#I have a car payment now when I didn’t with my other car that I was so proud of myself for buying outright all by myself bc I saved & saved

[maladaptiveobsession]

*pokes* oh my god! i really love all of your dol headcanons, the suicidal one admitedly made me cry, it's just that good! :'D not sure if you take request or not, you can ignore this if you aren't, but i'd absolutely would love something related to bailey taking reader's virginity...? his dialogue in canon (before it was removed rip) when he took pc's virginity drive me fucking crazy :)

“Your body was always mine.”

Synopsis: You owe Bailey, but are short on cash. He takes your virginity as payment.

Contains: afab!gn!reader, anal mention, biting, cervix kiss, deflowering, fingering, masturbation, noncon, oral mention, overstimulation, scratching, purity/virginity kink

Words: 2,159

A/N: Sorry this took so long. It’s been a rough month or so. I wish they would have left us the ability to fuck Bailey at least until they had more lewd content to replace it with. I refuse to acknowledge his canon disinterest in the player.

In a town such as this, where temptations festered in the shadow, it was a miracle you’d preserved your purity for as long as you had. He can’t imagine how you managed, though he supposes your affiliation with the church must have contributed. Fat load of good that did against him, though, didn’t it? It hadn’t been intentional, but he’d gradually accrued your virginities, unraveling your innocence thread by thread.

Once in a moment of weakness, driven by frustration. You’d pestered him all that morning with dumb shit, and in a haze of anger and desire, he overwhelmed you, his hands gripping your body as he bent you over his desk and roughly violated your ass. You fought valiantly, but you were just no match.

"You should be putting out more if you're this tight. What do you think you're good for?"

Once with the intentions to torment that insufferable prick, Avery. You may have been that bastard’s date for the evening, but he was your guardian, and it was about damn time he reminded you both who actually owned you. With the right encouragement—threats against that other brat, Robin—he hadn’t needed to lift a finger for your mouth to get to work. The look on that man’s face as you choked on him was the highlight of his evening, though your inexperienced tongue running alongside his shaft was a contender to be sure.

"Don't get any funny ideas. Just take it."

Once more that same evening without thinking. With all the adrenaline coursing through his body, he hadn’t considered the significance before grabbing your hand and thoughtlessly dragging you off to his car. He hadn’t registered the way your hand tensed against his own until long after he’d dumped you off at the orphanage.

Lastly, by your discretion, too drunk for you to realize the “handsome stranger with kissable lips” was in fact your caretaker coming to collect your dumbass after you’d gone and got yourself roofied. You were lucky it was the day before collection; otherwise, he wouldn’t have bothered. For reasons unknown to even himself, his resolve to remain indifferent crumbled under your clumsy lips, pulling you close to dress your lips with his and turning that chaste brush of lips into a ferocious battle with his tongue. You probably still think it was that haunting freak you barely tolerate who took your first kiss, but he hasn’t forgotten.

"Surprised are you? You'll learn to kiss better soon."

Now, behind the locked door of his office, he finds himself clawing at the remnants of his self-control, trying desperately to ignore the desire that began to bloom since he first pinned you against his desk. He palms at the ache pressing against his trousers, shame creeping along his spine. He should never have let things get as far as they did. There were lines he had resolved not to cross, and yet here he was, hips jerking to the thought of your warm tongue, soft lips, and tight ass.

The thought that you’ve been sauntering around town with that virgin cunt of yours unprotected, purity vulnerable to any prowling perverts, evokes a possessive rage that has no place invading his thoughts.

He sure as fuck shouldn’t be entertaining the thought that you’re only some doors down, just out of reach. The desire to own you in full has him in a chokehold. Growling, he reclines deeper into his swivel chair, impatiently fishing his cock out from his trousers, leaking pre-cum down over angry veins.

Fuck it, just this once.

With a sense of urgency, he gathers himself in his hand, tightening his hold damn near enough to strangle, and begins furiously pumping his hand. It doesn't take too long before he reaches that precipice, jaw and core tightening as he inhales sharply. Warmth spreads over his hand, pace and grip relaxing as he eases himself down from his high.

Releasing a sigh, he reaches across his desk for a tissue. After cleaning himself off and resituating himself into his pants, he glances down at his wristwatch.

12:30 AM

Right, there was still the matter of your debt. Before he could erase you from his thoughts, he had to collect your payment for this week. It was admittedly early, but the day of collection nonetheless, and he could swing by damn well any time he pleased. He steels himself before pushing the door open and striding up the stairs towards your room. The sound of your laughter mingling with that of another orphan—Robin, his mind supplies to his distaste—pulls at his insides like a vice.

The door swings open violently, the force startling the both of you into silence. The sight before him reignits that possessive rage; your hips straddling his with only a pair of panties protecting you from his exposed length. Underneath you, the boy cringes as Bailey's attention rests on him, eyes widening in bewilderment and terror. The air was thick with tension.

“Get out.” He bites out as calmly as he could manage, nails digging into his palms.

Robin casts a rueful glance between the both of you, torn between the desire to shield you and fear. You assure him that you’ll be fine, gesturing towards the door with your chin.

“But—” Robin begins, but is interrupted by Bailey.

“Did I fucking stutter?” he snarls, the animosity seemingly making the air colder and heavier. Quickly worming back into his night shorts, Robin slinks by Bailey while sending one last remorseful glance your way before vanishing down the corridor.

Silence punctuates his departure. Rage simmers below the surface of his skin, threatening to burn him. The sound of shuffling sheets punctures the quiet, instinctually causing him to look your way. Breath catches in his throat, soaking in the sight of your exposed thighs. As you reach for your bottoms, awkwardly twisting your body, he sees what he believes must be that brat's fluids discoloring your underwear. Lips twitching, he’s overcome with the desire to tear it from your body and have it burned.

Had he arrived even an hour later, you’d have surrendered your virginity to that urchin. Struck with violent impulse, he feels the final strand of resolve disintegrate. He stalks forward, his presence overwhelming as he closes the distance between you.

Scrambling back until your back is pressed against the headboard, you glare daggers, demanding to know why he’s here. The slight tremble of your voice reveals the fear underlining that false bravado you’ve taken to wearing. He makes note of your shifting eyes, frantically searching for an escape, and snorts in amusement. There would be no trouble subduing you, especially at this distance. Perhaps you came to this realization yourself, your eyes snapping back to him with a trace of defeat settling onto your features.

“You owe me.” A grimace overtakes your expression. Ah, now this was a first. Of all his orphans, you were one of the few that were consistently prompt with their payments. No wonder you were offering yourself to that brat. Now, no guilt would weigh on his conscience; you owed him and he intended to collect. You had only yourself to blame for whatever happened next.

Gathering your voice, you stamper out a retort, voice raising as you speak. “I-I’m a little short, but I ha-have enough to cover Robin! Do whatever to me; just leave him out of it!"

You nervously extend the bills out, and he snatches them, flicking through the stack to tally the sum. Satisfied with the amount, he stuffs the wad of cash into his pocket before glancing back up to you.

“I know just what to do with you. Don’t worry, I have no interest in that brat joining.” Closing the distance between you, he snatches your ankle and drags you towards him before you can resist.

You yelp as he pounces, quickly pinning your arms above your head and adjusting his grip so he can hold them down with just one hand. He doesn’t give you a moment to react before he snatches your lips with his own, silencing any potential objections. His tongue swipes across your lips, thrusting down your throat—domineering, rough, and speaking of suppressed desire. Pulling back, a string of saliva connects your lips.

“Wh-What was that about...?” You gasp out, greedily sucking in air, nearly suffocated by his intensity.

“You owe me.” He begins, hand drifting down to cup your sex. “And you have something I want.”

Tears gather at the revelation, struggling against his hold. “N-no way! Haven’t you stolen enough from me?”

Snatching your cheeks in his fingers, he clenches as a warning and sneers. “You fucking owe me, so unless you want me knocking on that brat’s door for payment, you’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you.”

You sniffle and sob, but otherwise settle down, realizing you have no other choice but to comply. Watching your eyes for any signs of rebellion, he feels assured you won’t try anything and releases your face and arms. You go limp, defeated. He hooks his finger in your panties, impatiently pulling them off your body before tossing them to the floor. He doesn’t bother to take off your shirt.

Though having seen you exposed before, he can’t help but stare in appreciation at your glistening lips. Swiping his middle and ring finger between your folds, he wastes no time before sinking knuckle deep, aided by your slick.

“Fuck, you’re soaked. That brat do this to you?” He begins pumping his fingers and circling your clit with his thumb, enjoying the crinkle of your nose and eyes as you try to maintain composure. “Or do you actually want this?”

You shake your head and try to say no, but your voice breaks into a whine as he curls his fingers against a sensitive spot. He takes the initiative to attack that spot, pressing a hand against your chest to hold you down when you begin to squirm.

"Just relax. I'll handle everything like always."

Feeling your chest rise faster and walls clenching tighter, he pulls away just as you’re about to reach your high. A whine leaves your throat against your will, feeling betrayed at the loss of his fingers. Without warning, his hands grip your waist, pulling you into him and replacing his fingers with something much thicker. The sudden intrusion steals your breath away and sends you over the edge, vaguely registering the pain through your climax. Perhaps he was just impatient, or maybe he cares some semblance to distract you from the pain of being split open by something so large. Either way, he gives you no time to adjust to his size, fingers digging into your skin and leaving crescent-shaped marks.

His eyes and lips pressed tight, overwhelmed by your tight heat. He’s plucked plenty of virgins, but none had brought him such intense pleasure. Melting into you, he sinks his face into your neck, tongue gliding across your skin and savoring your taste. You shiver as his lips trace your collarbone, the nipping of his teeth forcing sharp breaths from your throat.

It’s subtle, but you can hear his muted groans as his hips snap against yours, hungry and desperate. The sounds of wet, heated sex penetrate the thin walls of your room, sure to be heard by all. He can’t find it in him to care when all he can focus on is how sweetly you massage him, bringing him closer to the precipice of pleasure with each thrust. The crown of his cock kisses your cervix, your back arching from the sensation as your hands and legs wrap around him. Your nails dig into his back as that coil in your stomach tightens, leaving deep scratches in their path.

As you push against his thrusts, his hand slips between your bodies, teasing your clit with fervor. You feel yourself slip over that edge, head snapping back against the bed and calling out his name with eyes twisted shut. Feeling you tighten, he loses composure and begins frantically chasing that high for himself. Sensitive, you whine from overstimulation, softly calling out his name to catch his attention. The sound of your soft voice helplessly calling for him and only him lights his nerves and leaves him helplessly gripping the sheets. He bites down on your shoulder to stiffle a moan, spilling into you. His hips grind into yours as he winds down, hands tenderly gliding across your body.

As he pulls back, hot white pools onto the sheets below. He admires the mess he’s made: your bruised skin, neck raw and glistening, and lips parted as you try to gather your breath. His thumb ghosts over your lips, amused by the dumb look settled on your face. Satisfaction thrums through him, having claimed the last of your purity.

"Your body was always mine. Like your first time."

[lesbiansanemi]

I spoke too soon I should have known that was too easy for him I’m so tired I was like hey! I might have found someone interested in subleasing, if they end up not wanting to ill start making posts places but either way, ill need a move in date to advertise and tell people. Do you have any estimates of when you might find a place yet?

And my fucking roommate replies with a bunch of links to apartments like well you could move HERE like fuck you fuck you fuck you jackass this wasn’t what we agreed on and also 90% of the places he sent me were places I already contacted and had no availability/a waitlist/couldn’t sign until august and the other 10% were WAY out of my price range also none of this solves that I don’t want to sign a new fucking lease cuz I want out of this fucking fuck ass city between you and your bf you make almost TRIPLE what I do you will have such an easier time finding a new place and moving plus you wanna stay in this stupid fucking fuck ass city just fucking GET OUT

[chiefguideandcentre]

Crazy to me how humans have literally made life so difficult for ourselves for no reason at all. Like why do we have to pay for water monthly when it literally falls from the sky? Why is a super simple one bed, one bath “house” (cheaply made of course) easily between $250k-$400k and someone would have to pay a high monthly payment with a 20% interest rate to have it? Why did we choose these numbers? When did we make prices for food so high, create mortgages, student loans, and car payments? Who created interest rates? Why does my entire future depend on a credit score? A number we ourselves made up. Why did we go the extra mile and decide to tax ourselves? For what purpose? When did we decide that we need to have a certain level of education to succeed and if you don’t have it you are obviously a failure at life. When did we say “yes, this seems good, I want to pay astronomical amounts of money for literally everything and make everything as stressful as possible for no reason at all?” Why do I owe money for having money (taxes)? Why can’t I pay for stuff with rocks? That cat I see sleeping in a warm beam of sunlight (and living a happier life than I) doesn’t have a credit score, it doesn’t have to pay extreme amounts of money for a home, it doesn’t have to pay for water that falls from the sky, it doesn’t have to worry about interest rates, it doesn’t know what the Pythagorean theorem is, it doesn’t have a car payment, a set of tires doesn’t cost it easily $1,000 in one go, it didn’t make applying for a home or a car an exhausting endeavor, it doesn’t have to work 40+ hours a week working on stuff that we made up all for a check that doesn’t even reasonably cover any expenses (that once again we forced on ourselves). So why are we?? Why can’t we help ourselves out and make rent $10 a month? Why can’t a good credit score be a 10 instead of 700-800? Why can’t a mansion be $10,000 instead of a million? Let’s make grocery shopping easier by trading cool rocks and pieces of clay pottery and buttons and other neat things for food. What’s stopping us from doing that? Why did we create the most complicated system? “The entire system would collapse, there would be anarchy, everything would shut down, society would explode!!!” Why?? Over numbers and problems we made up ourselves? It’s all made up!! Why did we make it so hard? We could have made things so easy and have a perfectly workable society. We could have the most bonkers system and could all be schooling life right now if we paid for stuff with pretty things we find in abundance and made houses cost like one pretty vase and a loaf of bread you bought with your cool acorn stash and made cars only cost a packet of tomato seeds with no interest rates in sight, didn’t make the production of goods and supplies so expensive, and if we simply didn’t tax ourselves, and if education/the school system was literally just learning all sorts of things that could help you live a happy, self sufficent, simple, productive life the way you want to live it (if you want to learn about history, languages, how to work on cars, or build robots, or cooking, or music, making pottery, or conducting science experiments, learning about medicine, or playing sports or whatever you could do so) and it wouldn’t cost you your first born child, and if we didn’t have mind numbing jobs trapped in windowless buildings doing things that shouldn’t actually matter or exist but we made them so. Why did we make it so hard??

[oceantornadoo]

protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in

“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.

“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.

“‘ello?”

“si- simon, it’s me.”

“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.

“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.

“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”

9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.

suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.

“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.

twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.

“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.

“you win.”

fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.

“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.

“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”

“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.

“we’re not together anymore, simon.”

“you’re still my wife.”

silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.

“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.

“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.

“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.

----

idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄 ❞

❝ I CAN'T BREATHE WITHOUT YOU, BUT I HAVE TO... ❞

✧ pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader (canon / multi au)

✧ summary: "would we love each other in every life?" it's the question you asked satoru the night before his battle, and he replied that, of course you would. but did that promise create a curse -- or were you both always cursed to begin with when it came to love?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, jjk manga spoilers (236 spoilers), multiple lives, assassin!reader x duke!gojo, actor!gojo x singer!reader, prince!gojo x knight!reader, model!gojo x photographer!reader, oral (f!receiving) in a car, semi-public, making out in public, pantyhose ripping, canon compliant except towards the end, angsty, but also bittersweet / implied happy ending

✧ wc: 6,589

“Do you think we would be together in another life?” you ask, not thinking much of the question, as your fingers draw lazy circles against his bare chest, your head resting right between his shoulder and chest. 

Satoru chuckles, vibration against your skin, “Of course we would, sweetheart,” his arms curl around you, tugging you higher, as he gazes up at you, “you think I could live any lifetime without you?” He murmurs, his lips finding yours, “I know we’d find each other, time and time again,” 

“How do you know?” your fingers brush against his cheek, shaking as he presses his cheek into your palm, a smile pulling at his lips. 

“Because, I love you,” he kisses you again, sweet lips gliding against yours, his breath warming your lips as he parts. 

“You did say love is a curse,” you give a small smile, and he presses his forehead to yours. 

“Then I’d want you to curse me — in every life.” 

“I swear on my life,” you press the dagger to his throat, blade digging into his formerly  perfect porcelain skin, drawing scarlet to the surface, “I’ll kill you, Satoru Gojo,” 

“I’m flattered to be a target of the infamous blueblood assassin,” his cerulean eyes glinted like stars in the candlelight, flames flickering across his eyes like burning comets, “but I didn’t think you would announce yourself as you did — what if I called for my guards?” 

You scoff, fingers flexing against the hilt of your dagger, “Then you would be dead before you uttered even a single sound and do you think I left your guards to chance? All of that schooling to be a duke and you haven’t learned a single thing have you?” 

“And what have I done to end up as your target?” he hums — as you bit back a sigh stuck in your throat — you preferred your marks to be much less chatty, but all he had was his mouth you supposed, “you only target the rich and the corrupt — and while I may fit the former, I do not fit the latter,” 

“You’re certainly sure of yourself,” and he’s unfazed by your reply, as his eyes wander the only thing visible of your expression — your eyes. 

“Since you have not stated my crime, I can only assume that I’ve committed none, and the infamous assassin whose morals could not be compromised have been,” and your grip wavers a moment, and he takes advantage of your hesitance to disarm you, and pin you to a nearby chaise all before the clatter of your blade hitting the marble floor, “and now what’s an assassin’s price who has done all of this for no reward?” 

“How do you know I’ve done this for no reward?” you squirm in his grip, but it’s ironclad, and you know all too well he could have broken from your grasp at any point, but he had chosen not to — your heartbeat roars in your ears as one question repeats again and again stuck between  beats — why? “I very well may have taken a payment you don’t know of — you act as if you know of me,” 

“Because I do,” the heir replies with a simple smile, “I have followed your work for a long time, and I found myself fascinated with what you do — and why you do it,” 

“Honored to have caught your attention,” you say in mock reverence, your arm beginning to ache, “now do you plan to call your guards?” 

“Didn’t know you were so eager to die,” he stares still, as you turn your head away from his piercing gaze, “shouldn’t you keep your eyes on your target or now your captor?” 

“Do you ever shut up?” You mumble as you flinch as you squirm under his grip, sleeve riding up ever so slightly — and then he sees it. His eyes narrow, as his hand grasps at your wrist now, “hey! Don’t—“ 

In a moment his fingers nearly rip the fabric of your tunic to tug your sleeve up —  angry red cuts and purple bruises litter your arm. Your breath catches as his eyes stare for several moments before sliding back to you — no longer a placid pool but a raging ocean. 

“Who did this to you?” he says quietly, and you’re blinking, nearly slack jawed, as you try to rip your arms away, but he won’t let you, “who is it? Is it the same person who told you to kill me?” 

“Stop—“ 

“Is it the same person who’s taken someone important to you?” and you grit your teeth in silence, “is it the little orphan you adopted? Yuji?” 

And your eyes snap to his, “How do you know this? Who are you?” 

His lips curl,  “You told me yourself, I’m Satoru Gojo,” and his fingers brush your cheek, “it’s a shame you don’t remember where we first met — because I never forgot,” 

You furrow your brow, “What are you talking about? I think I’d remember you. You’re…” you jerk your head, eyes looking him up and down — lingering on his white hair and eyes, “distinct,” 

“Well what if I had black hair and green eyes, would you remember then?” And he whispers your name in your ear, and you pause, “the fireworks were nothing compared to you,” 

And your breath catches — “You? But—“ 

“I had snuck out, had a disguise and everything, and I had planned to explore the festival alone but who do I find but you?” His grip on you loosens only to pull you a little closer, “the girl who had stolen two steamed buns and pinned me with part of the blame, making me run after you—“ 

“You didn’t have to run—“ and he snorted. 

“Well, it was that or get caught sneaking out — so I chose the lesser of two evils,” you can’t help it, your fingers trace the curve of his jaw to the back of his ear, “are you seeing if I’m defective?” And you find it. 

“No, he—“ you stop yourself, “you had gotten a small cut right behind your ear, it was deep enough that it would have left a scar behind,” and he had gotten a small cut from one of the soldiers who had grabbed them, bucking him with his sword, before you wrenched him out of there. The two of you spent the rest of the night eating food and sneaking around guards. And then finally climbing up on a rooftop to watch the fireworks. 

“How did you—“ 

“One of my father’s advisers found me later that night, in exchange for never sneaking out again without telling him, he said he would keep tabs on you,” 

You have no words, but one left — “why?” 

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, “maybe it was because I’ve been surrounded by nothing but my family’s yes-men, and you were the one person who treated me like a person, maybe it was the fact that day was the only day I actually had fun,” and he glances at you, “or maybe it was because I was drawn to you,” 

And you snort a little, “Do you believe in that fates nonsense they fed all of us as kids?” 

“I think fate is a very real thing, and I think it’s up to us to seize it,” he releases you, holding your hand before bending to press the barest brush of his lips against the back of your hand, “so, will you seize it or continue to evade your fate?” 

“We’ll never be able to evade the press if you do this,” you whisper, as he presses you against a wall of a secluded pillar of whatever place they had chosen to have this awards show, “and our teams will definitely chew us out if we don’t make an—ah,” you gasp, as his teeth nip at your neck, “Satoru, don’t leave a mark,” 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he licks his lips, as he leans up, his normally messy white locks combed and parted to the side, his lips kiss bitten red from the liplock he had you in for the last ten minutes, and his white suit slightly ruffled and pressed against you, “you taste so sweet,” his thumb runs down your puffy lips, “and the desserts tonight sucked,” 

You chuckle, your fingers toying with the hair resting against his undercut, “Think you would have been pleased with receiving the award for best actor, is that not enough Mr. Gojo?” 

“The only thing that pleases me is my gorgeous wife’s singing and,” his lips find yours in a desperate kiss, and you could taste the fruity mocktail he had earlier on his lips, “and her moans when she’s under me,” his hand slides under your dress, dragging over your pantyhose clad thighs, “do you think anyone would notice if you came back without these?” 

“Yes, I do,” you gasp as he tugs at the delicate fabric, “Toru, we shouldn’t—” but your pleas are half-hearted, as his lips drift to press butterfly kisses up your jaw, “you deserve me insane,” 

“I know,” he chuckles, “that’s why you love me,” and you hum, your noses brushing before you meet lips again, “I love you so much,” 

Your fingers cup his cheek, as he leaned into your touch, “I love you too — don’t you want to enjoy all the accolades, the interviews, the congratulations? You won such a big award, Toru, I want you to celebrate,” 

“I am celebrating,” he grins, tilting his head, “I’m surprised at you, princess — and you’re the smart one between the two of us,” he teases, as he turns his head to kiss your palm, “in an entire ballroom full of people in there and all the places in the world, there’s no one place I rather be with than here with you.” 

“How did I end up stuck with you?” you grumbled, your armor weighing on you heavier than other days, as you stood in front of your prince — the little sun of this kingdom and the future king, the man you were sworn to protect for the rest of your earthly days, and your best friend, for better for worse, “if the fates have written it, I must have done something horrid in a past life,” 

“Do you really believe in that garbage?” Satoru raises an eyebrow, as he places his sword down from practice, waiving off his training partner, as he wipes off his sweat with a towel offered by a maid, “You know that stuff they fed to us so we wouldn’t throw tantrums during classes — so we didn’t turn into slugs for our next life,” 

“Why turn into one when you are one already?” you smirk, and he rolls his eyes, as he runs his hand through his hair. 

“Has a slug ever looked this good before?” and you roll your eyes. 

“Think your ego is going to be so large by the time you become king, your crown won’t sit atop your head correctly,” you sigh, rising to your feet, “now we must get you cleaned and dressed, you have a meeting with the—” 

“I actually cleared my schedule for the rest of the day,” and you blink, frowning. 

“His Majesty will not—” 

“His Majesty will be fine — old man hasn’t kicked the bucket over the last fifty things I’ve done — I doubt this will be more than a ten minute lecture on decorum, fifteen if I decide to poke the bear,” he throws you a grin, as he pulls on a fresh shirt, “come, I have something to show you,” 

“Show me?” you repeat, before his hand finds yours — his hands are smooth despite the constant swordplay and practice he put in — he supposed he owed that to the royal staff, tending to his looks as much as they did his health. The same could not be said about yours — riddled with cuts and calluses alike. Your cheeks burned as your unkempt hand held his — “your highness, this is—” 

“‘Your Highness?’” he repeats, throwing you a smirk over his shoulder, “when have you ever called me that?” 

The appearance of holding your hand as he pulled you down several hallways through the palace was beginning to attract the attention of several gawking onlookers. Your cheeks burn — and you’re not sure if it's from the stares, his words, or the fact he was still holding your hand as you both arrive outside his chambers. But you can’t stop him — but you never could stop him when it came to this, could you? It reminded you of the times he dragged you through the gardens, wanting to show you the rabbits’ hidey hole he had found in the corner of the royal gardens. 

“Well I was made an official royal guard and appointed as your personal guard yesterday so I thought a little professionalism—” he unlocks his door, turning to look at you, a smile pulling at his lips. 

“There’s no need for decorum between us, now is there?” his fingers find a stray strand of your hair, and presses his lips to it, as he opens his door. You glance inside to find a lovely decorated cake and a present wrapped perfectly on the table, “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” 

“What—but—” and your mind realizes the date, “how did you—” 

“You think I’d ever forget your birthday?” he tilts his head, as your eyes slide to him, “it’s the day we met,” 

It was — the day you were brought from your home with your father who had been the king’s royal guard for many years, you were brought to be the prince’s — but you didn’t know you would find more than that in him. 

“I didn’t know you did this for your personal staff,” you teased, a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth, “I certainly can’t imagine what they would think of you inviting a woman to your room for it,” 

“Well, you are my personal guard, you’re here to personally guard me against anything, right?” and this was the nature of your relationship wasn’t it? Teasing and goading — toeing that line of proprietary before one of you eased off. 

“It seems like I need to guard you only against yourself, your highness,” 

“Satoru,” he corrects, his eyes sliding to you, as he says your name with a softness that you wished he wouldn’t, “you had no issue calling me that before,” 

“We were only friends then, I’m your guard now—“ 

“Do you kiss all your friends?” And your cheeks flare, as your gaze refuses to meet his. 

“That was—a mistake,” you whisper the last two words, “we can’t do this—“ 

“Why not?” You turn away, your eyes sliding to the cake, a frown pulling on your lips. 

“Because you have a duty to your people and I have a duty to you,” and his fingers find your shoulder gently, giving you leave to pull away — but you can’t, you couldn’t. 

“My only duty I desire is the one to you—I love my people, but I can’t be the king they deserve if you’re not the one beside me,” your gaze still cast downward, “I will cast away any responsibility, if I could have a chance with you, sweetheart—“ 

“The king has discussed your engagement with me,” you murmur, “he told me he plans to have you engaged with a princess from a neighboring—“ And his arm is wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer — your gaze lost in the endless blue skies of his eyes, “we can’t—“ 

“I’ll find a way,” and you scoff. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you mutter, and his warm palm slides against your cheek. 

“This isn’t me promising to find a unicorn when we were five, Princess,” and you chuckle at the thought of his child self trudging into the woods with carrots in hand and what he thought was fairy dust (it was ladies’ finishing powder), “I swear that we’ll be together,” and he reaches into his pocket, and holds a small box, opening it to reveal a beautiful infinity pendant, “and this is my promise,” 

You bite your lip, staring at the silver glinting in the sunlight trickling in from the windows, “Satoru—“ 

“Finally giving in?” And you sigh. 

“How can you be sure we’ll be together?” He chuckles, as he gently turns you, making you face the mirror in his room as he places the necklace delicately around your neck, his fingers brushing against the skin of your neck before he clasps it. His arms slowly slide around your middle as he meets your gaze in your reflection, lips curling. 

His lips press a sweet kiss to your cheek, “Because I know I’d choose you, again and again.” 

“Why did they choose him as my model again?” You groaned as you looked at the list, tossing it back on your desk, “he’s so impossible to work with—“ 

“The shoots are finished quick—“ your boss replies gruffly, as he stands with his hands in his pockets, “and he said he’d only shoot with you. Said he likes your work and you’re the only one who can ‘capture the real him,’ some crap like that,” he shrugs. 

“Yaga, I can’t keep dealing with this man, can’t he shoot with anyone else?” 

He sighs, scratching the back of his head, “Look, the magazine we’re working with chose him as the model, and he said he would only do the shoot if you did it,” 

You sigh, leaning on your palm, elbow against your desk. “you’re not giving me a choice are you?” 

And no, he wasn’t. 

Because now you were at the studio for the sight of the shoot, getting everything ready that you could before your model arrived. You made sure his preferred makeup artist and hairstylist were available, you picked out his favorite snacks, got his preferred lighting (to be adjusted when he was on set), and had your cameras adjusted for his light sensitivity. 

All of which reduced the amount of time you had to spend with this man — but not even the most divine snacks would stop him from running his mouth. 

“Sweetheart,” you turned to see him, “miss me?” 

“When pigs fly, maybe,” but your words don’t faze him, a mock pout on his lips, “why do you request me to do your shoots, Gojo?” 

“Because it’s the only way you’ll see me,” and you sigh, as you continue to adjust your camera again, “you still haven’t given me a chance—“ 

“I gave you one chance, wasn’t that enough?” Before you turn to him, “look, I’m here because I have to be. I want to shoot — get in and get out and not have to—“ 

“One chance to talk to you — please, even if you don’t believe me or forgive me—“ 

“Fine,” you shake your head, frustrated, “go finish the shoot and we can talk for five minutes after,” and maybe he would stop forcing you into this situation. 

Satoru Gojo was the top wanted model by all the agencies — agencies were looking to snipe him and others were looking to have exclusive deals with him — whether it was photography businesses or brands. 

You couldn’t blame them, as you adjusted your lights and took a few test shots — he was gorgeous, even by model standards. From his skin to his body to his attitude, it was effortless for him. Even a bad angle or bad lighting did very little to detract from his flawless look. 

The chiseled cut of his jaw put statues to shame, his eyes shone brighter than the shiniest gemstones, his charm the envy of the love goddess herself, and his smile was enough to change hearts and minds alike. 

The shoots always look little time — the part that took the most time was choosing the best shots — you’d love to take one bad picture of him. Even for yourself — but that had proved impossible. Even deprived of sleep in the hours of the early morning, he was perfect. 

Perfect — except for his loyalty, you supposed. 

How had it gone so wrong so fast? And how did you let yourself become so carried away that you thought you were different from the others he bedded? 

And the shoot was over in a moment, and just like he said, Satoru was by your side as you begin to break down the equipment, as the other staff filed out, “can we talk now?” 

“If you have to,” you would give him an ear, but it didn’t mean you’d give him anything else.

“I never cheated on you—“ 

“Bullshit,” you reply, as you pick up the tripod you set up,  “I guess you didn’t the full five minutes,” 

“No, I didn’t—what you saw—“ 

“I saw you kissing another girl all over social media—“

“You saw me with Suguru,” he sighs, “and we weren’t kissing — we were hugging. You thought it was kissing from the angle of the picture, and before I could explain, you had blocked me on everything,”

You pause, “Suguru?” You repeat, as you pull out your phone and pull up the picture — black hair, hair half up, and they could have been hugging. And Satoru pulls out his own phone and shows you a selfie he took that same day, the meta data matching, “oh, oh fuck,” 

“Was that an apology? Not familiar with those coming out of your mouth so—“ 

“Satoru, I’m so sorry,” you murmur, “I saw the pictures and I heard the rumors and I assumed the worst of you,” you run your fingers through your hair, “even though I knew you better than that,” 

“You did, but I understand why you thought that,” he shrugged, “we had only been seeing each other for a month, but it meant something to me,” his voice softens.

“To me too,” you shake your head, “I’m so sorry, Satoru. I don’t know how to make it up to you,” 

“I know,” he smiles, “have dinner with me,” 

You blink. “why?”

“What do you mean, sweetheart? Everyone eats dinner, it’s a—“ 

“Satoru,” you sigh, “I didn’t believe you, I didn’t trust you, how can you forgive me like that? How could you want to be with someone like that?” 

“Well, you made a mistake — you forgave me for the other mistakes I made during our time together, and if I hadn’t let my team convince me that my fake reputation as a playboy would help sell my image — maybe we wouldn’t have been in this mess to begin with,” his fingers brush against yours, “besides, I want to believe in second chances — because I’d want to believe you’d give me one too,” 

Your fingers intertwine with his, “Even when I don’t deserve it?” 

And he lifts your hand to his lips, blue eyes glinting like an ocean dabbled in sunlight, “All the more for you make up for, right?”

This wasn’t right. No. No. 

“Satoru, Toru, please,” your fingers cupped his face, your fingers smeared with his blood as Maki pulled gou away, “no, no!” You don’t remember screaming, but you know you did because your throat was raw, your tears streaming down your face as your hands shook, staring at the dried blood on your fingers. 

He promised you he would win. He promised you he would come back. He promised you a life, a family, a home — something beyond jujutsu. 

And now you were left with nothing but that. 

“I’ll come back,” he had murmured in your ear the night before, his fingers tracing your cheek, “there’s no way I won’t. Have you ever seen me lose?” 

You give a small chuckle, “You just got trapped in a box for almost twenty days?” And he pouts, as he tilts your head up, fingers sliding against your cheek. 

“It was a one time fluke, sweetheart,” and his lips grazing your lips, “and I’m here now aren’t I?” you hum, “and I’ll always be there,” 

“In every life?” He smiles. 

“In every one.” 

In every one — except this one.  

“One would think you’re helpless, if you pout like that,” you teased, as you crawl into bed beside him, a smile on your lips, as he tugs you steadfast into his arms, “it’s only been a few minutes,” 

“It felt like a lifetime,” he presses a kiss to your head, “Is he asleep?” And you nod, a sigh on your lips as you settle into bed.

“After about twenty minutes of arguing, he passed out while I was telling him a story. He’s still not accustomed to this mansion,” neither were you — you had spent a few nights lying awake after jerking from the clutches of sleep — the paranoia still rampant in your mind. But those thoughts were a little farther now as you lie against his chest, heart thrumming under your body — the very heart you were meant to stop, and a chuckle escapes your lips. 

“What is it?” He raises an eyebrow, and you shake your head. 

“Why did you help me?” You draw circles on his chest, “you had every reason not to,” your fingers traced a line across his neck, “I even held a knife to your neck,” 

“And that was very attractive,” and you roll your eyes, “what? I like a woman who takes charge,” 

“Oh I know,” you chuckle, your lips pressing sweet kisses to his neck, “but I still don’t understand — you had every reason to distrust me, we barely knew each other, and yet—“ 

“You were still the girl I fell in love with that night,” he murmurs, “I just knew you were something special and when I saw what you were doing — trying to uproot corruption, I knew I was right. And I knew I had to make you my duchess,” 

“Well I’m not your wife yet,” you tease, the words barely out of your mouth before he’s got you pinned under him, “Toru—“ 

“Now, I told you I was going to seize my fate when I saw it,” and he kisses you, stealing every thought from your mind and every breath from your body, his touch filling you with warmth in return, “and I see it right in front of me,” 

“And what does it look like?” you smile against his lips, as he leans down to kiss you again. 

“Bright.” 

“Is it just me or do these paparazzi lights get brighter and brighter each time?” you rub your eyes as the two of you slide into your car for the night, the driver setting off towards your home. 

“I don’t know, I was too busy being blinded by my gorgeous wife,” and Satoru’s hands are all but under your dress, sliding up and down your sides, before one cups your cheek, “did i mention how incredible you look, sweetheart?” 

You hum, “about a million times,” your fingers slide against his shoulders until he’s practically lying on top of you against these leather seats. 

“That’s a million times too little — you look incredible, sweetheart. This dress was made for you,” and his lips taste as sweet as his words, your fingers sliding into his snowy locks while his slide against your bare thighs, “and I can’t wait to take it off when we get home,” 

“You’re going to take it off now if your hands slide any further up,” he draws a shiver from you as his hands do just that, daring further up your thighs, “Toru—“ 

“Don’t worry, the partition is up and it’s just you and me, sweetheart,” and he’s sinking to his knees on the floor, as his hands slide up your dress, “just keep your voice down, don’t want anyone hearing my wife, do we?” And his lips are grazing your inner thigh, his smirk against your skin, “good thing I relieved you of those pantyhose, huh?” 

“Toru,” you whined, as his fingers parted your thighs, and he could see your all too soaked panties, a damp patch and the fabric nearly translucent while it clung to your clit, “please—“ 

“So needy — and now that mouth of yours is being as honest as this one,” his lithe fingers tug aside the crotch of your panties to expose your cunt, “all this f’me? Been like this since our make out earlier? Surprised I didn’t see your cum drip down your legs,” 

And his words make you squirm, “Satoru, I swear to god—“ and his lips kiss your clit, as two fingers tease at your entrance, gathering your pre on his fingertips. 

“You don’t have to call me god, Princess — just Satoru is fine,” he murmurs as his lips close around your clit, as his fingers work inside your walls, a delicious stretch that draws a pretty gasp from your lips, your head falling back against the leather headrest. 

The sounds of the squelch of your cunt and the slurping of his lips against your clit rang in your ears — your fingernails digging into the seat as your other hand clamped over your lips. 

“That’s it, just like that, Princess,” his tongue darts out to  drag circles around your clit, while his fingers find the spot that makes you see stars. 

“I’m—“ you manage, before you’re cumming around his fingers and lips, your toes curling as you do, head back against the headrest. Your eyes find him to see him looking all too perfect even ruffled, as his lips were glossy with your release, tongue darting out to clean it, before he licked his fingers one by one. 

“And you were worried about the paparazzi noticing your missing pantyhose,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, a smirk against your mouth, “let’s hope no one saw that,” 

And there’s a sharp rap on the window, “Sir and madam? We’ve arrived,” and his lips quirk, as he adjusts your clothes, cleaning your smudged lipstick with his thumb, as you reach up to wipe his lips where the lipstick had gone. 

“Shall we celebrate my win properly?” He opens the door and slides out of the car, holding out his hand for yours.

“As we always do?” And your fingers find his, as he presses his lips to the back of your palm. 

“Always, Princess.” 

“Are you ready yet, Princess?” Your Prince’s arms slid around your waist, his lips already at your neck, as his ocean blues met your gaze in the mirror, “how lucky is our kingdom to have such a lovely future queen? And how much luckier am I to have her as my wife?” 

“We do not know if the people will approve of me still, Toru,” you murmur, eyes shying away from his, your fingers finding the infinity around your neck, “you promised me forever, but will they grant it to us?” 

“Do you have such little faith, sweetheart, in your future husband?” His fingers find your chin, tilting it upwards to meet your gaze, “I’ve already done the impossible — I charmed you over the last two decades haven’t I?” 

“More like wore me down,” and he pinches your cheek, before he presses a kiss to the affronted skin, “re-defined the long game,” and he kisses your nose, “and stole my heart and soul while I wasn’t looking,” 

“I never steal,” he smiles that same smile that was emblazoned in your memory all those years ago, when he emerged from the woods with not a unicorn, but a baby fawn he had frightened from very same thicket, “I only take what was given to me,” he smiles, “and you willingly handed over your heart the moment you let me into your life,” 

“What was I thinking?” you murmur, cupping his cheek, “now I’ll have to deal with the politics of a kingdom for the rest of my days,” 

His lips curl widely, as his lips find yours, a heat that simmers into passion and then into simple love, “I promise, in exchange, I’ll spend the rest of my days making you the happiest you’ve ever been,” 

“The happiest, huh?” you murmur, foreheads pressed together, “that’s a tall order, so you think you can do it?” 

“I know I can,” he smiles, his arms pulling you impossibly closer, “because I’ll never trying to make you happy, Princess.” 

“You’re far too happy with this arrangement,” you say through the door, arms crossed as you pressed your back against it, “I don’t want to come out,” 

“You agreed to this, c’mon sweetheart, you’ve taken countless pictures of me—“ 

“You’re a model — it’s literally your job,” you glare at him through the door, “I’m behind the camera — not in front of it,” 

“But you’re just as beautiful in front of it as you are behind it,” and you can hear his pout through the door, “if you really don’t want to, sweetheart, I won’t make you—“ 

And the door opens, your lips curled in a pout as you emerge in a cerulean gown — the same color as his eyes, the very same that widened upon seeing you. 

“Was this necessary?” you squirm in place, as he bites his lip, eyes raking over you, “Toru—“ 

And he’s in front of you in an instant, his arms winding aaaaaaaaround your waist, “I want to kiss you so badly, but I’ll mess up your makeup,” your breath catches, so his finger brushes against your lips and presses it to his own lips, a little of your lipstick sticking to his lips. 

“Toru,” and his lips quirk at the nickname, “why do you want to take pictures of me?” 

“Because, I want pictures of you that are just for me,” he gently takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your wrist, “because I’ll never have this moment with you again, but I’ll have these pictures with you,” 

“And when do I get pictures that are of you and just for me?” And he presses a kiss to your head. 

“Anytime you want,” he murmurs, “we have all the time in the world, don’t we?” 

Time — that was the one thing Satoru Gojo always lacked. It felt as if his whole life was an hourglass, waiting for the sand to run out — and the one time it came close, blood seeping like sand through his neck, he was able to turn it on its head, until time was on his side agai.  

He wasn’t sure if time was on his side now.  

He could only see the winter sky above — flecks of white he could think were snow but never be sure if that was his vision going blurry. He couldn’t feel anything — but he heard the all too distant squelch of his blood against the ground, the sounds of footsteps, the feeling of his body being lifted, a smile still on his face.

He was going home — the one person who always made his world right side up — the only person who could catch the sand that slipped between his fingers and hold it between warm palms. He forced his body to keep running — to keep going, the flow of cursed energy may have come from the stomach and his brain may be able to power his reversed curse technique — but that didn’t compare to his will to make it home — make it to you. 

“Toru! Satoru!” he couldn’t will his eyes to open, only managing the barest flutter of his eyelids, “it’s okay, Shoko’s got you, I got you,” you murmur, a soft brush that must but your lips. 

Love was always the most twisted curse of them all — and he knew it had always been a curse to love him. Anyone drawn into his orbit seemed only doomed to fall around him — whether it was by their choice, his choice, or fate’s choice. 

Fate. That was a word he never had put a lot of stock into. Suguru always said there was a certain order to things — sorcerers were made to defend humans, and that was our duty. He had replied that fate was an excuse for people too afraid to challenge the status quo. 

Maybe Suguru took that too seriously. 

When Suguru defected — Satoru knew something had to change — he couldn’t let others go even when they had that blue spring. The time that he had stayed frozen in — even as everyone else left, he still lived in those moments, and so he barely lived in the present at all. 

Not until you had shattered his self made prison. 

And it wasn’t without difficulty. 

He told you so many times that it was dangerous to love him, it was foolish to love a person like him with a constant target on their back because inevitably the target would shift to you. And he didn’t want to live in a world without you — but he could choose to, as long as you were the one who would live. 

But you were steadfast in your love, roots cracking through concrete until he was covered in your ivy, entangled so deep that there was no escape—because one look from you had stolen his reservations out from under him. Because loving you was as simple as breathing — it just was. 

“I would want you to curse me — in every life.” 

That’s what he told you the night before this battle — because he knew if he didn’t make it in this life, maybe he could be with you in the rest of them. But how many days would it take until you couldn’t remember the sound of his laugh, the smile on his lips, the way his face looked — because he always feared the same about outliving you. He would only want to outlive you, if only because he didn’t want you to have to bear the pain of outliving him. 

Love was twisted, he thought — as your lips brushed his, he could hear you whisper sweet nothings, falling on deaf ears, but heard all the same — once one found it, they cannot live without it — until they have to. 

His eyes flutter open, and he sees the blurry image of your face, scarlet smeared on your face, as his hand shakily lifted to your cheek, “I love you, sweetheart,” he manages barely a whisper, “I’ll see you again, I promise.”

Maybe he did curse you in the end — because your souls were bound together in existence — to fall into each other’s orbit and live together happily in every lifetime—

Your fingers gently shut his eyes closed, as tears streamed from your own — except in this one. 

“Is it really a curse to meet you again?” you had murmured that early morning, as dawn peaked over Tokyo, and his lips brushed against yours, “sounds like a blessing,” 

“You know that blessings often wear disguises — and words like that always carry a price—” but his lips curl, “but if the price is to meet you and fall in love again and again, I suppose I could pay it.” 

“‘Suppose?’” you repeat, and he laughs at your immediate pout. 

He kisses away your pout, as you slowly melt into his kiss, “Y’know I’d pay any price to fall in love with you again, sweetheart”

You smile, “Just stay with me in this one, that would be enough.” 

Did other lives matter when this was the only one he had fallen for you in this life? He wanted to stay with you here — in this moment, in this time — he wanted you in every life — not just all the others. 

And he vowed that he would— his fingers twitched— 

He would love you in this life too. 

✧ a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this one!! i had a lot of fun writing it. it might not be everyone's cup of tea but hey, i enjoyed it. although i questioned my writing ability a lot while writing it lmao

✧ taglist: @gojolova4eva, @xxemmarldxx, @gojolvrr34, @lilbrubby, @jaixxxsc, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @elaemae, @gojonegs, @captain-shittykawa, @sillyrabbitreads, @akumicchi, @satorustorm, @equikaz, @imaginativeghorl, , @dhoranbolt, @strawmariee, @catsgomurp, @that-goth-bisexual, @fushitoru, @dazailover1900

[itoshiexx]

when you call them "husband"

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you call them "husband".

pairings: itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, isagi yoichi x fem!reader (no descriptions tho, just the words "mrs." and "wifey") (separate) | warnings: established relationship, fluff, kissing, the boys are simps, shidou is a warning itself

notes: hi guys! another one of these scenarios since you guys seemed to like the other one so much <3 thank you for all your love and support! also it's my first time writing for shidou so i hope this isn't absolute garbage.

Itoshi Sae

one of your and sae’s favorite couple activities was driving around the city. you loved the feeling of madrid’s summer breeze kissing your face and messing up your hair, and sae… well, he would never admit that, but sae loved anything that made you happy, even if it meant driving with no clear destination in mind until his feet hurt. so it was no wonder you convinced him to do just that on that afternoon.

after half an hour of wandering around town on a porsche, you decided that some starbucks would do both of you well. your little pleading eyes quickly convinced sae to stop by one, letting you order since the intercom was on your side.

“welcome to starbucks, what can i get for you today?” the man’s voice came out of the intercom, the spanish accent still making it a bit difficult for sae to fully comprehend, despite living in madrid for years now. 

“hi! i’d like a caramel frappuccino and a chocolate muffin, please.”

“anything else?”

you turned to him, asking in a whisper, “what do you want, baby?”

“just an iced matcha tea latte.” he shrugged. you smiled, and sae had to fight the urge to smile too. it was maddening, really — how much of an effect you had on him with something as simple as a turn of lips.

he watched as you turned back to the intercom, “and my husband wants an iced matcha tea latte. that would be all, thank you.”

distracted, sae started to take his foot off the brake to go to the payment booth, but suddenly his body froze. he furrowed his eyebrows, confusion etched on his teal eyes.

wait. 

fucking wait. 

sae didn’t register what the guy on the intercom said next, much less what you answered. he didn’t even notice the line of cars behind him and the need to move forward. all that mattered was that one word that fell from your mouth seconds prior.

“what did you call me?” he asked, silently afraid that it was all a trick from his mind fed on his deepest wishes. 

it was only then you seemed to realize what you said. “o-oh, i… i’m sorry, it just— it just came out…” you squeaked, bashful. fuck, you were so pretty like that, with your cheeks rosy while averting his gaze. 

sae smirked, pinching your chin so that you would look at him. he kissed you with a sweetness that wasn’t usually present in his bitter mouth, and you melted at his gentleness. 

“don’t apologize,” he said as he broke the kiss. “i liked that, mrs. itoshi.”

it seemed like it was finally time for that velvet box on the bottom of his drawer.

Shidou Ryusei

peace. peace was all you wished for — at least a little bit. five minutes on the phone to schedule an appointment was not asking for much, was it?

apparently, for shidou, it was.

you were well aware your boyfriend was selfish, and that was an universal rule when it came to your attention. considering he spent a lot of time away for games overseas, you couldn’t blame him for wanting some time alone, since you wanted it too. 

however, you really needed to schedule your doctor’s appointment, and your whiny boyfriend was making this task extremely difficult. every time you started talking to the lady on the other side of the phone, ryusei would butt in with very unnecessary comments that made your eyes roll. you apologized profusely to the woman about a hundred times, and she assured you it was okay. she even said it was sweet. 

if you weren’t so annoyed, you would have thought it was sweet, too. ryusei was never one to shy away from expressing his love, even if it meant embarrassing you and himself in the process (although he was completely shameless, so it made no difference).

“will anyone pick you up after your exam, ma’m?”

you could faintly hear what the woman was saying, since shidou was babbling nonsense in your ear as if you weren’t on a phone call. it made you sigh, and you rubbed the bridge of your nose.

“yes, my husband will pick me up.”

and then, silence. 

it took you a minute to realize that the outside noise disappeared and ryusei had completely stopped talking. you blinked a couple times, confused, and turned your head to look at your boyfriend sitting on the couch. to your surprise, he was blushing and gaping like a fish, in what seemed to be utter disbelief.

you braced yourself for what was about to come. 

“HUSBAND?!”

ah, there it is. his scream pierced through the living room, and you were certain even the other side of the country heard it. 

“thank you for everything, ma’m. i should be going now,” you told the receptionist. she only giggled and wished you a good day. 

the second you put your phone down, ryusei’s arms were around your middle, lifting you up and twirling you around like some cliche romance movie. your prior annoyance melted away in a second, and you could only giggle like a schoolgirl in love. 

“awww, ya wanna be my wifey?” he cooed, putting you down without letting you go. his nose touched yours and you blushed with the intensity of his stare. 

though you wouldn’t back down. 

“of course i do, ryu.” you smiled sweetly. your boyfriend stared at you, shocked and bashful for the second time in the span of five minutes, and then groaned when broken from his stupor. 

what a little devil, he thought. 

and then he kissed you, intense and dominating like only ryusei knew how to be, prodding his tongue in your mouth when you gasped and savoring every corner of your mouth. it was one of those kisses that swept you off your feet and left you dizzy, and he could tell from the hazy look in your eyes when he finally backed away.

“fuck, i love you so much. you ‘gon be my wifey, baby, i promise ya.”

Isagi Yoichi

you were usually the one to accompany yoichi to parties — mostly galas thrown by sponsors who wanted to secure a deal with some sports hotshot —, so, for him, it was a breath of fresh air to be your plus one on the holiday party of the company you worked for. 

since the company in question was a corporation, it was no wonder the decoration was flawless, with lots of gold and red to represent the christmas that would soon arrive. the soundtrack was mainly composed of classical music, and he smiled watching you enjoying a vivaldi song. it reminded him of the early days of your relationship, where you teached him about your favorite classic musicians such as beethoven, mozart, ludovico einaudi and chopin.

your arms were linked as you wandered around the hall, and, non surprisingly, everyone seemed to want to talk to you. of course they would; you were the sweetest, kindest and smartest soul to walk on this earth. isagi couldn’t be more proud of all the recognition you were getting, because you deserved more than anyone he knew. 

“are you having fun, baby?” you suddenly asked. the striker finally noticed he had been staring at you for a while as you drank a glass of champagne. he blushed, but nodded. 

“how could i not? i’m with you.”

a giggle left your lips along with a fond roll of your eyes, and yoichi couldn’t help but think that, if he could listen to a single sound forever, he would choose your laugh in a heartbeat. 

“you’re so silly, yoichi,” you playfully chastised him, but stepped forward to give a kiss to his cheek. he smiled, circling your waist with one arm and pulling so that your bodies were glued.

“what can i say, you make me silly, sweetheart.”

“isn’t that what love is supposed to do?” a third voice suddenly spoke, slightly startling the both of you and breaking you from your little bubble. 

you put down your glass on a waiter’s tray, smiling at the man that arrived. “mr. tanaka! what a pleasure it is to see you here.”

“of course! i wouldn’t miss such a party!” he exclaimed, laughing a little loud for the etiquette of that kind of gala, but no one seemed to mind. 

“and who is this?” he asked, pointing to isagi. 

“this is my husband, isagi yoichi. he came today to support me.”

with such simple words, yoichi’s mind went silent. 

he could faintly discern the man saying something about being a soccer enthusiast and a bastard munchen’s fan — mostly from reading his lips, since his ears were buzzing —, but honestly, he couldn’t care less. isagi’s heart was beating so pathetically fast that if he weren’t an athlete, he was pretty sure he would faint right there. 

husband. you called him your husband. 

did that mean you wanted to marry him? he’s been wanting to propose for a while. you have been dating for five years, after all, and yoichi was sure there was no one else in this world he’d rather spend the rest of his life with. did you only say that because you already lived together? or did you actually want a wedding ceremony with all your friends and family, signing the paper that would bound you for good? until death do us part, he remembered. though yoichi would love you even after dying—

“dear?” you called him, worry in your tone. it’s only then he realized he got lost in his thoughts, and both you and mr. tanaka were staring at him.

“oh, sorry. it’s really nice to meet you, sir.” he shook the man’s hand, engaging in conversation.

while you watched them, you smiled coyly, hoping isagi took the hint.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[spencereidluver]

I is for "I Knew It!"

november 07, 2008

summary: You and Spencer are caught going out by an all-too-familiar face, causing the two of you to have a talk about the logistics of your relationship.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: the fluffiest fluff anyone has ever seen

“Hey hey, put that wallet away,” Spencer says as you pull your wallet out from your purse. He never let you pay for dinner, even though you begged every time. You will admit, it is nice to always have your dinner paid for, however, you felt bad having him spend so much money on you. 

“No. I want to pay tonight. You always pay,” you said and opened your wallet.

“My payment is having the world’s prettiest girlfriend. I’m paying for dinner, that's final.” He gently grabs your wrist from across the table, stopping you from making any further moves with the wallet. “Got it?”

“Fine, but I’m buying you a coffee in the morning.” You put the wallet back in your purse and give Spencer a smile. You playfully click your shoes with his underneath the table and take a final sip of your drink. Spencer places a credit card on the small black booklet on the edge of the table.

The waitress comes and collects the booklet, giving the two of you a quick smile and says she’ll be right back. 

Spencer hands her a five dollar and two one dollar bills as a tip, and she makes her way to the register.

Spence lets go of your wrist and points his finger at you. “You,” he says, waves his finger at you as he says the words, “should come hang out at my apartment tonight.”

The waitress comes back and hands Spencer his card. “You guys have a good night,” she says as she backs up to let the two of you out of the booth then proceeding to clear off the table. 

Spencer laces his hand with yours as the two of you weave through tables to exit the restaurant. “We can watch a movie or something,” he leans into your ear as you walk.

“I would love to, Spence,” you say and open the door to exit.

“Spencer Reid?” a familiar woman's voice says as the two of you walk out hand-in-hand. You feel his grip tighten. 

The woman was blonde and very pregnant. She was with a thin goateed man. 

“Oh, hey JJ,” Spencer says, stopping his step. “How’s it going?”

“Great, I can’t believe you have a girlfriend and didn’t tell me!” JJ looks at you, her mouth immediately becoming agape. “Y/N?”

Yeah, no one knew you and Spencer were seeing each other.

“Hey, JJ…” You say, happy to see her, but in a little bit of an awkward situation.

“How long? How long has this been going on?” She says, looking over at her boyfriend, Will excitedly. 

“Um about a month,” you begin to say before being interrupted by Mr. Exact.

“35 days,” Spencer says matter-of-factly.

“That’s crazy! Oh my god I can’t believe this. Does anyone else know?” JJ would probably be jumping for joy right now if she wasn’t 9 months pregnant. Will just looked at her lovingly.

“No, we haven’t told anyone yet, we wanted to wait until our relationship was solid.” Spencer said, letting go of your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Seems pretty solid to me,” you say under your breath and lean into Spencer.

“You have to tell the team! They’d be so excited,” JJ exclaims.

“Yeah, we’re going to, we’re just not sure when.” Spencer says.

“It better be before I come back from maternity leave. If you guys aren’t BAU official by the Christmas party you will be sorry.” JJ playfully threatens before being dragged to the door by Will who waves goodbye.

You and Spencer begin walking to his car. “You know, That felt good. To finally tell someone,” you said and lean further into Spencer as your steps match up.

“Yeah, it did,” Spencer says, “What movie do you want to watch?” “The Red Circle is always good.”

“Yeah, but I think I want to watch more of an immature movie. I need a break.”

“How about WALL-E?”

“WALL-E sounds awesome.”

Spencer let go of your waist when you reached his car. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you in by your hand, then hurried around to get in the car himself. 

_____

“I think we should tell the team,” Spencer says. You were sat between his legs on his couch leaned against his shoulder. One of his arms was wrapped around you, the other hand was playing with your hair. He halted his movements once the words came out of his mouth. It was almost as if he didn’t mean to say it outloud.

“What?” You ask, turning to look at him. The lighting from the t.v. hit his face, bringing attention to the rosy blush bleeding through his cheeks. 

“I um… I want to tell the team we’re together,” he repeats. Your mouth falls open, unsure of what to say. “I know it’s early, but I just, I don’t want to have to hide you from them. You’re so special to me.”

“Spencer…”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to yet, I know it could put a lot of pressure on a new relationship, but I…”

You need to shut him up. You lean in and plant a kiss on his lips, letting your breath linger on his mouth. “No, if you’re ready to tell everyone, I’ll be there every step of the way.” His eyes light up. He looks so happy. 

“I’m so lucky to have you.” He leans his head into your shoulder and gently pecks a kiss on your collarbone. You tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. He looks up at you and smiles, resting his chin against your chest. 

You loved when he let you baby him like this. It took him a while to be comfortable enough to let his guard down like this around you, but once he was able to, he basically never stopped. He loved being able to have someone to care for him as it was something he never experienced, even as a child.

WALL-E is playing in the background, the scene where he is showing EVE around his house illuminating the room. Spencer looks up at you, eyes glowing. He nuzzles into your chest, careful not to bump your breasts. He was so respectful; the sweetest boy. 

“What, Spencer?” you ask, keeping your voice smooth and calm. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but you had to make sure not to seem annoyed as he was sensitive. 

“You’re so pretty,” he says, then buries his head in the crook of your neck. 

That’s not what he wants to say, but you comb your fingers through his hair and say, “thank you.” You feel him mumble something into your chest. “What, baby?” you ask him.

“Y/n,” he says, you hum in response, “I think I’m in love with you.”

You can’t help but smile. “I think I’m in love with you, too, Spence,” you say, grabbing his chin and leading his face up to kiss him.

_____

next chapter: J is for "Just So You Know"

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version! 

_____

a/n: hiii :3 i'm currently on break from school and have the next two days off from work, i'm going to try to grind so hard and try my best to get the christmas part out on the 25th, but if that doesn't happen please don't get upset at me... it will 100% be out in december, as the new years part is for sure being posted on the 31st. have an awesome night guys !!

_____

Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

_____

taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology @lotus-ignis @sammy-4103 @ktssstuff

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[writerslittlelibrary]

"Children aren't payment, dipshit"

masterlist

summary: the most feared mob in all of New York only has one rival, which happens to be your father’s mob. When it turns out he is indebted to the feared mob boss Natasha Romanoff, he uses the only thing he has to pay her, you…

pairing: Mob!Natasha x rival mob young reader

warnings: guns, violence, basic mob fic stuff ig :) 

genre: angst, fluff

words: 1339

a/n: this was an adorable idea! (I feel like this is trash, but I just have to get back into my writing flow)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

It has always been difficult, being the daughter of a dangerous mob boss. It wasn’t like you were forced to kill and train with your father’s minions, but you had been living a far from normal life, to say the least.

When you turned seven, your father had called you into his office. 

You had always been a nice and obedient girl, totally opposite of your father, so when he called you to him and told you you were going to stay with your aunties for a while, you believed it. Your father had sent you and your bodyguard to your room, telling you to pack all your important items. 

Once you had finished packing, your father had given you a hug and you had been brought to the car, your bodyguard driving you across town. 

However, once the car stopped at a large apartment building, you had started getting a bit suspicious. This isn’t where your aunties lived…

Your bodyguard had taken you out of the car, but you didn’t want to, leading to him dragging you out, dragging you up to the doors of the building. Once you had arrived at the doors, two women were standing there. One had blonde hair, and the other had black hair. The women with black hair grabbed your arm, allowing your bodyguards to walk back to the car and retrieve your bag, handing it to the blonde women.

After he did so, he walked back to the car and drove away. 

The two women entered the building, walking to the elevator and pressing the button that read ‘PH’. As soon as the doors closed, the women with black hair let go of your arm. However, despite her removing her grip, you still didn’t feel like you could move freely. You were fairly certain that one wrong move and she would be on you again. 

And so, you stood perfectly still, refusing to move, even when the elevator moved a bit. 

The two women barely acknowledged your presence, instead opting to look straight ahead. You felt uneasy standing in between them. 

Once the elevator stopped at the top floor, the door opened at the women with black hair grabbed your arm again, leading you out of the elevator and to a dark wooden door. The blonde haired women walked ahead, knocking on the door twice before waiting for a “come in” to be called from the other side. 

Once the approval was given, the two women walked in, dragging you after them. 

Inside the room was another woman. You recognised her immediately. Who wouldn’t? Your father had always warned you about her. She was the most feared mob boss that New York, or the world really, had ever seen. 

You were in the office of Natasha fucking Romanoff. Were you about to get killed?

The two women walked a bit further into the room, forcefully pushing you down on the chair in front of the desk. 

You didn’t dare protest, nor did you say a word. You were absolutely terrified. Your father had warned you about this women every single day of your life, refusing to let you go outside without protection because of her, and now he had knowingly sent you to her. What the hell was wrong with him?

After you were sat down on the chair, the women with black hair exited the room again, leaving you, Natasha Romanoff, and the blonde haired women in the room. 

“Thank you for bringing her up Carol, you can put her bag in her room,” Natasha spoke, dismissing ‘Carol’ before focusing her attention on you. 

Carol left the room, leaving you and Natasha Romanoff alone. 

“I’m sure you must be very confused, sweetheart, but don’t worry, you’ll be alright,” Natasha reassured, smiling kindly as she stacked a few papers and put them off to the side.

You took a moment, gathering the courage before you spoke. 

“Why am I here…?” you asked quietly, hoping not to disturb Natasha or step out of line.

Natasha smiled, turning to you once more. 

“Your father made some pretty nasty deals. Deals that he couldn’t follow through on. He needed to pay me something, and he didn’t have the money, so I demanded you instead,” Natasha explained, leaving you to look at her with a shocked face.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, sweet girl. I promise you were are much better company than your father’s mob ever was,” Natasha stated, smiling sweetly before she moved to get up, walking around the desk towards you. 

She extended her hand, motioning for you to grab it. 

“How about we go check out your new room?” she suggested, allowing you a moment to think before you nodded and hesitantly grabbed her hand, allowing her to pull you up. 

She led you out of the office, leading you through the pent house towards another door, which was a different colour than the rest of the doors. The door was a beautiful dark shade of your favourite colour, and while you thought your favourite colour would never go with the aesthetic of the apartment, for some reason Natasha made it work. 

She pushed the door open, allowing you to step inside and take in the room. It was beautifully decorated and exactly your style. 

Your eyes widened in excitement, jumping up slightly. You weren’t able to contain your excitement as you saw the room. It was perfect. 

Natasha smiled as she observed your reaction, letting go of your hand to allow you to look around. You did, running from place to place to explore all the play items placed in the cupboards, ending your little exploration by jumping on the bed. 

“I love it!” you yelled out, letting yourself drop on the bed. 

-------------------------------------------------------------

You had lived with Natasha for about three months now, and you were happier than you had ever been. Natasha never hit you if you did something wrong, and she played with you everyday. She was willing to drop all her work if you asked her to play dress up, or if you asked her to play with your dolls. 

You had never been more loved than you were now, and you were happy your father had offered you as payment to Natasha Romanoff. 

Her henge people also adored you. You would play with them as well, and everytime they happily played with you. Your favourite were Carol and Valkyrie. They were the two women that had brought you in on the first day, and they turned out to be your best friends. 

Little did you know that Natasha had known you father hit you at home. She knew the mob boss of the rival mob was not just any criminal. He didn’t have morals, or principles. He did what he did when he felt like it. He wasn’t a good person to those he cared about, so when Natasha found out he had a daughter, she knew she needed to investigate. 

She had sent a hengemen uncover to find out more about you, and what was reported back to her shocked her. 

You were hit whenever you stepped out of line, and you were not well taken care of at all. Once Natasha learned about your situation, she decided she had to get you out, setting up an elaborate deal she knew your father couldn’t get out of.

When you father unsurprisingly failed to follow through on his end of the deal, he was in large debt with Natasha, and she knew she could demand anything from him. 

And so, she demanded she would get you as payment, knowing your father couldn’t do anything but follow through. 

Over the months she had build a soft spot for you, and she was more than glad that she had done what she did. She saved you, and now you were happy. 

Natasha Romanoff may not have been the best human being on the planet, but to those she cared about, she could not have been better. 

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @daddipantherr @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st @superlegend216 @ravensinthedaylight

[mrshowlettsgarden]

The Day We Met - Logan Howlett: the one where Logan meets reader the day he arrives at the X - mansion

─➭ pairing: Logan Howlett x professor!fem!reader

─➭ content warning: fluff, flirty; this is loosely base off of the first xmen movie

─➭ note: welcome to my first post! I'll start taking requests! (prompt list)

●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘●

Logan Howlett definitely didn’t welcome the invitation of practically being kidnapped by a couple of freaks in black and loud leather suits. The teenager he was with in the car accident, Rogue, did though because she found a place to call home and Logan? Well, he claimed he didn't need one to the Professor as he introduced himself and the others to Logan. But Charles made a bargain with Logan.

“While you stay here, Dr. Grey and I will help regain the memories you had lost,” Charles said calmly. 

A dirty look was seen on Logan’s face when the bald man said that. “Now why would I let you or her get into my head, huh?” he scowled at the Professor and Jean, who was protectively standing behind him. 

“You never wondered where you got the name the Wolverine from?’ Charles asked as he nodded towards Logan’s dog tags, “We can help you, Logan. You can move on from cage fighting and stay here.” 

A scoff slipped from Logan’s lips as he anxiously looked around Charles’ office almost looking for an out from this stupid conversation. He gave up the idea of figuring out where he came from years ago or at least he thought he did. Of course he wondered where he got his dog tags from and that’s all he’s ever known for as far as he can remember. But he needed to move on from those thoughts or at least forget the fact that he can’t ever regain his memories again. 

Letting out a deep breath Logan looks back at Charles and thinks for a bit longer. What if the Professor can actually help him? What if this is his only chance at figuring out who he is and how he came to be? Can any of these damn geeks actually help at all?

Fuck this bullshit…

“Fine,” Logan snaps against his own thoughts, “But the second shit goes sideways and I don’t like it, I’m fuckin’ outta here.” He points his finger at the Professor. 

Charles smiles and moves towards the door, “Perfect. Now come while I show you around your new home.” 

Logan can’t count how many times he’s scoffed since he woke up in this new place. He reluctantly follows Charles and gives a dirty look to Scott or Cyclops before he leaves the room. Scott sighs as he looks back at Jean and then Ororo, also known as Storm, “He’s going to be nothing but trouble while he stays here.”

“Everyone is troubled when they first start off here, Scott,” Storms says with a smile as she walks out of the room.  

Jean smiles too as she walks towards her fiancé and gives Scott a kiss on the cheek, “You were nothing but trouble too.”

Scott rolls his eyes as he follows Jean out. “I wasn’t even that bad.”

”You blew up Charles' tree.”

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Logan and Charles made their rounds around the mansion. From classrooms to the bedrooms and as well as the laboratories similar to the one Logan first woke up in. As they walked, Charles shared that this place was a school and a home for mutants, mainly youngsters who are trying to navigate the hardships of being a mutant and having mutant powers all while trying to live a normal life as humans do at their age. Charles also shared that Rogue has the choice to stay and rejoin the world as an educated mutant if she so wishes.

“Most of the adults here were my earlier students who are now teachers. I also teach physics throughout the week,” Charles shared.

“Yeah, well I ain’t about to teach shit while I’m here either,” Logan rolled his eyes. 

“No,” Charles lets out a soft chuckle, “But you will be subbing for those who are away and cannot attend their class. Call it your payment while you stay here.” Logan couldn’t get a word in to talk back as Charles moved ahead of him towards a couple of double glass doors that lead outside, “Now for the backyard.” The professor opens a set of doors with his mind and leads Logan to the balcony that oversees the property. 

“This is a backyard?” Logan questions with a raised eyebrow as looks around the massive green field and trees decorating the property. There’s a fountain ahead of them both and if he looks further there is a trail that leads to a pond further back. There’s students running around on a basketball court. Some are sitting in the grass reading or talking. He also sees a small farm to his right and swears he can smell horse shit from where he’s standing. “The hell is this place…”

 Ignoring Logan’s comment he takes him further into the yard onto a cemented path. “You’ve so far met Storm, Scott, and Jean but we have another Professor here who enjoys spending her time outside so she wasn’t part of your welcome party,” Charles says as he leads Logan towards a glass greenhouse.

Logan looks up and around the huge building and immediately notices the green vines and various plants surrounding the perimeter of the glass walls. He almost guesses that it’s a two-story building with how high the roof is and he’s not even inside yet. “Lemme guess, she’s got a green thumb for powers,” Logan scoffs with assumption behind his tone. 

Charles laughs as they walk towards the double doors, “Something like that,” he says.

And before they even reached the door, two brown branches covered in leaves on both sides of the door began to move towards the door handles. Logan’s eyebrows furrow on high alert as he watches the branches turn the handles to open the doors for the two of them to enter. After both doors open, Logan is greeted with the greenest view he’s ever seen. While it’s not a two-story building like he thought, the high ceilings were a matching height with trees set up around the huge room.It’s like he walked into a second backyard. He can see and smell the collections of plants and flowers filling his senses as he and Charles walk further into the greenhouse. 

And as the further they walk the more Logan can see different landscapes that he assumes correlate the plants to where they’re originally from. He follows the professor as he makes a turn to their left around a hedge to a research area decorated with science equipment and desks for the students. 

“Professor?” a soft female voice calls out anxiously, “Why is everyone telling me there’s a wolverine running around the mansion?” Logan hears Charles softly laugh at the question. “If there’s an actual animal running around, I don’t know how to feel about that because everyone is stressing me out about being eaten!”

There’s a concerned tone in the voice and Logan nearly rolls his eyes at the woman’s thought of him being the animal “running around” and him “eating” them. Before he can bark out a snarky comment, you come around a different corner of a group of plants with a watering can in your hands. Logan cannot deny the fact he almost lost his breath at the sight of you. But he shook the fluttering feeling away before it settled in his chest. 

“Oh!” you say in surprise and pure embarrassment as you see the professor and the “animal” you were stressing about standing tall and intimidating behind Charles’ wheelchair. You really want to slap yourself with the watering can for believing the damn plants about being eaten by a wolverine. 

Charles smiles as he moves closer to you. “No, my dear. No animal,” he speaks softly to you, “This is Logan. The Wolverine that your friends were warning you about.”

You feel your body heat up with more embarrassment while you nervously laugh at the professor’s words. But the nervous smile you were holding went away in a split second as you locked eyes with a pair of scowling hazel ones across from you. You shy away from the dirty look Logan was giving you. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammer out, “If I knew you weren’t an actual wolverine, I wouldn’t have called you an animal… That was very rude for them to say that about you.”

“Them?” Logan questions with a slight attitude.

“The plants,” Charles says like a proud father would sound as he turns himself towards Logan who stood locked in his place, “Logan, this is Dr. Y/n L/n. She teaches biology to the students here in the greenhouse.” 

Logan hums as his eyes study your face and he sees that you move your gaze away from his and it makes him smirk. “So, your mutation is making friends with plants?” he chuckles as he looks at his surroundings.

You look back at him with a slight frown at the overused assumption about your powers. “I can move and grow plants at my own will,” you sigh out with a disappointed look in your eyes but you carry a neutral face, “Communicating with the plants is a bonus…” Logan looks back at you after you answer and sees the disappointing look in your eyes and he starts to feel bad for trying to pick fun at you. 

“I was giving Logan a tour of the property. He will be staying with us for a while,” Charles says as he notices the soft look Logan's holding as he looks at you. With a knowing smirk he turned his full attention to you and you looked back at him, “Y/N, why don’t you continue the tour for me and show Logan his room? I sense that Jean is requesting my presence back in the lab,” he lies through his teeth as he sends you a picture of one of the vacant rooms for Logan from his mind.

Not knowing the real hidden reason for making you finish the tour for him, you nod your head with an understanding look. “Will do, Professor,” you say in a gentle tone. 

Charles moves away from you and past Logan going back toward the doors, “I will see you two for dinner.”

And with that Charles left and silence took over the air between you and the bruting man standing across from you. “Um, well let’s take you to your room. I’m sure you’ve had a rough day,” you say as you put the watering can on top of the table next to you. Logan nods as he begins to follow behind you to leave the garden. 

As he follows you towards the door, Logan sees you raise one of your hands as green like dust form from in between your fingers and with a wave of your fingers he feels something shift in the room. He turns around back towards the greenhouse and sees the branches and vines move to close down the lamps illuminating the gardens in the room then he hears the sound of water in the background slowly die out from the fountains. When he looks back towards you, he swears he sees your eyes turn from green back to your original eye color. 

“Ready?” you ask with a small smile.  

Logan nods silently again and follows you out. 

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The walk back into the mansion was quiet. You nervously played with your fingers as you led him inside and all the way upstairs. As you both walked through the hallway of the corridor, Logan couldn’t help but to steal a glance towards you as the afternoon sun slowly turned to evening. The light that was shining through the window at the end of the hall brightened your facial features that he couldn’t see back inside the greenhouse. He wanted to look at you a little longer but he knew he'd already pushed your boundaries from earlier so he looked away before you could realize.

You then walked a couple of extra steps ahead of him towards a closed door to what he assumes is his room. You open it and extend your arm out with a soft smile. “This is your room,” you say and Logan walks in silently with his hands behind his back to look around. “You have your own bathroom around the corner right here,” you maneuver around the room to open another door to the said bathroom. Then you look towards another side of the room and point to a closet and a set of drawers, “You should have enough room for your things to put in there too.”

The brunette haired man hums in acknowledgment as he walks about his new home. He opens and inspects his closet then turns towards you. “And where is your room?” he asks as he walks towards you. 

Your eyebrows raise at his question. “Down the hall,” you say in a flat tone as you stare at him. Logan hears the faintest attitude behind your words as a soft smirk forms on his lips. You almost want to back away from how intimidating he’s being but that's just because he’s so freakishly tall and built compared to you. Your soft gaze meets his as he’s just an arms length away from you. “Do you need anything else, Logan?” you ask in a soft tone. 

His hazel eyes analyze your face a little better up close and…god you’re so fucking beautiful. He’s eternally beating himself up on the inside for being a brash asshole to you in the beginning. Seeing you this close is making this fluttering feeling in his chest come back again and he’s not going to fight it this time. His gaze moves from your eyes to your rosy lips and he has to take a deep breath to stop himself from making a move on you. Logan can already feel how good it’ll feel to have your lips against his as his hands move gently across your body and down to your –

“Logan?” you snap him out of his daydream that he blinks away from, “Are you alright?”

No… No he’s not. He can feel himself getting hard at the thought of him just kissing you. 

What a damn pervert…

“I’m sorry for earlier,” he says back in a gentle tone, “Didn’t mean to make fun of you or anything like that about your powers.”

A soft cheeky smile formed on your lips at his words. He then realized that he wanted to keep seeing that cheeky smile from here on out. “It’s okay, Logan,” you say back, “Take it as payback for when my plants and I called you an animal when you're not.”

An airy laugh slips from Logan’s mouth. He moves his eyes down to your hands where you’ve been nervously playing with your fingers and then grabs a hold of one of them with his calloused hand. Your breath gets caught in your throat as you watch him guide your hand towards his lips. His soft lips lightly meet your knuckles before he looks back at you. “Still… That wasn’t right of me, darlin’”, he says.

You can feel your cheeks warming up from the gesture and your words nearly don’t form in your head or voice. You gently pull your hand away from his with a small but nervous giggle. “You haven’t been here for a full day and you’re already flirty your way in,” you joke as you slowly walk backwards towards the door. “You should’ve waited to settle in first at least.” 

Logan smirks as he watches you walk away from him, “Don’t be afraid to like it, darlin’” Your pretty smile graces his eyes again as you nod and take your leave as you close his door. Logan lets out a near blissful sigh as he sits down on the bed. He runs a hand through his unruly hair nervously before laying down on his back to look up at the ceiling. 

“Maybe, I’ll stay a little longer…”

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[skrrts]

stairs & life, up / down (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x kim hongjoong ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, strangers to love interest, comfort, soft emotional ✧ word count: 10,4k ✧ warnings: adult language, smoking (don’t do it!), loneliness, end of friendships, moving on from a relationship, getting over heartbreaks, facing challenges in life, crying

The ripping sound of paper, the clicking of a mechanical keyboard. Loneliness sounds & feels different to everyone but somehow, Hongjoong feels like you understand his. Yet, you confuse him. Why was your first encounter so bold when he hears you crying at night when you think nobody is listening? The fire escape of the old building suddenly becomes a place of comfort he didn’t expect to find in the loneliest city, filled with millions of people but now, there is you.

a/n: when i think of summer, i think of spending long nights outdoors because it's still warm and you just talk for hours without worrying about whatever happens tomorrow. hongjoong & mc both went through some hardships with different types of relationships but they are where they want to move on, all they needed was a hand to grab them and help them going forward. thanks for reading 🤎

The sound of paper being torn apart was often how Hongjoong would describe what his own heartbeak felt like and maybe, if it wasn’t already in pieces, it would be now. Fifty hours of passion, sleepless nights, and love torn apart, a woman with an unpleasant face hissing when she dropped his art like it was a random document.

“There was no reason to destroy it just because you did not like it,” he finally stated and received glares for daring to speak up. “It was garbage, what exactly did you plan to do with it? In fact, every artwork you have shown me in the past few months has been just that. What was the point in hiring you when your social media works were all fake?!”

Hongjoong wanted to wince but somehow managed to keep it together, being called deceitful as an artist who had given up so much for his art was hard.

“My style is exactly the same as the work you saw when you contacted me and I work the exact same way,” he bit his lip when she stood up and seemed more interested in answering her phone which was constantly buzzing in her overpriced pouch. People of her rank often held no passion at all, they only faked it for the smiles and the press.

”You have another month, if you cannot come up with the proper concept, you are out and of course, we cut your payment in half again. After all, since you came here five months ago, you did not deliver anything we could work with. That’s all.”

Hongjoong was about to demonstrate but the director of the publishing agency just left him standing there. 

He never wanted to come to New York, he could not care less about the city everyone wanted to live in but there had been nothing left for him back home. When he found the girl he loved and dated since high school being with another, the one he had given his whole heart to so foolishly, telling him it was a pity that kept them together for so long because just like so many other people around him, she judged him for his passion and his income rather than his values and happiness. Sure, he could survive from what he was doing but in their eyes, it was not worth to be called living. She dreamt of a house with a pool, a nice car, and an expensive beach vacation, rather than a cozy apartment, taking the bus and weekend trips.

On that day, when he was crying and walking through his hometown without direction, his parents said that it was time to finally grow up and work for a mindless ad agency that would gladly take somebody with his talent rather than chase his dreams of being permitted to illustrate an entire children's book, one with a deeper meaning unlike all the projects he was part of so far, where he often designed characters but based on guidelines rather than freely.

The invitation of a publisher seemed to be a wink of fate but now, Hongjoong simply found himself trapped in a city of millions, yet never having been more alone. 

Maybe he always had been, considering how blind love made him, believing to hold the love of a woman who cheated on him for who knows how long, likely even making use of his nights of working and being home late.

He had been such a fool.

The small ringing of a bell announced his arrival as he entered the familiar small grocery store which always was the destination at the end of days like today.

One benefit in all of his misery, Hongjoong was used to managing his life with little money, he could live from the shortened salary with some tricking and ignoring cravings. There also had been savings for emergencies, put aside for better times.

“How do you even manage to survive when this is all you eat?” San frowned, pointing at the selection of instant noodles and a few cans as he scanned each one. The store belonged to his family and the student helped out frequently. 

Hongjoong offered him a playful little grin: “Magic, Sannie. Now…”

He bit his cheek and the man knew, frowning: “Another package? You said you meant to quit smoking for good… you rather should get dinner rather than spend it on this shit.”

Painted nails brushed through dark wavy hair as he shrugged: “I’m an artist, we need to have some kind of weakness, yes? Unless I suddenly find a muse and that one makes me go insane.”

He knew the other meant well as he sighed but added a package into the plastic bag, handing it to him. “Just look out for yourself.”

Hongjoong smiled at the younger: “I always do. See ya.” The guy did not need to know what he was going through, maybe Hongjoong himself was still trying to understand just that.

It was easy to smile for everyone, he had become an expert in that field. Maybe he should join those TikTokers who made seminars out of canvas pages about something that barely was a secret but called it ‘Guide to Happiness’.

At least, he was about to be home, his haven. Hongjoong had been thrilled when he found the under-the-roof apartment because there was no AC and the building was rundown, the rent was cheap but he loved it because he easily managed to access the roof, there was nothing more beautiful than allowing himself to sulk in loneliness while watching the never sleeping city.

It was almost poetic, wasn’t it?

There also used to be the benefit of being the only one who did not put some shutters on the window which was the entrance to the fire stairs. The view was ugly, but it was handy to simply take the stairs and get right up.

Well, it used to be because the new tenant who moved into the apartment right underneath him did not seem to share the sentiment of the others, the window was always wide open and it would be creepy if he would rush past it.

He lurked up but Hongjoong noticed immediately how it was open again and he sighed, muttering to himself as he made the way up to the longer stairs. Too many. He dodged a few abandoned shoes of children in front of one, a growling dog at the third, and survived!

“I am home.” 

When he unlocked the door, silence greeted him. There no longer was anyone who rushed over to smile and welcome him back but now, he was not even sure if that ever happened or merely being an imagination, an altered memory. 

His apartment was small but that was okay, he didn’t need a living room and only having a tiny shower made being short less tragic.

While Hongjoong lived up to the cliche of being a poor artist, at least he did not need too much space.

His gaze went over the sketches still scattered over the kitchen table, picking one up: “Guess, you aren’t it either, sorry.” Unlike that awful woman, he carefully formed a small pile and put it in a paper tray for all his rejected designs, so far it had been every single one he offered to them. 

Maybe it was time to give up…

No, this was not the time to cry and get sad! Urgh, hard enough to admit he had been such a crybaby when moving here, the way how his heart ached and he was lost among strangers. It was when he started smoking again, something he stopped years ago but now.

There was nobody who would complain about the smell.

Hongjoong slipped into the shower, running water always helped to wash away thoughts, he just imagined it as he carefully cleaned every inch before enjoying the feeling of a fresh pair of clothes and ruffling his hair with a towel. 

“Attempt number seven it is,” he sat down, pulling over his tablet when a loud ringing sound interrupted the early hours of the night, enough to make him jump.

“The fuck?!” Hongjoong blinked, looking around but he was sure he didn’t even own an old-fashioned alarm clock. As the sound wouldn’t stop, he rushed to the window, lurking out only to realize it must be coming from your place. Why would you have an alarm clock going off at nine?!

Nobody else seemed to be interrupted by it but Hongjoong and he was working best at night. As nothing happened, he figured you probably just forgot to turn it off before leaving, how reckless to leave your window open in New York!

There was clear hesitation before he climbed out of his window, taking down the stairs: “Screw this…”

Your window was wide open, the curtains softly floating outside, all lights on. Your place was just a little bigger than his but you surely put more effort in! The walls were painted in a comfortable olive green, plants matched perfectly with the white furniture and there was a large gaming setup he did not really expect but then, what did he know about you? The bed was covered with far too many pillows but there it was, the one causing so much trouble.

The alarm clock had the shape of a flower, it was cute and he wondered how somebody who liked such a style would move to this part of the city…

“What do I do?” Hongjoong looked around. He counted to one hundred. There was nobody in sight, the sound drove him insane and he did not want you to get back home just to find your expensive equipment stolen. The world was an asshole to him but he intended to be better.

He swallowed and slipped inside your home, quick steps leading to the damn noisy item to turn it off. At that moment, the bathroom door opened and you walked inside, holding likely a few bottles of soap you just switched out, your gazes met and he could see how your face turned red, just like his own, and the next second, there was a small scream and you started to throw shampoo bottles at him.

Hongjoong tried to dodge them, dropping the alarm clock in the attempt and grabbed one of your pillows to protect himself.

“Hold on! Stop throwing things at me”, he called out but now you seemed angry.

“Why would I do this?! You just broke into my apartment! A thief? Gosh, you are one of those perverts, aren’t you?” You were one burst of energy, he had to give you that. Hongjoong was about to say something when he fell backward over another pillow.

His hands lifted up into the air, praying you’d not murder him with hair conditioner: “Hold on, hold on. I live above you! Your alarm wouldn’t stop and I thought you left so I meant to close the window, lots of robberies in this neighborhood!”

While your face remained distrustful, you held your movement in the middle of the air, frowning, doubting.

“Which neighbor breaks into a place to turn off an alarm bell?” you questioned and that was a good question. Who would have done that? 

“Well, I actually work at night, I need a little bit of silence but how am I supposed to do this with that noise?” he pointed at the alarm once more and this time, you considered his words.

“Fine, let’s say it is the truth. It’s still weird, you could have used the staircase and just knocked on the door like any other angry neighbor would.”

That was… a very good point. 

“I should have done that,” he admitted and slowly stood again. You were looking at him, maybe considering how he barely looked like a threat, considering he was wearing pajama pants and a hoodie with a washed-out brand name.

“Alright, I will forget about it. Now get out!” you pointed towards the window and Hongjoong found himself blushing in embarrassment. he clapped his hands, bowing slightly: “I promise to knock next time.”

As you hurried over, you wondered if he had seen right and there was a small smile on your lips as he carefully slipped out. As he turned around on the fire escape, you closed the window, and your gazes met for a moment, he was giving you a tiny wave before you rolled your eyes and closed your curtains.

Hongjoong stood there, blinking for a moment until he sighed and made his way upstairs, just to be greeted with the wind likely having shut his own, forcing him to go all the way down like that and up to his apartment. Thankfully he didn’t lock the door yet when he came home earlier.

“Tch, such a reckless neighbor,” he smiled.

“Oh? Oh! This is new!” Wooyoung fished the box with flower-shaped chocolate out of the paper bag. Hongjoong made a face, trying to snatch it but the younger grinned, holding it up.

“They are also kind of expensive, do you have a crush?” It took some effort but eventually, he stole his box bag and gave it to San who was scanning them.

“I am not in love, I just kind of pissed off one of my neighbors and now I intend to make it up somehow since they live in the apartment right underneath me,” he put quite a bit of effort in leaving out as many details as possible because Wooyoung would be curious enough to just knock on your window to see himself.

“Right, you said somebody moved into the empty apartment? Took some time, you mentioned that it was already without a tenant when you moved in.”

He appreciated the cashier was offering some distraction to his best friend’s consideration of just going with Hongjoong, he did not need to say it out loud for the older to guess as much.

“Ah yeah, the landlord was surprised when he offered that one but I asked about the rooftop apartment instead. I just like the peace and quiet, nobody above me, all that,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his neck.

“The Lone artist above the rooftops of New York City, romantic if you asked me,” Wooyoung winked and grabbed his backpack. “Anyway, time for training, call you later San!” He waved and rushed off, the other just smiled before handing the grocery bag to Hongjoong.

“I am sure the person knows to appreciate it, this is the first time I have seen you try and … well, mention to interact with anyone outside of this store.” 

Hongjoong tried his best not to swallow hard. While San only was having a casual conversation, he called out something that the artist had tried to avoid admitting: he had dodged everyone and everything ever since coming here.

The hurt was still too deep, the way the person closest to him, he smiled at and kissed every day, threw him away like trash and everyone else saying he should understand how it certainly wasn’t an easy life rather than taking his side

or just offer comfort.

He could have used a hug.

Now, it was hard to let anyone in. San and Wooyoung were nice but they just were two guys working at a grocery store that was conveniently close to his apartment, as kind as they seemed. 

“I just really like living here, sure, the neighborhood’s a bit … tense at times but otherwise, the rent is really cheap and the place is great to work at, not much noise considering we are in a city of this size.” 

San was looking at you, it was hard to tell if he took it or simply decided to keep his thoughts to himself but he smiled: “Well, just make sure to also enjoy the city, not only busy yourself with work. I know, artists are said to do that but yeah.”

It was as if he wanted to say more but Hongjoong already waved in tiny, grabbing his bag: “Speaking of that, I have a deadline so I better be going. Thanks again.”

Hongjoong was out the moment after, he could not hear San’s deep sigh when the bell rang once more.

He spent a good amount of time drawing a little doodle that looked like your alarm clock, looking upset and cursing about that weird guy in a little thought bubble. Next to it, Hongjoong wrote, "Sorry for having broken into your place, heard this chocolate is great." He was pleased with the result and carefully stepped outside his window, placing the little delivery right by your window, knocking against the glass, and he rushed upstairs, jumping into his own home as he waited for the noise of you opening.

His heart was beating loudly when he lurked around the corner, hearing you sigh but in a pleasant way. He did not dare to fully look, biting your lip but after a very long minute, he could hear your voice: "Just knock next time you want to say hello."

Your laugh was so soft and cute.

He grinned when the window was shut a moment later and the chocolate was gone.

Hongjoong had a talent for forgetting about time when he was working and it was less about the deadline and more so about his passion. He always loved to draw, it had been his escape from a young age and he pushed through it, no matter the concerns of everyone around him. He never wanted to be rich, just do what he loved and make enough to be able to live from it.

In a way he did, his old apartment was small but nice with a lovely view and enough space for two. Looking back, he had been a fool how he thought that his ex would enjoy it, that she liked they took their time and both added to a dream of a larger home. The series he illustrated with a few other artists for a children's magazine was doing well then, he knew it was one of the favorites in consideration of being further produced with another spin-off when it happened, Hongjoong quit.

Just like most, he also worked digitally but when he was in the early stages, he often liked to reach out for old-fashioned paper, getting a few sketches done. It was when his pencil rolled from the table that he pulled the chunky headphones from his ears to pick it up when he heard it for the first time.

It was a quiet sob, the kind where you hated yourself and just wanted to stop but your body was boycotting you, ignoring your quiet pleas for it to stop. Hongjoong had done the same for a while after coming to New York but somehow, yours hit him more than he expected. The way you faced him when he came in, the conversation after.

He should know better than assuming you were a confident person just doing your thing.

His slim figure pressed against the wall next to the open window when he listened to how you cried.

It was strange, when the heart ached, even a city like this could fall in utter silence, making one feel even more alone. He bit his lip, it was hard to listen to it and when he finally convinced himself that checking on you was more important than his fear of interrupting, the small clicking sound to pull his window fully open seemed to be enough to chase you inside like a bird fleeing from busy human steps.

All Hongjoong managed to see was the way how your lights turned off and for a moment, he wondered if you maybe prayed that he did not come down to see, that the weird guy above you just opened his window to let him some refreshing air in at the end of Summer.

He was trying to recall all of those nights after you moved in, where he kept his window open and so did you. What did he hear then? There had been that clicking sound, he could hear it any time he ended up sneaking up to the roof to smoke a cigarette. He never put much thought into it but now, you always seemed to be typing on your keyboard and you were home all the time, just like he was.

When he returned from groceries, your lights were on, and when he lurked outside in the morning, the window open.

In a movie, he probably would have thought more about it and told himself to see if it would happen again. Maybe you just had a bad day. Maybe you were just going through a hard breakup.

Just.

Maybe, if anyone had been more gentle with Hongjoong, he'd not have felt the need to move far away in a desperate attempt of moving on.

No, things would have been different if people would have acted and wasted less time guessing.

"Screw this," he cursed and walked over to the mirror. He was trying to fix his hair but it was a mess so he grabbed a hoodie and put on some summer shorts, cigarettes shoved inside of his pockets, two bottles of soda in each hand.

If you thought he was insane after this, he could live with it, really. He preferred it above having to regret wondering what happened tonight.

Hongjoong took two stairs at once until he was in front of your windows, curtains closed and while it was dark, he could see a small gleam of light, likely from your phone. He took a deep breath before knocking again.

"Hi there, it's me. Again... Uh I am Hongjoong! I know I am probably starting to get annoying, and if you decide to not answer, please just do not call the police.... I was just thinking, maybe you want to have a soda with me? I can't slepe either, I tend to work through the night.

He rambled because this was how he found comfort, he did not need to hear specific words, just little affirmation, a gesture of love. It could be something silly.

When you did not answer, he bit his lip and looked around: "Uh, I will sit down here and smoke one cigarette. If you decide not to come when it's done, I promise I go back up. I'll leave you one bottle there."

He called, placed it down carefully, and moved over to the stairs, taking a few up before sitting down, opening his own drink before lightening the cigarette.

He was exhaling only for the first time when the window opened: "You know, smoking is super unhealthy?"

Your voice did not indicate that you were crying but he could see your eyes still being red and puffy. Hongjoong looked at you like you were amazing just like that.

"You are right, I admit, I only picked the habit up recently again."

He blinked surprised when you grabbed the bottle and sat down by his side, just to take the cigarette away and inhale the smoke. He was blushing, not having expected such a bold move after you cried.

"Guess, we can make it a bad habit just for tonight then," you breathed and used the stairs to open the bottle, drinking it more like it was a party drink rather than ordinary soda, offering the cigarette back.

Hongjoong was in awe, he did not assume you would be so outgoing, although he had no doubt you were brave considering the way you two encountered face to face for the first time. The thought let him grin a little: "Sounds good to me."

His gaze wandered back over the not-that-pretty view: "The sight from the roof is pretty amazing, not sure if you maybe want to have a look another night. I can show you how to get up there."

You laughed, relaxing back: "Why am I not surprised you went up there?"

The man looked innocently: "Well, I have a lot of time to think when I am settling for a design."

The word seemed to gain your interest and you leaned in: "You work at night and that doodle was really cute. Is it something artistic you are doing for a living?" The question was fair and straightforward, leading him to shrug just a little. Most people were disappointed about the answer, somehow it did not seem to be a popular idea when it came to art.

"I work as an illustrator for children's books or that is the preferred one, I also do magazines or commercial designs for such. As for books, I do both, the traditional ones for young kids where the images carry most of the story but I also occasionally take scenes from books for older audiences, you know, mainly those right before young adults where you find little images between the chapters? Mh, I dream to make one exactly in the design I want but for now, I am stuck to work with criteria set by the publishers."

Hongjoong learned to explain what he was doing right away because when it came to illustrations, people often thought about the really expensive artworks connected to infamous titles. You did not really seem to bother with the clichés, instead, your face was so bright and excited, that he was feeling shy.

"That's so cool? I only got into reading because of those kinds of books. I mean, I get it, you are supposed to go wild with your imagination when it comes to reading but I always preferred those pages that told me what to expect but that makes sense, I'm a number person. I like facts."

Numbers, huh.

"This is the very infamous part where I offer to you that if you ever want to see something, knock on my window any time or well, I guess. You have all the right to just walk in through my window. I am awful and my phone is my alarm clock tho," he teased with a more confident grin and you returned it gladly.

"I will keep it in mind, Hongjoong." You stretched.

"It's getting late and you wasted your cigarette, I will take that as a sign to withdraw," you smiled and picked up your bottle, standing. The artist was a little disappointed but it was fair, he knew it had been far after midnight when he heard you crying but now, he was happy to see you relaxed.

"Maybe I will come back to your offer," you hummed and walked down to your window. "Oh, by the way, I am __ and don't be too disappointed, I am a software engineer. That is also why I am home all the time, the bliss of being able to dodge offices but I feel, that you know well."

As you slipped inside, you were about to close the window before lurking out again: "The chocolate was tasty, thank you."

As the window shut, Hongjoong stood there, smiling to himself.

He didn't remember ever having felt as tense in the past when handing in drafts. His old publisher had been a guy in his early 60s and even in the early stages of Hongjoong's 'career', supporting them to test their own ideas within the limits of the work. Something about getting a poor payment but at least, being able to do their thing.

There was yet a small voice of hope, one that told him this piece of paper would not be torn apart because the woman was looking at it far longer than she had at any other of his earlier designs. After hanging out with you, Hongjoong had worked nonstop, a new adrenaline rush that helped him get done with it.

Finally, he exhaled when she leaned back, placing it on the desk: "Finally, something we can work at. I approve of the cats, I expect a more detailed version at the end of the week. The dogs are too ... basic. There is just nothing memorable about them, I want two pairs of options for them. That would be all, Mister Kim."

Hongjoong could live with that! The cats were the story's main protagonists about a pair of cat siblings moving with their owners to a new city and dealing with all of the changes. Yeah, maybe it did not seem like a deep story, just another book to offer comfort to kids moving but the name on both, the writer and label were big... opening doors. What else did he have left than his career and maybe, the nagging desire to show everyone how he could do it?

I would rather be happy tho, and loved.

He only gave her a quick nod as she seemed busy again, slipping out of the office. "Why is this such a pain...." he mumbled and checked his phone. Would it be weird or too early to ask you for your number? Hongjoong hadn't given it to anyone, well except San because he got permission to use the convenience store as a secondary address, should packages fail to be delivered to his door.

Hongjoong could not deny that he was tempted to look you up online but he did not log into any of his accounts since coming to New York. If anything... he did not even tell anyone. He just sold everything, quit his job, and moved. The only person who knew was his older brother, who had been supportive unlike the rest of the family but accepted his wish to remain hidden for some time.

"Honjgoong!"

Hearing his name out in the open made him wince and he blushed when he noticed it was you who called out for him. You were smiling, waving confidently, ignoring gazes. Maybe you really just had a tough day last night. It was so hard to imagine you being somebody who cried a lot.

"Seeing you out in the wild, I am scared," he teased with a grin, walking to your side. You pointed at the heavy bags with groceries, making him realize what you wanted.

"I see how it is, somebody asking me to make the stairs my workout," he chuckled as you looked innocently. "How about, we call it quits then, for good? And in return, you can use the fire escape as often as you want, no worries. You did start to avoid doing that because of me, didn't you?"

He was surprised by the question: "Uh... how do you know about that?"

You laughed and it was sweet, he preferred seeing you happy: "Well, when I signed the contract, the owner told me the guy above likes to take them so he advised me to put something in front of the window but then, nobody ever came."

It was your way to tell him you appreciated he tried to think of your comfort, wasn't it?

"If you are sure, I rather like walking them. I got one of those window locks, I found them on a website and they are really handy. I just prefer it because the dog from the lady on the third floor, he hates me," he admitted.

It seemed to amuse you: "Not surprised, you remind me of a cat or maybe more of a fox? Mh, I love them equally, pick the one you prefer." You rushed ahead while he took the bags, rubbing a hand over his face. Ah, it was a talent of yours, wasn't it? Making him blush.

Thankfully, it wasn't too far from the building and Hongjoong got up all the bags in no time.

"Do you want to come in?" your offer showed a hint of hesitation and Hongjoong was overworrying again. Would it be strange to accept it? Was he too keen on showing how he really would like it?

"Sure, I have some time until nightfall. I have to update some of the designs, they finally accepted two of them," he made sure not to stare, not only to be polite but he already had seen your apartment when he broke in last time.

You opened the fridge and offered him a bottle of cool water, one he gladly accepted. "You said, you do like computer things... Don't mind me, I do not know a whole lot about it. I admit, when I was here last time, I thought you might be a gamer."

His Ex used to watch Twitch streams, something about finding them relaxing.

He regretted the question the instant he asked because of how your expressions slipped.

"Ah, you could say I used to enjoy gaming? It was something I did with a ... former friend." The way you reacted hinted likely it must have been a really good friend, or why else would you look so hurt about saying such a thing` Friendships ended so often, yet this one must have meant a lot to you.

Hongjoong tried not to read too much into your expressions, he did not know you well enough to have a right of doing so, likely just misreading it.

"I am sorry to hear. My friends and family weren't always so keen on my obsession with working for book illustrations either. I would not say they meant to tell me to instead work a proper job but they thought, I should just work for some big company that needs them for ads and such but that is just so soulless, you know?"

His confession was too honest but he felt comfortable with you, sharing it. Maybe it really was because you were strangers and you did not know him or his past, you wouldn't judge him based on that.

He prayed you'd not. You seemed to think about it before saying with the kindest smile: "Following your dreams is important, Hongjoong. I get that, families always mean well but sometimes, we have to figure things out on our own."

He was too nervous to offer a good answer.

"Anyway!" the quick smile was forced but he accepted it. "You said, you know how to get up on the roof? I was thinking, we could do it tonight? It sounds silly but there will be a star shower... I do not think we can see it in a city like this but we can pretend to! I shopped for some snacks, we can make it our own little event."

Hongjoong blinked, eyes big when you invited him: "Oh! Sure! I can make some time, just knock on my window!" He did not have the time based on the deadline... but he would get it done for you! Sounded like time to fight the habit of sleeping in and work during sunlight hours for a change.

"Awesome, I'm excited then!"

There was not too much else to be said it seemed, your thoughts clearly elsewhere, and Hongjoong could only guess it was because of your friend.

The illustrator spent an hour trying to pick an outfit. Tanktop, skinny jeans, some jewelry, he even picked a barret he hadn't worn in ages but it seemed the best way to deal with his hair, even his nails were repainted before he climbed up and prepared a small cozy corner, a blanket, two pillows and a few LED candles.

By the time you knocked on his window, he was almost terrified he made it look too much like a date but then, he looked at you and it seemed, you had a similar mindset. You looked stunning, and the backpack hinted you got more than a few snacks.

"You look amazing," Hongjoong complimented, he liked your style. "Sush, you sure you aren't a model and just failed to tell me?" You brought up the cliche line but it made him laugh: "Well, I tried."

As he joined you, he led you up the stairs which ended abruptly. "If you pull here, there is actually a hidden ladder," he explained and showed it to you. "Very handy, and you can simply pull it up from up there so nobody sees it."

You seemed amazed just how simple it was and carefully climbed up first.

"Oh Hongjoong, this is so pretty!" you gasped, looking at his little setup. The sun vanished just a little while ago and the candles created a nice atmosphere.

"Well, how often does one get invited to star gazing at my age? I thought it would be nice," he explained, chewing his lip as he helped you take off the backpack.

"Well, I guess it is good then I brought an entire picnic!" Indeed, you did but it wasn't just snacks, you prepared the meal obviously yourself and it made him wonder. Did anyone other than his mother ever do this for him?

"This looks delicious!" he clapped his hands together, looking over it.

"Mh, I cannot promise the taste can live up to the looks because it has been a while since I made most of these dishes," you admitted and offered him a pair of chopsticks but he shook his head: "It already smells great, and nothing can betray that."

You seemed to enjoy how expressive Hongjoong was in showing just how much he loved your cooking. His face did not manage to hide it but it was to no surprise, not only because it was tasty but because he had been living off ramyun for the past couple of months due to his cut salary.

"This is so good, I will vote for you as home cook of the year," he mumbled between trying to chew and swallowing.

"Hongjoong, are you sure you ate in the past month or two? You are eating like you were about to starve," you smiled but there was a little concern in your voice as you ate slowly.

The artist carefully placed his chopsticks aside, contemplating if it was okay to be so honest but since he already shared quite a bit with you, it seemed fair.

"To be honest, I came here a little unplanned. I got this really amazing deal or it sounded like that but the publisher CEO lady has rejected all of my designs of the past few months and they cut my salary in half every time. I get around with some savings but food wasn't on top of my priority list."

Now you did seem concerned and sighed: "You know what? She is stupid! I looked up your work and it's so cute? I mean it! I know nothing about that business branch but I like it, they are cute and as a kid, I'd have loved them but also... I used to share a place with somebody and I have a hard time getting rid of the habit of cooking more than I need. How about you come over here and then, and pick up the rest? I hate to throw away so much."

Did you look him up? Oh, that was unexpected. Hongjoong was just looking at you in awe and you seemed a little confused by it.

"You do not have to, of course!" It seemed you both were good at misreading.

He hurried to wave his hands: "Oh no! I'd love that! I just... was a little shy when you looked it up. I appreciate it. If you ever need a doodle or like ... anything drawn, let me know. I like doing it for people."

As he looked at you somehow, it felt like you two were the same. Something happened which brought you here, leaving behind a very different life but now that you sat in front of him like that, Hongjoong was so grateful and he tried to place the meaning of his heart beating just a little too enthusiastically right now.

"You know, when I was in high school, I was befriended with this really amazing guy, Hwa. He moved away with his parents before graduation but after exams, when we both knew we screwed up really badly. He would drag me up to the rooftop of our school and play silly songs from the early 2000s we danced to. I know that sounds insane but how about... we do that?"

Hongjoong didn't think about Seonghwa in a long time. He tried to find him online a few years ago but it seemed the older did not think too much about social media either.

"You want to dance?" you chuckled and checked your phone: "Well, I'd say we have another hour until the promised star shower so let's do it. You will have to provide the music tho, I forgot to close my Spotify on my computer."

Hongjoong grinned: "No worries, I got us."

It was funny but he remembered the song and there was an entire playlist dedicated to the vibe he wanted to go for. Relaxed and soft, a little silly but not embarrassing. He ensured the volume wouldn't cause too much attention but you did not seem to care at all.

When the melody and the lyrics began you just let go. Hongjoong swallowed as he watched you and for the first time in a long time, suddenly he was feeling... excited? It was different from a grand job offer or moving, it was more like that telling himself life would go on actually was real. That good things still would happen if he just kept on going.

"What are you waiting for? Don't tell me you are getting shy now," you moved closer to him, taking his hands without hesitation before starting to dance together. The shuffle was doing a good job because it went from energetic, leading to the two of you just silly jumping and vibing to something a little slower and before he knew it, his arms were curled around your figure and you rested your head against his shoulder as you moved with the music.

"This is nice," you whispered, your gaze seemed to be far off in the distance. "I forgot how nice it can be just like that." You sighed deeply without saying anything else but Hongjoong quietly agreed as his hug tightened a little. "It really is."

It was only when your phone started to ring and you withdrew that he was a little disappointed. "Okay, time for the stars!" you smiled, looking around before glancing back at the blanket. "Let's do it like we are in the countryside!"

Without hesitation, you grabbed a pillow and laid down, looking up to the sky which was just dark, the light of electricity stealing the beauty of the night. Hongjoong laid down next to you, looking up.

"Isn't this the most beautiful night sky you have ever seen?" you gasped, pointing towards nothing: "There they are! Okay, time to make your wish but remember, you can't tell anyone!"

You were so bright and outgoing, Hongjoong envied you but also quietly was thankful how you tickled this out of him again. Even before his breakup, he had been so busy struggling with work and expectations, when did he act so carefree for the last time?

"Working on the wish," he whispered and closed his eyes.

His wish for life never changed: be happy, together with people who truly loved and cherished him and he'd do the same for them.

He winced when he felt your cool hand reaching out, squeezing him and his head turned around, the beret slipped from his hair as your gazes locked. There was another moment of hesitation but you rolled onto your side, your eyes saying what words did not manage but they did not need to as you slowly closed them. Hongjoong's hand was placed on your cheek and you met in the middle into a tender kiss.

It was nothing breathtaking like in the movies, much more a kiss between students who never kissed before but yet, were so lost in the moment that they didn't worry. It only lasted for a little before your lips parted: "Guess, my wish already came true just now."

Hongjoong blushed, he wanted to say more but there was a small quacking sound. The two of you sat up immediately.

"Did you hear that?" you whispered. Hongjoong nodded: "Nobody ever comes up here and I come here almost every day since I moved in." You exchanged a few gazes before carefully standing up, following him closely, hiding behind the chimney.

Suddenly, a large figure dressed all in black jumped up like a ninja in a movie. You gasped but Hongjoong just blinked.

"Wooyoung?!"

"Wooyoung?"

"Wooyoung!"

San's figure showed up right behind his best friend, who was tugging on his jacket, clearly catching his breath. "I told you not to do this!" The younger man was just grinning: "But I had to make sure I left an impression!"

You chuckled as Hongjoong pointed to you that it was okay.

"I take it those are your friends?"

The word made Hongjoong blink. He saw these two idiots almost on a daily base now, he talked to them and while he never shared any personal details, they never treated him like other customers or a stranger.

He really did a great job on distancing, didn't he? Considering he claimed to have nobody but just made friends without realizing it.

"Something like that," Hongjoong said with a quick smile but Wooyoung already pulled him closer, pressing his cheek against his. "Sh, he is just shy! We are the best buddies!"

Hongjoong yelped and now was sparring with Wooyoung while San rubbed a hand over the back of his neck: "Sorry, we didn't mean to interrupt your date. Wooyoung has a hard time keeping his curiosity in check."

You hummed, knowing Hongjoong didn't hear it. Maybe it was for the better.

"That's okay. Actually, that's what I like about him. He's chaotic, just like me."

You clasped your hands together, cheering. "So Wooyoung! We got some food left, are you hungry?"

The younger stopped, grinning: "Always!"

Hongjoong groaned when he was woken up by loud noises coming from the staircase. He rolled onto his side, face lit up by his phone screen. It wasn't even seven but for some reason, it seemed neighbors decided to make a fuss. There was screaming, he was sure about that.

He grabbed a pair of sneakers, not caring too much about all else and decided to have a look because it seemed a little too loud considering you and an elderly woman lived the floor underneath.

The moment he recognized your voice, Hongjoong stopped all logical thinking, he took two stairs at once to face a very upstyled woman around his age. Expensive brands and overdone makeup, there was an envelope open, torn paper on the ground, and you were all in tears.

"What's going on?!" Hongjoong rushed to your side but you barely seemed to recognize him.

"How did you even find out where I live?! I won't sign this just go!" you yelled and it seemed to make the woman just more angry.

"___, stop being so stubborn! Just sign the damn rights! You are not part of the team anymore, you have no use for the brand name! Just sign it and we never have to meet again!"

By now, more neighbors had come and the least Hongjoong wanted for you was to deal with the police.

"Hey, get in. I will take care of it," he whispered to you, both of his hands on your cheeks to force you to look at him through teary eyes. It was when you finally realized you weren't alone, you swallowed hard, nodded but carefully withdrew. When the woman tried to get in, Hongjoong pushed her back.

"If you do not leave now, we will call the police! If you have any needs, use a lawyer!" he remembered how his mother watched those shows when he was little, they always just yelled about lawyers.

"Who are you? Loverboy? God, how can one person fall so low? Living in this shithole and now this?" she hissed, spitting on the ground before leaving. Hongjoong waited to ensure she'd not get back up before he slipped inside, closing your door.

You had curled up on your bed and he was a little overwhelmed but it did not matter. Hongjoong called out your name gently as he sat down on the edge of the bed, wanting to make sure you knew he was there, maybe his way of asking for permission.

When you did not move, he curled his arms around you to pull you tight like back on the rooftop, hand gently patting over your back. He wasn't going to tell you it would be okay or ask you to stop crying because he knew that sometimes, mind or body did not want to, couldn't.

All one needed sometimes, was a hug and somebody there with you.

It was hard to say just how much time passed when you turned around slowly. Hongjoong loosened the hug a little without moving back and you looked at him.

"You do not have to tell me anything," he assured in his soft voice but you shook your head slowly. "I want to... it just... it's embarrassing."

This time, it was he who shook his head: "Nothing that makes you feel sad ever is embarrassing, ___. Your feelings matter, you know?"

He was relieved to see it brought a little smile to your lips.

"You know, that also is true for you. If you are sad... it's okay. I understand it. Please don't feel like you have to hide it."

So you did look right through him after all: "You got me there... It is hard to admit weakness... I guess, for me at least. I was hurt by the people I cared for the most. Now, it is hard, like how to let them in again, how to trust?"

Your fingers gently reached out, brushing over his cheeks and he held still like if he moved, you might vanish into thin air.

"I get that," you admitted. "You see, that woman used to be my best friend since middle school. A few years ago, we started to stream together for fun. I made good money with my job, so I bought the equipment and I really was okay playing more of a background role. We worked on it together but she was the star, I didn't mind she also streamed a lot without me but then, numbers rose and there was a sponsorship she did not tell me about. One day, I got home from my office, and all the equipment was gone, together with my best friend. I was locked out of the accounts, the savings I kept at home for emergencies were stolen, and well. She spread some nasty rumors about how I was jealous and things got ugly... So I moved here. It is hard, your best friend is usually the person you rely on for comfort when something awful happens but now, there was nobody and I am stupid, the type of person that fully believes in a friendship."

It was sad, to think how money always ruined everything, love and friendship. Hongjoong watched you as you spoke, going more into the details and he made sure to listen well, to show you that he didn't only do it because you two kissed or because of you crying. He really cared about you and wanted to understand you better so he did not have to fear again, that imagine of you alone on the fire escape.

"There is nothing awkward or embarrassing about your feelings. You trusted and lost her. You tried your best to start over, leave it behind but she cannot let it be for selfish reasons," Hongjoong concluded and you finally relaxed.

"Thank you for listening.... that really helped," you whispered. "I... if you ever want to..."

Hongjoong wondered for a moment. Did he want to talk about it?

Yes, but...

"Honestly, I am not sure if I am really ready yet to talk about it but one day... I will," he promised and placed a gentle kiss on top of your head.

"How about I make you some tea?" he offered with a smile as you looked at him, you nodded and you two slowly sat up. Hongjoong was very determined to wrap you properly in a blanket burrito, ruffling your hair gently before moving over to your kitchen. He could feel your eyes on him as he moved but he did not mind it.

A few minutes later, he handed you a cup of yasmin tea and you hugged it carefully, sipping on it.

"You make a very cute blanket cat," he teased, hoping to cheer you up. "Maybe one day, you will let me draw you like that." And finally, there it was, your beautiful laugh. "I will think about it."

Hongjoong sat down by your side, he turned on the TV and you relaxed against him as you watched a random show just to get your mind off and sipped your tea. It wasn't until there was a more gentle knock on the door and the familiar voice of the elderly lady.

"I will get it," he offered and rushed over. She seemed a little concerned: "My, so much noise in the early morning. Such an unpleasant woman. I wanted to see if everything is alright but I also noted, that your door is wide open Mister Kim."

His cheeks flushed as he realized, he rushed out earlier without bringing his key or closing it. "OH! Yes, thank you so much," he bowed and it made her chuckle: "You are very welcome. Fear not, Mister Corner on the second floor left his dog outside, I have no doubt nobody will dare to make the way upstairs today."

As she wiggled away, Hongjoong turned around but you smiled. "It is okay, I am feeling better. Thank you for looking out for me. I will see you later?"

He did not want to go but it likely was a good idea to give you some space. "Count on it."

As much as he hated it, he needed to put some time into work if he intended to finish everything within the deadline but now that Hongjoong had a reason to work extra hard, he was doing it no problem and within a few hours, he finished a few sketches. Those would do for angry CEO and he could dedicate his evening toward you.

He was taking his phone from his charger when he noticed a small notification. Hongjoong turned off such with the exception of receiving one when somebody new followed him. To his surprise, the name of his latest follower was 'Hwastar' and there was only one person who would use something like that.

It took him a few minutes to remember his password, he ignored all other messages other than the one of the follow and he followed back. Within a few minutes, a message popped up. It really was Seonghwa and to Hongjoong's surprise, the man was in New York, asking to meet.

When Hongjoong knocked on your door and you did not answer, he guessed you were asleep and he decided to go for it. Seonghwa had picked a cute coffee shop, something that suited him. While he looked the same, he was yet a whole new man. Tall, well-built and stylish, the long hair suited him well but the smile was as gentle as when they saw each other for the last time. "Joong! It's been too long!"

There was a quick hug before they sat down, he was sipping on a drink. "You look good, Joongie!" Hongjoong glanced down, he barely could say he wore anything unique but then, he just really had gotten used to his style. "Not like you who seems to go to fashion week."

Seonghwa blushed a little before waving his hand: "Nah, I work for a small publisher." Hongjoong wasn't surprised to hear it. Seonghwa always loved to read and was great with all kinds of people "That's great! I am glad it worked out for you."

His old friend smiled before to the younger's surprise, he pulled out one of the children's books Hongjoong worked on as part of a team.

"I only recently moved to New York because we moved our office here. When I walked through some bookstores, I came across this one. I am glad to see you still do art... When I went home last time, my mom said you left and nobody really knew where you went."

So he did hear about it, huh?

"Breakups can be ugly, I guess I wanted to start over." Hongjoong finally said what he had not to anyone until now. It was hard to say it out loud because that way, there was no chance to deny it, to hide the truth about the why, and how it had come to this. Maybe because there was this old trust he had for Hwa that made him say it out loud now but it was impossible to hide the bitterness in his voice.

Seonghwa had an understanding, sad smile on his lips: "I know you loved her. You two already dated back then... but Hongjoong... I am also proud you are moving on, and didn't stop."

It really was difficult to let negative emotions take over when Seonghwa looked at him like that. He pulled out his business card: "I know you are currently working with a bigger name but we actually finally expanded to books that require some illustrations and my boss would love to meet you. Why don't you think about it? The offer is there, no expiration, whenever you want."

Hongjoong accepted it with surprise, looking at the cursive font he was sure was inspired by his friend's handwriting.

How did things finally fall in line? Was it because he was ready to let them?

Hongjoong looked up and smiled: "I will definitely call."

When he came back, it had gotten dark. As Hongjoong took the fire escape up, your window was wide open and you sat on the stairs, the wind playing with your hair and you seemed lost in thoughts but the moment you saw him, the way you smiled, he knew.

His heart finally exhaled, it held its breath for so long, scared of what would happen if it let go of all that was and no longer would be.

Now it knew it was okay. Breathing would hurt for a little while but eventually, the beat would fall back in line as it should. Painful memories remained but it would keep beating.

The wisdom wasn't wrong, life went on.

Hongjoong smiled back as you made space for him and he got comfortable, his gaze wandering over the cityscape of New York or the bit you managed to get from here.

"it really is ugly, isn't it? I mean, all we get to see are the lower side of those giant ass buildings;" you joked and he laughed, shaking his head: "No, we do not but we have the rooftop. Not that I mind this."

He closed his eyes: "It really is a great escape, I would say, we need those stairs everywhere in the world."

You hummed: "I agree. Just that we need little stickers on the windows, one that tells us that if the alarm won't go off and the windows open, just throw a shoe or something."

Hongjoong smiled innocently at you: "But how do I get my shoe back then?"

You grinned: "Well, by knocking, of course. Then, I have an excuse to invite you in."

You did not need an excuse, he gladly would come and visit you. As you looked at each other, a certain silence spread, and Hongjoong played with one of his bracelets.

"I got my heart broken very badly," he admitted. "I guess, I was blind? Maybe I just was so in a habit of having it that way, that I did not think it could change? It hurt a lot and I ran like a coward but now, maybe this is just how I am. Sometimes, I do stupid things that turn out to be good but I am also blind like needing forever to realize how I made friends just by being myself or that I can feel again."

As he looked at you, turning around, you suddenly hugged him tightly. "It is okay, you do not have to tell me everything, ever or just take your time. I will be here, whenever you are ready," you whispered and Hongjoong was surprised.

Argh, he hated how tears started to dwell up at the corners of his eyes. This was all he wanted for so long but now, here you were and you were so much more than comfort, the promise of a future where his heart was beating not only to live but love. Again.

"I really like you," he admitted, voice soft and husky. "I like you too," you repeated and for a moment, you just held each other.

Hongjoong looked at you before he swallowed: "I'd like to see where it goes... but I might... need a bit of time before I am ready to go all ..."

You placed an index finger on his lips and smiled: "It's okay. We have all the time in the world. Summer is not over yet, many nights on the rooftops. Then, when autumn comes, we go chase leaves in Central Park, and in Winter, we can wear big fluffy coats and share a scarf. Then Spring, we plant flowers on the rooftop, and when Summer comes again. We will be here, together. Close or as friends, I will be here, count on it."

You really were so dreamy, it made sense now why your room looked the way it did.

And he loved how you were bold and silly and this.

"I cannot promise not to be spontaneous, and I might would like us to be more than friends," he admitted and you smirked: "I love random and wild."

You squeezed his hand and Hongjoong was looking forward to all seasons. In this lonely city full of people but now he had friends, old and new but most of all, you.

As you leaned in to kiss him, your alarm was going off. Hongjoong groaned but you tugged on his jacket.

"Sh, you can throw shampoo at it later," you promised and Hongjoong laughed.

"This alarm, it drives me insane," he whispered, your lips so close.

"So do you."

In the best way possible.

[shuaflix]

driving lessons for dummies (preview)

PAIRING ▸ kwon soonyoung x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, humor (i am bringing back romcoms), smut, strangers to lovers au, college au (WHO GUESSED IT)

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, so much pining, mc has the worst luck imaginable, soonyoung is down horrendous, he is also an olivia rodrigo stan, there is a minor car crash, there is also a very minor description of blood, almost car sex at some point, probably sex that is not in a motor vehicle at some other point if plot allows, pet names (but not in the sexy genre sorry), friend group shenanigans (ft. mingyu, seungcheol, jihoon, junhui) bc im a my little pony friendship is magic type bitch, and other warnings tba bc i haven't finished writing

SUMMARY ▸ you've finally passed your written test and gotten your permit after six failed attempts. eager to get your license while attempting to avoid overpriced driving lessons, you enlist the help of kwon soonyoung, who only requires a STIIZY pod as payment.

RELEASE DATE ▸ out now!

WORD COUNT ▸ around 12k (hopefully......)

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i was actually very on the fence about who this fic should be for at first, but...... it was destined to be for hoshi :') also this preview is kinda short because there's so much i don't want to spoil! anywho send an ask or comment to be added to the tag list !! ♡

KWON SOONYOUNG.

Junhui sent you his number after he dropped you off at your apartment. Apparently, Soonyoung was one of his good friends, who also happened to have a side gig where he gave out driving lessons at a discounted price. Of course, the downside was that Soonyoung wasn’t exactly certified to teach people how to drive, but he was allegedly a good driver.

His lessons were normally for high schoolers, and he charged their parents around a hundred. For adults over the age of 21, though, he had a special offer that you couldn’t resist. 

You texted him to ask if he had any open spots for you. He took a few days to reply, but you eventually got a two-hour slot for the next week. You weren’t sure how effective his lessons would be, but you figured you would give it a shot since he was your age and giving out classes for cheap. 

When the day of your lessons rolled around, you were slightly anxious while you were waiting for him to arrive. You needed Junhui to reassure you for hours last night, promising that no, Soonyoung was not going to kidnap and murder you. He was a student at your university, actually, and he was a public health major who never had a murderous thought in his life.

soonyoung (driving instructor): i’m outside your house 

Okay, if he wasn’t a murderer, then the least he could do was not text you like one.  

After replying with an omw that autocorrected to On my way! and left you feeling very distressed that your communication sounded overly-enthusiastic, you worked up the courage to walk outside to his Honda Accord. 

“Hi,” you greeted shyly when you opened the door. “You’re Soonyoung, right?” 

Honestly, you didn’t care if he was Soonyoung or not. The man sitting in the driver’s seat was probably one of the most attractive people you had ever laid eyes on. Even if he wasn’t Kwon Soonyoung, you would happily let him kidnap you. Maybe you’d even blush a little because he picked you of all people to kidnap. 

He turned to look at you, seeming a little surprised that you opened the door but smiling nevertheless. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re Y/N?” 

When you nodded, he got out of the driver’s seat and motioned for you to take it. You skirted around the car to sit inside while Soonyoung took the passenger’s seat. 

You also got a glance of his off-brand, beige Fear of God Essentials sweater that read M.I.L.F. Hunter instead. Classy. 

“So, you came to me because you didn’t wanna give up your semester’s worth of college tuition for driving lessons,” Soonyoung said with an overwhelming air of confidence. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” You huffed. “Here, I heard this was your payment.”

You handed him a paper bag, not bothering to take out the receipt from the dispensary. Inside was the King Louis XIII STIIZY pod. One gram. 

“Ah, good. You know your stuff.”

Soonyoung hummed as he examined the box, and you were just wondering when he would get to business and start showing you the controls in his car. You were slightly overwhelmed by his impressively relaxed demeanor. Maybe it would have been better if you settled for an uptight woman in her sixties. Pretty boys were always trouble. 

“You made the right choice coming to me. I’m a much better driver than those hags from the driving schools around here,” he continued. It was like he could read your mind; it was almost terrifying. “Plus, way less likely that I’ll get a heart attack in the passenger’s seat.” 

He was a total weirdo, but he was hot, so you supposed it canceled out in some obscure, mathematical sense. 

"That’s… good to hear, I think,” you replied. “So, are you, like, good at this?”

“Are you kidding? I’m basically the Lebron of driving.”

“I see.” You nodded along, unsure. “I don’t watch football, so…” 

“He plays basketball, but close enough.”

[blouisparadise]

Today we have a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis and/or Harry have popular jobs such as firefighter, flight attendance, florist, and mechanic. Since we get requests for rec lists with these particular jobs often, we decided to compile them into one list. We're marked each fic according to which job it features. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog the post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) December | Not Rated | 1,924 words | 💐

Magic happens here, in December.

2) Pilot | Teen & Up | 5,279 words | ✈️

“We have fifteen minutes.” Harry glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “How fast do you think my tongue can make you come?” Still against the wall, Louis felt a shiver run from the back of his neck down his spine. In three years walking on moving planes, he’d never had such zero control over his legs. At least not until now.

3) Your Apathy’s Like A Wound In Salt | Explicit | 5,312 words | 🛠️

“What a fucking ass!” Louis shifts his body so he’s completely facing away from the scene. “I asked him last night to fix my car and he said he would accept a payment in the form of me sucking his dick. I guess he’s really desperate, I can’t believe him.” Louis rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink in one go. Niall shakes his head and shrugs, “I told you to ask any other mechanic in town but you didn’t listen to me.” “Well, I didn’t think he would fucking say that now did I, Niall?” “Louis,” Paige rests a manicured hand on his shoulder, “So, you’re saying you still wouldn’t hit it?” “My ex?” She nods. “Yeah, I’d still hit that. Except this time it would be with a car or a baseball bat.” Suddenly, Niall spits out his beer all over the table as Paige bursts out laughing. “Fucking ruthless, you are.” Niall runs a hand through his styled hair.

4) Oil and Lube | Explicit | 5,552 words | 🛠️

The one where Harry's a car mechanic and Louis' engine can't seem to stop revving around him.

5) A Place To Call Home | Mature | 8,113 words | 💐

The thing is, he’s pretty sure he’s found home in a person in his life, someone who’s been essential in everything he’s done since he was seven years old. Through every broken bone, through every breakup, through every failure; through every triumph, personal and professional, and every goal he has scored in his time in Man U, there’s been someone there for it all.  That’s his best mate. Harry. A twenty-two year old with the kindest heart known to man, a slow drawl that is entirely too endearing, with the dreams to open up his own flower shop. A quiet and earnest boy with those he doesn’t know, and open and honest and absolutely lovely with those he loves.  It all hits him, really, the night of their final game of the Premier League. Again, timing is not his forté. They’re gearing up, ready to hit the field for the second half against Liverpool that determines their ranking in the League, when his brain decides to come online (after seventeen years, apparently), and conveniently supply him with the revelation that oh yeah, you’re kind of in love with your best friend.

6) If This Room Was Burning | Explicit | 8,629 words | 🔥

Where Louis’ cat gets stuck on the roof and Harry is the firefighter who ends up saving her.

7) Decorated Emergency | Not Rated | 10,359 words | 🔥

So what if they kissed once. It was the end of a shift that had seemed to drag on for twelve days instead of twelve hours. Their doctor was slow and felt the need to transfer every single patient, putting more work on every member of staff. Harry was stressed. Louis was the one who crowded him up against the door in the break room. It was Louis' fault, he was always pulling shit.

8) Taking The Long Way Home | Mature | 12,499 words | 🛠️

Coming home from the beach, Louis' car breaks down and he has to call mechanic Harry.

9) Bloom | Explicit | 24,887 words | 💐

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry tucks the flower into the top pocket of Louis’ jacket, patting over his heart just once. “What is it?” Louis asks, eyeing the sunny little yellow flower, a bit like a buttercup, “It’s lovely.” Harry pushes a piece of hair behind his ear and smiles, “It’s a primrose. I got them in this morning, reminded me of you.”

10) A Trail Of Honey Through It All | Explicit | 27,083 words | 🛠️

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

11) A Hungry Heart | Explicit | 27,601 words | 💐

Harry Styles, florist and Great British Bake Off contestant, loves many things. He loves his flower shop, he loves baking, and there’s also that little crush he has on pop star Louis Tomlinson. But when Louis arrives on set as the surprise guest judge, Harry’s worlds collide. Throw in a cup of cuteness, a teaspoon of teasing, and a pinch of pining, and there’s all the ingredients for an epic love story, or absolute chaos.

12) Tangled Up And Blue | Explicit | 30,159 words | 🛠️

Kai just shakes his head, making his way down the small batch of stairs with a hop in his step. “Have fun on your weird adult date.” Harry sighs. “It’s not a date.” “Dad, you already have him in your bed most nights,” Kai sings, walking backwards towards Louis’ car with an insufferable smirk on his face. “It’s not looking too good for you,” he shrugs, hands curled around the straps of his backpack.

13) You Wish I Was Yours And I Hope That You’re Mine | Not Rated | 31,259 words | 💐

“What did you wish for?” Harry blushes, “If I tell you it won’t come true…” Louis sits straight again, a cute little determined look forming on his face, “I wished that a certain curly ‘aired boy would take me on more dates because I ‘ad such a good time on this one. And that’s going to come true, isn’t it?” “Of course,” Harry nearly splutters. “Yeah, yeah definitely.” “See?” Louis grins smugly. “Now I told you mine and it’s still going to come true, so will you tell me yours?” Their wishes were different though, because whereas Louis’ wish was cute and endearing, Harry found his own wish rather embarrassing. But he can’t lie to Louis, nor can he say no to Louis, so he sucks in a shaky breath of air before he speaks softly, “I wished that I was brave enough to kiss you…”

14) Stay Until Tomorrow | Explicit | 36,766 words | 🛠️

There’s a dull ache seeping through Louis’ body as he wakes up; a mild headache from last night’s alcohol intake, a cramp in his right arm from sleeping on it weird and a familiar soreness between his arse cheeks that Louis fully blames on his lousy one night stand.

15) One Heart Broke, Four Hands Bloody | Explicit | 47,429 words | 💐

Louis’ life is really fucking dull until one day he happens upon the scene of a crime, as said crime is happening. A murderer with big hands and a charming smile somehow manages to change his life for the better.

16) Once Burnt, Twice Shy | Explicit | 52,644 words | 🔥

Louis and Harry are polar opposites in every way. Where Louis is a bestselling author from the city, Harry is a small-town firefighter who’s never left his home. Where Louis is spontaneous and spirited, Harry is introverted and calm, never straying from routine. When an ill-fated accident and an exceptionally intelligent tabby bring them together, they are forced to confront their pasts and forge a better beginning for themselves. Will sparks fly, or will it all go up in flames?

17) No Going Back | Explicit | 56,102 words | 🛠️

Sales reps Harry and Louis are bored with their jobs and their lives. After meeting at a conference in Cardiff they hook up, have a few too many drinks, and jokingly apply to become remote lighthouse keepers. Six months, just the two of them, looking after the southernmost lighthouse off the bottom of Australia. It’s not like their applications will be accepted. Right? This is the story of how one choice - a left instead of a right, a go instead of a stop, a yes instead of a no - can change the future forever and that sometimes, taking that leap of faith, is worth the risk.

18) Between The Sand and Stars | Explicit | 63,128 words | ✈️

When an earthquake strands flight attendant Louis Tomlinson on a tropical island, he’s got paradise at his fingertips - miles of sunny beaches, immersion in vibrant culture, and a beautiful seaside mansion to enjoy. Unfortunately, it belongs to the egotistical musician Harry Styles, whose incorrigible management can do little to hinder his playboy complex. Despite Louis and Harry’s abhorrent first impression, contrasting backgrounds, and tendency to bicker every time they speak, who says opposites can’t attract? Them, of course, because they hate each other … right?

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[thetxtdevil]

The Haunted House

~Chapter 2~

Ghost Beomgyu x You x Ghost Taehyun

summary: After you were knocked out cold from a ghost its time to meet the ghosts.

content: paranormal themes, death, ghost.beomgyu, ghost.taehyun, human/medium reader, flashback, some suggestive themes

word count: 2.1k

Chapter: 1 <- 2 -> 3 -> ...

The cloudy day made a cool filter cast in your room making the color of your skin look unnaturally like death. A man sits at the end of your bed looking over your body adorned with soft curves that seem so lovely to touch if only he’d let himself. You were under the covers, your chest rising and falling as you lightly breathed in your sleep. The ghostly man studies the soft movements forgetting the feeling of air rushing through one’s nose and how peaceful slumber felt. Sudden nostalgic memories fill his head back to the days of his wealthy playboy life, dainty hands of maidens roaming through his body, the rough kisses that made girls squeal only to fall desperate as he leaves them in bed afterward to go back to work. The ghost was swept from his thoughts when the bedroom door creaked open.

“You didn’t have to knock her out like that you know,” The other man says from the doorway with a cup of water and places it on your nightstand.

“I’ll let her take our house and do anything with it but not my study, Beomgyu”

“Whatever Tae, we should treat her like a princess since she saved our home,” Beomgyu says as he lies on the bed cuddling next to you. Your slight shivers soon dissipate when Beomgyu’s ghostly warmth envelops you.

Taehyun, the colder ghost, nods at Beomgyu’s statement, that it was true that they needed to thank you for keeping their location as is. They had to haunt the construction workers who eyed up their property. Their creepy ways worked but they didn’t know how long it would last, nor did they know what would happen to them if the house was destroyed. The two ghosts were allowed to walk the property but once they stepped foot out away from the iron fence they were transported to a dark void that could send a mind into madness, even the dead mind.

❈❈❈

The good ol’ Jazz age, the Roaring 20s, when streets were alive with Model Ts, women fighting for their rights, while men in fedoras were rushing to go to work. Gangsters and wealthy men ran the cities more than the mayors did. Everybody said that they were sober because of the prohibition but in reality, they were all at bars the night before. What a great time to be alive for men, especially for successful good-looking men.

Kang Taehyun founded and ran a well-known factory for building cars, his cold exterior was always seen watching over the workers laboring over the machines. He was a calm boss, he never would abuse or make a scene in front of the employees, but fear struck them all because if they did the company wrong Mr. Kang would fire them without notice. All he asks of his workers is to get to work on time, eat promptly, actually do work, and never and I mean never question why random women get invited to his office and where his whiskey stash is.

Taehyun’s roommate Beomgyu, however, wasn’t as stuck up. Beomgyu was a profound author of classic literature. He would go to many social gatherings to advertise his works. He was always out and about being a casual flirt but in reality, he’d rather be at home writing and leaving his thoughts on paper.

Now they would never admit that they were childhood best friends and roommates because that seemed soft for their masculine appearance. They thought saving a little coin and half their payment for a house was smarter and more convenient. Plus they can join speakeasies together and share with women it's a win-win for them. Life was good, outstanding even for them, until one unlucky night a big thunderstorm looms over the city. Home radios advised people to stay safe in their homes, but who would listen when the city still needed to stay alive?

That stormy night two of the men were of course not in the safety of their home. The rain clouds hid the evening’s sunset, all dark grays were surrounding the dim lamps of the streets. Beomgyu was on his way to his book release when a flash of a piercing strike hit, making the car go to a complete stop. On the other side of town, Taehyun stayed in the factory after hours to do money management. The factory was quiet which calmed his mind, walking into his office he stopped to look at the rushing raindrops crashing against the window’s glass. Thunder echoes and before he can blink lightning strikes the window shattering the glass.

Taehyun opened his eyes to realize that he was in his study in the house. He straightens his head from lying on the desk rolling his head back and stretching his neck that usually would’ve been sore. Taehyun looked around confused as to how he got to his study, it was normal for him to fall asleep on the desk but he could’ve sworn he wasn’t there recently. He lowers his eyes to see that he is also still in his daytime clothes. Taehyun stands up and takes off his blazer setting it down to notice it fade into nothing, he jumps at the particular event, maybe I had too many drinks last night. A shadow catches Tae’s peripheral making him look over at the window, where he sees Beomgyu in the garden wandering cluelessly. As he gets closer to the window vision pops into his head of him on the ground with the many shards of glass within his skin, stinging with every raindrop that hits him. Taehyun blinks out of the vision looking back at the other man he plans to go outside to join Beomgyu to open his eyes and see that he is already there.

“Tae?” Beomgyu asks with worry filling his eyes. Taehyun couldn’t speak, he didn’t know what to say because he was as confused as Gyu. “Shit! I-i’m going to be late to my book release.” 

Beomgyu ran towards the iron fence heading for the car the longer he stared at the vehicle he got the vision of him sitting in the driver's seat that was inflamed. Beomgyu stops in his tracks not because of the vision but because he is out of the property’s range. Tae could only see his lifeless figure standing on the pavement while Gyu saw the worse. He couldn’t tell if his eyes were closed or not the world was pitch black, the longer he was engulfed in the darkness the more his breathless breathing felt heavy, and his worries were boldened they hurt like immense depression. A grip on his shoulder pulls Gyu back to reality, or at least out of the dark depths.

“Hey, are you alright,” Taehyun asks looking over the man for anything wrong.

Beomgyu looks back at the car past the iron fence, every blink he makes images of lightning hitting him making him realize something, “I think we're not alive.”

❈❈❈

Taehyun stares at Beomgyu cuddling you, head in the crook of your neck which you were unconsciously giving into. The specter life hasn’t been nice for Beomgyu, he had no inspiration for writing, and no signs of life to entertain, so Tae couldn’t bring himself to stop Gyu from advancing on you. The look on his face was pure happiness when he saw you walking through the house doors for the first time. The real estate agent tried a few times with others before but they could never get past the front door. He was the one helping you the most with fixing the house, from helping you pick the color of the walls, to ripping out of the old wood, he even made a deal with the bugs under the house, you always wondered why your clean pristine neighbor suddenly got cockroach-infested. 

Your phone screen lights up with a notification catching Taehyun’s attention, over time as a ghost he has studied life beyond the property and has learned the modern slang and the new obsession with smartphones, so he wasn’t unfamiliar with the object.

Leaving the bed to glance at the notification “She needs to go to work soon.”

“Wake up sweetheart,” Beomgyu says as his nose grazes your ear and his grip on your waist tighter only to make you instinctively shift closer into his warmth still in deep slumber.

“That’s not going to work,” Tae admits the obvious. He sees the water glass Beomgyu placed earlier he brings it up in the air to drop it. 

The sharp sound of broken glass fills your ears awakening you. You look around to an empty room and then to the pile of broken glass with water surrounding it. You groan at the mess only to forget about it once you see the time.

“Dammit, I’m going to be late.”

❈❈❈

The front door creaks open revealing a monstrous figure, you. Eye hung low with deep dark bags, navy blue scrubs tarnished with many different bodily fluids. Your shoulders hurt from all the caring, your arms ached from the resuscitation, legs felt numb from standing all 12 hours long. You walk like a zombie towards the couch, flopping on the cushions you rub your eyes trying not instantly to fall asleep. Then a familiar warmth coats you and a breathly voice calls out “relax.”

Eyes bulging out of your head you stare at an empty room but the voice seems so real and close. Sitting there confused you jump at the disturbing sounds of cabinets opening and slamming shut, pots and pans clinking together. You had enough, you could deal with dust bunnies and the opening of doors but you could not stand the haunting of loud noises, glass shards waking you up, and the constant faint chatter. You abruptly get up to go to the study, the boys in the kitchen look at each other confused as to what you are about to do. Following, they watch you search for a specific book, Tae searches for books for you dropping them on the ground to get your attention. 

“What does she want, Romeo & Juliet? The Odessey?”

“No no no, where’s that tarot card book it should be near that,” you say to yourself and a little hope that the ghost can hear you. Your index finger scans the titled backs of the books and then taps one with a promising title. Flipping through the book of black magic you multitask reading and grabbing the candles on the desk. 

The house became dark during your search, clouds rolling in covering the evening’s beauty. Rushing to the dim living room, the only light came from the melting candles. Taehyun and Beomgyu stand in front of you putting pieces together as to what is about to happen. Criss-cross on the thin rug, the book slapped out surrounded by two candles and the two pictures of the men you took from the fireplace mantle. Slowly and poorly reading out loud the Latin words written in the book. Candle lights flicker, the fireplace begins to spark, and booming thunder shakes the house. You try again and again until you memorize the words closing your eyes and trying to reach any sign of the afterlife with you. A clash of thunder makes you jump out of your focus, lightning flashes on your face you look around seeing dust particles moving slowly around you. Your arm hair stands up when you notice the pictures of the men beginning to fade. You begin to fret thinking you erased them only to jump back by a burst of fire.

A strange sight before you on the left side there was a controlled flame that felt like it was burning your face, while on the right side, it looked like the roof was leaking. Soon both sides of the elements disparate creating two tall humanoid figures. Your eyes lit up recognizing their faces, the slightly taller ones defined features softened as they smiled at you, the other man’s sharp eyes slightly widened realizing that you could see them.

“So you must be the cold ghost,” you say while pointing at the designated specter, “and you must be the hot ghost”

“Why thank you, my lady, but you can call me Beomgyu.”

“No that’s not,” you shake your head realizing your mistake of words, “You’re the one that makes me hot”

“Oh?” Beomgyu quirks his eyebrow making Taehyun grin at the both of you.

“Wait ugh you know what I meant,” standing up to be at the same level as the ghost you reach your hand out to greet them. You didn’t know what to do or expect when materializing spirits, but your heart rate rose when you were able to touch them and feel their distinct temperature.

-> Chapter 3

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[narcissarina]

Darkened Desires

Prologue and Chapter 1: The sun || Chapter 2: The moon || Chapter 3: The moon || Chapter 4: The sun || Chapter 5: The sun

Pairings: Mafia!Scaramouche × Barista!Reader

Word count: 1,373

Tw: praise kink, degradation, kidnapping, tourture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, gore, deaths, age-gap, corruption, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, mentions of human trafficking on the near chapters, slowburn.

Warning: This fanfiction may contain kidnapping, torture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, age-gap, corruption, vigilante Scaramouche, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, and more. This fiction will continue grow darker as chapters goes by.

Your mental health matters.

CHAPTER 6:

THE MOON

I took her to a familiar flower shop, base on her files—I coincidentally made her meet up a friend, I watch her laugh, smile, and tease around with her friend. I get constant glance from her friend, who seems to be suspecting something but didn’t say anything.

I could only smile, not just an ordinary friendly smile. I smiled with intent of possible murder, dark and twisted smile that gave her friend a shudder.

Funny enough, I could stand for a minute or so until a figure I caught in my eye stood out, they were rushing and sweating, a boner in his pants as he disappeared in the alley across the road.

I lean down to my sunshine to excuse myself, she could only nod and hum timidly, fuck. How I could just fucked her in the car right here and there, but patience is virtue right?

Left and right, I look at passing motorcycles and cars as I made my way down the road. I rush a little, not wanting him to get out of my sight, I turn left and saw him went through that door. I took my gun out, held it firmly in between my fingers, my other hand on the knob—turning it and using my body to rush in.

It was dim, but not too dark.

“Hands up and on your fucking knees!” I said, wow. I sounded like a shitting police officer—I am not doing that again. And it fucking smells here, as if someone just got done emptying their balls.

Of course, fucking sickos.

I shot the ground, the sound ringing in every corner of this room. I see a girl whimpering from pain as a grown ass man was gripping the poor girls hair tightly, “let go of her,” I said, pointing and threatening to shoot.

He listens and the girl came running at me, “good boy,” I shot him. Right in the leg while covering the girls ear and hugging her tightly close to me, “fucker.” I curse and turn to the girl, I heard the man scream—calling a backup huh? I hear footsteps come running down, I put the girl outside and held her shoulder, “hey, little girl. Run and take a right, go to the lady that’s sitting on the flower shop. She’ll help you, and tell the guards that’s stand behind her that I need help. Can you do that?” I spoke in a soft warm tone.

She nodded and gave a quick hug, “thank you, mister.” She said, poor girl. “The big bad man hasn’t touch you nor harm you right?” I quickly asked, just to be sure because I’ll hurt him back. She nodded, “just pulled my hair..” she said and told her to go now, that was all I need to fucking know. I’m going to have fun fucking this bastards up.

“H-Hey!” someone shouted, holding a baseball bat, I turn when I’m assured that the girl finally ran and disappeared out of my sight—knowing that she’ll be safe in my sunshine’s arms and guidance.

Gun in hand, I smiled, “what’s up gentlemen?”

“Don’t get involve here, don’t think you know us!”

“But I do… Know you.” I point my gun to him, as I whisper those two words, that I know them. Although I plan on fucking them up later, I never thought I would have a last minute change of plan. How laughable.

I should make this quick, and I hope those guards hurry up or else I’m not giving their payment. Don’t want to worry my sunshine.

He started running after me as I quickly shot him in his knee perfectly, he yelled in pain, “what you all standing there?! Get him!” he yelled, I could only scoff at how weak they are. Not to mention they’re a little taller and intimidating than me, while I’m only a few inches shorter and a baby faced… I want to burst out and laugh at how pathetic their attempts are.

This is getting annoying, earlier I was having fun fucking them up but they keep on coming, not accepting defeat—how much I fucking wanted to put a bullet on their fucking shitty head. All of them on the ground, his team unconscious and knocked out cold, no I didn’t used force. Why is that? Because I knew she’ll call the cops, I’ll make sure to put a bullet in each of their head when they’re in prison.

I sigh and groan, mother fucker manage to stab me right on the abdomen. Taking deep breaths as I make my way to that pedophile that’s been with the poor girl, I crouch down and position my gun in his head, he whimper and cries—pleading for his life.

“Aren’t you the one who abuse your wife? Instead of pleasure, you bruise her and cause her great pain in intercourse, where you only think of your fucking dick.” I said, pushing my gun harder into his face till it bruises, “y-yes, yes! That’s me, if saying this would make you have mercy at me then I confess!” he said, I click my tongue, my finger threatening to pull the fucking trigger.

“Who said that I’m going to let you go?”

Bang—

“Sir! Sir!” one of my guards called, they entered the room—rushing and sweating, “you’re all late.” I said, they bow and apologize repeatedly, I stood up and held my stabbed abdomen. One of them went pale and starts to panic.

“I can still walk, no need to carry me.” I assure in advance, clothes bloody and filled with sweat. Each walk I softly groan until I finally see the light—my light. She was talking to the police and the girl was clinging to him. She’ll be a great mother, I knew that—why? She’ll b filled with my children and she’ll be the one carrying them for nine fucking months.

She noticed and went pale when she saw that I got hurt fighting off those pedophiles and abusers, the guards help me cross the road and sat me down to the chair.

The police were horrified on what they saw and immediately took action and went to the alley where I beat and knock them all up—well, except for that one man who I put a bullet in his head.

“Let’s take you to the nearest hospital, sir.” One of the officer said, inspecting my wound.

“It’s just a stab, it’ll be fine.” I sarcastically remarked and rolled my eyes, my gaze went to the girl and smiled at her. She started crying and flew into my arms, “hey there.”

She kept apologizing again and again, “It’s not your fault”

“but you got hurt.” She sniffs.

“if getting hurt means saving you, then I’ll do it over and over again.” I pat her head and turn to the police officer, “you know where her parents are?”

They nodded and said that they’ll be right here, rushing.

I look at her, her eyes filled with pity and anger. She’s so cute, I could burst and have her kneel to suck my dick. But I can’t, I’m injured too, maybe I could make her nurse me.

The thought made me smile a little wickedly.

Yeah, it’ll be fun.

So fun that I didn’t noticed the girls parents, they thanked me for saving their daughter and they waved goodbye—before leaving, the girl looked back at me once again before driving off to her home. Where she is finally safe and with her family.

“you look kinda familiar.” One of the medic said, I raise a brow and smiled at him. “Oh?” I snicker, “aren’t you a mafia?” my heart sank but I kept a straight smiling safe, “now that remark wound me, sir. How could I possibly a mafia?” I asked, sunshine is just beside me—piercing me with her stare.

“quit it, John. Can’t you see the poor man injured? Not to mention he saved a little girl and five abused women in that house.” One officer smack him at the back of his head, “sorry. I hope I didn’t offend.”

“none taken.” I smiled and look at sunshine.

“Are you mad?”

“fuck you.”

“love you too, sweetheart.”

Link:

Chapter 7: THE MOON

[oceantornadoo]

protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in *gender neutral version*

“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your backpack. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.

“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.

“‘ello?”

“si- simon, it’s me.”

“i know, love. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.

“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.

“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”

9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.

suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.

“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, backpack strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.

twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.

“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.

“you win.”

fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.

“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.

“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”

“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.

“we’re not together anymore, simon.”

“you’re still mine.”

silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of shorts. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.

“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.

“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.

“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.

—

someone requested gender neutral so i hope i did you justice! i consider dove, love, lovie, and baby to be gn so i didn’t change them if you were wondering

[bellasprettywords]

Ok, i totally understand that you get a lot of requests but i literally couldn’t live without asking…Could you do a part two to the spencer reid loml fic where he goes to san francisco and makes up with the reader? Tysm 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

(btw so high school is my fav fic ever i love it sm)

Hi love!! Thank you so so so much for your kind words; I hope this is to your liking, because I wanted to keep the angsty mood long enough to answer the questions from the first part; but ending with a little fluff

Btw, I have a pendidng Hotch request I'm currently working on, so I wanted to remind you that requests are always open🥰

y/n – your name

Warnings: A little angst, bad words and just Sad Boy Spence with a sprinkle of fluff at the end

Word count: 6,395 (is bc there are emojis)

My Masterlist

Almost a month had gone by since you left the BAU in Quantico; and even if you tried to see the bright side of things, since Spencer had called off your engagement, life felt like walking around with a hole pierced where your heart used to be. Although, it is important to note, things for Spencer weren’t much better on the other side of the country.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Reid, but I think you should really consider taking some time off work” Emily told Spencer as they were exiting the jet recently landed jet

“I’m alright Prentiss, what happened in the field won’t happen ever again” Spencer scoffed, almost sounding petulant, and exhausted after days with little to no sleep and a complicated case that took an enormous toll on him

“This is not a question Reid, you put your life, the victim’s and your team’s life on the line for what? Because you had a hunch? I’m sorry but in this line of work you can’t just risk it all just because you think so, and you should know that, specially by now” Emily replied, this time with a firm tone that send a shiver trough Spencer’s back; he knew Emily was right, but he really couldn’t admit it, even to himself, that the past month had been hell on earth without you

“I… I’m sorry, I was so sure I could catch the unsub” Spencer tried arguing, but he knew no matter what he said, Emily was right, his head wasn’t in the right place and he ended up jeopardizing the case, and almost letting the unsub walk freely

“I’ll take advantage of the gunshot you received to have you on medical leave for at least two weeks, and hopefully when you come back, your head is clear and you’ll stop doing rookie mistakes” Emily said, trying her best to gift Spencer a compassionate smile

“Alright boss, see you in a fortnight” Spencer said, with a forced smile carrying his go bag, ready to go home; except that, home wasn’t home anymore. “Home” was room 313 of a crappy hotel; even if the mortgage payments for the apartment you two used to share were currently being taken off his bank account. Spencer Reid did not have the heart to step into the apartment he had impulsively bought hoping you’d come back to him.

When Spencer thought about coming home, all he could think about was coming back to you. Your soft embrace, your sparkling eyes, and the way you had to make life better just by being present. Until this day, Spencer could not understand, nor explain, the effect you had on people: you were like a ray of sunlight after a week of rain; whenever he thought of you, he got the same excitement you get when the first flowers of the spring start blooming. Even if he wanted to be stubborn and hold on to his decision of breaking off the engagement, it took every fiber of his being to not drive his car all the way to San Francisco to get you back. But then again, his logical side kicked in and reminded him of all the reasons you couldn’t be together:

He was way older than you, Spencer Reid was convinced that the eight-year difference would take a toll on the relationship, sooner or later

He knew schizophrenia was almost likely to be hereditary, and he didn’t want to put you thought the hell he lived with his mom when he was younger

Your career was just taking off at the FBI, while his was somehow was marked permanently by his time in prison and more than a couple of disciplinary issues; and he wanted nothing to do with your reputation being stained by associating with him

While you were a hell of a profiler, after years at the BAU he knew what the job could do to you, and he did not want to risk you losing your spark with all the trauma the job inflicted

Every single person he has ever loved ended up either death, kidnapped or extremely harmed by being close to him. This was a particularly painful reason, especially because he is not a man of faith, but sometimes, late at night Doctor Spencer Reid wonders if he’s somehow the victim of a prophecy, or a cruel joke of fate considering every single person he has ever loved suffers when they’re around him; and of course, he could not let you suffer, nor put you in any danger because of his ill luck

Sure, whenever he thought of these reasons he called bullshit on himself, but at the end of the day, the decision was made, and you were perfectly safe from him (and his curse) at the other side of the country.

Since the day he called off the engagement, Spencer felt that he was living his life in autopilot. Most of the time, he wasn’t even present at the moment because he was too immersed into his own head, spinning and replaying the dreadful day he broke your heart; which ended up with him making huge mistakes at work, and disappointing René Descartes: as he was not thinking.

Without even noticing, he arrived into his hotel room, sighted, and decided he was too tired to even eat, so he just went to bed.

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After a couple of days of bed rotting, Spencer received an unexpected knock on his hotel door, and it was his dear friend Penelope Garcia.

“How are we doing, boy genius?” the bubbly blonde asked as she came into the messy hotel room. Spencer was known to be a pretty organized person, some would even dare to say he had a small OCD, but from the state of this hotel room, Penelope was both perplexed and alarmed

“I guess you heard about my medical leave” Spencer said taking a seat on the bed with a voice that almost sounded like a grunt

“Yeah… I was pretty surprised when you didn’t show up to the jet, I mean, I knew the injury of the bullet you took in Arkansas wasn’t that devastating” she said, clearly nervous about the topic

“The bullet just grazed my shoulder, I really didn’t need the medical leave” Spencer scoffed rolling his eyes, “So why are you here? Prentiss send you to check up on me?” the young Doctor said facing his friend

“I was just… worried about you… I know… I know things have been difficult since y/n left Virginia” Penelope said, almost rambling, and worried that her words would shake up Spencer.

Everyone at the BAU, knew Spencer Reid was a yapper, nonetheless and since he came back from prison, it was like something inside Spencer died. He was still a genius who held on his mind almost every single piece of information he has ever read, or learn, but something was totally different. He stopped his rambles, he became more reserved, and he built these walls around him and his personal life. Of course, some of this changed when he was with you, once again he had opened up his heart to trust, and his old friends like García, Rossi, JJ, and Prentiss sometimes even felt like they could catch a glimpse of the old Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Spencer went back to his avoiding and reserved ways once you left the BAU; it almost seemed like you left, and took his heart with you.

“I’m alright, the wound is healing properly, and soon I’ll be back on the field” Spencer rushed to answer, avoiding commenting on you

“What’s wrong with you, Spence?” Penelope dared to ask directly seeing how avoidant he had been lately

“Nothing’s wrong, okay? Prentiss is just exaggerating, and that’s why she made me leave” Spencer said, rolling his eyes at his concerned friend

“You are one of my closest friends, I even dare to call you family Spence, and I know when something is wrong with my family” Penelope said taking a step closer to Spencer “I’ve been giving you your space with the whole y/n situation, I even refrained from asking the juicy details, but something is seriously wrong if you are running toward the unsubs, taking bullets just because, and pushing away the people who care about you” Penelope said, and Spencer realized how much of an ass he was being to his friends, but of course, he knew this was nowhere close to how much of an ass he had been towards you

“I fucked up” Spencer said with a strain of voice, as his eyes were covered by a soft mist of tears

“I know you did Spence, but you can make things better” Penelope said holding her friend in her arms as he silently cried over her shoulder

“y/n hates me… I… I screwed thing up and there’s no coming back from there” Spencer cried as Penelope streaked his hair reassuringly

“I’m sure y/n doesn’t hate you” she said after a pause “Whatever happened between the two of you was probably a misunderstanding that can be resolved” Penelope added with a string of hope on her voice. Nobody knew exactly what had gone on between the two of you; one day you were happily engaged, and the next Monday you had asked for your transfer to the other side of the country, with no explanation or goodbyes

“I… I got scared… I just love y/n so much I didn’t want to drag her down with me. I know I’m screwed up, and complicated to deal with… Also… It may sound stupid, but you know how every single person I’ve loved either dies or leaves? I was so scared out of my mind that something horrible would happen to her, I decided to end the engagement right there on the spot” Spencer admitted put loud for the first time, as tears rolled down his cheeks “You know the worst part? When y/n left town I even bought our apartment, just in case that she wanted to come back, but as days go back, I guess her decision was final, and she’s not coming back” Spencer continued his rant

“I really shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’ve kept tabs on her, since she left Virginia” Penelope said and Spencer’s eyes lit up at the possibility of learning something about you and your whereabouts

“Is she okay? Is she happy? How’s she doing in San Francisco?” Spencer rushed to ask, eager with anticipation

“She’s okay, she’s mostly working with children victims of human trafficking, so he’s been really busy, but overall her performance is alright” Penelope said, debating internally of she should give Spencer the envelope with your information she was caring on her purse

“y/n always enjoyed working with children” Spencer said with a small smile forming into his lips as the image of you popped on his head. He could see you, smiling brightly after solving the pieces that made the cases, the way you’d sight in relief after catching an unsub, and how dedicated you were to your work, he was so proud of you that the thought of you killing it on your new job made his heart flutter with excitement, but ache because the prospect of you coming back, somehow became even more distant

“I… there’s something else… she’s seen somebody new” Penelope said, and Spencer’s heart shattered at the idea of you with someone else. He could barely manage to stand, as his knees grew weak and his throat suddenly got dry “She’s dating an Assistant District Attorney, it’s something fairly new but I thought you should know” the blonde added, deciding she was going to facilitate Spencer all the information she had on you

“I hope he treats her right” Spencer said with a strain of voice as Penelope handed him the envelope she retrieved from her purse

“This is all the info I’ve gathered on y/n, I don’t know what you should do, but I… I hate seeing you like this, and honestly, the two of you were so happy together. I don’t know what happened or of it’s salvageable, but I know in my heart you love her, and she loves you, even if she’s forcing herself to move on, so just… follow your heart Reid, I know it’s hard and scary, but I promise you it’s worth it” Penelope said, cupping her friend’s cheek on her hand

“I don’t know what to say, I mean, of course I love her, but because I love her I have to let her go, I’m dangerous for her” Spencer said, with his eyes lingering from the envelope to his friend

“If that’s your final say, it’s okay, I brought this here for you, so I’m leaving it whether you want it or not, but please Spencer, I need you back, the whole team needs you” Penelope said cupping her friend’s cheek as she left the hotel room, leaving Reid with a messy web of thoughts that revolved around you.

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Another couple of days went by since Penelope’s visit, Spencer still hadn’t peaked through the envelope, but he was burning with anticipation to do so.

Spencer decided that he would make the best of this time off, and he could visit his mother. He bought a plane ticked for that same day, packed a bag with the envelope Penelope had left behind, and without letting anyone know, he left for Las Vegas, to see the only human being who could understand what he was going through.

“Hi mom” Spencer said entering the common room of the sanatorium Diana was on

“Spencer! How are you my honey” Diana greeted him with a warm hug, which he gladly accepted

“It’s been quite a while, but I’m alright” Spencer said, trying to hide the sadness on his eyes with a forced smile

“You should know better than to lie to your mother” Diana said, reading right through Spencer’s expression

“Everything’s messy mom, I… I broke off the engagement with y/n” Spencer spilled embarrassed of the whole situation, but confident his mom would have something wise to say

“You remember Mr. Knightley’s love confession to Emma?” Diana asked with a furrowed brow after a long pause, to take in her son’s words

“I cannot make speeches, Emma...If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me. I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it.” Spencer recited by heart; after all, he had read that novel at least ten times as it was your favorite. You didn’t know this, but the reason Spencer kept rereading the novel was to take inspiration and make references only for you and a handful of Jane Austen fans could catch in your wedding vows

“That’s right my brilliant boy, you want to know why those simple words have so much impact?” Diana said, getting ready to lecture her son in both literature, and love “Because when you love someone so much, it doesn’t matter how many layers and walls they build, at the end you know the right way to unfold them. As well, loving someone isn’t just loving when it’s easy, or when it seems right, it also means holding on through tick, thin, fears, complications and messiness. May I add, words are unnecesary when there is so much love in between” Diana said offering her son a kind smile

“I don’t think she can forgive me, mom, I really screwed up this time… I’m sure she thinks I don’t love her, damn, I wouldn’t be surprised if she thinks I never loved her in the first place” Spencer rambles exasperated by the whole situation his insecurities caused

“I’m sure she knows its bullshit, at the end of the day you love her; she’s a smart girl, she’ll figure it out just as I could tell you were trying to lie to my face” Diana said with a chuckle

“I’m sure she’s over me, she’s already dating a hot shot lawyer in San Francisco” Spencer said biting his lower lip

“It takes a lifetime to forget a great love, and lucky for you, that’s what you had; I’m sure you can get her back if you let go of your fears and put your heart on the line” Diana added cupping her son’s cheek

“I wouldn’t bet on it mom, I mean, I’ve put her through hell” Spencer said biting nervously the inside of his cheek

“Then bring her back from hell, just like Orpheus was supposed to bring Eurydice back” Diana said encouraging her son to follow his heart

“Do you believe I’m hard to love?” Spencer asked his mother in a serious tone, in hope she could calm down all his fears, and put to rest the voices in his head telling him it was not worth it

“I believe you are extraordinary, and that loving you is one of the greatest pleasure in life, of course, life comes with its ups and downs, but love is worth every single bump you encounter on the way” Diana said, convincing Spencer that he should fight for the one he loved, even if he was scared to death of doing so

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Spencer took another plane, this time it was bound to San Francisco; and he spent the whole plane ride studying obsessively the envelope Garcia had put together of you and your life in Frisco, as she had previously referred.

The transition made a toll on you, and you seemed to be putting on extra hours in the field just for the sake of it, but Spencer couldn’t shake away the feeling of pride that fluttered all around his chest as he reviewed your accomplishments. You seemed to be living on the bay area, and Spencer couldn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering as the pilot announced they were about to land in the airport. Suddenly, everything seemed real: the losing you, the never-ending love he still harvest on his heart for you, how much he had screwed up, the anxiety building over as the chance of rejection became a possibility. Sure, Spencer had come out of jail a changed man, but right now, he felt as anxious and vulnerable as the lanky Doctor with glasses he used to be when he first entered the BAU. What was he even supposed to do? Spencer Reid wasn’t used to winging things, but for the first time in his life, he boarded a plane without having an actual plan of what to do when he landed, and that was freaking scary.

He decided it would be creepy to just show up at your door, considering he knew your address by the information Penelope had given him when she visited, and he did not want to freak you out. Maybe he could hang nearby where you lived, until he either worked up the courage to talk to you, or he came up with an excuse that wasn’t pathetic to explain why he was so many miles away from home. A hotel! Suddenly Spencer thought he also needed to book a hotel or at least, find a place where he could spend the night. After reading a more than a couple of yelp reviews, the young Doctor found a hotel close enough to your home that he could get there by walking, but with enough distance to be considered respectful, or at least he thought so.

“For fucks sake, Spencer, you really need to come up with a hell of an excuse to be in San Francisco” Spencer muttered to himself as he was getting installed into the hotel room. After a couple of hours of pacing around in the room thinking, crafting, and tossing at the trash at least fifty excuses for him being in California, he decided it was about time to get something to eat.

He settled on a Thai place that was a couple of blocks away from his hotel, and as he was devouring his Tom Yum Goong, and suddenly he felt like he was about to choke on his soup: he heard your laugh. The same laugh that had been haunting his dreams for the past month, that one laugh he could recognize in a room full of noise, the laugh he would trade his lat breath of air, just to be able to hear at least one more time. The room started spinning and Spencer, a known rambler, suddenly was at a loss of words.

“Spencer?” he heard you calling him from the other side of the room, and for a second, Spencer Reid knew exactly why sailors found their death as soon as they heard the mermaid’s lullabies; but while he was thinking about drowning on the dulcet sound of your voice, a naughty piece of shrimp decided to block his airways and he started coughing

“Oh my god! Spencer, are you okay?” you rushed over to his side trying to help him, oblivious that your presence only made it harder for him to breath

“Excuse me, honey, let me handle this” Dylan, your new… situationship (?) said, holding Spencer and practicing the Heimlich Maneuver on the Doctor

If Spencer was struggling to find a good excuse for being in San Francisco, he better come up with something good, because this was deficiently the most embarrassing moment of his life; it was official, he has reached a new low point and he couldn’t wait for the earth to shatter under his feet and just swallow him.

“Hello y/n” Spencer said with a raspy voice as soon as he could breath

“Spencer! Hi, hello” you said, completely confused and shaken up by the situation that you just witnessed

“Are you okay, bro?” Dylan intervened, taking you out of the trance of what was going on in front of you

“Yes, I’m alright, thank you…” Spencer said, with his eyes glued to you

“I’m Dylan, Dylan Brown” Dylan said offering his hand to Spencer

“Spencer doesn’t…” you started speaking when you were interrupted

“I don’t shake hands, with the amount of pathogens you could get from a handshake is actually safer to jut kiss” Spencer cut you off “I’m Doctor Spencer Reid, nice to meet you” he said holding his hand up and waving a little

“Oh… I didn’t know we were in official business” Dylan said with a chuckle “District Attorney Dylan Brown, at your service” he continued flashing his winning smile, giving Spencer a weird feeling, maybe… jealousy? Whatever it was, definitely was the reason Spencer couldn’t spare a laugh for the person who pretty much just saved his life

“What are you… Why’re you here? I mean… Are you here on a case or something?” you asked, noticing how uncomfortable both Dylan and Spencer where with the situation

“I… I’m here to… yes! Actually I’m here consulting on a case” Spencer decided to lie, in order to preserve his last shred of dignity, little did he know…

“Oh really? That’s so weird, considering you’re on medical leave” you said cutting through his bullshit, okay, he didn’t know was it was possible, but somehow Spencer Reid started from the bottom, just to somehow sink even deeper

“How did you? How do you even know about the medical leave?” Spencer said, taking you off from the higher horse you pretended to be

“I didn’t… I mean… Garcia happened to mention something” you stuttered, as you refused to admit you had been checking up with Penelope, just to know how Spencer was doing

“Honey, we should go back to our table” Dylan once more intervened the staring contest that was going down between Spencer and you

“You should join me, actually, let me invite the two of you dinner, after all, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Dylan’s amazing technique of the Heimlich Maneuver” Spencer said with a hint of sarcasm, and you knew this night was bound to end in disaster

“We don’t want to impose” you rushed to reply

“Please, I insist, I’m just so shaken up by everything that went down” Spencer decided to play the victim, and you knew you were screwed

“Come on y/n, we can’t leave him all alone after his brush with death” Dylan said, unknowingly sealing the night’s fate, as he was taking a seat

“Thank you so much, to the both of you” Spencer started speaking, with his eyes piercing fierily into your own

“So you guys know each other?” Dylan tried to make sense of the situation

“Oh, yes, we used to work together, back in Virginia” you rapidly intervened to avoid Spencer giving away too much information

The dinner proceeded uneventful, but you couldn’t put your finger quite on it. There was something off with Spencer; the vibes weren’t vibing, and as much as you wanted to focus on Dylan, there was something magnetic pulling you towards Spencer, or maybe it was those damn profiler skills you couldn’t just push to the back or your mind, either way, you knew you had to stop it.

“I’m sorry for cutting this short, but I was just called into the office, apparently there’s an emergency” Dylan said checking his phone after ordering dessert

“Oh, let me come with you, maybe I can help” you said, thanking God, the universe or something for the way out

“Please don’t, you guys should really catch up, but I’ll text you when I get to the office, just so you don’t worry” Dylan said placing a kiss on the top of your head, making Spencer’s stomach flip “It was lovely to meet you Spencer, I hope this isn´t the last we see of each other” he added taking his coat, gifting the doctor a kind smile and walking away from the table

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked angrily as soon as Dylan went through the door

“I needed to talk to you” Spencer replied with a calm tone that was making your blood boil

“What do you want to talk about Reid? I think enough was said in Virginia” you scoffed

Spencer was a man of many words, unfortunately, at this very moment his brain was a mush and even if he wanted to, he was unable to string two sentences together. Seeing you made quite a number on him: his hands were sweaty, his head was spinning, his back was shivering, his pupils couldn’t focus, his stomach was in knots, and he was almost certain this is what a stroke feels like.

“So? Why are you really here?” you asked once more with an exasperated expression

“I…I…” he was choking again, this time just tripping with his own words

“Whatever you are playing, I want no part on it, I already lost enough with you” you said with a sober tone

“I’m in love with you, I fucked up, but I’m here to promise I’ll do everything in my power, actually I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you” Spencer rambled and you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation

“You’re a madman if you think you can just come here out of the blue, say that you love me and everything will be forgiven” you said, this time taking your own coat and leaving Spencer alone in the restaurant

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What the hell was wrong with Spencer Reid

That sentence was all you could think of on your way back home.

Did he really think he could show up in San Francisco, declare his love to you and what? You were supposed to come back to him? Even if your heart lowkey fluttered when your eyes first met his at the restaurant, he was being a complet ass and it was totally unacceptable. As you were getting ready to go to bed, your head was spinning, thinking about Spencer was not an option, but somehow the whole encounter kept poping into your head.

You tossed and turned on your bed, untill the clock on your bedside marked 2:20 am, and you knew there was only one person in the whole world who could help apeace your mind; the very same person that was the reason of your sleepless night.

“Hey, it’s me” you whispered as soon as Spencer picked up the phone

“Hello y/n, having a rough time sleeping?” you could hear Spencer’s husky voice on the other side of the line

“I think I’m ready to talk, and I’m guessing you already know where I live, so please come” you said, hanging up the call without giving him enough time to give you an answer

Fifteen minutes after the short phone call, Spencer was buzzing on the intercom of your apartment bulding; and no more than five minutes after that he was already knocking on your door.

“Please come in” you said, opening the door for him

“Thank you so much for having me over, I really need to talk to you” Spencer rambled as he was closely inspecting your apartment. There was something about the place, that somehow made it all feel like home even if it was on the opposite end of the country, althought deep down, he knew it wasn’t something, it was someone

“Please take a sit, and you better have a hell of an explanation to be here in San Francisco, because I’m not buying the idea that you’re here because you love me” you said, sitting on the couch across from where Spencer was standing

“I made a mistake, when we were in Quantico” Spencer started and you couldn’t help but cut him off with a sour smile, as your eyes starterd to accumulate tears. Sure, you had done everything in your power to just shove down the feelings to the bottom of your heart, and somewhow you were succedeing, but having the man you once loved, speaking about the most painful day of your life wasn’t easy

“If you’ve come here to state the obvious, you can just save your breath” you scoffed, trying to avoid his gaze

“I need you to hear me out, please” Spencer pleaded, and your heart couldn’t help but shatter a little with the amount of hurt that was accumulated both in his eyes, and his voice

“Alright, you got the floor to speak, but you can’t blame me for thinking this is riddiculous Spencer, you broke me, you had me all for yourself, and you decided to just… leave me” you said, feeling the tears roll down your eyes

“I got scared” Spencer said quietly, almost as a whisper

“Why were you afraid? I loved you with everything in me and more! There was no reason for you to doubt me!” you said, feeling both the pain and the anger building up in your throat

“I never doubted you! I was just… I was so afraid of something terrible happening to you… I just thought it’d be best to keep you away from me” Spencer replied, lowering his gaze

“What are you even talking about? You were afraid of something terrible happening to me? That’s why you decided it would be a good idea to just break my heart? Shatter all my dreams? Destroy the life we had planeed together?” you asked and Spencer couldn’t help but run his hands trough his hair in exasperation

“I don’t know how to explain this to you without sounding like a madman, or a religious freak; specially because I’m a man of science, but, please undertand me, statistically, all the people that I’ve loved either end up dead or terribly hurt” Spencer said and a chukle left your mouth before you could even realize

“Are you kidding me Spencer? Are you seriously telling me that you left me because you were somehow scared that you are cursed?” you asked in disbelief

“I’m not saying that I’m cursed! All I’m saying is that… I don’t know what I’m saying but I was trying to protect you! I love you so much, I’d hate myself if something happens to you because of me” Spencer pleaded. Sure, you knew it was wrong to laugh about people’s fears, and that everyone copes individually as they can, but this was just riddiculous to you

“Spencer, I work on the FBI with children and human traficking, I’m aware, actually, I’m certain that my name figures in more than one hit list, but that doesn’t stop me from living my life” you said, and you couldn’t help but feel that maybe if Spencer had the guts to talk about his feelings and fears out loud before, you wouldn’t be in this messy situation, hell, you’d probably even still be engaged

“I… I know that, and I’m so proud of you, and of your work but I… I couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you, and just not being able to protect you” Spencer added

“Let me get this straigth, you were so afraid of losing me, you decided to just leave me?” you asked with an ironic tone as another laugh scaped your lips

“I mean… if you put it like that, I guess I did” he said, with a small chuckle

“Besides, how dare you think is romantic leaving me safe and stranded? Do you have any idea how much I cried over you? How many days I couldn’t sleep just wondering where did we go wrong? My God, Spencer! We almost had it all, I love you with everything in me and you just… let me go” you added with a bitter tone, as you tried to comprehend the Doctor’s train of thought

“I genuenly believed I was doing what was best for you” Spencer said without meeting your eyes

“Spence, you can’t live with the constant fear that something terrible is just going to happen, I understand that with our line of work sometimes even existing is complicated, but, you have to be brave” you said with a softer tone, trying to get Spencer to understand how out of pocket hhis fears were

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, if I could just somehow take it back, I would, I… I guess my anxiety got the best of me” Spencer said, this time with an embarrased tone

“Yeah, I imagine, but, as you know, that’s just not possible you” you added with a small smile, almost a pitty smile, because you counldn’t believe how unserious Spencer’s reason to call off the engagement was

“If you let me, I’ll make it up to you for the rest of my life, I don’t care how much time I have to wait, I don’t even care if I have to move to San Francisco just to be with you! I’ll do anything, I’ll even marry you right here, right now, but please, give me another chance. Not a day goes by that I don’t love you! Hell, I even think I love you more today than I loved you yesterday, altough it’s not gonna be as much as I’ll love you tomorrow of the day after that” Spencer rambled, and you could feel your heart ache, for a whole month all you wanted, all you wished for was Spencer saying those words to you, but hearing them, now you were scared out of your mind

“I… I don’t think I can do this again, Spence” you said with a low voice

“Please y/n, I’ll do anything, I know deep down you still love me, maybe not as much as I love you, but it’s okay because I have so much love, I’ll just love you for the two of us” Spencer said with his eyes filling with tears

“I’m scared Spencer, how do I know you won’t jump ship again as easily as you did it last time?” you asked almost with a whispered. You figured out that if you were going to break his heart, at least you’d be straighfordward and honest

“I understand that you don’t trust me, or that’s scary, but you just told me that I can’t let my fears control my life… please, take a leap of faith with me” Spencer said stepping closer to the couch were you were sitting

“I don’t… I don’t know how, I already gave you my all once” you said, curling up on your couch like a wounded puppy

“Then let me prove to you that I mean it when I say I’ll give you my all, let me show you how serious I’m about spending the rest of my life with you” Spencer pleaded, taking your hand into his “I love you so much, I vow I won’t let anything come between us again, I don’t care if I have to fight a curse, a thousand unsubs, hitmen or whatever life throws at our way, I promise I’ll always stand by you… If you need to cry, I’ll be your shoulder, if you need protection, I’ll be your shelter, if you need to lean on, I’ll be your rock, but please, let me be everything and anyrthing you need” he added with teary eyes

“You get one chance, and we have a shit ton of things to figure out, but I swear if you screw up one more time, I’ll personally make sure to destroy you” you said with a teassing smile, and Spencer coulnd’t help but chuckle and plant a swee kiss on your lips

“I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure I don’t screw up again” he said, and you gave hijm another kiss

You knew it would be messy, and even a little embarrasing to anounce, but your heart somehow intertwined perfectly with Spencer’s. You knew you loved him with everything in you and somehow, you were convinced by his words aboout how much he loved you. At the end of the day, love is a bet, and you knew Spencer Reid was banned from every casino in Vegas because he was an expert on statistics, so maybe, with his head and your gut, the two of you’d find a way for your love to work out.