#I knew that seeing him again would make me emotional | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fluff-lover · 3 days ago

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Healing Touch | Chapter 5: Return Home

Chapter summary: You and Logan travel to Alberta in search for some answers as he slowly regains his memory.

Masterlist

This chapter contains a lot of Logan’s origin story, but it’s more based on the comic than the movie X-Men Origins: Wolverine.

7K words… who am I?

It’s been a few busy weeks to say the least.

After you and Logan agreed on working on his trauma together, you started having small sessions at night where you would use your power on him. In each session you placed your hands on each side of his head while he laid down on the lab’s bed and started healing his amnesia. You worked slowly, not wanting to trigger any bad memory without warning.

There was only so much you could do, and there was no guarantee any of it would work. Your powers only worked on a physical level, meaning you could heal parts of Logan’s brain that didn’t heal on their own, despite his enhanced healing. But Charles saw this as an opportunity to train and even expand your powers, hoping that in time you would be able to heal the emotional type of wounds, or be the one to caused them.

Fragments of Logan’s memories began to resurface, scattered and incomplete, like pieces of a puzzle he wasn’t sure how to assemble. He remembered his parents: his mother, Elizabeth, and the man he believed to be his father, John Howlett. He could recall the house he’d grown up in, the details hazy but still familiar. He even knew his name wasn’t really Logan. But that was where the trail ended.

What had happened to them? How had he discovered his mutation? The answers felt just out of reach, buried beneath layers of fog he couldn’t penetrate, no matter how hard you tried.

In search of more answers, you started planning your trip to his childhood home: Howlett Estate. You would take a flight to Lloydminster and then drive for two hours to Cold Lake. Originally you suggested taking a smaller plane from Lloydminster to Cold Lake’s regional airport, but took pity on Logan’s distaste for flying and decided to rent a car instead.

You knew this would be hard on Logan, facing his memories and old traumas wasn’t easy, so you wanted to make sure this was a pleasant trip.

Coincidently, the trip took place during Jean and Scott’s wedding, so Logan wouldn’t be in the mansion during that time. Hopefully this trip would also help you rebuild your trust in Logan. Despite reassuring him over and over again that you’d forgiven him already, your friendship changed and required a lot of care to go back to how it was before.

The day of the flight you had maps, flyers and all kinds of accessories for your trip, and you had a blast going from one place to the other in the airport, getting lots of snacks and things to pass the time. Logan was never too far behind, following you around and indulging on anything you wanted.

Despite his nervousness, Logan enjoyed seeing you so excited and bubbly, but most importantly, so relaxed around him. He worried your friendship was ruined when he first hurt you but you were slowly building the trust back up.

It was only after you landed at Lloydminster and got in the rental that the real fun started.

“I booked the cutest, cosiest looking Bed & Breakfast I could find, it’s adorable.” You said as you entered the address to the GPS. Logan groaned from the driver’s seat.

“I’m regretting this already.” He joked. “You know what? I take that back, I regretted this the moment you gave me a plane ticket.”

You laughed.

“Oh come on! It wasn’t so bad! I took your nausea away, didn’t I?”

His frown deepened.

“I still don’t like flying. If men were meant to fly, we would be born with wings.”

“Good thing I’m not a man.” You joked. “Be glad I got us a car instead of another flight for this part. Just drive, old man.” You said before opening a bag of snacks.

“Old man? Fuck off.”

You giggled.

“Aren’t you like a thousand years?”

Logan scoffed.

“...No.” He said after an awkward silence. “Your math is off. Also, don’t eat in the car, you’ll leave crumbs all over.”

You giggled again, and despite his grumpiness, Logan smiled.

“Whatever you say, grandpa.”

“Fuck you!” He said, but there was no malice in his voice. You just looked at him and took another bite of your snack.

“I’m hungry!” You said as an excuse. “Do you want some?”

“Nah, I’m fine. I don’t like candy.” He said, throwing you a look.

“Who the hell doesn’t like candy?” You asked dramatically “I think I have some Sour Patch kids around here, you’ll like them.” You said as you looked through your back.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because… your face looks like you’re constantly sucking a lemon.” Logan turned his head to look at you in disbelief. “Hey! Eyes on the road!”

“What do you mean I look like I’m sucking a lemon?” He asked confused.

“You know…” You pursed your lips, frowned your brow and raised your shoulders, trying to give your best impression of Logan. “Like you’re sulking.”

“I don’t sulk.” He said.

“Right… And I don’t cry while watching The Notebook. Are we just telling lies now?”

“Just give me that.” He snatched the bag of sour candy from your hand. “You’re terrible, you know that?”

“Yes, but you love me anyway.” You smiled and Logan just shook his head in defeat before pouring some candy straight into his mouth.

The ride was filled with banter and jokes. Seeing Logan so relaxed and somewhat happy made your heart flutter. You had never seen him like this, and you hoped it would last.

Watching him drive with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a relaxed smile on his face also did things to you. He looked so handsome, you would try to steal glances every once in a while.

When you finally arrived at the B&B you squealed in delight and jumped out of the car. The building had a “cabin in the woods” feel to it, but much bigger in dimensions, and it was surrounded by a large garden.

“It’s perfect! Just like in the photos! Isn’t it lovely?”

“It looks like a flower shop threw up on it.”

“Ew.” Your face quickly dropped. “Just because of that, you’re carrying the suitcases while I check us in.” You said before stomping towards the door.

“I was carrying the suitcases anyway!” Logan grumbled.

He took the suitcases and quickly caught up with you as you made your way to the reception. There you were welcomed by a sweet looking old lady.

“Welcome! You must be the honeymooners, the Wyatts!” She greeted them.

You quickly shook your head, your belly filling with butterflies at the idea of the two of you looking like newlyweds.

“Oh no, we’re not together. I mean, we’re together, but not together-together… We’re not married!” You tried to explain awkwardly while Logan tried not to laugh. “We booked two bedrooms under the name Howlett.” You said, your face growing hot.

“Yeah, we book two rooms in case the first bed breaks.” Logan joked, making you open your eyes so widely he thought they would pop out of your head.

“Logan!” You hissed and slapped his chest. Logan simply smiled and winked at you. Any other time you would be giggling like crazy at the idea of Logan and you breaking a bed, but you weren’t alone. The lady looked back and forth between the two of you before handing you two keys.

“You have room 13 and 14, they’re down that hall, across from each other. Breakfast is served from 7 to 10 in the dining room.”

You took the keys and nodded your head.

“Thank you ma’am.” you said before walking away fast, your face warm.

Your room was beautiful. It was tastefully decorated, had flowers on pretty much every surface, and the bed looked very cozy. You jumped on the mattress while Logan put your suitcase down.

“Comfortable?” He asked.

“Mhmmm.” You were barely audible with your face squished against the covers. Logan chuckled.

You felt the bed dip and raised your head to see Logan sitting down on the foot of the bed. He looked like there was something he wanted to say, so you sat up on the bed to give him your full attention.

“So, um… Listen,” He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to say… I appreciate everything you’re doing for me. You didn’t have to do any of this, but you did, and I wanted to say thank you.”

You smiled shyly. Logan wasn’t a man of many words, so when he opened up like this you made sure to appreciate it and soak into the moment.

“Nothing to thank me for. Helping people is what I do, it’s what I love. Maybe I never realized there are other ways I can help other than using my powers.” You shrugged. “I guess I never had a friend that mattered to me as much as you do.” You said with a certain vulnerability in your voice. Of course you left out the part of you being completely, utterly in love with him.

The admission took Logan by surprise. How could you, a sweet, selfless, beautiful woman not be surrounded by people you loved and loved you back.

“Why?” He asked. You tilted your head and frowned.

“Why, what?”

“Why me?” He shook his head, confused. “Not only I didn’t do anything to earn your friendship, but I also hurt you. You could have so many friends, so many people, why did you stick with me?”

You stared at him for a moment in shock.

“What do you mean you didn’t do anything to earn my friendship? You’re the first friend I made at the mansion.”

“That’s it?” Logan scoffed.

“For starters.” You placed your hand on top of his and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Logan, you earned my friendship with respect and support. Most friendships don’t start with great gestures, they start with kind words, spending time together, showing kindness. My first morning there I was nervous but you told me I would be okay. Words matter, Logan. And I knew I wanted you officially in my life the day you took me to the hospital to help. Remember?”

Logan looked down at your hands together and nodded.

“I remember thinking I had never seen anything like it. Not only you healed those kids, but the relief their parents must’ve felt…” He said softly. “And you never cared about people giving you credit…”

You chuckled.

“It’s better that way.” You shrugged. “I also knew we would be friends when you started training me. You didn’t think I would be useless on the battlefield just because I don’t have fighting skills. I appreciated that, I appreciated you having faith in me.”

Logan rolled his eyes.

“I couldn’t have you running around trying to save everyone but not knowing how to protect yourself.” He said teasingly.

“I would’ve been okay. I can heal, remember?”

“Just because you can heal doesn’t mean you should allow yourself to get hurt in the first place.” Logan whispered.

Those words touched you deeply. Without even thinking you leaned in and kissed his cheek. Logan blinked and looked anywhere but you, the tips of his ear turning red.

“I think that’s the sweetest thing you ever said to me. Thank you.” You whispered.

Logan cleared his throat and got up, dropping your hand in the process.

“Right. Of course. Anyway, we have a big day tomorrow, right?” He rubbed his palms on his jean-clad thighs, looking awkward as hell. You nodded your head.

“Meet me at 9 for breakfast and we’ll head to the Howlett Estate afterwards.” you said.

“Aye Captain!” He picked his suitcase on his way to the door and turned to look at you. He looked like he wanted to say something again, but this time he just pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Good night, Logan.” you said after a moment.

“Good night, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning.” he winked at you and walked out.

Logan was used to sleepless nights, but tonight felt different. His mind kept drifting to you, no matter how hard he tried to push the thoughts away. At one point, he got up, rummaging through his jacket until he found his lighter. The one you’d given him. He turned it over in his hand, his thumb brushing over the engraving, something he often did when he thought of you.

Yet you managed to get him flustered all over again. The little kiss on the cheek you gave him earlier was driving him mad. It had been so long since he felt anything like this, so kind and gentle, so intimate without being sexual, he didn’t know how to act about it.

There was no way he could keep denying it: he had feelings for you. Could you possibly feel the same way? Your last conversation was about your friendship, how come all the sudden friendship wasn’t enough? Where did all these feelings fit in?

Logan raked a hand through his hair, frustration tugging at him. You were everything he wasn’t: beautiful, sweet, kind. The kind of person who made the world a little brighter just by existing. Surely you didn’t feel the same way about him... right? You were kind to everyone; that was just who you were. It didn’t mean you liked him.

Still, he couldn’t ignore how deeply these feelings had crept up on him. They hadn’t come all at once but had grown slowly, quietly, in the peaceful moments you’d shared: the late-night talks, the easy silences that somehow said more than words ever could. He hadn’t even realized how much you’d come to mean to him, until tonight. Until that kiss.

This would explain why he felt so jealous of Alex Summers, why he was so traumatized by the sight of your blood on his hands. Only you could get him to board a plane willingly, so what else would he do for you?

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, his voice heavy with frustration. Things were about to get a lot more complicated. There was no way he could tell you how he felt. You deserve the best: someone kind, someone who could give you everything you deserved. That wasn’t him. Not after everything he’d done. Especially not after that night…

The memory hit him like a punch to the gut. The night he attacked you. The guilt from that moment never left him, gnawing at the edges of his mind. You’d forgiven him, but he hadn’t forgiven himself. He didn’t deserve someone like you, not after that. Not ever.

Logan sat back on the edge of the bed, staring down at the lighter in his hand. His thoughts spiraled, a storm of self-loathing and regret. He convinced himself, as he always did, that he was destined to be alone. No good woman would ever settle for someone like him, let alone you.

The next morning arrived with an unexpected cold, so you threw on your warmest clothes and headed to the main hall for breakfast, excitement bubbling inside you at the idea of finding out more about Logan’s past.

But the feeling wouldn’t last. When you got to the dining room you found Logan was already there, looking grumpier than usual. He had a deep frown on his face, and looked at his coffee cup as it had personally offended him.

“Hey, good morning.” You greeted him.

When he looked up at you, his face softened and his shoulders seemed to relax.

“Morning. Slept well?” He asked as you sat down across from him.

“Not really, I guess I was too excited about today to sleep. What about you?”

Logan mulled over it for a moment.

“Same.” He said simply.

“Are you okay?” You asked. “We don’t have to do it today if you’re not ready.” You reassured him. He quickly shook his head.

“No, there’s no point dragging this on any longer.” He ran a hand down his face. Your heart ached for him, he looked tired and angry.

“Logan…” You went to reach his hand, but he quickly pulled it away.

“You should go get some breakfast, we have a long day ahead.”

You got up and headed to the table where the food was served. If Logan wanted to be a grumpy cat, so be it.

He really did look like he was sucking a lemon.

The ride to the Estate was quiet, a big contrats from the ride the day before. There was no banter or jokes, just music playing softly on the radio.

When you finally reached the Estate, you let out a whistle.

“Damn, Logan! I didn’t know you grew up filthy rich.” You joked. The main building, a manor that seemed frozen in time, stud tall and big at the top of a hill, surrounded by a vast land.

“Neither did I.” He said with a somber tone. Being back here after so long made Logan feel uneasy, like he was entering a sacred place that was prohibited to him, while at the same time walking into a dangerous place. Either way, he didn’t want to be there. You could tell this wasn’t easy for him and you wanted to make him feel at ease, but you could only help him as much as he would allow it. And right now he was being too stubborn for that.

When he parked the car you both got out, but as Logan headed to the door he noticed you weren’t following. Instead you stood by the car, arms crossed on your chest and a pout on your face.

“You coming or what?” He asked annoyed.

“No.” You stomped your foot like a child about to throw a tantrum. “Not until you tell me why you’re being such an ass this morning.” You pressed.

Logan glared at you.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Come on.”

You shook your head.

“Nope. Something happened and I wanna know what.”

Logan groaned.

“Coming here was your idea, so come on, let’s get moving.”

But you didn’t budge, shaking your head.

“You’re doing it again!” You said.

“Doing what?” Logan asked confused.

“Pushing me away.” You replied, your voice shaking. It made Logan stop in his tracks. He had sworn he wouldn’t push you away again. With a defeated sigh he ran a hand down his face and walked back towards you.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to. I guess I’m really stressed right now, not knowing what we may find there.” He said pointing at the building with his thumb over his shoulder. “I barely got any sleep but I don’t mean to take it out on you.” He reassured you.

Damn, you really had him wrapped around your finger, didn’t you?

“Why didn't you just tell me? You know you can tell me anything.” The sad look on your face, with a little pout on your lips, made Logan’s defense crumble.

“I know, I’m sorry sweetheart. You already did so much for me I didn’t want to burden you with something else.”

You pouted even more.

“After all this time you still haven’t learned that you’re not a burden for me.” You shook your head and stepped closer. “I guess I’ll just have to keep reminding you.” You took his hand and walked towards the door. “Come on!”

Logan smiled softly. Of course you forgave him right away, you just couldn’t stay mad at him.

He was so screwed!

“Is it anything like you remember?” You asked him and he looked around the building.

“Somewhat, yeah. But mostly things look out of place.”

Several families lived there after the Howletts, and in the latest decades functioned as a museum, so changes were to be expected, but at least most of the structure was left the same since the last time Logan was there.

You were spotted by an employee behind a counter.

“Welcome to Howlett Estate! Would you like a guided tour?” He asked.

“No.” Logan said simply. You threw him a look.

“We would like to explore on our own, but we may have questions for later.” You added politely.

“Okie dokie! Here are some flyers and you can use your phones to download more information.”

You took the flyers and smiled.

“Thank you!” You said before taking Logan by the arm and walking away. “I like him, he says okie dokie.” Logan simply rolled his eyes.

Stepping into the museum felt like traveling through a time machine. The furniture, the lamps, the carefully preserved clothes, all of it carried the weight of 200 years of history. You couldn’t help but wish these artifacts could speak, sharing the stories they had witnessed. How many footsteps had echoed through these halls? How many secrets were tucked away within these walls?

With your arm gently hooked around Logan's, you strolled at a leisurely pace, making sure he didn’t rush through the space. You wanted him to take it all in, to truly absorb every detail around him.

In the main room rested an imposing portrait of the Howlett family: John, Elizabeth and little James.

“Is that you?” You whispered pointing at the boy on the painting.

“I think so.”

“Awww you were so cute!” You gushed. Logan blinked and looked away, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Look at those little shorts!”

“I looked ridiculous in those clothes.” He deflected.

“Uh I’m sure they were very fashionable at the time.” You shrugged. “Your mom was very beautiful.”

Logan stared at the woman in the painting with a newfound pain in his chest: he craved for a motherly love he never felt. For someone who lived such a long life, he surely missed out on a lot of things.

“She really was.” He said softly.

You stayed quiet, knowing Logan needed a moment to process everything. There were signs of recognition in his eyes, but you didn’t dare to ask. If he wanted to share a memory with you, he would let you know.

You moved from one room to the other, until you reached a children’s bedroom and Logan stopped in his tracks.

“I remember this place…” He walked in slowly, taking everything in.

“Yeah?” You were curious. “Was this your bedroom?”

“I think so. It looked a bit different then, but yeah…”

“You had a big ass bed.” You pointed out the fancy mahogany bed. “I bet you were very spoiled.” You teased, but you dropped your playfulness when you saw the lost look on Logan’s face.

“I remember spending a lot of time in bed. I was a sickly kid.” He then walked to the bed and stared at it for a moment. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Suddenly Logan pushed the bed to the side, as if it weighed nothing.

“Logan!” You chastised. “We’re not supposed to touch anything!”

“Just keep watch.” Logan said before kneeling down and reaching behind the head of the bed.

“What are you doing?” You asked before leaning against the door, watching out for anyone coming your way.

“I left something in here…” he tapped around the wall until he heard a hollow sound. The room had clearly been reformed through the years, but to Logan’s surprise his little hidden spot was untouched. With one of his claws he managed to pull out a piece of skirting board and there it was: his little box of treasures.

He quickly put the board back in its place and then moved the bed.

“What is that?” You asked as you both sat on the bed. Logan opened the tin box, dust flying everywhere, and was met with little pieces of his childhood. There was an uncharacteristic tenderness in the way Logan picked the first item, his movements careful and deliberate, a stark contrast to his usual rough manner.

It was a little lead soldier.

“I remember this, my grandfather got it for me during a business trip.” He said before going for another item, and then another, and another. “He wasn’t very nice, so little things like this meant a lot to me.”

In the box were all kinds of things a boy could treasure: a few colorful marbles, a feather, some coins…

“It’s like a time capsule.” You whispered before reaching in and taking a postcard from the box. It had a beautiful painting of a rose. You turned it around and read outloud “Love you forever, your little flower -Rose.” You smiled softly. “Mmmm who’s Rose?”

Logan took a moment to think before picking the car.

“A childhood friend.” He said. It was a lie, or at least not the whole truth. Logan and Rose’s story was a long and messy one, one that ended in tragedy.

“A childhood friend.” You repeated with a scoff. “I didn’t know you called your friends “little flowers”.” you teased, elbowing him playfully.

Logan rolled his eyes.

“Shut up.” He said before snatching the card from your hand and placing it back in the box. If it wasn’t because of the shy smile on his face you would think he was actually mad.

Then something in the box caught his attention and his smile dropped. You watched as he carefully picked up an old pocket watch from the box.

“This was my father’s.” He said softly. “It was broken, so he didn’t use it anymore. He told me I could keep it and maybe one day I would figure out how to fix it.” He frowned, caressing the watch with his thumb, the same way he did with his lighter. “That day never came.” He said sadly.

You watched him quietly, before placing your hand on his back and rubbing soothing circles on it.

“You just got a piece of him back, that’s something…” You commented.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Excuse me?” A voice behind you said. You quickly threw your coat on Logan’s lap, hiding the box, before turning to see a tour guide standing by the door. “You’re not supposed to sit on the bed.” He said, a disapproving look on his face.

“Right! Of course! I’m sorry!” You jumped from the bed and walked towards him. “So, I have some questions, I saw there are a lot of portraits on the staircase, are they members of the Howlett family? Who are they?” You talked fast, pushing the guide out to the hall to give Logan a moment alone. You gave Logan a pointed look over your shoulder before stepping out of the room.

Logan kept looking into the box before finally closing it and putting it in your bag. He would look more into it later, for now he had to make sure you weren’t getting in trouble.

He found you asking all kinds of questions to the poor guide, who looked confused and flustered.

“... so if the mattresses were filled with feathers, how many geese or ducks would they need to fill in a king sized bed?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t know, ma’am.”

“I imagine it would be a lot!”

“Right.”

“And they made their own candles, right? Now, how do you make a candle?” You asked, playing dumb.

“I think that’s enough, sweetheart.” Logan said, stopping by your side. The guide sighed with relief.

“I have one more question!” You said before turning back to the poor guy. “What happened to the Howlett family? Are they still around?”

“I’m afraid the family’s history is a tragic one. For starters John and Elizabeth’s first son, John Jr. passed away when he was a baby. Years later they had their second son, James. There aren’t any actual records, given the time, but for what we could gather James was an illegitimate son Elizabeth had with the groundskeeper, Thomas Logan. Either way John raised James as his own. Not that he had much of a choice, at the time it would’ve been a massive scandal if people knew James was a bastard child.” while the guide talked and pointed out some portraits you glanced at Logan. There was a storm brewing behind his hazel eyes and you worried he would lash out any moment.

“Whether Mr. Howlett knew or not isn’t clear, but we do know he fired Logan. One evenight Thomas returned and the two men fought to death. It’s believed that he came back to take his son away and was killed in the process, not without mortally wounding John first. Still, someone must’ve taken little James, because he went missing after that. People in town searched for him, but he was never found.”

Slowly and very discreetly you stood by Logan and took his hand. With a squeeze to his fingers you told him you were there for him. This couldn’t be easy for him to hear. He squeezed your hand back, your touch grounding him.

“Feeling incapable of carrying on without her husband and her soon,Mrs. Elizabeth Howlett took her own life. The Howlett name remained, thanks to John’s father, who kept the place up and running until his death. He never stopped looking for James.” The guide concluded.

There was an extended silence, as everything seemed to sink in.

“That is very sad.” you said softly after a moment.

“Indeed.” the guide said. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

You looked at Logan and he shook his head.

“No, that would be all, thank you.” You replied.

“Of course, don’t forget to stop by the gift store!” the guide said before retreating away.

You turned to look at Logan fully.

“Are you okay?”

Logan barely nodded his head.

“Enough for today.” He mumbled before walking away.

It wasn’t long before you were both sitting at a table in the far corner of a bar. Logan knocked back drink after drink while you nursed a beer. The tin box laid open on the table while Logan inspected some of his old “treasures”. You were quiet for most of it, but you were worried about him and couldn’t keep silent much longer.

“Are you okay?” You asked. “I know today was intense and a lot happened, but did you at least get some answers? Any memories?”

Logan nodded before downing another drink.

“He was wrong.” He mumbled.

“Who?”

“The tour guide. He got most of the story right, but some details were wrong.” Logan took his father’s watch with a longing look. “My father didn’t kill Thomas Logan, I did.” He confessed. “That night I found out I was a mutant, I killed him with my claws… I was just a child.” He shook his head in shame.

“Oh Logan, I’m so sorry.” you said placing a hand on his arm.

“Thomas Logan was my biological father, but he didn’t mean anything to me. John Howlett didn’t raise me to avoid a scandal. He loved my mother and he loved me. In my heart he will always be my true father.”

“What happened after?” You asked.

“Rose and I ran away with help from my grandfather. The memories get hazy after that, but I do recall…” He took a deep breath. “I recall killing Rose by accident.” He said sadly.

“Oh, Logan…” You didn’t know what to say.

“I hurt everyone I care about, even before I knew I was a mutant I hurt my family.”

“No, Logan, stop. The way you were conceived wasn’t your fault, you didn’t choose to be your father’s son. You didn’t kill your mother, that’s on her.” You shook your head.

“What about Rose, uh? Or the others that came after her? My life is an endless battle, one death after the other.” He shook his head in defeat. “You should go back to the Mansion without me.”

Your heart dropped.

“What?” the question came out in a shaky voice. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Angel…” Logan sounded exhausted. “I’m a bad man. You don’t need a bad man in your life.”

You frowned and felt hot tears threatening to spill out.

“Logan, I need you to listen to me.” You said while taking his hand over the table. “I know you say you’re a bad man because you feel guilty, because you have a conscience that weighs on you. But what if I told you that doesn’t make you a bad man. It does the opposite.” He looked at you confused. “A bad man doesn’t care if he hurts someone else, he only cares about himself. A bad man doesn’t have a conscience. And this, James Logan Howlett, is how I know you’re not a bad man. Because you care, I know you do, you care so much and behind this tough exterior there’s a good man craving forgiveness, companionship and even love.”

Logan looked at you for a moment, his eyes going from one side of your face to the other, as if he was memorizing your face.

“Sweetheart…” He breathed out.

“Please don’t leave me.” you begged, catching him by surprise. “You left once and it nearly killed me, please don’t do it again, don’t push me away.” Without realizing, tears started rolling down your cheeks. Logan reached up to touch your face and your eyelids dropped as he wiped your tears.

Your heart ached for him. You were convinced he would never love you back, not the way he loved Jean, but when he touched you like that you couldn’t help but feel a little bit of hope.

In the meantime Logan wondered how he got someone like you to care for him so much, to see the good in him when he couldn’t see it himself. You were so beautiful and if it was up to him you would never cry tears of sadness ever again.

“It’s been a long day, we both need some rest.” He said, both of you exhausted.

Once back at the B&B Logan walked you to your door.

“Will you be okay tonight?” You asked softly.

“Yeah.” Logan replied without thinking too much, before frowning and rubbing his neck. “I think so...” he added unsure. “...probably not.”

“We can stay up and talk a little bit more, if you want.” You offered.

Talking was the last thing Logan wanted to do.

“Angel…” He stepped closer, something shifting in his eyes. He lifted a hand to your face, so slowly it felt as if he was trying not to scare you, and placed it on your cheek. Your breath hitched and you tilted your head against his hand, seeking his touch. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me.” Logan whispered.

As if drawn together by an invisible force, you stepped closer until your chests were nearly brushing. Logan hesitated, his gaze searching yours for any sign to pull away, to stop. But all he found was an invitation: a soft, loving look that made him feel like the only person in the world. It was as if nothing else existed, no one else mattered, and you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

“I would do anything for you, Logan.” you confessed.

And that was all Logan needed to take the next step. He leaned in and pressed his lips against you in a chaste, tentative kiss. Your hands moved up his chest to rest on each side of his neck, pulling him closer, his free hand resting on your hip.

When Logan pulled back he didn’t go far, he rested his forehead against yours. You opened your eyes slowly and looked at him still trying to wrap your head around the fact that he had kissed you. You dreamed of this moment so many times, you weren’t ready to let go.

You tilted your head up and kissed him again, this time with more enthusiasm as the initial shock washed away.

Logan wrapped his arm around your waist while you ran your hands up his neck and your fingers through his hair. When your tongue slipped past his lips, Logan let out a low growl and pulled you closer.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” He hissed against your lips. “I should’ve kissed sooner.” He said before kissing you again.

“I wish you had.” You whispered.

Logan pressed you against your door, wanting to feel you impossibly close.

“I don’t think I can stop.” Logan admitted.

“I don’t want you to stop. I've wanted this for a long time.” You said, but before he could kiss you again you pulled your face away slightly. “But I need to know…”

Logan pulled back to look at you better and waited.

“Yes?”

Suddenly you felt like you couldn’t speak, no words would come out of your mouth. When Logan saw you struggle, he tilted your chin and made you look at him.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry if I pushed you too much.”

You quickly shook your head.

“No, it’s not that… It’s just that…” You took his hands, wanting to ground yourself. “If we’re going any further, I need to know it’s not because you can’t be with Jean.” You looked at him shyly. “I don’t want to be your second choice.”

Logan stared at you for a moment in shock. He knew you were aware of his feelings for Jean, you even held him when he cried over her engagement with Scott. So it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you had your doubts. He wanted to shut those doubts down fast.

“You’re not.” He said. “I’m an idiot, this entire time I’ve been pinning after her yet you were here by my side, putting up with my crap.” He shook his head. “All those times I talked about her, did I hurt you?”

You chewed your lower lip as you tried to come up with an answer. But you didn’t need to, Logan saw right through you.

“Oh, sweetheart…” He pulled you closer and kissed your forehead. You instantly clinged onto him. “I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t know.” you tried to comfort him. “I’m sorry I killed the mood.”

Logan chuckled lightly against your skin.

“You didn’t kill anything. I’m glad we talked about this.” He pulled back and cupped your face. “I don’t want Jean, not anymore. I want you, even though I’m convinced I don’t deserve you.”

You rolled your eyes and gave his shirt a little tug.

“You keep saying that, can I convince you otherwise?” You asked with a flirty tone as you played with his dog tags. Logan smirked.

“Perhaps I can be persuaded.” He flirted back.

You quickly opened your bedroom door and pulled him inside. You couldn’t help but giggle as you pushed his jacket off his shoulders and he kicked the door shut. This was everything you dreamed of! Logan easily picked you up by your thighs and you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist.

“You better not drop me!” You laughed.

“Never!” He chuckled and kissed you again.

Logan set you down carefully on the dresser where he took his time tasting your lips and exploring your mouth. Your hands wandered all over his chest, his broad shoulders, his biceps… you wanted to touch every inch of him. You couldn’t get enough of him.

At one point he pulled back and caressed your cheek.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic softness. His eyes held a rare tenderness, mirrored in the gentle way his fingers brushed against you. It was a good thing you were sitting down because your knees were weak and you felt like melting inside. “My sweet little angel.” Logan added before kissing you again.

Your hands worked on unbuttoning his flannel and quickly pushed it off his shoulder, dropping it on the floor next to his jacket.

“Logan…” You whispered against his lips. “Take me to bed…”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

You spend the rest of the night in Logan’s arms, making love and having all kinds of conversations in between, from deep and revealing to fun and silly. But you only had so much energy, and after the fourth round your eyelids started to drop. Logan watched you as you curled up against him, his fingertips caressing your arm up and down. You were breathtaking and he kicked himself for not realizing sooner.

At one point you felt the sheets rustling and the bed moving. You turned to see Logan sitting on the bed, slowly dressing himself. With your eyes heavy with sleep, you tried to sit up, lifting yourself up with your elbow.

“What are you doing?” You asked softly.

Logan turned to look at you and smiled at the sight: you looked adorable, half asleep, your hair a mess, your lips bruised from all the kisses. and the sheets barely covering your naked body.

“Go back to sleep, baby.” He whispered.

Your heart dropped.

“You’re leaving? Why?”

The worry and sadness in your voice didn’t go unnoticed to Logan.

“It’s not what you think.” He shook his head and leaned to kiss your forehead. “I just can’t fall asleep next to you.”

“Why?” you pouted.

“I’m worried I may hurt you again.” He admitted.

You looked at him for a moment, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

“I wish you didn’t leave.” You wanted nothing more but to sleep in his arms.

“I know, baby, I know.” He sighed. “I’ll keep working on it, I promise. I just don’t want to hurt you.”

You reached for his hand. What he didn’t know is that this was hurting you too.

“Will I see you in the morning?”

Logan smiled and lifted your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly.

“Darling, after tonight, you won’t ever get rid of me.” He chuckled and leaned to kiss you. “Get some sleep, I’ll bring us breakfast in a few hours.” He promised.

“Mmmokay.” You sighed and nuzzled your pillow. “It better be a good breakfast, with lots of kisses.”

Logan chuckled and got up.

“All the kisses you want, my angel.”

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#logan howlett #x men #hugh jackman #logan howlett fic #the wolverine #james logan howlett #james howlett #wolverine #x men fanfiction #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x you #logan x reader #healing touch

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nayedoll · 2 days ago

Text

Hold me down

joost klein x fem!reader

rpf below, don’t read if you’re uncomfortable

description: following a christmas party at his house, joost and reader meet again after months of no contact, despite their failed attempts to overcome a complicated relationship.

warnings: 18+, nsfw, angst/smut, rpf

a/n: sort of based on the song ‘hold me down’ by daniel caesar, i #love this song so much ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

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Your trembling hands rush to light the cigarette between your glossed lips, eager to feel the rush of the nicotine fill your lungs, to try and ease the gnawing anxiety in you. You inhale slowly, watching as the smoke drifts upward, becoming one with the snow that blankets the empty Amsterdam streets.

You hear laughter from inside the apartment, unmistakably your friends’ voices breaking the silence of the night; it’s a cheerful sound, but right now it only makes you feel like you want to leave, if you didn’t already.

You scold yourself for coming here, for thinking things would be different. Joost hadn’t reached out since your last argument, and you had moved on, or at least you thought you had. Realizing all these months of self-love, of pretending to heal, were nothing but a waste of time, a distraction before you once again found your way back to him; it makes you angry with yourself. Why is it so hard to get over someone you didn’t even date?

Things with Joost had been complicated since the beginning; neither of you ever quite knew what you wanted —or maybe you did and refused to see it— but you just couldn’t seem to let go, somehow always ending up in each other’s arms. Even after all the harsh words you’d exchanged, all the fights, all the jealous outbursts, all the blaming— it was hard to leave, for the both of you, because underneath everything, there was love; it had never been acknowledged, never been voiced, but you knew it was there, at least on your side.

But even with all the highs, you couldn’t ignore the lows. Sometime early in the year, after your last fight, you’d decided that you wouldn’t go back, that you needed time to yourself, seeing how toxic you were for each other. So you cut him off, avoiding him as much as possible, afraid that sooner or later, he’d pull you back to him, back to your old destructive ways.

And in the beginning, you were hopeful, that finally you’d manage to erase Joost from your life, forget about him and move on. But, of course, such strong feelings don’t go away that easily. And so, when your friends had told you about this gathering Joost was hosting, insisting that you should come along for once, you really couldn’t say no.

So here you were, having drunk too much for your own comfort, hiding away in the balcony, feeling a mixture of emotions.

You take another long drag of your cigarette, focusing your drunken gaze to the snowflakes falling down the sky. Your fingers, numb from the cold, press on your phone screen that lights up immediately. The time reads 2:03 A.M, and you almost gasp, realizing how badly you’ve lost track of time.

You throw your cigarette to the floor, pressing your shoe on it, before rushing inside.

Just as you’re at the door, someone else opens it first— Joost, of course. You slightly take a step back, half-lidded eyes shifting to look up at him.

“Oh,” Joost says, obviously not expecting to see you here, “Hey,”

“Hi,” You say back, your voice small.

“I thought you’d already left,”

“No- no, I was just smoking,” You explain as Joost takes a step closer, shutting the door behind him.

“Since when do you smoke so often?” He smiles, crossing his arms.

You let out a dry chuckle, “Since today, I guess,” Thinking about how many smoke breaks you’d taken, just to avoid being in the same room with Joost.

You stare at him wordlessly, not really knowing what to say. The way he eyes you, makes you become increasingly aware of yourself and the amount of alcohol in your system, your head spinning uncontrollably.

“Uh- Anyways, I should probably go.” You try to walk past him, but he stops you, getting in the way of the door.

“Wait,” He says softly, “How are you getting home?”

You glance up at him, confused. “I have a car,”

“You’re kidding right? Y/n, you reek of vodka,” Joost says firmly, taking a stern expression.

“I’ll be fine,” You sigh, hardly convincing yourself.

“No you won’t,”

“Yes, I will,” Once again, you attempt to leave but Joost puts his hand on your shoulder, making you look back at him.

“Y/n c’mon, don’t be like that,” He sounds more concerned than angry, like he truly cares for you and it catches you off guard. “I’m not letting you drive in the snow, while you’re drunk,”

“Well, what do you want me to do?” You ask in frustration.

He stays quiet for a moment, and it looks like he’s thinking about something. “Stay the night,”

You shake your head, hearing exactly what you feared he’d say. “Joost, I don’t think that’s a good id-,

“Please,” Joost cuts you off, his brows softening, “It just wouldn’t be right for me to leave you like this,”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips, seeing him be so caring, for what feels like the first time in forever. You look behind you, towards the snow-covered streets, realizing that driving in this state is a no-go.

“Fine,” You reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

You follow him inside to the living room; your friends are long gone by this hour, only having left behind a pile of empty beer cans.

“I can just sleep here,” You tell Joost, not wanting to burden him any further.

“No, it’s fine. You can sleep in my room,” Joost says, already making his way inside.

You stay still thinking about it for a second; not like you haven’t been in there before, you tell yourself.

The floor creaks as you walk inside the room, and you immediately get hit with all the memories in here— all the late nights, the kissing, the laughing, as well as the fighting, the yelling, the crying. It’s bittersweet, looking back on it now.

You sit down on the bed, lazily made as always, as Joost hands you a blanket.

“Thanks,” You smile at him, “And sorry for burdening you,”

Joost’s brows knit together, as if he can’t understand what you’re saying. “Don’t say that. You’re never a burden,” He sits down on the bed beside you, lightly placing his hand on your thigh; it’s more of a reassuring gesture than it is sexual, but you still feel something jolt in you.

You purse your lips, a weird feeling coming through you; you wish he’d said that more during your relationship—if you can even call it that— when you needed to hear it, when you felt insecure, unable to fully trust him.

You look away, suddenly not sure what to do with the space between you. “I didn’t ask you earlier,” You start speaking, not really sure if you should, just longing for him to stay a little longer. “How have you been?”

“Good, I guess,” His voice is charged with uncertainty, like there’s more he wishes he could say— because really, Joost loves you, maybe even more than you love him. And yet, he’s never told you, he’s never dared to acknowledge it.

And maybe that was the problem. He didn’t mean to hurt you; he just didn’t know how to be better. He wishes he could be the kind of guy to offer you the things you deserve—stability, trust, a healthy fucking relationship—but then doubts creep in; his past, his fears, the pieces of himself he’s never quite put together, always seem to get in the way.

“And you?” He asks.

“Good,” You look away, your fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt. “Just… different,”

Joost’s lips form into a tight line, as he nods understandingly. “Yeah,”

“By the way,” He adds, causing you to glance at him again. “I’m sorry for how we ended things and all… I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that,”

You almost wince at the remembrance of that night, your last fight. “It’s fine. I’m sure I’ve said worse,”

You both laugh, trying to make light of the situation; it helps to soothe the tension, as you stare him, his smile with the dimples you love so much. The silence lingers, heavy with unspoken feelings.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, you’re leaning in. Your lips meet his in a soft touch, kissing him slowly at first, as if to test the waters.

You pull away briefly, looking at him wordlessly, searching for a reaction.

Instead of speaking, Joost pulls you in again, this time kissing you harder, as his hand gently holds your cheek. It’s desperate and tender all at once, a mixture of regret, longing, and something deeper, something that never quite left, even in the worst moments.

Your body moves forward, overtaken by desire, as Joost’s hands on your waist guide you to sit on him. Right as you do that, you feel the rough denim of his jeans brush against your clit, the small wave of pleasure enough for you to moan into his mouth.

“Do that again,” Joost says softly in your ear, his kisses spreading to your jaw and neck; you do as you’re told, your body grinding against his thigh in small circles as Joost attempts to undo your bra, his big hands reaching over to your back, under your top.

“Let me do it,” You laugh, noticing the way he struggles, “So I guess you haven’t seen anyone else if you’re struggling this much,” You tease him, as you take off your bra and shirt altogether.

Joost grins, his eyes momentarily sweeping across your half-naked body. He firmly holds your waist, “No one’s as good as you,”

You smile at the praise, before Joost pulls you closer, pressing a wet kiss to your neck. You start to move against his leg again, this time only more upwards, until you’re full on sitting on top of him. You breathe sharply, trying to get whatever bit of pleasure you can from his clothed cock.

“Want me to take my pants off?” He asks, and you nod, desperate to feel more of him.

He gets up— visibly stimulated, considering how deep his breaths are— hands rushing to his belt. You bite your lip, impatient eyes shifting between his face and the metal clasp of his belt.

Finally, Joost unclasps the belt, his pants falling to the floor with a metal sound. He looks back at you, his gaze soft as he steps forward.

Again, he lowers his head, his lips catching yours in a hungry kiss; with his knee on the bed, stabilizing himself, he slowly pushes you backwards onto the cold covers, one of his hands wrapping itself around your tits in the meantime. You sigh in pleasure, allowing Joost to lean more forward as you instinctively open your legs. His lips move to your jaw, before he sparsely places open-mouthed kisses across your upper body.

You catch a glimpse of him as he presses a soft kiss on your stomach, his hands sliding down to your hips, over the satin fabric of your skirt.

“Please,” Is pretty much the only word you can muster, your voice laced with need.

Joost briefly looks up at you, pouting playfully— “Aw my baby’s desperate,”

“Shut up,” You lightly push your leg to hit him, quietly giggling to yourself.

Joost feigns pain, smiling widely “It’s okay. How can I ever say no to you anyways?” Reaching up to kiss you sloppily in the cheek.

As his lips once again wander off to your neck, you allow yourself to relax, stretching your neck to give him the access he needs.

You feel his hand go lower, his fingers toying with the waistband of your lace panties, before he lowers them down to your calves; if you weren’t so out of it, you’d be embarrassed at how quickly you’d grown wet, given all Joost has managed to do so far is just kiss you— But as his fingers start to rub your sensitive clit, that’s the last thing on your mind; you moan softly at each gentle use of his fingers, small waves of pleasure washing over you.

His teeth bite gently at your pulse point, as he picks up the pace of his fingers on your clit. Your breaths become shallow, pure bliss spreading throughout your body, signaling that your climax is near.

But Joost abruptly stops, now rubbing your clit in excruciatingly slow circles— once again, he’s playing with you, teasing you like he always fucking does in bed. He smirks against your neck, hearing you sigh in frustration.

“All good?” He asks, still maintaining the same slow speed.

“Are you serious?” You breathe out, attempting to, at the very least, sound a bit mad but you can’t take him seriously with the stupid grin he’s got on his face.

“What?” He knits his brows, feigning confusion.

You scoff, “Seriously Joost, you’re so mea-” Your words are cut off by a sharp moan as Joost picks up speed again, even going as far as to slide one finger in. “Mean.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about lief,” Again, he slows down.

“Joost!” You say in frustration, though you still giggle at his unserious tactics.

Joost’s free hand cups your face, caressing it with his thumb. “Alright, alright— het spijt me,”

This time he doesn’t tease you, instead now fully focusing on making you feel good; he pops two digits inside of you, the wet sound of your pussy and small moans being the only sounds in the quiet room. Your climax is unmistakably close, having you full-on whimpering now. As your legs start to tremble, you’re overcome with pleasure, Joost’s fingers insisting until the very last second before he stops.

“That’s it,” Joost affirms, getting your hair out of the way for you as you try to catch your breath.

He sits beside you, looking down at your face before he squishes it.

You chuckle, “What was that for,”

“You look pretty like that. Did you change your hair?” He asks softly, and you find his genuine curiosity cute.

“No, I don’t think so,”

He nods, “You good to keep going?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” You’re quick to reply, eager to give back to him, make him feel as good as he did you.

You reach out your hand to touch his face, as Joost leans down to kiss you. You hand slides down his chest, until you palm his cock him over his boxers, getting an idea of just how hard he is.

“Can you-” You say, cutting the kiss, “Can you sit on the bed,”

Joost nods, leaning backwards, against the headboard; you crawl over to his side before positioning yourself on top of him, his hands immediately coming to rest on your hips.

“There we go,” He smiles up at you as you trace your fingers along his face, just admiring how pretty he looks from this angle. “You drive me fucking crazy,”

“Do you say this to every girl?” You joke, narrowing your eyes— or at least, you think you’re joking, using humor as a shield to hide your buried insecurities. Constantly doubting the possibility that he could have actual feelings towards you, that you’re not just another girl to him,

“What?” He looks at you in genuine confusion, not following the joke. He’s always hinted the insecurity in your words, and really, it frustrates him. Countless times has Joost tried to convince you otherwise, to make you trust him but in the end, it always ends in a fight. “Y/n, there’s not another girl,”

Yeah right. “Yeah I know. Anyways”

You raise yourself up slightly, moving forward until you’re directly over his cock; you take the base in your hands, aligning it with your entrance— and just like that, Joost drops the topic, like he’s done a million times before, not wanting to kill the mood.

You glance at him, making sure he’s ready, before sliding onto his cock; you gasp, the pads of Joost’s fingers pressing harder into your skin, the feeling of shared pleasure overtaking the hurt and guilt in both of you.

You move slowly at first, trying to feel every inch of him, get used to his size after so long. Joost pulls you closer by your waist, placing pecks all over your collarbones, where the necklace he once got you, jingles the more you pick up the pace.

“Fu-ck,” You whisper, “It feels sso good,”

His hand glides over your hair, comforting you. “I know,” He says quietly, breathing hot against your neck.

You let soft moans fall from your lips, grabbing his shoulder for support, your nails biting into his skin. He sucks in a breath, groping your tits as you feel his wet kisses litter your neck. You try to bounce faster on him, desperate to relieve the pressure between your hips, while still holding onto him, not wanting the moment to end. You gently pull him away from where he is, buried in your neck, just craving to see his face. His blue eyes gaze back at you, soft and brimming with vulnerability, something you’ve never seen before in him, not at a moment like this, at least.

You don’t speak, overwhelmed by all the emotions you’re experiencing. You wish you could scream at him for how he treated you, blaming him for the situation you’re in, even though you’re just as bad; but then again, looking at him now, staring into his eyes, you can’t shake the inescapable feeling that you’ll always love him, that one way or another, he’ll always hold a special place in your heart.

Instead, you lean forward, wrapping him in some sort of a hug, maybe because you’re growing tired, maybe because hugging him is all you need right now, hot tears brimming in the corners of your eyes.

Joost holds you tight, taking it upon himself to continue as he senses how increasingly tired you’re getting. His first thrust into you, coaxes you to outright gasp, placing both hands on the headboard now. You can hear Joost mutter a few incoherent words under his breath, pushing his cock into you at a speed that makes your brain go numb.

Your whimpers are like music to his ears, urging him to keep going as he wants nothing more than to make you feel good. It’s moments like this when he feels like you’re meant to be with each other, like this could really work, like he can finally tell you he loves you. But later in the night, the guilt always settles back in, reminding him of who he is, of who he can never be for you.

Joost groans, holding you so firmly that his hands are sure to leave marks on your skin.

“Are you close, baby,” He says through gritted teeth, briefly glancing at you, nestled into his neck.

“Yeah,” You say sharply, at the edge of crying with the amount of pleasure you’re feeling.

Joost nods, thrusting into you sloppily yet relentlessly. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting the pleasure consume you as you feel his cock repeatedly on your sweet spot, the sensation mixed with everything else you’ve been feeling, causing tears to flow down your cheeks.

Almost simultaneously, Joost comes undone inside of you, his muttered curses and loud grunts sounding muffled against your ears.

He gives you one last kiss, just under your ear, as his movements come to a halt, his grasp on you loosening.

Exhausted, you barely even move with him still inside of you, as Joost fixes the hair that sticks to your skin. You close your eyes, breathing heavily, trying to cherish as little time as you have left before another argument begins—because the truth is, you both know what’s coming; the unresolved anger, the denial, the hurt, the disappointment; it won’t stay buried for long.

“Can I ask you something,” You ask, head rested on his chest, facing away from him.

You hear him hum, taking it as an answer to keep going,

“Did you… did you miss me at all?” Is all you can ask him, in need of some closure, to at least try and see if he feels any other emotion towards you except for lust.

Joost feels his chest hurt, hearing the pure vulnerability and doubt in your voice; “Of course I did,”

I love you, that’s what he wants to say; but he just can’t get the words out.

Your lips curve into a faint smile. You allow yourself to trust him for just a moment, believe that his words are true for once and feel the comfort that comes with that thought. His fingers gently run through your hair, and you let the silence between you linger.

For now, you can almost convince yourself that nothing is wrong, that everything is as it should be.

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a/n: if this ain’t me 😂😂😂

anyways THANK YOU if you read this far!!!!!! this is honestly one of my fav things i’ve written and i hope u enjoyed it as much as i did <3 happy new years xx

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #joost #joost x reader #joost klein rpf #rpf #nayedoll 💌

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mistressmxggot · 3 days ago

Text

Chapter 6- ✰ Her Property ✰

"𝗦𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂. 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝗳𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿.

"𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗯 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂? 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜'𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗹𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗶𝘀 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵.""

Tags: Masturbation, attempted robbery, physical assault, blood, violence

~Your back hurt. Your head hurt. Your neck hurt. Your heart hurt. Your ego hurt. Everything hurt. You wanted to shower. Shame, sweat, and your own juices clung to your skin. You needed to shower. She was all over you, the feeling of her in and out of the dream.

Her body was ingrained into you, it's all you could remember. It's all you could think about. It was cold and uncomfortable in this cell, yet you were burning hot. This was the absolute worst.

Footsteps began to approach, your heartbeat picking up. There was Rictus, and thankfully he was alone. He opened the door, waiting for you to exit.

"Ms medarda has ordered you to see her."

Worry was added to the other million emotions you were feeling. You sighed.

"Do I have to? She really wants to see me?"

Peering at him, you limped out of the cell. He just stared at you, one eyebrow raised. Well there was your answer. You followed closely behind him, heart beating faster than before. She was probably still angry. Why else would she want to see you the minute you woke up? You just hoped that no other punishment would follow being locked in a cell all night.

The two of you climbed the stairs, both leaving that dreaded basement of imprisonment. You couldn't imagine what else had happened in there. Rictus locked the door behind you. A sigh of relief left your mouth. You'd never wanted to go back in there again.

The walk towards Ambessa's bedroom was just as nerve wracking as the first time you were meant to see her. Rictus knocked on the door, your breath stopping for a moment.

"Come in."

Oh here we go again. There she was, back turned with another glass of wine in her hands. Just please don't kill me. She turned towards you. Rictus had already gone, leaving the two of you alone, unfortunately.

"Your behavior the previous night was unacceptable."

She brought the glass of wine to her lips. Your whole body was on edge. Right to the point. You gulped.

"I know!"

It came out a little more aggressive than you wanted it to. God this was a mess. "Uhm I know....I know I'm sorry."

She hummed, watching you. Her piercing eyes always sent shivers down your spine, and last night's dream definitely didn't help. It felt as if she knew everything you were thinking. It felt as if she was judging every part of you, which she probably was. Angry embarrassment bubbled in your chest.

"I mean you can't expect me to be super happy about this situation."

"Can't I?"

You sighed. Shame crept back onto your skin. She was wrong. You didn't like it here, and you didnt want her.

"Come to me little lamb."

You blinked at her.

"What?" You questioned her. She gave you a weird look.

"I'm sorry...uhm yknow maybe we can make some kind of deal..." You fidgeted as she began to frown. "I just want to go home. Please. You can visit me at the brothel free of charge. I'll give you whatever you want. I- I just want to go home." Ambessa tilted her head back, a smirk appearing on her face. She walked towards you, making your heartbeat pick up.

"Whatever I want?"

Her muscular body approached you, hips swaying seductively.

You backed up, panicking. "I mean within reason." She kept towards, stopping only until you were face to face. You looked up at her.

Her heavy, lustful eyes never left yours.

You felt your body heat up. All you could do was stare at her face. You wondered what her lips would taste like. You looked at the scars on her face and her deep, brown skin.

"You have mistaken your place here child." You snapped back to reality.

"Wha- What?"

She laughed. "I bought you. I have done you great services, still you are ungrateful."

Was she serious or was she just joking? What does mean bought you?

"What are you talking about? You stole me from him. You perverted weirdo!"

Her rough hand met your cheek. It knocked the wind out of you, your whole face burning. It should have made you angry, instead it sent heat to your core. Maybe you were the perverted weirdo. Every moment with her was burning, wanting agony.

She let out a frustrated sigh. "Can't you see how much that man despises you? This is a gift. You are free of him, of that brothel."

She snarled, backing away from you. You finally breathed out, still holding your cheek. You thought about what she said as you gazed at her. She looked so hot when angry. Stop it!

"I- I don't know what to say... thank you? I'm sorry?"

She glared at you. "Leave. Go out somewhere. I don't want to see that sorry, whiny face any longer."

Embarrassment took over you, your face becoming red. Were you just something for her to pity? Was this all just a random act of kindness she did in the moment? Were you just a stupid child to her? You swiftly left the room, your breathing picking up. Why did she make you feel this way? Your emotions were always all over the place because of her. You could never make up your mind, your body always feeling too much.

You were burning hot, once again. Tingling, cramps burned in your abdomen. It traveled down your thighs and up your back. This was the worst, she was the worst.

"Oh god."

You pushed open the door to your bedroom, shutting it firmly behind you. You practically ripped your clothes off. You hurried to the bed, pushing yourself under the covers. She was a plague. She affected your whole body and your mind. God you wanted her so bad. You knew you shouldn't. Your hand ran over your breasts, your fingers brushing over your nipples. Silent moans fell out of your mouth. Her hands were so big, the feeling of them on your skin was all you could remember. What was wrong with you? Your nipples were hard against the blanket. The friction sent sparks through your body. Your hand quickly made it's way into your waistband. You rubbed at your clit, moaning in satisfaction. Your hole twitched, grasping at nothing. You wanted to know what her fingers would feel like. Your middle finger slipped into your dripping cunt. A groan shook your chest. Her thick fingers would pleasure you so much better. Much, much better. You slipped another finger in. It burned, stretching you out. She would be rough, taking exactly what she wanted.

"Oh Ambessa please."

Whines and pleads for her filled the room. Your fingers continued to pump in and out of you. The thought of her was the only thing on your mind, sweat building on your neck and hands. Your rough but sloppy thrusts making your fingers cramp. You felt your orgasm coming strong. You slipped your fingers out and desperately rubbed at your swollen clit. The thought of her body numbed your brain, practically drooling on yourself. Sharp tingles were assaulting your body. Juices squinted onto the bed, your back arching off of it. Your high was so intense, pussy spasming violently.

"Yes yes Ambessa yes!" You mouth fell open, eyes squeezed shut. You continued to rub, only stopping when your orgasm was completely finished and gone. Mind hazy, you felt complete bliss. Ambessa whispered praises to you in your head.

Soft knocks pulled you from the afterglow. Your eyes struggling to open. You squeezed the blanket, pulling it up to your chin.

"May I come in?"

You gulped. "Sure."

Viv crept into your room, her eyes keeping to the floor. She heard it all didn't she? She was dressed up, holding a purse.

"Ms Medarda had ordered us to go out. Get ready, it will be fun."

She still didn't look at you. A heavy sigh left your lips.

"How much did you hear?"

Her cheeks flushed, gaze still on the floor. She giggled to herself,

"I don't think that's important. Get ready, I'll be waiting outside."

This was humiliating. "I'm gonna shower. I'll hurry up."

You hid your hand that you literally just fucked yourself with under the covers.

"Take you time."

With that she left the room, leaving you alone. You stood up, your folds and thighs uncomfortably slick. A shower needed to happen and it needed to happen immediately.

Vivian shut the door. When she heard the shower running, she made her way to Ms Medarda's room. She knocked on the door.

"Come in."

She entered the room, Ambessa writing something at her desk. She turned towards Vivian.

"It's working. She was...well.."

Ambessa raised her eyebrows in amusement. "She was what?"

Vivian laughed. "She was.. touching herself, but she seemed to be calling your name."

Ambessa sighed in accomplishment. This was alot easier than she thought. You were such a naive, lovestruck, little lamb. Such easy prey. Even if you acted rebellious, your spirt was weak and compliant. You would suit her needs perfectly. You were perfect.

"Any details you feel comfortable enough to share?"

Vivian smiled widely. "I believe she was fingering herself. I have to get someone in to clean those sheets." She laughed aloud. Mischeif was all over Ambessa's face. She just had to keep pushing. You were breaking, trailing down a path you couldn't come back from.

"Keep an eye on her. Talk to her. Make her feel comfortable."

Vivian smiled. "Will do."

You dried yourself off, slipping on flowy pants and a tank. You paired it with a jean jacket. There were countless pieces in your closet. They were all still casual, not uppity like Ambessa's wardrobe. You wondered if that was intentional.

Lipgloss and perfume finished the outfit. You didn't know if you needed a purse, so you took one anyway. Viv was waiting outside for you. She smiled when she saw you.

"Let's go." She handed her arm out to you.

The marketplace was better than last time, very busy. You and Viv had talked about so much. She told you about her past jobs, how she met Ms Medarda, and her interests. You told her about similar topics. You decided to not talk about Malik, not really wanting to even think about him. The food was amazing, your favorite being these bread things filled with cheese. Cheese made everything better. Half of the money you spent had to be on food. You had also spent alot on jewelry, probably too much. There were just so many unique pieces. It was getting late, and your feet were tired. Most of the people were gone, the streets becoming more bare. You were just about to ask Viv if you could go when a man approached you.

"Hello ladies, would you like to sample some perfumes? Perfect to attract that lover in your life." Viv glanced at you, your cheeks heating up.

"Y'know what, sure."

He handed you a small paper with a scent on it. It was amazing and you needed it. Goodness, how much money were you spending?

"I want it. I need it" Viv's eyebrows knotted in worry.

"It's a little expensive."

You scoffed. "Yeah this slightly overpriced perfume is totally gonna put her in debt. Hand me your purse."

Viv reluctantly handed it over. You rummaged counting the amount you needed. The man stared at you.

"Here you go." He handed you the perfume, taking the money a little to quick, to count it.

"Let's go home. I can't spent anything else." The two of you began to head off.

"Wait."

The man grabbed your wrist. You glared at him, the action making you uncomfortable.

"I believe you miscounted."

You frowned. "I thought I-" You rummaged through Viv's purse again, this time the man grabbed the handle. You looked up at him, confused. Viv approached him.

"Please unhand-" A gasp left your mouth as the man backhanded Viv and pushed her to the ground. You gasped again as he kicked her. Worry and anger made you tense. You tried to snatch the purse from him, only for him to grab your hair and shove you away. He grabbed both of your purses and began to run away.

Your eyes widened as you saw him run right into Rictus. Rictus grabbed the man by the neck, throwing him to the ground. He punched the man, blood splattering onto the ground. You hurried to Viv.

"Are you alright?! Please tell me your alright." She slowly sat up, rubbing her cheek.

"I'm fine. Are you okay? You're not hurt are you?" Her face was filled with worry.

"No I'm fine." You helped her stand up, holding onto her arm.

Soldiers approached the both of you. Rictus ordered the soldiers. "Take them. I'm arresting this man."

The both of you were still very shaken up when you returned. You weren't sure where Rictus had taken the man, and you weren't sure if you wanted to know. When you saw her, Ambessa looked very angry. She hurried over to you. She grabbed your arm, dragging you to her room. You looked back at Viv, who just watched. She slammed the door behind her and you jumped, nervous for what she would say.

"Are you alright? What did he do to you?"

"I'm fine. He just riled us up. He hit Viv and he kicked her."

Ambessa rolled her eyes. "Did he hurt you?"

You glared at her. "I said I'm fine. He just pushed me, but he hurt Viv."

She gulped in anger, turning aggressively away from you. Anxiety came over you once again.

"What are you going to do to him?"

You heard her laugh. "What I see fit. He touched something that didn't belong to him."

Your body began to heat up.

"I don't belong to anyone, but I didnt know you cared about me like that."

She turned back towards you, a smirk on her face. She came towards you. You felt your heart beat faster.

"Not a bright little lamb are you? You do belong to me, and I'll make sure anyone that lays their hands on you is dealt with."

She came closer, her chest slightly pressing into you. The heat in your body traveled to your groin, a shaky breath leaving your mouth.

"You'll make sure?"

"For you? Always."

Your lips involuntarily turned into a slight smile. You stared into her piercing, golden eyes. You should go. You gasped as she came closer, pressing herself into you. Her hand firmly grasped the back of your neck, the other on the low of your back.

Her hand was so warm, so big, possessive. It made your cunt twitch. She leaned down, her lips so close to yours. You closed your eyes, waiting. Her lips slightly brushed against yours, the feathery touch making your breath stop.

A chunk of time passed. You opened your eyes, eyebrows pushed together. She stared at you, whispering softly against your lips.

"Do you want something little lamb?"

You whimpered and closed your eyes once more. You messily pressed your lips against her. They were just as soft as you imagined. Her hand gripped your neck harder, her tongue pushing into your mouth. She tasted so good, better than you imagined, sweet. Everything about her was sweet, or maybe more saccharine. The feeling of her thick tongue tasting your mouth only turned you on more. She sucked on your lips before pulling away. You whimpered again, looking at her. This was real. What had you done?

She saw the worry and shame on your face and laughed at you.

"Get some rest little lamb. Don't think too much."

You sighed a breath of relief, hurrying out of her room and to yours. You hid under your blankets, only slightly regretting what you did. It wasn't exactly regret, just shame and embarrassment. This is what she wanted. She wanted you to be dumb for her. That kiss was all you were going to get, this was it. You had to distance yourself from her.

"Don't think too much."

What a bitch. This you could do. You could stay away from her. You had to be neutral, pretend you didn't care. She wouldn't get you, you could guarantee that.~

You. Always. Masterlist.

Doing a little pov switch. I promise chapter 7 will come come quicker than this did and boy is it gonna be good.

Taglist: @maaaaaaaaaaari , @ivorydevil , @trizxyp , @ambessaswifey , @randomstuffthatdontmakesense , @simplyxwwww , @last-dropsevi , @vffantasy, @fruitfulfashion , @trexsuit

Lmk to be added.

#ambessa medarda #arcane #arcane ambessa #ambessa #ambessa league of legends #ambessa medarda x reader #ambessa x reader #ambessa smut #ambessa x you

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viasdiary · 2 days ago

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☆ poolside convo (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ word count: 1.7k

☆ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, not proofread

☆ loosely inspired by "self control" by frank ocean, main character is on vacation in hawaii and leaves her summer lover behind

☆ this is my first fic ever!! some inspo from @jjkbambi @raekensluver @burnforyou enjoy!!

the golden glow of the setting sun shining through the palm trees bathes you in an amber light, painting the most beautiful picture you’ve ever seen. luigi being close to you surely made it even better.

the soft light of the pool hit him from underneath just right, highlighting his toned body and his handsome face, peppered with freckles here and there.

sitting next to him by the edge of the pool, your legs dangling in the water, you both laugh about all the dumb stuff you guys did together this past summer.

wearing a stupid grin on his face, he adds

“and remember that time you got so drunk you threw up in the hot tub?” you playfully push his shoulder. “yeah, i’d rather not.” he looks at you, his perfect smile still plastered on his face. “you know, this summer really was great. i’m not just saying that either.” he says.

his smile drops a little when he realizes he’s speaking in the past tense. in that moment, it hits both of you that summer is finally over. it’s early august, and you’ll be back home by the end of the week. you’ll be back in school before you know it, and it’ll be a while before you see each other again, if you even see each other again at all.

the both of you would rather not dampen the mood with that idea, so you talk around it, even though the sadness is heavy in the air. your eyes shift between his face, his mouth, and his little freckles here and there. he looks so beautiful.

“hey, you alright?” he asks tenderly. you place your hand on the middle of his chest and press your lips to his. he parts his lips into the kiss before you pull away. you swore you weren’t going to make tonight sad, but before you know it, the words fall from your lips.

“i’m going to miss you so much,” you say, barely a whisper.

he furrows his thick eyebrows together and looks you in your eyes. you pull your legs out of the water and fully face him.

“i wish things could stay this way forever. it’s only been a couple of months, but you’ve slowly become, like ,one of my favorite people, and it hurts me so bad to know that in another couple of months it’ll be like there was nothing between us at all,”

you were so scared to lose him, and even though he insisted you guys could make long distance work, you knew better. he places his hand on the back of your neck and pulls you into another kiss. he kissed you hard this time, hungrier. as he broke the kiss, he whispered into your lips.

“i care about you so much, and i’d do anything to make this work.” he continued to hold you close, his forehead pressed against yours. the warmth of his breath mingled with the warm night air, and you felt your heart racing.

you wanted to believe him, to trust that somehow you could make this work even with the distance and whatever else came with it. "i know you mean that," you whispered back, your voice catching slightly. "but how? we'll be in different states, different schools. our lives are going in totally separate directions."

he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "we'll figure it out. i’ll call you every night. i'll visit you on breaks. we can make plans for next summer."

you smiled sadly, wanting so badly to share his optimism. "it won't be the same."

"no," he agreed, "it won't. but that doesn't mean it can't be perfect for now." you ran your hands up his thigh. you’d really rather not get too emotional tonight.

“you’re right, lu. i trust you, so please don’t make me regret it." you looked at his pretty face, his concerned expression. the corners of your lips slightly turned upwards, threatening to curl into a full smile. he sensed your shift in mood and gave you another dumb grin.

“god, look at us getting all sad on vacation,” he said, chuckling lightly.

“we gotta stop.” he adds, smiling.

you look at him, smiling sweetly. he looked so handsome with the sunset casting a warm glow on his features. you traced your fingers along his jawline, savoring the feeling of his skin beneath your touch.

"i love you," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

luigi's eyes widened for a moment, then softened. he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours. "i love you too," he murmured against your mouth before capturing it in a deep, passionate kiss.

the world seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of his body pressed against yours. your fingers tangled in his curls as his hands roamed your back, pulling you impossibly closer. when you finally broke apart, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours.

"see?" he said with a soft smile. "we've got something special here.

you begin to giggle a little bit.

“no, seriously, we need to make tonight count. this is the last night of a fucking lit summer, and i wanna keep that energy going." he’s also giggling by the time he gets the words out. you study him, his strong jawline, the small freckle on his right cheek, the pronounced bridge of his nose, his perfect teeth framed by his perfect lips.

he looks so hot sitting there, his head slightly tilted back as he laughs. you want to fuck him so badly.

you bite your lip, remembering all the nights you’d shared with him this summer.

without hesitation, you slide onto his lap, straddling him at the edge of the pool.

his laughter fades as he looks up at you, his eyes darkening with want.

"oh yeah?" you say, your voice low and teasing. "and how exactly do you propose we keep that energy going?"

luigi's hands slide up your thighs, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

"i've got a few ideas," he murmurs, pulling you closer.

you grind your hips against his, eliciting a soft groan from him.

"care to demonstrate?" you whisper in his ear, trailing soft kisses down the side of his neck.

“god, you feel so good moving on top of me like that,” he moans as you buck your hips, feeling him harden beneath you. he grips your thighs as you move. he kisses the crook of your neck, the heat from his breath making your whole body shiver.

you run your fingers through his curls and grind down harder. he pulls you in for another deep kiss, and the two of you moan into each other. he feels so fucking good, his dick hardening beneath the thin fabric of his shorts. you want him inside you.

"are we really gonna do this by the pool?" he asks, smiling against your lips.

"god, some things really never change," he adds, beginning to untie your bikini top.

he eagerly removes your skimpy top and begins kissing his way down your neck, stopping to suck and nibble at your collarbone. you throw your head back, giving him better access. his hand reaches up to cup your breast, and you moan as his thumb circles your nipple.

he takes the other in his mouth, and his tongue swirls around it before he sucks hard, drawing a loud gasp from you.

"luigi!" you cry, arching your back. he continues sucking and teasing with his tongue, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. you grind down on him, needing more friction. you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, and you're aching for release.

"please, baby, i need you," you whisper, gasping at the feeling of him kissing your chest.

you feel his cock pressing against you, and you can't wait any longer. you pull his shorts and underwear down just enough, exposing his throbbing cock. you quickly slip off your bottoms and straddle him once again, his tip rubbing against your throbbing clit.

"fuck, lu, you're so big," you moan, taking his length in your hand and stroking him.

"you're so fucking eager," he chuckles smugly, watching as you press his length to your slick entrance and slide his cock deep inside you, inch by inch.

"jesus fuck, baby, you feel so good," you cry, starting to bounce up and down. he grips your hips tightly, guiding your movements.

"so do you," he breathes, thrusting into you. "you're so fucking tight."

you pick up the pace, slamming down onto his cock over and over again. his hands resting on your hips, helping guide you up and down. you can feel him stretching you out with each thrust.

"i'm gonna cum," you whimper, feeling yourself getting closer.

"you're doing so fucking good for me, amore," he groans, thrusting deeper.

you grind down on him, desperate for release.

"fuck, luigi, i'm so close," you gasp, the pleasure building inside you. he feels your slick cunt gripping him so tightly, and he knows he can't last much longer either.

"cum for me," he groans, thrusting harder and faster.

" 's too much, lu!" you whine.

"you've taken worse, baby," he replies, driving himself into you more intensely.

"fuck, luigi," you whimper, overstimulated.

"god yes, amore, cum for me," he moans, his voice deep and husky.

you can't hold back any longer. you cum hard, your body shaking with pleasure. he feels your walls clenching around him, and he can't hold back anymore. with a loud moan, he spills himself inside you, filling you with his warm cum.

"fuck," you both groan, collapsing into each other.

the two of you lay there for a while, trying to catch your breath. you can't help but smile as the euphoric waves crash over you. he kisses your cheek softly.

"so, was that enough to keep the energy going?" he asks, a smile spreading across his face.

you can't help but laugh. "god, i love you," you say, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"i love you too."

"i'm going to miss you so much, amore," he says, holding you close.

"i'm gonna miss you too, luigi," you say, wrapping your arms around him.

#luigi mangione smut #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione #free luigi #luigi mangione x yn

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gunsatthaphan · 2 days ago

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.₊ ⟡ ݁ 🏆 2024 Top 10 🏆 ⟡ ݁₊ .

hello! I got tagged by a few people for various kinds of tier-list-posts for this year, so instead of making separate posts that will probably end up being repetitive, I decided to combine them all into one Top 10 list of my personal favorites in 2024. My watchlist was not very lengthy this year, partly because I was busy with work and partly because the quality of many shows was not to my liking. I started a bunch of things and dropped them shortly after, which also included more widely popular ones, for which I did not share the general public opinion. In the course of that, I have become more hesitant to share my thoughts online, as with every mildly critical POV came a number of anonymous people breathing down my neck. Which isn't new for me but by the end of the year I have gotten tired and was debating whether or not I should make this post but then I decided that this is my blog and idgaf about butthurt anons lol. I'm trying to carry this mindset into the new year.

So here is my Top 10 of BL/GLs that I have started and finished this year. A very special shoutout goes to The Heart Killers which owns my ass 100% and I totally would have added it but since we're only on ep6, I feel like it wouldn't be fair to include it in this list - also because I sort of consider it a category of its own lol.

I had no trouble picking this as my number one, simply because it's an outstanding production with an S-tier cast and a very powerful and well executed script. I've always loved Up but Poom took the cake for me in this, I was absolutely starstruck by him and his screen presence, he's a big surprise for me and has become one of my personal favorites this year in terms of acting. I could fill books with reasons why I love this show.

I had to include this even though it's not finished but I'm really blown away by it. The GLs I previously watched were okay but did not strike me quite as much as this one. I knew I would love Film and Namtan together from the moment they got paired as they're both insanely skilled and I was not disappointed. They understand the assignment 100% and so does Snap25 and it really shows. I'm obsessed.

Speaking of masterpieces, this is another one. It didn't get much attention sadly, mostly because TayNew did not deliver the dynamic the general BL population was hoping for. Their loss. This is an amazing production from start to finish, the 4 of them are the best possible casting choice for their characters, the found family trope is one of the best I've seen and especially TayNew delivered another gem with this one. I shall never doubt them again. This is how you do bromance. Certain other shows could never. send tweet.

Ah yes. No year goes by without the obligatory Mame guilty pleasure lol. What can I say. FortPeat as annoying southern scuba boy meets snobby whiny writer on a beach. How can I look away. I genuinely enjoyed this, it feels like the story was written for them, it's a perfect fit for them and their range I think plus I'm glad that Aya finally found a GL partner that matches her energy lol. I loved both couples and even though the plot did lack sometimes, you can count on MMY to serve S-tier chemistry no matter what. A+.

This is my personal hidden little gem, a small production with not a ton of attention, let alone good reviews but sometimes those are the best ones. The beginning was a bit slow but it quickly picked up. I decided to give it a watch mostly because I was curious about Charles' followup bl role and ended up getting very attached lol. So much softness and deep emotions and mutual healing that happened here and that I appreciated a lot. This was also my first Taiwanese BL in I think 3 years(?) I loved it.

I was very excited to watch this and see what Change 2561 came up with after Pit Babe and even though I'm not the biggest fan of cooking plots, I ended up enjoying this a lot! I've been a SailubPon and GarfieldBenz connoisseur since Pit Babe and it was so nice to see them in the spotlight in this. I saw a bunch of people drop it because they found Plawan annoying but I disagree lol. I had a very good time.

I initially tuned into this for Seng and Best, just to see what they're up to these days and it ended with me eating the whole thing up lol. The unapologetic approach to topics like sex education mixed with the sweet love stories that came with it is one of the things I appreciated + enjoyed a lot. I was a big fan of Peak and Thanwa and would definitely watch another show with Seng and Best as I really love their dynamic. Latte and Almond had a good start but fell a bit flat towards the end. Still a very deserving 7th place for me.

I was sooo excited for this and overall it did not disappoint, though I think it could have been better in some aspects. The comprehensive vibe was juvenile but not in a bad way. I anticipated gmmtv would choose a trope-y plot for their first GL to test the waters and it seems they succeeded. The main reason I put it as number 8 is the AylinLuna side story which I very strongly disliked for multiple reasons I won't get into here. But MilkLove did a fantastic job and this was a very nice debut for them. Thumbs up!

This might be the most unexpected gem for me this year. I started watching it because I was bored and nothing else was on and I was curious to see Dunk in his first solo gig. Surprisingly he did a big leap forward with his acting in this and White was by far my favorite character. Lune on the other hand was my least favorite which was another surprise as I previously loved Phuwin as Peem in We Are so I'm not sure why Lune was so unlikable. But anyway this was a very nice combination of different cute little stories, LuneStar were very trope-y but White saved a great deal of it by being the third wheel lol, plus the BL sideplot was pure sugar. I'm sad we won't see Ryu and Java together again and I resent them not giving us that well deserved WhiteIvy endgame but overall I enjoyed this a lot!

Never thought I would put a Siwaj production in my Top 10 but I'm tired of pretending I didn't secretly love this lmao. So much chaos but so much fun. It's a typical ensemble show, mostly aimed at a domestic audience with lots of slapstick and horseplay comedy, but I ended up being quite fond of all the couples. The main crystallization for me was that this is PondPhuwin's territory, this is the type of show they belong in imo. They excel at this kind of comedy and they seemed very careless and joyful in this, which I enjoyed and which made them a decent main couple. The QToey plot was a bit draggy and even though it's a big cast, 16 episodes were not necessary, which is why it gets the 10th place. But overall it still deserves to be in this list.

Thanks again to everyone who tagged me; in this and other things over the year, I appreciate you thinking of me!! 🥺🧡 I didn't manage to reply to every tag but know that I see them all and I try to do as many as possible! Also a big thank you and much love to all the lovely people I talked to this year, especially @lattexalmond, @mayalunas @bl-recs-and-reviews and @my-wandering-rabbit, I love and cherish each one of you! 🧡 Happy New Year to everyone who read this far, here's to a kind and successful 2025 with groundbreaking shows lol. I'm hopeful.

xxxx

#happy new year #top 10 #top 10 list #bl dramas #thai bl #gmmtv #my stand in #pluto the series #peaceful property #love sea the series #first note of love #this love doesn't have long beans #knock knock boys #23.5 the series #summer night the series #we are the series

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fandom-lover2 · 2 days ago

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Sacrifices - Pt 3

Word Count - 3549

Part Two

My stomach did a flip, the nausea from the head bonk and blood running down my face worsened by the effects of the groundbridge.

The others carried their charges through the bridge, Smokescreen cradling me close to his chestplates as we exited the portal at a walk.

“The children?” Ratchet exclaimed once he caught sight of us. “What happened?”

The bots moved to place our cylinders onto the catwalk, each releasing the tops and reaching in to pull us out.

Once Smokey had placed he down, Jack was by my side in a moment, taking my face into his hands and turning it so he could see my forehead better. “We need to get you to my mom.” he murmured.

I pushed him away, getting blood on his shirt, my hands dripping with my life force. “I’ll be fine.”

I looked over to Optimus, the last one through the bridge. He was watching me, waiting for me to break. Whether that was emotional or physical, or both, only time would tell. For now, my vision was only a little blurry and the headache manageable.

“Somebody say something.” Ratchet pleaded. No one had the guts or the heart to spill the beans yet.

Bulkhead took one for the team. “Optimus destroyed the Omega Lock.”

“What?” It was barely a whisper, but given his size, we all heard the medic. “You did-”

“What was necessary.” Optimus took over. “There was no time for another prolonged battle. Not with Earth in imminent danger.”

“So you destroyed the only device in any universe capable of restoring our home?” Ratchet sounded wrecked. He staggered back a few steps, catching himself on his consol behind him. “Optimus, we needed that.”

Hearing his voice shiver brought tears to my eyes. Yeah, he was grumpy and mean, but he had been through hell. And he did not deserve this.

“You weren’t there Doc.” Smokescreen jumped in to defend. “And it’s not your place to second guess a battle field decision.”

Ouch, even in the heat of the moment that was a low blow. And completely uncalled for. Ratchet had every right to question what happened. It was his home world. And never mind that, he was still a member of the team. The most important member, I would argue. He kept everyone running, kept the base running. Even if he wasn’t there, his opinion mattered.

“It most certainly is!” the medic took a step forward, murder in his optics, and I briefly thought he would attack the younger bot. Instead, he looked Smokescreen up and down like he was less than nothing and took a step back again.

The other bots formed a semi-circle around Ratchet, and the other human kids decided to step closer. I was happy to stay where I was, but Jack nudged me along.

“There had to be another way!” Ratchet insisted, sounded closer and closer to losing it.

“It wasn’t that simple Ratchet.” Jack spoke up, and for good measure I made some space between us in case the old medic did decide to swing.

“Megatron was using the Omega Lock to attack the Earth.” Raf added.

“Optimus saved our planet.” Miko chimed in.

“What about our planet?!” Ratchet exploded.

I glanced to Optimus, mentally judging if he’d make it to protect us in time if the Doc did lunge. He wouldn’t.

Thankfully, Ratchet found standing alone to be too difficult and moved to the other side of his work station, needing to use a servo to support himself.

“All of our struggles and energon spilled and countless sacrifices, for nothing!”

“Right decision or wrong, what’s done is done.” Arcee spoke up, ever the realist. And for once I was grateful for the cold hearted truth. “We have another problem on this world. The ‘Cons just changed the rules when the put the humans into play.”

I looked to Optimus, and he was still watching me.

Judge me all you want, I was on Ratchet’s side. Cybertron should have been saved. Not because it deserved it more than Earth, or because I felt like Earth was boomed no matter what happened in this intergalactic war. Cybertron should have been saved because I knew how hard every bot in this room had fought to try save their home, and seeing Ratchet falling apart was worse than any pain losing Earth would entail.

Yes, my parents and all my family would die. Everything would die, every flower and bee and dog and tree, but so would I. I would die with it all and be at peace. Instead, I now had to watch my friend, someone who I knew deep down cared for me and I him, watch him spiral.

I couldn’t imagine all he had seen, what he had lost, all the lifeless eyes he had to look into and empty promises he’d had to make. He was supposed to be home, not stranded on this pile of rock. He deserved it.

Optimus deserved it. He didn’t show it, but he had been hopeful. He had been desperate. He was willing to do all it took to get his home back, for his people. And now, he had let them down. He had to look into the optics of his oldest friend and tell him his home was gone, for good. He had to look at his team, each still so willing to follow him, and know his decision alone had cost them their home. And all because of us.

I knew Optimus too well, knew his outburst weeks ago had been his way of protecting himself, of trying to protect me. This sacrifice, his home world, he shouldn’t have made it. His world should have come first. No human would have chosen another planet over Earth. But he did, and now we would all pay the price.

I jumped, having missed the incoming call tone and only hearing Agent Fowler growl out his usual “Prime!” Did this guy ever take a freaking chill pill? And why was his timing always so shit.

“The Pentagon is preparing to go Def-Con One. I need to know what we’re dealing with?”

We all moved closer to the monitors, me stumbling a little as my vision blacked out for a moment.

“To what do you refer, Agent Fowler?” Optimus asked for all our sakes.

“Maybe you should step outside and see for yourself.”

Well that was a very ominous and unhelpful answer. Judging from the headphones and background from the video feed, he was in his chopper and probably on his way here anyway. Why didn’t he just tell us?

“Ratchet, watch the children.” Optimus ordered, not looking away from the screens.

Well if that wasn’t the worst punishment to give the medic right now, I didn’t know what was. That was a nasty decision, benching Ratchet after already keeping him out of what happened back on Cybertron. And it wasn’t like we were who the old bot wanted to see right now.

Ratchet didn’t say a word, his silence an answer as the Autobots followed Optimus into the base so they could use the huge lift to get to the roof of the base.

Once they had disappeared from view, Jack turned to me. “We really need to look at that.”

In too much pain to fight him, I let Jack guide me to a seat and waited as he pulled out the first aid kit.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Ratchet watching us, his concern poorly masked despite his rage.

“Optimus made the right decision.” Raf spoke up softly, he and Miko seated near us and huddled together. No doubt they were replaying what they’d seen of Cybertron over and over in their minds. Going to another planet could be a lot to take in.

“No he didn’t.” Jack froze, the alcohol soaked gauze hovering inches from the cut in my forehead. I made sure to keep my eyes down, not making eye contact with anyone.

Apparently I pissed Jack off enough, cause he just scoffed and dropped the first aid stuff down, storming a few steps away. Guess I was saving myself.

Bending, I picked up the wet gauze and pushed it against where I thought the cut was. I guessed right, because it felt like my face was on fire and I cursed, but kept the disinfectant firmly against my skin.

“Are you serious right now?” Jack demanded, spinning to me with smoke coming out his ears.

“You had your chance to say what you felt, now it’s mine.” I shot back, pulling the gauze away and finding it red. I began to repair another wad and poured some of the rubbing alcohol on it.

“Earth! The Earth! The one you live on! The one my mom lives on, your mom lives on! You’re saying Optimus should have just let it be destroyed?”

“You were willing to die to let Optimus use the keys to restore Cybertron, now you change your mind?” I answered, keeping my tone loose. I wondered if I was going to go into shock from blood loss soon, or if there’d be some kind of concussion effects coming in soon.

“That’s different!” Jack screeched. “That was my life, and Miko and Raf’s, against the entire world.”

“It was their entire world!” I finally snapped, standing and spinning to face him, the cotton ball dropping from my hand.

I pointed, no particular direction intended. “It was them, their world, millions of good and innocent lives. Humans had our chance, and we fucked this planet over. And are doing nothing to try change that. So yeah, I think Cybertron deserved a second chance. Optimus deserved a second chance.”

Jack and I stared one another down, both too stubborn to back down. Which was honestly stupid because there wasn’t even a valid fight to be had here. Arcee was right, what was done was done. Whether we agreed on what Optimus should or shouldn’t have done didn’t matter. It was over.

“Y/n.” Ratchet called, sounding a lot softer than I expected him to. I glanced over my shoulder to the medic, and found he had reached over and was holding up the first aid kit.

He was right. Fighting this fight was pointless, not when there was so much worse happening outside.

Walking over to him, I reached into the bag rested on his servo and dug in for more supplies. With his gentle guidance, I managed to clean and cover my wound. It would do, for now. Until we could figure out where to go from here.

I had just secured the last stripe of tape when the entire base shook. I almost fell over, barely catching myself on the railing. Ratchet reached out, wrapping a servo around me to help balance me.

“Is that an Earthquake?” Raf asked, having landed on his butt.

I looked over, thankful to find the others were ok.

The base shook again, and then there was the sound of explosions and blaster fire. The base shook again, dust and loose pebbles from the stone ceiling raining down.

“What is going on?” Miko asked, clinging to Jack.

Finally, after about another minute of shakes and explosions, the other bots finally returned.

“What is going on up there?” Ratchet asked.

“The Decepticons have invaded Jasper.” Optimus revealed.

It felt like someone knocked the air from my lungs. What? Decepticons, here? So much for all my big talk. I was concerned about my family and wanted to high tail it out of base and protect them.

“Fowler’s thinking he can hold them off.” Bulkhead added, like I had time to give a shit about that old weirdo.

My mom was in danger. My cat was in danger! I needed to bring them here, safe from the Decepticons.

And what the hell was the agent thinking? One helicopter from the Vietnam war wasn’t going to hold off the entire Decepticon army. Hell, he hadn’t even been able to hold off against Starscream.

“Well, nice knowing him.” Miko deadpanned.

“Prime!” The agent spoke through the base’s speakers. Oh, so he wasn’t dead yet. “Reinforcements just arrived.”

“Agent Fowler,” Optimus started, sounding alarmed and looking about ready to head back out to the fight. All to save more humans. “your military cannot prevail against the-”

“You didn’t think I was going to let Team Prime all the fun, did ya?” reinforcements interrupted through the radio.

I couldn’t stop the smile that broke across my face when I placed the voice, looking to Miko and then Bulkhead.

“It’s Jacky.” Bulk laughed.

“Wheeljack? But how did you-”

“Picked up a strange energy surge.” The wrecker interrupted the Doc, his faceplates appearing on the screen as he opened a video stream to the base. “Hope you don’t mind the company.”

Ratchet actually smiled. “No. It’s just that after everything, well…”

“We’re still on the same team Doc. Always will be.”

Now I really wanted to know what happened during their solo mission for such a change between them to occur.

“Will he be ok up there by himself?” I asked, glancing up to the bases roof.

“Jacky’s been through worse.” Bulkhead reassured, but I didn’t miss the hesitation in his voice.

I glanced back to the bots, but found one missing. Optimus had walked away from the group, his back to us as he faced the wall. He only got like this when he had a plan, a plan he knew no one would like.

“Ratchet,” he began, and every else turned to look at him. “prepare to bridge everyone out of here.”

“What?” my blood ran cold.

“We’re abandoning the base?” Ratchet questioned.

“The base is lost.” Optimus began, talking quickly as he turned to us. “Wheeljack and Agent Fowler can only buy us time to escape. Bumblebee, Rafael, you will depart first.”

Wait, what the hell. “Optimus, can we just talk about this?”

“You’re splitting us up?” Raf spoke over me.

“Shouldn’t we stick together?”

“All for one and one for all.” Jack and Miko added respectively.

“We must disperse to avoid capture until we can regroup and launch a counter attack.” Optimus answered. “Survival is our only priority now.”

Ok, what he was saying made sense, but abandon the base? This place had become more of a home to me than my real home over the past year. We couldn’t just walk away from it. Everything they had was here. Energon supplies, Ratchet’s medical equipment, our couch. This was home.

Miko’s drawing pad on the table, Raf’s video games, my textbooks, Jack’s sleeping bag he kept meaning to take home. Our lives were in this hollowed mountain, our memories. We couldn’t just… I couldn’t just… they couldn’t just walk away.

“Optimus,” I tried, but there were no words to say. He was right. There was no other choice.

I turned to Jack. There were always such few times when neither of us had been there to protect our younger human friends. Now, they would be alone. With their guardians, but alone. How would they survive? They were too young to be alone, too young look after themselves.

Do we disobey Optimus, or do we let them go?

Neither of us liked option two, but option one was the safest, in the short term.

“Take some food and cash.” I spoke, and Jack and I moved in unison. Grabbing their assigned backpacks, I checked they were still stocked with emergency snacks and water, and that the miniature first aid kits were still inside. Pulling out my wallet from my own backpack, I divided all the cash I had between the two, while Jack added a blanket to each. When they were ready, I watched as Raf and Miko secured them to their backs.

“I’m scared.” Raf whispered as I knelt before him, adding his laptop to his backpack.

I smiled, forced as I fought tears. “We’re gonna be ok. Bee’s got your back. Just stick close to him and do as he says, and we’ll all see each other soon.”

I crushed him in a hug, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Then, he hugged Miko and Jack and raced down the stairs, Bumblebee transforming and opening his door for the kid.

The rest of us descended the stairs, watching as the yellow scout raced through the bridge Ratchet had opened.

Ratch changed the co-ordinates and nodded to Bulk, the green muscle transforming.

“Time to go.” Jack told Miko, wrapping her in a hug.

“I don’t want to go.” she confessed, holding on tightly, reaching out a hand for me to join the hug.

“We’ll all be together soon. Just do me a favor and listen to Bulkhead.” I pleaded.

She agreed, and jumped up into his cab.

More rocks dislodged from the ceiling, raining down in larger chunks now. “We haven’t much time.” Optimus warned.

Arcee transformed, and with a final fist pump, Jack slipped on his backpack and helmet, climbing onto Arcee.

“Catch you on the flip side.”

Miko and Bulkhead rolled through, and after confirmation of the location change, Arcee and Jack went next.

I shouldered my own backpack, watching as Smokescreen saluted Optimus before he transformed and went through the bridge.

Now, it was just Optimus, Ratchet and I.

Ratchet began rerouting the bridge again, while Optimus took a few steps towards the portal. Another quake shook the base and I reached over to hold onto him for support.

Optimus silently knelt down, offering a hand for me to climb onto. Then he rose to his height once again, looking down at me.

I wondered where Ratchet would send us. Somewhere on the continental US obviously. Maybe northern California? It would need to be somewhere a big rig like him could blend in. Maine has a lot of logging. Or Indiana.

“What about you?” Ratchet asked, turning to face us.

My heart jumped in my chest. What did he mean ‘what about Optimus’?

All three of us were going through that damn Bridge, now!

I looked up at Optimus, and my heart dropped. He was now staring straight at the portal.

“Optimus?”

“I will ensure that the Decepticons cannot follow.”

“No.” I felt my chest tighten, my eyes stinging. I saw Ratchet silently gasp beside me, but I kept my gaze on my guardian. “Optimus, no.”

Ratchet seemed to accept his response, beginning to walk towards us.

“Optimus, you can’t.”

Wordlessly, without so much as a glance down at me, Optimus handed me over to Ratchet, who held me firmly around my stomach, his other hand coming up as a shield beneath me.

“Let me go.” I struggled against Ratchet, but he did not stop his approach to the Bridge.

“No! Let! Me! Go!” I slammed my fists against Ratchet’s servo, wiggling with all I had.

Ratchet tightened his grip so it hurt, but I still fought.

“Don’t do this! Optimus!”

Ratchet kept me from seeing his red and blue form, pulling me closer to his chassis when he stopped at the portal.

Yes! He was going to fight Optimus, make him change his mind.

“I… never imagined it would end like this.”

And then he continued to the swirling mass of energy.

“No!” Tears streamed down my face, my throat burned as I screamed.

And just before we entered the portal, I heard a quiet, “Goodbye, Little Star.” and then we were swallowed by the green.

Ratchet held me tightly as he walked through, gait unwavering as he headed to the other end. When we emerged, Ratchet placed me down rather quickly, and I took off as fast as I could towards the remaining portal.

If I could just-

The portal closed just as I would have made it.

“Radio him!” I ordered, turning to Ratchet.

The medic sat heavily onto the ground, servos coming up to cradle his helm.

“Ratchet, call him!”

“He’s dead!” he roared back, face plates twisted into rage as he stared back at me.

No. No I could feel it, in my bones, in soul, Optimus was not dead. He couldn’t be.

“He’s… dead.” Ratchet repeated, softer this time, more emotion. He dropped his helm with a sigh, turning away from me before transforming into the ambulance.

“No.” I tried to sound sure, but it was so broken. “Ratchet please.” He remained silent, still. “Ratchet!” I screamed, dropping to my knees.

“No.” I tried to reassure myself. He wasn’t dead, Optimus wasn’t dead.

More tears gathered and fell as I wrapped my arms around myself, my nails digging into my skin.

Optimus couldn’t be dead. There was still so much we needed to do, to talk about. I needed to tell him I forgave him for what he said. I needed to tell him I didn’t hate him. That even if I meant nothing to him, I still needed him to know I don’t hate him. That no matter how hard he tried to push me away, I still cared about him so much. I needed to-

And then, like a wet cloth to the face, I realized I would never see his face again, hear his voice. I would never see Optimus Prime again.

The birds in the tree scattered at the unhuman sound that left me.

Commission Information

Tags: @nyan-toaster

#tfp optimus x reader #tfp optimus prime #tfp optimus #optimus x reader #optimus prime #tfp #transformers prime #transformers x reader #tfp x reader

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mimisempai · 22 hours ago

Text

The angel you are

Summary

Aziraphale takes a reluctant Crowley for a walk in the snow, and Crowley is even more reluctant when he sees Aziraphale throwing himself into the snow to... make an angel. Worst of all, Aziraphale wants Crowley to do the same.

No way.

Unless there's more to this childish gesture.

Notes

Just... you know... them.

On Ao3

Rating G - 653 words

"Angel, remind me why we have to go out in this cold?"

It had snowed heavily into the night and the cottage and everything around it was covered in a thick white blanket.

Crowley pulled the red scarf tighter around his neck and shivered as the angel replied, "After spending the last few days feasting, we could both use a breath of fresh air. So stop grumbling and come walk with me. I promise you won't regret it."

Aziraphale held out his gloved hand to Crowley, who took it, but again made his displeasure kno

After only a few yards, they were in the middle of the orchard when Aziraphale suddenly stopped and exclaimed, letting go of Crowley's hand, "There! This is perfect."

"Perfect for... Angel! What's wrong with you?!"

Aziraphale had just let himself fall onto his back in the snow, flailing his arms and legs.

Then the angel carefully got to his feet and, after brushing the snow from his clothes under the demon's stunned gaze, pointed to the ground and finally replied, "I made an angel."

Watching the shape of the angel in the snow, Crowley shook his head.

"What was going through your head?"

Instead of answering, Aziraphale nudged the demon lightly and said, "Now it's your turn."

Crowley shook his head vehemently.

"Out of the question. Nope. I will not lie down in the snow."

"For me?"

Crowley swallowed, because when Aziraphale took that tone and looked at him like that, with his eyes shining and his cheeks rosy with cold, he knew he couldn't resist. After thousands of years, he still couldn't.

Aziraphale stepped forward and planted a light kiss on his lips before continuing in the same tone, "Please, indulge me, my dear."

That was the coup de grâce, and with a sigh, Crowley dropped to the snow and, at the angel's urging, made the same movements he had just made.

Aziraphale then helped him to his feet, having dusted the snow off Crowley's clothes himself, took his hands in his own and kissed him before saying, with shining eyes, "Thank you."

"Can you tell me now why we had to do this?"

Aziraphale turned to the two angel shapes side by side on the snow and said quietly, "To show you."

"Show me what?"

Aziraphale released Crowley's hand and, removing his glove, raised his hand and placed it gently on the demon's cheek, caressing it tenderly with his thumb.

He said softly, "To show you that you're still an angel."

Crowley swallowed, his throat suddenly tightening, unable to respond as Aziraphale continued, "There is no need for white wings, for gold, for heaven."

The angel's hand slid from the demon's cheek to his chest.

"There you are, still the angel, the star maker who captured my heart in the middle of a starless sky."

Crowley placed his hand on Aziraphale's and asked, his voice slightly hoarse with emotion, "Why today?"

"Let's just say it was spontaneous and because I wanted you to be aware. That I know the angel that you are."

Crowley suddenly remembered.

The courtyard of Job's house.

"I know you."

"You do not know me."

"I know the angel you were."

"The angel you knew is not me."

As if following his train of thought, Aziraphale continued.

"I don't like the idea of an angel I would have had in a memory of naive infatuation. I like the demon Crowley, who is still an angel at heart. I love the angel you are now."

Crowley, unable to find the words, let his body speak and, cupping the Angel's flushed face between his hands, kissed him passionately.

The kiss lasted until they had to pull away to catch their breath. Aziraphale then wrapped his arms around the demon's waist, holding him close, and the two remained entwined for a few more moments, gazing into the snow at the reflection of their angelic silhouettes.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

South Downs cottage series : here

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #South Downs Cottage #Domestic fluff

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sequinsmile-x · 3 days ago

Text

Keep My Hand in Yours

A quiet Saturday morning goes wrong, and the team finding out about her relationship with Aaron is the least of Emily's concerns.

-x-

Hi besties <3

It feels absolutely wild to say that this fic takes me over 2.5 million words of fanfic. 2.5 million words of Hotchniss!!

I'm cooking up a fic to celebrate the milestone (y'all know I love a milestone...I'm a water sign, I'm emotional haha) but for now I just want to say I appreciate every single one of you and all of the comments/kudos etc that you leave on my fics. It truly means the world and I love this little corner of the internet.

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: mild peril, canon typical violence

Words: 4.8k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily wakes up slowly, drawn from sleep by a hand skating up and down her back, warm and newly familiar calluses chased by shivers they created on her bare skin. She groans and buries her face in her pillow, blindly hitting out at Aaron as he chuckles at her.

“Good morning to you too.”

She opens one eye and looks at him, fighting a losing battle against a smile as he captures her hand and kisses her knuckles, “Morning,” she replies, furrowing her brow when she sees he’s dressed in a pair of jeans and a polo shirt she knew had been in her closet, “Where are you going?”

Aaron smiles and leans in to kiss her, his lips stamped against her cheek and then her lips as she turns her head to capture them, “I was going to make you breakfast, but you don’t have any eggs.”

She grumbles and wraps her arm around his neck, pulling him and the warmth that seemed to follow him like a shadow closer to her, “I don’t need breakfast,” she mumbles, kissing him again, “I need you to get back in bed.”

“I’ll only be gone for 30 minutes,” He laughs and pushes some of her hair out of her face. He runs his knuckles down her cheek, the impossible softness of her skin making his chest tight just like it always did. She was everything he always knew she’d be and more, and the four short weeks they’d been together had been worth every painful thing he’d been through to get to her, to them. He swallows thickly to push back down the three words they hadn’t exchanged yet, “Then I’ll come back and cook you breakfast, and then I’ll get back into bed with you.”

She hums, “What time do you have to get back to Jack?”

“He’s with Jess and Roy this weekend,” he says, “So I can stay as long as you’ll have me.”

Emily’s cheeks ache with the smile that spreads across her face, love for him warming her from the inside out, threatening to spill out of her in the safety of her bedroom and his embrace. He’d become her safe space when she came home from Paris, had been the one person who truly understood what it was to put yourself back together after you’d been so brutally torn apart. Bit by bit, all the feelings she’d felt for him, everything she’d stuffed down into the deepest parts of herself ever since Foyet had attacked him, started to make themselves known. She’d loved him for a lot longer than the four weeks she’d had him, had wanted to kiss him years before she’d leant forward one evening in his apartment and stamped her lips against his.

It was early days still, she knew that, but she also knew that this was it, that he was it. With anyone else, she’s sure it would terrify her, that it would have her running as far away as possible, but with Aaron all she wanted to do was run with him. To grab his hand and go wherever life led them both.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Agent Hotchner,” she replies, stamping her lips against his before she lets him go, “You and I both know I’d keep you here forever.”

“And we both know I’d stay,” he smiles at her, and she can’t help but cup his cheek again, her thumb pressed into his dimple as she drags him in for one last kiss, “I should go.”

She hums and wraps her arms around her pillow again, “Don’t be surprised if I fall asleep before you get back.”

He watches as she settles back down, her eyes drifting shut as she sighs contentedly. He’d always known she was beautiful, even when he was still married to Haley. When he looked back on it, he knew it was part of the reason he’d been so cold to her at first. His attraction to her something that poured gasoline on the fire of his mistrust of her, guilt sparking in his gut every time her smile made his chest warm or her laugh had him suppressing a smile. He’d always known she was beautiful, but she’d never been as beautiful as this - laying in her bed, her hair a mess and her face free of make-up. It felt like a privilege, something he wasn’t entirely sure he deserved.

He chuckles as he stands up, “I wouldn’t expect anything else, sweetheart.”

“Shush,” she says, pulling the covers tighter around her shoulders, her smile pressed against them as she breathes in his scent, “I’m sleeping.”

She’s asleep again before he leaves the apartment, lulled to sleep by the residual warmth and safety he’d left behind. She slips in and out of slumber, and finally gets out of bed when she can’t settle any more. She frowns when she sees the time and realises Aaron has been gone for close to an hour, and it makes concern flicker in her gut. She gets out of bed and slips his shirt over her head and walks into the kitchen to get her phone to call him. She furrows her brow when she hears sirens outside, but ignores them as she tries to call Aaron, her concern getting worse when it rings twice before going to voicemail.

She blows out a breath and tells herself that she’s overreacting, that he’s likely at the cashier and paying, that he’d got distracted by picking out flowers for her as he had before. She settles onto the couch and picks up the remote, smiling to herself when she switches it on and sees the local news. She wasn’t one for watching it herself, she thought that there was enough doom and gloom in her life because of her job, but Aaron watched it all the time. She’s about to change the channel, to find one of the reality shows she secretly loves, when the rolling bulletin across the bottom of the screen catches her attention.

Breaking News: Local convenience store held hostage, one known gunman inside.

Time slows down around her, the air thick as she struggles to suck in a breath as she waits for the anchor to say something, to make her feel stupid for worrying and immediately thinking the worst by saying it was a store way across town. When they discuss the story, when they say it’s the store she knows Aaron has gone to, she feels nauseous, her stomach rolling with it as she scrambles for her phone.

He was just going to buy eggs. He was making her breakfast. He was just buying eggs so his gun was still in her safe.

Her thumb lingers over Penelope’s contact in her phone. She knows if she sounds the alarm, if she calls her and asks her to contact everyone else, that she’ll be doing more than letting them know Aaron is in danger. She’ll be letting them know about the relationship none of them knew about yet. They were planning on telling the team soon. Dave was hosting everyone for dinner in a week and that felt like the perfect time, mutual ground to explain to their friends that they were together now.

She shakes off the thought and calls Penelope, knowing she’d much rather deal with all of their questions by herself rather than not have their help.

“Peaches, what are you doing calling so early on a Saturday?”

She blows out a breath and heads towards her bedroom, her phone sandwiched between her ear and her shoulder as she starts to get changed, “Pen, hi. Something’s happened to Hotch.”

___

He spends too long looking at flowers.

He eventually settles on sunflowers, even though he’d bought them for her before, because he knows they are safe for Sergio. The cat may not exactly be his friend, but Emily loved him and therefore Aaron did too. Even if that love was returned in the form of scratches on his chest and two torn-up silk ties.

He’s looking at the eggs when he hears it, when there’s a commotion at the front of the store that distracts him. There’s a scream followed by shouting, but he’s barely able to register what’s happening, barely able to think about the fact he’d left the apartment to simply buy some eggs, when there’s a man standing at the end of the aisle waving a gun around, pointing it at him as he demands Aaron comes to the front of the store with everyone else.

Aaron’s belt feels heavy, the absence of his gun almost weighing him down as he puts his hands up, the carton of eggs and the flowers hitting the floor, and does as he’s told.

This couldn’t be the way he went out, not after everything. He wasn’t going to die in a strange twist of fate after everything he’d survived. He wasn’t going to leave his son without any parents.

And he wasn’t going to die before he told the love of his life how he felt about her, the words he wished he’d said as he left her less than an hour ago heavy on his tongue.

He was going to live, because, for the first time in a long time, he had so much to live for.

He sits on the ground with the other people unfortunate enough to be in the store just at the wrong time, and he jumps when his phone rings, the sound cutting through the forced silence they are all in.

“Give me the phone,” the gunman demands, and Aaron nods and swallows thickly as he hands it over, Emily’s name and picture staring up at him for only a second before the man pointing a gun at him drops it to the floor and stands on it, the call coming to an abrupt end as the screen cracks. Aaron watches the man carefully, his focus on his shaking hands, wide eyes, and uncovered face. It seemed like this was done on a whim, in a fit of rage for one reason or another, and that it was unlikely he had an exit plan. “If everyone listens to me, no one has to get hurt.”

Aaron had done his job long enough to know that wasn’t true.

___

She flashes her badge when she arrives at the scene. She takes a deep breath as she steps past the barricade and does her best to slip into Agent Prentiss mode, to remind herself she wasn’t here as a girlfriend worried about her boyfriend. She stares at the store, at the place she’d gone to countless times, and wonders how yet another place she’d gone to without thinking had now been marred by violence, how she’d ever walk through the aisles looking for whatever she wanted for dinner without thinking about the fact Aaron had been in danger there.

“Bella.”

She turns and sees Dave, Derek and JJ behind her, and she walks towards them, forcing a smile on her face she knows they’ll see through, “Did you guys all carpool or something?”

Derek shakes his head, “We just all got here. Reid is on his way. Garcia has gone to the office, she said she’d be more use there.”

Emily nods, her gaze drifting back to the store behind them and the temporary command centre the local cops had set up, “Good, that’s good.”

“How did you know Aaron was in there anyway?” Dave asks, and Emily closes her eyes and blows out a breath before she turns to look at them, ready to give the answer she was sure would only create more questions.

“Well-”

“This store is significantly closer to your place Emily than it is to Hotch’s,” Spencer says, appearing behind everyone else, his eyebrows furrowed as he says what the others hadn’t realised yet, “There are three convenience stores and two grocery stores between here and his apartment.”

She sighs as she watches the moment it clicks for everyone else, sees the mix of emotions that pass over their faces as they realise what she and Aaron had kept hidden from them.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Dave says, shaking his head as he smiles at her, a spark in his eyes that infuriates her given the circumstances. They fall into silence, all of them just waiting for someone to say something first.

“What’s happening?” Spencer asks, his brow furrowed as he looks back and forth between Emily and the rest of them.

“Hotch was at Emily’s place, Spence,” JJ says, patting him on the shoulder, her lips pressed together when he just looks more confused.

“What? Why?”

“Well,” JJ says, flicking her eyes to Emily’s, “When a man and a woman love each other very much-”

“Can we stop please?” Emily says, crossing her arms over her chest, “Yes, Aaron was at mine,” she clears her throat, “We’re together.”

Derek furrows his brow, “How long has this been going on?”

“A month,” she replies, “And I’m sure you have questions-”

“Damn right we have questions,” Derek replies, his jaw tight with anger that only serves to make her angry.

“And we’ll answer them,” she huffs out a breath, “Most of them. But for now can we please focus on getting him out of there?”

The reality of where they were, of why they were here on a Saturday morning, seems to sink back in and they all nod. Derek’s shoulders loosen and he swallows thickly, his irritation and mistrust still painted all over his face.

“Have you spoken to anyone yet?”

She shakes her head, “I got here just before you.”

“Then we’d better get going.”

Dave takes charge and talks to the local cops, something she’s grateful for when they ask why the FBI are interested in a case like this, sure that her response would have been a lot more forceful than his calm ‘one of our own is in there’. They find out the gunman, Neil West, is an ex-employee of the store, and that his ex-girlfriend is the cashier currently in there. Penelope pulls his history - a story of stalking and assault charges that turn Emily’s stomach - and makes her more nervous. She’s sure West doesn’t have a plan, that he’s devolving as they just stand there outside unable to do anything, and it makes her feel sick, any pretence that she’s just here as an agent, as a member of Aaron’s team, disappearing by the second.

The team spreads out, all of them helping the cops in whatever way they can. Emily feels frozen, the three words she couldn’t say earlier stuck in her throat, her lungs full of what felt like cowardice how she was faced with the thought that she may not get the chance to tell him that she loves him.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

She sighs, “Derek-”

“Secrets never end up being good for any of us,” he says, shaking his head as he looks at her, “Especially yours.”

She scoffs in disbelief, a humourless laugh sticking in her throat, “You have got to be kidding me,” she shakes her head, “You’re not equating my relationship with Aaron to…” she swallows thickly, her jaw tight as she holds back everything she wants to say, sure if she started she wouldn’t stop, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Because you two didn’t tell us anything.”

“It’s been a month, Derek,” she says, “A month. We wanted to know where we stood with everything before we got everyone involved.”

“And that took a month?”

“No, it took me maybe a few minutes to realise that I’m in love with him, but-”

Derek’s frown slips away as he cuts her off, “You’re in love with him?”

Before she can answer, before she can even catch up with what she’s unintentionally said outloud, a gunshot rings out from inside the store. It feels like time stands still, like she’s underwater and she can’t hear anything apart from the echo of the gunshot in her head. She tries to move forward, tries to get to him but she can’t, like she’s frozen in place. Everything around her speeds back up and she realises Derek’s arm is around her middle, that he’s holding her so tightly her feet are no longer on the floor.

“Derek, let me go.”

“I can’t princess, I’m sorry,” he says, holding her tighter as police storm the building, “We both know he wouldn’t want me to.”

She stops fighting against him because she can’t anymore, all of her energy thrown into not crying, into not letting the pre-emptive grief settle into her chest, because if someone in there had got themselves shot trying to be a hero it would be Aaron. Stupid, loving, considerate, Aaron. It feels like a lifetime passes before they hear anything, every possibility playing out in front of her in a mix of static and vivid technicolour as she thinks of her life with and without him, fractures of everything that could and might not be slotting together until she feels nauseous. She feels stupid for letting herself get carried away with the thought of a future with him, for letting herself think for one minute that she’d be able to hold on to him. She’d never been able to keep anything good for long.

When she eventually hears the crackle of the radio of a nearby cop she sucks in a breath preparing herself for the worst because life had never been too kind to her.

“We need a medic for a gunshot wound to the gunman’s shoulder. All hostages are on their way out now.”

The relief almost makes her knees give out, and she’s sure if Derek still hadn’t been holding her they would have, that she would have collapsed under the weight of it. He doesn’t let her go until the doors open, until Aaron is in sight. She runs towards him, her heart in her throat when she sees a cut on his forehead, and she throws her arms around him, not thinking about the team just a few feet behind them.

“You were gone a lot longer than 30 minutes,” she says, her throat tight as she pulls back to look at him, her eyes fixed on the cut on his head. She reaches out to touch it but stops short of doing so, worried she’d hurt him as her brain catches up with her.

“Sorry,” he replies, catching her hand and kissing her knuckles, “Time got away from me.”

She laughs humourlessly and leans forward to kiss him, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place, “Aaron…”

She almost says it, almost admits that she loves him here and now, but she stops herself because she wants it to be something just for them. Not something that one of their friends or a stranger could overhear. They had so little that was just theirs, and now their friends knew about their relationship they’d have even less, so she wanted this to just be for them.

“I know,” he replies, because he did, his own confession heavy on his tongue before he swallows it down, and he stamps his lips against hers before he pulls back, “I’m okay.”

She looks at his forehead again, “What happened?”

“He was devolving, kept waving his gun at his ex-girlfriend and I saw where it was going,” he clears his throat and looks over at the team, their gaze burning into his side, before he looks back at her, “So I did what I had to do.”

She shakes her head, “You disarmed him.”

He brushes some of her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, “I did what I had to do. He hit me with the gun before I took it from him,” he repeats, “You’d have done the same thing.”

She sighs, because she knows he’s right, “We need to get you checked out,” she says, linking her fingers through his and leading him towards the medics. He opens his mouth to argue, to tell her that he’s fine, but she raises an eyebrow at him, “No arguing. You’re getting that looked at.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” he says, squeezing her hand, her residual panic following her like a perfume, the scent of it clinging to her skin in a way he knew it would for days, “I’ll let them look at me,” he looks back over at their friends, at the way they weren’t even trying to hide the fact they were staring at them, “I take it that they know.”

She hums, “Thanks to Reid and his strange amount of knowledge about all the places you can buy groceries between here and your place they figured it out pretty quickly.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that by yourself.”

“They weren’t too bad,” she replies, smiling when he raises an eyebrow at her. She wants to talk to him about Derek, to find out if there is more to know about his poorly hidden comments about her and Ian, but she doesn’t want to talk about it now, not when they’d had such a hard day already. She smiles at him and leans in to kiss him, her lips catching the corner of his mouth, and they both know it’s more for their audience than either of them, “Now we know you’re okay they probably won’t hold back.”

He winks at her, “Bring it on.”

She doesn’t leave his side when he’s being checked over, listening intently to the paramedic’s advice like neither one of them had never taken a blow to the head before. Once he’s bandaged up, and she’s assured more than once that he doesn’t need to go to the hospital, she finally feels more relaxed, her hand still wrapped in his as they walk towards the rest of the team.

“Oh god,” he says, turning back to look at the store that was now cordoned off, “I need to go back in.”

“Honey, it’s a crime scene,” she says, squeezing his hand, “You can’t go back.”

“But I didn’t get the eggs, we have nothing for breakfast.”

She rolls her eyes at him, because of course he was worried about the eggs when if things had been different he could died, “Aaron-”

“I have a solution for that,” Dave says, a grin on his face that makes Emily glare at him, something that only seems to encourage him, “Why don’t we all go out for breakfast? My treat.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” JJ says, pulling her phone out of her pocket, “I’ll let Pen know, she can join us.”

“Oh god,” Emily says, turning her head and pressing her forehead against Aaron’s shoulder, “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”

___

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

Emily chuckles at Aaron as she closes her front door behind them, “It wasn’t bad for you,” she says, her hand on his back as she slips past him, “But Pen asked me a lot of questions about our sex life when we went to the bathroom.”

His eyes go wide, and the embarrassment that tinges his skin pink only makes the white bandage on his forehead stand out even more, “What?”

She smiles and wraps her arms around him, tugging him and his warmth closer. She basks in it, soaks it all in because for a moment today, she thought she’d lost it forever, and she leans in to kiss him.

“If it makes you feel better,” she says, kissing him again, “I was very complimentary.”

“Oddly, sweetheart, that doesn’t make me feel better,” he grumbles, unable to fight his smile when she looks up at him, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, “How complimentary?”

“Oh very complimentary,” she says, running her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching lightly at his scalp as her eyes flick to his forehead, “Do you need any painkillers or anything?”

He shakes his head and stamps his lips against hers, “I’m fine, I promise.”

She nods, not entirely sure she believes him, and she reaches for his hand, “Let’s go sit down.”

She sinks into his side the moment they settle onto the couch. She wraps both of her arms around one of his and holds it to her chest, and she rests her cheek on his shoulder, her eyes drifting closed as she breathes him in. She tries to commit it all to memory - all the things she may have taken for granted even just this morning. The press of his skin against hers. The scent of his cologne. The warmth that she never wanted to live without. He knows what she’s doing, because he knows he’d been doing the same earlier. Desperately trying to remember what she sounded like when she first woke up, or how she felt pressed against him just like this - idle moments of beautiful normality he once thought he’d never get again.

“I really am okay, Em,” he says, hooking his finger under her chin and making her look up at him, “I promise.”

She smiles tightly, “I know…” she says, swallowing thickly, “I know you are, but earlier…” she shakes her head at herself as she chokes back tears she refuses to shed, “I didn’t know you would be,” her smile trembles, “I was scared.”

He cups her cheek and pulls her close, the bandage on his forehead rubbing against her skin, “I know. I was too,” he kisses her, “But I’m right here.”

She nods and suddenly she doesn’t feel close enough to him. She shifts so she’s in his lap, her side pressed against his chest as he holds her close. She tilts her head so she’s looking up at him and she cups his cheek. Any fear she’d had that morning about it being too soon is gone, replaced with a strange sense of calm because it felt right. For as many arguments as there were to say it was quick to know she loved him and that she wanted everything with him, there were just as many to say they’d been slow. That they’d let countless opportunities pass them by over the years and she wasn’t going to let this one slip by her too.

“I love you,” she says, a weight lifted off her chest the moment she says it, “I love you so much.”

He smiles, his cheeks aching with it as he pulls her in for a kiss, unable to stop himself before he replies, “I love you too, sweetheart. I love you so much more than I can ever possibly explain.”

She kisses him, her hand on his cheek to hold him in place as if he’d want to be anywhere else. She rests her forehead against his and sighs contentedly, “It’s not even lunchtime yet and I’m exhausted.”

“I think we’ve earned an indulgent nap,” he replies, kissing the tip of her nose and smiling when she scrunches it up, “But why don’t we watch one of those reality shows you pretend to hate first.”

“You say that like you don’t enjoy them too,” she hums and reaches for the remote. As she flicks through the channels she can see him watching her out of the corner of her eye and she turns to face him, “What?”

“You’re beautiful,” he says, kissing her forehead, “That’s all.”

“How hard exactly did that guy hit you in the head?” She jokes, and he rolls his eyes at her, stamping his lips against her forehead one more time before he pulls back.

“I should thank the guy really,” he says casually, and she raises her eyebrow at him, making him suppress a smile as he shrugs, “If I’d have known a blow to the head is what would have finally made you say you love me, I would have been held hostage weeks ago.”

She scoffs, choking on a laugh she couldn’t hold back if she tried. She shakes her head at him and lightly slaps his shoulder, narrowing her eyes when he captures her hand and kisses her knuckles, “Don’t joke about that.”

“Too soon?”

“Far far too soon,” she mumbles, resting her head on his shoulder, “You’re lucky I love you, even if you do have a terrible sense of humour.”

He wraps his arms around her and kisses her temple, “I really am lucky,” he replies, feeling the smile she hides against him, “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

#hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron x emily #hotchniss

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stepfordboys · 1 day ago

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The Perfect Boy

Written by RiderVitalli, revamped by StepfordBoys.

Dylan had been such a nuisance on my street for as long as I can remember. His parents worked too hard to provide for their family that they didn't have time to raise him properly. It wasn't their fault when he'd fallen in with the wrong crowd, becoming a menace to our neighborhood. But that would change the day he decided to vandalize my prize-winning front lawn, destroying years of hard work and effort, all in the name of "fun."

I caught him in the middle of the night, using his bike to tear up my grass, he'd carved the word "fag” deeply into the dirt, and upon further investigation, I found he'd torn up my flower-garden, toilet-papered my pear tree, even spray painted vulgar shapes and anarchy symbols on my newly paved driveway.

I'll admit it; I blew a fuse! I promised myself I'd never use my incredible gift for revenge, but this was too much. A wave of power rushed across the lawn and bowled him over; his body flopped into the dirt he'd ground up. Seeing his body short-circuit, twitching and writhing as his nervous system overloaded, I knew I'd messed up. Now the only thing to do was drag him inside before the neighbors woke up for their morning routines.

I didn't know what I was going to do at first. I laid him on the cold tile floor in my kitchen, solely so I wouldn't get his filth on furniture or carpeting. His body convulsed a little, but the main effects of the blast had worn off. If I'd left him alone for any longer, he'd wake up with an incredible headache, muscles sore from involuntary spasms, but otherwise, he'd be fine in a few days.

But then I had an idea creep into my head… Could I let this delinquent go only to repeat his mischief on some other innocent neighbor? No. I had to solve this issue while I had the chance. This sad excuse of a boy would no longer be a problem after I'd finished with him. The mental image I'd conjured was perfect in every way, but I doubt he'll like it much.

I looked down at him, breathing heavily but out cold. His body splayed in an awkward position. He'd lost a shoe somewhere, and his shirt had been torn as I dragged him. The clothing choice was appalling; his shirt was covered in silkscreened pot leaves and other paraphernalia, his shorts were baggy, the entire length covered in pockets which, after a short search, were found full of little baggies, papers, lighters, and his wallet, a little chain hooked to his belt as if the 2 dollars and his school ID were worth protecting.

I used a damp cloth to clean up some of the dirt and propped him up on one of my kitchen chairs, using a little of my power to control his body, making it impossible for him to move anything from the neck down. His head lolled forward, his chin resting on his chest. Then, with a nudge to his incapacitated mind, he awoke with a gasp and groaned when the soreness and migraine hit him. He tried to move; I saw his fingers twitch a bit on the armrests, then his eyes widened, and he looked around and yelled for help when he saw who was sitting across from him.

He shouted over and over; again, his fingers, the only thing he was able to move, twitched. Finally, after a few minutes, he calmed down a bit, panting, and begged me to let him go. I explained that I would, but he needed a little lecture first. Shouting again, this time with more force and vulgarity, he demanded freedom and threatened to tell the cops. His arguments were quelled when I explained that he'd send himself to jail if he tried after vandalizing my yard.

Some thought, and he finally went quiet, listening to me. I went on and on about his behavior and how he terrorizes our little community. He seemed proud, even happy that his efforts had been noticed, which made me angrier. I think he could feel the spark of control hit him, his head throbbing, his eyes glazed, and he fell silent. That's when I let loose.

Once inside his head, I read every thought, emotion, and memory in seconds. I knew exactly who this boy was down to the very core. I felt sorry for him. He only wanted acceptance and for someone to acknowledge him. Until now, his family was too busy keeping up with their lifestyle and working to build a decent living to pay attention to their little boy.

They never neglected him; they were good to him, giving him everything he needed and even trying to make him happy with new things, toys, and video games. But he wanted more. Not material things. He wanted to feel like he was necessary, and that's where his gang of rampant delinquents came in.

They pried him out of his shell and let him experience being wanted and needed. He was their fall guy, always able to get out of trouble and their best place to hide the more illegal things. He still looked innocent, so most authorities wrote him off as harmless. That's why he had pockets full of it when I searched.

I could see why he is the way he is now. But I still had to fix him. To solve our neighborhood problem, and now I know how! He craves acceptance, attention, and feeling needed and wanted; I'd give it to him! But I knew he wouldn't like it. His whole childhood and up to now had trained him to be a rebel. His brain was wired to "fuck the police" and to run or fight authority. It was in his blood, his DNA now. Changing him the way I planned would be torture for him! But it'd teach him a lesson! Kill two birds with one stone!

He was still lost in deep unconsciousness, and a line of drool dribbled down his shirt, so I took my time. I didn't change his memories or how he thinks; I left his personality intact. What I did change was the way he'd behave on the outside. The way his body would react to things, he could think of what he wanted to say, but it would come out completely different. He'd be forced to watch as he did something to a new standard. Everything on the outside would change.

I reprogrammed his outward vocabulary, adding educated words and deleting vulgarity. He'd be unable to swear or disrespect anyone in any way. His answers to anyone with any authority would be respectful, ending with "sir" or "ma'am" I tweaked his body language; he could no longer slouch or sit with his legs wide open like most boys do. He'd sit up straight; leg crossed neatly across his knee. He could no longer disobey his parents or elders unless it harmed him or anyone else. And worse of all, he'd do it all with a polite smile!

Next, I tackled his fashion sense. The way boys now dress always bugged me, so I forced him to buy and wear a more formal, professional wardrobe: slacks, khakis, polo shirts, dress socks, or boat shoes. Sneakers for athletics, crisp white t-shirts or undershirts, and only briefs, never boxers or commando, from what I could tell, he liked. This would be one of the most significant changes, so I hammered it into his brain; I could almost feel him fighting back, but in the end, I won out.

Finally, were his hair and his new hobbies and activities? His hair now was greasy and unkempt, hidden under an ugly, worn-out old cap, but from now on, it'd be crisply clean cut, short, maybe military style, or pomp. No, I know what I wanted for him. A "college boy" cut! Shaved back and sides, with a deep part on one side, the rest combed over neatly with a little longer combed over in the front. He'd also keep clean-shaven, trimming up his body and taking out all his piercings, and find that his tattoos would fade till they were gone. The perfect match for his new looks!

He needed some new activities, vandalizing, smoking, and general misbehavior wouldn't work for the new boy. No, he needed constructive things to keep his time occupied! Judging from his current body type, he still needs to do something other than skateboard and bike to stay fit. That had to change.

Seeing his new form in my head, I realized the perfect extracurricular activity! He'd be a swimmer! It takes skill and discipline to be on a swim team, and from what I'd seen in his head, he's self-conscious of his body, always keeping covered. So being forced to wear nothing but a tight speedo and cap would add to his torture; remember, this isn't just to make him better; it's also punishment! He'd also join a track team; his legs are long enough to be well-talented. Adding that he'd now strive for A's and work hard at home and for the neighbors doing chores, I covered his free time well.

I was done. My head was pounding from the effort of all these changes, fighting his mind and winning over. He was sweating buckets, his head lolling back and forth, whimpering as I released my grip on his mind. He groaned, and I let his body go; immediately, his hands went to his head and squeezed as it tried to press out all the changes I'd made. Then he looked up, his eyes a little red, and I heard his mind screaming obscenities and demanding I undo it all, but what came out of his mouth, as his body straightened up on the chair, was nothing like his previous mental statements. "Please, sir, may I have an Asprin and a glass of water, if it isn't too much trouble?"

His eyes widened, and his mind reeled as I got him his request, his hand shakily taking them, and after swallowing the pill and water, he smiled and whimpered meekly, "Thank you, sir. May I go home now? It's far past my bedtime, and I have an early day tomorrow…" His hand unconsciously took his hat off and rubbed his greasy hair. We stood up, and I dismissed him; his last words were, "Have a great night, sir, thank you!" he ran to his house, leaving his bike in my yard.

It had been a few weeks now, and I hadn't had the chance to see the boy, as I'd been traveling. When I came home, I found a stranger in my front yard with a lawn mower and water bottle. When I pulled in, I recognized him at once! It was Dylan!

He was wearing an impeccably clean yet damp white tank-top undershirt, a pair of athletic shirts, and an immaculate pair of sneakers, taking a long drink from his bottle and pushing the mower in what looked to be an impossibly straight line. The entire yard looked immaculate! When he turned around, I was looking into the eyes of a completely new boy, a perfect example of a young man. His hair was precise as I'd programmed, He'd even trimmed up his pits, and his chest was shaved bare. He looked clean, aside from the sheen of sweat from the sun and heat, and he'd been working out a bit, the perfect build for a swimmer and the legs of a champion runner!

"Good afternoon, sir!" He politely stated, stopping the mower and shaking my hand. I read his mind; his internal personality was screaming, begging me to fix him, that he learned his lesson. I read the last few weeks' memories and found that his gang had rejected him after getting cleaned up, they didn't want a preppy fag boy in their group, but luckily, he found a new group! The swim team accepted him almost immediately after his tryout.

I'd given him above-average skills and knew they were all good boys like him. I also found that, after the weeks of change, his parents finally showed him acceptance and even praise; his grades were up, he was showing a lot of potential in English, probably due to his new dictionary of a vocabulary, and they let him get a puppy, after he'd asked and promised to take care of him. His life was the epitome of a perfect schoolboy, polite and disciplined, and as he craved, he was now loved and wanted by the entire neighborhood; everyone loved him! Especially since he'd taken to helping the elderly residents, he even had a new girlfriend from the track team. Inside, he was a screaming mess, his rebellious mind still fighting and demanding to be released, but that'd never happen again!

#mental transformation #male transformation #male tf story #tf story #transformation #stepford #stepfordization

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rafaeldahar · 3 days ago

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Phoebe was so fucking good. And kind. Offering to help him figure it all out, despite not knowing what exactly he was talking about. Or maybe she did. Maybe she knew exactly, and that’s why it meant so much that she would offer.

Rafael squeezed her hand back.

Maybe it was that, and the promise to see each other every day, that had Rafael’s breath growing ragged. His stomach felt all tight, and he knew that he’d be close soon. Just from looking at Phoebe, and all the emotions that were stirring inside of him.

He wanted to finish with her, wanted to hold her in the afterglow of their pleasure.

“I’m gonna see you every day,” Rafael managed, in between heavy breaths. It felt like an important promise to make. “Even if it’s just a few minutes. Even if I don’t have the time. I’m gonna see you,” he promised. He leaned forward, pressed his mouth against her collarbone. He squeezed her hand tight, wondering if she knew how much he meant that.

Even if he couldn’t stay for very long, Rafael wanted to see her. He wanted to kiss her in the mornings, or before he went to bed. In the middle of busy day, stacked with meetings. He just wanted to see her, no matter the circumstance.

And it was that thought that nearly pushed Rafael over the edge. The excitement in seeing her every day, in getting to kiss her, in spending the night in this tiny little apartment.

He stifled a groan. He tilted his head back, mouth slightly agape. He looked into Phoebe’s eyes.

“I’m close,” he whispered. His eyes fell onto her body — perfect, slender body. Perfect breasts, right in his face. Her beautiful neck, the hickies that he’d left there earlier.

“Need you to finish with me. Please.”

Rafael never said please. He never asked for anything, never begged for anything, but he was now. Whenever it came to Phoebe, he felt so fucking desperate and hungry for her. He’d crawl on his knees and ask, if he had to.

His eyes locked on Phoebe’s again.

“Please, baby.”

Phoebe has to blink hard, rapidly, when she feels Rafael shift his head to kiss at her chin. It was— unbearably tender. She can't recall when another man has ever kissed her like that at all, let alone during sex. Sex was generally ... just an exchange. Phoebe had done it for validation, for a place to stay, for drugs, very rarely pleasure and never once for intimacy and connection.

Not until Raf, that is.

Everything she knew, everything she'd learned had been turned on its head once she had fell into bed with him, wrapped her arms around his neck and felt an undeniable, irrepressible spark that quickly overtook everything.

'You don’t need a reason,'

'I already want to see you everyday,'

And then Phoebe has to swallow and blink— a lot. Raf shifting forward to hold her. Raf pressing their chests together, hearts pounding, skin blazing, Raf reassuring her that she needed no reason to keep him here.

He already wanted to see her. Phoebe, who was nothing much of anything, who should barely even register on his radar.

Phoebe's pulse pounds against her breastbone. It was a lot to feel; all the feelings felt fucking good. And novel, and special, particularly when she feels his broad hands span her hips, move them, adjust them at a slower pace, their bodies in-tandem and connected, muscle taut.

God, it was heaven. They kiss, and Phoebe lets all those emotions leak out of her then, the hunger and want and appreciation and ... well. Something very strong, that sparked inside her chest unbidden and uncontrolled. But for now, she just welcomes it. Phoebe just presses their chests more tightly together, digs her fingers into the sinew of his shoulder, as if she could permanently join them together.

And then— Rafael speaks. Looks at Phoebe, truly looks at her, and Phoebe can see the emotion rolling in them, beautiful and intense and maybe something he cannot truly verbalize.

'I—'

The pauses don't bother Phoebe. Nothing about Raf truly bothers Phoebe— every inch of him and his heart felt precious.

'I don’t know,'

His hand seeking hers. Their fingers lace together, and Phoebe thinks her heart may explode from the pressure, from the burst of emotion that strikes within her hard.

'But I wanna figure it out.'

Every inch of Phoebe softens; melts, like hot butter, gaze burning and soft and gentle all at once as she stares down into those stormy blue eyes.

She kisses him. Slow, and languid, still fierce.

"We can figure out. However long it takes is okay..."

The fact he'd even said that it all; the fact that he'd admitted it, not knowing, struggling to verbalize it at first, but still wanting, still expressing that to Phoebe...

It felt like everything.

There was no rush; no pressure to put on Rafael. He was already so brave and so brilliant and so kind to her.

Phoebe rolls her hips once more; a deep, careful roll, her other hand shifting from his shoulder to find purchase in his hair, rubbing at his scalp, tender and hungry, and, oh, fuck, this felt good, why did this feel so achingly good with their hands interlinked?

Fuck, that taut heat in her abdomen, the way her chest seemed to have melted, golden and soft because of his tongue.

He looked so beautiful. Phoebe just wants to keep him like this; here in her apartment, as little and flimsy as it may be, she could keep him safe, couldn't she?

"...Thought if we're seeing each other every day that might help us."

#vegas au 001

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meownotgood · 2 months ago

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I really couldn't even begin to put into words how I feel right now I'm just feeling so many things at once, FUUUCCKFKKKK I MISSED AKI SO FUCKING MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#I love him so much!!!!!!!!!#right now I'm just laying in bed trying to decide if I should get up for work or be late so I can cry #I knew that seeing him again would make me emotional #but in the manga.... I never expected it....#uugff and maybe the whole next chapter will be a hayakawa family flashback #im filled with so many thoughts about what will happen #if I didn't have to get up I would sob all morning lol

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asfdhgsdkjhgb · 2 months ago

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had quite the night drive earlier this evening.

#just me rambling again #web weaving #(?)#uh. one of my friends who is out of town for college was visiting and i got to see him and our friends and the only core member of that #group of people missing was my ex girlfriend who you may also know of as my wonderful wife #who has I assume been very busy with their own life things but has also barely and very sparsely had any hint of communication with any of #us within the past few months which I've been realizing very recently sort of hurts my feelings because we used to be so close and #they had been saying that they would be constantly making sure we still were in each other's lives. but then very quickly have #seemingly dropped off the face of the earth #anyways. I was driving aforementioned friend who is in town back home (family home not college obv) and when i was finally going back #towards my house afterwards my Google maps finally lead me to an area that i was more familiar with driving and i got to an #intersection and it was telling me to take a right to go home but i knew that i knew the way perfectly from that intersection to my #ex girlfriend / best friend / wifes familys house from all of the times I've gone that direction through the past years and so #i turned off my directions and i took a left towards their house #not super sure why but my brain and body just knew it was something i needed to do and so i went and drove down their street and cried #a lot the whole time and then drove myself home from their house once again following a super familiar path #and idk im still feeling very emotional about it. the fact that halloween by noah kahan was the first song to play on Spotify #after i made that left turn im sure didnt help (knowing that i miss them so much and am going to be leaving this area myself #soon enough here and there's been an open offer for a while now that they are welcome to follow and live with me once they get their degree #(and also um. halloween is next week lol)#idk i just havent felt the full force of how badly i miss having them in my life until tonight. when i was around this person i could feel #our souls singing in harmony. i genuinely cannot describe the feelings of our relationship in words i feel like only vaguely abstract art #could communicate the connection that was forged between us and the level of understanding and knowing #something not dissimilar to looking into the sun directly or trying to describe a vivid color to someone who is completely blind #something about the way the entire universe breathes in unison and everything around us are all pieces of the same stars #sigh #i miss my wife tails i miss her a lot /ref

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tenok · 9 months ago

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#I want complaine not only about bad takes in this fandom but also about theories that just!! so!! stupid!! but also I'm a good person that #doesn't shit on other people's fun #so I mostly suffer in silence #and block people in bunches #'you see! this theory absolutely doesn't take agency from character and doesn't minimize emotional impact!'#says person about theory that roughly summariasized as 'Crowley AGAIN knows more than Aziraphale and it's all so SAD because if only #Aziraphale knew he wouldn't make this desicion!'#I want to scream #somehow it also never about what kind of monster Crowley would be to willingly hide memories Aziraphale supposedly erised and never gave it #back in whole four years they had before season two #like. maybe not be a cowards and embrace 'I was a pussy and somehow didn't get a courage to RESTORE MY FRIEND'S MEMORY with some kind of #VITAL INFORMATION that could've IMPACT HIS LIFE OR DEAT DESICIONS #and now he's in place where he could be abused erased or killed and IT'S MY FAULT' angle hmmm?#at least it could've made it interesting #but noooo #also how the fuck them kissing in 1941 should've impact Aziraphale's desicion anyway I can't get logic behind this theories #(the angle with 'memories are not about some stupid kiss but about what Crowley saw in heavens' could've work but like first: Crowley didn'#saw anything Aziraphale won't hear from Metatron in next scene or can extrapolate using base logic #and anyway if Crowley wanted to use it as argument he like. should've start with it and not with 'blah blah you're an idiot we should run #from earth'#AT BEST I could've get behind him giving Aziraphale some kind of weapon or possibility of safe out or like. hell's fire to self destruct as #last resort. but memories? and especially Aziraphale's memories??)#anyway yes it's me being a hater. I just have no place to vent about it but I sure hope that no one that likes this theories will see it.#you do you!!! but I hate it so much!!!

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sahkuna · 8 months ago

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NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.

content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.

word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll d—

SPRING 2008

“So, you’re not gonna miss me? Not even a little?”

An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulders, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.

Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.

“Satoru, move!” Shoko— your saviour— jabs Gojo’s side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.

He’s still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. “You’re literally blocking people’s way toward the gates,” she says.

It’s graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on school grounds as students.

The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and its marvellous glow cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the school’s campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere.

Answering Gojo’s initial question about whether you’d miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. “I never said that,” your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation.

Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on campus chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.

And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmates—specifically, his female classmates— waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...

Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.

Who knows.

All you’re sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.

“Y’know, I’m gonna miss you,” Gojo says, his arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffles you off to the side. “All the years we’ve spent together—”

“Two years, by force.”

“— and now we’re being split apart,” he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. “How ever will we manage?”

You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics he’s displaying today and decide to play nice.

Gojo’s always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today.

Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and… persistent than others.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, “and I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.”

In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniors— Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.

“Geto-senpai!”

Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.

You’ve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. You’ll miss him.

You’ll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.

Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.

Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. “How come he gets honorifics but I don’t?!” he complains once Geto’s within earshot.

“I see that Satoru's already started…”

Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojo’s incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. “You missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.” Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it.

“But anyway, I’m gonna head out for a smoke. I’ll catch you guys later.” Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. “Get home safe, ‘kay? Don’t let these guys keep you out too long.”

Which reminded you…

“Gojo, this has been fun and all…” Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. “But I really should start heading home now.”

You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.

Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space.

“Gimme a second, yeah?” He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.

“Suguru!” A curt upward nod of Gojo’s head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. You’re appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. “Take a picture of us.”

…Huh?

Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. “What are y—?!” Before you can even finish your question, you’re pulled tightly into Gojo’s side.

His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own.

“Smile,” Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.

You don’t have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojo’s already obnoxiously yelling “Cheese!” towards the awaiting camera.

Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. “Looks good,” he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner.

You’re still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojo’s lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest what’s going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened???

Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. “What’s with that face you’re making, huh?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldn’t have been good. “What do you mean?” You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.

Gojo tips his cell over and shows you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.

If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.

“I wasn’t ready…” you grumbled, looking away from his phone.

There’s a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.

“That face of yours is what I’m gonna miss the most.”

SUMMER 2009

To no one’s surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school.

Well… More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently.

Whenever he can.

He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the elation of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school when he came to greet you was absurd.

You’ll also never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and hollers until after the ceremony.

Fast forward to the summer of ‘09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it's with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you can always rely on him to shoot you a ‘u busy?’ text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.

“Sooo,” you start slowly.

Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow.

“You’re a… guardian now,” you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you.

You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumi— a kid Gojo now supposedly looks after— poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playground’s sand.

“Yup!” he chirps, but then it’s swiftly followed by a hesitant, “Well, sorta kinda…”

There’s a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.

“To put it simply, from here on out I’m going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumiki’s life.”

You think of the step-sibling duo. They’re the sweetest pair of children you’ve had the delight of coming across, and now…

“They’re doomed,” you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro.

Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asks.

But before you could give him a smart alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumiki’s shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.

You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldn’t help but coddle her. “Why hello, Tsumiki!”

It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. “Where were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings weren’t fun without you!” she says, pouting.

“I wasn’t feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojo’s invite to meet you guys at the park that day.”

Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, “She thought you guys broke up.”

Huh?

You blink rapidly. “Broke— Broke up!?” You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the ‘up’ part.

Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo weren’t even dating!

Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo weren’t together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. “Even if she tried, she can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gojo comments.

Christ.

Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. “Yay! ‘Cause I like you!” she confesses. “I thought I’d have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.” And with that, the girl’s already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.

The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojo’s arm still lodged around you like it belonged there.

Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.

“Gojo Satoru…” you hiss between clenched teeth.

Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. “Hm?”

“What do you mean ‘Hm’?” You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. “Why would you tell them that?!”

“It’s true though, no?” Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. “We haven’t ‘broken up’ and we’re still together. Just not in their understanding of it.”

“You—! That’s not—” You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he can’t go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.

“You’re irritating, you know that?” you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. “You’ll wind up confusing them.”

An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. “Relax,” he responds. “They’re smart kids.”

And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.

WINTER 2011

Being the “middleman” between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.

It’s a shame that Geto wasn’t available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he would’ve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected… turn of events.

Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes.

Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurant’s hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko could’ve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.

But something was... different.

With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. “Here, try some of mine,” he says.

Harmless, right?

So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.

There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.

“Say, ‘Ahhh’!”

Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.

He was being serious.

From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shoko’s face.

You press your fingers onto Gojo’s wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. “Give me a br—”

Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, “It’s good, right?”

The cigarette threatens to slip from Shoko’s mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with… something. It’s as if she knew something that you didn’t.

“Ehhh…” Is all she says before you’re already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.

“It’s nothing!” you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?

But at your remark, Gojo’s mouth downturns into a cute little pout. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” From the corner of your eye you glance at how he’s fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.

“Sato—” Fuck.

You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you don’t overlook how hard Gojo’s beaming at you. “Gojo, not now.”

“Ehhh?” Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. It’s gained an amused note to its tune. “You call him Satoru now? Since when?”

“I’ve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,” Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. “You know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?”

Lord. You’ve forgotten how dramatic he could be.

There’s a teasing glint in Shoko’s eye that you quite don’t like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. “You make him beg?”

Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You can’t with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now.

“I’ll kill you both,” you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.

A FEW YEARS LATER

A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.

Satoru: Are you home?

What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again.

…And again.

Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. It’s been five minutes since you’ve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.

As you’re about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.

Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `ε´ )

Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry

You: yes... why?

Now it’s his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that he’s texted you back— which isn’t too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person.

But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.

Satoru: Open your door.

What the fuck.

Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl

So that’s why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!

You: you're actually insane.

You: hold on!

Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.

“Oh!” you exclaim to no one in particular. You can’t open the door for him looking like… this.

Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!

He’s seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Geto’s spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.

Yeesh.

Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob.

It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion that’s all too persistent, annoying, and all from—

“Satoru!” you hiss, swinging the door open. You’re ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.

“Happy birthday!”

In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoru’s hands.

Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at what’s on the cake.

Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.

He’s cute.

Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.

On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in ‘08. The photo you love to hate.

Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that he’s here right now.

“Hey…” There’s concern creasing Satoru’s expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. “Are you crying?”

You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, “No… Shut up and come in already.”

Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that he’s already making himself at home.

Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. “Come, come!” He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.

With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.

Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the other— had he been wearing that the whole time?— Satoru clears his throat. “Before you cry again, I gotta make sure you’re able to see your present first.”

He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.

Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoru’s face. “Perfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,” he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.

“Wait, what,” you deadpan.

This can’t be what you think it is.

“It’s not a ring!” Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, “Unless you want it to be?”

Har. Har. Very funny.

You disregard what he’s said and peel open the box with caring hands.

Inside was the most extravagant necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone at the flower's centre.

That could’ve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.

“Satoru!” you squeal.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoru’s gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.

Your heart’s racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. “You’re crazy, ’s too expensive!” you sparingly chastise him.

Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt.

“Nothing’s too expensive if you’re involved,” you hear him murmur into your ear. “So, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. “Thank you, seriously.”

Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didn’t blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject.

There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with what’s to come.

“Now…” He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. “A birthday kiss from the birthday girl.” Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it.

For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.

It’s a joke; you know he’s joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot.

But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.

There’s something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because it’s the first time that you’re kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.

The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.

Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoru’s own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you would’ve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.

“Sorry,” you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.

“Again.” He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. “I… I didn’t do it right. Please.”

And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.

Leaning in, your lips press against Satoru’s once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though he’d never admit it).

Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoru’s hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.

God, you wanted him bad.

It’s abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoru’s is too. He’s all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times you’ve combed your fingers through it.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Cute.

That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.

You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement. “Come to my bedroom.”

Satoru’s stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.

And like a keen lost puppy, of course he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.

Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoru’s mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want… arousal.

Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.

Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. “Why’re you so shy all of a sudden?” you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.

Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. “‘Cause I didn’t think you’d want to kiss me!” But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear.

“Well, I’m here,” you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, “and wanting.”

Message received.

Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. It’s full of emotion, expressing all the things he’s been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and it’s through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours.

The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.

“So you like me?” he asks, his breathing laboured.

“Yes,” you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. “As if swapping spit with you wasn’t enough.” You guess you’ll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means.

He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoru’s eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him.

But something’s up.

His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.

You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.

Discerning that you’re about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. There’s something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. “The birthday hat stays on during sex.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “You’re so dumb,” you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head, tossing it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but you’re quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.

Satoru’s jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to grind yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purpose— the purpose of hearing that sound again.

“Do you like that?” you ask.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else he’ll let out a pathetic string of moans.

“I know, me too.” Satoru’s dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. “It feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,” you continue.

You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoru’s growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.

There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs that you can’t quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoru’s lap— with his occasional thrust to match your movements— felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.

And so did Satoru, because he’s already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line.

Fuck.

You fall victim to Satoru’s enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. “Take it off,” he commands.

He wants you to strip him of his clothes.

Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.

You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.

“While that was nice,” he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, “I meant you, baby. Take it off.”

“Oh.”

Seriously? Just ‘Oh’?

Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between his legs.

Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. “C’mere.”

You crawl onto his lap, but you don’t sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in.

There’s no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, you’d be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and he’d feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.

Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. “Pretty,” he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.

You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.

“Sa— Ah!” You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.

“You’re wet,” he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.

“Shut up about it…”

But he doesn’t. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. “You got wet from grinding alone, huh?”

A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You can’t take this anymore. You want more. “Do you have a condom?” you ask.

“I—” he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. “I didn’t bring one, because I didn’t think we’d—”

Oh.

Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoru’s shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What you’re about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldn’t find it in you to be overly stressed about it.

“No worries,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, “I trust you enough to pull out in time.” And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoru’s cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.

You’re so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.

The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. “So tight,” he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.

Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all he’s worth.

You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone.

“Let me fuck you,” Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.

“You are— Ugn!” you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.

Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. “No,” he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. “Let me fuck you.”

He pushes in and you swear you see stars.

Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.

You fear your neighbours may have some… less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning.

“Ah! Fuuucking— shit!” You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop, please!”

The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.

“Baby,” he murmurs into your neck. He says it like you’ve been his for years. “Say my name.”

“S—Satoru!”

Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.

You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.

Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, “Haaa…”

What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another ‘Happy Birthday’, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.

That’s what gets you.

You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you can’t be mad.

Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. You’re hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.

Wow.

Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among… other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.

“Stuck with me for life, huh?” he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours.

You hum. “Seems so…” you agree quietly.

Now that you think about it, there hasn’t ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadn’t been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.

You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each other’s company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.

You’re about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot.

“Satoru?” you begin, tone nice and sweet.

“Hm?”

You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. “By chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?”

You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that he chose the safe route and chose a normal ca—

“…Yeah, why?”

Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. “You IDIOT!”

A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.

“What’d I do?!”

Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound.

And maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Even if it’s at the cost of your ¥20,000 table.

if you read to the end we're making out.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk fluff #divider by cafekitsune #sahkuna!

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