look good in"

oikawa raised his brow, "and where did you hear that? knowing you, you're not the type to look such things up"

"y/n told me about it"

of course, they were also well aware of hanamaki's huge crush on iwaizumi's classmate, whom he met on their first day of volleyball practice when she gave iwaizumi his water bottle that he left in their classroom

"nice try, not gonna work this time" hanamaki flashed him a sarcastic smile and continued munching on his onigiri

"i'm not kidding though. that woman is obsessed with pink even i'm starting to think her blood is pink and glittery"

monday

hanamaki makes his way to the gym, still sleepy and not fully awake for morning practice. he hears a group of people, obviously the rest of seijoh, talking so loudly inside. he yawns, "why do they sound more energetic than usual?"

and it was like he was showered with ice cold water when he opened the doors. because what the fuck were you doing there? and happily chatting with the coaches?!

"YOU DYED YOUR HAIR WITHOUT ME?!" oikawa's loud and annoying— as described by iwaizumi, matsukawa and hanamaki— voice echos through the gym

matsukawa and iwaizumi bursts out laughing, "and don't you hate pink?" oikawa, who was now pouting, adds

at his words, you let out an offensive gasp, "hanamaki hates pink?!" now you were starting to walk towards him along with the other first years, "but why?! pink suits you! i told iwa-chan many times that pink would suit you!"

hanamaki doesn't know where all his nervousness went but he was thankful that it decided to leave, "ah...i don't really hate it, i think it's alright"

the trio looks at him with a raised brow, "you told us last friday that you hate—" hanamaki coughs to interrupt matsukawa's sentence and as if luck was on his side, coach mizoguchi called for you to come over the benches

"what's she doing here?" he asked as he watched your retreating figure, "she applied for as our manager" iwaizumi explains while still giving hanamaki a judging look

"could you guys quit looking at me like that?!"

hanamaki hates the color pink

"we've been convincing you to dye your hair pink for more than a month and one mention of y/n-chan loving pink was all it took for you to actually dye it pink?!" oikawa's complains fell on deaf ears as they walked to their teammates

hanamaki hates the color pink. but if he had to dump pink paint all over himself for you to notice him, he would gladly do so

© starjaeyun on tumblr | do not steal, copy, translate or repost