#I know I’m not funny but I like to pretend haha

[personinthepalace]

Reynie the Comedian [REUPLOAD]

spoilers for the s2 finale

[sunni-stuff]

Part 4

Soap’s eyebrows lifted with a curious glint in his eye as he looked from you to Adira, a playful grin edging onto his face. He leaned in, never one to miss a chance at a bit of friendly prodding.

“So… you’re married?” he asked, his tone as light as his smirk.

You laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Haha! No, I’m not.” You gave Adira’s tiny hand a gentle squeeze, glancing down at her with a smile that softened every edge on your face. 

Soap tilted his head, pretending to be shocked. “A bonnie lass like yerself? Unmarried?” he teased, hand on his chest as though it were a crime.

“Guess I’m a rare breed,” you replied with a grin, chuckling as you shifted Adira’s hand in yours.

Soap’s face lit up at your response, as if he’d just been given the most interesting bit of news he’d heard all week. He shot Ghost a quick look, but Ghost was still watching Adira, his gaze softened with something unreadable.

Meanwhile, Gaz wasn't fascinated by Soap's ability to make anyone at ease, the man was a cassanova. Roach watched Adira with curiosity, as though piecing together a puzzle he hadn’t realized existed until now. Price stood off to the side, arms crossed, silently observing the whole scene.

“If you aren’t married, how’d you get this little one?” Soap pushed, grinning as he wiggled a playful finger in Adira’s direction.

Adira’s gaze snapped up from Ghost to the man with the funny hair, her little brow furrowing as she studied Soap with a mix of curiosity and caution. She leaned into your leg, clearly wary, but her attention stayed on the finger waving in front of her.

You chuckled, brushing a hand over Adira’s head to reassure her. “Long story,” you replied, smiling. “Let’s just say she was an unexpected blessing.”

Soap laughed softly, glancing at Ghost with a gleam in his eye. “Ah, aye, life’s full of surprises, eh?” 

Ghost, who had been studying Adira in silence, clenched his jaw, shifting uncomfortably as Soap’s words hit a little too close to home.

“I used to be really wild back in the day,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, a hint of nostalgia coloring your tone as you thought back to those not-so-distant years.

Soap wasn’t quite done yet, though. “Does the father know?” he threw a quick glance at Ghost, who had just risen from his crouched position. A new tension ran through Ghost’s frame, his stance rigid, as if the question had struck something he’d rather not confront.

You hesitated, a shadow crossing your expression before you shook your head. “No, he doesn’t… He, uh, probably has no idea.”

Ghost’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering from you to Adira, who was absorbed in her drink, unaware of the intensity surrounding her. His shoulders stiffened, and for a split second, he looked as though he wanted to speak—but whatever words he had caught in his throat, locked behind his silence.

"I see, well. I'm sorry if I took up your time, ma’am, you've been a nice chat," Soap said, his voice softening with a touch of politeness, his grin still present but more reserved now.

You nodded, giving Adira’s hand a gentle tug as you continued on your way, the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound accompanying your steps. The blue sky stretched above, peaceful, serene. As you walked, Adira turned her head, glancing back at Ghost one final time. She refused to let go of her cup, her small fingers gripping it tightly, but she lifted her other hand in a small, hesitant wave. "Bye-bye," she whispered, her voice soft but sweet.

Ghost’s gaze lingered, but he didn’t move. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of things churning behind those eyes. 

Price let out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms and facing Ghost. “So... what’s the plan?” he asked, his tone both blunt and expectant, clearly waiting for some kind of direction. The rest of the team stood in silence, watching the exchange unfold.

Ghost didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained on you and Adira, watching you both disappear further down the street, the distance growing with each step. The soft crunch of snow under your boots was the only sound in the quiet winter air. He didn’t even notice Price's voice until the man spoke again, closer now, with a slight edge to his tone.

"Ghost, talk to me. What’s the plan here?”

Finally, Ghost shifted, his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched as he turned to face Price. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something caught between anger, confusion, and a deep, gnawing regret.

"I don't know," he muttered, the words barely escaping his lips. "I wasn't expecting this. Hell, I didn't even know she existed." His voice was low, strained, but there was a quiet honesty to it, as if he was trying to process something that didn’t make sense.

Soap stepped closer, his expression serious for once. "What now, Ghost? We can help. But you need to tell us what's going on."

Ghost finally looked away, his attention drawn to the ground, his fingers twitching like he was trying to find something to hold onto. "I don't even know where to start," he admitted. "All I know is... I saw her. And it hit me like a fucking truck."

Roach, always one to stay in the background, spoke up. “Maybe it’s time to talk to her, yeah? Figure out where to go from here?”

Price’s eyes narrowed, his stern gaze shifting to Ghost, assessing him. “And what exactly do you want from us? You’re in this, whether you like it or not.”

Ghost let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know,” he repeated, voice hoarse. “But I can’t just let her slip away.”

A silence stretched between them, heavy and thick, as the weight of the situation settled in. Then, slowly, Ghost nodded. “I’ll figure it out. Just… not now. Not here.” His eyes flicked toward the street where you had disappeared, and something in his gaze softened, just for a moment, before the mask fell back into place.

Price gave a single nod. "Alright. But we stick together on this. You’re not doing it alone, Ghost."

The team stood together for a moment longer, the wind howling through the alley, before they slowly began to move, their steps trailing off into the winter evening. The silence that hung between them was thick with uncertainty. No one knew what came next, but they knew one thing for sure: whatever happened, they were in this together.

A month passed, the team giving Ghost the space he needed to process the whirlwind that had hit him. They all knew this was something he had to handle on his own terms, but that didn't mean the questions didn't linger. What did it mean for the future? What did he want? The answers were still unclear, even to Ghost himself.

But Soap, ever the persistent one, wasn’t content to let things sit in limbo. He knew Ghost, knew how his mind worked, and that sometimes the best way to breakthrough was to take small steps. And if that meant subtly nudging you into the picture, then so be it. He’d always been good at this—at slipping in the background, making things happen without anyone noticing.

So, Soap started to "accidentally" run nto you. At the park, when you were out with Adira, he'd make sure to be in the same place at the same time, offering a casual greeting. It always started simple, harmless, with a nod or a small comment about the weather. Then, of course, there was that coffee shop where you'd gone to get hot chocolate for Adira.

The first time he "bumped" into you there, it was nothing more than a quick exchange. A question about the drink, a comment on the cold weather, just the usual small talk. But Johnny's natural charm and ease made you relax, and made the conversation flow without much effort. Over time, those small moments grew. You'd smile when you'd see him, and he'd greet you with the same friendly energy, always leaving you feeling at ease. No pressure, just casual.

And slowly, ever so slowly, Johnny began to warm you up to the idea of him. It wasn't much at first—a smile here, a shared laugh there—but he knew what he was doing. He wasn't pushing, just letting the connection build at its own pace. The more you saw him, the more comfortable you felt. The more you talked, the more you found yourself enjoying the interactions, even if they were brief.

One evening, Johnny sat beside you on the park bench, casually leaning back as Adira bounced around in the snow, her laughter filling the crisp air. The sound was contagious, and for a moment, you let yourself relax, watching her with a soft smile.

"So, me and a couple friends are meeting up at Leslie's this weekend," Johnny said, his tone light but with a hint of something more. "Would you be interested?"

You snorted, expecting the usual joke or teasing, but when you glanced over at him, his expression was far more serious than you anticipated. For a moment, you considered dismissing it. After all, Leslie's? A pub? That was a far cry from the cozy routine you’d built for yourself with Adira. 

“Seriously?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think I fit the scene."

Johnny shrugged nonchalantly, the corner of his mouth lifting in that playful grin of his. “Please. It'll just be like old times.”

Your mind immediately wandered, trying to understand what he meant by that. What was it about old times that Johnny thought might appeal to you? You didn’t exactly have a wild past to cling to. Sure, you’d had your moments, but those felt long behind you now. 

Still, something about the invitation lingered. A night out... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. You hadn’t done anything for you in a while. And maybe, just maybe, it would be nice to let someone else take care of the night for once. No worrying about Adira, no responsibilities for a few hours. Just some fun, whatever that meant now.

You hesitated, looking down at Adira as she made another snow angel, oblivious to the conversation happening nearby. She’d be fine, right? And you could leave if things felt uncomfortable. 

“Alright,” you finally said, meeting Johnny’s gaze with a reluctant but genuine smile. "I'll join you. But only if it’s not as crazy as you’re making it sound." 

Johnny’s grin widened, and you could tell he was already mentally planning the evening, no doubt with some plan to ease you in without overwhelming you. He stood up, dusting off the snow on his pants as he glanced back at you.

“Deal. I’ll make sure it’s a night to remember.”

You just hoped he wasn’t overselling it.

The weekend seemed to arrive so fast, and here you were, standing outside your apartment, nervously adjusting your blue blouse and jeans. It wasn’t exactly the type of outfit you thought would fit a night out, but it was the best you could do. Most of your wardrobe these days consisted of comfortable clothes, ones that could be easily changed or wiped clean in case Adira had another of her toddler mishaps. Sexy or flirty clothes were a distant memory, tucked away in a drawer somewhere, gathering dust.

Adira stood in the doorway, clutching her little stuffed bear to her chest, eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. The sight hit you harder than you expected. You knelt down in front of her, your heart sinking at the sight of her teary eyes. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, I promise,” you said, your voice gentle but firm, reaching out to her with a reassuring smile.

Adira sniffled, her tiny hand coming up to rub her eyes, but she didn’t break her stare. You held out your pinky, the gesture as familiar as breathing. Slowly, she reached out, her small finger wrapping around yours with the same trust she always had. The connection was brief, but it felt like a promise, one that you hoped would calm her.

"I won't be out long," you said softly to the friend you’d left with her. "And you, be good for Auntie too." The last part was directed at Adira, though the words felt bittersweet on your tongue.

Adira nodded, but her face still held that sadness, that uncertainty of what the night would bring without you. 

Standing up, you ruffled her hair and offered a small, hopeful smile. “I’ll be back before you know it. Just a little fun for Mama, okay?”

Her small nod didn’t do much to ease the tightness in your chest, but you turned and gave her one last look before stepping outside. The cool evening air wrapped around you, a contrast to the warmth of the apartment behind you, but you pushed the feeling away. Tonight was for you, however strange that sounded. 

Locking the door behind you, you felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach. This wasn’t just any night out. It was a night with Johnny, with his friends, with the possibility of reconnecting to parts of yourself you’d set aside for so long.

Arriving outside the establishment, the familiar hum of chatter and music filled the night air, but what caught your attention first was Johnny standing outside, leaning against the brick wall, checking his watch. The moment his eyes met yours, they lit up, his expression shifting from casual to something almost... eager. 

“Well, well, look at you,” he said with that trademark wink of his, his gaze raking over you with a genuine appreciation that made you feel suddenly self-conscious. “You clean up well.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. It was hard to resist the easy charm of Johnny.

“Let’s just hope I survive this night,” you muttered, though the words were more for yourself than him. You weren’t sure what to expect tonight, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that things might not go as smoothly as Johnny seemed to think.

Johnny chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “I’m sure you will. Now, let’s get going before I change my mind.”

With that, you fell into step beside him, the weight of your hand at your side suddenly feeling strange in the cool night air. He led you toward the door, and as you entered the dimly lit space of the bar, your eyes scanned the room. 

It was bustling, a mix of regulars and newcomers, all seeking solace or company for the night. It smelled of beer, whiskey, and the faintest hint of fried food, a familiar and welcoming kind of atmosphere. But as soon as you stepped inside, your nerves shot back up again. You tried not to let the nerves show, but they were there, itching under your skin.

What you didn’t notice, as you made your way to the bar, was the group inside. Ghost, Price, Gaz, Roach—quietly observing, waiting for their chance to either speak to you or simply let you slip through their fingers once more. Ghost’s eyes tracked you the moment you stepped inside, and there was a hesitation in his gaze, something raw and almost pained that flickered in and out. 

For a moment, Ghost didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply watched you, aware that the moment he’d been dreading—he had finally stumbled into. Your gaze met his across the room, the flicker of recognition passing between you both. But that was it. You didn’t remember. You didn’t know him. You didn’t know what he was to you.

Approaching the bar, you saw that Johnny was already leaning in, chatting with the bartender, exchanging friendly banter. You barely heard the words, only caught up in the feeling that something was different. Something you couldn’t quite place. You glanced back at the table where those men sat. They weren’t talking, but their eyes were all trained on you, as if waiting for something to happen.

Your heart raced without explanation. Ghost’s eyes—those eyes—stayed locked on you. He didn’t know how to approach, how to change what had already seemingly been set in stone. What was he supposed to say? What was the plan now that you were here, so close? God, why the fuck did johnny do this.

Johnny leaned toward you again, a soft smile curling his lips. “You good, love?” he asked, his voice pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. You forced a smile, trying to ignore the uneasy tension brewing in your chest. “Just... getting used to being out.”

Johnny winked again, oblivious to the chaos of emotions swirling within you. “It’s all good. Let’s have some fun tonight, yeah?”

Ghost’s fist clenched involuntarily under the table. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this distance, this silent acknowledgment of his role, or how long he could ignore what it meant to see you here now. 

“You’ll fit right in,” Johnny said, though there was a hint of something deeper behind his words. “Just a bunch of mates enjoying a drink, nothing crazy.” Johnny leads you over to the table, you expected to be met with… well you didn't quite know what.  

Price leaned back in his seat, cigar in hand, a soft smile on his weathered face as he regarded you with a raised brow. “Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

"Neither did I," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile and doing your best to ignore the gnawing feeling that lingered when you looked at him. You hadn’t quite expected this part of the evening.

“I’m just here for a drink, nothing more,” you said, looking over at Johnny was getting comfortable in his chair.

“Well, pull up a seat, love,” Price said, motioning to the empty spot next to him. “We’re all friends here.”

You hesitated but made your way over, perching yourself on the seat next to him. The sound of the glass being slid toward you, the clink of ice against glass, broke through the chatter around you. Your nerves buzzed as you focused on the drink in front of you, trying to ignore the sudden realization of just how different this was from the quiet, routine life you had at home with Adira.

“Enjoy yourself,” Price said with an air of casual amusement, leaning back in his chair. “This is all new for you, isn’t it?”

You raised an eyebrow, not wanting to admit just how out of place you felt in the moment. Instead, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of whiskey warming you from the inside out.

You laugh lightly, a bit awkwardly, trying to shake off the nerves that gnawed at you. "Yeah, this all a bit... newish. I haven't been out like this in years honestly," you admit, taking a deep breath and glancing around the bar. The warmth of the space was a welcome contrast to the chill outside, but the sight of the men made you feel more like a fish out of water than ever.

Johnny claps you on the back with an easy grin, clearly trying to make you feel more comfortable. “These are my mates. Price, Kyle, Gary, and Simon," he introduces with a flourish, motioning to each man in turn. 

You give them all a polite smile, not quite sure what to make of them just yet. There was something about the way they carried themselves, all standing a little apart from the crowd, that made it clear they were more than just regulars at the pub. But you didn’t have time to focus too much on that right now. You were trying to just survive the night.

Price, who looked a bit older than the rest, nods at you, his gaze thoughtful, almost cautious. “Nice to meet you,” he says in a tone that is polite but distant, as though he’s waiting for something, some sign.

Kyle, as Johnny had called him—gives you a friendly nod, a playful glint in his eyes, but there's a strange sharpness to his look that you can’t quite place. “Pleasure," he says, offering you a tight smile.

Gary simply gives you a quick but sincere nod. His eyes linger on you just long enough for you to catch a flicker of interest before he looks away.

And then there’s Simon. His presence, as always, is quieter, more intense. He’s sitting in the middle, arms crossed, his gaze fixed directly on you. You can feel the weight of it, though. It’s impossible not to. There was something you couldn't place with him though you couldn’t see too well under the dim light.

You try to shake off the unease creeping up your spine. “Nice to meet you all," you reply, your voice warmer than you feel. 

Johnny, oblivious to the awkwardness in the air, slaps the bar and gives a nod. “Alright, drinks all around, yeah? Let’s get this party started!” he declares, pulling the group into the rhythm of the night.

As the revelry began your stomach churns slightly, a sense of unease still lingering despite the distraction. You knew something was off, something you couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just the men—it was the way Simon’s gaze lingered on you, the way he looked at you as if he were waiting for something. It unsettled you, but you couldn’t figure out why.

Johnny, seemingly oblivious to your tension, slides a drink toward you. “First round’s on me," he grins, the clink of glass against the table snapping you back to the present. "Here’s to a good night.”.

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the nerves that still clung to you. This was supposed to be a night out, after all. A chance to shake off the past, to let loose just a little. You couldn’t let the weight of everything pull you under before you even tried. What would be the point if you didn’t at least try and enjoy yourself?

Shaking the tension from your shoulders, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of alcohol easing the knot in your stomach just slightly. The guys were chatting among themselves, Johnny’s laughter cutting through the low hum of the bar as he joked with Kyle. Price was listening intently, nodding along while Gary seemed content to let the others talk, his eyes occasionally flicking to you, though his gaze didn’t linger long.

And then there was Simon.

His presence loomed even when he wasn’t speaking, his broad frame leaning against the bar just slightly, face half hidden by the shadows. You caught his eyes for a split second, the intensity of his stare making your pulse hitch. You quickly looked away, focusing on your drink, your nerves creeping back up despite the effort to push them aside.

You could feel his gaze on you, though, like a weight pressing against your back. You tried not to let it show, tried not to acknowledge how his proximity seemed to pull at something inside you, but it was impossible to ignore. There was a pull, something in the air, but you couldn’t quite grasp it.

Sighing inwardly, you turned your attention back to the others. Just enjoy yourself, you remind yourself again. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of it.

Johnny clinked his glass against yours, a grin on his face. “Here’s to not letting the night pass us by,” he said with a wink, and you couldn’t help but smile back, lifting your glass.

“Cheers,” you said, the warmth of the alcohol giving you just the nudge you needed to ease into the evening. For now, you’d ignore the tight feeling in your chest. You’d enjoy yourself. 

But the eyes that lingered on you would remain, whether you were ready for them or not.

You pushed your chair back with more force than necessary, the scrape of it against the floor loud in the otherwise quiet bar. The conversation still echoed in your ears, but your focus had been on the man, Simon, for the past half hour. His silence had become suffocating, every glance he cast in your direction feeling like it held some hidden meaning. You couldn't quite place it, but something was off about him. His eyes, cold and intense, had followed you too much, made you second guess every word you’d said.

"Im... gonna go powder my nose," you muttered, more to fill the silence than anything else. You didn’t wait for a response, the words barely out of your mouth before you were already making your way across the room, past the low hum of idle chatter and the clink of glasses.

While you were in the bathroom, the entire team turned their attention towards Ghost, each of them sizing him up, starting with Soap.

"What is wrong with you?" Soap asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

"What?" Simon blinked, genuinely confused.

"Mate, you've been gawking at her all night," Gaz added, raising an eyebrow, his voice teasing but laced with concern.

"Shit. Are you serious?" Simon muttered, running a hand through his hair, but his gaze didn't stray far from where you had just disappeared.

Roach, leaning back casually with his drink in hand, nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, it's like you’ve been stuck in a staring contest with her since she walked in."

Price, who had been watching quietly, shook his head with a resigned sigh. He snuffed out his cigar in the nearby ashtray, eyes narrowing as he met Simon's gaze. "If you scared her off, I doubt you’ll get another chance, lad."

Simon’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t realized how obvious it had been, but now that the team was calling him out on it, he felt the heat rise in his chest. He hadn’t meant to make you uncomfortable, but the pull to look at you, to remember what had sparked your connection all those years ago had been almost magnetic.

“Alright, alright,” Soap teased, leaning in, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just don't burn a hole in her head.”

“Shut up,” Simon muttered, his mind racing, trying to figure out how to fix this without making things worse.

Price shared a look with the rest of the team, a silent understanding passing between them. While Soap might have been the one to set this whole thing in motion, it didn't mean the others didn't have contingencies in place. 

Soap got up first, stretching a bit. “Gonna make sure no one's tried to get in my car,” he said with a casual tone.

“I’ll come with you,” Gaz chimed in, already pushing himself up from his seat and following Soap toward the door.

A minute later, Roach also stood, excusing himself without a word, and then Price followed suit, his movements deliberate. “I’m gonna make sure they’re not up to anything,” he said with a knowing glance.

With everyone out of the immediate area, the bar suddenly felt quieter, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken. It took Ghost only a second for it all to click—he had been set up. Without thinking, he bolted from his seat, rushing outside just in time to catch the taillights of Soap's car disappearing down the street.

He cursed under his breath, but before he could make another move, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen. There, in simple words from Price: 

“Good luck.”

Ghost stood still for a moment, phone in hand, as the weight of the situation hit him. His heart thudded in his chest. This was it. There was no turning back now.

By the time you returned to the table, you felt a bit more at ease. The night out wasn’t all that bad… it was just that Johnny had some weird taste in friends. Well, mostly the tall one. You couldn’t help but notice how everyone seemed to have left, a pit forming in your stomach at the thought of being ditched.

You let out a quiet sigh, about to gather your things and head out when your phone lit up in your purse. Pulling it out, you saw a text from Johnny. 

"Emergency, looks like one of the beers wasn't that good, poor Kyle threw up."

You paused, reading the message again, a small smile tugging at your lips. Aww… nevermind. At least they hadn’t forgotten about you after all. 

"Hope he's okay." You replied quickly, grabbing the straps of your bag when suddenly a hand landed on top of yours.

You looked up, meeting the intense gaze of Simon. Seriously? You couldn’t help but think. They took everyone but this guy?

You forced a smile, trying to pull your hand away, but Simon’s grip was firm, not unkind. “Look, I had a decent time, but I have to go—”

“Just a minute,” he interrupted, his voice low, steady, almost pleading. There was something about the way he said it that made you pause, something different than the usual small talk.

"Fine." The word slipped out before you could process it, and you cursed yourself inwardly. Really? You just agreed to stay with the guy who hadn’t stopped staring since you met him. You sat back down, and he mirrored you, settling across the table. 

Silence stretched between you, his intense gaze unwavering. He didn’t so much as blink, and you couldn’t help but feel more unsettled by the second.

What the hell is his deal?

“Look, if you're just going to be a creep, I don't think I want to mee—"

“Do you remember Armed Forces Day?” His voice cut through your words, quiet but resolute.

Okay, this took all day, I wanted to give you all something long to read incase I disappear for finals (which I might)

Reblogs appreciated!!!

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[explanationpoint]

…

[strawmaerry]

gojo & megumi. | g. satoru

gojo satoru bringing home fushiguro megumi was something you did not anticipate of.

you were cooking a welcome home food for your menace, satoru, when he startled you with his teleportation and a frowning kid.

“hello to my prettiest girl, the love of my life, the light in the dar—”

you shushed him. “i thought you work as a sorcerer, never thought you would take kidnapping as a part time job.”

he pouted. he had the audacity to be offended. “excuse me?! how dare you accuse me of such blasphemous claim?”

you shrugged, used to his outrageous reactions. “well, you’re definitely the type of man that my mom warned me about. those guys who would entice you with candies just to get in a van?” you looked at him, up and down, “yup, that’s you.”

before he could answer, you heard a snicker from the kid. your lips slightly curled up before raising an eyebrow at your irritating (affectionately) boyfriend.

“oh,” he stupidly realized, “this is megumi, i’ve bought him from an auction.”

megumi kicked satoru’s shin and he pretended to be hurt. the spiky-haired boy dusted off the invisible particles on his clothes.

you snorted before going back to cooking dinner.

“so, tell me why you decided to change career that involves kidnapping children?”

“well, i wanted to practice on how to take care of a child when we decided to have one.”

you accidentally put your hand over the burning stove and satoru practically flies to you. he basically becomes a mother hen as he blows your hands.

“[name]! oh my god, what happened?”

you go to the sink to wash your hands as you blankly stare at your burning hands. oh man, you think your hearing is deteriorating. you’re hearing some things that are… impossible.

“satoru, you’re not funny.”

satoru, who has the most alabaster skin, pales. he’s hearing his government name. not ‘toru, baby, pretty boy, my husband.

“haha, pretty baby, what do you mean? i’m always funny. ha. ha.”

“don’t kid around like that. you know our job is…” you trail off, unable to continue the sentiment.

in a world where you attend more funerals than birthdays; you greet more corpse than people; having to work under those ungrateful elders, tomorrow is uncertainty, so you try to enjoy the present as much as you’re alive.

he seems confused for a moment before a dawning realization etches on his face. his eyes soften before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“i really wanna see you carry my babies, y’know? wanna see you round and full an—okay! i know we’re still not finish in school but whenever i see my future, i see you in it. i see us together. i see us forever and i want that. i don’t want to live in a life without your presence. you brought me so much joy if you weren’t crying right now, i would be on my knees begging for you to take me. make me your one and only. make me the happiest and luckiest man on earth because that’s my only purpose why i was born in this cruel, yet beautiful world. i live for you.”

tears run down on your cheeks as you hear satoru’s honest thoughts about his joke. oh my god, how did a simple joke turn into an almost-but-not-quite proposal?

you cradle his face between your hands and kiss his sweet, soft lips that utter nothing but devotion to you. you feel him smile against yours.

[inuyashaluver]

Hi lovely I love ur stuff 🩷 I have a little request/idea - obviously feel free to ignore it

I was thinking R has a really thick accent (English - either Scouse (Liverpool), Geordie (Newcastle) or West Country (Devon/Somerset/Farmer) or Aussie or something really thick like hard to understand from native speakers let alone anyone else) but R plays in Barca and has a crush on a Spanish player (Maybe Patri? maybe Ona? Maybe Alexia?) and is tryna talk to them more and maybe ask them out but they just get looked at funny and they walk off and she goes to Kiera and Lucy and is like what have I done? Do they all hate me? And [Crush] overheads them and goes round to their house after training and is like I really wanna get to know u, I think you’re really pretty etc but I cannot understand a word that comes out of ur mouth to the point where I am questioning whether it’s English

qu��? - alexia putellas

alexia putellas x reader

description: in which your accent proves to be difficult to understand

warnings: LONG!! swearing, misunderstandings, spanish in bold italics

a/n: i love this woman, your honour!! i was writing alexia angst but had to put out the fluff haha!! thank you so much for the love and request, lovely!! ily and enjoy ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ��� ⋆

you never thought your accent would get you into trouble but you were entirely wrong. and we’re not talking about trouble like criminal, we’re talking romantically.

—

you’re from liverpool, your thick, scouse accent distinct in your dialect. at home in england, the accent was understood most of the time, with an occasional person asking for clarification about your words but you didn’t mind.

even some of your england teammates had to ask you to repeat yourself occasionally when you got overly excited or stressed, your accent proving to be the hardest to understand at those moments.

you often needed a translator for even native english speakers if you spoke too quickly, lucy and later grace helping out when people were truly confused.

when lucy and keira moved from manchester city, you moved with them, having played in the club for 2 years and desperately wanting a change. and so, when the contract arrived from barcelona for the three of you, you accepted it without a second thought.

you had supported barcelona in liga F, having a huge appreciation for the way the spanish players moved, the quick passes and the goals that came out of nowhere. you were excited to pick up those skills to adapt to your own play.

and through your extensive research, you grew a special appreciation for alexia. in your eyes, alexia was the definition of perfect, not only her football skills, but her as a whole.

you would watch her interviews and videos for ‘research purposes’, claiming it was to practise your spanish. and it was, until you zoned out hearing the gentle hum of alexia’s voice, getting distracted entirely but you weren’t complaining.

when you got caught making heart eyes at your phone during england camp, the teasing was so relentless it wasn’t even funny.

—

“our little (y/n) has a crush on la reina! (the queen)” lucy exclaims in the change room, you immediately turn off your phone and look up at her with an icy glare, only making her smile at you affectionately with a pinch to your cheek that you were quick to swat away.

“you’re not much older than me” you glare, “5 years is 5 years” she shrugs, moving away when you launched an empty bottle at her.

“go on, tell us about your crush” leah smiles, millie and rachel pretend to kiss each other while looking at you and you heat up in the cheeks.

“i’m only watching so i can pick up spanish” you defend, lucy laughs loudly, out of the three transfers, she was definitely the one who picked up the most spanish.

“excuse me, lucia, and everyone in here,” you scoff, “is it such a crime to watch a video of my future captain?” your accent was so heavy at this point, everyone cracked a little smile at you.

“so you were watching videos of alexia then?” leah smirks, you let out a frustrated groan, “leah, shut up man” everyone laughs, the teasing continuing until keira and alessia told everyone to stop.

during the whole of camp, it wasn’t uncommon you got caught looking at photos or videos of alexia, the teasing was so bad you thought you would explode.

—

when the time finally came for you to join barcelona, you were incredibly nervous. the fear of underperforming playing on your mind, only becoming worse at the thought of embarrassing yourself in front of a certain blonde you couldn’t take your mind off.

lucy and keira assured you everything would be fine, but you weren’t convinced, unsure of how you’d react when you finally saw alexia.

when you all walked to the change rooms, it was shocking how welcoming everyone was. hugs and kisses to the cheeks had you feeling so accepted amongst your new team.

and funnily enough, the last person to greet you was alexia, sending you a charming smile that had your stomach erupting with butterflies.

“(y/n), yes? bienvenida! (welcome)” alexia grins, her arms pulling you into a warm hug, her scent enveloping you and making you borderline dizzy.

“(y/n) is a big fan of you” lucy teases as alexia lets you slip from the hug after you mumble a quick hello. alexia gives a surprised smile, looking between a cheeky looking lucy and a sheepish looking you.

“you’re very good, too, I look forward to playing with you,” alexia’s hand moved to give your bicep a gentle squeeze and you swore your heart stopped, your cheeks were tinged with pink and you could barely formulate a sentence.

“yeah, i’m excited to play with ya” you breathe out, you move to your new cubby and get changed into the barcelona kit, feeling at home already even though it was your first day.

due to you busying yourself with avoiding alexia, you missed the way her gaze lingered on you as you changed, she was intrigued by you.

what you didn’t know was alexia had done her own forms of research. she had heard your name countless times in the media, a rising star in the making.

she respected the way you played, a midfielder who wasn’t afraid to take risks but also managed to avoid fouls frequently.

she wanted to get to know you as much as you wanted to get to know her.

—

weeks and months fly by and it was easy to say you felt comfortable amongst the team. your spanish was surprisingly getting better, being able to go through training without a translator most of the time.

the girls reciprocated you well, you’d go to team bonding nights and laugh and joke around with them. it was obvious to everyone except alexia that you were harbouring a crush on the captain.

the ways your eyes would follow her every move with pink cheeks honestly exposed yourself. and what made it harder was that alexia and you were growing closer each day.

—

one day you were chatting with mapi and ingrid, more like you getting teased while you begged them to stop before you were interrupted by a certain someone.

“do you want to be my partner?” alexia questions from behind you suddenly, making you choke on your own spit as she looked at you with a kind smile. “really?” you breathe out, she nods, nodding her head to the pitch for you to follow her.

you’d both been able to converse easily as the months went by, she’d have to ask you to slow down a couple of times when you both talked about something you had in common but it worked.

as you both trained together, you chatted and laughed, talking about random topics.

when you both got to shooting practice, alexia analysed your every move. she would give little nods of approval when you touched the ball, sending you an encouraging smile if you made eye contact, your heart was fluttering around her.

“you should put more weight into your hips when you kick” alexia corrects, you look at her questioningly, she huffs out a little laugh and comes to stand behind you.

her large hands place themselves on your hips and she turns them slightly to the front. her front was pressed against your back and you certainly weren’t breathing. she noticed you tense but chose to ignore it.

“focus here before you kick so it’s stronger” alexia says next to your ear, squeezing your hips gently before letting go of you. “try again, vamos! (let’s go)” she exclaims, you do as she says with her corrections and it was a much better result.

she smiles proudly, “buena niña! (good girl)” she laughs, coming up to you to squeeze your shoulders encouragingly, your cheeks were burning.

the entire team watched the interaction with big grins, ready to tease you for how sheepish you looked.

“gracias (thank you), ale” you scratch the back of your neck with an embarrassed smile, she shakes her head, “it’s nothing, thank me with a goal next game” she jokes, pinching your cheek teasingly before walking off to get some water.

you’re left there in shock, lucy and keira approaching with cheesy grins. “you’re in love” lucy coos, poking your shoulder teasingly while you shielded yourself in a hug from keira.

“i’m so fucking stupid, why can’t i be normal” you groan, keira laughs, her hand rubbing up and down your back. “you’re just shy, which is weird to see because you’re the complete opposite” she laughs, you pull back to throw her a glare.

“it’s cute” lucy chuckles, “i can’t wait to tell everyone about the development” she grins, her and keira share a hearty laugh seeing your face go pale, while you attempted not to scream.

“don’t you fucking dare” you grit out, “i won’t” lucy winks, unfortunately she did and by the time training was over, your phone was blowing up with text messages talking about the interaction.

you looked at lucy with a stone cold glare while she blew you a kiss, alexia watched how angry you were, she could practically feel it radiating off you on the other side of the change room.

“estás bien? (are you okay)” alexia walks up to you, holding a cold drink out to you. you take it after a moment of hesitation, “uh, yeah, sí” you smile, “lucia is annoying you?” alexia grins, looking over at lucy to see her and keira whispering while looking at you. “yes, she’s very annoying” you grumble, your eyebrows furrowing.

alexia smiles fondly at you, her hand moving to your face, her thumb smoothing out the crease between your eyebrows. “wrinkles” she tutts, your breath caught in the back of your throat as you looked up at her.

“are you coming tonight?” she says like she didn’t just make you flatline. she’s talking about a team bonding session at her house. “yeah, i think so” you smile at her, “think or know?” she teases, was she flirting with you?

“know, i’ll be there” you mock, she nods with a pleased expression, “hasta luego, lindura (see you later, cutie)” she winks, moving to grab her bag from her cubby and leave, making sure to look back at you another time with a soft smile before walking out.

you get pulled out of your trance once you hear your phone blowing up again, checking it to see lucy had recorded you watching alexia leave. you throw your head back in frustration but chose to avoid letting the older girl feel your wrath, you were still on a buzz from the thought of alexia flirting with you.

—

when you arrived at alexia’s house, you brought her a bottle of wine with a sheepish grin. when she opened the door for you, she pulled you into the warmest hug, both of you fitting together like a puzzle.

“finalmente! (finally) i was waiting for you!” she grins as she pulls away, taking the wine out of your hands and grabbing one of yours to drag you into the living room where everyone was.

her hand was so warm against yours, soft against your skin and you really didn’t want her to let go. “you look beautiful” alexia smiles before she ushers you to sit down, you barely had the time to tell her how breathtaking she looked, dressed casually but still looking like she could be on the front of a magazine.

you sit next to mapi and she immediately bombards you with questions, “have you kissed yet?” she questions, you slap her knee, “ingrid, your girlfriend is a bully” you huff, ingrid laughs, nodding along with you with an apologetic smile.

everyone was watching a movie while eating, alexia sitting beside you, the two of you would chat back and forth with small giggles and smiles shared between you.

by the time the night was ending, alexia’s arm was resting behind you on the couch, basically over your shoulder while you were in your own little bubble.

when you left that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about all the interactions you had with the catalan, you needed to do something about it. fast.

—

on a match day for barcelona, you decided it was time for you to tell her about your feelings. it was clear you were flirting with each other. confirmed during the game.

in the second half, you managed to get a goal, using the technique alexia had taught you a couple of days prior.

she was the first one to you after, the loud roar of the crowd drowned out when you felt alexia’s strong arms wrapping around your waist.

you both smiled so brightly as she congratulated you, placing you on the ground, giving you an affectionate kiss on the forehead and squeezing your shoulders. this told you everything. it wasn’t just her being friendly, it was alexia making a move.

at the end of the match, the two of you lingered in the middle of the pitch, you were fidgeting so much alexia was worried.

“(y/n)?” she dips her head to make eye contact with you, “estás bien? (are you okay)” you nod, opening your mouth to speak but nothing came out. “take a deep breath” she smiles, a hand on your shoulder offering you comfort but also stressing you out.

“ale” you start, she nods with an encouraging smile, “i really fancy ya, ale, i’ve been wantin’ to tell ya for a while” you blurt out, alexia’s eyebrows furrow, she looks a little confused.

the silence was loud, why hasn’t she said anything back. if this was her rejection, it hurt more than anything she could have verbalised.

“you know what, forget i said anythin’” you run off before she could say anything. “qué? (what)” she was about to ask you to repeat yourself, one - because you were speaking too fast, two - she didn’t know what fancy meant.

you heard her call out for you but you ran into the change room, knowing keira and lucy were in there. “keira!” you yell, “fucking check my pulse!” you shove your arm in her face and she looks at you in shock. only a couple of people were inside, and the ones that were were shocked at how you tumbled into the room.

“jesus, your heart is going so fast” keira says as she presses her fingers to the inside of your wrist. “fuck, why couldn’t you tell me i’m dead and this is a nightmare” you groan, your hands running over your face frustratingly.

“what’s wrong with you?” lucy says as she walks out of the shower to see you in absolute shambles. “everything!” you explain each and every detail and they look at you sympathetically, understanding now why you were so upset.

what you didn’t know was alexia was outside, ear pressed to the door as she heard you explain that you were trying to confess. she feels her stomach tighten, cursing herself for not understanding what you were saying.

“whatever, i’m going home, don’t follow me” you grit, tears pooling at your waterline as you rush out. alexia had moved out of eyeline when she heard you, quickly going into the change room and drilling lucy and keira for your address that they happily gave her with sly grins. happy to know it was all a misunderstanding.

—

that afternoon, you hastily wiped your tears away thinking about alexia. you had misunderstood her intentions clearly, you were disappointed with yourself.

you heard the banging from the front door and groaned, knowing your fellow england teammates were probably on the other side with ice cream and apologetic smiles.

“i told you both not to follow me-” you huff, the door opening to see alexia standing there, a bouquet of bright flowers in hand. “hola (hello)” she smiles, “what are you doing here?” you ask softly, “can i come in?” you nod, moving back a little so she could step inside. she hands you the flowers and you take them with a confused expression.

what type of rejection was this?

“i heard you speaking to lucy and keira before” she starts nervously, both of you walking to the kitchen so you could put the flowers in water, they were beautiful.

“it’s fine if you don’t feel the same” you shrink into yourself, brushing the petals of one of the flowers between your fingers.

“hermosa (beautiful)” she calls out, moving around your counter to stand directly in front of you. “me gustas mucho, y quiero estar contigo (i like you a lot, i want to be with you)” she says earnestly, speaking in her mother tongue and hoping you understood because she was speaking from the heart.

you freeze, each and every word quickly translated in your head. “amor (love), you’re very beautiful and nice but you speak very fast, i did not understand a word you said before” she laughs, you can’t help but laugh too, shaking your head at how fast you fled the situation.

“i’m sorry, ale” you grin, “don’t be” she dismisses, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, relishing in the blush she just produced on your cheeks.

“me gustas mucho (i like you a lot), alexia” you smile, she gives you a dazzling expression, appreciating how you spoke her mother tongue to her so she really understood this time. “muy bien, preciosa! (very good, precious)” she coos affectionately, her hand cradling your cheek as she directed your eyes to hers.

“we will teach each other, sí?” she grins cheekily, you hum along with her words, “sí”.

she pulls you closer to place a sweet kiss on your lips, your stomach lurching at how soft they were against yours.

you both smile into it as she drew you closer, your arms wrapping around her neck while her free hand came to rest on the small of your back to press you against her.

she pulls away, not without pressing a few more kisses to your lips through the giggles and the small chatter between the two of you.

—

when you both came to training the next day hand in hand, sighs of relief were heard from everyone. lucy whipped out her phone as quickly as she could and sent pictures to the england group chat, your phone blowing up more than ever.

now that the team saw you interact, the teasing somehow got worse every time alexia would kiss you, or even hold your hand.

the pining drove everyone insane but the loved up versions of the two of you were insufferable. you were attached at the hip, just how you and alexia wanted.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you xx

liked by keirawalsh and 44,232 others

alexiaputellas: mi niña (my girl)

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yourname: mami

↳ alexiaputellas: i didn’t teach her this

↳ marialeonn16: sureeeee

lucybronze: the most annoying couple ever

↳ yourname: shut up man

↳ leahwilliamsonn: there she is!!

↳ keirawalsh: she went soft but is still a shit head

↳ yourname: @/alexiaputellas bebé! defend me!

↳ alexiaputellas: you are soft

↳ yourname: the betrayal is unreal

[hyunsvngs]

𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 - fem!chanlix x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

cw: established poly relationship, porn with some plot, please note chanlix are gender swapped here!! 18+ SMUT MDNI.

a/n: and if you thought i’d see pride month without a juno wlw fic you’d be WRONG!!!! i hope you enjoy fem chanlix here because they are so sweetieful to me <3 as usual smut warnings under the cut!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: oral, scissoring, lots of dirty talk, daddy kink, spit, kind of d/s dynamics (all are kinda switchy), squirting, some voyeur/exhibitionist undertones

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sunlight through the curtains is the first thing you see when you wake up. with your head turned to the side, the first thing you notice is how warm it is - the toned, muscled body of one of your girlfriends sidled up to you doesn’t help, and when you finally turn to face in front of you, your other girlfriend is perched on your lap.

you can still remember your dream. it was a memory, almost, if not for the way your girlfriends looked like they do now. it was a sweet retelling of how they asked you to be theirs, officially - a year ago today - chan’s beanie pulled low on long, dark curls, her mouth twisted in a shy smile. “so, uh- haha, you’re welcome to say no! but, we would like it if you’d say yeah…” she chuckled, wiping her hands on her joggers. lix had only kissed your cheek sheepishly and held your hand over the table the entire time, honey-toned legs crossed in her pretty little sundress.

it was a sweet memory. funny, almost, to remember how they’d been so incredibly oblivious that it’s always been them for you.

however, you’re horny, embarrassingly so considering you’ve just woken up. you’re convinced lix’s little frame on top of you is enough to get anyone going, though. it has to be a fact.

“happy anniversary, bubby,” lix’s voice is quiet, but you still hear the way she’s tried to put that weird voice she does on to make you giggle. it works, and you snicker, hands moving to her waist. she’s always tiny on top of you, your little doll, eyes anything but innocent in her white dainty nightgown. her little hands move to your shoulders and begin kneading, as she always does, and she lets out a loud, ostentatious “mwah” when she pecks at your nose. your kitty loves to love, but you know better. she has ulterior motives. “ah, actually, we gotta be quiet. channie’s asleep.”

“no ‘m not,” a familiar voice responds, groggy with sleep, and you turn to look at the other love of your life. her long, curly hair drapes over her face, but you can see an eye open and staring at you, sparkling with glee. one palm, calloused from lifting weights, moves to brush over lix’s waist, and you feel her wiggle on top of you, satisfied. chan shifts, pressing a kiss into your cheek, and the feeling of her lips has you humming. “happy anniversary, beautiful girls.”

“wow, channie,” you giggle, voice still hoarse. it’s the first time you’ve spoken, and felix grins, her mouth widening from ear to ear. “so smooth.”

chan blushes, as she always does. “haha, baby, don’t make fun of me. it’s our anniversary.”

lix wiggles on your lap, and then she’s lying directly on top of you, her chest pressing into yours. “it is our anniversary,” she confirms, wet tongue poking out to lick at the skin of your neck. it makes you gasp and jolt, and chan only smiles fondly, pressing another kiss into your hairline. lix tries to catch her mouth with hers when she pulls away, but chan’s too quick. she huffs and turns to you instead. “let me eat your pussy. for our anniversary.”

“lix!” chan shrieks. “it’s 8 in the morning.”

“eat it,” you respond, pushing at lix’s head. she’s all too happy to be maneouvered, and chan tries to at least pretend she’s shocked when lix is on her way to make a home between your legs. you know she’ll be involved as soon as the moment comes. “i’m horny, lixie. will you eat it?”

“mm, i’ll eat it,” she nods dutifully. her little button nose is pressing at your sleep shorts now, earnestly nudging the fabric to the side to uncover your folds underneath. you’re already wet, you know you are - the sight of your love on top of you like an eager cat was a little too much to wake up to, and she eventually gets impatient and yanks your shorts to the side instead. she grins again. “woah, nice ‘n wet down here. from me?”

“from you,” you confirm, breathlessly, and felix sucks the pudge of your clit into her mouth as your reward. she never wastes time, batting the button over and over with the tip of her tongue, and you writhe with a gasp at the stimulation. you assume chan’s content to watch for now, her body warm against you, but she gets even closer and slides one of those firm hands up your shirt. felix looks up at you both from between your legs with wide eyes, hands moving to pull your thighs apart further for her. “oh, c-channie. channie, channie, look at her.”

“yeah, i know, baby,” chan responds, voice as strained as if she’s the one getting her cunt ate. you don’t doubt she will be after. chan’s fingers move to one of your nipples and tug hard just as felix’s tongue breaches your hole, filthy and insistent, and you reach down to grab at lix’s hair. the short, blonde mullet is soft between your fingers, and you can’t help pulling at it to hear her whimper into your folds.

chan leans over you. her hair covers both of you like a curtain, thick and curly, and you grasp her cheek with your spare hand to focus on her. you’re a little hazy from lix’s onslaught of pleasure, her tongue determined and fingers just as bad when they move up to your hole, but you try to focus on your eldest.

“ah, fuck, look at you,” chan murmurs, hand moving up. her thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and you suck it into your mouth. she groans. “oh, baby. c’mere. give daddy a kiss, won’t you?”

if it had been months ago, chan would be embarrassed, blushing over the way you and her girlfriend cry out the familiar nickname. instead, her eyes are half lidded as she descends upon you, looking every bit like your wet dream, tits heaving in her sports bra. chan barely sleeps in anything, and you want to just watch her - you know her thighs look delicious the way they’re exposed in her briefs, but her fat lips mouth at yours and you open your mouth obediently.

you’re free to moan into chan’s mouth. you do so, unabashed when felix’s tongue moves upwards to flick at your clit and two of her fingers finally, finally slide in. they’re only small but she curls them dutifully anyway, pushing in and in until she’s brushing over that spongey spot that makes your tongue curl. you pull away from chan with a wet noise to cry out, both of your hands moving to lix’s hair to keep her where you need her.

“grind on her fucking face,” chan says, firm. you have to listen. now that she’s more awake, you’re not surprised that she’s taking control of the situation, and you grip felix’s head in place with a sharp moan from her. it doesn’t take long for you to listen, ever the diligent girl for your daddy, and your hips start to grind against felix’s tongue and fingers. “how’s it feel, baby? is she eating it good?”

“s-so good,” you keen, and felix moans into your folds. her fingers start to fuck into you faster, bouncing against your g-spot, and your stomach starts to burn with your impending orgasm. “she’s gonna make me cum. daddy- daddy, channie, she’s gonna make me cum.”

“yeah? good girl, lixie,” chan coos, fingers brushing through your hair. the comforting motion makes you hum, and when felix slides a third finger in, the stretch has you squirming. chan’s eyes are fixated on where her girlfriend’s mouth meets your core, and she moans at the sight. “that’s it. stretch that pussy out, there’s a good girl.”

“fuck, i-it’s so much, it’s so much,” you babble, hips still working up a frenzy, and chan wraps your hair around her fist and pulls. combined with the feeling of felix sucking your clit into her mouth again, and her fingers hitting you just right, your pussy clenches up and gushes down to your girlfriend’s knuckles. “i’m c-cumming, i’m- i’m cumming, cumming, baby, kitty cat, g-good girl, fuck- fuck, my pussy feels so good, channie-”

chan slides two fingers between your lips to shut you up. it’s for the best, you assume, with the rest of the 3racha dorm still present in different rooms, and you suck obediently while you shake through your orgasm. it’s powerful, your thighs clenching with it, and felix waits until your shaking has subsided to slide her little fingers out.

“daddy, y’wanna taste?” she says, voice deep, and chan nods, lips parting. felix’s digits slide between chan’s lips and down, down, down, pressing on her tongue to the point she’s almost gagging. felix likes to pretend she has power like this, and you lay there breathlessly while your daddy sucks at your baby’s fingers. felix just smiles. “i’m so fucking horny.”

“mm,” chan smacks her lips against felix’s fingertips, nibbling on them playfully. you and felix both giggle. “delicious pussy. why don’t you rub yours against our baby’s tasty cunt, kitty?”

felix blanches. her fingers are still wet and her eyes widen as if it’s the best idea she’s ever heard. it probably is, and she nods eagerly as if the cogs in her head have finally started working.

“yeah. yeah. wanna- wanna rub my pussy against you, let me, let me,” felix rushes, yanking her nightgown over her head. she’s not wearing anything underneath, and the sparse freckles over her tummy have you fixated, little chest bouncing as she moves towards you. her cunt is soaked too, waxed clean and pretty pretty pretty, brown folds parting and sticking together with her wetness. she slings one lithe thigh over yours, and when she moves forward the initial touch of her clit against yours makes you whine. you’re still sensitive, wet with your cum, but you spread your thighs for her anyway. “‘s good, yeah? f-fuck, you’re so wet. cunt’s so fucking wet.”

“lix, you’re fucking filthy,” chan remarks, always affronted by how dirty her mouth gets. felix doesn’t care, grinning wildly as she grinds her pussy against yours, and the wet clacking noises make you blush. it’s messy, folds sliding together with every grind of yours, but you’re happy to just lay there and let her take, take, take.

chan finally pulls your shirt off too, impatient, and the jiggling of your tits as you get fucked against makes her groan. when she sits up to lean over where the two of you meet, you’re not expecting her to spit down against your already soaked cores, and you wail at the feeling of everything getting wetter. it’s so messy down there, and felix’s clit glides against yours with it.

lix starts babbling. she always does. “f-fuck, no, fuck, i’m so- i’m gonna cum, oh my god, bubs,” she’s wailing, tits bouncing as she starts to thrust harder, hips gyrating against you. you swear you can see the bite of tears in her eyes, but yours are half lidded too - you’re whimpering with every messy gyrate, trying to buck your hips up to get more of the sensation. “channie, kiss. kiss, kiss me, please, daddy, please, i’m gonna cum.”

chan grabs felix’s hair, yanking her hair back, and spits into her mouth. felix gasps, surging forward to kiss chan harder, messier, tongues darting against eachother. she’s getting closer and closer, legs starting to tremble against yours, and it only takes a nip of her teeth to lix’s bottom lip to have her falling over the edge. she grips at chan’s toned biceps, moaning freely into her mouth, pussy gushing over yours.

you can’t be disappointed that you didn’t cum again because when lix pulls away, there’s a cute faint blush underneath her freckles, fading down to her chest. she’s out of breath, nipples pebbled from her arousal, and it only takes a look between you both for chan to be pinned to the bed. she lays there, arms akimbo in shock, and you and felix slide in either side of her.

“oh, are you two done playing now?” chan grins. she’s being playful and you can’t have that. your hands move to grip at her sports bra, wrenching the front down, and her tits bounce freely. chan’s got big tits, round and full, and her nipples are dark and need to be in your mouth now, so you lean down to suck one into your mouth. “o-oh. oh, yeah, that’s it.”

you’re not shocked to see felix has attached herself to chan’s other nipple. you both lay either side of her, sucking and nibbling at her tits while you squirm and writhe for more, more, more, and you know chan will give you what you need. a quick slide of your hand beneath her briefs only confirms what you were suspecting - she’s drenched, folds slick with her wetness, and her clit peeks out with arousal.

“poor daddy,” you croon, finger sliding up to circle her clit, slick from her hole. she lets out a stuttery breath, and you can only look up at her from your position on her chest. chan looks so beautiful like this. her nose juts out sharply, lips pouty and kiss bitten, and her lashes are long where they rest against her cheekbones, eyes shut. “did we make you wait long?”

“ah- baby, you know i like watchin’ you both,” chan responds, voice shaky. felix only suckles on her nipple happily, sated to just wait to touch for now. you manage to wrangle chan’s underwear from her legs in the position you’re in, and one look at the trimmed patch of hair on her mound has you wiggling your way down, sharpish. chan leans up on her forearms to look at you, the prettiest, fondest smile taking over her features. “oh. oh, you’re daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?”

“always,” you respond, quick as a bat, because you genuinely are - most of the time. lix is the brattier one of you two, always biting and grabbing and being generally impatient, but even she seems to be on her best behaviour this morning, coming to join you between chan’s legs. chan lets her toned thighs fall apart, unashamed for you both despite the shame she definitely feels inside, and her folds part wetly.

you can’t help yourself. you’re sliding one digit into her hole almost instantly, and she seizes, head rolling back onto the pillow. she’s wet, extremely so, and her arousal slides messily down to your knuckle.

“i want in,” felix says, breathless. “you’re so messy here, daddy. mm, lemme-“

she dives in. she’s relentless with it like she was with you, tongue batting over chan’s clit while you fuck her with one finger. chan gasps, her pussy gushing, and grips the back of felix’s head in approval.

“ah. yeah, there we go, fuckin’- eat daddy’s pussy. y-you too, c’mon,” she grunts, yanking at your hair where your head rests on her thigh. when your tongue joins lix’s it’s even messier, both of your lips smacking against eachothers and the little button you’re working on. it makes chan whine this broken, strangled noise that has you sliding another finger inside of her.

chan reaches down, pulling her mound back, and the exposure of her clit fully to your mouths makes you and felix both moan. you know it’s more sensitive like this, and you switch to directly laving your tongue over the bud. your fingers crook inside of her, and you feel a shorter, smaller finger slide in next to you. felix’s tongue licks over your lips affectionately, swirling around the other side of chan’s clit that she can get to, and chan moans so loud you think the walls shake.

“i’m gonna cum, keep going, keep going,” chan mumbles, and when you look up at her her eyes are half lidded, rolling back into her head. she's leaning up on her forearms again, attempting to watch you, and you curl your fingers again to watch her gasp. her pussy is wet, and felix noses at your cheek until you turn to her. “fuck, kiss for me. kiss for me, babies, please.”

her own fingers come down to her clit and rub in fast little circles, and felix pushes her tongue into your mouth while you both finger fuck the eldest member of your lovely trio. it seems to be enough for chan. when you and felix switch to sloppy, open mouth kisses, the combination of her own fingers on her clit and yours and felix’s inside of her has her spraying her release down your forearms, messy and sloppy on your skin.

the feeling shocks you, and you pull back from them both, blinking rapidly at yours and her skin. it’s soaked, and lix only giggles, leaning down to lick up your forearm.

“ah, that’s- seriously, lix?” chan swats at her playfully, still out of breath. “you’re dirty. both of you. you’re menaces. minxes.”

“is that the plural of minx?” you mumble, gripping felix’s arm to lick her clean, too. chan only sighs, trying to chastise you both despite her sports bra still pulled under her tits. the sight makes you want round two. “mm, tasty. happy anniversary, who’s getting head next?”

chan sighs again. felix shrieks, but points at herself.

[disneyprincemuke]

the best of (instagram) * driverkiddies

(series masterlist) | (📂 smau specials)

driverkiddies

liked by rockysroads, logansargeant and 4,429 others

driverkiddies everyone please say hello to my child, he’s a stray i picked up from the streets of australia that i named kidnapper

view all 487 comments…

logansargeant crazy how i didn’t join you at the club for one night and i woke up with a pet cat

rockysroads please address him by his name ty

user1 pet cat…? this is ur pet?

user2 BLACK CAT LOVER

user3 black cats are good luck… y/n wdc 2023?

oscarpiastri hehe meow.

driverkiddies no ❤️

logansargeant ???

landonorris did you get hacked mate wtf

maxverstappen1 tell ur cat to respect me

driverkiddies also no ❤️

rockysroads u heard the cat

logansargeant i cant even get it to like me

user4 RESPECT TO KIDNAPPER PLEASE

driverkiddies exactly these bitches have NO respect for my baby user4

alex_albon this is the only likeable member in ur household

rockysroads i might have to agree with you on this one

logansargeant saying that when i exist is crazy dawg

alex_albon huh logansargeant

williamsracing aww welcome to the family, kidnapper!!! 💙

rockysroads admin ur my baby’s godparents

logansargeant i literally pay for this cat’s litter wdym kidy/n

rockysroads do yall hear sumn

andrettiracing black cats are good luck!!!

sebastianvettel true

driverkiddies

liked by rockysroads, logansargeant and 7,429 others

driverkiddies “i think he’s starting to like me” - logan sargeant, 2023

view all 2,439 others…

logansargeant he is

rockysroads ur real funny

oscarpiastri did the cat tell you that, logan?

lilyzneimer that cat likes me more than he likes logan

rockysroads real

rockyskiddies rocky is my favourite

rockysroads so true rockyskiddies

logansargeant are u out of ur mind talking to urself in the instagram comments? rockysroads

rockysroads shut ur mouth logansargeant

sebastianvettel when am i seeing kidnapper again

driverkiddies i know ur a dog lover ❤️

rockysroads haha

sebastianvettel ur weird for answering me with two different accounts

rockysroads wdym thats kidnapper typing on the phone

sebastianvettel ?

logansargeant she bought him a pretend phone

rockysroads it’s a real phone

lilymhe aww, they’re getting along well!!! 💙

logansargeant not true, kidnapper took my spot on the couch

alex_albon understandable

driverkiddies u might be my favourite alex

driverkiddies

liked by logansargeant, sebastianvettel and 11,429 others

driverkiddies stubby puppy

view all 4,329 comments…

rockysroads i’m never letting u use this account ever again what kinda dumb ass caption is that

logansargeant u cant appreciate real art and it shows

sebastianvettel sigh

driverkiddies shut up 💙

oscarpiastri valid reaction

daltonsargeant boring caption

rockysroads that’s what i’m saying

blythesworld shouldve kept this ig account to urself sis

daltonsargeant what she said blythesworld

maxverstappen1 do u want another pet

sebastianvettel she does not.

rockysroads hi, u called for me?? what pet? hi?

logansargeant enough please

charles_leclerc what a cute puppy!!!

lilyzneimer is for me???

oscarpiastri girl shut up we’re not getting a dog

lilyzneimer lol haterrrr

nicolepiastri apologise oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri sorry lilyzneimer

oscarpiastri FOR FUCKING NOTHINGYGGGG lilyzneimer

dalt0ns my dog

driverkiddies you babysat stubby ONE TIME does NOT mean he is your pet please get a grip on life

daltonsargeant i’ll get u ur own dog

dalt0ns i knew i always liked u more than logan

logansargeant wow i cant catch a break

driverkiddies

liked by logansargeant, lilyzneimer and 10,492 others

driverkiddies logan had one job and it was to find stubby a Halloween costume and he couldn't even do that

view all 3,148 comments...

logansargeant wow

rockysroads u always make stubby feel like the non-favourite child

rockysroads it's sick

sebastianvettel why is logan ostracising stubby

rockysroads he hates stubby lowkey

logansargeant no i dont wtf i love him very much

lilyzneimer why does kidnapper get a whole outfit and stubby only gets a pumpkin :/

logansargeant I WAS VERY BUSY OKAY

rockysroads because logan plays favourites :/

logansargeant STOP SAYING THAT I WAS JUST BUSY

oscarpiastri justice4stubby

[activesplooger]

After Sex Head-Canons | HAZBIN HOTEL

Includes Vox, Adam, and Lucifer! MDNI.

cw: suggestive! MDNI Masterpost!

͐V͐͐o͐͐x͐:

You’re currently in Vox’s bed, panting as he lays on his back beside you. The room was silent, aside from the heavy breaths emitted from the two of you. The silence is broken suddenly,

“B minus” The TV Demon states flatly

You raised your head to look at him and quirked an eyebrow as you spoke “What?”

He looks at you with an annoyed expression, like what he said was obvious and didn’t need context. “I said B minus, the rating for how good you were.”

What the fuck?! This man did not just openly rate your sex skills… And a B minus?! “Excuse me?” your tone was offended and confused, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and a glare that could kill.

Vox rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow as he looks at you with his bright red and teal eyes. “What’d you expect? An A plus? Pfftt, hah!” He sits up and slides off the bed, grabbing his clothes off the floor and putting them back on.

You huffed, about to defend yourself before he rudely interrupts you “No I-“

“Ridiculous… Haha! An A plus! That’s funny!” He has a good laugh for a solid minute, all the while you’re giving him a “What the fuck” look as you lay on his bed. You drag a hand down your face in disappointment, not at him, but at yourself “Why did I sleep with you…” you mutter under your breath.

The TV demon looks back at you and stops laughing “Oh, you’re still here… You’re dismissed.”

You fight the urge to bash in his stupid TV head, and instead spring up out of bed without a word. ‘What was I expecting… Stupid ass samsung face… If only his dick was as big as his ego…’ you thought to yourself. You put on your clothes as fast as you could and walked out.

——————————————————————-

𝑨𝒅𝒂𝒎:

You cringed to yourself as you laid beside Adam. That’s it? That’s the ‘most awesomest sex’ Adam was bragging about relentlessly until you agreed to have sex with him? What a fuckin’ bummer…

Adam stretched out on the bed and turned to you with a cocky grin “I know right?”. You turn to face him “What?”.

“Best sex ever! I know, it was great, you’re probably never gonna have sex like that again!” He gloated.

‘I hope not…’ you thought. You force a smile on your face and nod “Mhm… That was super…”

His inflection went up as he sung his words in a rock-and-roll falsetto “Because I’m the original dick, bitch!” Adam then went on to play air guitar while making the sounds of a guitar solo which dragged on for a few minutes.

Adam stretches his arms above his head, looking down at you, taking notice your strained grin. He groans and rolls his eyes at you “Ughhh, you want aftercare or something?”

Thats what he thinks you want? You were about to decline and book it out of there before you realized you might as well get something out of this. “Sure.” You responded flatly.

Adams exhales roughly and mumbles “All women are the same I swear… Didn’t even compliment me on my great dick giving ability…”. You pretended not to hear that part. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest.

To your surprise, the aftercare wasn’t too bad. His plump figure was actually really comfortable to lay against… for the first few minutes. Eventually he must’ve gotten bored and started boasting about how great he was. Once he started talking about how many girls he’s “graced with his amazing presence”, you got up and left.

———————————————————————

Lucifer:

Before you could even catch your breath, Lucifer pulls you into a tight and loving embrace. He nuzzles into your chest and smiles against your skin. The feel of the soft silk sheets and Lucifer cuddled against you was exactly what you needed after a passionate and wild love making. It was clear Lucifer hadn’t been intimate in a while with his hungry, wild, desperate movements with you in bed. Though he hadn’t had a partner a looong time, he definitely wasn’t off his game.

You were pleasantly surprised at the action, running your hands through his blonde hair, eliciting a pleasant hum from him.

“I take it you enjoyed that?” You say as you press a kiss to his forehead.

Lucifer looks up from your chest and beams “Very much so!”. You two spent the rest of the morning cuddling, only eventually getting out so he could make you some pancakes. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Masterpost!

[cameronsprincess]

rafe x jealous!reader inspired by lana del rey „jealous girl“ (unreleased song sadly)🎀

„if i can’t have you baby, no one else in this world can.“

where he broke up with her because of her obsessive & jealous behavior a few weeks ago. (let’s pretend he’s not a killer haha) she sees him with another girl at a kook party & explodes with emotions. she beats up the girl & punches rafe & screams her lungs out that he belongs to her and no one else & that no one can have him if she can’t. topper and kelce literally have to drag her away from the poor beat up girl.

which literally leads to her breaking into tannyhill & threaten him with a gun. i’m thinking about no happy end because she ends up killing him and herself. but that’s up to you. or you can just erase the no happy end!

hope it’s not too gory, if it is it’s okay! maybe you could recommend someone who writes this kind of „gore“😩

BRO I LOVE THIS!!!! OMFG!!!!! she is me fr, bc who tf does Rafe think he is ???? leaving me??? NAH bby.

CW: violence, strong language, jealous!reader, toxic!reader, alcohol consumption, mention of a gun, breaking and entering, toxic relationship, mentions of blood. i think that’s it?

I didn’t understand why he’d left me. I mean, sure, I could be unpredictable and a little overly jealous. But he was mine. Any woman in my position would be the same way, right?

Maybe I took it too far sometimes. Maybe that was my problem. No, fuck that. If you’re not obsessed with the man or woman you’re with, then what’s the point, right? I was obsessed with him. I still am. So seeing him here with her has my blood boiling.

“Don’t do it.” My best friend, Kayla, says firmly.

I narrow my eyes on her, biting at the rim of my solo cup. “Don’t do what?” I ask, feigning innocence.

Kayla sighs, tossing back the rest of her drink before setting the cup onto the countertop. I place my eyes back on Rafe. He stands at the other side of the room, his right arm draped around the bitches shoulder as he laughs at whatever bullshit Topper was saying. He’s not that fucking funny.

I feel Kayla’s hand on my shoulder before she’s spinning me around to face her. Her amber eyes are narrowed in on my face. “I see the way you’re looking over there. Whatever you’re thinking of doing, squash it. It’s not fucking worth it, Y/N.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. It is fucking worth it. Rafe Cameron is mine, and it’s about time I remind him of that.

“Kayla, haven’t you ever loved someone so much, that you become overly obsessed with them? That you would do whatever the fuck it took to prove that they belonged to you? Because that’s what I feel for Rafe. I’m never going to win him back with her in the way.”

She sighs for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “Look, I get it. But you’re not going to win him back by doing something stupid. If you go over there, you might as well kiss him goodbye forever.”

She’s right. But I’ll never tell her that. Instead, I down the rest of my drink, tossing the cup into the trash bag that sits behind me and say, “I don’t give a fuck. She’s touching what’s mine. And that’s just unacceptable.”

I yank myself from her grip, turning and making my way toward Rafe and Jade.

Rafe’s eyes go wide when he sees me approaching, and I can’t help the smile that spreads on my lips.

“Hi baby, you miss me?” I ask him, batting my lashes while smiling widely.

“What’re you doing, Y/N? We’re not together anymore.”

I frown. “Baby, come on. You know you didn’t mean that shit. So why the fuck are you saying stupid shit? And why the fuck are you draped all over this bitch?” I ask, pointing toward the bleach blonde that’s tucked underneath his right arm.

A smile forms on Jade’s face, making my blood boil and my hands fist down by my sides.

“Oh Y/N.. You poor thing. Rafe told me you were fucking craz-”

My fist connecting with her nose cuts her words off. She falls to the ground, blood pouring from her nose as she holds it, glaring up at me.

“You bitch!” She shouts, and I just laugh. I jump onto her weak body, throwing punch after punch to her once perfect face. My knuckles are split from her teeth, my voice hoarse from screaming as I continuously hit the poor girl.

I feel two sets of strong arms ripping me up off her, my feet instinctively kick forward, getting her in the face one more good time before I’m physically dragged out of the house.

“Yo! Calm the fuck down, Y/N! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

My body is buzzing, adrenaline pumping through my veins has me seeing fucking stars right now. I look up, my eyes focusing on a mortified Topper and Kelce. I smile at them coldly.

“You guys are no fun” I pout. “I was winning back there ya know?”

Topper scoffs, his eyes wide. “You fucking broke her nose Y/N! You fucked her face up, Rafe’s gonna have to take her to the hospital… What’re you gonna do if one of them turns you into the police?!”

I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in my chest. “Oh please, Top. Rafe would never turn me in. He loves me.”

Kelce throws his hands up, turning and giving me his back before walking into the house to presumably check on Rafe and his bitch.

Topper takes a cautious step toward me, his right hand landing on my shoulder. I glare at his hand for a second before he pulls back, sighing. “Look, he did love you. But you scared him away. You were too jealous and too obsessive. Rafe didn’t like that, so now you have to let him go.”

I laugh at that too. Maybe Topper is funnier than I gave him credit for.

“Top, he will be mine. No one else in this world is good enough for him. I’ll make sure he knows that.”

Before he can say anything else, I turn on my heels and skip down the steps of his front porch, making my way home to get the things I’ll need for later together.

-

Two hours after I’d absolutely beat the shit out of Jade in front of all of my friends, I’m sitting outside of Tannyhill, my right hand holding the small metal weapon i’d gotten from my house, fingertips tracing over the trigger slowly while I hum silently to myself.

Rafe will learn tonight, that if I can’t have him. No one can.

He’ll either be smart and take me back, or I’ll take us both out. The choice is his.

After what felt like forever, his headlights lighting up the driveway have me sitting up straighter in my spot. I watch as he pulls his truck to the side, putting it in park and hopping out. He makes his way to the door, slightly swaying from all the alcohol I assume he consumed after Top and Kelce threw me out.

Fuck them. And fuck Rafe for allowing it. He should stick up for me. He should fucking love me. I do everything for him. I would do anything he asked. And yet, he doesn’t want me? The thought of him with anyone else has my blood fucking boiling.

I watch as he pushes the door open, moving to shut it but I quickly stand and sprint toward the door, stopping it with my hand. He drunkenly staggers backward, turning his head as a confused “what the?” falls from his mouth.

His eyes land on mine, squinting to try and make out who he’s looking at since it’s kinda dark in here.

“Hi, Rafe.”

His eyes go wide and he stumbles backward, throwing his hands up. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He asks, shaking his head from side to side.

A slow smile makes its way onto my lips. I make my way farther into the house, shutting and locking the door behind me. “I came to see you, baby. Why would you ask me that?”

He laughs. “We’re- we’re not together Y/N. You fucking broke Jade’s nose, along with many other bones in her face. You’re fucked in the head. Please, leave.”

I can’t contain the laugh that bubbles in my chest. I take a few slow steps toward him, and he matches them, taking a few steps back.

“Rafe, you’re hurting my feelings. You love me, why are you acting like you don’t?”

His back hits the couch behind him, and he sticks his hands behind him to catch himself. His blue eyes are wide and full of fear.

“Y/N… I- I did love you, but you were too jealous, too fucking obsessive… I couldn’t handle that shit.”

Tears fill my eyes as the words leave his mouth. They stung. But he also just pissed me off. I pull the gun I had tucked in my hoodie pocket out, pointing it toward him as I let the first tear fall.

“How could you say that, Rafe? I love you! I would do fucking anything for you! Why can’t you just accept me for who I am?”

Rafe’s eyes go wider—if that’s even possible— and he raises his hands higher. “Y/N… We can talk about this. Put the gun away baby.”

I let out a laugh that makes me sound borderline insane, and maybe I am. But love makes you do crazy things right? I love him, and if I can’t have him, no one can…

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” I scream, my hands shaking as I continue pointing the gun at his beautiful face.

“I-I’m not lying. Please, princess. Put the gun away so we can talk…”

I take another slow step toward him, standing almost directly in front of him now. His intoxicating scent floods my senses, making me feel almost dizzy.

I clear my throat, blinking away the fresh tears as my shaky hands stay pointing in his direction. “I would have done anything for you. I love you, and you just cast me aside because what? Because I cared too much? Because I was so in love with you it made me fucking crazy?” I pause, letting out a choked laugh as I watch the fear in his eyes slowly turn into sadness. He fucking felt bad? Good. “I love you, Rafe. I’m just here to let you know… If I can’t have you, no one can.”

His blue eyes well up with tears, and he quickly blinks them away. Lowering his hands to his sides, he takes a cautious step toward me, the barrel of the gun pressed into his chest. He reaches out his right hand, running his thumb across my cheek and wiping away a tear that had fallen.

“Sweetheart… Put the gun away, and let’s talk, yeah?”

I sniff, my eyes finding his piercing blue ones. I slowly nod my head, lowering the gun in front of me, hearing him let out a deep exhale before his hands wrap around the cold metal object. He quickly turns the safety on and tosses the gun behind him and onto the couch.

Tears flow quickly down my face, choked out sobs pulled from my chest as I just stare back at the man who’d broke my heart. If he didn’t choose me, I wasn’t sure how I’d continue living. I needed him. The thought of never feeling him again, never smelling his scent, having his lips on mine, hearing his soothing voice — it was all too much for me to think about.

His arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me flush into his hard body, has all of those negative thoughts flying out the window. He still loves me.

I sob into his chest, apologies falling from my mouth like word vomit as he lovingly rubs his hand up and down the length of my back, shushing me. “Shhh, s’okay baby. ‘M here. I’m sorry.”

He holds me, swaying our bodies back and forth for what feels like forever. The sweet words spilling from his mouth and the feel of his hands on my body again are comforting. Like a warm blanket wrapped around you on a particularly cold day, or like your grandmother having cookies out for you after school.

Rafe was my safe space. He was my home. And I couldn’t lose him. I refused to go on in life without him by my side.

His next words hurt, but gave me a sense of hope that we could make it work after all.

“We can work on us, okay? I’m not going anywhere princess,” He pauses, lifting my head from his chest so my eyes are on him, “But you need to get help. Get medicated or something. You can’t be going off the rails batshit crazy all the time. I’m worried about you, and I need to know you won’t lose your goddamn head anytime you feel threatened by someone.”

My eyes search his, his eyes telling me he means every word he’s saying. I couldn’t be mad. I was a little over the top sometimes. If getting help for my psycho tendencies meant getting to keep Rafe? I’d do it. I’d do anything to keep him.

I swallow thickly, nodding my head, “Okay…”

He places his right hand on the back of my head, pushing it back down onto his chest and pressing his lips onto the top of my head. My body melts into his, my arms tightly hugging at his waist as I silently cry. I suck in a shaky breath, mumbling against his chest, “I love you, Rafe.”

He sighs, rubbing his hands up and down my back softly. “I know, princess. I know.” He pauses, and the hesitation of him telling me he loves me too pulls at my heart. Shattering me. But he finally says the four words that kept me sane, “I love you too.”

rafe cameron masterlist | requests | taglist form

[stylespresleyhearted]

POV: YOU’RE DATING CALLUM TURNER

or the one where i pretend i am Callum’s girlfriend (and also tagging @precious-little-scoundrel on this bc I GOTTA)

liked by yourinstagram and 56204 others

tmznews Callum Turner spotted with a mystery girl! Is the new heartthrob off the market? Link in bio for everything TMZ has on his new gal.

view all comments

user23 the invasion of privacy … yikes

user12 What does it say about me if I read the article because tbh I’m curious

fan12 don’t do it, lets respect their privacy

callumupdates Don’t give TMZ any clicks. Look at the horrible quality of the photos, they obviously weren’t supposed to obtain these. Callum will share when he is ready.

yourfriendsig At least she’s pretty 😍

yourinstagram stopppp haha

liked by rafflaw, anthonyboyle, and others

yourinstagram soft launching my man bc he’s hot and i love him ❣️ (oh yeah and tmz exposed us)

view all comments

fan12 GIRL THIS IS A HARD LAUNCH NOTHING SOFT ABOUT IT!!!!

user41 crrrryingggg omg iconic

user23 lol attention seeker

yourfriendsig It took me three years to be IG official with you, why does he get special treatment 😒

yourusername take a guess 😉

keoghan92 @tmznews you suck

liked by fan12 and 63917 others

deuxmoi Spotted: Callum Turner and his girlfriend at a pub in downtown London. Looks like no more hiding for this couple. Sources tell me they’re in love and don’t care who knows it.

view all comments

fan12 wahhh they’re so cute

user23 i’m so jealous but i also ship it so hard

fan41 my friend saw them making out at a diner last week lmao she said they were eating each other not the food

liked by austinbutler and 36072 others

yourinstagram so proud and moved to tears ♥️ the entire cast and crew did a great job honoring these brave men

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fan12 we love a supportive gf

fan41 what a great picture fr

user23 I met y/n at the event tonight and she was the sweetest, most HILARIOUS person its easy to see why Callum is in love with her ❤️

liked by yourinstagram, rafflaw, and 78912 others

anthonyboyle One Direction

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user97 OMGGG they’re so hot wtf

yourinstagram more like Wrong Direction

keoghan92 you think you’re funny huh

yourinstagram Callum finds me funny 🥲

rafflaw he’s biased he’s in love with u

fan91 cryingg she’s a part of the mota fam 💍🥹

liked by keoghan92 and others

yourinstagram hi movie star ♥️ i love you - your biggest fan

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rafflaw 💍💍💍👀

yourfriendsig @rafflaw LMAO DONT START THE RUMORS

appletv Mr & Mrs Egan spin off?

keoghan92 sappy

yourinstagram @sabrinacarpenter

liked by yourinstagram and 639 others

yourfriendsig good times

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user91 … the hand on her ass … making out … CALLUM TURNER I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE

yourinstagram why would you post this when you know im missing him 🥺

yourinstagram brb omw to ft him

fan23 i love the way y/n loves him she isn’t afraid to be a normal girlfriend

liked by anthonyboyle, keoghan92, austinbutler, and 941633 others

yourinstagram social media making fun of me for this but if he was your man you’d get it 😌 i say that’s my baby and i’m proud ♥️♥️

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fan12 if i didn’t see my bf for a week i’d react the same way people need to mind their business

yourinstagram it was only three days but yes your point still stands 😆

yourfriendsig y/n you’re an icon

fan92 i love them so fucking much pls adopt me

yourinstagram okay! ♥️

liked by austinbutler, rafflaw, and 76043 others

yourinstagram someone tell y/n not to leave her phone unlocked 🤣🤣🥳 - anthony & barry here!

edit: got my phone back. can’t bring myself to delete my boyfriend looks so cute. i guess barry and anthony look okay.

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fan23 LMAO PLS HOW DID THEY STEAL HER PHONE !!!😂😂CALLUM TAKE IT BACK!

yourinstagram he was supposed to hold it for me it didn’t fit in my clutch and he sided w the enemies 🥺

anthonyboyle New profile picture?

yourinstagram i’ll kill you

yourinstagram also i think it’s important for everyone to know @keoghan92 stuck his hand down my boyfriends pants pocket to get my phone

keoghan92 and i liked it

anthonyboyle 😂😂😂

—

The End

Ahhhhhh making this was so much fun!!! Y/N is a bit shameless in her adoration for her man but that’s the point!!! I’d be the same if he was mine (I mean look at Vanessa Kirby and Dua Lipa lmao)

Marina this is for us because this man deserves our love we’d make him so happy 🙌🏼

It was supposed to be silly and funny so don’t give me shit obviously celeb relationships would be a lot more private. And for bonus fun check this out ��️

[pokemon-radical-red]

I got this comment on a post that I made about being a trans man and noticing how we’re perceived by others. This person is blocked now because I don’t want some transphobe on my blog, but I want to talk a little bit about this.

I like how this person’s trying to convince me that I’m wrong while saying that the only people who would be attracted to us are lesbians who are into butch women. But they can’t use those exact words or else we’ll all KNOW that they’re misgendering us. It’s interesting. Let’s play a game! TERF or transandrophobe. (I’m not scrolling through their blog long enough to find out.)

Okay. Let’s pretend that we live in their world, where trans men are not also a porn category (as someone pointed out in a response comment), and get to the deep cuts!

Now maybe this person defines oversexualization in a different way, and frequently commenting on our bodies—especially our chests—is totally cool and normal to them, because I literally have a post talking about the Tik Tok trend of “oh trans man wants me to respect his pronouns but he has HUGE BOOBS!!! haha this is so funny, guys!” You may notice that in this example here, she claims to feel bad, but then immediately turns around and makes a joke about it. Is describing transmascs essentially as our chests not sexualization? Not to mention dehumanizing considering they refer to this person as “a he/they,” instead of a transmasc or a nonbinary person or anything else.

But if that’s not enough sexualization for you, or you think that it isn’t valid to be upset over that, you can look under the cuts for the disgusting descriptions of our bodies from some transphobes. From some of those “ladies who just like butch,” since they’re innocent and aren’t oversexualizing us because “nobody oversexualizes ftm trans folks,” as the person in the screenshot said confidently.

I wanna say trigger warning for disgusting oversexualization of trans men (including trans men who are in their teens!) under the cut, but huh… the commenter said that nobody oversexualizes trans men, so this can’t be right. (On a serious note, please do heed the trigger warning before deciding to open the rest of the post.)

[corseque]

Re: your Twitter poll: I think I’m the only one who thinks that Trespasser line reads oddly if they didn’t have sex.

If they didn’t, that means either 1 of 3 things: Solas is denying something Lavellan herself is asserting, Solas didn’t understand the metaphor or Solas bizarrely brought it up as a non-sequitur.

Meanwhile, if they did have sex, he’s presuming she’s using a play on words to insinuate that he took her for a ride and he’s saying no, I wouldn’t have slept with you if I was pretending the whole time.

I’ve had a few people say this to me, but it makes perfect sense to me so maybe I can try to explain. I’m writing the rest of this post talking only about the interpretation where Solas and Lavellan did not have sex, but as we know, it’s equally valid and canon to think they did have sex. Ok. So.

Solas: “What is the old Dalish curse? “May the Dread Wolf take you?”

Lavellan: “And so he did.” (The Dread Wolf did trick me like the old curse said.)

— Solas: “I did not. I would not lay with you under false pretenses.” (I did not. I would never cross the line and have sex with you under false pretenses.)* —

“But you lied to me. I loved you. Did you really think I wouldn’t have understood?” (It doesn’t matter that you didn’t cross that line. You still lied to me and didn’t trust me when I loved you.)

*yes, this is a disjointed thing to respond with. He’s thinking of the innuendo when she isn’t.

So you said it was one of three things - I think it’s the third thing, Solas bringing it up in a (at first glance) bizarre way.

I think that Reddit post I linked on Twitter made a good point in that Solas seems very thrown in this conversation when Lavellan doesn’t dump him immediately. He’s expecting to be dumped, he isn’t expecting to defend himself. And his defenses seem very wrong-footed, unpolished, honest, and, now that I’m thinking about it, interesting. (I’ll tie it together after looking at the angry branch.)

In the other, equivalent branch, it goes

Lavellan: “Ma harel lasa!” (“You lied to me!”)

— Solas: “Only by omission.” (Lol) —

Lavellan: “Ma lasa banal’ghilana!” (You led me astray!”)

Solas: “What would you have had me say, that I was the great adversary in your people’s mythology?”

Lavellan: “I would have had you trust me!”

The equivalent line there is “Only by omission” which is an equally silly lame duck defense to say. It’s as silly to say “I only half-lied to you!” as it is to say “Well, at least I didn’t have sex with you!”

But I think what these responses both have in common* is that they both would be things he had thought about for years of regret and rumination, so that’s why they were honestly on his mind when he suddenly had to answer for himself. “At least I never lied to her, I only lied by omission.” “At least I didn’t cross that line with her and have sex with her.” “What was I supposed to tell her? ‘By the way, I’m the devil who has haunted your people for ages beyond counting?’”

(it’s funny that all 3 of these things he’s been telling himself just blow away in the wind in an actual conversation with her, haha)

Anyway, “I didn’t cross the line of sex with you” is not a non-sequitor if he had been ruminating about it for years and it was important to him. If it wasn’t important to him*, they would have had sex.

*in this interpretation, of course.

[sorcerersseestars]

LIMERENCE (II)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

part i here

summary: Gojo is uncharacteristically insecure and unsure to the point of double guessing himself—something practically unheard of for the self-proclaimed Honored One. Meanwhile, the ever-feared blood-laden flowers make an unwelcome appearance.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: mentions of sickness and blood, descriptions of vomiting (caution to fellow ppl with emetophobia), characters are anxious and stressed!, cussing (obvs), use of (Y/N), kidnapping!

genre: hanahaki disease au, hurt/comfort, DRAMA

a/n: Here is part 2 (finally lol)! It is a whole 6.7k words (😫) to make up for not updating until now haha. This chapter features serious!Gojo and worried!Gojo 😳. It seems out of character but it’s intentional (or so I claim). Also, I kinda make a pun out of Utahime’s name—hime (姫) means princess in Japanese! Two last notes: for clarification—I use italics to emphasize things, but also for characters’ thoughts. Geto is still alive (still excommunicated tho) in this timeline. More notes at the end of the chapter!

“Hey, ‘Hime, when’s your lunch break today?”

He hears a scoff that hardly conceals the crackly laugh that follows through his speakers. Her laugh is delicate and bright, even over the phone.

“Don’t call me that, Gojo. Never been into the princess thing.”

“We’ve been over this, it’s Satoru. And what should I call you then? Hime is perfect, it’s literally in your name.”

“I’ll call you Satoru if you call me by my real name: Utahime.”

“You’re so boringgg! Come on!” He whines, pretending to pout.

Utahime breathes in sharply at his words, “Satoru…you shouldn’t say things like that.”

Gojo stops walking. His brow creases in confusion: this is how he has always behaved, with obviously facetious and playful words. Even the people that claim they can’t stand him the most, like Shoko and Nanami, recognize when his words are intentionally over the top or ridiculous. Utahime also knows this: he has not concealed this aspect of his personality from her.

He can’t stop his next words from being spoken with a twinge of annoyance. “I was kidding, you know. Is something wrong?”

Utahime sighs, “No, no. Sorry, I’m just a bit stressed since the higher-ups asked for a meeting with me. Have no idea what it’s about…”

“They did? So, you’re not free for lunch? Please say you are…”

His words feel unnatural and stilted, but he brushes the feeling aside. He’s probably just nervous since it’s her, right?

“Yeah, I’m going to my meeting in a few, but I should be able to make it. Could you get the reservation for us?” Utahime asks, tone leaning on snippy.

“Mm, maybe. What’s the magic word?” He teases with a playful tone, trying to lighten her mood. This should work, it should make her feel better. He has experience with this.

“C’mon Gojo, not now,” She groans, apparently disgruntled. “But, fine, could you please make the reservation?”

He frowns. Not exactly the reaction he anticipated.

“Okay, but next time you gotta call me Satoru,” He says with a small awkward chuckle, this time easing up a bit on his teasing tone. “I’ll let you off the hook this time, though.”

“Sure,” She snorts, but not in the way that she would if she thought it was funny. It’s a sardonic snort, rather, and he would bet money that her eyes are rolling.

A loud click signals the end of conversation, but his phone remains pressed to his ear. He lowers it slowly, a strange feeling swirling in his chest. It’s an uneasy, heavy feeling from deep down, but he can’t discern what exactly it means.

“Why would I expect that to work?” He mutters to himself. “That’s so annoying, who would tolerate that?”

Suddenly, an image flashes under his eyelids, almost making him flinch at how intensely it conjures itself. A vivid apparition of you doubled over in laughter appears in his mind. It’s a memory, he realizes: you’re leaning on him as tears part from your eyes, unable to catch your breath due to how hard you’re laughing at one of his horrible, stupid jokes.

He remembers this moment well. You had been crying for real before—quietly sniffling, trying to hide it from him. He knew that you hated crying in front of others—trying to always appear strong, he knew this feeling well—so he started direct attention away from it with the corniest jokes he could make. That’s when your tears, first full of the hurt that he could clearly see in your crumpled expression, turned into ones of relief and joy. Your eyes had sparkled with some other emotion he couldn’t identify—something familiar, something that made him feel warm in the chest, but also made him feel so, so scared.

He never did figure out what it was. Or, rather, he has tried not to dwell on it. Every time it pops into his head, he pushes it down, the fear rising in him each time he comes closer to the answer.

Utahime never made him feel like that. That must be better. He never feels scared like that when he thinks of his feelings for her. That must be better, it has to be.

He enjoys talking to Utahime. He likes that he can get under her skin with little effort, likes how easily he can get a rise out of her: and most of the time, she’s amused by it, giggling and slapping his arm. He’s never scared with Utahime, but…why does something feel wrong?

His fingers, typing in his name for the reservation, pause and begin to tremble when he sees what he typed. He typed your name. His eyes widen beneath his blindfold—he’s grateful it helps to conceal his expression, even if nobody he knows is around. In truth, this is partly why he seldom removes it; he masks his true emotions more often than not. Not that anyone suspects it, though, too convinced by his saccharine smiles and forever jocular personality.

The blue horizontal line blinks in and out of existence as his fingers hover over his keyboard. Your name, though written in normal text, appears bolded to him: it sucks his attention away from anything else on his screen. He begins to break out in a sweat.

Sweating just from their name? How pathetic…

He shakes his head, frantically backspacing, trying to erase all traces of you from his mind. He’s been trying to do this for months, ever since he began to distance himself from you. There is a legitimate reason he has been giving you the cold shoulder, but it feels like an excuse to drive away this fear that grips him when he thinks of that warmth, that sparkle in your eyes.

Fuck. Now he can’t get that image of you out of his mind—his chest aches, his breathing comes quicker, but he does not know why.

He walks almost endlessly in the town he booked the restaurant in, in a pace-like fashion. His large stature and height make the brisk pace he walks at look absurdly hurried to passerbys: they stare at him unabashedly and he barely notices.

It’s only when he checks his phone that he realizes how much time has passed since he called Utahime. His reservation is soon: he will be late if he doesn’t start walking there now. Shit.

His breath comes heavy when he finally reaches the restaurant. It’s a casual yet nice ramen place—something familiar yet suitable for a lunch date. He’s wearing a baby blue button down shirt, nice slacks, and trades in his blindfold for heavily shaded sunglasses: also suitable for a lunch date.

A date. Yes, that’s what he’s on. A nice lunch date with a girl whom he kissed before the first date. A bit untraditional, not that he would be one to mind.

He approaches the hostess, about to ask for a table for two, but then he spots a familiar red ribbon perfectly adorning the dark strands of hair she always pulls back. She’s already here, sitting alone in the corner.

Gojo sighs. Fuck, ‘messed up again.

He hurriedly stumbles over to Utahime, probably looking a bit disheveled. She gives him a questioning glance at his appearance—Gojo laughs and immediately plasters on an easy smile.

“Hey,” He says nonchalantly, slowly lowering himself into the chair opposite her.

“Hey. You’re late,” She notes, but she doesn’t sound as bothered as he thought she would. “Did something happen? You look…like something happened.”

He goes along with it, sighing dramatically, “How’d you know? Yeah, Yaga was bothering me about some mission stuff. Dumb paperwork I’m supposed to do and whatever.”

She smiles, but it’s tight lipped, “Of course. But that doesn’t explain why you’re all sweaty.”

“I am?” He questions, feigning confusion, but his next words are partly true. “Ah, well, I realized I was gonna be late since he was pestering me so much. Guess I walked too fast.”

“Hmm,” Is all she says. She stirs the tea in front of her with a small spoon, expression blank as she does so.

Once he realizes she isn’t going to initiate talking further, he takes it upon himself, “How did the meeting go?”

She stops stirring. She sets down the spoon more harshly than she means to: it clangs loudly on the tea tray.

“I have some questions,” She says seriously.

“Questions? About what?” He asks.

Her dark, stormy eyes meet his. “…About you.”

He gulps, “Sure! What type of questions? You know, people ask me a lot of stuff. I’m sure I can handle anything.”

He winks at her, his usual smirk spreading across his face. Maybe if he jokes he can diffuse this god-awful tension. Not that it worked before, but he can try.

Utahime blinks slowly, exhaling deeply, as if attempting to calm herself down. He can see the fire in her eyes between blinks.

“How about that the higher-ups were asking me about my relation to you, when they believed you to only show interest in someone else?”

No. They can’t still believe that.

Terror strikes Gojo’s heart, electrifying his nerves, but he tries to play it off. He breathes out a chuckle and a few weak words, “That wasn’t a question.”

“For once in your life, be serious! We’ve only been dating for 3 weeks and I–” She inhales deeply. “I don’t think it’s a good sign that you’re intentionally avoiding answering me about this.”

“I’m not, I just don’t know what you’re talking about. Who did they even ask about? I can’t think of anyone they could say that about.” He’s lying through his teeth. Alarm bells are ringing through his head, and he dreads her answer.

She narrows her eyes, but seems convinced enough at his alleged cluelessness.

“They were asking about (Y/N). Asking about…your relationship with them. About how close you are. Asking if it’s changed.”

Gojo takes a sip from his glass, avoiding her eyes.“Well, did they say why? Seems awfully strange to ask you about it.”

She’s silent for a few seconds, mulling over her next words. They end up making Gojo bristle. “Satoru, you know I couldn’t tell you even if they did.”

His tone is abruptly serious. “The hell does that mean?”

She blinks at him slowly, with anger flashing in her dark eyes. “Gakuganji is very involved with them. If I told you, it would definitely get back to him. Who knows how he would punish me.”

"So you'd rather possibly endanger (Y/N)?" Gojo scoffs.

“Who said anything about danger?” Utahime says lowly, suspicion clear in her voice.

“Well, when the higher ups ask questions about my life, it usually isn’t just for fun,” Gojo says with a shrewd smile. “I don’t know what the hell they’re thinking so I can only assume the worst.”

“Does this really matter right now? (Y/N) is capable enough if it does turn out like that, and besides, I sorted it all out. Told them that your ‘relationship’ is fine and dandy and yada yada.”

Gojo sucks in a breath, nerves beginning to turn in his stomach. No. No! That’s not what I wanted…

Utahime doesn’t seem to notice his discomfort and continues, “You two have always been close…didn’t you have a thing for each other in high school? They have always had these eyes for you.”

Her tone is strange, gushing and gossipy yet also jealous.

“What?” Gojo says more loudly than intended as he takes in all of the information Utahime just casually dropped.

“You know, I even told them that you two were meant to be together,” She chuckles. “Funny how things work out—or, rather, don’t work out.”

Gojo’s stomach twists painfully at her insinuation—even though it shouldn’t. He likes Utahime, he’s with Utahime. Not with you. He’s not with you, he has never been with you.

“Gojo,” Utahime says suddenly. He blinks rapidly in surprise, eyes finally landing on hers. “Can we agree to be honest with each other?”

“Of course. What do you mean?” He says easily, nervously.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” She shakes her head. “You’re deflecting at every question I ask. You’re not as slick as you think you are.”

Gojo lets himself sigh this time.

He studies her expression. She’s beautiful, he has to admit. She’s beautiful, but she’s not you.

“Utahime…what is this all about?” He asks slowly.

“I should be asking you that,” She counters. “Why did you ask me out if you won’t actively participate in our relationship?”

“What do you mean? I’m here, aren’t I?” Gojo responds carefully.

“But you mind isn’t,” Utahime sighs. “You’re miles away, Satoru. You always are. When you’re with me, you’re not thinking of me, are you?”

The question is so accurate that it seems rhetorical to Gojo, to the point of him not responding for many moments before he realizes she is genuinely asking him.

It’s so true and yet he physically cannot bring himself to admit to it. “I mean, I think about the higher-ups and work related stuff a lot. I’m sorry I haven’t been that present on dates and stuff, but–”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it, Gojo!” Utahime hisses out, tone bordering on venomous. “You’re always thinking about them. You make decisions thinking of them. I bet even when you kiss me, you think about them. Are you going to deny that?”

“Utahime…” He says softly, guilt constricting his vocal chords.

“I don’t understand you, Gojo. You asked me out and have taken me on fancy dates as if you want a committed relationship, but then your mind is always wandering away. I know that you still care for them, but then I heard from Shoko that you’ve been ignoring them for months. And then the fucking higher-ups ask me your relationship with them. Why would they ask me that and why would they even care? Something isn’t adding up. What’s really going on here?”

Gojo blinks in surprise at the depth of concern in her voice. It’s like she has already moved on from her jealousy towards you, and now is worried for you.

He must look surprised, because she adds on, “Just so you know, I’m not that sad. You’re kind of a shithead for doing this to me, but this wasn’t that serious for me. Obviously not for you, either.”

Gojo winces. Everything she has said so far has been true, but he wishes it wasn’t.

“Iori, I’m sorry. For everything. I didn’t even realize that…that I was doing that,” Gojo sighs. “And to answer your question—I didn’t want to tell anyone, but I think I owe it to you. I don’t know what’s going on either, and that’s what scares me. I have no idea what they want or what they’re plotting, but it can’t be anything good.”

Utahime sits there with a small smirk on her face. When he raises an eyebrow at her expression, she just chuckles and shakes her head. “You can’t even say their name. Just how much denial are you in?”

He can’t even answer. He just sits there, a hand brushing his cheeks in order the cover the warmth the rises at the mention of the depth of his denial concerning his feelings for you.

When she realizes he isn’t going to answer, Utahime rises out of her seat. “Well, I guess I can say I’m officially breaking up with you, not that you or I really care. Just…if you need help with this, just know I’m in your corner, yeah? Unless it’s something to do with Gakuganji, and in that case my hands would be tied. Otherwise, just ask. You know, I wasn’t joking when I said I rooted for you guys in high school. That’s a fact and I can’t deny it.

You should really figure this out—for their sake. It sounds like they’re not having the best time with it. And besides, as much as it pains me to say it, you owe it to yourself after fighting against whatever feelings you have had for them for so many years.”

He doesn’t interrupt her even once, instead quietly absorbing her advice. He fidgets at the mention of his feelings for you, still uncomfortable even at the thought of them. Still scared.

“Goodbye for now, Satoru. I hope you figure all this shit out. Have a nice lunch,” She says coldly as she readies her things. Her coldness stings a bit, but what else could he expect?

“Oh, one last thing,” Utahime pauses. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me this, but I guess you’re too in over to head right now to think straight. I think I might know partly why they have taken an interest in (Y/N).”

Gojo’s gaze turns to her sharply, blue eyes bright with curiosity behind his shades. “Why? How do you know?”

“I think the higher-ups must have asked Yaga about them. I forgot until now, but they were asking me if I knew anything about (Y/N)‘s identity. And who would know better than anyone? Your nosey principal who digs deep on everyone,” She rolls her eyes, huffing out a small but humorless laugh. “Well, that should be it then. Bye, ex-boyfriend.”

She gives him one last look, then struts away with her head held high. He sincerely hopes she isn’t hurting too much, despite her very “okay with it” façade.

So it has to do with your identity? In Satoru’s view, you have somewhat of an average identity for a sorcerer. A grade one sorcerer who comes from a sorcerer family. You had not inherited your clan’s special innate technique, but you are still pretty strong regardless. There’s nothing unusual about your background, or at least to the best of his knowledge.

And yet this sickening feeling has begun to creep into his stomach, that feeling that something is horribly wrong. What he does not know is what he cannot control, and each heartbeat and breath of his feels tortured with the knowledge that you may not be safe.

Shoko won’t stop texting you, almost on the hour, despite your radio silence. It’s strange when you think about it—she has always hated texting, always grumbling that it’s going to give her carpal tunnel someday. And yet here she is, blowing up your phone with notifications.

You haven’t been to school in weeks, taking mission after mission instead. It’s very obvious that you’ve been avoiding Shoko and Gojo, but you won’t admit that.

The missions have been grueling and gruesome—your stomach turns when the curses you exorcised spring to mind. They were ghastly and frankly were some of the most mentally scarring curses you’ve encountered. So, you’ve decided to take a break.

You feel your skin crawl when you’re sitting at home doing nothing—the curses come to mind much more easily, and also thoughts of him—so you abandon being cozy for the sake of your mind. It’s cold outside, so cold that your breath greets you in a cloud with every puff of air you release. Winter has arrived, and it nips at your cheeks and numbs your extremities just to remind you.

You haven’t been coping well, and you know it. Avoiding thoughts of Gojo has not been working very well, even after physically avoiding him. You try to forget what you heard that day, but it won’t escape your mind no matter how much you distract yourself. You think of Utahime: her beauty, her quiet strength, of how she always seems so calm and collected and yet somehow always makes her voice heard. She has everything that you lack.

The skin of your face burns with envy when you think about her. And when you picture her with Gojo—her dark eyes looking into his pooling blue depths, her leaning forward and up to kiss him—your chest crumbles in on itself.

It hurts. Right now, everything surrounding Gojo Satoru hurts.

But today, you will change that. This will definitely help. You’ve taken yourself out of your apartment and straight into a place that has always lifted your spirits—the local florist.

You scour the aisles, wincing at the very romantic red roses and the bright yellow daffodils. But then something catches your eye: an array of festive bouquets.

You end up picking out a bouquet fit for the season: it features a string of cranberries, enveloped by branches of pine and pinecones, with a striped garland draped around it all. Despite all of your poisonous feelings inside, you crack a small smile at the sight.

You take it home, putting care into the beautiful and yet flowerless bouquet. You carefully mix the plant food into a vase full of cool water, cut the ends of the stems under running water, then submerge the bouquet.

It brings a sense of homeliness that you’ve been desperately missing ever since you’ve starting living on your own. It almost soothes the ache in your chest.

But, as always, reality swoops in to remind you that you cannot run from your feelings within. Within only minutes of arranging the new bouquet, you accidentally swipe at the vase. It crashes to the floor, the glass shattering everywhere, glinting beautifully as it spins through the air. The cranberries begin to bleed into the water, the impact too much for them to tolerate.

You bend down, slowly processing the collision. When you stare into the expanding pool of water, you see wild eyes brimming with pain. Brimming with heartache. It is then that you are painfully reminded what cranberries represent: a cure for heartache.

The irony is not lost on you. You begin to howl in laughter, and the voice that reverberates back to you sounds crazed.

Then, it begins. You abruptly stop breathing; you are choked, silenced, almost as if something is blocking your airway. And then your throat begins to convulse, an instinctual reaction to choking, and you have no choice but to obey your body. You stumble through the shards of glass and collapse at the foot of your toilet. You heave and heave—whatever is lodged in your throat is large, making it difficult and painful to retch up.

When you finally use enough force to hack up the offending object, you freeze at the sight in front of you. Vibrant hydrangeas the same color as his eyes float in a murky red cloud. Blue hydrangeas: a symbol of rejection and regret.

Your chest bursts in pain at the realization. You are in love with Gojo Satoru, and he doesn’t love you back.

You feel another bloom emerging from within. You shudder in fear, knowing that you have little time left. Once the flowers present themselves, death is almost always imminent.

You spend the next few hours by the toilet, conjuring a newer, more painful bouquet than the one that lays in shattered remains in your living room.

“You told them what?” Gojo exhales deeply, a sigh following his exasperated words. He pinches the bridge of his nose—a gesture uncharacteristic for someone as self-assured as him.

“That (Y/N) is important to you,” Yaga Masamichi states calmly. “Satoru, there is no reason to fret. Their intentions concerning this matter are pure.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now? The higher-ups intentions are anything but pure.”

“I can sense that you are agitated,” He observes, eyebrows beginning to furrow. “But you are blinded by your bias. They first and foremost protect our community. (Y/N) is of no threat to Jujutsu society, thus they should be in no danger.”

“You don’t understand,” Gojo shakes his head. He is clearly angry, but now his nerves are showing through more: his voice is uneven and his tone has an air of desperation. “The higher-ups are out to get them. I don’t have any answers for that, even though I’ve been searching for months. I’ve had to show indifference towards (Y/N) to convince them that there is nothing between us, and it was starting to work. Why did you tell them this without consulting me first?”

A frown etches Masamichi’s stony features. Behind his shaded glasses, his eyes rake over his former student, taking in his state. Gojo isn’t one to openly show fear or anxiety, yet his breathing is audibly shaky and his fingers twitch by his side.

“I see I have made a mistake,” Masamichi concedes. “But why are you so convinced the higher-ups have ill intentions toward them?”

Gojo begins to pace back and forth in front of Yaga’s desk—also very unlike him.

“They called me to meet them a few months ago, asking what my relationship with (Y/N) is. I brushed it off at first and basically told them to stop sticking their nose into my business, but then I started to notice something.”

Gojo pauses by a window. The light streams down onto his face, illuminating his rather uncommonly stoic portrait.

“They started assigning (Y/N) missions that were labeled as second or first grade, but actually turned out to be special grade. And it can’t be coincidental—the incident rate of this happening is much higher for (Y/N)’s assignments than any other person.”

“That does seem to be true,” Masamichi comments, thinking back to reports he’s reviewed.

“No, not seem,” Gojo snaps. “That is the reality of this situation. Ever since I realized that, I’ve acted coldly towards (Y/N), distancing myself as much as possible. And guess what? No more special grade missions. Less injuries. And—”

“Satoru!” Masamichi raises his voice, pulling Gojo out of his frantic spiel. He blinks in surprise; he didn’t even realize how much or how fast he has been speaking.

“I don’t know what they are thinking or planning, but stressing like this will not help the situation. This is our world; this is how they operate,” Masamichi says, leaning forward and resting his chin on steepled fingers. “We will find a way around this.”

“It shouldn’t be like this,” Gojo says, voice rumbling deep and low, dangerously quiet.

“They are resistant to change,” Masamichi counters. “We can’t directly influence their decisions.”

“Not if they can’t make them anymore,” Satoru snorts, a dark and bitter smirk curling his lips.

“That is completely out of the question,” Yaga says firmly in a warning tone.

“Their thinking is antiquated,” Gojo argues. “I think we need a complete refresh.”

“And yours is too radical and rash. No, Gojo. I will not even entertain your idea.” Yaga says with a note of finality.

“Won’t you let me have my fun?” Gojo sighs, exaggerating his disappointment. “You’re such a drag, old man.”

Yaga almost smiles. He’s back to his normal antics.

“So, there is nothing that you can think of that would cause the higher-ups to go after them like this? I know you looked into all of your students closely even before you became principal. You must know something.”

Yaga frowns. You were his student and, as Gojo claims, he did thoroughly look into your background. But—how can you truly be thorough when the information presented is so little?

“There was little to nothing on them,” Yaga says. “Even when I tried digging further, I didn’t find much. However…there are rumors that they have made a Binding Vow.”

“A Binding Vow?” Gojo echoes back. “That’s very vague. That can mean practically anything.”

“But it’s still interesting, is it not?” Yaga says with a wry smile. “If the higher-ups have heard, we can only assume that the Binding Vow is with another entity, not with themselves. Otherwise, why would they be interested? That is assuming this is true, of course.”

“Who did you hear this from?” Gojo asks. “Someone credible?”

“I’m not sure about their credibility. And you can’t really go out and interrogate them, even if you wanted to. If you did, there would be another expectation for your visit.”

Gojo grows suspicious from his obvious attempt at a non-answer, “Yaga, who?”

He sighs, “Geto Suguru.”

There’s silence. Then, Gojo cackles—it’s a bitter and sardonic laugh, slightly crazed as well—and shakes his head.

“Of course. Of course it was from him,” Gojo continues laughing, a hand covering his face this time. “Guess you’re right—there’s no avenue for conversation there. In that case, I’ve gotta go. See ya, old man.”

Yaga bristles at the nickname, but does not attempt chastise Gojo as he walks away without waiting for Yaga’s response. It simply doesn’t work, so why waste his breath?

Gojo walks out, digging his cell phone out of his pocket. He opens his text conversation with you, fingers twitching over the keyboard. But what would he even say? The last texts are all from you, scattered over a few weeks from literal months ago. He didn’t respond to any of them. He feels the need to contact you, but how would he even start that? ‘Hey, I know I’ve been ignoring you for months, but I heard that you might have told Geto that you made a Binding Vow and I think the higher-ups know about it.’

Nope. That’s not gonna work. He swipes the texting app out of existence, then locks his phone and puts it back in his pocket.

He leans back on the pillar, resting his head while he closes his eyes. Why does everything surrounding you have to be so complicated? Then, a series of hurried footsteps meets his ears, and he doesn’t need to open his eyes to know who it is. Gojo is ambushed by someone he hasn’t seen for a few days—your mutual friend, Shoko.

“I heard what happened from Utahime,” She says immediately.

Gojo exhales loudly, not even trying to conceal his annoyance, “Shoko, I really don’t have time for this right now.”

“No. Tell me what’s going on.” She says firmly, her tone hard.

“What? We broke up. What’s more to say?” Gojo says dismissively.

“No, Gojo. That’s not all there is. Things have been going on. She told me that she’s concerned for (Y/N) but wouldn’t tell me more. And it just so happens that I have been texting them just about every day for weeks and have heard nothing back. Tell me there’s ‘nothing more to say’ again! Because obviously something is going on.”

Gojo inhales sharply, his breath suspended at her words. He shifts his weight forward, finally leaning away from the pillar. Shoko takes notice of his surprise.

She sighs, deciding to clarify one detail, “They’ve still been taking missions so I assume that they’re fine…but they’ve never ghosted me like this. Even back then, when Geto…they didn’t…agh. Well, you know what I’m saying. I don’t know what they’re thinking.”

He only really gathered one thing from that. So you’re safe for now. Gojo recovers, his expression evening out into something more normal.

“Shoko, I don’t want to complicate things further,” Gojo sighs. “Too many people are already involved in this, ones I had no intention of involving. I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I should say anything.”

“You ass!” She shouts at him, making his eyes widen under his blindfold. Shoko never blows up like this—she’s always indifferent and sort of passive. “They’re my friend too, and I want to know what’s going on!”

“I don’t know what’s going on!” Gojo blurts out. Shoko blinks rapidly, shocked by the volume of his voice. He hates getting emotional like this, but he can’t help it when he’s so fucking worried. “I don’t know, Shoko. The higher-ups have been probing into my life, but this time– this time it’s about them, and I don’t know why they want to know. I don’t know what they’re looking for. I’m just praying every day that they stop, but then somebody else in our circle tells me that the higher-ups keep mentioning them. I don’t know what’s going on, but it can’t be good.”

She looks at him, finally noticing how…un-Gojo-like he looks and sounds. Worrying about others isn’t something that Gojo does, or at least not something he ever speaks about. He never has his brow creased like he does right now. He doesn’t bite his lip in worry, either, so why is he biting down so hard he’s almost pulling blood?

“Okay,” Shoko yields. “Okay. I believe you. I didn’t realize…I didn’t believe that you still cared so much.”

“You don’t even know,” He mutters under his breath, but Shoko still hears it. She acts like she doesn’t.

“Well, if you hear anything, tell me, okay?” Shoko asks him with a low exhale. “They’re really stressing me out.”

She pulls out a lighter and a cigarette, prepared to light up. The blinks, and the cigarette now lays on the ground, mysteriously absent from her grip.

“Fuck you,” She grumbles. “You know, that’s littering.”

She hates to say it, but her chest, heavy with worry, lightens a bit as his regular smirk spreads across his face. She feels a bit more hopeful as Gojo disappears in front of her, the wind from the teleportation blowing her hair and lab coat around furiously.

“If only you two weren’t idiots, this mess might have solved itself ages ago,” She chuckles to herself. “The densest people I know.”

Your lungs ache. You wheeze with each breath. You blink blearily, rubbing your eyes with one hand. You’ve been drifting in and out of sleep while you’ve been laying on the cold tile in your bathroom. The air is tinged with iron—the smell of your own blood curdles your stomach.

“What time is it?” You mutter to yourself, and jolt at the sound of your own voice. It’s raspy and weak; you almost don’t recognize it as being your own.

Your hands skate across the smooth tile as you try to locate your phone. When you finally do, you grab it and bring it close to your face. Your eyes, barely cracked open, ache at the bright light of your screen.

The time reads as 3:31 AM. You’ve really been here for that long? Under the time, a plethora of texts from Shoko appear. You groan and slam your phone back down on the ground, ignoring the guilt that rises from how long you’ve been flat out ignoring your friend.

I’m being just like Gojo. Your lips curl down at the realization.

You feel a wave of weakness wash over you, and you are forced to lay back down on the ground. You are half conscious, vision swimming half through dream and half through reality. You can barely think, barely process your own actions.

You feel cold metal in your hands, smooth glass under your fingers. You are tapping randomly, the light blinding you so much that you can’t open your eyes to see what exactly you’re doing.

All you hear is your own horrible breath. And then you hear a voice.

“(Y/N)? You called me?”

You blink blankly in confusion. Did you? You can only assume that you did.

“‘Guess so,” You try to say, but you can barely get it out with how sore your throat is. “Who…who is it?”

“What do you mean? You called me, silly.” They say with a small chuckle. “It’s like 3 am. Are you drunk or something?”

Why can’t you recognize their voice? Their voice sounds underwater to you. Your head is spinning so much and your ears begin to ring. Your feel yourself slipping from reality.

You hear yourself saying words, but you don’t remember thinking them.

“No…gonna pass out. Or die. Can’t tell.”

“What? (Y/N), what’s going on? Tell me where you are, I’ll come get you right now.”

You swear you know that voice. It’s deep and smooth, but filled with so much worry that you barely recognize it. He’s never sounded this scared before.

“Oh, you’re…you’re Satoru,” You wheeze out. “Why? Why you?”

You’re not making much sense, you don’t think. But you can’t, not with how far from reality you are right now.

You called him? It’s just too painful, too cruel a fate, that you accidentally called the man you’re in love with and who doesn’t love you back while you’re knocking on death’s door. You cough violently and choke on the bloody petals that rise to your throat. You wince in pain and struggle to breathe.

He is bordering on panic now, but he fights to keep it out of his voice. “It’s okay, (Y/N), just tell me where you are. You’re on a mission, r-right? I’ll come get you. Just hold on.”

Confusion floods your brain. A mission? Are you on a mission? Is that why the scent of blood is clogging your nose?

Your heart beat pounds in your head, faster and faster. It’s scary just how confused you are—how do you not know where you are?

“I don’t know,” You choke out. You didn’t even realize you were crying. “I don’t know where I am.”

“It’s okay, c-can you check your phone for me? It’ll tell you your location. Just open it and–” His breathing is fast. “And check in your maps. Please. Please (Y/N), I need you to do this for me. Then–then everything will be okay. Okay?”

“Okay,” You answer softly. “How do–”

You startle at the sound of a loud bang, your own gasp cutting off your words.

The door to your bathroom—that’s where you are—is knocked down, nearly missing your form where you lay on the tile.

Satoru is calling your name desperately, his voice louder with each repetition of your name. You can’t decipher any other words, but you know he’s shouting things, trying to get you to say something, to say anything so that he knows you’re okay.

A dark shape towers over you. You can’t make out who it is with your blurry vision and with how dark it is—but you are immediately intimidated by their large, broad frame.

“There you are,” They snarl. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this to happen. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

You scramble to get up, grabbing your phone while you unsteadily rise on your shaky legs. You are an inch away from passing out and you fight the feeling with every ounce of your strength.

“Not looking too good, are we?” He says, tutting mockingly. “That’s perfect. Remember what we agreed on, my dear (Y/N)?”

You stare at him blankly, no recognition in your eyes.

“Silly me! Of course you don’t remember. That was intentional, you know. A good move on my part,” He chuckles, and it’s a soft sound that juxtaposes his words. “While you’re the one who has to suffer. Don’t blame me too much, though…this is all situational. It’s not like I ever disliked you or anything. It just has to be like this.”

You hear Satoru’s voice again, and this time it sounds dangerous, “Who the fuck is that?”

Anger runs through the man’s features, and he strikes the hand that carries your phone harshly. You yelp loudly both in surprise and in pain. Your phone clatters to the ground, instantly silenced. Probably broken beyond repair.

His words are chastising and almost playful, but he is furious. “You shouldn’t talk to him anymore, (Y/N). That’s not part of our agreement.”

Then he grabs hold of you and begins dragging you out of the room. You scream loudly, kicking and punching him as much as you can as you’re moved against your will. You are a strong sorcerer, but all of your cursed energy and strength has been sapped away by this horrible disease that afflicts you. You are powerless to stop this man.

There’s one thing you were mistaken about. With the crunch your phone made as it shattered against the ground, you assumed it was completely broken. That’s only partly true: the speakers were damaged, no sound coming out, but your phone actually survived. Your microphone continued to pick up every scream and cry you made as you were dragged against your will—kidnapped. He heard every whimper of pain and every plea of yours for the man to stop! and to let you go!

Even in this state, your heart would ache if you had heard the unadulterated fear that gripped his voice as he shouted and screamed for you through his phone.

Even if you didn’t recognize the man who manhandled you out of your apartment, Gojo Satoru has no doubts about who it was. It makes his blood boil thinking about it—he’s never going to forgive him for this, even if they used to be best friends.

next part

a/n 2: Thank you so much for reading, it means a lot!! This got a bit out of my hands, I will admit…I ended up writing some details I hadn’t planned on (and a lot more lol) 😅 But I think it actually makes it more interesting!

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@soapysofi @qualitygiantshoepsychic

Some of these tags didn’t work, but I hope it still tags you…Lmk if I typed anything in wrong haha. 😌

[cupidcures]

When Tulips Kiss | Hwang Hyunjin SMAU

CHAPTERS: 𝜗𝜚 TWENTY-SEVEN | TWENTY-EIGHT | 𝜗𝜚 TWENTY-NINE

WORD COUNT: 4.3k (not proofread)

CONTAINS: talks about sex (they don’t actually have sex haha.. this is my sfw blog not my nsfw blog), profanity, a little violence

nothing has changed

“Ayen I’m nervous as fuck dude,” Hyunjin whispered nervously and wiped his sweaty palm on his jeans.

Ew.

“You’ll be fine! Just be yourself, you’ve got this.” Ayen encouraged from the other side of the phone, “Don’t worry, or else you’ll be tense and awkward, you’ll do great. I gotta go now, I’m still on live. Good luck dude!” And with that, Hyunjin’s phone beeped a few times before turning off, leaving him to just sigh and shove it into his pocket.

Exiting the vehicle, he sits on the hood of his car and waits for you to come out from the building, and soon enough, you do.

There you were, stepping outside in all your glory. You were stunning, he would be a fool to ever deny you of that fact.

“Hey, you look beautiful.” Hyunjin greeted you and hopped off the hood, approaching your figure with a small smile plastered on his face.

“Thank you, Hyunjin.” You smiled back at the boy as he walked you to your side of the car, not letting you lift a single finger and doing everything for you.

“I was thinking of bringing you to one of my favorite bakeries, it belongs to my friend, too.” He mentioned and got into his seat, turning the engine of the car on and reversing to pull out of the parking spot.

“Really? Which friend is it?” You questioned in curiosity. “Do I know them?”

“Yeah, you do. It’s Felix! He runs a bakery-library fusion with his sister and they’re both insanely talented. I wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up making chains so there’s more than one location to their bakery.” Hyunjin praised them and leaned back in his seat, one hand placed on the steering wheel and the other rested on the middle armrest.

“Thanks for agreeing to hang out with me today, by the way. It was last minute too.” He laughed tensely, but all you did was shake your head.

“Oh, it’s nothing! I’d take any chance I get to leave my dorm, to be honest. I try my best to not be as much of a homebody as I was before. I’d like to think that I’m improving!” You grinned proudly and thought back to the days when you would reject every outing to go out because you didn’t want to leave the comfort of your own home. You shuddered.

No wonder why you were so prone to gloominess back then.

“Yeah, you are. I’m proud. You used to hate going out on consecutive days and now you do it almost every day.”

“I was so boring back then.”

“Don’t say that, you were perfect. You still are.” Hyunjin coughed and cleared his throat awkwardly as you blushed at his statement.

If somebody asked you three weeks ago if you would ever see yourself hanging out one-on-one with Hyunjin ever again, you would have laughed it off and pretended to throw up, but here you were. Reminiscing with someone who made your heart crumble into pieces back in high school. How funny.

You don’t do anything to stop your friendship from growing, though. You’ve come to accept that it was going to happen sooner or later. You just wish that you knew what was going on in his mind when the two of you broke up, but it doesn’t seem like that’s going to be something you know about any time soon, so you forced yourself to push those thoughts away and just focus on building new memories rather than focusing on the past.

Forgive and forget, right? You didn’t even know what to forgive him for.

“Hyunjin.”

“Yeah?”

“Why did we break up?”

Silence.

You looked over your shoulder to look at him, but all there was, was a distant expression on his face. He chewed on his lip before exhaling quietly.

“You know why we broke up.”

“No, I want to know what YOU think is the reason why we broke up.” You corrected yourself to clarify it for him, as he stole a glance from you for a moment before his eyes glued back onto the road.

“Okay. I’ll tell you in the bakery, just not while we’re still on the road, okay?” He spoke quietly and you nodded.

Your heartbeat picked up its pace, blood rushing all throughout your body. You felt hot. Nervous. You were finally about to figure out Hyunjin’s side of the story after years of being oblivious to it.

Maybe, just maybe, things could go back to the way they were.

Hyunjin hadn’t expected to have given into you so easily. Yet, he did. He made up his mind at that moment and told himself he was going to tell you everything today.

He has spent the last few weeks mentally preparing himself for this conversation, and he expected to have everything he thought happened in the past, disproved by you.

He was ready to swallow his pride and apologize for misunderstanding everything, and he was even ready to ask for another chance. Beg you, if he had to.

“Have you dated anyone else since we broke up?” Hyunjin questioned in curiosity as you stopped to think about it.

“Mmm… I have. It was never an official relationship though.” You decided to mention it just so it wouldn’t cause any problems if it were brought up in the future. “How about you? Have you dated anybody? And no, hooking up doesn’t count.”

Hyunjin chuckled at what you said before then shook his head. “Nah, I haven’t dated anyone. It was only flings and hook-ups. You know, the usual fuckboy shit.” He shrugged indifferently.

“You fucking sex addict!”

“Hey, you enjoyed it when we were together though.”

“Ew shut up.”

“Yes ma’am!”

The two of you bickered jokingly before bursting out into laughter. The atmosphere inside the car was light and the tension that once took its place between you two had faded away. You had almost forgotten how fun it was to be around Hyunjin, so you were glad that you were able to experience this side of him again.

No facades.

“And here we are! Tadaa! Young Books Bakery!” Hyunjin spoke in a sing-songy tone, parking his car right in front of his friend’s business.

“Young Books Bakery?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the wordplay, “How clever.”

“Thanks, I helped him with it.” He grinned at you and turned his key to turn the car off before taking it out.

“Of course you did, it’s so corny.”

“Hey! That’s not very nice.” Hyunjin pouted and got out of the car to help you on the other side.

Opening your car for you, he teases, “Hurry up shortie,” and you raise an eyebrow at him in response, stepping out of the car while he closes it behind you.

“Oh so now we’re lying?” You crossed your arms at him and stuck your tongue out.

“I’m not lying. You’re short to me.” He smirked at you and poked your cheek before dragging you along to enter Felix’s bakery.

As soon as Hyunjin opened the door for you, the sweet aroma of all the baked goods filled your nostrils and you could feel your mouth watering in response.

“Holy shit! It smells like heaven in here!” You exclaimed giddily as you walked in like a kid in a candy store, Hyunjin following close behind with fond eyes.

“Y/N!! Hyunjin!! Hey guys welcome in!” A deep voice spoke from behind one of the bookshelves as he peeked his head out, revealing himself with a toothy smile.

“Felix hi!!! This place looks amazing!” You clapped as you admired your surroundings and the decor around the room.

The place was warm and cozy, furnished with soft sofas, bean bags, hammock chairs, and a lot of pillows. A LOT.

Bookshelves covered the walls from the floor to the ceiling and there was always a splash of color, no matter where you looked. The cashier counter was located in the very back of the place, with a few of the baked goods on display for everybody to see. There was soft and quiet music playing in the background, but it was so subtle that you were barely able to notice it. The place was lively, and honestly, you could see yourself coming here much more often.

“Thank you! You can go ahead and look around, just let me know when you want to order anything from the bakery! Or you could just chill here too, I don’t mind!” Felix encouraged you to explore the place more before going back to organizing the bookshelf he was working on.

“Go ahead, I’ll come back to you but I gotta talk to Felix real quick, okay? It won’t take long, I promise.” Hyunjin patted your head before ushering you off and walking towards Felix.

“Hey, bro.”

“Hey, Hyunjinnnnie~ Taking Y/N out on a date I see? We’re so proud!” Felix smirked and nudged his side, gaining a groan from the taller boy.

“My fucking palms are sweating bro. I told her I was going to tell her my side of the story in here.” Hyunjin whispered as the other boy chuckled.

“You ARE gonna go through with it, aren’t you? You can’t just say you’re gonna do something and NOT do it, y’know?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m doing it. I just hope she won’t judge me for being insecure in the past. I’ve obviously thought about it a lot in the past four years, and I never actually saw her cheat. I just… assumed. I was scared and threatened by the guy she was talking to. I’ve never seen her so close with another guy that it broke something in me.” Hyunjin sighed and ruffled his hair back as Felix shook his head.

“She wouldn’t. You know she wouldn’t, just trust her AND trust yourself.“

“Thanks Felix, I knew I could talk to you. Now wish me luck.”

Walking away from him, he made his way to you, who was indulged in a book that you picked out. You decided to sit on one of the beanbags, and your entire body was sunken into the cushion.

Hyunjin admired how you looked so comfortable and cute, even if you were practically doing nothing.

“Hey I’m back, did you wanna eat anything? I’ll pay.” He offered and took a seat on the beanbag next to yours, the soft cushion molding to his figure.

“I’m not really hungry right now, but thank you for asking anyway!” You declined the offer but put the book down on the coffee table in front of you to face towards him.

“Soooo?”

“So what?”

“Your side of the story, silly. You can start wherever you’d like, I’m all ears!” You flashed him a smile and he returned one to you nervously.

This was REALLY happening.

“Well okay. I was hoping you’d forget about it.” He playfully teased and you giggled, rolling your eyes.

Urging him to continue with your hand movements, he opens his mouth to finally get the burden off of his chest, only to be interrupted by the chimes above the entrance door.

Hyunjin’s eyes break contact with yours as his pupils travel to the person to just entered, his back straightening and his face morphing into one of discomfort.

“Hyunjin?” You tapped his shoulder in concern as he managed to stutter out, “I uh.. Sorry for getting distracted..” He mumbles and presses his lips together, forming a thin line.

His actions made you confused. Who walked in to get him so tense? You turned around to see who it was, and to your surprise, it was Beomgyu who walked in with another guy beside him. He looks familiar.

They weren’t looking in your direction yet as they hadn’t noticed that you were there, so you turned back around and placed your hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder, offering a reassuring smile.

Successfully grabbing his attention, he looks back down to your face and smiles as best as he can, even if it is strained. His eyes flicker back up, and unfortunately for him, he makes eye contact with the pair that had just walked in.

Fuck.

“No way. Is that THE Hwang Hyunjin from high school?” A voice, tinted with disdain, broke the tension in the air, but at the same time, it felt as if the tension was at an all-time high right now. You didn’t recognize the voice immediately, but you felt it in your gut that you knew him, or at least had met him before.

You decided it was best to keep your identity hidden and not turn back around to look at them.

Hyunjin’s hand took its place on your waist as his grip tightened protectively. Eyes narrowing at the guy, Hyunjin ignored him and put his attention back onto you.

“Anyway, as I was saying.” His eyes rolled so far he could swear he was almost able to see the back of his head.

“Yo, it’s rude to ignore people y’know? Oh wait, I totally forgot you don’t care about whether you’re rude or not.” The unknown boy remarked as you heard footsteps approaching close behind you.

“Y/N?” It was Beomgyu that spoke just now, and not his friend. You had nothing against him and you didn’t want to be disrespectful, so you hesitantly looked behind you to greet him.

“Hey Gyu..!” You laughed awkwardly as the boy next to him gasped.

“Y/N! It’s been a while! Remember me?” The tone his friend chose to talk to you with was drastically different compared to the tone he chose to talk to Hyunjin with, and it confused you a bit. Your eyes landed on the familiar boy’s face as you studied his features a little longer before your eyes widened.

“Heeseung?”

“So you do remember me! It’s nice to see you again.“ Heeseung smiled at you and you smiled back, anger bubbling in Hyunjin’s stomach at the exchange.

Why did you smile at him?

“One question though, what the fuck are you doing with this jackass again? You’re better than that.” Heeseung pointed at Hyunjin who scoffed at his remark.

“Oh, I’m the jackass?” He stood up from beside you, “That’s real funny coming from you.”

“And you’re still not making any sense years later. What the fuck are you on dude? I did nothing to you and yet you did the most to me.” Heeseung snarled and pushed him back threateningly.

You and Beomgyu looked at each other in concern. While Beomgyu hated Hyunjin, he didn’t think it was worth getting into a fight with him. Violence was always a last resort to him, and that was something you both had in common.

“Heeseung we should go, let’s not cause a scene. It was good to see you Y/N.” Beomgyu grabbed his friend’s arm to pull him back as you stood up with Hyunjin and tugged his arm as well.

“Let’s sit back down, yeah? Ignore it.” You attempted to calm him down, but it was easy to tell—even from a mile away—that he was still pissed.

“Y/N, you should leave with us too. This guy is crazy.” Heeseung laughed as Beomgyu elbowed his ribs to get him to stop.

“Stop it, man.”

“What? I’m telling the truth. The motherf-“

Before he even got to finish his sentence, a strong blow to the face put him on the floor, rubbing his jaw.

Hyunjin rolled up his sleeves and approached Heeseung as you panicked and tried to hold him back, only to be shoved back down onto the beanbag.

“Fuck is wrong with you? First, you beat the living shit outta me in high school with no explanation and leave Y/N heartbroken. Now that I’m trying to protect her from getting her heart broken again, you wanna punch me?! You’re fucking mental.” Heeseung spat out and glared.

Beomgyu was quick to go to your side and check if you were okay, and thankfully you were. It wasn’t a hard shove that Hyunjin gave you. In fact, it was really gentle, and you just happened to lose your balance and fall. But it still made Hyunjin look bad.

Heeseung’s words lingered in your mind.

Hyunjin beat him up in high school?? I thought they were friends?

You decided to shrug it off for right now and focused on getting him to leave Heeseung alone. That was a topic to talk about on another day.

“Hyunjin stop, let’s just go.” You spoke up, wanting to de-escalate the situation as much as possible, but it came to no avail.

“Listen to Y/N, it’s the least you can do for not doing it years back. Asshole.” Heeseung mocked as another hit landed on his face. And another, and another.

Beomgyu pulled you back from Hyunjin to prevent any hits from accidentally landing on you, the two of you wincing with each punch thrown at Heeseung.

You couldn’t watch this anymore and you grabbed your phone to call Felix, and he immediately picks the call up.

“Hey Y/N—“ “Please come! Hyunjin is beating the fuck out of Heeseung!” “..What? Shit, okay I’m coming.”

The call ended and you were able to hear rapid footsteps coming from the back as Felix quickly rushed to the scene from the storage room, pulling Hyunjin off harshly and throwing him on the ground.

“Bro what the fuck??” Felix furrowed his eyebrows talking to his friend, looking back and forth from him to Heeseung. Hyunjin stayed quiet but his eyes fixated on you.

You made eye contact with him and frowned, shaking your head in disappointment.

Ouch.

Felix watched Hyunjin watch you to check if Heeseung was okay before sighing.

Felix knew of what he thought Heeseung did, so he couldn’t be fully mad at him for beating up. That, and because they’re best friends. Beating him up to this extent, though? It was uncalled for. He didn’t blame you for checking up on him instead of Hyunjin, but he was well aware of what this would make Hyunjin think, and it wasn’t any good.

So much for progress…

“Are you fucking serious Y/N? You’re worried about this fucker rather than me? I was right all along. You’re still the same two-faced bitch from before.” Hyunjin cursed at you, pushing back his tears, and you looked back with a mix of confusion and hurt on your face.

“Are YOU serious, Hyunjin? I don’t know what you’re on, but do I need to remind you that YOU beat Heeseung up?? He’s fucking bleeding and I’m sure as hell confident he’s gonna be bruised! Of course I’m worried about him when he didn’t even hit you ONCE!” You were baffled and hurt by his outburst, so you looked away and tended to Heeseung’s wounds instead, not wanting to even look at him.

“I always knew you two had something going on. All you did was prove me right.” Hyunjin muttered quietly under his breath. He got up and dusted himself off, heading towards the exit whilst ignoring Felix’s pleas to stay and explain everything to you instead of leaving.

“Find your own way back home. You clearly don’t need any explanation. You can forget about us being friends, too. You haven’t changed at all.” And with that, Hyunjin left.

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you blinked them away so it made it look like you were unbothered.

“I’ll get the first aid kit from the back.” Felix rubbed your back before standing up to fetch some ointment and bandages.

“What were you doing with him?” Heeseung questioned as you dabbed his bleeding lip with his shirt.

“He was going to explain his side of the story of what happened in high school since we were on good terms again. I’m sorry, I don’t know why he did this. I didn’t even know he did it before.” You sighed sadly as he shook his head.

“It’s not your fault, he’s an ass. He just started hating me for no damn reason.” Heeseung laughed a little and sat up straight, fixing his posture.

“You look really pretty today. Say, after we clean him up, let’s all hang out! Let’s invite Ayen too! It’d be a waste to go back home after wearing a stunning outfit.” Beomgyu tried to brighten the mood, and it worked out as you giggled and Heeseung nodded.

“I didn’t know you knew Heeseung, how come you never mentioned it? He was the other person in the trio that me and Ayen are in.” He asked you with curious eyes.

“Ah, we weren’t that close! We talked like maybe once or twice outside of class, and that’s pretty much it. Excluding a partner project we had to do together.” You explained as Beomgyu hummed in acknowledgment.

“I’m back with the kit!”

“Thank you, Lix!”

“No problem Y/Nnie! Sorry about Hyunjin, I’ll make sure to talk to him.”

“Thanks, Felix. Okay, I’ll add you to the group chat and you text Ayen that we’ll pick him up.” Beomgyu took out his phone to add you to the group, and you took yours out as well.

~

“He WHAT?!” Jeongin spat his drink out in the car.

The four of you were driving somewhere without a destination in mind, and you had just finished telling Jeongin everything that went down, making sure not to miss any important details.

“Watch the seats! But yeah, your friend is insane dude. Tell him to watch it and stop getting into fights.” Beomgyu sighed as Jeongin facepalmed, Hyunjin’s fucking everything up. He thought to himself.

“Yeah, not only did he beat me up, I heard him call our sweet Y/N the word that rhymes with pitch,” Heeseung added on, and you couldn’t help but laugh at him avoiding saying bitch out of respect.

“What the fuck??? Man, I don’t know what’s up with him. No wonder why he was in a bad mood when he got home.”

“Yeah well, It’s whatever. What matters now is that we have fun together!” You changed the topic and cheered, as the three other boys in the car joined you in the cheering.

~

The loud knocking came from the other side of Hyunjin’s bedroom door, and he couldn’t help but hope it was you coming back for him, but he knew that wasn’t the usual way you would knock. So he kept his head buried in his pillow.

“Come in.”

He heard the door creak open and close, the person sitting down on his desk next to the bed.

“Care to explain what the fuck happened?” Jeongin had a hint of irritation in his voice, and Hyunjin was able to detect it. Sighing, he rolls over to lie on his back and stares up at the ceiling.

“She chose Heeseung over me. Like before.” His voice cracked as he sniffled, nose red.

Jeongin stared at the boy’s face, noticing his red and puffy eyes.

“You’re so stupid. You beat Heeseung up and he didn’t fight back. Didn’t even attempt to. Of course she would check up on him instead of you.” Jeongin scolded and folded his arms over his chest. “Is he the guy you think she cheated on you with?”

“I don’t think she cheated, I KNOW she cheated.”

“Shut up, no you don’t. You don’t know she cheated because she DIDN’T, stop fucking accusing her of it when you don’t know her side of the story.” Jeongin defended you in a heartbeat, gradually getting more and more annoyed.

“You don’t know my side either!” Hyunjin exclaimed and glared at the boy next to him.

“I don’t need to, I’m smart enough to put two and two together, and you couldn’t be any more wrong.” Jeongin’s volume increased the more he talked. “You hurt two of my closest friends in one day. One physically and one emotionally. I was willing to help you figure all this shit out because you’re also one of my close friends, but I fucking refuse to let you hurt them, not for the third time. You’ve already hurt them in the past, and you’ve done it again today in the same way you did it before. The same two people that have done NOTHING to you. All because you can’t communicate your thoughts and feelings, people are getting hurt. And so are you, Hyunjin.” Jeongin was yelling at this point, and he was sure he caught the attention of everybody else under the same roof, or maybe even the neighbors.

“Don’t ever call my best friend a two-faced bitch ever again, I mean it. You’re out here telling Y/N that she hasn’t changed, but have you ever stopped to look in the fucking mirror? Or, I don’t know, step back and see that maybe, JUST MAYBE, she hasn’t changed because she hasn’t done anything wrong in the first place? Don’t expect me to help you with the shit you have going on anymore. You really fucked it up this time.” Jeongin got up from the desk and opened Hyunjin’s bedroom door, only to find Felix, Changbin, Minho, and Chan all listening in.

They all, except Felix, looked at him with a questioning look, one that asked ‘What the hell happened?’ But Jeongin did nothing but shrug it off.

“Ask the crying piece of shit over there. I’m staying over at Han’s place for a while. If you need me, I’ll be there.”

a/n: this one’s a little short guys I APOLOGIZE. also, yes i know ayen, gyu, and heeseung are 01 liners but i changed their ages to be 03 liners instead to match the storyline better😋

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TAGLIST (OPEN)! @jeonginplsholdmyhand @jeonginsgirl @mlrroh @mafiulaputaama @seungzsmin @hannie-bees @skz1lov @porang-poranglinos @sillyhal @mitchii @soulphoenix1618 @gnab-nahc @hyunjins-dimples @nappynapnaps @15092000volcano @livixcore @linocvp1d @yaorzu-blog @scallywag1299 @boo-ven9eance @lys4lix @kirbrary @4ln-stay8 @sellomaybe @aznstoner @saintcosette @starseungs @syedazarintasnim @elqivxstxr @ivydoesit23 @weirdowithaphone @hyuneee3 @nhyunn @velvetmoonlght @amarecerasus @skzstan12345 @ravengxbss @sweetbokji

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,593 Pairing: Negan Smith x Reader Reader pronouns: not really specified, but Negan calls you "doll" and "darlin'" often Warnings: language (the usual), some flirty!Negan Era: Alexandria, post-Negan Summary: Negan and the reader must weather the storm and the horde overnight and find someway to get back to Alexandria. A/N: Sorry this came later than I hoped to get it out. This is why I try to 1.) never write two series at once and 2.) never make a posting schedule because I usually can't adhere to it haha some parts just take longer to get right... so thanks for your patience and HAPPY WICKED WEDNESDAY! Previous part - Part 3

The storm overhead was still raging. Tucked away in the basement mostly underground you heard it only as a dull roar. The wind occasionally whistled and howled lending a haunting soundtrack to your sheltering.

Negan had dug out a couple sleeping bags and used one to cushion his seat on another box of supplies, his back leaned up against the wall and his long legs kicked out toward you.

“Can I have that?” you asked, gesturing to the other bag. You were sitting on the floor and the concrete was cold. He tossed it over to you and you folded it and placed it underneath yourself, sitting down in more comfort. You sighed and leaned back against the wall behind you, shutting your eyes for a moment. You could feel Negan looking at you.

“You’re really not going to tell me anything about you?” You cracked one eye open and looked at him, drawing a laugh from deep in his chest. It was resonant and warm, like the sound from a rosewood guitar. “We’ve been doing this for—I don’t know, three months now and I don’t know a damn thing besides your name,” Negan said, twirling the fireplace poker in his hand.

You sighed and sat up again. “What do you want to know?”

“What’d you do before all this?”

“Before the outbreak?”

“Yeah. Before everything went to shit.”

“Uhh… actually, I was a stripper.”

Negan froze, a shit-eating grin growing on his face. “Really?”

“No!” you laughed. “But it seems like you were hoping for something juicy like that,” you said with a self-satisfied smirk. “God, it’s so easy it’s not even fun!”

He laughed heartily. “Alright, smartass… But can you blame me? Shit, I was about to ask for a private performance.”

“I’m sure you were,” you retorted.

“I noticed that you still didn’t answer the question,” Negan said.

“Oh, that’s funny,” you said with a smile. It crinkled the corners of your eyes and Negan found himself suddenly gulping, nervous. He was nervous? “You know, it’s not like I really know a ton about you either.”

“Well, you know about my Savior days. That’s more than I know about you.”

“Is it?” you asked, one of your eyebrows arching.

Negan felt as if a continent shifted inside him when you looked at him like that; inquiring and graceful and steady. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged. “I think—and this is just my opinion, but I think that was a mask,” you said. “It’s almost as if you were playacting. But maybe you convinced yourself that it was the real you or maybe it was in some ways, for a time, and so everyone else around you believed it. It was convincing to watch.”

Negan gulped. He had that same sensation again, as if you were seeing into his core, his true center. “Jesus, doll, maybe fucking warn me before you say some shit like that again.” But there was no trace of jest or sarcasm in his voice and his expression was sincere as he stared back at you. His hazel eyes looked like there was a glow in them that was shifting like the heat moving over the coals of a fire. Was it turmoil? He drew in a deep breath. “Well, what’s the difference, if I was pretending or not? I still did what I did.”

“It matters,” you replied softly. “First of all, because it’s painful to not be seen, to not have your true self perceived, to be invisible in a way. And—when you’ve been hiding in any kind of shadow for a long time, like behind a mask, it’s all the more painful to—to seek out the light, to feel. To be awake. It’s easier to just—pretend.”

Negan’s brow furrowed heavily as you spoke and his hands were still on the iron rod, fingers curled around the chill of the metal. “You’re talking as if you know something about that,” he replied.

You smiled at him vaguely, sighing a little and leaning your head back against the wall again. “Maybe I’m just observant.”

“Alright,” he nodded. His tongue swept out over his bottom lip. “Well, you know about Savior Negan, whether it was a mask or not… and you know that I was a high school gym teacher and coach, and I still know absolutely fuck-all about you,” he said.

“Correct,” you replied.

Negan sighed, looking disappointed. He stared around the room aimlessly for a moment, clicking his tongue thoughtfully and spinning the iron rod in his hand. “What’s your favorite color?” he asked suddenly.

You laughed. “So, you’re switching to small talk now?”

He shrugged. “What the hell else are we gonna do?”

It seemed harmless enough. “Green,” you said.

“Green,” he nodded. “Hmm. Favorite food?”

You shot him an amused look. “Is this even entertaining?”

He only shrugged again and smiled at you expectantly.

“Raspberries,” you said.

“That’s lucky,” he said, scratching at his beard. “You can still get those. In fact, aren’t there a bunch of raspberry plants back home?”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Did you just say back home?” you asked.

“Oh. Shit! Fuck me sideways, doll, I think I did,” he laughed, looking stunned himself. He let out a scoff and shook his head.

“That was… unexpected,” you replied.

“Well, how long do you have to live someplace before you call it home? Even in a cell, I guess time matters.”

“I don’t know. Home has always been a feeling for me, more than a place,” you said.

“Hmm. That seems like it could be telling,” Negan said, absently rubbing a hand over his beard again.

You rolled your eyes. “Now who sounds like a shrink?” you retorted. He laughed a little and shrugged.

“Alright. Green. Raspberries. Got it. Next question…”

“Negan…” you laughed, rubbing a hand over your face, feeling suddenly bashful at his probing and focused interest in you.

“Come on, doll. Just humor me.” He sighed and stretched, thinking. “Favorite season?”

“I can’t choose a favorite. I like different things about all of them.” Then, you paused thoughtfully. “But fuck southern summers.”

Negan smiled widely. “I can agree to that. What was your first car?”

“Pfft… the city bus,” you said. “You’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel here on the questions.”

“I’m—working up to the really interesting ones… But really? You never had a car? Not even a rusty shitbox?”

You shook your head. “Nope. In fact, I didn’t even learn to drive until after the outbreak.”

Negan’s eyebrows lifted and his eyes widened. “Fuckin’ hell. That must have been terrifying. Everything shut down and you were just—”

“—stuck,” you finished. You were staring down at your hands and fiddling with a loose string on the hem of your shirt. “Though, most of the roadways were pretty clogged up quickly so it probably didn’t matter all that much. The only people who got out of the cities anyway were the ones who left as soon as there was a whiff of trouble. And then came the riots and the bombings and—”

A shadow darkened Negan’s face. “Fucking hell. You were in a city city when shit went down.”

You suddenly realized what you’d revealed and looked up at him, your breath caught in your throat at the sudden rush of memories unbidden. You gulped at the tightness in your throat and nodded. “Yeah. I was, um—I was in Atlanta.”

“That’s where you found Rick’s group,” Negan said. It wasn’t really a question.

You nodded. “More like they found me,” you said, ducking your eyes again. It wasn’t lost on Negan that you were avoiding his gaze. He sensed that there was still a wound there, unhealed, deep down. Perhaps it was one that would never truly heal. “But it also wasn’t really Rick’s group then. He’d just met all of them too, like the day before. But Daryl, Rick, T-dog, and—and Glenn,” your voice broke when you said Glenn’s name, but it wasn’t just for him that your voice wavered. “They found me. Helped me.” You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment. “Now, it’s just me, Carol, and Daryl left, out of all of us at the beginning.”

There was a soft frown on Negan’s face, creases in his forehead, when you looked back up, but it wasn’t pity. It was just… sympathy and no small amount of guilt. “I’m—sorry,” he said. His deep voice somehow seemed to cut through the air between you and right to the bone. “I know I had a part in that. And I’m truly sorry.” You were startled to see that his eyes were slightly glassy.

“Yeah, well… you don’t owe that apology to me. You owe it to Maggie and her son far more,” you said, shifting on the sleeping bag you were sitting on. A shiver suddenly wracked through you and you hugged your arms around yourself. The fingers of the cold, damp of the cellar seemed to be slowly finding their way in under your clothing. “I thought you were supposed to only be asking me small talk questions? How’d we get here?” you said with a wry laugh.

But Negan wasn’t really listening. He was digging out the jacket he’d shed earlier and tucked into his pack. “Here,” he said. He tossed it over to you.

You caught it, and then fixed your eyes back on him. “Oh. I’m okay,” you tried to argue.

Negan smiled at you, a small one that had his hazel eyes looking bright. “I just saw you shiver. I already think you’re a badass, doll. A little chill isn’t fucking changing that.”

You sighed, and relented. “Alright…” you murmured, pulling on the jacket. It swallowed up your frame, hanging on your shoulders and bunching around your wrists, and Negan couldn’t quite put a name to the feeling that suddenly manifested in between his lungs.

“Thanks,” you murmured, huddling into the fabric.

“Of course. Seems like we’re gonna be here a while,” Negan said. “Actually—” he pulled the top off a bin beside him and grabbed a camping stove and lighter. “We’ve got a stove, water… MREs. You’ve got those tea leaves we foraged on the way in?”

You quirked an eyebrow up at him. “Yeah?”

“Perfect,” he said. “It’s about dinnertime by now. Sit back and relax!”

You laughed a little skeptically at him. “You’re gonna… cook me dinner?”

“I don’t think heating up some MREs and tea qualifies as cooking. You should see me in a real kitchen. It’s a real panty-dropped,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus…”

He laughed heartily and started setting up the stove. “No, no. You can still call me ‘Negan’,” he quipped, winking at you.

“Okay… don’t ever wink at me again,” you retorted, which only made him laugh harder.

“That is a promise that I am not willing to make. Or keep,” he joked. “Now, hand me some of those raspberry leaves you picked.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

You stretched lazily, your eyes still closed for a moment, before you shot up straight, remembering where you were and the events of the previous day. Your eyes were wide as you realized that at some point over the course of the night, you’d fallen asleep. Part of you expected to see that Negan had somehow gotten ahold of your gun or knife, despite them always being stored securely on your person. But you didn’t have any need to worry. When you looked across the small, dingy space, he was still perched on the same box of supplies he had been the night before, though his long legs were now stretched out and up on another box.

He was smiling at you serenely, the fireplace poker resting across his knees. “Morning, doll.”

You gulped. “I—I fell asleep.”

“You sure did,” he said. You could tell he hadn’t slept at all. His voice was a bit gruff and undeniably tired. He’d kept watch all night. “You snore by the way.”

You hastily smoothed your hair and clothes, staring back at him. “What? I do not!” you argued.

He laughed. “Yeah, you do. But it’s okay. I found it strangely comforting actually. Nearly put me to sleep.”

“Shut up,” you said, standing up and stretching again.

“Don’t flirt,” he retorted, still smiling serenely.

You paced over toward the one narrow window in the basement and looked up at the quality of light filtering through the dirty glass. It was clearly early morning and the storm had passed. More than that, you couldn’t see or hear any of the dead outside. “Seems like the herd moved on.”

“Mhm,” Negan hummed in agreement. “It all got quiet in the early hours of this morning.”

“You stayed awake all night?”

He nodded, standing now too. “Yeah. Somebody else was slacking off after their gourmet meal,” he teased you.

You ground your teeth together, angry at yourself for falling asleep. “You should have woken me up. And ‘gourmet’ seems like a stretch for an expired MRE don’t you think?”

“With locally sourced tea? Come on, people would have paid a pretty fucking penny for that shit in the old world.”

You laughed a little and shook your head, then turned and fixed your eyes on him with a deeply perplexed expression on your face.

“What? That’s quite a look for first thing in the morning,” Negan said. “I can’t have fucked up that bad already!”

“Why—why didn’t you leave?” you said. “As soon as the herd cleared and the storm settled… you could have disappeared, taken some supplies.” The jacket he’d given to you the night before was still hanging on your smaller frame. The sleeves had slipped down over your hands and you hastily pushed them back up. “You know what you’re going back to.”

He just kept smiling back at you, his expression surprisingly soft and genuine, no trace of his usual jest or masking. It was doing something to you, stirring up a whir of fluttering just below your lungs that was impossible to ignore. You gulped, trying to clear the sensation. He paced toward you, stopping within a foot. “Yeah. Maybe that’s why I stayed,” he said.

Your brow only furrowed even more deeply. “You’re a prisoner,” you said plainly.

Negan shrugged. “Am I? I think I’m starting to fucking forget that…” His hazel eyes were flickering over your face, studying your features. You were the one to fell a sudden wave of emotions cresting up within you and you backed away from it.

“We should—see if the coast is clear,” you said softly, ducking your eyes. “Get back to the car. Everyone back home will be worried. They may even have come looking already.”

Negan smiled to himself. He’d felt something in the air profoundly, but he’d also seen how you’d stepped away and the spell was broken. “Okay,” he said simply.

The two of you gathered up your essential gear and headed up the steps cautiously, listening at the barricaded basement door for any noises on the other side. You pounded on the door with your bandaged hand and pressed your ear to the wood. Nothing. Steady silence.

“Okay,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I don’t hear anything. You can hang onto that poker until we know for sure the house is clear, but then you’ll have to leave it behind. Got it?”

Negan agreed, a little hesitantly, but he wasn’t going to argue with you this time.

You unblocked the door, lifting the wooden board you’d secured it with the night before, being careful to avoid the sharp metal brackets this time. The next moment, you slowly pushed it open.

The house was clear and once you’d thoroughly looked out through windows on all sides of the house, he begrudgingly left the iron fireplace poker behind. Stepping outside, the destruction from the storm and the horde were blatantly evident. Most of the windows in the surrounding buildings, including the house you’d sheltered in, were busted or hailed out. There were large branches blown down off trees and the leaves of many were also shredded in the hailstorm and wind. Shingles and scraps of siding and wood were lying in the scraggly patches of grass.

“Good thing we didn’t try to make it out in the car. I’ll be surprised if the windshield is intact when we get back to it,” you said, nudging a shingle with your boot.

“Yeah,” Negan agreed. “What’s the plan? We still have all those supplies to load up.”

“Um… I guess we can try to get the car in here and load them up. That side road didn’t look too bad on the way in.”

The two of you headed that direction immediately, still on guard and wondering where the herd had gone to. Knowing only hours had passed, it was possible they weren’t far at all. But you arrived at the car safely. However, there was another problem.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you swore, staring at the scene in front of you.

Negan stopped beside you and all he could do was laugh wryly. “Well, shit.”

A huge old cottonwood tree had come down in the storm and the trunk had entirely crushed the car. You sighed and dropped your pack down beside you heaving a huge sigh. “Well… Daryl and Michonne will have noticed by now that we aren’t back. Let’s hope they’re already on their way.” The two of you waited by the car, and luckily it wasn’t long before you saw an approaching vehicle down the old highway. The two of you scrambled into cover, just in case it wasn’t who you were hoping for.

But it was. A truck pulled up and you saw Daryl behind the wheel as it stopped behind your smashed vehicle. Aaron, Rosita, and Daryl piled out and quickly ran to check the car. That’s when the two of you stepped out of cover on the side of the road.

“Hey!” you called out to them. “Can’t tell you how happy I am to see you all,” you said, jogging over. Negan walked over more slowly, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “Hell of a storm,” you said, gesturing at the smashed car.

“Goddamn, ‘m so glad to see ya in one piece,” Daryl said, pulling you quickly into a one-armed hug, his crossbow in the other hand. “We were worried sick, but figured it was the storm. Are ya okay?” he asked, shooting a tense look in Negan’s direction. “What happened to your hand?” he asked, noticing the bandage.

“I’m good. Just cut it while scavenging. It’s fine. How’s Alexandria? Everyone okay after the crazy wind and everything?”

“Yeah, all good. Definitely better than yer car,” he said, looking at the crushed vehicle.

“Thank God you weren’t inside,” Rosita said, slinging her rifle over her back.

“No. Instead we were trapped by a horde in a house,” you explained, crossing your arms.

“A horde?” Aaron repeated. “You’re serious?”

You nodded gravely. “Yeah. I was worried you were going to run into them on the highway to be honest. They moved on overnight.”

Negan was standing nearby, looking out of place. Daryl kept shooting him tense glances.

“We found a pile of supplies though, in a hidden survivalist cellar. I bet we can get a vehicle to the house and load them up, especially with your four-wheel drive vehicle.”

“At least something good came out of your trip then!” Aaron said cheerfully, patting your shoulder. “Glad you’re safe.”

You nodded and you all started back towards their truck. Daryl fell into step beside you. “Hey—” he started in an undertone. “Everything really went okay? Even with him?” he asked.

You nodded and felt your cheeks flushing inexplicably. “Yeah.” You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should even tell him this… but you did. “I—I didn’t mean to, but I fell asleep overnight. Negan stayed up on watch the whole time, Daryl. He could have—taken my weapons, overpowered me—the herd and storm were clear. He could have left, disappeared. But he didn’t. He stayed,” you explained in a low voice. “I—I don’t understand it.”

“Hmm,” Daryl hummed, his brow furrowed deeply, shadows cast over his blue eyes. He looked up and caught Negan staring in your direction. “’M glad yer safe, especially considerin’ that. But ya gotta be more careful.”

You sighed. “I know. I’m already angry at myself. I just—I don’t understand why he stayed,” you said, hesitating with your hand on the door handle of the truck.

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “‘M startin’ to have an idea.”

[riacte]

aroallo bi rendog… loves flirting with all of his friends but the instant it starts to feel serious he’s like hahahah that’s funny haha no one wants me i’m so unlucky and bad at romance :/ (he’s avoiding the question and deflecting). goes off smooching cleo and randomly confesses that “ok sometimes i think pretending to be in a relationship is better than actually being in a relationship :D is that what bisexuality means? :D” and cleo is like “ERMMMMM”. ren to martyn: hahaha bro you’re so hot also i can only roleplay being in love with you but irl we’re bros :D my character is totally attracted to yours though. just sadly not me. this is why ren staunchly ignored martyn’s marriage attempts. doc says they’re husbands and ren’s like “cool we skipped a step but it’s… fine? like we didn’t really make a promise. it just Happened. it’s like arranged marriage. lol. i don’t mind.” someone asks “ok seriously what’s up with you and false” and he’s like “:D she’s my good friend!! that i can never bear to be separated from!! my friend!! ^_^” ren running around like “hahha who needs bitches when you’ve got hermitcraft 😏👍” and everyone shares knowing glances and lets him figure it out.