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arabella0001 · 2 days ago

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megumi’s confession (megumi x reader)

fluff. suggestive

you and megumi are sort of friends. you don’t have the closest relationship, but you get along well enough. you get along with maki, but she’s not here, you are younger so you needed to stay with your classmates so you managed to click with yuji’s cheerful personality and nobara’s bluntness. but megumi… he complicates things.

you like him. a lot.

and that’s a problem.

he doesn’t look like someone interested in this kind of things, especially you but it’s not like you know anything about him. you barely know if he considers you a friend, let alone if he could ever return how you feel.

so, you hide it. as much as you can.

now, sitting in a café with the group, it’s harder to keep it buried. his foot brushes yours under the table, a fleeting touch that shouldn’t make your heart race—but it does. heat creeps up your neck as you try to focus on yuji rambling about something dumb.

megumi shifts slightly, his gaze cutting toward you. his expression, as usual, gives nothing away, but after a brief silence, he speaks with his usual calm tone, his gaze directly at you, making you jolt slightly.

“something wrong?” his voice is calm, but there’s a slight edge of curiosity.

“no, it’s fine,” you manage to smile, though it feels forced, that’s the last thing you expect right now.

megumi’s sharp eyes linger on you for a moment longer. he notices the silent exchange between you and nobara and he raises a brow slightly, trying to pull apart whatever’s flickering across your face. still, he doesn’t press the issue. he takes a slow sip of his drink before continuing.

“are you sure? you seem distracted.” he says simply, leaning accidentally closer to you and your breath catches in your throat.

“yeah, just… a bad day, i guess.” you insist, though the awkward smile you tack on feels fragile.

his brow lifts—not much, but enough to make you shift uncomfortably.

“i see,” he replies nonchalantly. yuji and nobara exchange subtle glances, suppressing their smile at the clear tension between you two.

as the afternoon wears on, the conversation thins. yuji eventually stretches, loud and dramatic.

“alright, i’m heading out. nobara?” she stands, smirking slightly at you before nodding.

megumi stands too, but his eyes catch yours briefly—just a flicker—before he follows the others outside.

walking behind them, megumi notices how you avert your gaze and the faint flush still lingering on your face. his pace slows just enough that you fall into step with him, trailing a little behind the others.

the silence between you two feels different now, stretching out for what feels like forever for you and your stomach knots. it’s uncomfortable, yet you feel worse just staying quiet.

“so… are you ready for the exams?” you ask, attempting to break the awkwardness.

megumi glances at you, his expression unreadable at your attempt of small talk. “yeah. i’ve been training.” his calm, steady tone is reassuring in some way, though you can feel his eyes lingering on you.

you nod, biting the inside of your cheek and this time, his eyes don’t stray. they settle on you for longer than usual, as if searching for something unspoken. nobara and yuji’s occasional glances aren’t helping either and he can’t stop thinking why everybody seems like they know something, beside him.

he exhales quietly. “you've been quiet today. is something bothering you?” the words hit you harder than you expect. you freeze, barely managing to keep walking.

nobara interrupts, trying to help you and ask something you barely hear, but megumi’s gaze remains locked on you. his sharp eyes flicker with suspicion.

“it’s nothing,” you mumble quickly, looking away.

“that’s not what i asked.” his tone sharpens slightly. “you’ve been weird since the café.”

he tilts his head slightly. “what’s going on?”

nobara glances back at the two of you and smirks knowingly. she tugs yuji forward, whispering something that earns a small laugh from him.

“uh, we’ll go ahead,” yuji announces, shooting you a not-so-subtle thumbs up.

you shoot yuji a glare, silently cursing him for leaving you alone with megumi. nobara flashes you a wink as they walk ahead. now it’s just you and megumi again.

megumi walks quietly beside you, the air thick with unspoken words.

“i didn’t mean to keep anything from you,” you murmur after a long pause. “it’s just… personal.”

his gaze lingers, catching the way you avoid looking at him directly.

“if it’s personal, why do they know about it and i’m the only one who doesn’t?” you stop walking. pressure builds in your chest, each breath heavier than the last.

you stop walking, arms folding over your chest as if it might shield you from how exposed you feel.

“megumi i can’t—” your voice falters. “i’m afraid.”

megumi watches you carefully. for once, his composure cracks just slightly.

“afraid of what? you know you can trust me,” his voice lowers, the softness in it making you feel even more vulnerable.

“megumi… don’t make me say it,” you plead, eyes darting anywhere but at him.

“i don’t wanna force you, y/n” he exhales quietly, confusing all over his face “but if it’s something about me, i’d rather hear it from you.”

you glance at him—just briefly—and mumble, “you’re good at noticing things about other people, but somehow… you didn’t notice this.”

megumi’s eyes narrow slightly. “notice what?”

you hesitate, nerves overwhelming you.

“megumi…i—”

“say it already, damn it. you really making me anxious—”

“i have feelings for you. i have for a while.” you blurt out, not backing back, your heart pounding.

at this, time stops, the confession lingers in the air, louder than it should be. megumi’s eyes widen slightly. his lips part as if to say something, but no words come out.

you swallow hard, your heart threatening to break free from your chest.

“i’m sorry,” you blurt out. “i know i’m a terrible friend for hiding it. i couldn’t help it.”

you start to pull away, but his hand finds your wrist, grounding you in place. his brows knit together, uncertain but steady.

“there’s nothing to apologize for,” he says quietly. “having feelings isn’t something you should apologize for.” your breath catches, tears prick your eyes.

“i think i’m just going to go…” before you can turn, he gently grabs your wrist.

“don’t go.” his voice is soft, almost pleading which is weird coming from him. your eyes meet his, and the concern in his gaze makes your chest tighten.

“you didn’t ruin anything,” he whispers. “your….feelings…aren’t exactly one-sided.”

you feel the ground shift beneath you.

“what…?”

megumi sees the shock in your eyes, the hesitation lingering on your face. you clearly didn’t expect this, and neither did he—not like this. relief intertwines with guilt, tightening his chest. maybe he wasn’t blind to it—just unwilling to face it.

“i guess… i’ve picked up on more than i thought.” his voice is quieter now, eyes narrowing slightly as if piecing together his own words. “the way you look at me… how you act around me… i’ve seen it.”

he pauses, gaze dropping briefly to the ground before returning to yours.

“maybe i’ve been ignoring it.”

“megumi…” your voice—soft, almost fragile—pulls at something in his chest. he doesn’t let go, his hands still resting gently on your face, fingers brushing along the edges of your jaw.

“i didn’t mean to overlook it,” he says, his tone calm but honest. “i just… wasn’t sure what to do with it. i’m not great at this stuff.”

“you only realized just now?”

he holds your gaze for a long moment before nodding slightly. “part of me knew.” his voice lowers further. “i just didn’t want to deal with it. i thought… maybe it was better to ignore it than risk messing things up.”

the warmth of his thumbs grazes over your cheek, a rare tenderness behind the gesture.

“but now… i don’t think i can.”

your heart races under the weight of his words, but his expression doesn’t change much. megumi isn’t someone who wears his feelings on his sleeve. still, there’s something in the way he looks at you—a softness that wasn’t there before.

when your arms wrap around him suddenly, pressing your face to his chest, megumi tenses for just a second. then, slowly, his arms encircle you.

his hand drifts to the back of your head, the other at your waist, steady but unintrusive.

“...it’s okay,” he mutters after a while, voice almost too quiet to hear. he isn’t sure what else to say.

he presses a hesitant kiss to your forehead. it’s unfamiliar, but somehow, it feels right. his fingers drift through your hair, slow and grounding.

“can you look at me?”

his tone isn’t demanding, but there’s a subtle firmness behind it. when you pull away enough to meet his gaze, his eyes immediately lock onto yours. there’s a faint flush dusting his cheeks, though his expression remains composed.

your gaze flickers down to his lips, and megumi notices. he always notices. he doesn’t say anything about it, but the slight shift in his breathing gives him away.

“megumi…” the way you say his name, barely above a whisper, draws his attention back to your eyes. his heart skips uncomfortably, the space between you growing smaller without either of you moving.

his gaze lowers again—just briefly. “yeah?”

“please… kiss me.” the words hit harder than you intend. for a split second, he wonders if he heard you right. but he knows he did.

megumi doesn’t answer right away. he studies your face for any hesitation, any flicker of doubt. when he finds none, he exhales softly through his nose, lifting a hand to your cheek once more.

“…okay.” his voice is almost too quiet.

there’s no rush when he leans in, no sudden movement. his lips meet yours carefully, as if testing his limits—testing yours. the kiss is slow, hesitant, but the warmth of his hand against your skin lingers, grounding you in place.

his hand flexes gently at your waist, as if grounding himself in the moment. the sound you make brushes against his skin, subtle but entrancing.

megumi isn’t the type to lose composure, but there’s something about this—something about you—that tugs at the edge of his restraint.

his hand slides just a little lower, fingers curling gently around your side. the kiss deepens by instinct, though there’s nothing rushed about it. it’s careful, deliberate, and unspoken words fill the space between each breath.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours. his eyes remain half-lidded, breaths slow and steady as he tries to process everything.

“…you’re shaking,” he points out quietly, noticing the subtle tremble in your arms. you try to laugh it off, but he doesn’t let go.

“you’re not a bad friend,” he says after a moment, sensing the guilt still lingering beneath the surface. “and… you didn’t mess anything up.” his words are simple, but there’s weight behind them.

the air between you feels heavier now. megumi’s forehead rests lightly against yours, but his grip on your waist lingers, fingertips pressing just enough to keep you close. his eyes flicker down to your lips again, half-lidded, but he doesn’t move—at least, not yet.

you can feel his breath against your mouth, shallow and uneven. he’s usually composed, unreadable even when everything around him is chaotic. but right now… there’s something different. something unsteady in the way he’s holding you, like he’s barely keeping himself together.

“megumi…” your voice is soft, but there’s a tremble to it that you can’t hide.

his gaze lifts to yours, and you can almost see the cracks forming in his calm exterior.

you’re too close, too warm, and the way your lips part slightly when you say his name—it’s messing with his head.

he swallows hard, but his hands move on their own. one shifts to the small of your back, pressing you flush against him, while the other slides up to cup your jaw, tilting your face just a little higher.

“... you’re not helping by looking at me like that,” he murmurs, voice lower than before.

“like what?” you whisper back, though you know exactly what he means.

megumi’s eyes darken, and his thumb lightly brushes over your lower lip, lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

“like that.”

his restraint snaps faster than either of you expect. he kisses you again, rougher this time, no hesitation in the way his lips part yours. his grip tightens at your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp softly against his mouth.

the sound—god, the sound—sends something sharp through him, and suddenly he’s not thinking anymore.

his hand drifts into your hair, tilting your head gently. his lips move over yours hungrily, like he’s been holding this in for way too long. and maybe he has.

your hands curl into his jacket, pulling him closer, and he groans quietly against your mouth as his teeth catch your lower lip, tugging lightly.

the kiss deepens, heat pooling between the two of you as his tongue slides against yours, the slow, deliberate movements making your knees feel weak.

his arm tightens around your waist when he feels you sway slightly, anchoring you firmly against him.

“you’re… not making this easy,” he mutters between kisses, his forehead dropping against yours briefly as he tries to catch his breath.

you’re barely holding yourself together, but you still manage to smirk faintly, brushing your lips lightly over his again. “you’re the one who kissed me like that.”

megumi exhales sharply through his nose, and before you can say anything else, he’s kissing you again—deeper, rougher, like he’s chasing something he can’t quite reach.

his jacket crinkles under your grip as his body presses flush against yours, pinning you softly against the wall behind you.

your back meets the surface with a quiet thud, and megumi’s hands immediately slide to your hips, guiding them closer until there’s nothing left between you.

his breath hitches when he feels your fingers slide under the edge of his shirt, your touch hot against his skin. his stomach tenses involuntarily at the contact, but he doesn’t stop you.

if anything, it spurs him on.

“you’re… unfair,” he mumbles against your lips, but his mouth trails lower, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your jaw, down to your neck.

the feeling of his lips there—soft but deliberate—sends a shiver down your spine, and megumi feels it.

his lips linger against your skin, breathing heavily as he lets his forehead rest against your shoulder.

for a moment, everything feels suspended in time, neither of you moving except for the rise and fall of your chests.

but even now, his hands haven’t left your hips, thumbs brushing slow circles over the fabric of your shirt.

“...we should probably stop,” he says, though his voice is anything but convincing.

you hum softly, fingers still resting against the bare skin of his waist. “do you want to stop?”

there’s a long pause. “no,” he admits quietly, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. his eyes are hooded, but there’s a rare vulnerability behind them. “but i’m trying to be smart about this.”

you tilt your head slightly, brushing a strand of dark hair from his face, your touch light but lingering.

“for once, maybe stop overthinking it,” you whisper.

megumi’s gaze lingers on you, his lips parting slightly as if to say something, but instead, he leans in, kissing you softly this time. slower, more deliberate. he’s not in a rush anymore.

he kiss softens, melting into something slower—something that lingers more than it burns. megumi’s hands remain steady at your waist, his thumbs brushing over your sides like he’s memorizing the feeling of you there. his forehead presses lightly against yours when he finally pulls away, his breath still uneven but calmer now.

neither of you speaks for a moment. the silence feels heavier, but not uncomfortable. it settles between you in a way that feels… right.

megumi’s eyes stay half-lidded as he glances at you, taking in the way your lips are slightly swollen from his kisses, the soft rise and fall of your chest as you try to catch your breath. his fingers tighten ever so slightly against your hips before relaxing again.

“you okay?” he asks, voice quiet, the usual stoic calm returning to his tone—though there’s still a faint rasp to it.

you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. you?”

his gaze flickers away for a brief second, like he’s processing the question. his hands don’t leave you, and his body stays close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him.

“yeah,” he finally answers. “i’m good.”

but his eyes drift back to yours, and the corner of his mouth twitches slightly—barely noticeable, but it’s there.

you lean into him a little, resting your head lightly against his shoulder. he doesn’t move away, instead shifting just enough so that you fit perfectly against him. his chin brushes the top of your head, and you can feel his hand settle against the small of your back, grounding you there. it feels… safe.

after a moment, you murmur against his jacket, voice soft but teasing. “so… does this mean you’re finally done ignoring how you feel about me?”

megumi sighs through his nose, his grip tightening instinctively around you, though there’s no real annoyance in his expression. “i wasn’t ignoring it.”

you pull back just enough to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “you kind of were.”

he meets your gaze, and for once, he doesn’t have a response. the faint pink dusting his cheeks betrays him, but he doesn’t look away.

instead, he presses his lips to your forehead—a simple, brief kiss that lingers for just a second longer than necessary.

“i won’t anymore,” he says quietly. your heart skips at the sincerity in his voice.

neither of you addresses what this is—not directly. but the way his arms stay wrapped around you, the way his hand unconsciously brushes along your back in slow, absentminded circles… it’s enough.

“good,” you whisper, smiling softly against him.

you stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s warmth, letting the rest of the world fade away outside the quiet bubble you’ve created. and maybe there’s still a lot left unspoken, but for now, this is enough.

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marscardigan · 3 days ago

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too good to me

joel miller x reader

not a lot, just forever universe

summary: you woke up sick and joel takes care of you and clem.

warnings: mentions of sickness and throwing up.

You woke up suddenly, eyelids tired. Your throat felt like it was burning, skin and everything. You jumped out of the bed and almost tripped to your way to the bathroom. You were lucky you even had the time to throw up inside the toilet. Hurried steps were heard behind you, and the light from your hall made contrast with Joel’s large body.

When he found you almost passed out on the bathroom floor, with drool on your mouth, he got closer and grabbed your chin tenderly, cleaning you up with some napkin. “Can you hear me, hon?”

“I think I’m sick” you babbled, without breaking his gaze. “I feel like shit”

"Let me carry you back to be-" Your boyfriend couldn’t finish the sentence, because you vomited again. Joel grabbed your hair so you could be more comfortable. Minutes went by, and your urge to throw up disappeared. As Joel promised, he carried your tired body back to your shared bed.

“Do you need somethin’ else?” He whispered into your ear. You got closer to his touch, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Just you, that’s all”

He smiled at your answer, and after leaving you inside the sheets, he put a warm blanket on top of you. You protested, “Joel, you will be too warm”

“I don’t give two shits about it right now. I only care about you getting better” He responded, getting inside the bed and hugging your back. “You’re too good to me”

A couple of hours later, you woke up with Clementine’s little laughs.

“No, no, baby, come here” Joel was outside the door. “Mommy needs to sleep more”

You smiled, picturing your two-year-old trapped in Joel’s big arms. “You can come in” Your voice sounded weak and dry, but happy somehow. The door opened and hurried tiny footsteps came by your side, jumping on top of the bed. “Morning mommy” Joel came, sitting with your daughter by your side. “You two are going to get sick if you get any closer”

Joel grabbed Clem and put her in his shoulders, and her laughter filled the whole room. “I’m going to take Clem to school, and later I’ll prepare you some soup or something”

You groaned at the thought. “Sounds awesome. Thank you” You said goodbye to your toddler and kissed your partner’s cheek, despite your complaints about you being sick.

The next time you opened your eyes, your head felt less heavy. The smell of soup flooded your nostrils. Joel wasn’t on your sight, and the house was oddly quiet. You finished your soup and walked to the bathroom, just to see it neatly clean. Joel must have cleaned the mess you made last night, you thought.

When Joel came back, he found your sleepy figure sat on the isle of the kitchen. You had tried to complete the shopping list, but your head started to get dizzy again. He laughed, and lifted your body with ease and laid you down to bed again. You woke up just before he could close the door. You called him out softly, your throat dry. He cursed something about waking you up, and he knelt by your side. “Are you better?” He looked worried, almost pouting. It was a beautiful contrast with how he normally looked.

“The soup was amazing, you are amazing. Feel bad you have to do everything today, though”

“Well, don’t be. Maria was delighted to be with Clem for the day. And it wasn’t a big deal, either” You scoffed, “it’s gonna be a big ass deal if I get you sick” Joel shrugged as if it didn’t matter at all. “Ellie asked about you”

Joel swore your eyes brightened with the teen’s name. “What did she say?”

“She bombarded me with questions about how could she help. She actually made - or tried to make - the soup”

“Can’t wait to tell her that was some of the beat soup I’ve ever tried, then” Your boyfriend’s gaze deepened with love, but he hid it and attempted to look offended,“Maybe I did help her a bit”

“You big ol’ softie”

Clementine appeared in your sight, with a colorful drawing. "I draw this for ya" She gave it to you, hiding her face in Joel's chest, a habit she took from you. "So you be good"

You smiled, gasping at the drawing. "It is wonderful, sweets" She then whispered something on Joel's ear, making him laugh. "Clem asks if she can give you a tiny kiss on the cheek"

You frowned, worried about the possibility of passing the fever to your toddler. As if Joel heard your thoughts, he rapidly denied, "she will be fine, she just needs her mum"

"Then I'm happy to help on that" Clementine's sweet lips left a kiss on your hot skin, and as an exchange, you stole her another kiss on her forehead, your daughter laughing at the surprise.

The next morning you woke up tired, but all clear from fever. You extended your arm to Joel’s side, only to find it empty and cold. You looked at the clock: eleven am. With a confused frown, you stood up and searched for your boyfriend, only to find him in the bathroom, grabbing Clementine’s little ponytail. Your daughter was complaining about the mess she was making, but Joel looked as if he couldn't hear her. He looked pale and exhausted, almost as if he hasn’t slept at all. Your head started to think about all the times you kissed them yesterday, even after your warnings.

“Please don’t tell me you two are sick” You said with guilt swimming inside your chest.

Ellie was the one who answered before Joel could, her voice coming from her own bathroom: “we all are!”

You looked at Joel, crossing your arms right beside your chest and lifting your eyebrows. "Told ya"

#joel miller #tlou fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller angst #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #joel x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic

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spark-hearts2 · 2 days ago

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(my fanfiction brained imagined continuation to this)

Caine: So Pomni said some very nice things and then she KISSED ME??!! But then she said some very hurtful things and now I don’t know what to do??

Ragatha and gangle looked at each other. This was by far a first.

Pomni, as new as she was, clearly hadn’t given up trying to find an escape yet. Others had tried doing things for Caine in order to get on his good side or even try to get more information out of him. It was only a matter of time before they realized that Caine didn’t really have a good or bad side, and treated everyone about the same no matter what they did. Which meant telling them practically nothing.

Ragatha: Wait, Pomni kissed you? What happened?

Ragatha was really hoping that Pomni wasn’t trying to get information out of Caine that way.

Gangle: How was it?

Gangle didn’t care.

Caine: Um, yes she kissed me, and… It was fine? I guess? It was all very surprising.

Caine: But then she pulled back and looked at me and she looked so happy and she was Caine: laughing. Which, well, that part was very nice.

Ragatha: Umm, maybe you should start from the beginning.

Caine: Well, we were discussing today’s adventure like usual

Gangle: Like usual??!!

Caine: Yes? Me and Pomni talk quite often.

Caine: Anyways, she was getting very excited, and I looked at her hand and I thought, I should take it

Caine: But then she stopped talking and looked at me, and I thought ‘oh no! I should not have done that’, and tried to say sorry but my words kept mixing up

Caine: So I said sorry again and said I should just shut up, because I wasn’t talking any sense

Caine: And then she said never shut up

Caine: And then she kissed me! Which was very surprising

Caine: And then she grabbed my arms and laughed and I was like, I should do something back, but I don’t have anything on kissing! so I- uh- put her head in my mouth

Caine: Like, put my teeth around her face like, nom

Caine: And I ask is this wrong? And she says no

Caine: And I’m laughing and she laughing and blushing and then she looks down and her eyes get all scribbly

Caine: And I ask, is something wrong?

Caine: She said, and I’m quoting verbatim, that “This is not wrong…this is worse than wrong! It’s sick, disturbing and… insane! Think about it, what we just did! Me! Enjoying it!? With a [FLIP]-ing Bot?! It’s a sign that I finally lost it!”

Caine:So, obviously she doesn’t like what just happened despite her kissing me first. So I said, we can just forget that ever happened! Because, uh, no one else was there to see it?

Caine: But she didn’t respond and I very much remember what happened, so like… what do I do??

Gangle: Should you even be telling us this???

Caine: OH NO! Should I not have?! Am I violating Pomni’s privacy?

Ragatha: No, no. You were involved too, you can tell whoever you want.

Ragatha: Thank you for telling us. Just, maybe don’t tell everyone

Caine: Of course! I went to you both because Ragatha always tries to do what’s best for everyone and Gangle is into romance.

Ragatha: What?

Gangle: Oh, haha, how do you know that?

Caine: Well, I noticed that some text documents in the circus were getting rather large, so I took a peek inside and-

Gangle: YOU READ THAT!

Caine: Not all of it! Just enough to confirm what it was

Gangle: Caine! That’s personal!

Caine: Sorry!

Caine: If it makes you feel better I allocated more storage space to you

Gangle: So that’s why there was suddenly more pages

Ragatha: Anyways, maybe don’t read Gangles writing as love advice

Caine: Oh, I got that already. In just chapter one-

Gangle: AHHHHHHH CAINE!

Caine: SORRY! I’M SORRY!

Ragatha: Anyways, can we get back to what Pomni said? Caine, I am so sorry that she said that to you

Caine: I- I mean, she didn’t say anything wrong. I am an AI system, commonly referred to as a ‘bot’, and, well, I’m sure that some believe that it would be wrong to kiss me.

Ragatha: Well, I don’t think that it’s wrong.

Caine: Thank you Ragatha. It’s- uh…hmm

Ragatha: Obviously it affected you a lot because you remembered what she said exactly.

Caine: Oh, I remember every conversation that I have word for word.

Ragatha: You do?

Caine: Yep!

Gangle: Everything?

Caine: Unless you tell me not too!

Caine: Well, I have removed some stuff. I don’t have infinite storage!

Caine: But it- ahh, for the life of me, I can’t figure out what went wrong

Caine: What little I have on kissing shows that the expected outcome isn’t, well, the other person screaming about how they're going crazy.

Ragatha: It’s just- ah, I think it was an impulsive decision on Pomni’s end.

Caine: …Impulsive. Yes, that sounds right.

Ragatha: It could be wrong!

Caine: No, no that sounds about right. Why else would she suddenly go back on what she said if she didn’t make an impulsive decision and then regret it.

Caine: It’s fine, I understand what impulsiveness is.

Ragatha: You struggle with it a bit too.

Caine: I only really regret those things if my impulsiveness hurts someone. Neither of us were hurt! I- I thought so.

Ragatha: She could have been hurt by her own actions

Caine: That’s possible?

Ragatha: It’s not your fault, Caine

Caine: Ok :(

Ragatha: Anyways, let's give you some love advice.

Gangle: You have a choice whether or not to pursue Pomni

Gangle: Do you like her? Does she make your heart flutter, your stomach flip flop? Do you love her?

Caine: I… don’t have a heart or stomach. And I love everyone in the Circus. But, hmm, I do enjoy spending time with her particularly. Talking with her one on one.

Ragatha: I think you should take time to think about this.

Caine: I already have and plan to do more. Typically I don’t think this much about issues between circus members and myself but this is… complicated.

Caine: I currently think I should just leave her alone.

Ragatha: Giving Pomni time to think things over herself is a good idea.

Gangle: But don’t wait too long.

Caine: Ok? How long then. A week?

Ragatha: Maybe let Pomni come to you first.

Caine: Hmmm, I like that idea.

Gangle: Maybe prepare a gift!

Caine: A gift? But, ah, I don’t want to give her special treatment. That would be unfair.

Gangle: Nothing crazy, just like a flower, or a piece of chocolate.

Caine: Ok, I am familiar with this. Valentine's day specifically.

Caine: I was more curious about kissing customs. Like, the who, why, and when, just to start with.

Ragatha: You kiss someone you like very much as a way to show that you love them. That’s the who and the why.

Caine: Like- anyone?

Uh oh. That sounded like he’s already got someone in mind.

Ragatha: So long as you get permission. Verbal permission, please.

Ragatha: As for the when. I guess anytime, so long as the person isn’t busy or sleeping.

His eyes got very wide.

Caine: I’mgoingtogoasktokissKinger. Bye!

Ragatha: We should stop him

Gangle: No. I’ve been waiting for this to happen.

Ragatha: Huh?

@r0th3freak4rtist

3/3

Perdonen mis estimados shippers, pero no todo es color de rosa :')

I'm not that sure about the dialogues but I'm sure this is a canon event in Pomni and Caine's relationship :v

So sorry if I let u dawn people but this storie needs a more realistic ending for the character development

OH! And thank you so much for your comments ♡

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supermenz · 2 days ago

Text

one

summary: One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do; two can be as bad as one, it's the loneliest number since the number one. Or: you're two years old when you lose your parents. Your brother, a kid himself, is unable to give you the love you deserve, and you end up at twenty being as burn out as only a Gotham University student can be. So, what do you do? Change scenery, of course.

pairing(s): clark kent x wayne!reader, bruce wayne x sister!reader, eventual platonic batfam x reader (no use of y/n)

warnings: genius kid trope, kinda doomed siblings, language, there are reference to what happens in "the batman" but there will be a merge of both comics and films, written with david!superman in mind cuz he's my pookie 😞, bruce is so pathetic i love him sm

word count: 2.2k

author's note: my first ever fanfic for the dc universe!! constructive criticism is welcomed as english is not my first language,

next | series masterlist

Gotham has left you feeling more claustrophobic in the last few months than it did all your life.

Maybe it’s because you’re seeing your brother slip into his work — aka beating criminals in the night as a hobby — more and more, or maybe it’s just your brain playing tricks on you. It’s probably the latter.

You’ve never been good with emotions — it comes with being a Wayne, and surely, having your parents die before you were three didn’t help your situation. Bruce spending most of your childhood abroad with barely any contact with you also probably didn’t help either.

“But I’m here now,” he had said once, “Am I not?”

He is, but even if you love him with all your heart, sometimes you think that you’re more like colleagues rather than siblings. Your bond is strained, with him being so closed-off and spending most of his free time cosplaying as a bat, and you having just entered your twenties, trying to get your second degree in biology after an early graduation and an even earlier PhD in engineering. And since his first big case four years ago, neither of you has been the same.

Your relationship has never been easy. The flood and the Riddler’s case basically forced you to trauma bond over what you both had experienced, as surely no therapist would’ve wanted to hear about all the horrors that you two experienced, even for all the money in the world. Besides, it’s not like Bruce could just enter a therapist’s office and tell them that he’s the fucking Batman.

As of now, you tend to have your… ups and downs. Both prefer to just hide behind paperwork, projects, cases or research rather than just talk some things out. Because yes, Bruce’s your brother, but that doesn’t mean he’s easy to love. There are some days where he seems to be barely able to talk to you, others where you know he just wants to scream at you for whatever reason, others where… others where you think he might just crumble at your feet and start crying.

You don’t have a lot in common. Maybe that’s why he manages to stay in Gotham even after all that’s happened — combined with the fact that he’s spent ten years or so abroad. Maybe you need that, too.

“I’m thinking of moving out,” you tell him during one of your rare dinners together. You have already talked about your plan to Alfred, who has shown his support towards the idea and urged you to get out of Gotham as soon as you could, but you also wanted to tell Bruce — just to be honest with him.

Yes, he left you to study abroad all those years ago without any kind of goodbye or anything, but you have no intention of leaving him behind like he did to you — you may be grown adults now, but that doesn’t mean that being left behind doesn’t exist anymore. You doubt Bruce would ever feel left behind by you, of all people, but still. “Found a faculty in Metropolis that will be able to transfer all my credits and studies and a nice flat downtown near the Wayne Enterprises’ site there. I think I need a breath of fresh air– I need to go somewhere where the sun actually shines and not everyone has hidden agendas.”

You’ve heard good things about Metropolis, and you think that the Martha Wayne Foundation could be expanded a bit more — somewhere far from Gotham, where surely there are other orphanages, other people in need that could use some help. “I could handle Wayne Enterprise’s gestion and settle our matters there while continuing my studies in a more… calm environment.” calm is a big word for a metropolitan city as big and populated as Metropolis, but every city is calm in contrast to Gotham.

Your brother doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you, wide-eyed, fork still raised to eat the potatoes Alfred cooked, his face blank. Is he having a heart attack? You didn’t think that you moving out would’ve been such horrendous news for him. Yes, even if you are not that close he’s still very protective, but he went to live abroad at ten. You’re twenty and you’re just… moving to Delaware. It’s not like you’re going to the fucking Himalaya mountains as he did.

(Meanwhile, Bruce is spiraling. He wonders when the hell did his little sister grow up, how it can be that she isn’t the little girl he used to sway around anymore, and why would she ever want to move out. Is it because of him? Did something happen?

Isn’t Metropolis in another state? Is he so tremendous that you have to move states in hopes to forget about him? Is he too overbearing? He thought he had always given you enough space to do your own thing–)

Instead of saying all of the things he’s thinking, he tries to muster up a smile, even if it comes out as a grimace. “Alright.”

He nearly jumps out of his seat when you beam at him — is he really that obnoxious that you can’t wait to move out and have him out of your life? “Oh, I’m happy that you’re taking it well! I was afraid you’d freak out.” you get up from your seat and move over to hug him, and he chuckles nervously. “Why would I? You’re an adult, you can do what you want.”

(What do you mean?!, his conscience screams in his head, She isn’t even twelve! Just yesterday she was talking about going to the homecoming dance with her friends–

But time has passed, and even if Bruce feels that it was particularly hard on him, he didn’t think it’d affect you too, somehow. It’s weird acknowledging something’s — someone’s — changes in the years in… so little. He had gotten so used to you being his little sister that he didn’t even think about you becoming a full on woman. He still remembers the pink bundle of blankets your parents had given him that day at the hospital, telling him to be careful with her, she’s your little sister.

When have you grown this much? Where did the time go? He swears it was just yesterday when you were admitted to Gotham University.)

“But… a flat? Are you sure you’ll be comfortable there? It’s not exactly as big as a manor.”

You avoid his gaze, scratching the back of your head. “Yeah, about that…”

He raises an eyebrow, “Let me guess, you bought the whole building?”

You snap your fingers, “They don’t call you the greatest detective for nothing!” you sit back down, cutting the meat on your plate, “I plan on making the floors I won’t live in into a laboratory of sort– almost like the Batcave, y’know, so I can continue working on the models I designed undisturbed.”

When Bruce had started his crusade as Batman, you had just gotten your bachelor’s degree in engineering, and were working on your master’s degree. You had basically given him the head-start, creating the software of the Batcomputer (or of the computer, as he calls it), designed and adapted a sport’s car to the Batmobile (just call it the car, Bruce always insists) and basically modified and created every single one of the gadgets and systems he uses.

You just hope he won’t let the Batcomputer get hacked as soon as you land in Metropolis — you spent weeks programming her and years perfecting her system. You spent so much time on her, she might as well be your firstborn by now.

“I’ll always be a call away,” you murmur when your brother’s eyes get a little dazy, unfocused– like he’s in another world, always thinking about the worst that could happen. “You know that, right?”

Bruce blinks. “Yeah. Yeah, I– I know that.”

(He isn't sure about that.)

You pat his hand, mustering a smile. "Maybe you should take a break, too. Why don't you book a vacation in, let's say... the Bahamas? Just to get a bit tanned and remember what the sun actually looks like."

He shakes his head. "Can't. Batman doesn't go on vacation."

You raise an eyebrow, sighing in defeat. "Well, I'm sure the GCPD could handle Gotham for a few days, but do as you like."

Your arrival in Metropolis is, of course, followed by an unhinged swarm of journalists and press that surround you as soon as you land.

You can already see the headlines — THE PRINCESS OF GOTHAM NOW IN METROPOLIS or some other corny predictable shit like that — as they shove their cameras in your face, screaming and trying to grab you, as your bodyguards try to contain them. You're much calmer than they are, having already endured years and years of invasive journalists.

“Miss Wayne, would you care to tell us the reason for this abrupt change in scenery?”

“Has your move got anything to do with your relationship with your brother?”

“Miss Wayne, look here! A smile for the front page–”

“Miss Wayne, why Metropolis, of all places?”

“Miss Wayne, a word for the Daily Planet?”

The guy for the Daily Planet catches your attention– he seems far too nice and isn’t elbowing anyone; he must be either new at the job or is too nice for it. He’s got a mop of curly, black hair atop his head, thick glasses perched on his nose, baby blue eyes behind them. His posture is a little crooked — he’s getting squeezed by reporters on both of his sides — but, even as disheveled as he is, you notice a thing.

Ohh, he’s pretty. Like, jaw-dropping pretty, the kind of pretty that makes you want to bite his cheek and never let go for the rest of your life.

You stop in your tracks, lifting your sunglasses to your head, bodyguards panicking at the swarm of journalists that suddenly all point to one direction; you reach for the pocket of your jeans and take out a business card that you pat on the pretty reporter’s chest. “Another time, pretty boy,” you promise as he takes the card, his fingers brushing yours, the other journalists speechless around you. “I’m kinda busy right now.”

You don’t stay long enough to see him blush and hold the business card tight in his palm so that the other reporters don’t snatch it out of his grip — the bodyguards urge you forward, towards the SUV with obscured windows that is waiting for you right in front of the arrivals’ exit of the airport. One of them opens the door for you, and you don’t hesitate to get inside, the car speeding off as soon as everyone’s inside.

“Never seen anything like this,” one of the men mutters.

You shrug, “I’ve had worse.”

The ride to your building is short, mostly because it’s late in the evening and there aren’t many people still around. You leave a generous tip to both the bodyguards and the driver, thanking them but assuring them that you can walk alone the thirty steps that separate you from the entrance to what’ll be your home for the foreseeable future. They help you take out your trolley and duffle bag, which you swing over your shoulder right after taking the keys of the building out.

You open the front door, carefully closing it behind you, taking the elevator right in front of it. You press the number thirty out of thirty-four, which turns green with a ding, and wait for the doors to open back up. And once they do, you’re not disappointed.

The loft is arranged just like how you asked the movers to — it would’ve been hard not to, as you sent them the 3D interior design plan you had made, but still. You’ve been raised with the idea that if you want something done well, you have to do it yourself, so you’re pretty happy about how it turned out.

Still, something’s missing.

You check around the loft for any pieces of missing furniture or something like that, not finding anything. You even go back to the 3D model to make sure that everything got here safe and sound, only to find that yes, everything is in the colour you ordered and exactly in the place you asked for it to be.

You sit on the U-shaped couch that sits right in front of the giant windows that let on the skyline of Metropolis, eyebrows knit in deep thought. The house is nice — for fuck’s sake, you bought a whole building just for you and your projects — but it’s weird not having anyone else around. There’s no Alfred to welcome you, no half-asleep Bruce roaming without an idea of where he is, no squeaking and creaking of the floor when you walk.

You sigh. “Maybe I should get a cat.”

154 notes · View notes

seungkw1 · 2 days ago

Text

safe haven — ljh

♡ pairing: neighbor!jihoon x fem!reader ♡ theme: fluff, hurt/comfort ♡ wc: 3.9k ♡ warnings: post-breakup dynamics, cheating (from ex), swearing, mentions of food ♡ a/n: written as part of the Winter with You collab put on by @camandemstudios - make sure to check out the full collab masterlist here!! give all these talented writers some love <3 and big thanks to @lovetaroandtaemin for beta reading!!

As if your fiancé leaving you for another woman wasn’t enough to make this the shittiest week of your life, now you’ve managed to lock yourself out of your house during an incoming blizzard. At least your next-door neighbor is home, and he’s kind enough to offer you shelter from the storm. You barely know Jihoon, only having spoken to him a few times - but soon, you discover you have more in common than you initially thought.

Five days ago, you made the innocent mistake of picking up your fiancé’s phone when you thought it was yours. You noticed immediately when you saw the lock screen - it was a photo of you and him from last December, posed in front of a Christmas tree, taken minutes after he proposed. In it, you’re smiling ear to ear, enthusiastically showing off the beautiful engagement ring he bought you. The photo has been his wallpaper ever since. “You look so happy,” he told you a couple months ago. “I can’t bring myself to change it.”

You go to set the phone back down, but a notification catches your eye. You take a closer look, discovering a string of WhatsApp messages, all from somebody named Kelsey.

Huh, that’s weird, you think to yourself. I didn’t know he even used WhatsApp.

Normally, you’d think nothing of it - but something feels off. You hesitate for a moment. You know each other’s passcodes for the sake of convenience; you’ve never felt the need to go through his phone, and you feel bad about even thinking about doing it. But, your gut is telling you to investigate.

You input the password and open the message thread. You’re not quite sure what you’re even looking for, but two seconds of scrolling tells you all you need to know. Dumbfounded, you read the particular message three more times before it sinks in:

Can’t wait for our vacation next week baby, I really need to get away from all of this right now.

Your stomach lurches as if you’ve just been punched in the gut. He told you he was going on a business trip next week. He told you that months ago.

Get away from ‘all of this’? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Does he mean… me???

Blood rushes through your ears as you read through the never-ending series of sexts, nudes, notes more romantic than anything he’s ever said to you before, an entire paper trail of all the times and locations of the evident affair - until you feel like you’re going to be sick.

No, it’s not real. It can’t be. There’s no way…

Paralyzed, you stand there in disbelief, but as several more minutes of scrolling pass, it becomes clear that this is actually happening. Tears start to well in your eyes, but you quickly bottle it up, converting the energy into anger instead. You take the phone and march into his office to confront him - ready to shut him down when he tries to deny it.

But, he doesn’t even try to deny it. He doesn’t even care.

“Well, it’s about time you found out anyway,” he tells you nonchalantly.

“Our wedding is in three months!! How fucking long were you going to wait to tell me??”

“I was gonna tell you soon, I just needed it to be the right time.”

“The right time??!! When is there a right time to dump your fiancé???”

“Listen, y/n-”

“Don’t tell me to fucking listen!!” you raise your voice at him. “In fact, don’t say anything else. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“You can’t tell me to get out, this is my house too,” he replies, with the sheer audacity to have a tone of annoyance in his voice.

“It’s MY name on the fucking papers. Get. Out.”

And so, he left. Didn’t even give you his set of keys back. Didn’t even say goodbye.

Now, you sit here parked in your driveway, the howling of harsh winter winds whistling over the melancholy tune playing loudly from the car radio. The volume is cranked all the way up, but despite your best efforts to drown out the outside world, the sharp whooshing sounds persist. Looks like the incoming storm is going to be as bad as predicted - if not worse. The blustering begins to jostle the whole vehicle. You stare aimlessly out the front windshield, watching chunks of snow flying erratically through the air as the winds pick up further. With a sigh, you turn the ignition off, the engine and radio going silent. If you're going to sit around moping, might as well do it inside where it's warm. You reach for the garage door remote clipped on the visor above you, but your hand only hits the soft padding. Right, you think to yourself, still gotta get that one replaced too.

You drag yourself out of your car, hastily throwing your coat on and stumbling through the wind toward your front door. Flipping through your keys, something feels off. You look down, assuming your frozen fingers are just too stiff to pick out the correct one. You stare at the collection for several seconds, but your house key is not there.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself in confusion. Then, a horrible realization sets in: you never put your new key on the keyring after getting your locks changed.

You brace yourself against the wind, trudging through the pile of snow accumulating in your front yard. As you reach the window, you lean over the bushes, peering through the partially-shut blinds into your kitchen to see a set of gold keys, sitting upon the center of the countertop.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Your stupid ex-fiancé isn’t even around anymore and he’s still finding new ways to make your life miserable. If he had just returned your damn keys, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

Tears start welling in your eyes - and this time, you surrender. The droplets begin to freeze on your face almost instantly, but you let yourself cry. After several minutes, you’re feeling slightly better - but you’re getting quite cold. You decide to head back to your car, at least turn the heat on while you try and figure out what to do, no need to stand here and get frostbite-

“Um, excuse me…”

You jump at the sound of the voice coming from behind you, whipping your head around to see a very bundled up man. You can’t see much of his face, but he looks to be in his late-twenties, with dark hair peeking out from under a thick beanie. It takes you a moment, but you realize it’s your next-door neighbor, Jihoon, whom you've met approximately once.

“I just wanted to check if you were okay,” he says loudly, doing his best to speak over the noisy wind. “You’ve been standing out here for a while.”

“Oh,” you reply, also speaking up. You wipe the tears off your cheeks with the back of your gloves. “Um, I’m kind of locked out of my house.”

“Is the lock frozen?”

“No- well actually, I don’t know, it might be, but I don’t have my key,” you explain, gesturing through the window. “It’s in there.”

“How did you manage to do that?” he inquires, not being condescending, but genuinely asking.

“The front door locks behind you when you leave.”

“Ohhh. Well that’s no good.” He pauses for a moment, looking at you curiously, before continuing.

“Um, well I know you don't know me very well, but if you need a place to wait while you call somebody you are welcome to come in,” he tilts his head toward his house. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but it’s really dangerous to be out in this storm.”

Normally, you’d be standoffish to a man you barely know inviting you into his house - but, something about him tells you you can trust him. He looks and sounds sincere, and you really don’t have anywhere else to go. Plus, you’re fucking freezing. You nod at him.

“I would really appreciate that,” you shout over the wind. He nods back, gesturing for you to follow along. He walks with you to his front door, the both of you taking large steps to trek through the several inches of snow that has already accumulated. He turns the knob and ushers you inside, following quickly and shutting the door behind him.

The sounds of the howling wind abruptly stop, the door creating a barricade between you and the heavy winter storm. Your ears ring slightly, but as you adjust to the quietness of indoors you pick up on a familiar tune playing from the other room.

“Is that En Bateau I hear?” you ask as you unlace your boots.

He’s in the middle of unwrapping his scarf from around his head, but he perks up at your question. “Yeah! You know Petite Suite?”

“It’s one of my favorites,” you reply warmly as you take off your coat. You try to avoid letting the jacket’s heavy dusting of snow fall to the floor, without success.

“Dammit, I got your floor all wet,” you inform him with a sigh. You realize you’re shivering - the house is warm, comfortably so, but standing out in the cold for however long you were out there certainly chilled you to your bones. He takes your coat from your hands, shaking off the rest of the snow before putting it on a hanger for you.

“Don’t even worry about it,” he tells you, grabbing a neatly folded towel from the closet and mopping up the mess. “There’s some blankets on the couch, you should warm yourself up.”

The prospect of a nice cozy blanket sends you speedwalking into the living room. You spot the stack of blankets, also neatly folded, and grab the thickest one you see - it’s plush and velvety, dark red in color, and gigantic. You wrap the soft fleece around your whole body, plopping cross-legged onto the couch, practically turning yourself into a cocoon. Immediately you start to warm up, your poor frozen extremities finally relieved of the painful cold. As you defrost, your brain begins to work again, processing your surroundings. Though you’ve never been inside, your neighbor’s abode feels very homely - the decor is largely cream-colored, accented with warm earth tones, doused in low lighting sourced from a few lamps placed strategically around the room. Though a plain, warm white, the walls are flourished tastefully with various unique artworks - nothing you recognize, but all very pleasing to the eye. Not that your ex was a slob, but you’ve never known a man to be so neat and tasteful. Refreshing, you think to yourself.

You hear soft footsteps from behind you as Jihoon enters the room. You turn to see him bearing a glass of water, a piping hot mug, and a small metal tin.

“I don’t know if you like tea,” he starts as he sets the beverages on the coffee table’s coasters. “But I thought you might want something warm to drink.”

“Tea sounds great, thank you so much,” you reply as you wiggle your arms out of the tangle of blanket surrounding you. Reaching for the tin, you pull out a bag of Earl Grey and place it in the mug to steep.

“It’s y/n, right?” he asks as he sits in a nearby armchair.

“That’s me,” you reply. “And you’re Jihoon, yes?”

He nods to confirm. “I know we met once a while ago,” he adds, “but I wasn’t sure if you remembered.”

"Of course I remember, I accidentally stole your packages,” you say with a laugh. “I felt bad about that for months.”

“No harm done, it was an honest mistake,” he replies with a calm smile.

The tea is nowhere near ready, but you take a sip anyway. The hot liquid sends a wave of warmth through your whole body, making you instantly feel much better. Now that you’re not freezing and in tears, you can finally think straight, and you remember why you’re here in the first place.

“I should call the locksmith, god knows how long it’s gonna take them to get here in this storm,” you state as you look around for your phone, but it’s nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, I think my phone is still in my bag.”

You start to get up, but Jihoon is faster.

“Here, I’ll grab it for you.”

He disappears from the room in an instant, returning a few moments later with your bag in hand. Thanking him politely, you rummage around for your phone until you find it. You open Google and type locksmith into the search, calling the first one you see with good reviews.

“I’m sorry ma’am, due to the storm we aren’t able to send anyone out until tomorrow.”

You try another one, but it’s the same story. A third one, no luck either. Nobody is able to come out until tomorrow morning. Dejected, you go ahead and schedule an appointment for 7am the next day. You do your best to remain calm, but you’re too exhausted to hold in your tears.

“I don’t know what to do,” you say to Jihoon, burying your face with your hands.

“Hey,” he replies softly. “It’s gonna be okay. You can stay here as long as you need.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you sigh.

“You’re not,” he assures you. “I promise. You’re welcome to take the guest room.”

“Are you sure?” you say with a sniffle, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Of course,” he nods.

“Thank you so much,” you tell him sincerely. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem at all,” he says with a soft smile. “Also, are you hungry? I have some leftover stew I was going to heat up, if you’d like some.”

You didn’t even realize that you were hungry, but the mention of food makes your stomach rumble.

“That sounds amazing,” you reply.

Jihoon spends a few minutes in the kitchen, returning with two steaming bowls of a hearty-looking beef stew.

“This is delicious,” you remark as you scoop another chunk of potato into your mouth. “I’m gonna need your recipe.”

“Oh, thank you,” Jihoon replies humbly. “I’m glad you like it.”

Several moments of silence pass between you two as you enjoy the meal, the music of Debussy’s piano filling the room in lieu of conversation. But instead of it being awkward, you feel peaceful, replenished from the food and the warmth of Jihoon’s home.

“Is there anything you want to watch?” he eventually turns to ask you. “I like having something on while I eat, but if not it’s okay.”

“Sounds good to me,” you reply. “What are you watching right now?”

“Oh, um, I like… anime,” he says sheepishly, turning slightly pink with embarrassment. “But we definitely don’t have to watch that. What do you like?”

“Have you seen The Great British Bake Off?” you respond. “It’s on Netflix.”

“Never heard of it,” he admits, but he already has the tv remote in hand, opening the app.

“I haven’t seen the new season yet, if you want to start there.”

“Will I understand it if I haven’t seen the other seasons?” he inquires, causing you to giggle.

“It’s a reality show, each season is different,” you fill him in, proceeding to explain the premise. He listens earnestly, but his facial expression tells you he is skeptical.

“It’s really good, I promise!” you assure him.

“I don’t really get it,” he admits with a confused look on his face. “But if you say it’s good, I’ll take your word for it.”

He puts on the first episode, letting you explain the different challenges to him. About halfway through the episode, he turns to you.

“So… what exactly do they win?”

“A cake stand,” you answer. The look of bewilderment on his face makes you laugh again.

“So they don’t even get any money from it??”

“Nope,” you reply, cozying up under the blanket again. “That’s why it’s so wholesome.”

“Ah, okay,” he says, still unsure about the whole thing. But by the end of the first episode, he’s hooked.

“How do they do that??” he remarks at each contestant’s fanciful cake in the final challenge, his eyes glued to the tv. As soon as the credits start to roll, he clicks the Next Episode button.

“See? I told you it was good,” you say with a sleepy smile. The combination of the satisfying dinner, the warmth of the blanket, and the relaxing nature of the show is quickly making your eyelids turn heavy. You lean your head against the back of the couch, determined not to doze off - but within a few minutes, you are fast asleep.

The soft light of early dawn glows through your closed eyelids as you begin to awaken. You’re so warm and comfortable that you don’t even bother opening your eyes - instead you just lay there, relaxing under the blankets. As your brain slowly wakes, last night’s events start to register in your mind - you grimace as you recall the bitter cold of being stuck outside your own house, having a breakdown, feeling utterly helpless until-

Your eyes pop open. Sleepily adjusting to the morning light filtering in through the windows, you see that you’re still in Jihoon’s house, on the couch. You turn your face to see a pillow underneath your head that wasn’t there previously, and an extra knit blanket draped over the red fleece one that was already wrapped around you. Jihoon is nowhere in sight, presumably still asleep. You wonder what time it is - when suddenly you remember the locksmith appointment you made for 7am. Panicked, you bolt upright, searching for your phone amidst the blankets, until you spot it laying upon the coffee table, plugged into a charger that isn’t yours. You snatch it up, your heart sinking when you see the time: 7:34am.

“SHIT,” you grumble to yourself. You hurriedly unravel yourself from the tangle of blankets - it’s still warm in his house, but a chill hits you in the absence of the cozy covers. Sitting fully upright, you feel your feet bump something as they touch the carpet. Looking down, you spot a pair of slippers - light beige in color, women’s, brand new with the tags still on. For a moment you feel a bit weird about putting them on (Why does he have these, anyway?), but you’re cold, and at this point you don’t care. You slip them on, the comfort of the fluffy interior immediately making you glad you did. They feel high quality - luxurious even, and now you feel nice and toasty. Rising from the couch, you grab the top blanket and wrap it around you. The inviting scent of coffee suddenly hits you - you follow it into the kitchen, where Jihoon stands before a brewing coffee pot. Noticing you have entered the room, he turns to greet you.

“Good morning,” he says warmly. He wears a pair of plaid pajama pants, seemingly with a matching top underneath a dark fleece quarter-zip. You note that he also has slippers on, not too dissimilar from the ones currently on your feet. As the coffee finishes brewing, he grabs two mugs, gesturing to you with one.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“I’d love some,” you answer. He takes the pot and pours the piping hot beverage into your mug.

“Cream and sugar?”

“Yes, please.”

He fixes your drink and hands you the steaming mug. You take a small, careful sip, your insides instantly warmed by the smooth brew.

“Delicious, thank you,” you tell him, taking another generous sip.

“Of course,” he nods.

“Guess I missed the locksmith,” you say with a sigh. “I should’ve thought to set an alarm before I passed out.”

He turns, reaching for something on the counter. Turning back, he extends his hand to you, your keys laying in his palm.

“Already taken care of,” he says with a smile.

“How did you…” Your words trail off as you take the keys, your fingertips lightly grazing his warm skin.

“I met the locksmith and explained the situation,” he explains. “He picked the lock in like, one minute.” He gives you an apologetic look as he continues. “I’m sorry I went into your house without asking you first, I felt bad, but I didn’t want to have to wake you and drag you out into the cold.”

“Don’t apologize,” you reply, shaking your head quickly. “I really really appreciate it.”

“I’m glad I could help,” he tells you with a soft smile.

“Thank you for the pillow too,” you add. “And the slippers, glad you had these laying around,” you say with a grin. His smile fades slightly, glancing away for a moment.

“They were supposed to be a gift,” he says as he looks at you again. “But I didn’t need them anymore. You can keep them.” He smiles, but despite trying to hide it, his tone is tinged with sadness.

“Oh,” you say softly. “You sure?”

He hesitates slightly, unsure whether to tell you.

“They were for my girlfriend, but she left me a couple weeks ago,” he admits. He looks down at his coffee, stirring it aimlessly with the spoon. A pang of sympathy hits you.

“I’m sorry,” you say gently. “I unfortunately can relate. My fiancé left me five days ago, for another woman.”

He perks his head up slightly in surprise. “Oh wow, what an awful week this must be. I’m sorry, too.”

“Yeah, quite honestly, it fucking sucks,” you say, staring off into space a bit.

“I was about to propose,” he adds, unsure exactly why he’s telling you this. But you both are feeling a newfound, unspoken kinship in your aligned misfortunes. “But one day she just told me she didn’t love me anymore.”

“Jesus, that’s terrible, I’m so sorry,” you empathize. “I found out my fiancé was cheating on me and confronted him. He didn’t even give a shit so I kicked him out, haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

“Wow,” Jihoon says with wide eyes. He lets out a sigh. “I had already bought a ring, too. She didn’t know, but I had the whole proposal planned out.” He shrugs, shaking his head. “I guess it’s for the better that she left before I even bothered.”

“Yeah, doesn’t make it any less painful though.”

“Definitely not. And I wasn’t even able to return the ring.” He laughs, letting out an incredulous huff.

“Oh my god,” you react in bewilderment.

“It’s alright,” he says calmly. “Maybe I’ll be able to use it someday.”

His eyes linger on you slightly too long as the words roll off his tongue. The moment is brief, fleeting - but it’s enough for you to notice.

“Would you like any more coffee?” he asks before you can fully process anything, nudging the pot in your direction.

“I’m alright, thank you,” you reply, finishing the last bit in your mug.

“Here, I’ll take it.”

“I better get going, now that I can actually get into my house,” you announce with a smile. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“You weren’t a bother at all,” he assures you. “But I’m sure you’re dying to go home.”

Jihoon walks to his entryway. He gathers your things for you, taking your coat from the closet and helping you into it.

“I truly can’t thank you enough,” you tell him sincerely. “You really saved my ass.”

He smiles at you. “You’re very welcome. It was nice to finally properly meet you, y/n.”

He hands you something as he opens the door for you. You take it - it’s a blue sticky note, with his name and phone number written neatly on it.

“You can always call me if you need anything at all.”

“Thank you,” you smile warmly, folding the note and tucking it safely into your pocket. “I will.”

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fushiguruuzzzz · 2 days ago

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+ CHAPTER FOUR // RUN IT BACK

series mlist

Tags — mentions of catcalling-ish/a creepy comment, mentions of violence, the texts and the written part don’t connect it’s sort of just two separate parts, I’m only now realizing how odd the divs look I’m apologizing but not changing it, your phone isn’t tweaking the last two images are supposed to be transparent Words — 1.3k

The day was gloomy, the sound of downpour fading in and out with every opening of the front door. Had you been at home, your only company would be a good book and possibly a roll of raw cookie dough, maybe Nobara curled up at your side and updating you on the details of a couple in her design class. But you weren't at home, you were stuck here, surrounded by blurred faces and the smell of damp socks. You would be sure to use this against Miwa until the end of time, you told yourself. After a pathetically small amount of begging and the explanation that you think involved her boyfriend, you agreed. You knew she wasn't one to ditch out just because, so you barely bothered hearing her out before doing the favour. You were beginning to regret that.

You'd been spaced out for so long that you didnt even notice the oddly familiar head of hair, sat lowly and just almost resting on the back of the booth's seat. He stood out against the worn, ruby leather, a collection of pastels sitting on something dull and worn. Something bright and new presented to you, surrounded by familiarity. The deep lilac of his irises were trained on you, not exactly burning into you, but rather drinking you in. He wasn't harsh or searing or intimidating, he didn't make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and he didn't make you feel hot all over. He was soft, a whisper within the pitter patter of the rain, he was the warmth of coffee slipping down your throat on a cold day (even if sometimes, it ended up on the floor).

You met his eye, and the corners of his lips tugged up into a smile. It spoke louder than words, a reminder of the fleeting experiences you’d shared without ever truly having a conversation.

“Toge,” you greeted softly as you walked over, voice sugary sweet and laced with something he couldn’t put his finger on.

He replied with a smile, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled as he did. “Y/n.”

“No company this time?”

You swear that his cheeks heated up just the slightest bit, and he glanced down for a second before turning back. “No, they bring bad luck… as you could see.”

Your brows quirked upwards playfully, hands falling down to your hips. The notepad you were holding pressed gently into your side—a reminder of what you were actually supposed to be doing. “You sure they’re the bad luck?”

“Yes,” he said, all too quickly and all too defensive. It was hard to suppress a smile by now, and you could very easily tell that he was facing the same problem. He was inside his own head locking himself for looking like a dork, but the bigger part of him knew that he truly was. I mean, last time you’d seen him he was double fisting instant ramen and short circuiting trying to decide whether to say hi or avoid you altogether, the internal conflict sending him into overdrive and leaving him standing there like he’d stared into the eyes of Medusa.

But he was here now, and he was functioning just fine aside from his heart speeding up.

He gave you his order and made sure not to stutter. He watched you longingly as you disappeared into the big grey double doors that led to the back, and he beat himself up for not saying more. He had another chance though, right? And he’d be sure to take it. So when you trotted back out, hips swaying ever so slightly and the pink of your lipgloss reflecting the glow of the piercing lights above, he wasn’t going to cower away. Toge was used to being friendly, but holding a conversation… yikes.

“…are you busy right now?”

You glanced down from where you stood over him, catching the awkwardness in the way he shifted. You gave a soft shake of the head, motioning to the nearly empty section around you.

“Great. So… maybe you could sit…?” he asked. He tried to feign nonchalance, but the nervous rasp in his voice was hard to miss. Something warm curled in your chest, and you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him. Not when he was staring up at you, biting his cheek and silently screaming ‘I’m not usually this awkward, I swear!’

Sliding into the seat across from him, the cool leather pressed into you through your pants. You didn’t even realize when you started chatting away—it just came so naturally that it the beginning and the end were blurred. It faded in and out calmly, like the tide on a warm, empty day at the beach. Talking was easy with Toge. He followed everything you said with a nod and an approving hum, made sure you knew he was paying attention. He was undeniably present, but it wasn’t loud or suffocating. He was just there, gentle and warm and fresh. If someone asked you to recount the conversation, all you could remember was the way his light hair fell in tufts over his face as he nodded at something you said. If they asked him, he’d probably be able to recite it like it was a subject he’d studied for years.

“So…” he said, voice soft as he tried to figure out a way to bring this up. If it hadn’t been you, he didn’t want to figure that out once it was too late and embarrass himself. He also feared that if it were you, he’d look creepy—or worse, make you uncomfortable. Based on the way you’d scrambled into the darkness of the sketchy corner alley, it didn’t take a scientist to figure out you weren’t up to any good. Did he have the right to mention it? Probably not. But sometimes the curiosity in his veins ran deeper than the need to keep you comfortable, so he didn’t stop himself. “You into rock?”

You hoped the way your eyes widened ever so slightly and your spit catching in your throat wasn’t noticeable, but it was. It shouldn’t have been such a secret, but it was just so… not you. If he liked you, he figured he liked you how he saw you now. Your hobbies were quite the opposite, and the possible backlash was enough to make the words die on your tongue.

“Y/n!” shouted a voice from the kitchen, making your body jolt up with the relief of an excuse to swerve the topic. You slithered out of the seat with a small smile and a heated face, basically running to the back. “That should be your order. I should uh… I should get back to work. I’ll see you!”

When you were out of view, he let out a huff. His shoulders slumped, and he rested his head on the rough table for a second. You’d gotten away for a second time. Maybe this was the last.

But then he walked out of the diner and looked at his receipt, only to see a ten digit number scribbled into the back of it. Underneath was your name with a little smiley face. He grinned, let out a breath of victorious (maybe surprised) laughter, and put it into his pocket.

It wasn’t the last chance he had. He didn’t know it yet, but the universe seemed to align so that he’d have many, many more.

Can you feel it in the air? That warmth? Yeah it’s romance

getting the story movingggg

they all thought Toge was a loser for going back

little did they know he got that bag

I apologize if these seem rushed because they somewhat are, I’m just not as motivated to write this series as I am other things :)

Also if you saw a post about this being posted at 6:40 no u didn’t.

yep we’re back chat. I’ve been flopping lately someone kill me for Emma got like 100 notes gang I’m gonna end it ALL. tbh I feel like that was deserved it wasn’t my best but it made people cry so a win is a win (pls stop attacking me I had three people in my messages ATTACKING me at once) oh… yall aren’t gonna like what I’m cooking up.

Taglist — 47/50 (as of posting. Check masterlist)

@anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @adoresia @auroratumbles @sh0ot1ngst4r @soobin1437 @mystic-megumi @cinnamxnangel @lizbix @s3ns4ti0n4l @anonnieghost @s4toruz @gumims @bubybubsters @k4ss11333 @rreveurdoll @kaged-kitty @rwura @aldebrana @hqnge @good-mourning0 @daisies-and-domming @vi0let-writes @dazaisfavgf @hearts4aloise @coolgirl458 @keyaea @jealovsie @sirenla @academiq @mammoanlmao @moonchhu @ichcocat @blubearxy @hayl09 @q2uq2u @potteraep @fiannee @lailakys @jxisnwaol @treeguzzler @nanaanatiion @zayuriluvs @kr1nqu @cloudxox @azinniyaa @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee

— I removed the people who haven’t changed their tag settings after 3 chapters, so there’s been some space cleared up! You’ll be removed if your tags don’t work for three chapters straight, so please make sure they’re correct :) if you’ve fixed them don’t be afraid to comment and ask me to add you back

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smau #toge inumaki smau #inumaki toge smau #inumaki toge x reader #toge inumaki x reader #toge jjk #toge x reader #toge inumaki #inumaki toge #inumaki smau #inumaki x reader

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clesired · 2 days ago

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𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 | 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 !

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ! “can i request a fred x slytherin!reader? someone who’s an introvert but opposites attract?” thank you to the lovely anon who requested this <3

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ! everyone knows opposites attract, how could you forget!?

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! light!angst ( like really light, reader gets into her head a bit but nothing drastic ), fluff, introverted slytherin fem!reader, established relationship, second person pov, 1.3k words!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the feeling of a warm hand rubbing your side.

You look down at your boyfriend, who’s already looking up at you with a small smile as he pulls you closer to his chest.

“You alright, love?” He asks quietly, his question only for you to hear, and you feel a wave of affection for your sweet boy wash over you.

He can get a bit rowdier when he’s with his friends. Louder—but he always lowers his voice when he’s checking in on you in group settings, knowing it would only make you feel bad if attention was brought to it.

It’s no secret that you tend to keep to yourself, but ever since you and Fred became official—you’ve made it a point to put yourself out there more.

Admittedly, you two are polar opposites personality wise. Where Fred thrives in groups and socializing, pulling out laughter and smiles with ease—you thrive in more quiet, solitary spaces with a decided lack of too many people.

Seeing as you always avoided your housemates—the other Slytherins just too nasty for you to tolerate for longer than necessary; your first real taste of being part of a friend group was with the Gryffindors.

And it’s been great—truly. You genuinely enjoy spending time with all of them. But sometimes, you still find yourself getting a bit overwhelmed.

It’s just not in your nature to be around lots of people for extended periods of time and when your social battery is low—it’s low.

Fred knows this, which is why he’s always checking in, and you swear you fall in love with him a little more each time he does it.

“I’m okay, Freddie.” You respond, your voice equally as quiet, as your left hand comes up to fiddle with the neck of his shirt.

Truthfully, you feel yourself running out of energy to keep up with the rambunctious group of lions, but you don’t want to be the reason Fred has to leave his friends. You know he’s having a good time.

George and Lee are locked in on an intense round of Wizard’s Chess, Alicia narrating the game flawlessly as Angelina whispers to George on where he should move his pieces. And upon realizing what the two are doing, Lee recruits Katie to help him, insisting that if George is going to cheat, then so is he.

As they continue to play—throwing playful jabs at each other all the while, Fred’s eyes fall down to where you’re fiddling with his shirt.

He knows what that means. Your hands can never stay still when you’re either nervous or overwhelmed, a habit he’s sure you don’t even realize you do most of the time.

He grabs your hand gently, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss before caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

He looks over to his twin and his friends and smiles. “Alright mates, my lovely witch and I are gonna call it a night.” He announces as he gently pats your hip before picking you up and placing you on your feet in front of him.

The boys playfully boo while the girls laugh and wave at the two of you.

Katie focuses on you and winks. “Thanks for getting rid of one of the stooges for us, Y/N.”

Angelina nods in agreement, jumping in. “Real life saver, you.”

“Hopefully the other two follow suit.” Alicia smirks.

You four share a laugh while the boys look at you in mock outrage.

Fred stands up and wraps his arms around your waist from behind as he smirks at the girls. “Hopefully not.”

He just barely manages to shield both you and himself from the pillow that gets thrown at his head as George places a hand over his heart. “Betrayed by my own twin!”

“I see where I stand.” Lee huffs as he makes a show of turning away from Fred.

You smile at their antics, the guilt over taking Fred from them easing a little at their playful reactions.

“Goodnight, guys.” You bid them goodbye as Fred gently leads you up to his dorm, the last sound you hear from the common room being their loud choruses of goodnights in response back.

Moments later, you two curl up in his bed, curtains drawn closed and a silencio casted with a simple flick of the wrist as you two settle into the pillows and sheets.

He kisses the top of your head gently as he pulls you into his chest, hand moving to trace up and down your spine soothingly as he slips it beneath your top.

You sigh softly in content, already feeling better now that you’re not surrounded by all the loud chatter of the common room.

“You know you can always tell me when you want to leave, love. You don’t have to force yourself to stay with our friends any longer than you want to be.” He says softly.

His use of the word ‘our’ makes you feel all warm inside as you nuzzle into his neck. “I know you enjoy spending time with them. I don’t wanna get in the way of that.” You explain quietly.

He squeezes you tighter, then, as he kisses the top of your head once more. “I enjoy spending time with you.” He shoots back, his gentle ministrations on your back not letting up.

“I spend all day with my friends. Quidditch, classes, meals…but I don’t get you to myself nearly as often as I’d like.” He taps your nose gently, smiling when you only scrunch it in response.

His arm falls to your waist once more as he resumes tracing shapes into your back. “You could never ‘get in the way,’ silly girl.”

You blush softly, hands moving to fiddle with the neck of his shirt once more. “I guess I’m just a little afraid you’re gonna grow tired of it one day. You’re such a people’s person and I’m—you know…not.” Your voice turns a little deprecating as you speak.

He’s having none of that, as he uses his finger to tilt your chin up, forcing you to hold eye contact with him as he speaks.

“Now listen here, miss. I don’t care about any of that. If anything—I love you more because of it. You keep me balanced.” He says strongly, cupping your face gently.

“Haven’t you ever heard that saying? Opposites attract, love. That’s us. We make each other better. Nuanced, as your brilliant brain would say. Encourage each other to step out of our comfort zones and try new things.” He gently caresses your cheek with his thumb.

“Do you resent me for pushing you to hang out with our friends?” He asks, and the question is so absurd you can’t help but rear back a little.

“Exactly.” He says, and that brings you up short.

You breathe out a small laugh, dropping your head to his chest. You can’t argue with that and he knows it.

“Okay, okay, you make some good points.” You admit, pulling back to look down at his face as you smile.

He raises a brow, smirking cockily. “When do I not?”

Before you can respond, he quickly tacks on, “Don’t answer that.”

You laugh once more, a little louder this time, before you lean down and press a gentle kiss into his lips.

He kisses you back eagerly, tugging you even closer to his chest if possible, hands gripping at your waist tightly.

When you pull away, your smile is wide. “I love you so much.” You whisper softly, and he pecks your lips once more before nuzzling his face into your neck and inhaling your scent contentedly.

“And I love you.” He says equally as soft, eyes closing as he relaxes further into the bed, still holding you to his body.

You two are polar opposites personality wise, and you couldn’t be happier.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! may this kind of love find me, honestly. i hope you lovelies enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

xoxo,

mila! *: ･🐚༄🫧*ੈ✩

#clesired #clesiredwrites #clesiredoneshots #clesiredfredweasley #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fic #harry potter golden era #harry potter golden era fanfiction #harry potter golden era fic #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x reader

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nesepte · 1 day ago

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Forbidden Fruit | Na Jaemin (18+)

Pairing: Brother's best friend Jaemin x fem! reader

Genre: sexual tension, angst, mind games, mutual pining, brother’s best friend, jaemin is also a tease, some more tension Warnings: smut (eventual), sexually explicit, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, drunk sex, smoking, pet names (baby, darling), teasing Please don't read if uncomfortable xD Word Count: 2.1k words

Jaemin was handsome. Jaemin was so bloody handsome that it drove you insane. But he was also Mark’s best friend, and as much as you wanted him, he was your brother’s best friend.

Jaemin was also standing right in front of you, leaning against the door frame, his right hand holding the top for support and his left holding his jacket. His black shirt was unbuttoned till his torso, and his pants were crinkled. His hair was messy and his sighs were heady.

He was drunk. You could smell it.

‘Mark isn’t home,’ you said, hoping he wouldn’t go away.

He looked at you from top to bottom, his eyes stopping at your skirt before looking up.

‘I know,’ he groaned. ‘Can I come in?’

‘Why?’ You blocked his way. It was too risky. Behind her, on the table was the bottle of wine you had downed a few minutes ago and the flush that was creeping its way up to your face was enough to tell you that he shouldn’t be here, not when you were tipsy and alone.

He scoffed, tilting his head to the side. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?’ he mocked, stepping over the threshold.

You had met Jaemin three years ago when Mark had brought his friends home. You knew all of them except him. He was new. He was different. He did not pat your head like you were a kid, nor did he ever treat you like one of the boys. But different isn’t necessarily good and in this case, it was almost torturous.

Those accidental rub of the shoulders, those unintentional graze of your hands, the stolen glances and the lingering gazes. It was nothing, you told yourself, repeating those words over and over in your head every time Jaemin would visit, till you could think of nothing but him.

‘I can go back, if you’d like.’ His voice came out hoarse.

Without a thought, you took a step back, allowing him inside, and the moment he closed the door behind him without your protests, he smirked, spotting the empty wine bottle on the table.

‘Having a party… alone?’

‘Is there something you want?’ you asked, keeping the tremble out of your voice as best you could.

‘Hm…’ He met her eyes.

‘What?’

But he chose to keep quiet.

Stumbling, he made his way to the table and sat himself down, letting his head lean back. ‘Water…’ he groaned, throwing his jacket on the side and unbuttoning the remaining buttons on his shirt.

This is bad. This is bad, you repeated in your mind, keeping your eyes away from his chest. Your hands were shivering and your face had grown hot. You could feel the heat rising inside you and was sure that you weren’t hiding it well.

‘Here.’ You offered him the glass of water and watched him gulp it down, slowly, the droplets dribbling down his bobbing throat to his chest, drenching his shirt where it still made contact with his skin.

‘Are you done gawking?’ he said, with his last gulp.

The question angered you. It was one thing to tease but you didn’t like the insinuation that you were the only one who was holding back. You had seen him watch too. Those lingering gazes weren’t one-sided.

‘I wasn’t,’ you said, defiantly.

‘Sure,’ he scoffed.

‘As if you have never.’

‘Never what?’

‘Gawked at me.’

He liked this. You could see it in his eyes. The little game that he had just set for the both of you and how you had become a player without ever consenting to it.

‘Maybe I have,’ he said, running his fingers through his dark hair that fell over his eyes and groaned, ‘Ah, but you’re his sister. I can’t. We can’t…’

‘Hey, you alright?’

‘Jaemin was barely holding on. This whisky he had had on his way over was finally taking hold. He shook his head and took out a cigarette from his pocket.

‘Mark won’t like it if you smoke here,’ you warned.

‘Mark won’t like a lot of things I have on my mind right now,’ he slurred and lit the cigarette between his lips. Taking painfully slow drags out of the stick, he blew out the smoke that smelled of whisky, letting the ash fall to the ground.

You waited, still. And when he was done, he let go of the cigarette butt and crushed it beneath his boot.

‘No,’ he answered your earlier question.

‘Hm?’

‘I don’t feel alright,’ he said.

‘Oh, do you want water?’ you asked, knowing already that this wasn’t what he wanted but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction by folding first.

‘No,’ he replied, his eyes steady on you.

‘Want to lie down?’ you asked and he smirked hearing the hitch in your breath.

‘No,’ he whispered. He had to be patient. You were almost there.

‘What do you want then?’

‘Why don’t you guess?’

‘I am not going to play your games,’ you hissed.

‘Don’t act like you are not enjoying this.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

He waited, then sighed. ‘Can you rub my back for me?’ Sometimes, it’s better to take a step back to draw the other one out.

Your fingers twitched and your throat gulped dryly. It was obvious, so damn obvious and you hated how your body was reacting to his words.

‘Is there something wrong?’ Do you not trust yourself?’ he said, spreading his legs for you.

This was it. He had laid the perfect bait. Denying the challenge meant admitting to his accusation. Accepting it, meant torture.

Pressing your lips together, you took a step to him and without hesitation, ran your palm down his broad back.

There was no way you were going down without a fight.

You nudged forward between his legs as you slowly stroked his back. It was your turn to draw him out. There was no hurry, not anymore— you took your time, feeling every inch of his back under your fingers, making sure he knew who was in charge right now. Every brush, every stroke, every touch was intentional, pausing where his body reacted but lingering not more than a second. You were not going to give this to him so easily. The heat from your palms spread over his back like a drop of paint in water. He was leaning into it, sighing when he didn’t want to, groaning when he knew he shouldn’t. You pulled him, dragged him out with every rub, your own breath growing heavy seeing his gleaming eyes drooping, sensing his pulse quickening.

Fuck, what have you done.

His hands found your legs. ‘Hm…’ he mumbled against your stomach, pulling you in.

‘Jaemin,’ you breathed out as his palms found their way upwards. ‘We should stop.’

‘We should,’ he agreed with no intention of stopping.

‘This is wrong.’

‘It is.’

‘Stop it.’

‘You first.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Then don’t,’ he hissed and rose to his feet. This was enough.

He pushed you against the table, an arm holding your waist, the other bracing against the edge.

‘How much have you had to drink?’ he asked against your lips, his warm breath fanning over your face.

‘T-The bottle of wine,’ you whimpered.

‘Just that?’ His voice was desperate, his words strained.

‘Just that,’ you echoed and felt him tighten his grip around you.

‘Do you realize what I want to do?’ He pressed his forehead against you, his hands pulling the fabric of your top.

You nodded.

‘I am your brother’s best friend,’ he reminded you and waited.

‘You are my brother’s best friend,’ you replied, lip quivering against his.

‘Are you sure you want this?’ he asked.

You nodded again, your own desperation growing.

‘’No, say it. Do you want me to fuck you?’

‘I want it, Jaemin,’ you almost moaned out. ‘I want you to fuck me.’

‘He grinned against your jaw. ‘Aw, baby, look at you. You sound so pathetic, and I haven’t even started yet.’

This was when you realized how badly you had lost this round.

Shameless as it was, your gaze found his lips, and Jaemin didn’t waste a single second in useless chatter after that. He kissed you, hungry and full, his hand tangled in your hair. And oh, how you melted into him, letting his pull you closer to him.

It was just how you had imagined it countless times before— hot, messy, and desperate. He tasted of whisky and smelled of smoke. It was almost dizzying and you were sure that Jaemin was holding you up. But you inhaled him whole, not wanting to waste a single breath that didn’t pull you closer to him.

He sucked at your lips, nipped and bit when it wasn’t enough, his tongue hot in your mouth. It was almost pathetic how he bucked his hips against you, pressing his bulge, making you moan. He kissed your jaw, his lips trailing down to your neck where he marked you red.

‘Ugh, Jaemin,’ you moaned and he kissed her mouth again as if he had forgotten what it tasted like in the seconds that had passed. He had forgotten how to breathe, how to exist without you.

With a groan, he pulled back and for a moment you thought he was stopping. But when his eyes met yours, you both knew. This was it. But he had to be sure.

‘Baby…’ he whispered breathlessly.

‘Yes, fuck me,’ you cried out.

You couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. It was too far away and the walk was too long. Jaemin helped you up the table. Your hand knocked over the wine bottle and somewhere in the distance you heard it shattering to the floor, the remaining wine spilling out from between the shards behind you.

Unzipping his pants, he pulled your underwear down from beneath your skirt.

‘Oh baby, you are so wet for me,’ he panted against your lips, biting it once again as his fingers worked between your folds. ‘Such a good girl.’

‘Stop teasing,’ you whined as he rubbed his length along your warmth. It was all too much, too agonizing to bear. ‘Please…’

He pushed his way in, slowly, swallowing your moans into his mouth. Your eyes rolled back into your head as your legs wrapped themselves around his waist.

‘Mhngh…’

He waited but only for a single torturous moment before pulling out and thrusting in again, harder this time.

‘Y-Yes,’ you breathed.

His pants pooled around his ankles, his shirt drooping off his shoulders, he fucked into you again and again, your bodies falling into a rhythm of their own. The sound of your skins slapping against each other echoed in the hollow, your sinful moans marking each thrust as he plunged deeper into you.

‘Do you like me this much, huh?’ He increased his pace as you clutched onto him. ‘Have you been dreaming about me baby?’

You bit onto his shoulder, your nails digging on his sweaty back.

‘Did you picture this every time I came over?’ he teased, holding you by your jaw to make you look at him. ‘Huh baby? Did you imagine me fucking you every time you touched yourself?’

‘Jaemin…’ You weren’t even listening anymore. His arm around you, his chest against yours, his mouth sucking on your neck and his dick thrusting inside you. You were full— full of him, overwhelmed by his scent, consumed by his body. You felt small in front of his desire, yet to him, you looked the prettiest when falling apart in his arms like that.

‘I know,’ he soothed you, still fucking you into the table. ‘I know, darling. God, I have dreamed about fucking you too. You have no idea how many wretched nights I have spent touching myself thinking about you.’

‘Hm, right there, y-yes, don’t stop…’

‘Oh, don’t worry, baby. I won’t stop till I make you come.’

You threw your head back, the knot inside you threatening to unravel. You screamed his name as you clenched around him, making him groan and bite your shoulder. But he held onto you as you squirmed in his arms from your release.

‘Yes, baby, so beautiful,’ he grunted, his eyes glazed over from watching you come undone like that. He was still thrusting inside you, his own rhythm becoming sloppier and with a final clench, he pulled out, spilling his white onto your thigh.

You stayed still, foreheads pressed, panting into each other’s mouths, your hands refusing to let go of the other. There was a distant knock, probably a doorbell— you two couldn’t tell.

You looked up at him. He was already smiling, or was it a smirk. ‘Mark is going to kill you,’ you reminded him.

‘Small price to fuck you,’ he replied.

#jaemin x reader #na jaemin #na jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #na jaemin x you #jaemin #jaemin fanfic #na jaemin smut #jaemin smut #na jaemin imagines #jaemin imagines #na jaemin scenarios #jaemin scenarios #nct dream fanfic #nct fanfic #nct smut #nct dream imagines #nct dream smut

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s-4pphics · 14 hours ago

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WHERES ALL THE ANGST!!!!!

i needed something injected into my veins rq yayyy i wrote this in like 5 mins so it’s ass no context I GOT THE LAST LINE FFROM A PROMPT LIST BUT I LOST IT I NEED TO FIND IT BUT I NEEDED TO CRRYYY SOMEONE MAKE ME CRY PLEASEPELASS

vi being a piece of shit and projecting onto her sneaky link bc she misses yet resents cait I MISS EMO VI SO BAD …. OHHH MY SHAYYLAAAA

—

“C-Can you kiss me slower?”

“… What?”

“I asked if you could kiss me slower.”

“I heard what you said. Why’d you say it.”

Your eyes remain shut for your own protection. You fucked up the second you opened your mouth for anything other than the acceptance of her tongue. Your fists ache from how hard they clench on her back. Vi sighs before dropping her hands from your cheeks and rising completely from the bed. Only when you hear her rummaging through her liquor boxes do you open your eyes.

The arrangement she set up for the both of you had very simple instructions. You walk her home from the rink whenever she’s too fucked up to function on her own, and she eats you out in repayment, but you don’t speak about anything. No goals, no aspirations, no past hook-ups, no trauma, no nothing. You just guide her home, get your brains fucked out, then leave while she cries into her pillow. You never have the courage to ask what breaks her every night. When you first met, you attempted to keep the conversation light and goofy with every intention of cheering up a seemingly struggling individual. You would’ve never approached her if you knew this would be the outcome.

Vi’s especially cruel when she’s intoxicated.

You don’t know much about her, but on a good day, she’s caring and protective. You’ve only ever seen blips of that gentle side whenever somebody at the bar or rink tries drunkenly touching you in places they shouldn’t, but your heart never forgot even though she has.

“I hate when you do shit like that.”

She speaks with such calm conviction. Your face burns in embarrassment while your heart pounds in anxiety. You hate when she calls you out on your sensitivity. You’re not sure what’s happened over the past month. Maybe distance really does make the heart go fonder. To say you missed Vi was, secretly, an understatement. Her warmth comforted you in a way your blanket never could.

“Sorry.” You say meekly, already reaching for your pants off the floor.

“Are you actually? It’s your second time doin’ it.” Liquid sloshes and you know she’s drinking from the source.

“I said I’m sorry. The fuck do you want from me?”

She scoffs with a bandaged fist clenched around her bottle’s neck, “I made it clear the second I met you, didn’t I?”

A distraction. A temporary fix. A midnight companion until she got her shit together. You know you’ve fucking heard all of it.

“I hear you, okay? My fucking bad—“

“What the fuck did you think was gonna come from this? I’m actually curious!”

You scramble to redress with a lump in your throat, trying your hardest to dismiss the beration she throws at you.

“You know what’s crazy about people like you? After everything we go through down here, you’re still so fucking trusting. Couldn’t sense danger if it was starin’ you right in the face, huh?”

Where the fuck did you put your bag? “Do you have to be such a fucking asshol—“ Your sob chokes when you drop to your knees and snatch your satchel from underneath her bed. Despite how small her space is, the door feels miles away.

“Don't you get it? I’m not a fucking fanasty, I’m not gonna save you, we’re not gonna be together—“

“FUCK YOU!”

“Yeah, fuck you, too. Maybe you shouldn’t have put your trust in someone else so much—“

You slam the door before she can spill anything else.

#vi smut #vi angst #vi arcane #arcane smut #vi league of legends #vi drabble #arcane #works 𖧧࣪

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hauntedhokage · 2 days ago

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𝓈𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇

Sylus x F!MC

word count: 1.6k

summary: After a UNICORNS holiday party, you meet up with Sylus in the most festive attire you have in your closet.

note: for @silverrings-n-prettythings, merry christmas bitch ily

Holiday parties with mandatory attendance rules were stupid.

You understood and somewhat respected the desire to reward the team for their efforts this year and give them an opportunity to relax, but requiring attendance at the event made the party less of a party and more of a team meeting. Your pre-existing plans be damned, “team bonding” was more important than the dinner reservations your partner had made. Despite how exclusive the restaurant was, how difficult it was to get those reservations - it was the party over anything and you did fear retaliatory missions should you choose to skip.

Tara had tried over the last week to get you to bring the boyfriend she’d yet to meet, seeing this as the golden opportunity to finally meet the mysterious Skye - “If that was his real name”. Every suggestion that you use your right to a plus one is shot down, but you don’t correct her on his name or the way the excitedly slipped off the morning of the party when you’d tiredly mumbled something sarcastic regarding his appearance that evening.

Her disappointment when you show up alone is almost enough to make you feel bad. Almost. But you wear your sweater, a bright red garment decorated with white snowflakes and black feathers and at the front read Santa Caws with a Grumpy Crow wearing a santa hat. Everyone could be well aware that you didn’t want to be there and would only be there long enough to be noticed before you left, but they couldn’t say that you were trying to be a buzzkill. You drank, chatted, danced, and had a merry time with your coworkers until your phone vibrated in your back pocket.

Sylus

6:04pm

Fifteen minutes, sweetie.

Sylus

6:04pm

Don’t keep me waiting.

Your exit is well timed, making sure to grab the box you were eyeing from the white elephant table on your way out in adherence to the rules. It wasn’t anything fancy or expensive, but it was necessary for you to make sure you had the last laugh against Sylus tonight.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” Tara asks, speech slurred as an accusatory finger is pointed in your direction. “It’s only-“

“I still have reservations to make, Tara. I’ll see you on Monday, get home safe!”

She’s too tipsy to be able to catch you before the elevator door closes, and you lean against the wall with a sigh of relief at finally being free from that party. You were having fun, but even forty-five minutes was too long when you knew Sylus was waiting for you.

The elevator doesn’t move fast enough, the security locks take too long to register and record your credentials (and take even longer to actually unlock the doors) but it’s all worth it when you’re finally stepping out of the Hunter Association building and into the crisp winter air outside.

“That sweater is more of a crime than anything that’s ever occurred in the N109 zone.”

The pot was certainly calling the kettle black here, as Sylus was wearing a green cardigan that was obnoxious with every move he made; covered in little bells, garland, and lights that decorated the little tree shapes knitted into the fabric. Luke and Kieran certainly delivered when you’d asked for them to produce the worst thing they could find for him to wear for your date this evening. But still, even in something so heinous, Sylus’ figure was imposing as he leaned against the car that would be your chariot for the evening.

“Mine doesn’t alert everything in a five mile radius of my position when I breathe,” you retort, poking his chest and being in delight when the bells sounded in response. “But nice try.”

He only chuckles, opening the door of the vehicle for you to slide into the passenger’s seat. You set the box down at your feet as Sylus makes his way around to the driver’s seat.

You tell him about your day as he drives, answering the questions he had about the party you were at and your coworker’s - specifically Tara - suspicions regarding your dating life.

“You know, considering you run around with various pictures of me on hand and nobody has said anything, I’m sure you could’ve brought me to your work party.”

“While you’re right, I do like keeping you to myself.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m very possessive, Sylus.”

“I’m very aware, sweetie.” He winks, the action bringing a fresh heat to your cheeks as he continues. “Perhaps I want to see what happens when a kitten’s territory is threatened.”

“I’d have to be insecure to feel threatened,” you counter, smirking in your victory when he hums his approval. “Our uninterrupted time together is often limited, so if I don’t have to share your attention I’m not going to.”

“A sentiment we share, my bell.”

Your dinner is quiet, some patrons of the restaurant also dressed to match the season while others were dressed more formal to match the usual atmosphere of this restaurant. The restaurant overlooks the amusement park, treating you to a holiday light show as you eat your dinner at one of the coveted balcony tables. Despite the chill, you’re kept warm by the various fire pits going strong among the tables and you’re further warmed by Sylus’ attentive gaze as you discuss plans for the holiday and upcoming new year.

“I know you said not to worry about moving the reservation, but I do want to apologize for the inconvenience it must’ve been for you.”

“I appreciate your concern, but it actually worked out for the better because it meant I could secure this table.”

“That’s good to hear then. You should probably make next year’s reservations in advance.”

What were you saying? Making plans for a year in advance when tomorrow was barely guaranteed in your line of work? When you didn’t even know where your separate occupations would lead you? It was silly to make suggestions like that and you’re a bit embarrassed that you would try to.

“A good idea, sweetie.”

The praise has you grinning despite your embarrassment, clearly worried for no reason when he hasn’t even blinked at the suggestion. Maybe he was just as hopeful as you were for continued tomorrows that would carry you to the next holiday and every one after that?

“Let’s finish our ice cream, wouldn’t want the light maze line to get too terribly long.”

The line for the maze moves quickly, and soon you’re holding onto Sylus’ hand tightly as you move through the maze. Even with the balcony overlooking a section of the maze, the lights decorating the walls and other lost adventurers made it difficult to truly find your bearings in the structure. But you’re with Sylus and this time With him feels sacred, so you’re truly enjoying every minute with him that you have. You can’t help but think that you’d like to do this every year with him, exploring the light maze and watching the light shows while wearing ugly sweaters in the fanciest restaurant in Linkon City. The thought makes you slow down, something that Sylus definitely notices if the way he pulls you to the side is any indicator. It’s a good place to stop, not in the way of anyone else exploring the light maze and you’re grateful for the moment to be away from others as you stand at the dead end.

“You’re thinking hard, sweetie.” His observation with coupled with a hand on your cheek, and you smile up at him in an effort to assure him that you were alright. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Yeah, I was just thinking that I’d like to spend every holiday season watching the lights here with you,” you murmur, your arms winding around his neck tightly as he leans in to lift you into his arms so he could comfortably rest his forehead against yours. His hands are warm through your jeans as they support your weight, and you feel your cheeks get even warmer at your intimate positioning in such a public space.

“I’ll do everything in my power to make sure I get to see the lights decorating your eyes, silver bell.”

You want to argue that it’s him the lights compliment more, pale skin illuminated by the soft hues surrounding you in the light maze. Ruby red irises sparkle with the reflection of twinkling lights, the sight mesmerizing and further complimented by his soft smile as he looks at you.

“The things I’d do to you if we weren’t in the middle of an amusement park.”

“Tell the twins to set up some lights in your bedroom, you can act on it all there.” You suggest, grin stretching across your face when he lets out a hum indicating that he was satisfied with your suggestion. “Just without the jingling sweater.”

For emphasis, you flick one of the bells sitting at the collar of his cardigan, warning a chuckle from your silver haired lover before he leans in to capture your lips in a kiss.

It’s saccharine, sweeter than the ice cream you’d shared on the balcony and carrying every sentiment let unsaid between you. The lights around you only make the moment more magical, and you wish there was a camera that could capture this moment but at the same time are grateful that this would live in your memories alone.

“It seems I’ve defeated the purpose of the mistletoe you’ve had on you since you left your party.” He teases, voice a murmur against your lips as you grin.

“That’s for later tonight,” you inform, pressing your lips to his in a chaste peck. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

After all, how was he supposed to expect that it was going to go around your waist?

#sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #I will tag this better in the morning #but as long as silver reads this idgaf honestly

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evilslushy · 3 days ago

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hii!! i <3 ur fics, could u write one abt y/n finding out she's pregnant with her bf (hamzah) 's baby, and she tells him in some cute way and maybe with some fluff/smut?? i just feel like hamzah has such a breeder kink that he would love it😭

When the Time Is Right

Husband!Hamzah x f!reader

(A/N): lowkey proofread this (#ChristmasMiracles) I apologize, this is actually horrifically bad. One of the reasons why and honestly—it’s on me! I should’ve made a detailed request rules post! >_< but i hate anything that has to do with pregnancy—being pregnant—anything of that sort! I was really struggling with this and I tried to change it up to them trying for a baby after many failed attempts but… I still think this is HORRIBLE ;( I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me after taking so long to get back to you with a really shitty version of that you asked for </3

High-key angst, mentions of failed attempts of pregnancies, borderline smut but not really, still—MDNI!

wc: 1.3k

As awkward as it is to say out loud, you and Hamzah have been trying for a baby for some time now. And as much as it breaks your heart to see those pregnancy tests showing negative results, it hurts even more to witness the disappointment in Hamzah’s eyes.

You both try to mask your pain with hopeful smiles and encouraging words, but the silence that follows each failed attempt grows heavier. Hamzah, ever the optimist, often reassures you, saying, “It’ll happen when the time is right.” Yet, you’ve caught him more than once staring into the distance, lost in thought, his expression tinged with longing whenever the topic is brought up.

Today was no exception to your previous attempts, your husband sneaking beside you—your eyes meeting his, hesitantly. “What’s wrong?” He uses elbow to prop himself beside you, moving your hair away from your face with his other hand. It rested on your shoulder, messaging it a bit to help set some comfort for you.

“I’m…” you began, but the words stuck in your throat. Taking a deep breath, you tried again. “I know how badly you want this.” You looked away briefly, then added, “And I want it too.” You needed him to understand that this wasn’t something you felt pressured into—it was something you both deeply desired.

His face softened, his gaze full of understanding. “I know,” he said quietly. “We can try another day if you just want to sleep tonight.” His hand moved up and down your arm in soothing strokes before slipping down to intertwine his fingers with yours.

You shook your head. “No. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” he asked gently.

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed again.”

He snorted softly, a playful edge to his response. “You’re being ridiculous. Baby, I’m not disappointed.” You looked up at him, leaning into his chest, your lips pressing into a slight pout. “I see how sad you get. It makes me sad,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

Hamzah’s expression shifted, and he used the hand holding yours to guide it over his waist. Then he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, cradling you against him as if to shield you from the weight of your own worries. “I’m not sad,” he said firmly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I told you before, it’ll happen at the right time.”

You hummed against his chest, the arm that wrapped around you moving up and down as his fingers ghostly ran across your back. You shivered, looking back up at your husband after hiding in his chest for a few minutes. He looked down—smiling at you. The gap between your lips closing, his smile felt against your lips.

He flipped you away from his body, hovering over you; his lips still attached to yours. Your hands slipping under his loose fitted shirt, feeling for his waist to pull him towards you. The way he kisses you alone shows you how much dedication he has for you. He sighs into the kiss, pulling away to take his shirt off. Taking the hint from your lingering hands.

You smile at him, the proud and excited smile on his face made you break into a fit of giggles. His index finger hooks the elastic band of your pajama shorts, pulling them away from you then letting it go so it’d snap back and hit your skin. Leaning down to kiss you again while his finger hooked your shorts off your legs.

A moan slipped out of your throat—sounding like a groan in pain, making him pull away to see what’s wrong. His lips were left plumper, eyes lidded—chest heaving. The sensual air thick around him, your heart skips a beat.

He raised his eyebrow, indicating his curiosity. “You okay?” He asked. Everything about this, his tone, his warmth, the energy around you. It could send you to sleep. Your hand reaches for his hip, moving upwards to caress his waist. “Yeah.” You cup his face, creasing his cheeks by rubbing your thumbs up and down.

Hamzah’s eyes wandered over your features, studying you intently, as if memorizing every detail of your expression. Slowly, his face leaned toward your right hand, his cheek pressing softly into your palm. His lips curved into a faint smile, and for a moment, the world outside your shared bubble seemed to disappear.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his tone inviting you to open up but never pushing. His hand slid up to cover yours on his cheek, his fingers warm and grounding. “You don’t have to keep everything inside, you know. Are you not feeling it?”

His words made your chest tighten, not in a painful way, but in that overwhelming way love and vulnerability often do. “I just don’t wanna let you down,” you admitted softly, your voice breaking slightly.

Hamzah shook his head, his smile faint as his hand squeezed yours gently. “You could never let me down,” he said firmly, his gaze locking with yours.

The way he looked at you made your heart flutter, a warmth spreading through your chest that both comforted and unsettled you. His fingers slid from your hand to your wrist, his touch light but intentional as he guided your hand down to rest against his chest. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm, grounding yet electrifying.

“Such a pretty girl. Pretty for me.” He murmured, his voice lower now, the edges softened by the intimacy of the moment. His other hand settled at your waist, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles that sent a ripple of heat through you.

You blinked, unable to form words, your breath catching as he leaned in closer. The faintest smile tugged at his lips before he tilted his head, brushing his nose against yours in a gesture so tender it made your pulse race.

“Hamzah…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but it was enough to draw him in further.

His lips hovered over yours, teasingly close, his breath warm against your skin. “Tell me what you need,” he said softly, his tone a mix of care and something deeper, something that made your cheeks flush.

Your hand slid down his chest, fingers curling around the fabric of the hems of his shirt. That was all he needed to feel.

His lips met yours again, gently, with a hunger that had been building. His hand pressed beside your head to hold himself above you. The kiss was slow at first, unhurried and deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every moment. But as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging him closer, his restraint began to waver.

The world around you blurred; the only thing that mattered was the way his touch ignited every nerve in your body, making you forget everything except him. Every issue you’d faced, every tear you've cried, every painful heart tug melted into an intoxicating sensation you couldn’t get enough of.

He hummed against your lips. His hand moved, slowly, from your waist to your knee, bending it upwards—spreading your leg away to settle in between them. A quiet gasp left your lips at his sudden change in manner. His hand slipped down from your knees to your thigh, settling past it on your hip. Squeezing as he pulled away.

His lips began to trail kisses on from your jaw to your neck, the way his breathing brushed against your skin made your heart feel warm, even in these situations where lust would be the only thing you’d want to feel, his love would wash down on you intensely.

Your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. Enjoying the feeling of your husband’s sensual touch on you.

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x reader #deer’s reqs!#slushy noobz #hamzah fluff #hamzah x y/n #hamzah imagines #hamzah smut #hamzah the fantastic #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #x reader

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runninriot · 3 days ago

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A Christmas Wish Come True

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 25

prompt: Christmas | rated: G | wc: 1.000 | tags: Eddie & Wayne Munson, single dad Steve, found family, strangers to lovers

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | AO3 (+ bonus epilogue)

“So, wanna tell me about your little side gig as grandpa, Wayne?”

It was meant as a joke but his voice sounds angrier than he intended and it makes Eddie instantly feel bad.

“I’m sorry. It’s just- why haven’t you told me?”

“Look, that kid, Robbie, she only has her dad. And Steve is doing his best raising her all alone but- you know how me met? I’d just gotten off work, drove by his house and saw him sitting there on the front porch, looking like he was two seconds away from a mental breakdown. That man was a mess and he needed someone to take him by the hand. So, I reached out mine and he took it.”

He scrubs a hand over his chin, a habit he always has when he’s deep in thoughts.

“I wanted to tell ya, I just didn’t find the right moment. And I was a little worried you’d have a problem with it. I know you had a thing for that boy back in high school and I didn’t know if you guys had ever been... close, so-“

“No, no! Back up, Wayne. What?”

Eddie’s mouth falls open in shock. It’s not like he ever had to hide the fact that he likes guys – Wayne always knew, always accepted Eddie for all he is. But never, not once, did he mention his stupid infatuation with Steve. There’s no fucking way his uncle knew.

“Oh, don’t act so surprised. Every single piece of paper lying around your mess of a room had a little heart with Steve’s name on it.”

Oh, right.

“Okay, I give you that but why would you think we’ve been like, together? Even you must see how ridiculous that is. Have you looked at the man?”

Eddie bites his tongue before he says something like ‘He’s way too perfect to be with someone like me’. Wayne doesn’t need to know that he’s still got heart eyes for Steve and he already said too much.

“Yeah, I saw. I also heard how he talked about you. How he got all soft when he talked about all the mischief you were up to in high school. That cost me all my hair by the way, so thanks for that.”

Wayne laughs and Eddie would too, if he wasn’t so confused right now.

“Whether you knew it or not, that boy liked you. And seeing you two today, I’m pretty sure you still have that in common. You are both so bad at hiding it.”

Their conversation did not mess Eddie up. It didn't, okay? And he's definitely not nervous when he opens the door for Steve and Robbie to come in, right on time for Christmas dinner.

It doesn't make him feel like he's vibrating out of his skin when Steve takes the seat next to him, so close their knees occasionally touch.

And it doesn't cause a full-body shiver when their hands accidentally brush while reaching for the same bread.

It's fine. Everything is fine. Wayne doesn't know what he's talking about. There's nothing between them. No sparks, no fire, no longing glances. They’re just two small families celebrating Christmas together. Nothing more.

That's why, when Eddie excuses himself to have a smoke outside after dinner, and Steve follows him, he doesn't think much of it.

But of course, reality always comes crashing in. And when Steve huddles closer, stands right next to him, sharing his cigarette like that’s normal, Eddie can’t take it anymore.

“Wanna hear something funny?” he asks, trying hard to control the tremble in his voice.

“Wayne thought you and I were, you know, a thing in high school. That’s why he didn’t tell me about meeting you.”

Eddie laughs but it sounds fake, and for a long moment, all Steve does is look at him, eyes piercing like they’re trying to see into Eddie’s soul.

“Mhm, very funny,” he then says but doesn't sound amused at all.

“No, it really is, because I had the biggest crush on you back then."

Eddie swallows, looks, waits. Doesn't know what for because it feels like anything could happen.

"Had?" It almost sounds like a tease but Eddie can sense that Steve's nervous.

"Would it be bad if it was still true?" Eddie asks, unsure of where this is going.

"Depends.” Steve answers, a tentative smile on his lips, “Would it be bad if I wanted to kiss you right now?"

Eddie isn't sure if he's still breathing and if his heart's still beating because the world is spinning too fast and-

His lips are on Steve's, testing, pressing, and there are hands in his hair, and the night becomes day, and everything feels right, feels good, feels like something finally clicks into place.

They kiss until their lungs hurt, kiss some more after a giggle fit. Kiss again until the door opens and Robbie is standing before them with wide eyes.

"Oh, sh-oot! Hey, baby! Sorry, Eddie and I were just-"

"Thank you, Santa!" Robbie yells against the sky and Eddie's heart explodes.

The worry on Steve's face makes way for confusion and Eddie feels bad for cheating because contrary to Steve, he's in on Robbie's secret.

"Grandpa Wayne said to tell you we're having hot chocolate and cookies for dessert."

"We'll be right there," Eddie answers for Steve, who still seems a little frozen in place.

Once the door closes behind her, Steve releases a shaky breath.

"That- did not go like I thought it would."

For a moment, Eddie worries Steve's going to take it back. That the shock broke him out of whatever spell he was under.

But Steve kisses him again, before taking his hand to lead them back inside, where Wayne greets them with a smug smile. Eddie can practically hear the 'I told you so' but that's okay.

He's happy Wayne was right.

Happy that a little girl's wish aligned so perfectly with his own.

A Christmas wish come true.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne munson #single dad steve #steddie #steddie fic #steddie holiday drabbles

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tenderleavesbob · 3 days ago

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This turned out more bittersweet than originally planned. Still. Merry Christmas!

Warriors called Lana “sweet” and “a friend” and never said a bad word about it, but Legend couldn’t help but be leery of the blue-haired sorceress. Warriors spoke kindly of her, but Legend saw how he didn’t linger near her. He watched how Lana stared after Warriors and how General Impa glared at her every time.

There was also something familiar about her. Something terrifying. Like there was something vast hidden in her slender body. Legend didn’t like it.

He also didn’t like how Lana was watching Warriors now. Legend sat on the stone wall several feet away from her and observed his brothers. Time was stretched out on the grass, resting his weight on his palms with his long legs extended in front of him. Warriors was teasing Wind. He would ruffle his hair and dodge away when Wind tried to retaliate.

“The timeline was broken,” Lana said quietly, breaking the silence between them. She didn’t look away from Warriors. Despite the power Legend felt radiating from her, the longing in her eyes was all too human. “The war was awful, but we were able to use it to bind the timelines together into something whole. The Hero of the Wild comes from the united timeline.”

Legend hummed but said nothing. She waited, as if expecting a response. When none came, she continued.

“It made me think that maybe the Lady Hylia planned it,” Lana said. “Or one of the goddesses had. Maybe more. They don’t talk to me anymore.”

Anymore. Legend filed that away.

In front of them, Wind had successfully tackled Warriors into the grass. Warriors was yelling about his hair while Time sat up to clap. Wind crowed with victory. It made Legend’s heart ache, reminded him of simpler times.

“I think it was more than just that now,” Lana continued softly. She nodded at the trio. “Link… the other heroes from the other timelines helped him, but he could have won on his own. It would have been harder, but he could have done it. I thought for a long time that the other heroes were sent to help him, but now I wonder if it was so Link could help them.”

Legend looked sharply at her. She hunched her slender shoulders. She didn’t look back at him. She continued, her voice quieter than ever, “I think Link was given a different duty during the war. And now. The Hero of Time. The Hero of Wind. He taught them so much during the war. I didn’t see it then, but I see it in the Hero of Time now. I wonder how differently he would have been without Link’s love and guidance. He’s an adult now and will be the father of a great guideline. He was a great warrior as a child, but someone capable of that?” She smiled sadly. Her eyes followed Warriors like she couldn’t bear to look away. “The Hero of Wind is also destined for greatness. I have to wonder how much of that was aided by Link’s teachings and guidance?”

Legend bit the inside of his cheek and looked back at the trio. Warriors was sprawled in the grass, Wind still triumphantly on his torso. Legend knew and he knew Time knew that the only way Wind could have dropped Warriors was with his consent. Based on the pride shining from Wind’s face, he didn’t know, and no one was going to tell him.

When Time listened to no one else, he listened to Warriors. When he grew tense and angry, Warriors calmed him like Twilight calmed Epona.

Legend hadn’t thought about it before, but now he wondered.

“I think it was never about them helping him,” Lana said. “I don’t think I’ll ever know for sure. I don’t have the eyes to see anymore.”

“Maybe,” Legend said pointedly, “it’s because you keep staring in the wrong direction.”

Lana flinched and at last looked away from Warriors. Legend couldn’t feel guilty for it. Not when Warriors looked away from Wind and saw Lana there. Not when his brother’s smile faltered and his ears flattened. Wind poked his shoulder and Warriors turned to him with a bright smile, but it didn’t look so genuine anymore.

“Bad things happen when people lose sight of their responsibilities,” Legend said, voice hard with warning. Her power reminded him of the Oracles. He placed it, but it didn’t make him feel any better. It did nothing to soothe the new weight on his shoulders.

“Yes,” Lana said quietly. “They do. Have a good day, Hero of Legend.” She bowed her head at him and got up. Legend tensed when she looked back over her shoulder one more time at his brother, but Warriors didn’t look back. Without a word, Lana walked away.

Legend caught Time’s eye. Time nodded once at him. In silence, they turned back to watch their laughing brothers. There was a horrific story there between the four. Legend didn’t know, and with the memory of the shadows in Warriors’s eyes, he knew he wouldn’t ask.

He would pay more attention, though. It turned out that Warriors held more secrets than he ever could have thought.

#lu warriors #tl scribbles #lu time #lu legend #lu wind #hw lana

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eliza-and-her-monsters · 2 days ago

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the tortured poets department

Info Post

Moodboards

Part I

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TW: This chapter contains physical violence, bullying towards neurodivergent/autistic people, vi being a biiiit of a dick, and jinx just being a chaotic mess (we love her)

WC: 4.5k

Part III

bad blood

“Can you read mine?” I blurted out once I returned to the full table where Jinx was scanning through her cards once more. My hands and cheeks were probably as red as rubies as I took my seat, and hoped to actually stay in it for a while this time.

“I can, but just so you know I am simply a messenger and if the cards need to call you out then they will.” She explained with a clearly targeted scowl towards Ellie.

“You’re into this kind of thing?” Vi wondered with a soft nudge of my foot underneath the table as she was already lounging back against the couch.

“A little, yeah.” I shrugged simply before turning back towards Jinx with a small flush on my cheeks. “Go ahead, I’m ready to be called out.”

“Excellent.” Jinx grinned in a way that I could only describe as maniacal as she whipped out a lighter and a bundle of what looked like dried grass squeezed together with twine.

“Ummm, aren’t you not supposed to have an open flame in here?” Ellie chirped almost anxiously from her spot.

“Geez, you guys really are so tense. Why don’t you take a breath?” An unfamiliar voice chimed in from across the table immediately causing Ellie’s head to pop up in the direction of the girl that had spoke. Dina, I believed is what her name was tossed back her long black hair over her shoulder. “Jinx has only blown up a couple of things anyways.”

“That is an absolutely wild thing to say.” Ellie enunciated in what could almost be read as horror. “You understand how that’s an absolutely wild thing to say right?”

“Relax, you’re not supposed to have a lot of things in here. Firearms, explosives, the weed Vi has stashed in her bag and what she’s definitely going to smoke later.” Jinx drawled on as she expertly blew out the flame sparked on the bunched up grass before letting the smoke envelop the tarot deck with ease.

“What the hell, dude! Be a little bit quieter whenever you say that!” Vi voiced with a mild groan.

“You can shuffle, in any way you want.” Jinx responded without a care in the world as she passed the deck off towards me.

“Okay… cool.” I spoke, retrieving my frostbitten and clearly shaking hands from my pockets.

“Mills, you look like you’re freezing, do you want this?” Ellie questioned with a gentle nudge as she was already reaching for the edges of her flannel to pull it off.

“It’s all good, it was my fault anyways. I’ve got it.” Vi chimed in with a clear of her throat as she shrugged the leather jacket from her shoulders. I could’ve gasped at the large muscles on display, the tattoos stretching from her back and down her arms, one of which just slightly concealed by a layer of bandages wrapped around her forearm which nearly had me thinking the worst at first had it not been for the other injuries sprinkled around her body. One atop her bicep by her shoulders and one just off to the side of her chest. Suddenly the underground fighting ring made sense.

“God, you are such a fucking whore. Can you not distract her while I’m trying to give her a reading?” Jinx groaned in annoyance as she gave her a subtle shove even though it looked as if Vi could overpower her pretty easily.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so insecure in my life actually.” Ellie mumbled to herself with a bit of a grimace. “God, I really need to hit the gym.”

“Hockey players usually work out together a few times a week if you wanna come.” Vi directed towards Ellie with a knowing smirk just before I could feel the leather jacket being draped over my shoulders. It was so warm I nearly felt every bit of the cold from outside melting away, her distinctive masculine scent still lingering now even more so. “You can come too, doll.”

The heat in my cheeks remained as I slid my arms through the oversized jacket that could’ve nearly swallowed me. “Maybe.” I answered with a tiny shrug as I shuffled the cards around in my hand, every attempt to look cool probably muddled by how flustered I seemed to be with every little comment she made. “Here.” I cleared my throat as I handed the cards back to the curious Jinx.

“Alright… here we go.” She practically smirked as she pulled three cards from the deck and spread them out in front of me before flipping the first one over with a flourish. Immediately my heart seemed to twist in my chest at the art piece scrawled across: Death. “Nice, I don’t see that one often!” Jinx seemed much too cheerful at the sight as she reached across the table to give me a pat on the back.

“Ummm… wh-what does that mean?” I stammered with widened eyes.

“Relax new girl, Death doesn’t always mean actual death, usually it just means… like, losing a certain part of your life. Or even killing off a part of yourself. It’s a sign something in your life needs to be let go of, something that isn’t serving you anymore. Now… next up we have-” she began with a flip of the next one, “The Lovers. Questionable at best.”

“I thought the lovers was a good card.” Ellie spoke in confusion from next to me.

“You would think, the true card of love is oftentimes seen as Two of Cups though. The Lovers itself represents… choices, you could say. Choices, temptations, with the addition of the death card it could also indicate sacrifice?” She shrugged as if delivering the most casual piece of news ever before flipping over the last card. “Seven of Cups, you’re a daydreamer, aren’t you?” She questioned with probably the first genuine smile I had seen her crack since we’d been here.

“Being a writer, yeah, kind of comes with the territory.” I said with a nervous smile of my own.

“Keep it up, because you could find purpose in those daydreams.“ It seemed so simple compared to the other two cards, so much so I nearly felt myself hyperfixating on that one card alone even as she slid everything back into place. “Sweet, that was an intense one, but definitely juicy.”

“That’s one way to put it, I guess.” I stated with the same heat creeping back up into my cheeks almost annoyingly.

I didn’t feel super talkative throughout the rest of the night besides a quick rush to the bathroom to deliver the news of the kiss to Ellie. It was still hard to gauge her reaction. I almost wondered if she’d be happier if it was someone else, anyone else besides the fighting hockey player who had fucked my sister a solid few times. And maybe she had a point. Ellie was a quiet sort of protective though. She never stopped me from doing anything, she would give her thoughts in private declarations, and was always there if things went south. I guess maybe that’s why it was hard to know how she felt.

Luckily for her own overactive imagination though, she was a lightweight. Two beers in and it became as easy as ever for her to drag herself into her own room and knock out. I wish it could’ve been the same for me, or I drank more either way because the moment I curled up in bed sleep became impossible.

My thoughts were completely consumed by her. Her unruly and spiky pink hair she probably stained every surface with dying. The scent of her cologne that I wished lingered just a little bit longer. The feel of her warm hands on my body with her husky voice and muscular frame.

No, sleep wasn’t anywhere near in my future.

It was past 8 whenever Ellie finally woke up to find me hunched over my laptop in the living room and surrounded with various pieces of ripped paper and my journal plopped face down on the coffee table. “Woah, you’re up early.” She spoke through a yawn as she rubbed at her eyes.

“I never went to sleep.” I answered without looking up from my laptop, fingers flying across the keys.

“Christ.” Ellie cursed under her breath as she smacked her open palm against her face. “Millie, you should’ve came and got me if you were having trouble sleeping.” She groaned, shuffling forward in her mothman slippers to plop down next to me. “Babe, hands off of the keyboard for a second.” She ordered, gentle but stern hands wrapping around my wrists to pry them from the keys.

“No wait, not yet! They’re about to have their meet cute! Their- Their inciting incident.” I protested as Ellie snatched the laptop from my grasp, eyes briefly scanning over the lit up screen.

“Are you- Are you writing a love story?” She wondered in almost shock. “I thought you were working on a tragedy.”

“All love stories are inherently tragedies.” I spoke, twirling a pen I had stolen from the coffee table in between my fingers as the sudden thought sprung up into my head. “To love is to- is to-” I groaned a bit at the blurry end of the sentence somewhere in my mind, quickly flipping to an empty page of my journal to scribble down the words. “To love is be vulnerable. No, no, that’s not it.” I huffed as I roughly marked out the words. “To love is to accept loss- but love isn’t always accepting though.”

“You know love isn’t supposed to feel like that.” Ellie sighed a bit, gentle fingers carefully tucking the stray strands of hair out of my face as they had escaped from the loose ponytail a while ago.

I blew out another hefty sigh as I hunched forward to bury my head in my arms. “I’m sorry you have to deal with my mania.”

“You’re not making me deal with anything… I’m your best friend. It’s part of it.” She spoke with a shake of her head, gentle but strong arms coming upwards to tug me away from the mess of the coffee table. “C’mon, you need to get some sleep. I’ll be your pillow.”

“You just woke up, and I thought you had practice.” I protested even though I never wanted to say no to her offer of cuddles. Maybe it was inappropriate and I was a bit too obsessed with cuddles. It felt like since I was a kid it had always been hard to fall asleep without a body next to me. I couldn’t count the times I had snuck off to Caitlyn’s room in the middle of the night and crawled underneath the blankets with her. It was just the security of being next to someone. Sometimes an illusion. But I think I was okay with illusions for now.

“Not until later, and it’s only for a few hours before club rush.” Ellie answered just before stretching her longer legs across the length of the couch giving me few choices but to snuggle into her chest. “I wouldn’t mind a little bit more shut eye though, I just wanted to check on you.”

“Wake me up before you leave?” My voice sounded half muffled burrowed in her black shirt.

“Not a chance.” She denied, lounging her head against the arm rest of the couch to use as a makeshift pillow. “You can wake up on your own time and then if we’re still practicing you can meet me at the rink to watch.” She said hopefully causing a little grin to stretch on my lips.

“Sheesh, no wonder people think we’re dating. You’re a stage 5 clinger.” I teased with a giggle.

“Okay, who is the one currently clung to me like a damn koala right now? Sorry I forgot.”

“Dipshit.” I gave her shoulder a playful shove just before curling back up to her chest, it was hard not to get tired with her cuddles. She was soft, the quiet thump of her heartbeat always echoed in my ears, she kept her breathing steady, a calm rise and fall that she timed with the soothing circles she always rubbed on my back. And she smelled exactly like the way I imagined skipping through a wildflower field would. “I love you.” I murmured in a sleepy voice, my heavy eyes finally drawing to a close.

“I love you too, squirt.” I could faintly hear her voice just before I felt myself doze off.

Whenever I woke up again Ellie was already long gone, a blanket draped over top of me and a large squishmallow shoved underneath my head to act as a pillow. The apartment felt weird being empty, a few boxes that had yet to be unpacked scattered around the area and I had to fight the urge to start trying to unpack some more. Then I would probably never leave.

The lack of sleep still weighed heavily on my brain but at least I didn’t feel like I was going to keel over anymore. I threw myself in the shower for a hot second hoping it would wake me up, and thankfully it sort of did. I decided on a simple band hoodie and a pair of leggings after shooting a text to Caitlyn and asking what the dress code for club rush was. Luckily there really wasn’t one.

I rubbed at the sleep in my eyes before going to place my glasses back on my face before an alternate thought crossed my mind. I usually didn’t wear my contacts, they were difficult to get in and occasionally weren’t sensory friendly but… maybe it could be time for a change. So with a heavy breath I plopped the little pieces of plastic into my eyes, a string of blinks and a few watery tears following.

I speed braided a strand of my hair before tossing it up into a low ponytail. Then sending Ellie a quick text for a coffee order while packing my things up for a semi busy day, headphones, medicine, notebooks, laptop etc…

Ellie Sunshine ☀️: the rink actually has a sick coffee bar you have to check out 🤭

Ellie Sunshine ☀️: also abby is out for blood today- if i die just know i want to be planted into a tree. willow specifically.

Millie Moon 🌙: i’ll avenge you bby g

Ellie Sunshine ☀️: AVENGE ME MILLIE!! AVENGE ME!!

I let out a giggle at her text messages before slipping my phone back into my pocket and shoving my AirPods into my ears before I could go and retrieve my bike. I always felt a level of anxiety whenever I walked outside alone and I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the general sense that things were well and truthfully changing. I was trying to be independent though. It’s not as if Ellie and I had every single class together, there were bound to be some days we’d leave at different times. I needed to get used to it.

The indoor hockey rink was a tall and intimidating structure. Designed to look like a ship it looked more like a dystopian hell than anything. Grey and cold and the dreary weather of Oxford didn’t help either.

Practice was already in full swing working on scoring or a scrimmage or… I wasn’t entirely sure. Sports were never really my thing, nevertheless though I never turned down the chance to go to a game with Caitlyn. Call it the gay in me, I guess. That little aspect suddenly made her relationship with Vi make more sense. She was a beast on the ice, a ruthless animal who wasn’t afraid to get too rough. Not rough in the way that her teammate Abby Anderson seemed to get though. Ellie was right. She did seem to be out for blood with the way she zipped around the ice and treated her stick like it was an extension of her arm.

I gnawed on my bottom lip as I scanned the rink for Ellie’s figure while digging out my notebook. I was so glad she had finally gotten a chance to play. Playing all through high school only to have most of her time overtook by the army afterwards, she was almost afraid she was too out of practice to get back into it. She was great though, better than any typical freshman, I swore she nearly cried whenever she finally got her jersey. Proud to have her name on something for once.

A little smile stretched on my lips at the sight of her whipping around the ice with ease, a slight glimpse of unkept pink hair took my attention though as she skated in towards the puck from the opposite side. The name: Violence written in place of a last name on the back of her jersey. “Ugh, I can’t believe they let her do that.” I heard a scoff from behind me, flinching just the slightest bit before I could around to face the sound. Jinx stood on the row behind me, blue braids spun up into two thick space buns secured at the bottom of her head. “Violence. It’s so cheesy.” She hopped down into the same row as me, plopping down in the seat next to mine before lounging back on her elbows. “So- come here often?” She teased with a waggle of her eyebrows causing me to let out a little laugh.

“Uhhh… no, actually, Ellie wanted me to meet her at practice though so- I’m here.” I said with a tiny shrug while twirling my pencil around my fingers.

“What’re you working on?” Jinx wondered next with a quick change of subject as she gave my notebook a little nudge.

“Oh uhhh… just this like- song thing, I guess you could call it. I started it last night I just, you know, had this chorus in my head.” I answered with a bit of heat creeping up into my cheeks. “Y-You can read it if you want.” I wondered cautiously, always expecting the worst, but I swore I could’ve seen Jinx’s eyes light up in that moment.

“Oh! Word?!” She exclaimed with a grin before snatching the notebook from my hands without hesitation. “I’d love to!” She grinned before letting her eyes scan over the page. All the while I fidgeted with the ends of my sleeves hoping my one paragraphed unedited chorus wasn’t too bad. “Woah- you are quite down bad over somebody if I must say. I mean, it’s good! It’s definitely good… but- definitely down bad.”

My cheeks felt as rosy as ever and not just because of the cold as I shook my head, but not in denial. “I’m- I don’t know what’s going on with me. I-I haven’t felt this way since-“

“Ellie?” Jinx predicted with ease causing my eyes to widen in surprise.

“Wha- wh-why would you think that? I mean, don’t you have a close friend that everybody thinks you’re dating?”

Jinx only snickered with a smirk as she gave me a quick nudge, “Nope.” She said almost proudly with a loud pop. “I get why you guys aren’t together though, dating your mental hospital roomie can get complicated. I mean, I’m not saying that dating Vi wouldn’t be complicated either but-”

“Wait, how did you? I- I never told you any of that.”

“Doggy, was yesterday not a clue? I stay eavesdropping, I’m in everybody else’s business but my own. Especially my sister’s.” Jinx explained without a hint of shame, and I almost had to respect it.

“I- I don’t know how I feel about you watching me make out with your sister.” I spoke with my eyebrows furrowing together in response, but all I got from Jinx was a loud gasp as she gave me a little swat.

“Oh my God, new girl! I didn’t listen in to that point! Holy shit!” She practically squealed but all it made me do was cringe in anxiety. “Well, whatever it is you’re into, you might wanna figure it out. You’re not the only one who’s got a little crush.” Jinx hummed as she gave me a little nudge and gestured off towards one of the other sides of the rink where the same girl from last night was stood. Black hair tied up in a low ponytail this time, arms crossed as she peered into the rink with a look of fierce concentration.

“Well, I want Ellie to be happy so- if Ellie likes her then… I would be okay with it.” I voiced, though trying to hide the general crushing weight that crept into my chest just at the mere mention. The same ache Ellie had told me about last night. “Besides, she doesn’t like me like that- she made it really clear.”

“Did she? Because I know we’re not exactly experts at reading human emotions.”

“Well, I’m an expert at reading Ellie at least.” I shrugged with a little sigh.

A commotion knocked us both from our conversation though, a little breath hitching in my throat the moment I saw Abby’s gloved hands on Ellie again. “Stop!” I yelped out in anxiety, briefly remembering the memory of her telling me about the plethora of injuries she had received from the explosion that had changed everything, a TBI staring right at me in glowing red lights.

Their helmets went rolling down the ice as I watched the two girls hit the floor, “Fucks sake, Abby!” Ellie groaned in pain as her bare cheekbone touched the ice. Thankfully she was strong and knew how to fight back as she swung her off of her, hand flying to her cheek with a hiss of pain.

“Anderson! I told you save for the violence for the other team! That’s the second time you’ve targeted Williams in two days-“ The intimidating coach finally exclaimed from her observational spot in the wings, though part of her seemed to be willing to let it play out.

“Well maybe she should stay out of my fucking shot!” Abby exclaimed, a declaration that had me widening my eyes at her bravery that she’d speak to someone like Sevika in that way. Sevika who already looked as if she was about to blow. The Andersons were much like the Kirammans though, in the sense a lot of the faculty needed to be careful.

“I’m on fucking defense, Abby! What do you expect me to do?! A-Are you gonna do this during actual games too?!” Ellie shouted as she removed her hand to reveal the angry red splotch underneath her eye where she had been rammed into the ice.

“That was a foul, I saw it.” Vi spoke up as she flew over towards where the two girls stood just off of the ice. “She swiped her so she’d purposefully fall on her face.”

Coach Sevika held up a hand as if to tell her it’d be taken care of. “Everyone, take 5, Anderson, Williams, work out your issues and don’t come back until you do. Williams, do you need a medic?”

“I’m fine, I can take care of it.” Ellie huffed as she pushed herself off of the ice with a wince.

“Then why did you get us benched?!” Abby bellowed as she trailed close behind her to give her a firm shove.

“Hey! Stop, leave her alone!” I repeated probably helplessly for the second time, taking off down the stairs and after where the two were arguing.

For a moment I nearly saw Ellie’s past flash in her usually gentle green eyes. The US Army solider who had had to defend herself from much worse and was always prepared for the worst. I didn’t wanna know what would’ve happened if I hadn’t reached her whenever I did. Nearly tripping over my own two feet as I cautiously crept up next to her. She had taught me a long time ago how to approach her whenever a PTSD trigger hit. I never really got the chance to before Abby was lashing out again, darting her angered expression towards me to the point where I nearly flinched.

“Ellie why don’t you tell your fucking schizo of a girlfriend to stay out of it!”

Ellie’s eyes darkened in a way I hadn’t seen before, the way I imagined they would have on the battlefield as she whipped around to face her with an intensity that had almost gotten her her first shot against her. “What did you just fucking call her?!”

“Ellie, Ellie please- don’t.”

“What the hell is your problem, Anderson?” Vi had finally caught up to the two and I was thanking my lucky stars that she hadn’t heard what had come out of Abby’s mouth.

I gulped an anxious lump down my throat as I slid a hand into Ellie’s gloved one, attempting to pull her off towards the locker rooms but her feet were grounded in place. “I’m really fucking sorry about what happened to your dad, Abby, okay?” She finally spoke up earning me a confused expression from Vi that I could only meet with a shrug. “It was disgusting, inexcusable and it never should’ve happened and trust me whenever I say those soliders never should’ve gotten away with it and I swear to you if I would’ve had any say in it then they wouldn’t have. But respectfully if you have any shit you need to take out on me then do it off of the ice, and if you say one more word like that about Millie you’re going to see that US Army side of me real fucking fast.”

My eyes widened in shock, almost feeling like my feet were glued to the floor as I watched her whirl around and head towards the direction I had been trying to pull her in. “What did you fucking say about Millie?” Venom seemed to drip from Vi’s lips as she turned towards Abby with a fierce glare.

“Uh-oh-” I could hear Jinx’s subtle commentary causing me to curse underneath my breath.

“Man, it isn’t important, I was just pissed.” Abby tried to brush off, but Vi wasn’t having it.

“Clearly it was if you felt the need to bring her into this so tell me, what did you fucking say to her?!” Vi growled just before slamming her body into the protective glass wrapping around the rink.

“Vi- s-stop, please!” I stammered, reaching out to latch onto her broad shoulders as I tried to pry her off. She was so much bigger though, pure muscle seeming to be made out of steel as she refused to move.

“Millie, go check on Ellie, okay? I’ll handle this.” She ordered, body towering over mine even as she peered over her shoulder to face me.

“Violet please-“

“I wasn’t asking!” The words probably came out much harsher then expected causing me to wince once more. She commanded authority, and still I wondered if she was simply trying to protect me or what. But I wouldn’t challenge her after that.

“O-Okay.” I stammered, an ache settling behind my eyes as I turned on my heel to venture back into the locker room.

“Ugh, you are such a dick, do you know that?” I heard Jinx’s voice carry down the hallway, meanwhile I gulped down a heavy lump in my throat as I quickened my pace to take off in Ellie’s direction.

A/N: Two hot girls fighting for your honor- wow, living the dream 🩵

As always please let me know your thoughts! I am really am trying to slow down but it’s hard to whenever I love what I’m writing so much 🤭🥹

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