#I’m sure people have said it better before but

[sliced-peaches]

hit it off right

Jeong Jaehyun x reader | 5.8k | friends to…?

After hearing about him for what seems like forever, you finally meet Jungwoo’s hot roommate. But it’s a lot more wholesome than anything else.

📀 now playing: say it - maggie rogers // decent - bas, amaarae // perfect places - lorde // dear to me - electric guest

a/n: seeing Jae getting drunk with YoungJi did something for me. I miss him and it’s really hard being a military wife. this is part of a larger collection coming soon, so nothing spicy. pls enjoy~

mentions of: other nct members, bff! Jungwoo, alcohol consumption, marijuana usage, light flirting, honestly tho everyone is just shy and cute and silly

A few days before the party, you’d asked Jungwoo what kind of wine his roommate liked. Since it was a celebration, you figured you should at least bring a gift.

“He told me to tell you to not bring anything.”

“How could he even know?” You whine, incredulous.

“Because I know you and your habit of balling out on people who are being celebrated.”

There’s not much you can say to that. You are known to bring a nice bottle of something that suits the taste of the one being celebrated. You love to see the joy on someone’s face when they get a tailored gift.

It’s the least you could do for someone when you notice their hard work. It feels good to appreciate someone, especially a friend like Jungwoo. It’s only natural you’d extend the perks to his roommate, right?

“You talk to your roomie about me?” You coo, poking his cheek. Setting his coffee cup down, he nods, seemingly pleased to share this piece of information with you.

“In passing. I told him you were coming, that I invited your coworker, too. I’ve gushed about her to him a few times. He just kinda smiled? Not in a weird way. Like… I don’t know. He just stared at me for a few seconds. Then he said he was happy to hear that. So-“

“Sounds like he’s in full support.”

Jungwoo smiles, bringing the cup back to his lips. Then he gives you a sly look over the rim before he speaks again.

“He also asked me about you.”

“What about me?”

“I guess I talk about you all the time, right? I told him about your art, all the art shows you’re in. I’m sure I’ve shown him a picture of you before, like from that time we went to the beach.”

“You showed your roommate my bikini photos?”

His eyes widen and he starts to immediately apologize when raise your hands to cut him off.

“Wait. Did he like them?”

“He… didn’t say much of anything if I’m being honest.”

“Oh.”

“Which doesn’t really mean anything, honestly. Sometimes he just doesn’t have anything to say.”

“…okay that’s a little better.”

It’s hard to imagine Jungwoo living with someone who doesn’t talk as much as he does.

The way you two often communicate is rapid-fire, dramatic, occasionally riffing off the other’s jokes. He likes to share his thoughts out loud and use you as a sounding board. You like to ramble about abstract art ideas and the special interest of the week.

Trying to picture your yap king living with someone who probably makes three facial expressions a year (says Jungwoo) makes you wish you could be a fly on the wall.

“How much have I told you about Jae? I know he’s always out, or at work so….”

His roommate’s name is Jaehyun. All you really know about him is that he’s close in age to Jungwoo, he used to be really competitive m, and that he has a cousin somewhere in Europe. Not much else past that.

“One time I was over you showed me a photo or two from when you guys were in high school. I’ve seen him in your stories too.”

“You said he was cute! I forgot about that.”

You recall a guy with dark hair and a cute bowl cut, wearing the same basketball jersey as Jungwoo. When you said cute, you were referring to their round faces and goofy hair cuts. The more recent pictures on Instagram were usually from an angle where you couldn’t really see his face, but he was always dressed nice from what you could tell.

“He was! Little cutie stranger man.”

There’s a beat.

“Okay, so about that. He’s was cute but now he’s, like, super handsome.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, he’s hot. Bulked up, started dressing nicer, smells good. His jawline is insane. He should actually model. I didn’t know he was going to look like that when we grew up, you know?” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Damn, you ever told him all that?”

“All the time, actually. He’s so sick of me. At this point I’m just saying something that’s objectively true. You’d be lying if you thought he was ugly. So that being said-“

He whips his head towards you, you watch a plot and scheme form in his brain. His lips curl into something devilish.

“Careful not to fall in love with my roommate, yeah?”

You blink at him, two times. Three times.

“Huh?”

His words sounded like a warning, but it feels like he very much would prefer you do the opposite.

“I just feel like he’s someone you’d fall for.”

“You’ve never seen me fall for anyone. Not once since you’ve known me.”

“Exactly. Which is why I’m saying… I think you guys will get along well.”

“Don’t hope too hard, but I’m sure he’s lovely.”

Sighing, Jungwoo offers you a sympathetic look. You ignore it and instead check for any emails from the art festival you’re vending at later in the month. It’s not much help, as you can still feel his eyes on you.

“I think he’d be good for you.”

“I don’t think playing matchmaker with your friends is that good of an idea,” you clipped.

Right before you met Jungwoo in senior year of college, you’d been in a relationship that ended pretty badly. You were in love, and you think he was, too. At one point at least.

But when things run their course, and you stay in them too long, they start to drain you of everything.

You’d lost a lot of time and energy trying to be pretty enough, interesting enough, desirable enough to keep the spark alive. To keep his attention. But to no avail. It was like he was just waiting for you to leave.

After a while, feeling empty and settling for whatever he could toss your way was too much to bear. It was just time to let go.

It was hard when at the end, you realized he just didn’t love you like you loved him. But was too scared himself to be honest with you about it.

Heartbreak was one thing, but grieving a relationship that wasn’t all that real was another. It took you a long time to move through that pain.

Jungwoo watched you put a lot of effort into rebuilding your personality, your self worth, your confidence. He was nothing but supportive, as were your other friends, dragging you to every show in the city, joining you at a new cafe or listening to your new ideas about art you’d been neglecting. And Jungwoo’s friends were a wonderful addition to your life, as well.

It was beyond being choosy- you’d taken yourself out of the dating game altogether, focusing on work, art, your friends. Yourself.

Now you were very careful not to let anyone in and disrupt that. It’s been a beautiful life to fall back into; you’d hate to lose it to the wrong person.

Jungwoo is nothing but understanding still, squeezing your arm instead of pushing any further.

“Well, regardless, I know you’ll get along well. Even as friends.”

You roll your eyes at him, a small smile creeping back onto your face.

“Don’t look into his eyes, though, seriously. He’s something else.”

On the trip over to Jungwoos apartment your friend tells you about her day, catching you up on some work gossip and her roommates string of interesting dates.

She laughs at how engrossed you are in her words, loving how excited you are to listen to the tea. You’re asking questions, connecting dots. The entertainment is delicious.

“I’m never on shit, so I’m living vicariously through you guys,” you sigh.

“We’re on shit tonight! I’m excited to party with Jungwoo.”

You flit your eyes over to her. “Yeah?”

“Girl, yes. He seems like a good person to party with. He’s always so bubbly and sweet when we go out for coffee, and always supportive of you so he’s good in my book.”

You wish she knew why you were smiling so big.

“He is a sweetheart, and a wonderful friend. I feel like you guys will get along well, I’m surprised we haven’t all gone out before.”

Pulling your phone out, you open your camera to check for a lipgloss reapplication when text from Jungwoo comes through.

woo-ah: 🎶 what’s ur ETA?🎵

“C-can I be honest with you?”

Immediately you lock your phone, adjusting your body to give her your full attention.

“Of course you can.”

She glances towards the driver, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth like she’s telling you a juicy secret.

“I think he’s gorgeous.” Her cute confession has you both giggling like schoolgirls in the back of the rideshare. “Don’t tell him, please!”

“Babe, your secret is safe with me.” You pinch your fingers together, pretending to zip your lips. “You wanna hear a secret?”

Her eyes widen in anticipation.

“I think he thinks you’re cute, too.”

“Shut up, no way!”

“Let’s just say I have insider info.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

you: appx 4 min 🤠

woo-ah: 🪩🕺🫶🏼

You lock arms with your friend as you lead the way into the apartment building, being here enough times to know what floor and that the right elevator is faster than the left.

She’s talking about the book her roommate just recommended her as you get to Jungwoos floor. You even ask her to send you a text, saying that she should start a bookclub as you rap your knuckles on the door.

Jungwoo opens the door, moving to hug you both and welcome you into the apartment.

“Come in, come in!”

Music is playing from a speaker, and a chorus of voices comes from the living room.

You walk ahead of Jungwoo and your friend, who are exchanging thank you’s for invitations and gifts of alcohol, and a chorus of voices welcomes you in the living room.

Doyoung and Donghyuck practically race and slide around in their socks to hug you and kiss you on the forehead and you pull them in for a haphazard group hug.

“Long time no see!” Doyoung clasps his hands together. “It’s so nice to have us all together at one time.”

“What a mom, we’re here to get shitfaced.” Donghyuck teasing Doyoung is secretly something you live for, but you pretend to defend Doyoung from him.

“Let us get a few drinks in before you start shit talking him, damn!”

The guys make sure you’re introduced to the rest of their friends, the ones you haven’t had a chance to meet yet. You’ve heard all their names in conversation, usually when talking about some social event or fun times they had back in school. It was wonderful to finally put names to faces, and they were more than happy to do the same for you.

“Jungwoo finally brought you around!” Renjun and Jaemin cheer. “We’ve been wanting to meet you for so long.”

You blush under all the affection from them.

“I’m so glad to finally meet you guys.”

“Come on, you have to try the cocktail YangYang made.”

Dragging you into the kitchen, you’re flooded by more introductions, jokes and insanely loud laughter, and it feels like you’ve been doing this for years with them already.

YangYang passes you a glass, a sliced lemon garnishing the side and all. You take one sip, then immediately take another. “Wow, this is delicious. Thank you!”

“There are three kinds of liquors in there,” he says, shooting you an apologetic look. “All light, but they told me I had to get everyone drunk, so-“

Before he can even try to apologize, stop him.

“That’s my kind of drink, then!” And you propose a toast with whoever’s in the kitchen.

The cheers begin to die down when someone walks into the kitchen.

Jungwoo has a lot of attractive friends. You knew this from the jump. He’s a model, he had model friends, friends who were in entertainment and the arts. From seeing whoever was on his Instagram story every few weeks, to getting drinks with everyone else occasionally, you’d gotten very used to being surrounded by pretty men.

Jungwoo did not prepare you well enough for Jeong Jaehyun.

“It’s our boy! Congratulations!”

The kitchen erupts into more greetings and well wishes as the man of the hour had just arrived. You sit back as everyone moves into pat him on the back, hug him or, like Donghyuck, kiss him right on the cheek.

Everyone’s voices just turn into background noise as you take him in.

He smiles the most beautiful smile you’ve ever been blessed enough to witness, and you have to force yourself to take a large sip of your drink so not to gawk at him.

Renjun and Jaemin motion for you to come closer, and you use the one solid second you have to steel your nerves as you step closer to them.

Jaemin slings his arm around you. “Jae, have you met our girl yet?”

Renjun playfully shakes his arm. “Jungwoo has been keeping her from us for eons.”

Jaehyun takes a step closer to you. He’s tall, much taller than you, so you have to tilt your head back to fully look at him.

And what a sight to see.

Jaehyun smiles again, a little shy but just for you. His eyes crinkle at the corners, smile so sincere and kind like he’s smiling at someone he’s known for years.

Extending his hand out to you, he wants to greet you properly. Shakily you place your smaller hand in his. But instead of shaking your hand, he uses both hands to gently hold it.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.”

The baritone voice almost knocks you on your ass.

Taking take a moment to will some confidence, some chill to come through when you speak, you swallow and push your shoulders back.

“You as well, Jaehyun. It’s been a long time coming, yeah?”

It’s taking everything in you to sound normal and relaxed, unfazed by this man.

He cocks his head to the side and laughs, his nose crinkling and smile lines that resemble whiskers making themselves visible. The sight makes your head spin.

“A very long time.” He releases your hand, and you place it against the side of your glass hoping it will absorb some of the heat from the exchange. “Thank you for coming.”

With your resolve expiring in seconds, you’re so thankful for Jungwoo making his way into the kitchen. While he introduces your work friend to Jaehyun, you shuffle out the kitchen alongside Renjun and Jaemin.

You sit on the armrest of the couch, listening to them bicker over what game the party should play first, remembering how to breathe.

Jaehyun quietly settles into a chair for one close to you, tuning into the commotion. He doesn’t make a move towards you, and you’re glad even if just for a moment. Out the corner of your eye, you take him in.

Handsome isn’t the right word to use, you think. He’s dressed clean and simple, nice jeans and a white t-shirt. The side profile is something unreal, perfect chiseled features but his face still soft and welcoming. His dark hair is slightly pushed back, a few stands falling over his forehead. He leans forward to tap Jaemin on the shoulder, complimenting him on ‘how big he’s gotten’ at the gym, with the younger preening under his praise.

Just in the short time in the same room, it’s clear that Jaehyun is like a big brother. And from what Jungwoo has told you is super sweet and caring. That alone makes you want to know him more, and makes him all the more attractive.

Looking over at you, he offers you a small smile which you mirror to avoid coming off as awkward. Noticing that you are both nursing the same drink, he raises his glass towards you for a small toast.

“To you and the summer,” you offer, raising your glass as you do so.

“I can drink to that.”

You take another large swig of your drink, hoping after the third your nerves can handle more than two sentences next time.

It’s silly, you think, to be this affected by a man. An attractive one, yes. But just a man. A friend of a friend, even.

Jungwoo’s words echo in the back of your mind, that he thought you and Jaehyun would get along well. Part of you doesn’t want to prove him right, but another part of you wonders if getting along with Jaehyun wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

So you try your best to start and make conversation.

“I heard about your promotion, congratulations!”

“Ah thank you,” he says, smiling into his cup. “It’s actually more of a career change.”

“Really? What are you going to be doing?”

He takes a minute to respond, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard in the first place. Before you can repeat yourself, however, he’s speaking again.

“I’m… writing music. Singing some, too. For me and for others.” He points over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’ll be working with Taeyong a lot, in his studio.”

Eyebrows raising, you lean in a bit.

“You sing, Jaehyun?”

“Sometimes.” He takes a drink. “I write stories on artists, interview people in music. Do some editing. The company I work for was really cool about letting me try different things, I really liked working for them.”

There’s a moment where you’re not sure if he’s going to speak again, and right when you think you should ask another question he continues.

“But I always wanted to sing my own songs, produce my own work. My current line of business has its perks, a lot of connections too. So I’ve been working on my own stuff on the side.”

You didn’t peg him as someone in performance- he’s so pretty you’re surprised he isn’t a model or an actor honestly. But he doesn’t seem to be anything anyone would think at first glance.

“That’s so exciting. Especially working with friends, I like Taeyongie’s music. And ’m really happy to hear you’re able to chase after your dream.”

“Thank you, I’m excited to share.”

He looks at you through his eyelashes as he takes another drink.

So we’re both trying to numb our nerves, you thought to yourself.

“I hope I get to hear some music from you soon.”

He casts another smile your way, and that’s when you know the liquor is kicking in because it doesn’t send you reeling this time.

“I hope you do, too. Soon.”

“Shots?”

Everyone gathers around in the living room, passing small glasses around to those partaking in alcoholic festivities tonight. You pass one to Jaehyun, who holds it up against the light.

“I haven’t taken a shot in a long time.”

“I got you the good shit, Jae.” Jungwoo holds up two expensive bottles. “Whiskey? Or gin?”

“Oh shit… let’s do the gin. Sticking with lights tonight.”

He asks for your preference, and you do the same.

Jungwoo opens the bottle of gin and pours the first round of shots for the night. After he pours his own, he holds his glass up for a toast.

“I know this is, like, the fourth toast of the night but it probably won’t be the last if I’m being honest.”

Taeyong groans. “I’m betting on at least seven in total.”

“Those are rookie numbers,” YangYang yells out, the younger boys cackling and suggesting higher numbers.

“Anyway!” Jungwoo bangs the gin bottle on the coffee table. “This is the emotional one. It’s the end of the summer and I hate to see her go. But we’re moving into fall, and falling into our new lives-“

Donghyuck pretends to yawn.

“Dude shut up, it’s just Jaehyun-”

“I’m not finished!” And he taps the bottle again, your head falling against the back of the couch in silent laughter. “Thank you all for being part of another summer and thank you guys for coming to celebrate one of my closest, oldest friends.”

“Literally.”

Doyoung throws a pillow at Donghyuck and motions for Jungwoo to continue.

Jungwoo turns to Jaehyun, who’s made his way onto the couch alongside you and your friend. “I’m happy to see you make your wildest dreams come true. I can’t wait to see you become the sexy superstar you were always meant to be. Cheers!”

The room is full of cheers and then groans from knocking back shots with no chasers, but it’s a pleasant burn as it slides down your throat.

You blow a kiss at Jungwoo, wiping a fake tear from your eye. “Your speech was beautiful. Very moving.”

The next hour is filled with mini beer pong (players had to sip water instead of alcohol, many thanks to Doyoung), stories about the boys time in school or how some of them met their partners, and shared soju.

The boys complain that he’ll cheat if he plays so instead Jaehyun shares a strong bottle of peach soju, his favorite, with you and your coworker.

At first, it’s very cute to just watch Jaehyun laugh at all of his friends antics. He enjoys listening, occasionally cracking a few jokes or making funny noises. But he’s more than happy to settle back into the couch and observe.

But he’s also big on being a good host, even if he’s the one being celebrated- if he isn’t offering you another drink he’s offering to grab something from the kitchen for you. They’re small but clear gestures to make sure his couch neighbors are as comfortable as he is.

He’s laid back and quiet but attentive- it has you swooning a bit. It’s a contrast to the rest of the men in the apartment, who are also sweet but characteristically loud and rambunctious. You love it, but it’s fascinating to watch Jaehyun hum and giggle to himself rather than dominate a conversation.

After you clear the second soju bottle and Jungwoo has wedged himself between you and your friend, you think you hear Jaehyun giggle beside you.

“What’s so funny?” You laugh, setting the empty bottle down on the coffee table.

He just shrugs, cheeks beginning to flush from the alcohol. He’s pretty like this, you think.

“Are you a silly drunk, Jae?” You tease, catching the attention of Donghyuck.

“Oh man, he’s gonna start getting real silly soon.” The younger man comes to sit on the armrest closest to Jaehyun, affectionately brushing his hair off his forehead. He weakly tries to swat Donghyucks hand away.

“I’m not silly,” he tries to argue, way too cute and whiny compared to the man you met just two hours ago.

“You’re sooo silly right now,” Donghyuck laughs. “She’s going to have to take care of you soon!”

His eyebrows shoot up and he tries to sit straighter, attempting to coolly settle against the back of the couch. “No, no. I’m fine. I’m-“

“Come get some air with us!” Jaemin and Donghyuck pull him up by his arms, with little to no resistance from Jaehyun. He just rolls his eyes as they pull him to his feet.

Jaemin cheers, pushing him towards the sliding door to the deck.

Looking over his shoulder, he nods at you. “Need anything while I’m up?”

You wave him off towards the door.

“No, I’m okay. Go get some air.”

With you beaming up at him, Jaehyun swears the room has gotten a few degrees hotter. The air will do him good.

Jaehyun finds you in the kitchen later, just finishing one of the cookies someone brought. You pass one to him and he finishes it in one bite.

“How many drinks in are you?”

“Shit… I’m at about four. Not including that shot.”

“I think I’m at about the same,” he says, shuffling closer to you at the kitchen island overlooking the living room.

There’s a moment of silence that you share, watching all of his and Jungwoos friends (and yours now) fill up the apartment with laughter (and some screaming- Renjun set Mario Kart up on the tv).

Your heart swells knowing how loved Jungwoo is, as well as Jaehyun.

But then it dawns on you that you haven’t seen Jungwoo or your friend in a while. Before you can mention that to Jaehyun, he bumps his hip against yours.

The alcohol might not have been enough to turn the alarms off in your brain yet, but your body is slow to react to him essentially snuggling into your side. He’s warm, and he smells warm too. Like a vanilla candle. There’s something else you can’t place, but it’s more than pleasant.

“I have to tell you a secret.” He whispers, and it’s cute and kind of whiny.

“A secret?” You say, barely over a whisper. He nods slowly, looking into the crowd.

He can’t see shit, in all honesty.

“I may or may not be a little crossed.”

“That’s what I smell on you?”

“Shit, is it bad?” Just like that, he’s a little more self conscious than he is silly. He smells his shirt in a few different places, earning a laugh from you.

“No, you’re fine. It’s because you’re so close that I can smell it.” He sighs and laughs almost at himself. “Is that where you and the boys went?”

“Yeah. I don’t usually smoke but it’s something like a special occasion.”

“Absolutely it is. You deserve it.”

He simply hums, letting a a few seconds pass before he speaks again.

“You smoke?”

“Weed? Rarely.”

“Cigs?”

“Not once in my life.”

“Good for you, we’re all nicotine addicts in here.”

“Vape away, I could never judge.”

At that you both turn towards the other at the same time, chests inches apart.

His eyes are low from the weed, the whites tinted red. He’s looking down at you, a silly, boyish grin on his lips. You can’t help but blush under his gaze, lips curving into a grin of their own.

“Thanks for coming tonight.” His voice is soft, barely audible. You feel yourself subconsciously leaning into him, wishing to hear him a little louder.

“Of course, I had to support the homie. And play wingman.”

He tilts his head back to glance around the room , the realization hitting him then.

“Oh shit, I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Then I guess I did a good job. I barely did anything but whatever.”

He laughs, voice deep and rumbly. “You did great.”

He leans onto the counter, his arm resting closing to where your hip sits against the edge. He slowly shifts his eyes back over to you, looking over your frame. Just once, even his sluggish brain is careful not to get ahead of itself.

“I’m glad we finally got to meet.”

“I am too.” Your skin is on fire under his intense gaze. It’s not so much intense as it is just so warm, so amiable. You deflect to take some of the heat off of you, quite literally. “Jungwoo talks about you all the time.”

“Yeah? What does he say?”

That you’re so fucking handsome and I’d be stupid to lie and disagree.

“That you don’t say too much, but you’re a really good friend.”

A surprised look washed over his face, then he turns sheepish.

“He’s…… that’s sweet of him.” Jaehyun rubs the back of his neck, thinking on his next words as carefully as his crossed mind will allow him. “I’m glad you’re his friend. He needs someone like you.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“What do you mean?”

“Someone who isn’t as shy as him.”

“Haha, you think I don’t get shy?” It’s funny when you think back on how nerve wracking is was to shake his hand for the first time.

But he’s just giving you this knowing look now, a ghost of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

“If you do, you hide it well.” You could scream. Can he see right through you? “But seriously. You push him to do well.”

Jaehyun is slow to speak, but even inebriated he’s intentional. Something you’ve learned in just the past few hours about him is that it may take him a while to get his thoughts out, but it’s more than worth it to hear what he has to say.

You hang on to every pause like your life depends on it, eager to hear what comes out of his mouth next.

“Before you guys worked together, he was a lot more… reserved. And passive? Like, he’s good at everything he does. We know this. But… he never really sought recognition.”

“You’re right. But he deserves it.”

He nods while he thinks on his next words.

“Yeah. I remember in school he was just happy to pass and be included in things. Never attracted much attention to himself. Never wanted to be in the spotlight. But since working with you, he’s become proud of the work he does. His confidence has grown. He’s louder. Funnier. You pushed him a lot.”

“That’s all him, he works hard-“

“He does, you pushed him though. When he finally started modeling last year all he could do was say how thankful he was for you. How you encouraged him, helped him with headshots. Went shopping with him and made sure he felt good going into auditions. And it took off.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“He… he said that? Really?”

“He did. You’ve been a very good friend to him.”

Blinking away the tears that started to pinprick behind your eyes, you smile at Jaehyun whose own eyes are filled with mirth. Even cross faded, Jaehyun’s words were so sincere and kind.

“Are you crying?”

You sniffle, using your thumbs to collect any tears in the corner of your eyes so not to ruin your makeup.

“I was gonna but I’m okay.”

He laughs that hearty laugh again and ruffles your hair. It’s such a small gesture, but so comfortable. Domestic even. Like you’ve been friends for years. It makes your heart even fuller than it already is and if he keeps it up, it’ll burst before the end of the night.

The alcohol coursing through you is doing nothing but spread this warmth, double time. Happiness feels good coursing through you.

“Let’s get some water, yeah?” He cocks his head toward the fridge. “Doyoung brought some sparkling water.”

You begin to follow him as he takes a few steps backwards. “What flavor?”

“We have…” He starts, opening the door to the fridge. “I can barely see. Wow.”

“Move, I’ll look.”

You hip check him out of the way, and hear someone come into the kitchen behind you.

“I’m no better, but this looks like ginger peach. And calamansi.”

“Pass me a calamansi, please? You want a sparkling water, Taeyong?”

“Do you think it’s a good mixer for gin?” He asks, loud enough for someone in the living room to hear.

Then, that someone yells out: “Another round of shots?”

Laughing, you hand Jaehyun his sparkling water, and pass a ginger and peach flavored water to Taeyong. “Let’s find out, yeah?”

More cheering is heard as you shuffle back into the living room and let Doyoung pour the next round of shots.

He’s a sweetheart and pours the shots right into you and Taeyongs cans, Jaehyun sneakily placing a sealed water bottle next to your foot.

It’s well into the night, the hour a single digit when the party starts to die down.

Jungwoo is in the loveseat for one and a half, your friend snuggled into his side.

You’ve found yourself back on the couch with Jaehyuns head resting on your shoulder and one of his legs swung over Taeyongs. Miraculously, Donghyuck has found a way to lay across you all comfortably.

“I’m going to order a ride home for us soon,” your friend says through a yawn. Donghyuck is already whining, earning some light smacks from the older boys under him.

“We’re so comfy, why would you want to mess up our cuddle pile?

“I’m not cuddling, I’m being leaned on,” you tease, grinning down at Jaehyun who can barely hold his eyes open. He’s trying his best to focus on one of your faces because he sees three, but he’s not complaining.

��Hm… my bad.” He moves to sit up, but Donghyuck just nestles into him even further, and Jaehyun can’t seem to muster up enough strength to (care) knock him into the floor. “I really… I really did try.”

Jaehyun has hit peak silly hours. From little hums and cute noises to the worst dad jokes you’ve heard in a while, you understand what Donghyuck meant earlier. Jaemin and Jungwoo even got him to cutely pose for drunk selfies earlier.

Laughing through your nose, you use the hand that’s free to reach around and pat his cheek affectionately. In this state he instinctually leans into your touch, humming in approval. You have to fight the urge to squeeze his cheeks. “Jae you gonna be alright?”

“I told you she was going to have to take care of you!” At that, he and Taeyong had enough and pushed him into the floor. He lets out a squawk as his body hits the ground with a light thud. “Fuck. It’s comfier down here anyway.”

Jungwoo slowly stands up, helping your friend to her feet. “So Donghyuck is sleeping here, literally right there. No blanket. I don’t want to see you using something weird as a replacement either.”

While the boys still present start to bicker some more, Jaehyun taps your knee to get your attention.

“I’ll be okay. Just got a little carried away.”

“You’re okay. Let’s get you to bed then?”

His eyes open a little wider, mouth parting to say something. You wait.

“Are you staying over?”

“No I’m going home tonight.”

He pouts, and it almost sends you to another dimension.

“Aw don’t make that face, I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay. Good.”

You call to Taeyong, who really isn’t that much better, but he does help you get Jaehyun off the couch and down the hall to his bedroom.

You let Taeyong handle the hard part of getting him out of his jeans and under the covers, heading to the kitchen to fill a glass of water. “Jungwoo, you have any painkiller?”

“In that drawer by the stove.” He stands beside you in the kitchen. “For Jae?”

“Yeah. You want any water?”

“Nah I was good tonight. I’ll be okay.” He purses his lips. “You’re sweet for that. Taking care of him.”

“I’m not doing anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I know… exactly what I mean.” You shake your head and walk to Jaehyun’s room, entering while Taeyong exits.

“He’s decent, just whiny.”

“Thank you, I’ll just leave this for him then.”

You approach the side of the bed where he’s sprawled out, eyes barely open but you can see them following you even in the dark.

“Brought you some water. And some painkiller. Take it when you can, yeah?”

“Hm. Tell Jungwoo to give Hyuck a blanket.”

You chuckle and ruffle his hair before moving to leave.

“Have a good night, Jaehyun.”

“Hmm…”

unknown number: hey it’s jaehyun

unknown number: jungwoo gave me your number. thanks for coming yesterday. don’t be a stranger!

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [11] - Blast

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Every break up has an aftermath.

Word Count: 4244

CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

The month after your brutal breakup hadn’t been so easy.

When Theo was around, you made sure he didn’t notice anything. His happiness was the most important thing for you, it had been that way ever since he was born, so you weren’t going to ruin it. Every weekend, you pretended you were incredibly happy and that nothing was wrong at all, despite the heartbreak you were going through.

Your friends were the only people who knew just how sad you were, and they had formed a very united front to change that.

“We have found the one.”

You pulled your brows together as you filled Jamie’s cup while Nik gave you a proud smile and Julie sat up straighter, repressing a squeal.

“You two are dating, so you’ve already found ‘the one’” you used air quotes, making Nik roll his eyes.

“Not for us!”

“And Julie would’ve told me if she found the one.”

“I’d also be shouting it from the rooftops, but this isn’t about me.”

You threw your head back. “I’m not gonna go on a blind date.”

“Hear me out,” Jamie said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “This guy has been approved in the group chat.”

“What group chat?”

“Our group chat.”

Your jaw dropped. “You guys have a group chat without me?”

“Yes because it’s being used purely to find you your Mr. Right.”

“And we know it’s been only a month since you and Logan broke up but fuck Logan,” Julie added. “I’ve been carrying a magnet in my purse ever since you told me about your break up, just in case I run into him.”

Nik turned to look at her better. “You’re joking.”

Julie grabbed her purse and took out a small horseshoe magnet, making your eyes widen.

“I don’t play about my threats,” she told Nik. “That motherfucker broke my best friend’s heart, so I’ll point this magnet at his—”

“Where did you even get a magnet like that?” you cut her off and she shrugged.

“I googled it.”

“I’ve only seen these in cartoons,” Nik mused, reaching out to get the magnet from Julie before Jamie cleared his throat.

“Our point is,” he said. “You’re better off without Logan, and I think you’d really like this guy.”

You heaved a sigh, resting your elbows on the counter.

“Guys I really appreciate all the effort,” you said and stole a look at Julie. “And the magnet but—seriously, you know how much I hate blind dates.”

“Well does it count as a blind date if we show you his picture?” Nik asked, getting the phone from Jamie before turning the screen so that you could see the picture.

Even you had to admit, he looked cute. It was as if Jamie had decided to find you someone the complete opposite of Logan; he seemed younger than him -around Jamie’s age if you weren’t mistaken-, he had dirty blonde hair, and just from the picture alone, you could tell he was the type of person who liked to smile, a lot. Judging by his white coat, he worked in the same hospital Jamie worked in, and you stole a look at him.

“Your coworker?”

“He works in ER,” Jamie said. “Saved a kid’s life the other day.”

“And I’ve met him,” Nik said. “He’s like a cute puppy but also a badass.”

“And he is very handsome, you like handsome,” Julie sang tauntingly and you ran a hand over your face.

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not over Logan yet.”

“The best way to get over someone is good sex,” Julie pointed out. “We’re not telling you to move in with the guy. We’re just telling you to just…go on a date and see where things go.”

“And it could help,” Nik said softly. “You know, distracting yourself from your ex.”

You bit inside your cheek, then clicked your tongue.

“Ugh, fine,” you muttered, making them grin. “But if I don’t like him, I’ll leave and you guys will delete that group chat. Alright?”

“Deal.”

                                                 *

 One of the things you hated about blind dates was that you always got incredibly nervous right before. The urge to text them and stay in instead would always get the best of you—now to think of it, the only person you didn’t get that urge with was Logan.

Well.

Logan was out of the picture, and you had to deal with that.

But if anything, at least Jamie knew this guy and was friends with him, so the odds of him being an ass was pretty low.

You pulled over in front of the restaurant before checking your phone to see whether it was in fact the right place, then slipped a little in the seat. This was by no means your first rodeo but…

You really wanted to just go home and get under covers and listen to Julie’s break up playlist.

“Worst case scenario, you’ll just have one drink and go back home,” you muttered to yourself. “Come on soldier.”

You checked your makeup in the rear mirror, then got out of the car and locked it before you smoothed out your dress and made your way to the restaurant. The hostess greeted you and after you gave her your name, you followed her into the restaurant.

Oh, he was already there.

If Logan wasn’t at the back of your mind, you were sure that you would’ve been excited. He really was a good looking guy, the smile that appeared on his face upon seeing you looked very genuine, and the fact that he jumped on his feet to greet you was a great sign.

However—

Okay no, you were not going to think about Logan tonight, not at all.

“Hi!” he said and you smiled back.

“Hi,” you said and you extended your hand but he went for a hug before he paused and made a move to shake your hand but this time you were the one who went for a hug, so you gave him a curt hug before pulling back.

“Jesus—sorry, that was awkward,” he said and you tried to control your giggle at the look of slight regret on his face.

“No worries,” you assured him and he gave you a tentative smile.

“I’m Hayes.”

You introduced yourself as well before the waiter pulled your chair for you and you thanked him, then sat down. Hayes followed you suit, then motioned at his wine glass and the appetizers.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“No no, not at all,” you said and looked up at the waiter who put the menu in front of you. “Can I get the same as well? Thank you.”

Waiter nodded and walked away from your table, and you turned to Hayes.

“Uh, hi again.”

“Hey,” he said with a chuckle. “So uh…blind but not so blind date?”

“Sounds about right,” you said. “I mean I saw your picture.”

“So have I.”

“Jamie showed it to you?”

“Technically no.”

You blinked a couple of times. “How’s that?”

“Jamie has a picture of you and your whole friend group on his desk,” he admitted as the waiter brought your wine and you thanked him. “I saw your pic there and I asked about you in a way that was very subtle in my opinion but Jamie disagrees.”

You raised your brows, smiling slightly. “You’re not serious.”

“It was kind of like Jamie was an app and I was fervently trying to swipe.”

A small laugh escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth. “Oh my God…”

“Am I giving off serial killer vibes?” he asked to no one in particular. “Because I swear I save people for a living, that’s not—it’s just that you are very pretty and I’m very rusty when it comes to all this.”

You lowered your hands to give him a bright smile.

“You’re very sweet,” you said. “I didn’t think you were rusty.”

“No?” he asked and let out a breath. “Thank God.”

“It’s been a while?” you asked him after a moment of hesitation and he hummed.

“Listen, rusty or not I know talking about previous relationships is a red flag.”

“I don’t mind,” you said. “Let me guess, you had a long relationship and…?”

“And walked in on her and my best friend.”

“Ouch.”

“Former best friend.”

“Still ouch,” you said with a grimace. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I mean—I changed cities but it has to be for a good cause. At least that’s what I’m choosing to believe.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“How about you? I find it hard to believe you go on blind dates if I’m honest.”

“Oh I’ve gone on blind dates,” you assured him. “And uh—my friends have made it their life mission to matchmake me, they apparently have a group chat where they approve people.”

Hayes pulled his brows together. “Holy shit, I’ve been approved in the group chat?”

“Yes you have,” you said. “Congratulations.”

“I feel very validated,” he mused, making you giggle. “No seriously, knowing Jamie, this is the same as passing a very difficult exam with a jury.”

“Yeah he’s very protective, especially after—” you stopped yourself and Hayes shot you a lighthearted look.

“Hey, I talked about my ex.”

“Well, I got dumped,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “And Jamie never approved of him, so now he’s like extra careful.”

Hayes hummed and lifted his wine glass slightly.

“Well, on behalf of all men in this city, we’re all very glad that your ex is an idiot.”

You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glass as well.

“Yeah well,” you trailed off, trying your hardest to not let your thoughts drift to Logan. “So you’re an E.R. doctor?”

“I am,” he said. “And you?”

“Oh I…I’m just a waitress,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, that feeling of inadequacy hitting you out of nowhere once again. “Nothing too exciting.”

“Do you like where you work?”

“Yeah, I’m friends with everyone there except my boss,” you said. “It’s pretty nice. And you? I heard you saved a kid’s life the other day.”

A bright smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, that’s why I like working in the E.R. I can actually make a difference in just seconds, you know? It makes me feel alive, like I’m doing something right with my life.”

You nodded your head. “I can imagine. Sounds wonderful, really.”

He sipped his wine.

“So tell me more about you,” he said. “Jamie says you have a son?”

“Yeah!” you said, your eyes lighting up at the mention of Theo. “Yeah I do. Theo. He’s the cutest kid in the world, and I’m very objective about it.”

That made him laugh. “At first I thought Jamie was a father, with all the drawings in his office…”

“Oh he still keeps those?”

“With all due respect, it’s like a shrine in his office.”

“You should see his and Nik’s fridge, they have like one picture there and the rest is Theo’s artwork.”

“Really?”

“He had his artist phase, now he’s—” you started but were cut off when your phone started buzzing. You gave him an apologetic look.

“Excuse me,” you said as you grabbed it out of your purse, but as soon as you saw the name flashing on the screen, your heart dropped.

Logan.

A part of you -the petulant part of you- wanted to reject the call but you took a deep breath, then licked your lips and then answered.

“Hello?”

There was a second of hesitation on the other line before he cleared his throat.

“Theo is fine,” he said. “But he needs you here.”

Your head shot up. “What? What happened?”

“There was a small accident—”

“What accident?” you asked, your heart leaping to your throat as fear crashed down on you. “What—is he—”

“Like I said, he’s completely fine, I promise,” he said, his deep voice soothing your fear as always. “He had a nightmare, his powers took over and he blew up the wall in his room accidentally but he’s fine and so is everyone else. He locked himself in the basement though, and refuses to come out.”

You could feel your throat tightening but you took a shaky breath, then nodded as if he could see you.

“I’m on my way,” you said and hung up before turning to Hayes.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, pushing your phone into your purse. “Theo is…he’s in a boarding school in the city but he—he had a nightmare and he locked himself in the basement.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Hayes said, frowning. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” you said despite the anxiety churning your stomach, then stood up. “But I need to go, he must be terrified.”

“Of course,” Hayes stood up with you. “Would you like me to drive you there?”

“No no, I can drive,” you said. “I really appreciate it though, thank you.”

“Oh it’s nothing, really,” he said. “I hope he’s feels better.”

“Sorry, again.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “Is it okay if I get your number from Jamie?”

“Sure!” you said. “I’ll—I’ll see you around I guess?”

“Have a nice night,” he said and you gave him a curt smile, then made your way out of the restaurant, your heart beating in your ears.

                                                 *

If it were any other time, you would’ve been nervous to see Logan after a month, for the first time after your break up but you were so worried about Theo that it didn’t even cross your mind that Logan would be the one to greet you.

Which, of course he was the one to greet you by the door. He probably took your scent the moment you drove through the gates.

He looked almost frozen the moment you stepped out of your car but he recovered very fast.

“Hey—”

“Where is he?” you asked without so much as glance in his direction as you walked past him into the mansion and Logan easily caught up with you.

“In the basement,” he said. “Follow me.”

When you two got to the basement, Storm and Jean were already there.

“Hey, he’s totally fine,” Jean assured you the moment she saw you and Storm nodded her head.

 “We could’ve opened the door but we didn’t want to scare him any more than he already is,” she assured you. “He only said he wants you, and now he’s not talking to us.”

“But he’s not hurt in any way,” Logan added. “I don’t smell any blood or pain, and Jean already checked his mind.”

You raised your brows, then took a deep breath.

“Thanks,” you said and smiled at Storm and Jean. “Really, thank you so much. I can take it from here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said and swallowed thickly. “It’s not the first time this happens.”

Storm and Jean exchanged glances before Storm turned to you.

“I’ll just go and check the other students then.”

“And I’ll fill Charles in,” Jean said, squeezing your arm in a reassuring manner before they both walked away and you ran a hand over your face, then walked to the door of the basement and knocked softly.

“Bean?”

The only answer you got was a sniffle, breaking your heart to smithereens. You could feel your own eyes burning but you frowned, forcing yourself to focus.

“Bean, are you there?”

“…Yes,” his small voice reached you and you took a deep breath.

“You think you can open the door?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“I know,” you said, nodding fervently. “Everyone has bad dreams, it’s completely normal. And what do we do when we have bad dreams?”

“We have hot chocolate because that makes them go away.”

“Exactly,” you said. “So can you open the door please?”

“People will be angry at me.”

“What? No!” you said. “No one will be angry at you, I promise.”

“Mommy, it was an accident,” he said, a hiccup escaping him and you rested your forehead against the door, squeezing your eyes before swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I know,” you said. “And so does everyone. No one is angry at you—Logan, is anyone angry at Theo?”

Logan came closer to the door so that Theo could hear him better.

“Not at all,” he said. “If anything I’m a little jealous. Blasting walls is so badass, I’d love to be able to do that.”

“You hear that, bean?”

“Really?” Theo’s hopeful voice reached you and Logan smiled slightly.

“Sure bub. And hey, turns out we’ll have to decide on your superhero costume sooner than you think.”

“There you go,” you said. “Superhero costume sounds fun—”

A meow cut you off, making you tilt your head.

“Bean, is there a cat in there with you?”

“…No.”

Another meow reached you and you raised your brows.

“Theo.”

“I found him here and we’re friends now.”

“Okay,” you muttered more to yourself. “Theo—”

“His name is Sir Bartholomeow,” Theo added as if it was imperative that you knew that information and you heaved a sigh.

“Very creative bean, but can you please open the door? So that we can drink hot cocoa and I can meet your friend?”

There was a momentary hesitation and another sniffle before you heard the lock turning and you took a step back so that you could see him better. Theo was still in his pajamas, his glasses slightly crooked over his face as if he had put them on in a hurry, his wide teary eyes looking up at you. In his arms, he was holding probably the grumpiest looking cat you had ever seen in your entire life so tight that it was a wonder why the cat wasn’t trying to escape. A breath of relief left you and you crouched down to get to his level.

“Hi bean,” you said gently. “How about we give your friend to Logan so that they can be friends and I can make sure you’re okay?”

Logan stepped closer. “Yeah bub, I can take the cat—”

“Sir Bartholomeow,” you and Theo said at the same time and Logan cleared his throat.

“Yeah, him.”

Theo sniffled again before tentatively handing Sir Bartholomeow to Logan, and you checked whether he was hurt anywhere before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Theo was still shaking like a leaf and he mumbled ‘mommy’ before burying his face to your chest while you stood up with him in your arms.

“I’m here,” you said softly, still holding him tight. “I’m here, it’s fine. I swear everything is gonna be fine.”

                                                  *

Theo never liked being away from you and that turned into a whole different level whenever he had a nightmare. You would be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to have him in your sight so after he drank his hot chocolate, you had carried him to bed and stayed with him until he fell asleep, humming the lullaby he used to love when he was a baby.

There it was again.

Times like these, you always remembered just how utterly alone and clueless you were in this whole thing.

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked down at him, then leaned in to kiss his head and pulled the covers over him, and walked out of the room as quiet as a mouse.

 The mansion was mostly quiet, and even though you could still hear the voices coming from the kitchen, you desperately needed to be alone in case you burst into tears, so you walked through the hallway to step outside, the cold wind hitting your face. Heaving a sigh, you made your way to the stairs to sit down, and wiped at your eyes furiously before wrapping your arms around your knees, fixing your gaze on the stars glimmering in the sky.

You heard the front door open before the familiar footsteps came closer and you felt him drop his jacket over your shoulders before he sat down as well.

“Hi Logan,” you rasped out, sniffling and he offered you a hesitant smile.

“Hey,” he said, putting the bottle of whiskey between you two before he made a face. “Shit, I forgot to bring glasses.”

You scoffed a laugh. “We’ve done worse things than drinking from the same bottle.”

“Right,” he said after a beat and you grabbed the bottle to take a swig, grimacing at the burn before putting it down again.

“How’s your arm?” he asked and you took a shaky breath, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Healed,” you said and turned to look at him better. “I don’t even think about it anymore.”

He was too smart to miss the double meaning of your remark and his lips twitched for a moment.

“I’d bet,” he muttered. “Fun date then?”

You pulled your brows together in confusion and he nodded at you.

“I haven’t seen you in that dress before and you smell like someone else.”

You smelt like—

Oh. Hayes had hugged you.

“I don’t have the capacity to get into that bullshit right now,” you stated and Logan swallowed thickly, then nodded again.

“Right,” he said. “Of course.”

For a minute, the only thing you could hear were the crickets and the sound of the faint wind in the air before Logan take a deep breath.

“He’s fine, princess.”

You bit at your nail, blinking back the tears before you shook your head.

“No he’s not,” you said. “You and I both know that he’s not fine. Not really.”

“He’s too powerful,” Logan said. “Accidents like these will happen, you can’t really avoid them. What matters is that he hasn’t hurt himself or anyone else.”

You took another sip of the whiskey.

“Having you here helped a lot too,” he said. “He calms down when he sees you, that’ll be good for him.”

You clicked your tongue.

“Yeah, for now,” you muttered and Logan frowned.

“For now?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Until he grows up and hates me for everything I’m doing wrong as we speak.”

“That’s not true.”

“No no it is, I’m fucking up big time,” you said with a dry laugh. “Jesus, my mom said I had no idea what I was doing and I was too busy arguing with her that I didn’t even see it but it’s true. I have no clue.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”

“I’ve been doing everything wrong,” you told him, blinking back the tears. “He’s too little to see it now, but sooner or later he’ll see that everything that happened to him is my fault, even the fact that his powers showed up—”

You had to stop talking when your voice cracked and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, sniffling again. He reached out for a second as if he wanted to wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks but then paused, pulling his hand back, his jaw clenching like he was in pain. You wiped at your eyes furiously, letting out a shaky breath.

“I’m terrible at this,” you said, nodding to yourself while Logan kept his burning gaze on you.

“I promise you, you’re not,” he said. “Theo adores you, and I think you’re the best parent I’ve ever seen in my life which in case it has escaped your notice, that’s a lot of years.”

You raised your brows, wiping at your nose before you cleared your throat and took off the jacket to place it into his lap, then stood up with Logan following you suit.

“I can drive you home,” he said and you threw your shoulders back, trying to pull yourself together.

“I had like three sips of whiskey, I can drive.”

“I can still drive you, it’s been a long night.”

“I’m fine.”

“No I want to,” he insisted and you tilted your head, giving him a questioning look. His eyes met yours before he took a deep breath.

“I just…” he trailed off. “I want to—I want to make myself useful.”

You frowned, staring at him. “Why?”

“No reason,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t ask for anything, just…like I said. I want to make myself useful. I need to make myself useful.”

Your stomach did a flip as a painful smile curled your lips.

Oh.

This. You were familiar with this.

You had been through the same. You were in fact going through the same right now, frantically looking for something to ease the pain. Your solution was to follow your friends’ advice and try to date around, ignoring the way it just felt wrong when you were still in love with him, and Logan—

Logan was dealing with it in such a Logan way that it was almost ironic how you didn’t see it coming.

“It’s not going to help,” you said, your voice a mere whisper and he gulped, his jaw clenching.

“It could,” he managed to say through his teeth and you sniffled, shaking your head.

“It won’t,” you rasped out. “I’m sorry, it won’t.”

The agony that flashed over his handsome features twisted at your heart but you managed to smile at him.

“Good night Logan,” you murmured and walked away from him, painfully aware of his eyes following you.

[band--psycho]

Vander x Reader - 5 Years Later...(Part 2)

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Part 2 to my Vander x Reader series - Part 1

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Vander Masterlist / Arcane Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of grief, feeling of dega-vu

You knew the Undercity wasn’t the safest of places to go, at least that’s what your father had always told you. 

So why were you down here? 

Because as much as you appreciated your fathers protectiveness, what type of friend would you be if you let one of your closest friends go down there alone? 

A pretty shit one. 

Which is why, despite the risks, you went with Jayce down to the Undercity. 

Besides, seeing as you were training to be an Enforcer and Jayce was just a student at the academy it was basically your job to escort him and make sure that nothing happened to him; that’s at least what you’d tell Greyson if she asked where you’d been…and your parents, if they asked which you hoped they wouldn’t. 

“Remind me where we’re going?” You asked in a slightly hushed tone as the two of you turned a corner walking down a dimly lit alley, before 

“I need to get some supplies for a project I’m working on,” Jayce answered simply; with an optimistic gleam in his eyes. 

“What project?” you inquired, unable to keep your curiosity at bay; it had certainly been a while since you’d seen Jayce this excited about a project.

“It’s best I don’t tell you, until I can get it working,” he replied; his answer only furthering your curiosity, but perhaps it was for the best for you to know as little as possible…especially if the academy wasn’t aware of it, which by the seams of things, they weren’t. The less you knew the better; though it still played on your mind as the two of you continued walking through the Undercity.  

To most people the Undercity was just an underdeveloped land across the river, deep in the canyons,  beneath Piltover, filled with misfits and thugs; but as you walked through the lanes of the Undercity, you couldn’t help but admire the beauty of it. 

The beauty of how vibrant the lights atop of the shops shone in the darkness; the difference of industrial architecture, making each building its own, if only in a little way.

It was different from Piltover, of course, but beautiful nevertheless. 

Since you'd arrived down here you couldn’t shake this feeling of deja-vu…like you’d been here before. 

It was odd. 

You’d never been down here; not once; so why did it feel so familiar?

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you hadn’t realised Jayce had stopped walking until you walked into the back of him. 

“Sorry,” you whispered, hearing a small chuckle fall from his lips. 

“Lost in your own world again?” he teased, turning around to look at you. 

You simply rolled your eyes at his comment and looked at the building you’d stopped outside; a pawn shop. 

You shot Jayce a confused look; you didn’t understand what this place had that any of the shops in Piltover didn’t; except from some anonymity. 

Down here no one knew him. 

But that only caused the curiosity you had about his project to grow. 

“Stay out here, I won’t be long,” he said before disappearing inside the shop. 

You went to follow him, before you heard a song in the distance, that halted your steps. 

You knew it. 

But you were certain you’d never heard it before…

How did you know a song from the Undercity? 

You turned on your heel, following the sound of the song; you knew it was risky, venturing off into the Undercity alone and you knew Jayce would be worried if he came back outside and noticed you gone, but you couldn’t help it. 

It was like your feet had a mind of their own and before you knew it, you’d come to the source of the music, it was a bar, or at least that’s what you assumed it was seeing as it was called ‘The Last Drop’ and had a logo of a tankard in the middle of the name. 

‘Why does this place seem so familiar?’ you thought to yourself, your eyes narrowing as you stared at the building in front of you. 

You were about to take another step, before you felt someone grab ahold of your wrist; instinctively your training kicked in and your guard went up, ready to fight. 

That was until you saw that it was Jayce who was holding your wrist; he was panting slightly with a worried look in his eyes, “I thought something had happened to you.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, guilt washing over you, “I didn’t mean to worry you,” 

“It’s okay,” he answered softly, tugging on your wrist slightly, leading you away from the bar, “Let’s just get out of here.”

And with that the two of you made your way past the pawn shop Jayce had been in, passing a little boy with white hair leaning against the wall, he had a proud smile on his face that was until he saw you. 

You waved at him politely, confused about why he was staring at you; but the little boy said nothing, he just continued to stare at you, his mouth hanging slightly agape as you vanished out of his view. 

All you could think about as you made your way back to Piltover was how strange today had truly been. 

The deja-vu, the song, the bar, the little boy….none of it was making any sense….

~~~~~~

Vander hated seeing Vi hurt; he also hated that she was a mirror image of how he was when he was younger, so eager to rebel against the topsiders…but it wasn’t that simple. 

That’s what he was trying to get her to understand.

Every action had a consequence. 

He knew that better than anyone. 

He was the one who was too stubborn to call off the uprising, because he wanted to show Piltover that they were worthy of not being left behind on all the grand new ventures Piltover were indulging in; and because of that, he lost so many people that were close to him. 

But no ones ghost was more haunting than yours. 

He just needed Vi to understand that violence wasn’t the way to play this. 

He knew Greyson would probably be paying him a visit soon; the kids, unintentionally, broke an agreement that he’d made with the current sheriff of Piltover, to keep a peace between topside and the Lanes. 

A peace that was now hanging by a thread. 

Once he was sure Vi’s injuries were clean, he rose from the table and began putting away the supplies he’d used to clean her cuts. 

“Vander…there’s something else,” Vi began, halting Vanders movements and making his attention focus back on her. 

“Go on,” he  said calmly, though in his mind he was dreading the next words that were going to come out of her mouth; she’d just been part of blowing up a building in Piltover, what more could there be.

“Ekko said….he said he saw Y/n,” 

Her words short-circuited his mind at the mention of your name.

“What?” he asked; thinking that maybe, somehow, he’d misheard what Vi had said. 

“He said he saw Y/n walking with that topside guy that came into the shop,” she repeated, noticing how Vanders eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to process her words. 

“That was partly why I went up there….to see if she was there,” she continued, rising from her seat, walking over to Vander and placing her hand on his arm. 

She knew how much Vander loved you. 

She knew how much losing you broke him. 

She knew how much losing you hurt both her and Powder; who’d grown so close to you in the few years prior to the uprising. 

That’s why she wanted to be sure that Ekko wasn’t wrong; she’d barely believed him herself when he first told her, but before the explosion happened, she was sure she heard your voice; but without actually seeing you, she couldn't be sure if it was you or if it was just the wishful thinking in her mind.

“She’s dead, Vi,” Vander stated; his voice remaining balanced; although the look in his eyes showed a growing sadness. 

“You’ve never believed that,” 

It wasn’t a lie; he didn’t believe it. 

He might’ve said that you were dead; but Vi knew that deep in his heart, he had never believed it.

He never found your body; and without your body, he could still cling on to the hope that you were alive. 

Vi never really understood why he couldn’t believe your death was real; but now she knew that he was right all along. 

“Ekko got it wrong, it can’t have been her.”

“Vander, he knows what she looks like….” Vi tried to counter, they all knew what you looked like from the photos Vander kept of the two of you; but Vander just went back to putting away the medical supplies before heading to the stairs. 

“He got it wrong,” he answered back, slightly harsher than he’d intended to,before leaving the basement entirely and heading to his own room. 

He all but collapsed onto the side of your bed; his eyes landing on the photo of you he kept on his bedside table. 

You were dead.

That’s what he kept telling himself. 

That’s what he'd had to tell himself for the last five years to keep his own sanity. 

But there was a little voice in the back of his head, a voice that reignited his failing hope…what if you weren’t…what if what Ekko said was true…?

Vander didn’t know what to believe….the memories from that day flooding back into his mind as the pain he’d felt re-entered his heart, tears fell from the Hound Of The Undergrounds eyes, as he tried to work out what to believe. 

What if all these years you’d been alive? 

Why were you in Piltover? 

Why hadn’t you come back to him? 

Did you blame him for what happened on the bridge….did you blame him for the deaths so many people had succumbed to…? 

Is that why you never came home?

So many thoughts were running through his mind; but even if his mind hadn’t settled on a decision, his heart had; he needed to find out the truth. 

And he would; just as soon as he’d smoothed everything out with Greyson about today's incident.

Taglist:

@xacatalepsyx @the-lone-librarian @conretewings @barbersjoy @eternallyvenus @trixiex2 @newlosadventures @eternalgoddessofart @cass-brightwood @fortune-fool02 @arielpanda1 @mothratic @simping-ella @stickyrice5096 @levis-butterfingers @lesbianinyourarea @nagislemontea @dazecrea

I apologise in advance to those who have asked to be on the taglist and aren’t - I’m not ignoring you, I just can’t tag you in it for some reason :(

[jujuscrolled]

Satoru Gojo has a lot of love in his heart and he refuses to keep it all inside. His preferred method of showing exactly how much love he has to offer? Physical touch.

Even before he knew he loved you, your personal space had quickly become his personal space.

“Say, Gojo, you ever heard of personal space?” You asked one day as satoru pressed his leg up against yours while sitting on the bleachers. The two of you were watching Shoko and Suguru “spar”, though really it was just them doing the least amount of work possible - enough to keep Yaga satisfied but no where near enough for it to actually have any effect on their improvement (“you can only get better with real life experience!” Suguru would say leaning back on his chair slightly. “And i’ve got better things to do than fight this loser anyway.” Shoko nodded to herself , ignoring Suguru and Satoru’s eye rolls.)

“It’s Toru to you, and i’ve heard of it. Why do you ask?” He asked leaning closer to your face making you roll your eyes, “oh, you know, it’s just that usually people like to stay within their own personal space. Not in mine.” You thwacked his forehead causing him to whine dramatically before he threw an arm around your shoulders. “But I like your personal space better than mine, Sweets! Not my fault you have your own gravitational pull and stuff.” He grinned as he watched your cheeks bloom a lovely shade of red.

That being said if he sees anyone invading your personal space he will not hold back. “Hey, you mind backing out of our personal space?” he’d tell anyone who he deemed to be far too close to you before wrapping an arm around you and practically absorbing you into his side.

You’d only roll your eyes, heat filling your cheeks as you pinched his side. “Yeowch!” he’d exclaim dramatically but still never backing away from you.

Satoru Gojo also needs a lot of reassurance. He’s not picky on how he receives it as long as he receives it. He needs it. And if he felt he wasn’t getting enough back you’d definitely be hearing about it.

“I can’t believe we went from being madly in love to being just roommates.” he sighed one day, shaking head before placing the back of his hand over his forehead; imitating a damsel in distress. He was leaning against the bathroom door watching from his peripheral as you rolled your eyes, not moving away from in front of the bathroom mirror and into his arms like he had hoped.

“Neither can I… Because that hasn’t happened.” you sighed finishing your skin care before flicking the bathroom light off and squeezing past him, right under the arm that he had placed specifically to block you from leaving.

His pout deepened as he followed behind you like a lost puppy.

“Hasn’t?! As in it could?!” He whined reaching his arm towards you but narrowly missing the back of your shirt (you had sped up at the last second, already having had anticipated his behavior).

“Gojo.”

“That doesn’t work anymore, I’m not sure if you’re talking about me or you now, so you’ll have to be more specific about who you’re talking about!” he scoffed, finally grabbing onto your body before you were able to flop down onto your bed. You let out a whine, giving up and simply allowing him to maneuver your body however he pleased.

Taking your flimsy body as permission, he turned you around to face him, he wrapped his arms tightly around your torso before biting your cheek softly, coaxing a soft hiss from you.

“That’s exactly my point, Toru. We’re married not roommates… Does that not show how madly in love with you I am?” You couldn’t help but coo at him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smiled widely at you, pursing his lips before tightening his already brutal grip on your body.

“Dunno… You’ve only kissed me like two times today. Tax getting high on them or what up? I can pay my fees, ya know?” You rolled your eyes again but a small smile pulled at the corners of your lips. You had definitely kissed him way over two times but you knew that when he got this way there was no other way to soothe him than by giving him what he wants.

“They’ll run you about 450… Each. Sure you got it like that?”

“What about the husband discount?”

“Make it 650.”

“Ugh! You’re an evil little gremlin, aren’t you?”

To nobody’s surprise he got his kisses. Several of them and in quick succession resulting in your face being covered in an abhorrent amount of his spit (his full face smooches are always so unnecessarily messy!) Family discount be damned, he’d pay whatever tariff necessary for your love (not that he ever had to!)

[authortelevision]

you’re mine₊˚⊹♡

words: 3,002 ✦ .ᐟ

♯┆jealous george clarke, blow jobs, degradation, slut shaming, smut

you confess to george that you used to have a fan account about chrismd but when george finds the account himself you realise how possessive george can be and how much he wants you to know you’re only his

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hello hello !! this could technically be a part 2 to jealous george but you can also read it on its own

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You were sitting cross-legged on George’s bed, leaning against the headboard as he stretched out beside you, scrolling through his phone. His legs brushed against yours occasionally, and though it was casual, the closeness reminded you of how much you loved being his.

“I need to tell you something,” you said, your voice hesitant as you picked at a thread on the hem of your sweater.

George glanced up at you, sensing your unease. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, exactly…” You exhaled, cheeks already heating. “It’s just… okay, you have to promise not to get mad.”

He sat up a little straighter, narrowing his eyes. “That’s not a good start. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” you said quickly, clutching a pillow to your chest. “It’s just… it’s something kind of embarrassing. About me. And, um… Chris.”

George’s expression shifted instantly, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. “Chris?” he repeated, his voice just a bit cooler. “What about Chris?”

You winced. “So, in 2020, I, um… I had a fan account for him.”

George blinked, clearly trying to process what you’d just said. And then, he laughed. But it wasn’t his usual easy, full laugh. This one sounded slightly forced, like he was trying to play it off.

“A fan account? For Chris?” he asked, his voice rising incredulously.

“Yes!” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m so embarrassed. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

George didn’t say anything for a moment, and when you peeked up at him, his lips were pressed into a thin line.

“So, what kind of fan account are we talking here?” he asked, a little too casually. “Were you posting thirst traps of him or something?”

“What? No!” you exclaimed, horrified. “It was just, like… appreciation posts! Pictures from his games, funny things he said in his videos, that sort of stuff.”

George let out a short laugh, but there was a tightness in his jaw that you couldn’t miss. “Right. Just a harmless little crush, then?”

“It wasn’t a crush!” you said quickly, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. “It was 2020. I was bored, and Chris just happened to be… entertaining.”

“Entertaining,” George repeated, his tone flat.

You groaned, throwing the pillow at him. “Oh my god, stop making it weird!”

“I’m not the one who made it weird,” he shot back, catching the pillow but holding onto it like he needed something to fidget with. “You’re the one confessing to having a fan account for Chris of all people.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, catching the edge in his voice. “George… are you jealous?”

“Jealous?” he repeated, scoffing. “Of Chris? Don’t be ridiculous.”

But the way he tossed the pillow aside a little too forcefully and crossed his arms said otherwise.

“You are jealous,” you said, a teasing grin breaking across your face despite your embarrassment.

“I’m not jealous,” he insisted, though his gaze flicked away from yours. “It’s just… it’s Chris. The guy who leaves his gym socks all over the flat and takes 45-minute showers. That’s who you thought was worthy of a fan account?”

You laughed, leaning closer to him. “It was years ago, George. I didn’t even know you or him back then.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, “if I’d known, I would’ve made sure to stop it.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. “And how exactly would you have done that?”

His eyes finally met yours, and there was an ounce of something possessive in them. “By making sure you knew there were better options.”

Your breath caught for a moment before you shook your head, laughing softly. “George, it wasn’t that deep. I wasn’t in love with him or anything.”

He huffed, still looking unimpressed. “Good. Because if I have to hear one more time about how Chris is ‘underrated’ or whatever…”

“Oh my god,” you said, groaning dramatically. “I regret telling you this already.”

George’s lips twitched into a smirk, though the jealousy still lingered in his eyes. “You know, I think I should make my own fan account. Post appreciation pictures of myself and see how you like it.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning over to kiss him lightly. “I’d be your biggest fan, George. You know that.”

His smirk softened into a genuine smile as he pulled you closer. “Good. Because I don’t want to compete with Chris for your attention.”

“You’re so weird,” you said, laughing as you settled into his arms.

“And you’re mine,” he murmured, the words warming your cheeks.

Chris might’ve been entertaining once, but sitting there with George, having him kiss all over your face, you couldn’t imagine ever thinking of anyone else. That was until now.

George had been distant all day. Usually, he’d find ways to hover near you, cracking jokes or stealing bites of your food just to make you roll your eyes. But today, he barely said a word. Instead, he spent most of the day holed up in his room or deliberately avoiding you in the flat.

At first, you thought maybe he was just having an off day, everyone had them. But when he brushed past you in the hallway without so much as a glance, it started to feel deliberate.

“George?” you called after him as he walked into his room, shutting the door behind him without a word.

Your patience finally snapped. You marched down the hall, pushed open his door without knocking, and slammed it shut behind you.

“What the hell is your problem?” you demanded, arms crossed as you glared at him.

George was standing by his desk, his back to you, his shoulders stiff. When he finally turned around, there was something sharp in his eyes that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

“You know what’s the problem?” he said, his voice low but brimming with frustration. “You. You’re the problem.”

You blinked, stunned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He stepped closer, his jaw tight. “I found it, by the way.”

“Found what?” you asked, your confusion genuine.

“The account,” he said, his voice cold. “Your fan account. The one you swore was harmless.”

You stared at him, your heart sinking. “Wait—how did you—”

“I looked for it,” he snapped, cutting you off. “And you lied to me. All those posts, all those things you wrote about him, how much you wanted him…” His voice cracked slightly, his frustration boiling over. “And you let him flirt with you, knowing you used to feel that way.”

“George,” you said, shaking your head, “what are you talking about? I told you, it wasn’t like that—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted, his voice louder now. “You wanted to fuck him, didn’t you?” George’s voice was sharp, accusing, the words slicing through the air like a knife.

“Excuse me?” you spoke back, stunned and furious. “That’s not fair, George. I never—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted again, his tone raising, his frustration spilling over. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe you made all those posts about him, said all those things, and didn’t mean it.”

“It was years ago!” you shouted, your voice shaking with anger. “It was a stupid, meaningless thing I did when I was bored and stuck at home. I wasn’t thinking—”

“Yeah, well, I’m thinking about it now,” he shot back, stepping closer. “Thinking about the way he looks at you, the way you let him flirt with you—”

“I don’t let him do anything!” you cut him off, your face hot with frustration. “Chris was just being Chris. I didn’t take it seriously, and neither should you!”

"Oh, come on," George scoffed, shaking his head, his jaw tight. "You're telling me there's nothing left from that ‘stupid crush’? That part of you doesn't like the attention?"

“George what the fuck is wrong with you?”

He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as he exhales, forcefully biting his lip, enough to leave an indent. “Wrong with me? The only thing wrong with me is the fact I thought a relationship with a slut like you would ever work out.”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words slamming into you like a physical blow. A mix of shock and rage surged through you, your body stiffening as the full weight of what he’d just said sank in.

“What the fuck did you just say?” you fought back, your voice low and trembling, your hands curling into fists at your sides.

George’s jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling as he looked at you, his face hard and unreadable. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to take it back, but then his expression hardened again, his voice cutting.

“You heard me.”

“No.” You took a step forward, your anger blazing. “Say it again, George. I dare you.”

He stayed silent, his lips pressing into a thin line as his gaze flicked away from you, like he couldn’t bear to look at the fury in your eyes.

“You’re unbelievable,” you spat, your voice breaking slightly despite your best efforts. “After everything, after all the times I’ve told you how much I care about you, this is what you think of me?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t,” you snapped, cutting him off. “Don’t you fucking dare say you didn’t mean it. You don’t get to throw a word like that at me and act like it’s nothing.”

George finally looked at you, his eyes filled with something raw and painful that made your stomach twist. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice rough.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, George,” you shot back. “You don’t trust me. You don’t believe me when I say I don’t want Chris. And now you’re calling me a slut? What the hell is wrong with you?”

He raked a hand through his hair, frustration radiating off him in waves. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t fucking know! I just—”

“What?” you demanded, stepping even closer. “You just what? Go on, say it.”

His hands clenched at his sides, his voice rising. “I just hate the way he looks at you! The way he talks to you like he’s got a chance, like I’m not even in the fucking picture!”

You stared at him, your anger warring with confusion. “And that’s my fault? You think I encourage him?”

“I don’t know!” George burst out, his voice breaking. “I don’t know what to think anymore! I just—”

His words faltered as he looked at you, his eyes dark and stormy with emotions he didn’t know how to express.

“You just what?” you whispered, your voice quieter now but no less fierce.

He exhaled shakily, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I just— I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you.”

You opened your mouth to respond, a mix of anger and confusion bubbling to the surface, but before you could even form a sentence, George surged forward. His lips crashed against yours, the force of it silencing any protest you might have had.

You froze for a second, startled by the suddenness of it, your mind spinning. But then his hands cupped your face, holding you in place, and the desperation in the kiss pulled you under.

It wasn’t sweet or careful—it was messy and raw, all teeth and tongue as he kissed you like he was trying to prove something. You hesitated, the weight of your unresolved argument hanging heavy, but then his hands slid to your waist, pulling you against him, and you gave in.

Your fingers fisted in the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back, meeting his intensity with your own. It was chaotic, your breaths mingling as you stumbled together, his body pressing into yours until the edge of the bed hit the backs of your knees.

You fell back onto the mattress, George following without hesitation. His weight pinned you down as his lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, finding the soft curve of your neck. He kissed you there, the sensation sharp and hot.

His hands gripped your waist, sliding under your shirt just enough for his fingers to brush your bare skin. Every touch, every kiss felt frantic, like he was trying to erase the fight, the tension, and every trace of doubt you’d left between you.

“George…” you managed, your voice breaking as you tried to catch your breath, your fingers gripping his shoulders.

But he didn’t stop, didn’t let you finish. His lips pressed harder against your neck, his teeth biting down on your skin in a way that made you gasp.

“Don’t,” he muttered against your neck, his voice thick. “Don’t say anything right now.”

And so you didn’t. Instead, you let him keep going, the messy desperation between you spilling over as he kissed you like he needed you to understand exactly what he felt, whether or not he could find the words to say it.

George pinned your wrists to the sides of your head, his eyes blazing with a primal lust. Your arms landed on the soft sheets, your heart racing as he loomed over you, his body casting a shadow across your trembling form.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice thick with passion. "And I'm going to remind you of that."

With that, he took both your wrists in one hand, using the other to rip your shirt open, buttons flying across the room, exposing your breasts. His hands, rough and calloused, cupped your flesh, squeezing and kneading, causing you to arch your back and moan in pleasure.

"Oh, George..." you panted, your nipples hardening under his touch. "Please..."

He leaned down, his lips capturing one of your nipples, sucking and biting gently. His free hand trailed down your stomach, fingers tracing the outline of your underwear, teasing the damp fabric.

"You're so wet for me," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot on your sensitive breasts. "Tell me, who makes you feel like this?"

"You do," you whispered, your voice scratchy. "Only you, George. No one else can make me feel this way."

His hand slipped into your underwear, his fingers finding your throbbing clit, circling it and pressing down. You bucked against his touch, your hips rising off the bed, seeking more of his touch.

"That's right," he growled, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Only I can make you come like this. Only I can fuck you."

As his fingers worked, you felt your orgasm building quicker than usual, a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to consume you. Your body trembled, and you clutched at the sheets, desperate for release.

"Please, George..." you begged, your voice a mere whisper. "Make me come... I’m only yours."

George's fingers quickened their pace, his thumb pressing against your sensitivity. "Come for me, you little slut. Show me how much you want it."

The pleasure became unbearable, and with a cry, you climaxed, your body shaking every feeling of ecstasy washed over you. George's fingers continued their relentless touches, milking every last drop of pleasure from your quivering body.

As your orgasm subsided, George withdrew his hand, leaving you breathless and worthless. He stood at the edge of the bed, his eyes burning with a possessive gleam.

"Fuck, you really are desperate for someone to fuck you," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Now, get on your knees, and show me how much you’re mine."

You didn't hesitate. You wanted to please him, to submit to his every desire. Slowly, you rose to your knees, your eyes locked on his, a silent promise to make him feel good.

George's cock, already hard and straining against his jeans, made your mouth water in desperation. You reached out, your fingers trembling as you unzipped his fly, eager to set it free. As his length sprang forth, you couldn't help but gasp at the sight.

"Suck it," he commanded, his voice rough. "Show me how much of a slut you are for me."

You leaned forward, your lips parting to take him in. His thick cock filled your mouth, and you moaned around it, the taste and feel of him driving you wild. George's hands gripped your hair, guiding your movements, controlling the pace.

"That's it, babygirl," he grunted, his hips thrusting gently as his tugged at your hair laced around his fingers. "Take it all, take me deep into your throat."

You obeyed, your mouth working faster as his commands spur you on, your tongue licking the slit on the top of his head, tasting his salty pre-cum. His hand moved from your hair to cradle your face in his large hand forcing you to look up at him through your eyelashes.

"You're such a good girl," he growled. "Make me come right down your throat."

You paused for a moment to take him out of your mouth letting his cock rest on your tongue. George's breathing became ragged, and you could feel his cock twitching in your mouth, a sure sign he was close to the edge. You wrapped your mouth around him once more, sucking eagerly as he thrusted aggressively into your wet mouth.

With a final, powerful motion, George came, his hot cum flooding your mouth. You swallowed proudly, savouring the taste of him. He held your head in place, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into your willing mouth.

As he withdrew, you looked up at him, your eyes shining with satisfaction as you licked your bottom lip of the last of him. George's face was that of pure love, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"You look so beautiful," he confessed, his voice husky. "You’re mine, you know that, only mine my love."

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a/n: thank you so much to @arthurhillmastermind for all your help on this fic !!

[not-available-for-comment]

Wow I do not like this take at all. It correctly defines popular culture while getting basically everything about it wrong.

Yeah, pop culture is meant to have broad appeal. It doesn’t make you a sophisticate to like it. It also doesn’t make you cringe or mean you have bad taste, and it doesn’t mean that pop culture is inherently poorly constructed.

Pop culture is the Reese’s peanut butter cup of the world. Liking it is not groundbreaking. It’s made to be easily liked. Disliking it may make you the minority but it doesn’t make you more correct or special—it just means your taste diverges from most people’s on the topic of chocolate and peanut butter. If you go to a nice restaurant, you won’t expect to see Reese’s peanut butter cups on the dessert menu—you’d expect the chef to make something themselves, ideally with better ingredients and a more complex flavor profile. If people act like there’s no difference between Chef So-and-So’s chocolate torte with raspberry-thyme coulis and a Reese’s peanut butter cup in terms of quality, they’re either not very sophisticated or just flat out willfully obtuse.

But it’s also wrong to say we can’t talk about pop culture seriously if we want to. Perhaps you didn’t explicitly say it was, OP, but generally people equate bad, vulgar, cringe taste with things not worth spending time or mental energy on, and I’m frankly very strongly against that. Things that are broadly popular are useful on a number of vectors. They can tell us things about what broad swathes of people care about, how viewpoints are changing, what people’s power fantasies and aspirations are. And even if they’re just the equivalent of a silly little piece of candy, they can be well made for what they are. Sweet velvety chocolate against the salt and slight graininess of the peanut butter. Just large enough to feel indulgent—for most people it’s most comfortable to eat in 2-3 bites. Melts on the tongue. Sure, I could’ve probably gotten a full paragraph out of Mx Chef’s chocolate torte, and I only got about 3 sentences out of a Reese’s cup, but that’s not really my point.

My point is that yes, some people do seem overly proud of having a diet exclusively of Reese’s peanut butter cups, and I’m guessing that’s what the OP is addressing. But also Shakespeare was lowbrow pop culture. Liszt was a heartthrob musician. Many of our preeminent women writers of the past were published in the equivalent of Better Homes and Gardens or Real Simple. Not every respected contributor to Western culture has come from pop culture—the guy* who wrote “Ode to a Grecian Urn” was not trying to appeal to the lowbrow everyman—but the distinctions are not as sharp as they’re being made out to be here.

You can and in fact should insist on having serious conversations about people who tried to say serious things about the world and humanity in their art. In her essay collection The Death of Adam, Marilynne Robinson writes** an impassioned call to pursuing art and art criticism that approaches ideas expansively and ambitiously, and she ends with the painful phrase, “I miss civilization, and I want it back.” I felt that plea so strongly when I read it 20 years ago, and I don’t want to squash people who want that too. But I’d really, really caution against the arrogance of assuming that just because you don’t personally enjoy something, or you find it gratingly popular, serious discussion of it is not worthwhile. If you wish to pursue an intellectual life, you don’t have to spend all your time in the mud (to introduce a new metaphor at the eleventh hour) but it’s also unwise to ignore everything that grows from it.

___

*that said, while I adore Keats, I also find him very silly most of the time

**I wish I could quote more of it but I had to really ruthlessly purge my library before my last move and I can’t find my copy anymore.

not to be vulgar but the point of popular culture is to appeal to the largest swathe of people. if you like popular culture you cannot claim to be special! you cannot be literary or high culture or whatever floating signifier of intellectual sophistication you want because those are defined by their exclusion. sorry. just embrace your cringe and bad taste that's vastly more respectable.

[4ranghaes]

bnd 04z x reader [smut, fem!reader, soft dom!leehan, hard dom!taesan, leehan x taesan]

warnings: SMUT!!!!!! MDNI!!!!!!!, use of real names, threesome😛, reader is in established relationship w/ leehan, dom!04z, mostly sub!reader, degradation, blowjobs, cunnilingus, boys kissing, dacryphilia, overstimulation, cum play, unprotected sex, this has EVERYTHING!

23:09 - “leehan stop!” you exclaimed, though doing nothing to help the situation while straddling his lap.

his lips were on your neck, leaving wet kisses and certainly some marks. his big hands were cupping your ass, keeping you firmly on his lap, slightly pushing you forward just enough to grind his hard length against your heat.

“donghyun,” you whined, “we can have sex, i just… let’s go to your bedroom, please!”

leehan just pulled away from your neck, flashing you a teasing smile before pulling your t-shirt up so he had access to your boobs. you whimpered, so, so afraid that one of the members could just stroll in at any moment. you pulled your t-shirt back down, covering leehan’s head with it.

it didn’t deter him, your boyfriend now continuing his assault all over the fat of your boobs spilling out your bra. you closed your eyes, letting out a breathy moan as he massaged one of them in his hand, letting his tongue flick over your nipple of the other.

“s-stop…” you moaned, leehan laughing at the sound.

“so unconvincing, princess,” he responded, a smug smile on his hidden face, “you’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

you whimpered, placing your hand on the back of his head to shove him back between your tits. your eye lids were fluttering between closed and open, between pleasure and making sure no one walks in.

“he’s right,” taesan’s voice suddenly came. your head snapped to the door, gasping loudly as you almost fell off leehan’s lap; his hands moving to save you, his mouth not moving off of marking your boobs. “didn’t realise you two were such sluts, though. good for you.”

“tae– i’m so—” you cut yourself of with a moan as leehan sucked on your nipple. you clamped your lips shut, embarrassed to be making those noises in front of one of leehan’s members. taesan’s eyebrows raised. “i’m so sorry– i’m trying to get him— donghyun stop!”

leehan slowly pulled his head out from under your top, looking at you with an innocent, confused look on his face before offering a small smile to taesan.

“you alright?” he said.

taesan nodded, coming to sit beside the pair of you, stretching his arms up above his head as he clicked his jaw, “yeah, bit tired. woonhak’s being annoying so i came downstairs. this is a lot more entertaining though.”

“right?” leehan smirked, not taking his eyes off you. “want a turn?”

taesan smiled, turning to look at you. he tutted in thought, cocking his head. “i don’t know. i usually prefer the bed, you know? i’m not a slut, like some people.”

you rolled your eyes, feeling frustrated and annoyed at both boys now. you grabbed them both by the ear, dragging them to leehan’s bedroom. taesan’s pleas to let him go fell on deaf ears as leehan just laughed.

“i’m so fucking horny so one of you better do something soon or i’m sorting myself out,” you said, throwing taesan down on the bed. leehan stood behind you with a proud smirk on his face as he looked past you at his friend.

“darling,” leehan spoke, placing his hands on your hips, his mouth right next to your ear, “why don’t you show dongmin-ie all the pretty little marks i just left on you?”

you bit your cheek, suddenly becoming shy as the reality dawned on you of what was about to happen. you pulled your shirt off in one swift motion, leehan beginning to nibble at your neck after you did so. taesan sat up on the bed, resting on his elbows, a smile spreading across his face as he looked at your marked-up boobs, decorated wet with spit. he bit his lip, sitting forward and reaching a hand up your skirt.

“you’re so wet, princess,” taesan said, teasingly using the nickname he’d heard come from leehan’s lips so often, “i guess you like having your tits played with, huh?”

you swallowed, leehan chuckling as he gripped your hair, moving your head in an up and down motion; a forced agree to taesan’s question.

“what about your pussy, hmm?” taesan asked, his big brown eyes glistening up at you in curiosity as his fingers played with the waistband of your panties. you were stood in between his legs now as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“she loves it so much,” leehan drawled, pulling your skirt down to leave you in your soaked panties as both boys smirked, “says she can’t even touch herself anymore, always needs someone else playing with her.”

“is that so?” taesan asked, “wow, you really are a princess, hmm?”

you looked at him shyly, leehan rolling his eyes before agreeing for you again. “why are you being so shy today?! you usually can’t shut up. go on princess, lie down.”

you smiled slightly, laying down on the bed, before suddenly feeling scrutinised under the view of both boys.

“go on, dongmin,” leehan said, motioning to the foot of the bed, “play with her pussy. she’s gonna use her mouth on me like she always does, right princess?”

you nodded, still too shy to say much in front of taesan. though he was now kneeling in front of your open legs, spreading your thighs to expose the visible wet patch of your panties to him.

you fought against his grip, trying to close your thighs again as taesan’s hold suddenly strengthened, slamming your thighs to the bed. he tutted, “there’s no need to be so shy, princess. i’ve heard all of your noises before. i’m right there, you know?”

he pointed up to the ceiling, as you swallowed thickly. he was right, and you’d never thought of it before.

“i hear all your moans for your precious donghyun-ie,” he teased, leaning forward, his lips ghosting over yours as his hot breath fanned over your mouth, “and your sobs? oh god, your noises are so beautiful, y/n.”

a smile started growing on your face before you bit your lip, leehan was stroking your hair as he sat beside your upper body, both of you staring down at taesan as he moved between your legs. he was laying on his stomach, legs off the end of the bed as he placed soft, slow kisses to your inner thighs, still held down by his strong grasp.

you shivered, mouth falling open to let out shaky breaths. leehan smiled down at you, kissing your forehead gently, “you like that, princess? you like dongmin-ie’s mouth?”

you nodded quickly, leehan’s hand intertwining with yours as he used his other hand to take off his clothes. he was left in his boxers, his cock head poking out the top of the tenting material. you bit your lip, letting go of his hand to brush lightly over his covered cock. he smiled down at you with a loving gaze.

taesan stole your attention quickly, dragging your panties down your legs and ripping them off, keeping them balled up in his hand as he leaned down, blowing cold air onto your cunt.

you gasped, bucking your hips as taesan smirked at you. he leaned forward, kissing the skin before using his tongue to circle your clit. you whined out a moan, leehan laughing at your pretty noises.

“can you help me out, princess?” leehan cooed, his hand resting atop your head as he finally rid himself of his boxers. you watched taesan’s eyes, flicking up quickly to see his friend’s cock before returning to the task at hand.

you nodded desperately at seeing your boyfriend’s length. he straddled your body, your hands holding onto his thighs as you took his thick length in your mouth. leehan was always gentle, rarely breaking away from being a soft dom. you were unequivocally his princess, so even as he thrust into your mouth, he made sure to go slowly, checking your eyes to see for any pain or discomfort.

you, on the other hand, loved it. watching leehan’s face above you, screwing up in pleasure, eyes rolling back, sweating, moaning; having the view of his cock in your mouth and his face was everything you could dream of, and it wasn’t often you chose this position. not ever, in fact; but when taesan was abusing your clit so badly that you can’t concentrate on your boyfriend’s cock for moaning, leehan knew exactly the position he wanted.

leehan’s hands gripped onto the headboard, watching your eyes roll back in your hand, your tongue flattening around the underside of his cock as you paid more attention to taesan’s mouth. leehan’s heart sped up, biting his lip as he stroked your hair.

“is he making you feel good, darling?” leehan cooed, tears lining your eyes as you nodded, “doing so well for both of us.”

taesan chuckled behind leehan, “such a slut, isn’t she? she’s leaking all over the bed.”

“she’s never had two at once,” leehan commented, your eyes locked as he looked at you lovingly, “but you’re right, she’s a cockslut, i’m sure she’s loving it. isn’t that right, princess?”

you nodded, swallowing around leehan’s cock as he groaned. “you should see her face, dongmin. she looks wrecked.”

taesan laughed evilly, feeling your cunt tighten around his fingers, “come on, princess. cum all over my mouth.”

leehan smiled, watching with raised eyebrows and an open mouth in expectation as your body writhed round the bed, moans vibrating against his cock as you rode out your orgasm against taesan’s tongue.

“good girl,” leehan smiled, his hands cupping your jaw as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, removing himself from your body. taesan’s hands were a bruising grip on your hips, his teasing smirk being revealed to you as you were left panting on the bed.

you sat up, crawling to taesan. his big lips were swollen, your juices around his mouth as he smirked, sizing you up. you smiled, placing a hand on the back of his head and pulling him in for a kiss. his eyes darted to leehan quickly as you were pulling him towards you, his friend smiling at the two of you, sitting on the bed behind you; taesan letting himself be taken by you and your soft lips. he was moaning into the kiss, your tongues swirling around, spit and remainders of your cum dripping down both of your chins.

he pulled away, both of you panting as you bit your lip. “what?” you asked, taesan shaking his head in response. your boyfriend’s hand on your waist caught your attention, turning round with a smile on your face to do the same to him.

leehan groaned into the kiss, the familiar feeling of your lips on his was heaven to him. taesan felt himself getting harder as he watched, biting his lip to conceal the feeling. he shouldn’t feel like that from hearing his friend moan.

“go on then,” you said, breathless as you wiped your mouth after pulling away from leehan. the boys looked at you confused as you smiled, placing your hand on the back of both of their necks. “this is a threesome isn’t it?” you giggled, whispering your words as if they were a dirty secret.

taesan furrowed his eyebrows even more, looking at you panicked before looking at leehan who had his eyebrows raised. he looked back to you, who was now pouting at him. “please, taesannie? for me?”

the boy swallowed thickly, biting his lip and leaning into the kiss. you smirked, watching your boyfriend moan once again as his lips were bitten and sucked on by his friend. taesan’s hand flew to his hardened length, palming it harshly. you smiled.

“sannie?” you cooed, playing with the hair at the base of his neck. he pulled away, breathless and looking wrecked beyond belief. a string of saliva connected their swollen lips, “can i use your cock?”

he groaned, nodding desperately as he laid your body down, chasing your lips as he went. leehan helped remove his clothes, first his t-shirt, then his sweatpants, taesan beginning to pull off his boxers without any encouragement.

you pulled away from his lips, the boy sat up on his knees in between your legs. leehan joined you as you laid at the head of the bed, both of you staring at taesan’s cock with open mouths.

“what?” he asked, breathlessly.

you bit your lip, as leehan began nodding. you swallowed, “just- big. yeah.”

he gave a confused glance between you, jerking himself off a couple times as his cock got even harder. leehan chuckled, leaning forward to kiss at your neck as taesan lined his cock up with your entrance.

“wait— condom?” you asked, sitting up quickly, leehan reaching into the bedside table and grabbing one out the box without even replying.

taesan reached out to grab the unwrapped latex, but leehan just smiled at him. holding the edges of the condom, he rolled it onto his friend’s cock. taesan’s head fell back, a long groan falling from his lips. before he could process what had just happened, he lined his cock up with your entrance and pushed the tip inside. you hissed as your back arched, taesan moaning as your tight walls clenched around him, squeezing his head, inviting him in even more.

his eyes were hooded as he pushed in inch by inch, looking up to lock eyes with leehan. the younger boy just smiled at him, knowing the exact feeling of your cunt around his cock, he could almost feel it like a phantom around his exposed length. taesan’s mouth hung open as he finally bottomed out, leehan chuckling before being cut off as you moved your hand to wrap around the base of his dick, moans spilling out of his mouth instead as you quickly started jerking him off, using the precum on his tip as lube.

taesan smirked, his eyeline flitting down to your hand on his friend’s cock. he swallowed, his dick throbbing at the whole experience.

“can i move?” he breathed, looking back to your face as you nodded, stilling your hand on leehan for a moment as taesan pulled his hips out until only the tip remained, smashing his hips back in, his balls slapping against your ass as he created a fast paced rhythm immediately.

leehan’s eyes were stuck on where your bodies met, your wetness spilling out, visible on your folds and the base of taesan’s cock. he’d had the fantasy of seeing you be fucked by someone else for so long, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. he reached his hand down slowly, his finger coming into contact with your clit, beginning to rub circles slowly. your back arched, moaning at the sudden sensation. taesan smiled, longing to lean down and kiss you, inhale the moans you were producing; but leehan’s body was in the way.

oh fuck it.

continuing his brutal pace on your hole, he grabbed leehan’s face with one hand, pulling him forward and crashing his lips to the other boy’s. you opened your eyes, laughing slightly at the new development as both boys started moaning into the kiss. you reached down, grabbing leehan’s cock once again and starting to jerk him off, trying to match the pace taesan held inside you.

all three of you were squirming bodies, moaning messes. but taesan broke first.

“i— i’m gonna cum,” he groaned, his hand gripping harshly on leehan’s long blonde hair. he let go suddenly, gripping onto your hips as he drove into you, speeding up to chase his orgasm. your hand moved to tease your boyfriend’s balls, his tip, not even attempting to keep the pace with taesan’s hips anymore. leehan was next, taesan a panting mess over your body as he looked up in interest at his friend, hips jerking and eyes squeezed shut, a hand gripping the bed sheets, the other on your thigh as he came all over your body.

“ugh– god! y/n, so fucking good,” he swore, your hand speeding up to drive him over the edge of overstimulation as you knew he liked, “fuck! taesan!”

you smirked, watching taesan’s shocked face as he took in the cum all over your naked body and the fresh spurts still leaking from his friend’s tip. you finally stopped your movement, leehan left panting over your body as taesan sighed.

“princess hasn’t cum yet, leehan-ie,” he pouted, “we can’t leave her out, right?”

leehan smirked, nodding along with a pout, “absolutely not. not when she’s been so good for us.”

he ushered taesan out the way, lining his cock up with your entrance, already hardening again at the view of your spent body and swollen, abused pussy. he bottomed out all in one, leaving you squirming and gasping as leehan moaned.

taesan smirked, holding your head in his lap as he let leehan go to town on your body in the way he’d become so accustomed to over the course of your relationship. his fingers worked on your clit as his cock hit deep inside of you, your head thrashing about on taesan’s lap, your hands gripping his tightly as he cooed down at you.

“come on, princess, you can take it,” he said, stroking your face gently, “such a cockslut, having two dicks in one night. you fucking love it.”

you were panting, your body hurtling towards an orgasm. suddenly, you watched as taesan leaned forward and gathered leehan’s cum on his fingers from the pool on your stomach, shoving his soaked fingers past your lips as you continued moaning around them, swallowing as best you could.

“good girl,” leehan murmured, leaning forward and kissing your collarbone, “gonna cum for me, yeah? go on, darling.”

leehan’s fingers worked quickly on your clit, the stimulation driving you to orgasm as the two boys held your body down, moans flying out past taesan’s fingers, tears spilling out your eyes at all the feelings all over your body. one touch felt like a million needle pricks, your body on fire with stimulation and need.

finally, taesan removed his fingers from your mouth, and leehan removed his cock from your leaking hole, your body limp against the mattress. taesan quickly left to go to the bathroom, gathering tissues and a damp cloth as leehan leaned forward, kissing your lips gently.

“hey beautiful,” he whispered, kissing your nose softly as you whined up at him, your body so spent you didn’t know if you could move, “did so good for us. come on, we’ll clean you up and then we can cuddle.”

taesan smiled, almost awkwardly, as he wiped up your juices and leehan’s cum from your body, offering some tissues to his friend too. leehan chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“don’t be weird,” he said, brushing taesan’s hair out his eyes, “you want to cuddle with us too?”

you smiled up at him as he abandoned the damp cloth on the bedside table. he sighed, laying down next to you without answering. you snuggled into his body, leehan laughing, “i guess that’s a yes then.”

taesan sighed, eyes closing as leehan organised the duvet over your bodies, “only if i can join again.”

[ye4gerism]

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒, 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

word count 3.7k

content warning grief, mentions of death and attempted suicide, slight marital woes, frustration, curly’s mom living up to her “boy mom” title toward the end, talks about family planning (there’s not baby in this fic dw😭), black reader friendly

author’s note hi. again, thank you for the engagement on good luck, captain. this is a follow-up with post-crash curly and you both deal with the aftermath. this isn’t beta read and i’m not a professional in anything medical or legal (theatre major😓), as always, i’m open to feedback. i based this version of curly on ladonb.kokosa’s post-mouthwashing au! my requests are open as well - swing by!

synopsis set after good luck, captain! you didn’t think you’d live a life without your husband but you were and, slowly but surely, you were inching towards a new normal. And then your phone rings.

You remember the day they told you he wasn't coming home. The Pony Express first played it off as the mission being extended. And then they told you the Tuplar was missing and that the company was working their hardest to save them.

A year after their initial excuse of an extended mission, the Pony Express admitted the Tuplar was stranded 147 days into its journey. The company put the pieces together days after a report from the ship about a crash and realized it might be too late to save the crew as their oxygen was long gone.

You lost him. There wasn't even a hole in your heart but in your stomach and you felt like you were going to eat yourself alive. Your husband's body was somewhere in Space. Your Curly was gone. You were so mad at him before he left. His saddened face mixed with defensiveness was the last thing you saw. You didn't even say bye.

You don't remember how you got home. The stupid pony company called all of you - Curly's mom, Swansea's daughters, Daisuke's mother - to their headquarters under the impression that they had found them. Instead, you were sunken to your knees, unable to function.

Curly's mom stayed with you, abandoning Colorado for California. She spent every day by your side - trying to feed you on your couch as you couldn't bring yourself to sleep in the bed you shared with him. She was there to stop you from smashing every glass thing in your home from picture frames to the glass coffee table in your living room. She stopped you from ending your life when you couldn't bear to not wake up without Curly anymore.

"You're the only thing I have left of him," she told you. "You're like a daughter now. My responsibility."

Another year passed by - another anniversary, another birthday, another day he was supposed to be home. You were slightly better now, still living in your husband's home. You started going back to work. You were getting ready to go one morning when you received a call from a number you didn't recognize.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mrs. Curly?"

You hadn't used that name since he died. "This...this is she."

Cedars-Sinai had a body. They were in and out of consciousness but showed life and the hospital wanted to get this person in the best shape possible and send them back home. They said you were a person of interest.

So you went.

Was it bad that you were hoping it wasn't him? What if it was that boy, Daisuke? He wasn't a kid but he was still so young and full of life. You noticed him before you sort of saw Curly off. You remember his mom and how devastated she was when you all heard the news.

When you arrived at the hospital, you were immediately met with authorities. Before you could move any further, some investigators asked you to follow them into an empty examination room.

"The Tuplar was brought back here and we've had it for a while as you've heard," they started. "Everyone aboard is dead except one - the body you were called about. They didn't have a uniform on like the rest of the crew."

"Why are you telling just me this? Shouldn't there be other people hearing this news?" You hesitantly step back.

"We're hoping that body belongs to your husband. The medical side of this investigation is positive it’s him.”

They go on to explain what they think happened. All signs pointed to Jimmy, who seemed to be the only one who shot himself. They were still trying to piece together if he indirectly or directly murdered everyone else but it was clear he put your husband in the cryopod they found him in.

"We think the crash the freighter company caught wind of was the start of all of this. Your husband probably tried to stop the Tuplar from crashing," one of the investigators continued.

"Is he…okay? Can I see him?" Fuck Jimmy and fuck that ship.

The investigators go silent and look at each other, realizing you haven’t seen him yet. You start to grow impatient. "Can I see him?” you repeat.

"Please get you and your husband a lawyer. You'll need one. We're a call away if you both need any help." They slide you a contact card, leaving you confused.

"Where are you going?!" You follow them out of the examination room. You look down the hallway and decide that the investigators are no help and you decide to ask the medical personnel crowding the hall. You tap the back of a nurse. "Where is my husband? He’s Captain Grant Curly of the Tuplar." The nurse’s mouth twists in confusion but when your words settle she gives you the guiltiest look ever.

This continues as you move through the sea of so-called experts. You finally reach a room and you know it's him when two more nurses emerge for the room with fear-stricken faces. You're not so sure anymore if you want to go in there. The world around you goes silent; you're not sure if everyone around you knows you’re the Captain's wife or if you were used to tuning everything out by now.

You take a brave step and enter.

And immediately, you felt that hole growing in your stomach again.

One look at him and you were stumbling back. You fell on your rear, hand over your mouth, unable to control your tears or your screams. Finally, everyone in the hallway wanted to do their jobs.

Most days are awkward. The Curly now isn't the Curly you met years ago in London. He was quieter and less trusting of others. But who could really blame him?

Another year in - no anniversary date, no birthday, but he was here...and at the same time, he wasn't.

The investigation was adamant on their theory that Jimmy was the root of it all - the crash, your husband's burns, the deaths. It was something seeing random members of Jimmy's family coming out to defend him. The way he was so attached to Curly, you thought he didn't have any relatives.

His mom would get in T.V. and bawl her eyes out. She'd go on and on about how he was a sweet boy, that he was bullied growing up and it's hard for him to trust others. She'd talk about how Jimmy wouldn't intentionally hurt Curly and that the latter was his "'bestest' friend in the “whole entire world” so that means he wouldn’t hurt his best friend on purpose. She said Jimmy was troubled. That you could agree with but not in the same sense.

With your husband not being as talkative and responsive as he used to be, there was a long way to go before gaining a full understanding of what had happened and why. They had to get him to gesture for responses. Sometimes they couldn't get anything out of him. The whole situation was complicated on its own and it didn’t help that his voice was taken from him.

You wondered if he was mad at you. Your last conversation wasn't your proudest moment. Yes, he couldn’t speak but he wouldn’t look you in the eye or sometimes he’d turn his head slightly when you tried interacting with him.

Or maybe he was cold to everyone. His mom pretty much lived in your home now and he wasn't as responsive to her either. However, you remember all the times she complained about you, and before the mission, he had plans to confront her about it.

He was on a new diet. His doctors encouraged him to have everything blended to start and a lot of nutrients to help him with his health. You often were the one to feed him.

Some days he was willing. Tonight he was stubborn.

"Please. Please eat this," you begged. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and "snack time" were either the worst or best times of your day. He turned his head away and then his body the more you begged. The last straw was when he moved what was left of his arm slightly knocking the eating utensil back onto you and on your clothes.

He realizes what he’s done and looks over at you to see your fuming face.

You take a deep breath trying to hold yourself but you can't. You both wrote vows to each other, put on rings, and lived as a married couple for years. You were helping him when it could be some random fresh-of-school nurse who knew nothing about him.

"I know it's hard being you these days. Hard not having much autonomy, hard not having a voice but sometimes it's hard being your wife and it's been like that for years." You pick the spoon up off of you and throw it on the hospital bed table.

"Even when you weren't..." you struggle to find the words to describe the state he's in, "Even when you weren't you now, it was hard being your wife. With your mom letting me know I didn't deserve you, with your extreme obliviousness, and fucking Jimmy fucking everything up per fucking usual."

For once, he was focused on you, tracking how your hands frustratingly danced with the words coming out of your mouth. "So, fuck me for trying right? Fuck me for waiting, fuck me for giving up my dream for us, fuck me for staying."

For extra effect, you get up pushing your chair a little too far back, that it falls. You notice him wince, how his shoulders slightly jump. "Fuck me! Fuck it all, Grant!" You finish off. You storm off into the hallway completely done with all of this.

You often asked yourself if you were ever making the right choice. He had nurses and doctors - people who knew how to take care of him.

"You're doing the right thing by sticking beside him," his doctor told you once. “He’s more responsive when you’re around. You’re helping him adjust.”

The guilt settled in. You were frustrated. You didn’t need to yell at him like that. You close your eyes and decide to go back into his room. You can't give up on him.

"Curly, baby?"

He's still sitting up, head hanging low now. You pick up the chair and the spoon off the table. “I…I didn't mean to lash out at you. I apologize for doing so.” You sit down and take a deep breath. “I just feel like such a failure. I let you get on that fucking ship and I let you get on with that…that…”

Jimmy wasn’t a man but he wasn’t a little boy either. He was genuinely miserable but yet so immature.

“And when you don’t eat, I feel like I’m doing something wrong. I want you to get better and I want to do better by you. Please," you beg.

You scoop up some blended broccoli and for the first time that day, he eats.

Another 365 days. You plan your anniversary dinner at the hospital with hospital cafeteria food, he's able to have a bit of birthday cake, and slowly, he's redefining himself.

The past year was full of constant hospital visits; your husband's doctor wanted specialists to give him skin grafts so he could at least feel and look more human than before - a statement you didn't like hearing. You always felt like everyone looked at him as some bizarre yet groundbreaking science project. For fuck sake, he and his crew were targeted and he was hurt trying to save their lives.

Curly had gotten sick from an infection he likely developed from his time in the cryopod to his return back to Earth. Despite being treated like a textbook study, he was well enough to come home for a little bit before the start of this current year.

You started the year by looking into different hand and leg prosthetics. You were only able to afford mechanical hook hands and legs for the first go but hopefully, this lawsuit against Pony Express will bring you enough to buy the robotic hands and legs he was eyeing.

He spent time between your home and the hospital after the first few skin graft procedures and he was fairing better in the hospital compared to home. You were bummed when you agreed to have him live full time in a hospital but you came to terms that something like this took a village. You hated his doctor, the nurses, and every other "specialist" who treated him like he wasn't human but they knew what they were doing. He just needed someone who still saw his human side and had the power to defend him - you.

When you weren't in court or with a lawyer or taking time to yourself at home, you were here with him. You told him about your week, complained about your concerns, and sometimes you'd sit in silence.

His newest and biggest milestone was his voice box. It took a while, and multiple ridiculous accents and dialects, to adjust but he finally spoke when the voice specialists you both worked with could give him an Australian accent.

"Say something," his coach encouraged, "I really think this might be the one."

Curly looks at you first, offering you his right mechanical hand. You look at it and for once you aren't reluctant and you hold it. You remember the first time he held your elbow and then your wrist the time you met. You remember how it made you feel; you were drinking at that pub but not feel more freeing than how he touched you that first night.

You felt that again. It was still there.

"I love you," he says. His voice is definitely from Down Under and it sounds a little electronically fried but your Curly had his voice again. You try to contain yourself. You didn't want to make him feel bad by crying. Your free hand finds itself on top of his and you pull it up to your lips.

"I love you too, Captain."

So the years keep passing and he gets better every day. Less time in the hospital and more time trying to beat him in a race. Curly loves to run; it's all he does. Every day he runs twice: once early in the morning and again before dinner. You've never woken up

to him beside you but to the sound of him returning and the feel of him rubbing his forehead against yours.

Oh, and he’s gotten back into skiing. At least once in a few you both visit Colorado and you watch him do his little snow sports. Coming from California, you didn’t really get it but you loved seeing how his eye lit up once he met you at the end.

He's eating solids. You have enough money for the hands he wanted but somehow you can't fathom not being able to help him eat. Sitting in the dining room was when you felt most intimate with him. It was just the two of you and when you felt the most vulnerable. However, you wanted the best for him and you wanted him to grow. So…maybe they’ll be a Christmas gift later? You can’t decide.

The investigation settled when your husband could finally tell his story from the layoff news to Jimmy's multiple violations. The Pony Express chose to settle rather than fight it out of court. Your lawyers wanted to go after Jimmy’s family next but as much as you wanted to ruin him, you found it wasn’t worth it. Jimmy died and he never got to have what you have. He could burn in Hell ten times over.

So the saga was coming to an end; the news found a different story to report on, Curly was home and was getting better and stronger, and you both found your rhythm again.

And his mom was returning back to the woman you knew before your husband's return.

She comes over one night for dinner. "So, now that things are settled...can I make the grandkid joke?" she starts. Mrs. Former Curly is the only one laughing and she knows it.

It was like oxygen had just been sucked out of the planet. You've lost your appetite. "Excuse me. I'm just going to get some air." You kiss your husband's forehead, trying to let him know you are fine. Him feeling guilty about all of this would break your heart. It really wasn't his fault.

The cold, rough feel of cement on the stairs brought a shiver to your spine but it became comfortable. You pull your knees up to your chest and stare out into the street.

"And see here-" Curly's standing in the middle of the street. "Our kid is going to draw little flowers and stars and stick figures of our family and neighborhood."

"Grant, please get out of the street," you yell out to him. He complies and comes over wrapping his arms around your waist. "Why would I need a kid if I have you around?" you joke.

"Well, Mrs. Serious, I need a mini-me to share my crazy, hopeful ideas with right? To give you some space," he jokes back.

You both only really wanted one. If you had more, fine - but you only were prepped for one child.

You hold his face before pulling him in for a kiss.

"You think she'll have your hair and my eyes?" he asks once you pull away. You raise an eyebrow. "What makes you think we'll have a girl?"

He has the hugest grin on his face. "Just a feeling. We're definitely girl parents!"

What the hell happened? If you only nagged him harder about working somewhere else or if he didn't pick up that phone call or if Jimmy could hold on his own.

What if you never met him? Told him to fuck off in London? You would meet some mediocre guy here in the States and convince yourself that he was your soulmate and you'd have the little girl you wondered about often running around your home.

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel a brush of air and Curly is getting down to sit next to you. He stares out into the street and it settles for him too. You both sit in silence.

He breaks it first. “I told her I’d check on you and once you’re settled, I’ll go back and kick her out. That was really uncalled for.”

You follow up. "It's not your fault, you know? Everything else, I mean. Not what your mom said.”

"I should have listened to you. I shouldn't have settled with Pony Express or Jimmy or how I viewed the world," he answers. "Imagine how different our lives would be."

"You have a heart of gold and unfortunately, you see the good in everyone even when you shouldn't. I know you feel so much guilt about...you know, Jimmy and what happened on the Tuplar. But you learned," You look over at him before placing a hand on his back. "Next time, you'll be more responsible."

You move closer to him and start rubbing his back slowly. He doesn't say anything back, so you change the subject.

"How do I tell your mom I don't want kids anymore? It's something that just can't happen and I accept that."

He doesn't say anything but hums, telling you that he's thinking. "Are you sure? That room is empty other than the stuff I left in there,” he finally says.

When you first moved in, Curly began to buy things that reminded him of the little girl you were yet to have and put them in the room you reserved for your first child. You thought he was insane but sure, whatever makes you feel prepped.

"You clearly still want it if you haven't cleared the room," he says.

You hang your head. "When I thought you died, I considered other options: adoption, surrogacy, insemination. People told me to look into that stuff… to keep the home full, they said. But I think where we are right now, we can put our wants aside. Maybe for good." You move your hand from his back to his knee. "I need to fix us first. Make sure we're okay...and that's going to take a long time."

He's still looking out into the street.

"Baby," you quietly say to him, "A kid isn't going to fix us, I'm really really sorry. I have to make sure you’re at your best and moreover, I can't raise a child when I'm not happy. It'll take us a long time to pick up where we left off."

"I don't make you happy?" You can see the sadness in his eye and you feel that large hole in your stomach ready to eat you up.

Jimmy, even in death, got what he wanted. The confusion and hurt that he tried to inflict on your relationship finally found you both.

"You make me happy, Grant. You'll always make me happy. I'm so glad you still love me because I always loved you, even when I thought you were gone for good," you clarify. You gently hold his jaw and have him look at you. "I'm just not happy with what's happened to us. When they first told me I lost you, I thought I was going to die. And those days when you came back...and the fight to keep you alive and to keep you with me..." your voice trails off.

You stay frozen in this position before you feel him wrapping one arm around your waist, being you as close as you can be to him. "Okay," is all he can manage to say. It was filled with so much weight yet understanding.

"You conquered the Tuplar and we can conquer this," you quietly to him.

For once, neither of you knew what this entailed but you also know that when his co-pilot would crash their ship, he didn't know he'd find his way home and you both didn't know that you'd be sitting outside like this. But you had your faith and hope in each other.

There isn't much to fear.

[httpsdana]

Hello I have a request!

I hope it’s not too confusing and not too plain

Sorry my first time requesting

I like your fics a lot

So…

It is where reader is friends with Cubarsi and one of her friends likes him. reader likes Pau but doesn’t tell anyone that she likes him. the other friend that likes Pau tells people and thinks Pau likes her and is going to ask her out.

reader gets rlly upset and is already tackling with depression and knowing abt this makes her rlly sad. also if you can add how the girl asks you ask Cubarsi if he likes her. this makes reader so upset. but then Pau sees her upset so he tries to comfort her and confesses he likes reader.

(btw Cubarsi and reader like msg everyday and stuff)

also if you can’t do this or it’s a bit confusing im so sorry. im having this issue irl and wna cry

I am reading over this and it is very confusing very soory

In the Quiet Spaces Between Us~Pau Cubarsi

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

・❥・a/n: I really hope this is what you asked for 🙏🏻

She wasn't sure when her friendship with Pau had shifted into something more—when the late-night texts and easy conversations began carrying a weight that made her heart ache.

Maybe it was the way he smiled at her, soft and unguarded, or the way his texts always seemed to brighten her darkest days. Whatever it was, y/n had fallen for him, and the realization had been as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

But she never told anyone. Not Pau, and certainly not her friend María, who recently announced her crush on him with unbridled enthusiasm.

“I think Pau likes me,” María said one evening as you both sat in a café. Her tone was light, but the certainty in her voice cut through y/n like a blade.

She forced a weak smile. “Why do you think that?”

María shrugged, swirling her straw in her iced coffee. “He’s always looking at me during group hangouts. And the other day, he laughed at one of my jokes even though it wasn’t that funny. That has to mean something, right?”

y/n laughed nervously, clutching her own drink like it was a lifeline. “Maybe he just thought it was funny.”

María grinned, oblivious to the storm brewing inside y/n. “No way. I’ve got a feeling about this. I think he’s going to ask me out soon.”

The words made her stomach twist painfully, but she swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. “Maybe.” she murmured

That night, Pau texted y/n, just like he always did.

Pau: “How was your day?”

y/n: “It was okay. You?”

Pau: “Long, but better now that I’m talking to you.”

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, her chest tightening at his words.

Did he mean it the way she wanted him to? Or was this just his way of being a good friend?

y/n: “That’s sweet of you to say.”

Pau: “It’s true. I’d go crazy without our chats.”

She stared at the screen, her heart aching.

If only he knew how much she wished those words carried more meaning.

A few days later, María cornered y/n after a group hangout, her face glowing with excitement. “Hey,” she said, her voice practically buzzing. “I need a favor.”

“What’s up?” she asked, already wary of the look in her eyes.

“Can you ask Pau if he likes me?”

Her words hit her like a punch to the gut. “What?”

María laughed, as though it were the most natural request in the world. “You’re closer to him than I am. He won’t suspect anything if you ask casually.”

y/n felt her mouth go dry. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Oh, come on,” María pressed, her grin faltering. “Please? I really think he likes me, but I just want to be sure before I make a move.”

y/n felt like the ground was crumbling beneath her. How could she not see how much this was hurting her?

Her words were the final straw. y/n mumbled an excuse and left the conversation, retreating to the bathroom where she locked the door behind her. Tears burned her eyes as she leaned against the sink, her chest heaving with silent sobs. It felt like everything was crumbling. Her feelings for Pau and her friendship with María were all colliding, leaving her gasping for air.

When she finally emerged, her eyes red and puffy, she avoided everyone and went straight home. She didn’t even check her phone, ignoring the notifications piling up from Pau.

The next morning, a knock at her door startled y/n. Groggily, she pulled herseld out of bed and shuffled to the door, opening it to find Pau standing there.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft but laced with concern. “Are you okay? You didn’t reply to my texts last night.”

She blinked at him, her heart aching at the sight of his worried expression. “I’m fine,” she lied.

“No, you’re not,” Pau said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “What’s going on? Did I do something?”

y/n shook her head, avoiding his gaze. “you did nothing wrong. I’m just tired.”

He didn’t speak for a moment, and the silence stretched uncomfortably. Then he said, “Is this about María?”

Her head snapped up, her heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

“She’s been dropping hints lately,” Pau said, his voice careful. “About… us.”

y/n swallowed hard, her throat dry as she expected him to tell her he likes María. “And?”

“And I don’t feel that way about her,” he said simply, his gaze steady on hers.

Relief flooded through her, but it was quickly followed by a wave of guilt. “She really likes you,” she said quietly.

“I know,” Pau said, his voice softening. “But I can’t pretend to feel something I don’t.”

Her hands trembled in her lap, and she clenched them into fists to stop the shaking. “do you like someone else?”

Pau hesitated, his eyes searching hers. “Do you really want to know?”

She nodded, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst.

He reached out, his hand brushing against hers. “I like you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The words didn’t register at first. She stared at him, stunned. “What?”

“I like you,” he repeated, his tone firmer this time. “I have for a while now. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Tears filled her eyes, and she shook her head. “But why? I’m… I’m a mess, Pau. I’m not like María. I’m not—”

“Stop,” he said, cutting her off. He reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “You don’t have to be anyone else. You’re enough, just the way you are. And I don’t care what you think about yourself—I see someone strong, kind, and beautiful.”

His words broke through the walls she'd built around her heart, and a sob escaped her lips. “I thought I was going to lose you,” she whispered.

“You’re not losing me,” Pau said, his voice steady. “Not now, not ever.”

He pulled her into his arms, holding her as she cried. His embrace was warm and safe, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the darkness in her mind began to lift.

[daizedndconfused]

You wouldn't happen to be open to doing a cole x reader where they are asked by wu to train the ninja (because there extremely flexible and skilled) and they end up beating all of them without using many weapons would you??? Mehehehe I love your writing and cole is so Under Appreciated (people should give him so more love!!) and you portray his character so well thank you thank you :3

new girl

a/n - hi lovely!! tysm for the request and kind words hello?!! also loved this request we love us a strong girl hahaha i kinda drew some inspo from our icon ty lee. this lowkey ended up being longer than i thought but SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG SOME RANDOM SICKNESS WAS KICKING MY ASS ALL WEEK??? but we’re getting better now hahaha (also totally agree give my boy cole some love he deserves it) anyways enjoy i hope i did your vision some justice honestly if you want me to make a pt 2 i sooo can with some more one on one moments

characters - cole x reader

type - fluff!!

warnings - just some mild violence in the form of sparring

synopsis - the ninja a relying too much on their elemental powers and master wu needs some help reminding them of what’s really important who better to teach them than you??

“Breathe,” your mother reminded you gently.

Easy for her to say, she wasn’t the one suspended in a middle-split between two rocks over a stream. Regardless, you did as she asked, feeling the air move in and out of your lungs and the sweat forming on your temple.

“The key is concentration–balance,” her voice came from the bank to your right.

Most of what she said you already knew having been doing this for years, but you didn’t mind.

In and out your breaths went, eyes closed, relying only on your hearing until you felt your mother’s presence hovering next to you.

Peaking your eyes open, she stood on a nearby rock smiling down at you.

“Very good,” she nodded, offering you a hand to help you up.

“Thank you,” you exhaled, stretching out your legs a bit after so long in your previous position.

Your mother smoothed your hair back before leading you across the stream and back onto the land where you promptly shoved on your shoes.

The two of you chatted beneath the warm sun and cool breeze all the way back to your house. Though even before entering, you heard voices coming from within.

You shared a look of confusion with your mother.

That was odd, your father should be the only one home at the moment.

You gently pushed the door open and followed the voices to your living room where you saw your father in a deep conversation with an older man.

“Wu!” Your mother chirped, rounding you to greet the stranger.

The old’s eyes crinkled as he smiled beneath his long wispy white beard. Your mother bowed slightly as a sign of respect, and you thought it only best to do the same.

Eventually, you all sat around the living room, each nursing a steaming cup of tea.

“What do we owe this visit?” Your mother asked kindly. Apparently your parents and Master Wu went way back. They learned all they knew from the man himself, which then trickled down to you.

Wu took a sip of tea before answering. “I wish to offer your daughter a job.”

All eyes moved to you.

A job? What kind of job?

Your back straightened slightly at all the attention. “Sir?”

Wu sighed wearily, “I have realized I may need more help than I currently have. Upon opening a tea shop, I have less and less time to teach my students.” He swirled his tea twice before his eyes set upon you. “Would you be open to helping out?”

“Oh, uh… your students are?” You trailed off.

“The ninja, dear,” your mother filled in gently.

Oh. The ninja? What could you possibly teach the ninja? Sure, martial arts was nothing new, and yeah you were trained in combat thanks to your father, but they had elemental powers for heaven's sake.

“I’m not sure how much help I could be,” you answered sheepishly.

“You do not need special abilities to teach,” Wu smiled. “And I fear the elements are why I am seeking this help in the first place. It appears my students are disregarding their training for their elemental powers.”

That made sense. Whenever you got frustrated while training with your father he always reminded you you didn’t need flashy powers to be strong. Because while they may be useful, there’s always a chance they can vanish, and then what?

Eventually you made up your mind. “Okay, I’ll do it.” You quickly looked to your parents, “If that’s alright with you?”

“Of course,” your mother wrapped her arms around you. “We know you’re in safe hands with Wu. Just promise you’ll call?”

“Of course,” you assured her as your father also joined in on saying goodbye.

Before long you were packed with enough things to last a few weeks. You might have to repeat some outfits for a while since the duration of your stay wasn’t specified. But you always had money you could spend on clothes.

“How do we get there?” You asked Master Wu after he informed you he and his students were residing at his tea shop, Steep Wisdom.

He glanced at you out the corner of his, and you just caught the glint of a smirk beneath his beard before golden particles started to form in front of you.

From those particles, something even greater arose. A dragon.

Your mouth gaped open. Wu laughed before tossing your luggage on top of the large white and gold dragon that had just materialized in front of you.

--

The dragon flight was frightening at first, but as you relaxed it wasn’t so bad. You got to see things from an all new perspective. Dragon-eye view style.

Eventually, through the clearing of teas you flew over, you spotted a cozy tea house nestled between the woods.

The dragon dipped lower and lower before let out a warning, “The dragon dissolves, can you stick the landing?”

“Of course,” you smiled. A drop from this height? Easy.

You prepared yourself, but the disappearance of the dragon beneath you still caught you off guard a bit. However, that didn’t stop you from landing perfectly on your feet.

Flawless, you thought as your luggage somehow landed just as gracefully next to you.

The space around you truly was beautiful. A wall surrounded the tea shop and courtyard, and you heard rushing water faintly in the distance, telling you there was some type of natural water nearby.

What you didn’t notice was the five boys lingering outside upon your arrival.

“Uh, anyone gonna introduce us?” A slightly high pitched voice asked.

You snapped your gaze away from the scenery and towards the voice. Five boys around your own age and dressed in colorful gis regarded you curiously.

Before you could introduce yourself, Wu cut in. “This is your new strength trainer. She’ll be taking over lessons when I’m busy. I expect each of you to treat her with respect.”

A course of “Yes, Sensei’s” were said before the bowed in unison.

Then, an older woman with a long braid falling down her back summoned Wu. Something about an inventory issue.

“Excuse me,” he said to you, and then to his students, “someone will need to show her to her new quarters.”

With that he was gone. And you were left with five teenage boys staring at you.

“Um, hi I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you.” You stuck with a polite introduction.

“Hey there,” a brunette boy with somewhat spiky hair said. “You know we don’t usually get many new people, may you and I could–”

“Kai,” a tall boy with black hair, cut him off. “Don’t be weird. She just got here.”

“What?” Kai gaped. “I was just going to ask if–”

“I apologize for my brother.” This time the voice came from… a titanium robot? Now that’s something you don’t see everyday.

Clearly the surprise was written all over your face at the unanimous chuckle that came from each boy.

“I am Zane,” the robot didn’t seem phased by your surprise. “This is Kai, Jay, Cole, and Lloyd. Kai’s sister also resides with us, but I’m afraid she is busy helping Misako and Master Wu.”

“Oh, that’s no problem,” you responded. “Do one of you know where I’m staying? If I don’t unpack now I’ll never get it done.” You admitted with a laugh.

“I got it,” said the boy with black hair you now knew to be Cole. He walked over, and grabbed each of your bags as though they weighed nothing.

“You don’t have to do that, I can take some of them. I know they’re a little heavy but no one told me how long I’d be staying.”

“Please,” Cole smirked, “it’s nothing. I can lift more than ten times this weight.”

“Show off,” Kai coughed.

“You okay?” Lloyd asked him.

“Yeah just something caught in my throat,” Kai shook his head before coughing the phrase again.

Cole rolled his eyes at Lloyd and Jay laughed. Zane didn’t seem to get it. You even found yourself smiling at the joke before following Cole to your room.

“Don’t mind them,” he said. “They can be a lot sometimes.”

“Something tells me you also fit into that category,” you teased. You are who you hangout with afterall. Though it wasn’t always true, it seemed fitting for this situation.

“I guess you’ll just have to find out won’t you?” Cole joked, looking back at you over his shoulder.

Eventually the two of you climbed a set of stairs hidden in the back of the tea shop. Upstairs was a small apartment looking room with multiple sets of doors, one of them being your own room.

It was a decent size, about the same as the one you had back home, with plenty of closet space.

“It’s not much I know,” Cole said, “but there’s been worse places we’ve stayed trust me.”

“No it’s perfect,” you insisted. “I don’t need a whole lot to get by.”

Cole nodded, setting your stuff down. “There’s two bathrooms, the boys and I share the one on the left, and you’ll be sharing with Nya on the right.”

You nodded, looking around your new room, thinking of all the ways you could make it look homier. Cole didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t leave either. He simply stood in your doorframe, looking at you, looking at your bare room.

“What?” You asked him, smiling.

“Nothing,” he shook his head with a grin. “Sorry, I’ll let you get settled in.”

You wanted to tell him it was no problem, but he vanished before you could. Out of all the boys you had just met, was the best looking in your eyes.

Shiny black hair, tall, and built like the mountains he commanded. Your new job was off to a good start already.

It was well into the evening when you finally met Nya. She sighed thankfully at the sight of you. She loved her brother, and she didn’t have any problems with the boys. They were all equally respectful, but other than Misako she had no other girls to talk to.

You too were happy for another girl to talk to. There was only so much testosterone someone could be around.

The two of you got along quickly as you offered to stock some shelves with her. Even though you were technically here to train the ninja, you weren’t due to start until the next day.

Your alarm woke you up at six thirty sharp. You know you weren’t supposed to start with the boys until eight that morning, but you wanted to get an early start on your first day before you got lazy.

Passing your way to the bathroom, you ran through your morning routine groggily before you headed downstairs to make yourself a cup of tea to wake you up.

Scanning the shelves for something that looked appetizing for the early morning, you didn’t even hear someone approach you from behind.

“I personally like this one,” a familiar voice said from behind you before a hand shot out and grabbed a case off one of the shelves just a hair too high for you to reach.

You jump slightly, startled by the person’s presence.

Spinning around, you saw the voice and arm belonged to Cole. He was smiling softly at you, a case of green tea in his hands. He too held the appearance of just waking up–tousled hair, sleepy eyes, and the lack of a shirt with black plaid pajama pants.

You quickly averted your eyes from his bare chest and instead found refuge in his earth eyes.

“Why green?” You blurted. It was the only question you could think of at this moment. And maybe it would distract him from the fact you were ogling him just a bit.

“Helps with energy,” he shrugged, tossing the case up in one hand. “I’ll start the kettle.”

It took you an embarrassingly long time to follow him to the back of the tea shop where a small kitchen resided.

He filled the kettle up with water and placed it on the stove before taking a seat at the island next.

“I’d make you some breakfast, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be edible and that’s not the first impression I want you to have of me.” Cole laughed sheepishly.

You laughed with him before you took it upon yourself to scope out the fridge.

“How do you feel about omelets?” You asked after finding multiple cases of eggs. With this many ingredients you would be able to feed the whole team.

“I’m down,” he nodded.

You closed the fridge slightly before you saw a slip of paper taped to the front. It seemed to be a list of written chores, and at the bottom written in all capital letters next to a star were the words, ‘COLE IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE KITCHEN UNSUPERVISED.’

“Jeez, what’d you do?” You giggled, gesturing to the paper.

The boy flushed slightly, shrugging his broad shoulders before saying, “You set fire to the oven one time and suddenly you’re untrustworthy.” He rolled his eyes.

“Funny how that works.”

“Hilarious.” He deadpanned.

“Well since you can’t help with the food why don’t you just grab anything you want to add to the eggs, help me find the pans, and I’ll take care of the cooking part.” You suggested.

“That I can do,” he slipped off the stool.

Even though he wasn’t helping with the actual breakfast, the two of you worked in harmony together. He’d hand you the spatula, chop some vegetables, and give you some spices upon request. However, when you thought you could trust him with cracking an egg and he ended up getting it all over his bare torso you took it upon yourself to tie a black apron around him.

“Seriously?” He laughed as you tied the knot around his waist.

“Yup,” you nodded. “Damn. I’d need a magnifying glass to find your waist.”

He tipped his head back and laughed as you returned to flipping omelets with a smirk.

At this point you had successfully made two cups of tea, and three omelets. On the fourth, you were starting to grow more confident.

“Think I could flip it without a spatula?” You asked.

“No,” Cole shook his head, now seated on the island behind you.

“No faith,” you gasped, offended.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he shrugged, leaning back on his palms.

“Oh yeah?” You challenged before grasping the pan handle with both hands. You’d never done this before, but how hard could it be really? The answer was not very as you successfully tossed up an omelet and caught it gently on the other side.

You cheered, victorious as Cole also encouraged you, both laughing all the way.

Eventually, more and more people started waking up, and the more competent ones (Zane) began to help you with breakfast.

By the time eight in the morning rolled around, breakfast had been done, dishes were washed, and you were gathered in the courtyard with each of the ninja. Wu had given you the rundown of what he’d like you to work on with his students, and that’s exactly what you’d do.

“So,” you said, shaking the jitters out of your hands. “I’m thinking I’ll just spar one on one with each of you to see what you need to work on. Okay?”

The boys traded uneasy glances. “Are you sure?” Jay asked.

You smiled a little at their apprehension. “Yes, I’m positive. We’re just sparring, remember. But don’t hold back, otherwise it’s just a waste of time.”

“Yeah, you get your ass handed to you by Nya all the time, this shouldn’t be different.” Cole patted Jay on the back.

The others laughed at Jay’s blush and he grumbled something inaudible under his breath.

“Okay Jay, since you’re so worried you’re up first.” You waved him over. “Sensei said no powers.”

“Right,” Jay nodded as he approached you slowly.

“I’m not gonna bite you, Jay.”

“I know that!” He defended as the boys behind him howled with laughter.

You couldn’t help but tease him as the two of you got into a fighting stance.

You dug your feet into the ground and steadied your breathing. The key to combat was focus, controlled breathing, and anticipation. At least that’s what your father told you.

It was no surprise to you that Jay attacked quickly. He was the master of lightning afterall. However, that was what made him so predictable.

He’d throw a series of quick jabs that you avoided with grace. With each attack you’d be just an inch out of reach. Jay was quick–but you were quicker.

You didn’t notice it, but the chatter was nonexistent, and Jay was wholly focused on sparring. Though the sweat building on his forehead, and his attacks slowing were also becoming more prominent.

He threw a high kick in there this time, which was just what you were waiting for. The second his foot came off the ground, you moved to the side, grabbed his ankle, and with your own leg, swept his balancing leg off the ground causing him to fall straight onto his back.

Jay landed with a wheeze, but you helped him up just as quickly. “Your attacks are precise, but they’re sloppy. You try to cram in a lot of combined attacks and hope for the best. If you slow them down a bit you’re more likely to land a few.”

Kai ‘Ohed’ from the sidelines. “You didn’t even get one hit dude.”

Jay glared at him as he took a seat beside Lloyd.

“And you won’t either, your turn.” You pointed to Kai.

The others laughed, but Kai rose, determination clear on his face.

You got into position again, but this time you’d change up your evasion techniques. Since he spent the previous match observing you he no doubt knew some of your moves.

Kai fought more aggressively than Jay, but with less accuracy making him easier to avoid. You twirled around him after a hard punch threw him off balance slightly. With your backs to each other, you only had a moment to grab his arm, crouch, shift your weight, and flip his body over yours.

Kai landed as hard as Jay.

After explaining his problem to him, you called up Zane next. You wanted to get the analyzing robot out of the way before you completely ran out of cards to play.

You had to admit, Zane almost got you, but you quickly threw yourself from his reach with a well timed aerial over his shoulder. Just as you landed he threw a punch, but you were ready for that. You crouched the moment you landed, and swept both his legs.

Standing quickly, you had just enough time to catch the front of his gi, suspending him above the floor ever so slightly. You felt a bit bad–you didn’t want to dent him after all.

Lloyd whistled, impressed, as he was finally called to the stand.

Lloyd, the green ninja. You knew he would also be pretty difficult, but it was like you were in a trance at the moment. You weren’t about to lose your winning streak, were you?

Being as flexible as you were didn’t hurt either. Sure the ninja were pretty flexible, but you could contort yourself into the most uncomfortable positions making it easy to avoid each of the ninja's blows.

All you had to do was wait until they tired themselves out, and then deliver the final blow. It was almost as if they were fighting themselves.

Lloyd looked concentrated, but his stance was off slightly. You feinted one way, and he fell for it easily, shifting all his weight onto one side of his body to prepare for the hit he thought was coming. Instead, you spun and shoved your shoulder hard into the opposite side of his body.

Lloyd crumbled like a house of cards.

When the green ninja retreated with a defeated look on his face, you were left with only one ninja now.

You suspected because of his height, Cole would be slow and off balance, but you were wrong. He was sturdy, and his height only added to his balance if anything. You’ve fought people bigger and stronger than you all the time, bad unlucky for him they only went down one way.

After a while of going through your song and dance of avoidance once again, Cole laughed.

“You’re slippery, huh?” He joked.

You winked before sliding between his legs, kicking the back of his knees and then once more between his shoulder blades to send him tumbling down to the ground.

“Wu was right,” you huffed, wiping the sweat from your forehead. “You guys rely way too much on your powers.”

“Alright, cough it up, where’d you learn that?” Jay asked.

“Learn what?” You laughed, helping a grumpy Cole from the floor.

“You flip around so much I got sick from just looking at you!” Jay whined.

“Lots of practice and some time in the cirque,” she shrugged.

“Like the circus?” Cole asked, looking down at you.

“Not the stuff with the tent and the animals,” you clarified. “More like the Cirque Du Soleil shows, you know? Anyway, I did a lot of acro as a kid. Made it easy to learn combat.”

“That’s awesome,” Kai said. “Have you ever juggled fire?”

“I told you, it’s not the tent type of circus,” you laughed. “It’s classier than that. That’s besides the point, you all have work to do. Lucky for all of you we’re going to start with yoga today! Just as a warm up.”

You giggled behind your hand at the unanimous groan coming from all five boys.

[tarithenurse]

Don't hide it

Fandom: MCU Pairing/starring: Loki Odinson x/& fem!reader Word count: 1071 Content: Pining, shyness, too much empathy, fluff. A/N: Waiting for a better idea so here’s this in the meantime. Feel free to reblog if you liked it – it’s always nice with new readers. Comments are fuel for more!

Don’t hide it

Following in your friend’s footsteps, you’re grateful that Loki knows you well enough to draw you away from the feast and all the people there. Few will miss him even though he’s a prince and you...well, you’re no one important save for a rich man’s daughter who is too timid to mingle with the upper echelon of Asgard.

After a quick detour past a storage room and the kitchens, Loki and you have gathered ample supplies to last you the night and have gone where no one will look for you: the hayloft above the stables.

Sitting on the soft blankets and furs, you can look down at the stalls with horses who are half asleep or chewing lazily on their fodder.

“Here,” Loki grins as he hands you a bottle of honeyed mead, “there’s lots.”

You’ve managed to snag fruits and cheeses and meats aside from quite a few bottles of the sweet drink.

Allowing the contents of the bottle to soothe your throat, you sneak a glance at your friend who’s doing the same. You notice how his throat bobs with each pull, how his jaw bone could cut glass...and then you have to look away before your thoughts get carried to unwanted territory.

You’ve known Loki since you were five and you’ve been close friends since then. You’ve also, regrettably, developed a deeper attraction to the prince over the last few years – one that you know will never be a possibility. That’s what makes it so painful to be with him: he is the only one who knows you truly...and still you can’t tell him this one thing for fear of ruining a friendship.

“Mother is starting to host more of these balls, it seems,” Loki muses.

I’ve noticed it too. And you know why.

“Of course...both you and your brother are still not betrothed or even in relations with anyone,” you shrug before you can stop yourself.

Loki falls onto his back with a groan. “I shall let Thor have this without competition.” Another groan. “Betrothed. Relations. No thank you.” Then he props himself up by the elbow. “What about you? Are your parents not inviting suitors over for you?”

You grimace at the thought. “I’m sure it will come soon enough.”

“I can imagine it...you being the hostess and the centre of attention.”

Looking about for strands of hay to braid, you don’t notice the darkness in his eyes and he schools his facial expression before you look up at him again.

“I’d rather die,” you sigh.

It’d be torture having to greet one suitor after the other. You don’t feel comfortable around stranger or in the company of many people. That’s why you’d agreed to sneak out of this night’s feast when Loki suggested it.

Keen to change the subject too, Loki studies your features for a moment. He quite likes how you always keep your hands occupied and he’s said so in the past. He’s the only one who seems to like your odd habits.

“Not that I do not cherish our little escapades away from the crowds...but we must see to cure you of your shyness,” he suddenly announces.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” you shoot back.

He shrugs. “Depends what you fear by being near them.”

“It is not fear it is...” You have to search for the right term but come up with nothing. “It’s as though I sense all they feel, all their sentiments. Anger, joy, sadness.”

“Love?”

“Sometimes, yes...but not always.”

Loki takes a swig from the bottle, clearly considering your words. “Then you must learn to shift your attention to their physical presence instead.”

You can’t hold back the hopeless laugh. “How?”

“Imagine them naked.”

You almost choke on the mead, having all too clearly imagined him naked before you – not for the first time but more clearly now.

“Then I think I would be equally shy albeit for different reasons,” you argue once you can speak again, avoiding to meet his gaze.

Falling back on the furs and blankets, none of you say anything for a while. The only sounds are from the large creatures below and a mouse tip-tapping along a secret path on the other side of the hay.

You know Loki is thinking. He always thinks.

“Perhaps...you must simply trust that you are better than them,” he offers softly.

A scoff escapes your lips. There’s no reason to state the obvious and Loki should know as much.

Hearing the rustle of the hay beneath the furs, you sense more than see Loki scoot closer until you are lying next to each other. Then he reaches to cup your cheek, turning your face to meet his.

“I mean it. Why can’t you see it?” he admonishes softly. There’s something you can’t figure out in his voice and his gaze. Something almost painful. “You read people better than anyone I know...and you know me better than anyone...why won’t you trust me?”

His hand is cool on your skin. For a brief second your eyes stray to his lips and a sudden urge to kiss him fill you...yet you do nothing. You just close your eyes and relish the nearness.

“It’s not that I do not trust you, Loki,” you begin to explain, “but you’re my friend a-”

“Don’t take my word for it as a friend. Hear me as...as a man,” he growls, causing shivers to run down your spine and something to bloom in the pit of your stomach. “I see all the other ladies at the feasts yet none of them are as wonderful as you.”

Opening your eyes, you’re met with blazing sincerity. “What do you mean?”

“For someone as emotionally gifted, you truly are dense right now.”

You would have recoiled at his harsh words. Would have served a rebuttal or asked for a clarification once more, maybe. But all of that is lost to you the moment his dips his head down and kisses you.

Fierce. Lips pressing hard together and noses squishing together slightly. You’re too surprised to do anything but grasp of the collar of his tunic, holding you steady in a world that suddenly seems to dip and rotate around the two of you.

You’re both out of breath by the time he pulls back, watching you intently.

“Do you understand now?” he asks quietly.

You nod. Then pull him down for a kiss more.

[parkersbliss]

Met Him Last Night | P. Graves

pairing: phillip graves x gender neutral reader 

synopsis: you make a decision to trust him, just this once. don't be surprised when it backfires.

warnings: graves, mentions of soap's death, possible timeline inaccuracies, one sexual reference

a/n: based on the song "met him last night" by demi lovato ft. ariana grande :) down bad for this man pls he's my american babe

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for call of duty!

—

“Red or white?” 

“Neither.” 

“White it is,” They tell the server, pointing to one of the names.

You sigh, leaning back in your seat. What were you doing this late at night here? With him? 

Graves is sitting in front of you, smirking at your sour expression and you want to rip it off his face. 

The server returns with the bottle and two glasses, pouring it for both of you. Graves thanks him and then gestures for you to take a sip. He grabs his glass, raises it to you in a toast, and waits. You hesitate for a second before grabbing the other glass. After all, what’s there to lose? You’ve already sat here with him, might as well make it more bearable. 

“That’s more like it,” He chuckles as you take a huge gulp. It has a hint of white peaches, delicate, but rich and intense as you finish it. 

You set the glass back down. “You’re an instigator.” 

“So they tell me,” He replies with ease. “But isn’t this so much more fun than drowning in your own sorrows?” 

You’ll give him that, at least. You weren’t sure why you thought this was a good idea. You don’t really believe in Graves and what he stood for. Or lack of what he stood for. 

Yet, here you were, sat in this restaurant with him, indulging him when you shouldn’t. A meeting with the devil. 

“You know you don’t have to like so sour to be here, darlin’. It was your choice to contact me.” 

“I’m starting to regret that,” You mumble, knowing he was right. In a moment of weakness, you begged for a contact with him and did some dingy shit, but you got it. You should at least give him a chance after all that hard work. 

“I’m not good enough company?” 

“I’ve had better.” 

He fakes a frown. “Hurtful, really. But I know you’re mourning, so I’ll let it slide.” 

You roll your eyes. “How generous of you.” 

“You know, they do say I am quite a giver.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. Giver? He must have spoken wrong, he was a digger. Grave digger or gold digger. They both fit him. “Well, that’s some bullshit.” 

Graves laughs, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “No, I’m generous to the right people,” He corrects you. “My shadows get bonuses every year for Christmas.” He extends a hand to gesture at the table. “I’m paying for our lovely dinner tonight. Think that must constitute for something.” 

“Thank you,” You said, honestly. He was right after all, you called him here and all you’ve done is hurl insults at him. “I’m sorry.” 

He quirks a brow. “For what?” 

“I could be better company.”

“Ah, nonsense!” He waves a hand, dismissing your apology. His voice lowers, “Anyone in your position would be the same way, snippy and all.” 

“I’m not snippy!” You’re quick to defend. Though the look on his face says you might have just proven his point. “A little snippy,” You admit. 

“And that’s okay. It’s never easy losing a teammate to something so… preventable.” 

You clench your jaw at that mention and he takes quick notice. “But enough of that. Let’s talk about you.” 

“What about me?” 

“Anything you like, darlin’.” 

“I have a cat,” You blurt out. 

“Do ya?”

You nod. “Yeah, my friend takes care of him while I’m away. He’s uh… a tuxedo.” You pull out your phone to show him a picture. “He’s a little shit.” 

Graves leans in to look at the photo of your cat. “He’s cute, can’t blame him.” 

You snort. “I can’t have a Christmas tree 'cause he scales that thing to the top.” 

“So he likes a little fun.” Graves shrugs. “Don’t see nothin’ wrong with that.” 

You shake your head, a little amused. Of course, he would say that. “It’s more than that.” 

“Then tell me.” 

The conversion becomes easy after that. After you stopped insulting him, at least. Anyone who knew you knew the easiest way to get you to open up was through your cat. Maybe the wine is getting to your head, but he’s not so bad. Phillip makes you laugh, you make him laugh. You banter, you rant, you cry, and he understands. He promises you exactly what you’re looking for.

“We don’t play by the rules, darlin’. Believe me, I can get you exactly what you want.” 

You’re gone after that, having split the bottle of wine between the two of you. Any rational thoughts of what’s wrong and right have left your mind. The devil has promised you something, and he always keeps them. And perhaps you’ve promised something you shouldn’t have. 

He pays the bill, he walks you home with a hand on your back, and he stands at your doorway saying ‘goodnight.’ 

But you don’t want to be alone. 

He spends the night. Once. Twice. Three times. Too many to keep track of, but you didn’t care to anymore. Not when you sang Phillip’s praises when he was between your legs, or when he’s bringing you flowers when he sees you, or holding you late at night as you continue to mourn and find comfort in someone like him. 

There’s something warm and fuzzy about him. Something that makes your head spin and your legs weak. You don’t think when he’s around (maybe that’s the problem), but you don’t need to. 

“Never have to worry your pretty head ‘bout a thing darlin’.” Phillip would say, and so you did. 

You let him take care of your plan, your revenge, his promise. You let him take of you, healing some part of you that hadn’t after you lost Johnny. 

At least that’s what you thought, but maybe you got lost along the way, turned around, and headed straight into his arms. 

He made it so easy after all, didn’t he? To believe in him, that is. And you did a fucked up thing, really. A mistake on your part. Phillip had loyalty to no one but his shadows. For you to even think he’d extend that to you? Well, you had to be stupid or in love. 

And you weren’t stupid. 

You storm around your apartment, phone gripped tightly in your hand. You were fucked.

“Are you kidding me?” You practically scream. 

“Darlin’, please, it’s not personal.” 

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You used me.” You’re practically fuming at him. He was smart, finding you when you were vulnerable, and letting you reach out first. He prayed on your innocence, on your hurt. You damn sure weren’t letting that happen again. 

“Used is such a strong term,” Graves chides. “And really, I didn’t. You’re overreacting sweetness. This has nothing to do with you.” 

“It has everything!” 

You can hear his eye roll through the phone. “Would you just trust me on this?”

“Are you being serious? No! I’m never making that mistake again.” Graves didn’t wear disguises. You should’ve seen right through him. You knew better now. How could you ever have thought to believe him? Someone like him, with only a history of deceiving. You were there when he turned his back on you in Las Almas, at Shepard in the courtroom, and yet you believed him. He was your vice, your flaw, your reason. 

He was horrible in so many ways, but you came back every time. You craved him holding you at night, wiping the tears away. The way he’d kiss you when you would meet up, his hands roaming your body— you’d never felt this way.

“(Y/N),” He drawls and you want to fall for it, but you don’t. 

“No, I’m done. I’m leaving.” 

“Don’t be like this.” 

“You gave me a pretty damn good reason to leave. This is on you.” 

He chuckles through the phone. “If you’d let me explain, you’d see I’m not such a bad guy.” 

You shake your head. “No,” You said firmly. “No, you betrayed me and I betrayed my team.”

What were they going to think of you after this? You weren’t like this, so reckless, engaging with the enemy. No one expected this from you, and you certainly didn’t expect it from yourself, to fall so hard. But you weren’t going down without a fight. 

You bounce back like you always did. “This is the last call we’re having, Graves.” You practically spit his name out and he’s hurt when you hang up. You were always so stubborn with him. So quick to dismiss his reasons, like you’re looking for a reason to hate him. Whatever, you’ll come back. You’ll see he did this for you. He was not a bad guy, he was carrying out the plan you wanted. It just happened he had to screw over a couple people for it. He just didn’t expect you to get so worked up over it. 

You dial the next person, heart thundering. 

“(Y/N)?” A voice calls out, familiar to you and you hope they won’t hate you. That was the last thing you needed right now. You lost Johnny, and now you lost Graves (it’s a good thing you tell yourself, but your heart says otherwise), you couldn’t lose your team too. 

“Kyle, I,” You swallow, tears clouding your vision when you realize what you’ve done. “I fucked up.” 

– END –

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[theswandrowned]

Lucanis x Davrin kissing under the cut that’s all hehe

That night in Arlathan forest was a peaceful one. A gentle breeze weaved its way through the leaves while the inhabitants of the forest settled down for the night. In the distance the sound of the river could be heard and the gentle churning of the artefacts, but other than that there was not another sound to be heard.

Until…

“Are you quite serious?!”

“Yeah. Yeah I am.”

The sound of an axe hitting wood crackled through the serenity of the night, the anger of its wielder very evident even from a distance.

Davrin and Lucanis had never been the best of friends since they had joined the veilguard, but they tolerated each other for their friend’s sakes. They had gods to kill, they couldn’t afford to be at each others throats.

However in the solace of Arlathan Forest, anything goes.

Bellara and Rook had asked the pair to go into the forest to look for some missing veil jumpers while they helped at the veil jumper camp. Both men protested, but in the end they caved to the bosses orders.

Since they had left that morning it had been verbal jabs and snarky remarks and as the sun set on the horizon the argument finally reached its boiling point.

“Do not lecture me about the nature of my job.” Lucanis scoffed with an unimpressed shake of his head. The crow was perched on a nearby fallen log, watching as Davrin hacked away at some wood for the fire they were currently attempting to build.

Or… that Davrin was currently attempting to build.

Lucanis was offering moral support. Or immoral support. Whatever one 

worked best.

“You,” Davrin said through gritted teeth as he slammed the axe down once more. “Are a murderer.” He heaved a sigh, straightening his back to look at the other man. “That is literally all there is to ‘the nature of your job’.” He mocked, throwing the piece of wood he had just chopped at the hungry flames.

Lucanis rolled his eyes at that statement.

“You are a murderer as well, warden.” He mused, shrugging his shoulders. “Not my fault you don’t monetise it.”

“That’s exactly my issue.” Davrin declared, pointing the axe at the other man. “You do it for money. I do it to save people.”

Lucanis laughed.

“Ah, my hero.” He mocked. “God forbid the valiant grey warden ever kill an innocent man!”

“Get fucked.” Davrin hissed in response, throwing a discarded piece of wood in the other man’s direction. Feigning offence, Lucanis reached down and picked up a small pebble, one that wouldn’t really do too much damage, and he promptly threw it at Davrin.

The rock then proceeded to hit Davrin square in the forehead just as the warden turned around to look at him. 

“You started it!” Lucanis shouted as Davrin took a step towards him, axe still clutched in his hands. “I was only defending myself.” He reasoned, holding his hands up near his chest in his defence.

“You’re insufferable you know that?” Davrin snapped. “Let’s just get this 

job over with so I never have to see you again.”

“Ah, my poor heart!” Lucanis joked, pressing his lips into a thin line as Davrin held the axe up towards him again. Hiding his amusement. “You wouldn’t dare, Rook would be so sad.” 

Lucanis was sure Davrin was joking around with the axe, so he continued to push just a little more. Because why shouldn’t he? This job was already boring enough as is.

Davrin, sick of the man’s incessant blabbering, quickly rounded the fire and threw the axe at Lucanis’ feet.

“You chop the wood then wise guy. I’m done with this.” The warden sighed, rolling his shoulders as he turned away from the crow. Hell, even Manfred was better company than this.

Lucanis stared down at the axe before he looked back up at Davrin, boring holes through his back with his glare.

“I am not chopping wood.” He declared, almost sounding offended at the idea.

Davrin let out a frustrated sigh, his head hanging low for a moment before he turned and walked back towards Lucanis.

“Fine then.” He declared when he reached the other man, a mere few inches between them. “I guess you’ll have to freeze.”

Davrin had fully approached Lucanis with the intention of picking the axe up and walking away with it, in order to make sure Lucanis had no way of taking his words back, however he found his gaze locked on Lucanis’s eyes. All he could do was contort his face in annoyance at the smug pools of brown looking back at him.

Lucanis tilted his chin up just a little bit, that smug look in his eyes quickly reflected by the grin that bloomed across his face. 

“Tch.” He muttered. “You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid, grey warden.” He joked, attempting to take the other man by surprise.

It was a joke.

He was joking, he didn’t really mean it. He just wanted to get on Davrin’s nerves a little bit more. 

However it was his turn to be taken by surprise as Davrin grabbed his one of his wrists and pulled him forward in one swift motion, he barely had time to process before their chests were pressed up against one another and their lips were locked together.

It was rough, carnal, Lucanis felt himself desperate as his hands gripped at Davrin’s waist barely letting himself or the other man come up for air.

Davrin’s hands clasped either side of Lucanis’s face, walking them backwards until Lucanis felt the cold bark of a tree against his back. 

That’s when Davrin paused, pulling away ever so slightly. There was a look of annoyance on his face, as if he was saying “I can’t believe you made me do this.” And Lucanis could only smirk.

“Let’s not tell rook about this, yeah?” The crow grinned, breathless. His lips kissed red, his cheeks flushed.

Davrin could only roll his eyes, pressing into the other man again as he went in for another kiss. One of his hands travelled down to Lucanis’ neck, thumb tracing the dip of his collar bones.

Lucanis pressed back, deepening the kiss at every moment he could, their moans muffled by their embrace.

“I’m still going to kill you.” Davrin muttered as their lips parted for nearly a second, sliding his knee ever so purposefully between Lucanis’ legs. The crow shuddered.

“To be slain by you would be an honour.” 

[dekariosclan]

Thinking about God Gale again…(especially since you made a great point about how he still loves you as a god! Which is so good and SO ANGSTY!) You may or may not be able to answer this, but I’d love to hear your thoughts: do you think God Gale would give up his godhood to be with a mortal Tav again? Would his love for Tav overcome his need for immortality and feeling like “he’s enough” as the God of Ambition?

As always: thank you for the wonderful meals about our boy 🙏 Dekarios the Divine bless you

OH DEAR GODS AN ANGSTY ASK

(ok, ok. I can do this. keep it together *hyperventilating into paper bag* just act normal goddamnit—)

Greetings fellow human! Hi! Thank you for this lovely ask, and rest assured that I am an extremely normal person who can totally handle emotional discussions about pixel people! NO I’M NOT CRYING—

Do I think God Gale would give up his godhood to be a mortal with Tav again?

Yes, I do—but only if he was able to be self-aware enough to realize that Godhood was not making him feel as happy or as content as Tav’s love did. Then his scholarly mind might finally begin to question what in the heavens he’d been thinking by giving that up just for ‘divine power’ which, as it turns out, really isn’t all that ‘divine.’

Would his love for Tav overcome his need for immortality and feeling like “he’s enough” as the God of Ambition?

The problem is that Godhood changes Gale (as it would change anyone) from a self-aware mortal to a divine being who can no longer relate to human experiences, including the passage of time. So while it’s confirmed that Gale still loves Tav, that love is now buried under weight of Gale’s hubris and godly ambitions, which would be very hard to overcome.

I know Raphael has the ending monologue where he predicts that Gale will eventually tear apart the pantheon, BUT, I personally don’t take that at face value as a guaranteed outcome. That speech reeks of sour grapes to me, and Raphael just being the smug bastard that we all know and love, so I think it’s less ‘Raphael’s Guaranteed Prediction’, and more ‘Raphael’s Fantasy Fanfiction’. Is it still possible? Sure, and I think if Gale did not romance Tav and did not get to experience their love then it is probably a more likely possibility.

But if Gale did romance Tav, then what I think is the tragic and more probable outcome is that Gale would eventually ‘wake up’ and realize that Godhood is not all that it’s cracked up to be, and decide to return home to Faerun and to Tav—but so much time has passed (and he did not realize it) that Tav and everyone he loved has now passed away.

AH GOD THE ANGST HURTS MY SPLEEN

But let’s focus on the GOOD outcome of him giving up Godhood and doing it in time to be with Tav again. It would be hard, and it would require Gale to REALLY overcome his insecurities and his pride, but I do think it is possible. Just looking at Gale’s ‘Godly Form’ you can see literal cracks in his exterior. He is not 100% unbreakable.

I still think at least a decent chunk of ‘human time’ would have to pass—we’ll say five years or so—before he would come to the realization.

And then one day (assuming Tav had not moved on and found new love) they would open their door, and—

“Hello,” Gale said, softly.

Tav blinked, for a moment trying to find their footing as their entire world spun out from under them.

“…Dekarios the Divine?” Tav asked, uncertainly. Gale’s clothes were simple robes, his skin no longer glowing with divine power. He looked almost as he had in Tav’s dreams, in all of their memories of when he’d still been a mortal.

Only this man’s eyes were much, much more tired. And filled with regret.

“No…I’m just plain old Gale Dekarios now. A most brilliant wizard of intentionally limited reknown.” He reached out, hesitantly, and took Tav’s hand in both of his.

For a moment they both stood silently, relishing the warmth of each other’s touch.

“Apologies. I hoped I’d be better at this.”

A smile was beginning to pull at Tav’s lips, even as their eyes filled. “At introductions?”

“At begging for your forgiveness.”

————— *One additional note: I simply must add that @lady-sapphyre wrote this excellent fic that tackles Gale giving up Godhood and I highly recommend it!

[gothamite-rambler]

Damian meets Swamp Thing

Context: This is based on one of the canon's but I do like this one the most. Absorbing the memories of the dead person you think you are has always been a fascinating trope. Plus Damian wanting to help out villains he finds interesting is just heroic and sweet thing for him to do.

Alec (Swamp Thing): Hey, little dude. Awesome to meet a new Robin! I really love the representation. We need more diversity in the Bat League.

Batman: I have heroes of other races—wait, I’m going to stop there before I say something inappropriate.

Damian, dressed in his Robin suit, chuckled at his father's embarrassment.

Alec: It’s cool, Batman. I get you. You’re a cool hero, and you seem to take care of these kids. Ivy really likes one of them a lot.

Batman: I’m painfully aware of that.

Alec: I was thrown off by it too. Back to the little dude—Robin, I love this suit. Rock on, little dude!

Damian smiled, his head down. Batman cleared his throat to remind the young Robin to focus on why they were there. Robin nodded, preparing to speak.

Damian: Mr. Swamp Thing—

Alec (in a chill tone): You can call me Alec. Swamp Thing is what my enemies call me.

Damian (slightly surprised): Oh, so we're not enemies?

Alec: Nah, you’re friends with Ivy's girlfriend, and she’s pretty chill. Ivy seriously needed that kind of positive vibe.

Damian nodded with a prideful smile, then glanced at his father, subtly rubbing in that another villain liked him. Batman rolled his eyes and waved a hand for his son to hurry up.

Damian (to Alec): I agree, sir. This conversation is going well, and I hope not to offend you, but I was curious about one thing: Are you a former human turned into a swamp creature, or a sentient plant that has absorbed all of Alec's memories?

Damian placed his hands behind his back, waiting for an answer, while Batman heaved a heavy sigh, too embarrassed to speak.

Batman (to himself): I would've gotten to the point already.

Alec (surprised): Oh… wow. I haven’t been asked that in a long, long time.

Damian: Is it okay if I ask? Batman said it was wildly inappropriate and you'd "go berserk" if I asked that, and then I wouldn’t be able to ask any further questions. Right, Batman?!

Damian looked up at his father, who remained silent, covering his eyes in frustration and holding his head down.

Damian: I think that means yes. My apologies, Alec, I’m a curious child. I love to learn about criminals or former criminals such as yourself. I'm not going to judge you or anything.

Alec: You're okay, little Robin. I accepted what I am a long time ago. I couldn’t deal with humans, though; that’s why I live here, surrounded by the swampy foliage—meditating and stuff like that. My 'birth' is odd, to say the least. I’m a hundred percent plant, but I absorbed most of the original Alec's memories. The poor guy died in the explosion that created me, and his body sank deep into a swampy marsh. After going through an existential crisis, I searched for him and buried his body in a better spot.

Damian: Oh... that's quite the bittersweet origin story. It’s reassuring to see you’ve had good personal growth since then.

Batman (chiming in, exasperated tone): Robin, he killed so many people and almost created plant zombies.

Damian: And you invite Red Hood over for Thanksgiving; you have no room to talk.

Alec laughed, then sighed with a smile.

Alec: Yeah, don’t worry; I’m not doing anything evil anymore. I did some goon work for a few years and worked with Ivy, but I’m retired now. I enjoy spending my days chillaxing here, keeping my zen in check. Gotta make sure to avoid toxic outlets, you know?

Damian: I do. I'm not giving up my iPhone, but I get it. I'm glad you've reached that level of enlightenment; you can reject my offer. Thing is, I helped out Mr. Freeze and was wondering if you needed any assistance?

Alec smiled and shook his head.

Alec: While I appreciate you wanting to help, I'm good.

Damian: Hm, are you sure? I can do a lot, especially with my dad's money. Batman knows my dad; he can help, right, Batman?!

Batman (deadpan): Trust me, when I talk to your father, you’re going to be so grounded.

Damian (chuckling): Worth it.

Alec (crossing his arms): How about this? If I do need something from you guys, you'll be the first I contact.

Damian: That works. Here’s a phone to make it easier to reach me. It’s solar-powered, so there’s no need to charge it like a regular cell phone. It’s waterproof and gets reception in this bayou. My number is on there, along with Ivy's, Harley's, and Batman's.

Batman (angry): I told you not to involve me in this!

Damian (gritting his teeth): You know my rich father, so you're helping!

Batman: Okay, fine. I’m going to the car, and we’re having a talk when we drive home.

Batman walked off as Damian handed the phone to Alec. Alec took it with a genuine smile, surprised.

Alec: I have to say, I’m not too into these cell phones. They’re bad for the environment and the mind. But this seems like a pretty simple touchscreen. Thanks, kid.

Damian gave a thumbs up.

Damian: It’s what heroes do. All right, Batman is ready to go. See you around, Alec.

Damian put up the hood on his suit and walked off as Alec opened a music app on the phone.

Alec (smiling): Huh, the kid's not that bad.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

on the rare occasion when sanemi’s mental health plummeted and he couldn’t take it, his feet guided him, the ache and the need for numbness coaxing the money over, lifting his hand as he took the sake. he drank and he drank until he was completely unconscious. he awoke with alcohol still strong in his system and, without much thought, he found himself on the way to gyomei’s estate. he often associated the man with something of comfort, although he couldn’t figure out why at the moment. neither could he figure out when he’d arrived, instead staring blankly at the door to gyomei’s house before realizing he had to knock. gyomei opened the door for him and allowed him entry, sensing far more than the sake and gruff greeting sanemi managed. they sat quietly inside after gyomei gave him a cup of water. then, abruptly, sanemi spoke. he was uncharacteristically vulnerable under the anesthesia of alcohol.

“you asked why i don’t talk to genya,” he stated, his eyes unfocused as he stared down at his cup. he took a sip. “didn’t answer, did i?”

gyomei hummed vaguely, not wanting to accidentally set sanemi off. he wasn’t sure how this man was like, once his guard was lowered. “i do not believe you did,” he agreed, though that certain conversation had happened weeks ago. genya was here, actually. he’d been training in the back when sanemi had arrived. undoubtedly, genya must be wondering what was taking so long.

sanemi nodded, downing the rest of his water. he put the cup down. then picked it up, fidgeting with it. his movement was loud in the silence of the room. “considering the circumstances,” he began, “is there really anything else i could do?”

“what do you mean?” gyomei asked, frowning. he heard a door opening, somewhere in the house. genya was getting restless, it seemed. or he was taking a break.

“my only objective for anything is…” sanemi paused, considering this. he started again, discarding his previous words. “most demon slayers objectives are to make sure other people can live normally. even if we can’t. right?”

gyomei made a noise of agreement. sanemi nodded.

“i’m no exception,” he remarked. “but, also, i am. it’s not like i don’t care about other people, but- i don’t ever think about them. when i need to be motivated to stay alive. you know? i do have other people i care about, like iguro or whatever. but he’s not why i’m doing this. i’m not why i’m doing this. nobody’s why i’m doing this.”

there was a lengthy pause. “then who is?” gyomei inquired. he shouldn’t be taking advantage of sanemi’s talkativeness, but he wasn’t the one who needed to hear it. he knew where this was going. genya did not.

sanemi sighed. he tossed his cup in the air, catching it in one hand. “genya. he’s not strong enough for the corps. he’ll survive a couple weeks, but he’s due to die eventually. or get too injured to keep going. i don’t get him. he’s got no reason to keep going, yet he clings onto the pathetic hope that he can do it. he should’ve opted to find some woman to marry. let him have children and make a family and forget all of this happened. if he wants to survive, that’s his best bet,” he said. he seemed to have thought it over many times before. enough so he knew it all, even under the muddled mindset he was sporting. “genya deserves better than to fight mutilated beasts every day. but i can’t kill them all for him. so he just has to leave.”

gyomei let this sink in for a long moment. “i believe,” he began, slowly, “that he wants to by your side.”

“wants?” sanemi scoffed. “he doesn’t know what he wants right now. but i know what he needs. he needs to stop chasing after me. i’m a lost cause. he’s not, yet. so he should take advantage of it before it’s too late. he’s an idiot.”

“i understand where you’re coming from,” gyomei reasoned. “but… you have to consider how he feels about it. does he want a life without his brother? is it really best for him?”

sanemi’s posture sunk, ever so slightly. he was trying to curl into himself. “not like i love the prospect, either,” he mumbled. “it’s just best for him. don’t want nothing more than that.”

gyomei let out a breath. “if you tried talking to him about it-“

before he could finish, sanemi cut in. “don’t be stupid, himejima, he hates me. he wouldn’t listen.”

gyomei was completely taken aback. “what? of course not. quite far from the truth, shinazugawa.” he was confused. “from where did you gain that aspect?”

“where? he hardly listens; won’t leave the corps when i tell him,” sanemi said, full of irritation suddenly.

“because he wants to stay by your side.”

“i don’t want it. i told you. it’s better if he’s not.”

“then explain it,” gyomei insisted. “he believes you’re the one who hates him.”

sanemi snorted, as if that was the most ridiculous thing ever. “that’d be like hating a newborn puppy because it can’t provide for itself. i don’t hate genya. but he has every reason to hate me.”