#If I take it seriously and it wasn’t meant seriously I’ll be embarrassed

[gpcwsl]

Warnings: suggestive, kissing, swearing.

Katie McCabe x Reader:

Title: Offside Secrets

MasterList

Y/N wasn’t trying to snoop. Really, she wasn’t. But when you live with someone like Katie McCabe—a whirlwind of energy and attitude—you tend to notice when something’s off.

For the past week, Katie had been unusually quiet during their downtime. She’d sit curled up on the couch, her focus laser-sharp on a small paperback book. Not her phone, not Netflix, not even one of her beloved football highlight reels. Just…a book.

Y/N had tried to let it slide, chalking it up to Katie needing some personal space. But the curiosity was eating her alive. Katie McCabe was many things—brilliant on the pitch, quick with comebacks, and fiercely loyal to her team—but a bookworm? That was new.

One morning, while Katie was out on a run, Y/N finally gave in.

The book was sitting innocently on the coffee table, its cover face down as if Katie were deliberately hiding it. Y/N glanced toward the door, listening for any sign of Katie’s return. When the coast was clear, she flipped the book over.

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. The cover featured a shirtless man holding a woman who appeared to be swooning dramatically in his arms. The back cover blurb described it as a “torrid tale of forbidden love, blazing passion, and scandalous secrets.”

“McCabe, what the hell?” Y/N muttered to herself, already stifling a laugh. She thumbed through the pages, skimming a particularly spicy passage. Her cheeks flushed, not from embarrassment, but from the sheer absurdity of imagining Katie reading this.

“Is this what you’ve been so secretive about?” Y/N whispered to the empty room.

Just as she set the book down, the door swung open. Katie burst in, her cheeks flushed from the cold morning air. Her eyes immediately landed on Y/N, who froze like a deer caught in headlights.

“What’re you doing?” Katie asked, her voice sharp.

“Nothing!” Y/N blurted, holding her hands up defensively.

Katie’s eyes narrowed. She marched over, spotted the book lying on the table, and groaned. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back her grin. “Burning Desire, huh? Didn’t peg you for the romance novel type.”

Katie snatched the book off the table, her ears turning red. “It’s not what you think.”

“Oh, really? Because what I think is that you’re secretly a sucker for swooning heroines and steamy love affairs.”

Katie glared at her. “It’s none of your business.”

“But it’s hilarious,” Y/N teased, leaning back against the couch. “Does this mean you’re gonna start writing love poems in your free time?”

Katie’s lips twitched, betraying the beginnings of a smile. “You’re such an idiot.”

“And yet, you live with me.” Y/N stood and stretched, clearly enjoying Katie’s embarrassment. “Seriously, though. This is gold. Why didn’t you tell me you were into this stuff?”

Katie hesitated, clutching the book like it was a lifeline. “Because I knew you’d take the piss out of me, just like you’re doing now.”

“Okay, fair point.” Y/N softened, realizing she might have struck a nerve. “But it’s kind of…sweet, actually. You, reading something so—what’s the word? Sentimental.”

Katie scoffed. “Don’t read too much into it. It’s just a bit of escapism.”

“Sure, sure.” Y/N smirked, already planning how to work this into their next training session.

Katie groaned again, throwing the book into her bag. “If you say one word about this to anyone, I’ll—”

“Relax,” Y/N interrupted, holding up her hands. “Your secret’s safe with me. For now.”

Katie rolled her eyes and stalked off toward her room, but Y/N could hear the faintest hint of a laugh escaping her.

As the door clicked shut, Y/N sat back down, her mind still buzzing. She hadn’t meant to tease Katie so much, but there was something endearing about seeing her so flustered. It was a side of Katie she rarely got to see—vulnerable, human, and undeniably cute.

Shaking her head, Y/N tried to push the thought away. “Get a grip,” she muttered to herself. But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

Katie had reached her limit.

Y/N had been relentless all day. Ever since she found Katie’s romance novel, she hadn’t stopped teasing her. Every sly grin, every comment about “burning passions” or “torrid desires,” had Katie’s patience wearing thin.

By the time they returned home from training, Katie was fuming—but not in the way Y/N might expect.

“Y/N,” Katie called from the kitchen as she grabbed a glass of water.

“Yeah?” Y/N called back from the living room, lounging on the couch with the smugness of someone who thought they’d won.

Katie smirked to herself, an idea forming. If Y/N wanted to play games, she’d play back—and she’d win.

She walked into the living room, leaning casually against the back of the couch. “You’ve been at it all day. Got a problem, or are you just obsessed with me?”

Y/N tilted her head, pretending to think. “Hmm, maybe a little of both.”

Katie’s smirk widened. “You know, if you’re so curious about the book, I could read you a bit. Really give you a taste of it.”

Y/N laughed, sitting up. “Oh, please. You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Katie raised an eyebrow, sauntering around the couch to sit next to her. She grabbed the book from her bag and flipped it open, her eyes scanning the pages. “Let’s see…ah, here we go.”

Clearing her throat dramatically, Katie began to read aloud:

‘“His smoldering gaze met hers, igniting a fire deep within her soul. Her breath hitched as he whispered, his voice low and full of promise, “You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel alive.”’”

Y/N froze, her eyes widening as Katie’s voice dropped into a husky tone, full of mock intensity.

“Stop,” Y/N said, holding up her hands.

Katie grinned. “What’s wrong? Isn’t this what you wanted?” She leaned closer, her voice taking on an exaggerated sultriness. “‘He traced a finger along her jawline, his touch sending shivers down her spine…’”

“Okay, okay!” Y/N interrupted, her cheeks flushing. “Point made!”

But Katie wasn’t done. She closed the book and turned to face Y/N fully, leaning an elbow on the back of the couch. Her smirk turned into something more dangerous, more…real.

“You know,” Katie said, her voice quieter now, “you’re giving me a hard time about this book, but I think you’re just scared.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Scared of what?”

“Scared you might like it if someone said those things to you.” Katie’s gaze lingered on Y/N’s face, her smirk softening into something more genuine.

Y/N’s throat went dry. She scrambled to come up with a witty comeback, but Katie’s boldness had completely thrown her off balance.

“I—uh—” Y/N stammered, looking anywhere but at Katie.

Katie leaned in just slightly, enough to make Y/N’s breath hitch. “See? You’re already blushing.”

“I am not,” Y/N mumbled, though her cheeks were undeniably warm.

Katie chuckled, leaning back and tossing the book onto the coffee table. “Alright, I’ll stop. For now. But just remember—if you’re gonna tease me, you’d better be ready to take it, too.”

Y/N sat there, stunned into silence as Katie stood and sauntered off to her room. The sound of the door clicking shut snapped her out of her daze, and she let out a shaky breath.

“Well,” Y/N muttered to herself, “that backfired spectacularly.”

From the other side of the door, Katie grinned to herself. Two could play this game—and she wasn’t planning on losing anytime soon.

The days that followed were a delicate dance of unspoken words and lingering glances. Katie and Y/N continued their routines—training sessions, shared meals, evenings spent watching television—but beneath the surface, the air was charged with a tension neither dared to address.

One evening, as they sat side by side on the couch, a romantic film playing softly in the background, Y/N couldn’t help but steal a glance at Katie. The flickering light from the screen cast shadows across her face, highlighting the curve of her smile as she watched the movie.

Y/N’s mind wandered back to the novel—the catalyst for this shift between them. She wondered if Katie had been reading it again, if the words on those pages had stirred something within her, just as they had within Y/N.

“Hey,” Y/N said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. “About that book…”

Katie turned to her, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What about it?”

Y/N hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I was thinking… maybe I judged it too quickly. Maybe there’s more to it than I realized.”

A slow smile spread across Katie’s lips. “Oh? And what brought about this change of heart?”

Y/N shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Just… thinking about what you said. About being open to new experiences.”

Katie’s gaze softened, and she reached out to place a hand over Y/N’s. “It’s just a book, Y/N. But if it made you think, then maybe it was worth all the teasing.”

Y/N looked down at their intertwined hands, her heart pounding in her chest. “Katie, I…” She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Katie’s expression grew serious, concern flickering in her eyes. “What is it?”

Y/N met her gaze, her voice trembling slightly. “I think… no, I know that I have feelings for you. More than just friendship.”

The room seemed to hold its breath as Katie processed her words. Then, slowly, a radiant smile broke across her face. “Y/N, I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

Relief washed over Y/N, and she let out a shaky laugh. “Really?”

Katie nodded, squeezing her hand gently. “Really. I didn’t want to push you, but I’ve felt the same way for a while now.”

Y/N’s heart soared, and she couldn’t help but grin. “So, what now?”

Katie leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Now, we see where this goes. Together.”

As their lips met in a tender kiss, the tension that had been building between them melted away, replaced by a warmth that promised new beginnings and uncharted territories.

The novel that had once been a source of teasing had become the catalyst for something beautiful—a love story all their own.

In the days that followed, Katie and Y/N navigated their new relationship with the same teamwork and understanding that had defined their friendship. The teasing continued, but now it was laced with affection, each joke a reminder of the journey they’d embarked on together.

One evening, as they cuddled on the couch, Y/N picked up the infamous novel and waved it playfully.

“Shall we read a chapter together?” she suggested with a grin.

Katie laughed, pulling her closer. “Only if you promise not to mock my dramatic readings.”

Y/N feigned innocence. “Who, me? I would never.”

As they settled in to read, the words on the pages took on new meaning, each passage a reflection of their own unfolding story.

And as the night wore on, they realized that sometimes, the best love stories are the ones that catch you by surprise, turning the pages of your life in ways you never expected.

Their relationship continued to blossom, both on and off the field. Teammates began to notice the subtle changes—the shared smiles, the supportive glances, the way they seemed to move in perfect harmony during matches.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling practice, their teammate Lisa approached them, a knowing smile on her face.

“You two seem… different lately,” she remarked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Katie and Y/N exchanged a glance, their cheeks flushing slightly.

“Just working on our teamwork,” Katie replied smoothly, though the corner of her mouth quirked up in a telltale smile.

Lisa chuckled, clearly unconvinced. “Well, whatever it is, keep it up. It’s doing wonders for our game.”

As she walked away, Y/N nudged Katie playfully. “Think she knows?”

Katie shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Let them wonder. As long as we know what we have, that’s all that matters.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a surge of affection for the woman beside her. “Agreed.”

As the season progressed, their bond only deepened, each victory on the field mirrored by the growth of their relationship off it. They faced challenges together, supported each other through setbacks, and celebrated each other’s successes with unwavering pride.

One evening, as they sat on the balcony of their apartment, watching the sun set over the city, Y/N turned to Katie, her expression thoughtful.

“Do you ever think about the future?” she asked softly.

Katie looked at her, her eyes filled with warmth. “All the time. And lately, those thoughts always include you.”

Y/N’s heart swelled with emotion. “Me too. I can’t imagine it any other way.”

Katie reached out, taking Y/N’s hand in hers. “Then let’s make a promise. No matter what comes our way, we’ll face it together. As partners, on and off the field.”

Y/N squeezed her hand, a smile spreading across her face. “Deal.”

[darkmatilda]

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer takes care of you after a serious accident.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: hospital, rehabilitation, neck and brain injury, nud1ty

𝐚/𝐧: this is one of the potential endings of my fanfiction "with the light off" which officialy remains open up to your own interpretation. this version written to comfort all the hearts i've broken <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 11k

Spencer felt embarrassed by how, just an hour after leaving the apartment, he already wanted to call her.

She had already occupied a near-constant presence in the back of his mind, slipping in like a shadow—elusive and playful—darting between his thoughts, flitting from one corner to another whenever he tried, even briefly, to forget about her. But now? After that night they had spent together?

Spencer knew a lot about obsession. He understood the weight of the word and was acutely aware of its gravity. Yet he couldn’t deny it—he was obsessed with her. Physical contact had always been a sensitive yet profoundly significant subject for him. He didn’t allow many people that close. 

For him, touch was the ultimate proof of closeness and trust. Intimacy bred attachment. This wasn’t about desire in its rawest form—it was something else… though he wasn’t entirely sure what. He couldn’t define the bond they shared.

He felt bored, detached from the world when she wasn’t in it, and the only thing keeping him tethered to some semblance of normality was the thought—the imagining—that at this very moment, they were breathing the same air.

He was starting to think he might be losing his mind.

He held off on calling her precisely to avoid coming across as a lunatic in her eyes. He managed to restrain himself only once he was at work, where the seriousness of his profession demanded it. In a way, though, he felt lighter. Throughout the day, he was buoyed by the thought of their upcoming meeting, the excitement it brought—and the nerves. That mixture of emotions was enough to make the entire team glance at him with curiosity.

Garcia was handing out case files, her hair recently dyed a vibrant shade of red. Rossi, instead of opening his folder like everyone else, was watching Spencer from across the table, leaning on his elbow.

“Did you win the lottery or something?” he asked, so unexpectedly that Spencer glanced around at the others, unsure who the question was meant for.

When he realized the question was directed at him, he swallowed hard. Morgan’s raised eyebrow seemed to challenge him to a duel.

“Not that I know of. Why?”

“Because you’re practically glowing, sweetheart,” Penelope chimed in with a sly smile. “Don’t think you’re getting away without telling me everything later. I’ll get it out of you, don’t you worry. But for now, let’s get started…”

They immersed themselves in the case, but a few hours later, during a brief moment of downtime, he realized he was looking for an excuse to call her. Was a simple desire to ask what she was up to reason enough?

He wondered if she was still at his apartment. He hoped she was. He knew she’d eventually have to leave to prepare for the shift she was starting later that afternoon, but he couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at him about the whole situation with her roommate’s ex-boyfriend.

Realizing he’d been staring at his phone for far too long and that he’d soon need to get back to work, he made a snap decision and called.

But no one answered.

Logically, he reasoned that mornings were probably her time to sleep. Afterward, he tried sending a text message. But by late evening, when he finally returned to his apartment, he was starting to feel genuinely worried.

The question nagged at him: could it have been about the previous night? Maybe he’d done or said something wrong, something that had put her off completely?

Slowly, he walked into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway as his eyes landed on the perfectly made bed. It definitely hadn’t looked like that when he left it.

Then his gaze fell on the slightly ajar safe, and he froze. The combination was incredibly complicated, so he must have left it open when he took out his gun and badge. Besides those items, there was one more thing inside.

He had once again fallen into the trap of keeping Dilaudid close, even though he wasn’t using it. Was it possible she found it, and that’s why she hadn’t reached out?

It wasn’t that he had lied to her about being clean. She had seen how much effort it took for him to talk about it, so she approached the subject with incredible subtlety, never asking directly, but watching him closely, carefully, yet without pressing.

If she had really found it in his safe, she might have felt betrayed. Or maybe she decided she didn’t want to get involved with someone who had such a problem. Perhaps she had seen the whole previous night as one big mistake and then decided to throw him out of her life. Spencer, though it pained him, couldn’t help but feel that he deserved it.

He sat on the bed, crushed by his own thoughts. Something didn’t sit right with the version of events he had imagined. First and foremost, she wasn’t the type of person who would turn him away because of this. Her heart ached to help others; she couldn’t ignore someone else’s troubles. Even if he had hurt her, her immense capacity for understanding would have remained intact. Empathy was imprinted on her, like a deep, unshakable mark.

Driven by a hunch, he reached for his phone to call her again. That’s when he noticed two missed calls from an unknown number, just fifteen minutes ago.

He pressed the phone to his ear, his brow furrowing in confusion as he heard the first sound on the other end… a sob?

The sound went on and on, and Spencer was too confused to utter a single word.

“Who am I talking to?” he finally asked. Unable to stop himself, he stood up. He didn’t even know what was going on or who he was talking to, but he sprang to his feet anyway. His body compelled him, his insides twisting with unpleasant spasms.

It could just as well have been some stupid prank. The problem was, it wasn’t.

“H-hey, it’s J-Jude,” a voice came from the other end. Female, shaky, and choked with sobs so severe that if he didn’t already know her name, he would never have guessed he was speaking to her roommate. He stopped pacing the room. “I-it was me…I called earlier. S-she doesn’t have any…any family, and I didn’t know…I didn’t know who to inform…I can’t handle this on my own…they just took her away again…”

It wasn’t as if the world suddenly came to a halt. It simply became both sharper and blurrier at the same time. Spencer could see that single, bright strand of hair on the pillow with perfect clarity, yet his own legs seemed out of reach. When he looked down, all he saw was darkness stretching below him. Somehow, he was still breathing.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. Later, he couldn’t explain how his voice—those first words—had sounded so composed. “W-who took her… where… and why…?

“I have no fucking idea!” she shouted, followed by a long silence during which Jude took a desperate gasp of air. “I mean, I do, I do know! They just brought her in, but... but suddenly they took her back because there was some kind of…bleeding…”

“...ding?” he blurted out, the first syllable swallowed entirely by his panic.

“No, I don’t want anything to calm me down, I am calm, can’t you tell?” Her voice grew distant, as if she’d pulled the phone away from her mouth. Then it came back, clear and pleading. “Please, come here…”

She hung up. The phone slipped from his hand as if it burned him. In a frenzy, he bent down to grab it, only to drop it again. Finally, he fell to his knees, managing at last to pick it up. As he stood, he felt as though some substance was spreading through his brain—black, toxic, and utterly destructive. Its effects left him barely tethered to reality. He could hear and see, but everything was overlaid with Jude’s words, looping in his mind like printed text on a screen.

The next thirty minutes were a blur.

How could it be logically explained that, in a state of complete detachment from the outside world, he somehow managed to figure out, based on the map of the area imprinted in his memory, which specific hospital she was in? How did his panicked, trembling hands manage to cover that distance by car without causing an accident?

The only thing he knew was that he ended up at the nearest hospital, wearing just a shirt with no outer layer. It was shocking that he even had shoes on. 

He should have been looking for the woman who had called him, demanding every bit of information she had. But somehow, instinctively, his eyes searched for someone else—a familiar face. He prayed it was all some sort of misunderstanding. Maybe he was fooling himself, hoping to spot her among the people passing by. A part of him simply refused to accept the possibility that anything could have happened to her.

Nothing had happened.

She was fine.

Her blue eyes were soaking in the surroundings, their gaze carrying that faint sparkle that always appeared at night. Maybe there was even a smile on her lips. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow himself to imagine what might have happened to her. It felt as though the universe itself should be ashamed for ever entertaining the thought of harming her.

"Are you family?" the man at reception asked. Spencer nodded. "I'm sorry, but I can't provide you with any information,"

"Just tell me, is she alive?"

"I can't…"

"Just fucking tell me…"

"They’re operating on her right now," a voice spoke from behind him. Spencer turned and blinked. Only then did he realize he was in a hospital. Before, he’d only had a goal—an urgent need to get there. The surroundings were just beginning to take shape in his mind. He had never seen this woman before, but he guessed it had to be Jude. Her face was swollen from crying, but she seemed less shaken than during their call. She had probably accepted the sedatives. "Again. First, they spent almost four hours working on her neck… they said she was stable, asleep, but then suddenly there was that bleeding… I watched them take her out of the room right in front of me…"

“Did you see her?”

Unexpectedly, she hid her face in her hands.

“I didn’t know who to call. She mentioned you a few times, and I had your number, and I didn’t know what to do…” she began explaining chaotically, as if it mattered at all. “It’s my fault, you know, all of this is my fucking fault…”

They were standing right in front of the receptionist, blocking his access to others who needed help. Spencer snapped back to the moment, pulling her a few steps aside.

“W-what did you say? That they operated on her for four hours?”

“Yes, the first time…”

So, she had been there for at least four hours. Longer, considering the time needed after surgery before visiting a patient. Pain spread across his chest. While he was wondering why she hadn’t answered his calls, coming to various conclusions, she had been fighting for her life?

He... had been at work, moving around, talking to others, living, while all of this was happening? He felt as if... as if he had betrayed her. It was absurd, even he knew that. Despite the state he was in—tragic, to be precise—he understood just how absurd that thought was. But he couldn’t stop the guilt and shame that washed over him every time he tried to imagine her on the operating table while he had been completely unaware of her condition.

“I need to sit down," Jude muttered, and after a moment, they found themselves on narrow chairs lined along the hospital walls. Spencer barely managed to force his knees to bend, his body to settle into the seat.

He was only beginning to adjust to the foreign gravity that was pressing down on him.

In his head, there was only one thought, one resolution, one desire. The only thing that could save him from losing his mind in this waiting room.

"I need to see her."

"We have to wait," Jude replied, pressing her hand to her forehead. More tears appeared in her eyes. She wasn’t just terrified, she was completely falling apart. "We... we once gave each other permission to access information about our health. You know, in case of an accident. The doctors told me everything. A neck sprain. A concussion. Two broken ribs and a broken forearm." Although her speech had been unclear earlier, when she listed the injuries, she sounded like a movie announcer.

Spencer quickly realized that these words must have been echoing in her head since they were first told to her. The same thing had been happening to him. Each word was like a blow delivered with full force, and his extensive medical knowledge wasn’t helping him avoid panic. He was too aware of the danger and too aware of the suffering her poor body must have endured.

They both squeezed their eyes shut tightly. Spencer felt as though his temples might explode. Waiting. Was there anything worse in the world than waiting? Being stuck in ignorance, teetering between uncertainty, relief, and utter despair? Feeling all of it at once?

"How did this even happen?" he asked the woman sitting next to him.

He was sure he already knew the answer to that question. She didn’t even need to say it. It was enough to see how she dropped her gaze, heavy with pain, and how tightly her jaw clenched.

“She... fell down the stairs.”

Spencer wanted to scoff at the understatement. The real version of events couldn’t pass Jude’s lips, but in some way, he considered that a blessing. If Jude had openly admitted that she had been pushed, he might have crumbled under the weight of the fury flooding him. But for now, his anger didn’t matter. Only the passing time did.

He felt as if he hadn’t taken a single breath since leaving his apartment. Leaning his head back in his seat, he endured what felt like two whole days, then glanced at his watch only to realize that exactly forty-seven seconds had passed.

Time—a relative concept. In physics and in human perception. Einstein had proven it, and so had that particular moment.

He started to fear that he might never leave the waiting room. Memories and emotions began to blur together. He formed a theory: that he had been trapped there for quite some time—weeks, perhaps. Back when another loved one had been on the operating table, and he’d been losing his mind in much the same way.

Could it be that, under the strain of this torturous waiting, he’d lost his sanity? That his brain, desperate for relief, had simply imagined everything that followed? The trip to the library that night, finding himself at her door, the string lights on the Christmas tree, the Venus flytrap, the bar, opening the door that night and seeing her on the stairwell—at once flushed from a night spent at the club and chilled from the December air?

And now that illusion had simply shattered, like a fragment of broken glass. He was back in the waiting room again, waiting, hurting too much—and yet feeling as though he had no right to. His pain was nothing compared to what she was going through. He should be doing something, anything, to make himself useful, to not succumb to the weight of his own helplessness.

When the doctor finally approached them, Spencer almost knocked over his chair in his haste to stand. The doctor, however, focused solely on Jude as he delivered the update, leaving Spencer questioning whether he even existed.

“We managed to stop the bleeding. That’s the good news,” he began, his dark eyes unreadable—at once cool and concerned, with the practiced composure characteristic of people in his profession.

“Thank God,” Jude whispered, rubbing her chest as if trying to calm the frantic beating of her heart.

Spencer, on the other hand, felt no relief. Not even a sliver.

"‘That’s good news,’" he repeated the doctor’s words, drawing the man’s gaze to him. ‘But… but is there something bad?’

That brief moment before the doctor answered felt longer than nearly the past two hours of waiting.

“Due to suspected brain swelling, we had to induce a coma.’

“What?’ Jude mouthed silently. “How… how could she be in a coma? Why? Was that necessary?’

“They needed to reduce the intracranial pressure,’ Spencer replied, the words spilling from his mouth without him even realizing he was speaking. ‘The coma prevents further damage and minimizes the brain’s oxygen consumption. But will she… how long will she…?’

“Only for a few days,’ the doctor assured him, understanding the question he couldn’t quite form. “As long as there are no further complications or additional bleeding. But I can reassure you for now: there’s no indication of that. Her condition seems stable. She was… incredibly lucky. It was a serious accident—a miracle, a sheer miracle—that she didn’t break her spine.’"

For a moment, he couldn’t utter a single word, his throat still tight, and the relief never came. He knew he wouldn’t feel it until he saw her, fully conscious and awake. Until that happened, he would grimace every time he heard the word miracle. 

"When will I be able to see her?" he asked, surprisingly calm and composed. The question was so important to him that his voice didn’t tremble even once. In fact, it was the only thing that mattered right now.

"You’ll need to wait a few hours before visiting. We have to make sure there’s no risk of a sudden deterioration in her condition. Also, only authorized individuals can visit her."

The last part of the doctor’s statement felt almost like a slap in the face.

"How many hours?" he pressed, impatience creeping into his voice. "Two? Four? Six?"

"Please, calm down," the doctor asked, making a gesture with his hand.

“Eight?”

His voice grew increasingly sharp, desperately demanding an answer. The doctor opened his mouth to respond, but Jude interrupted with a question.

"As an authorized person, can I, on behalf of the patient, allow him to visit?" she asked, catching Spencer’s gaze for a brief moment before quickly turning away. "She would want this, I know it."

The doctor shook his head in refusal, providing them with a few more details about the surgery before turning to leave. Spencer watched him leave, something in him wavering between a sigh and a snort. So they wouldn’t even let him visit her? He understood the hospital procedures and rules perfectly well, but when it came to his own case, he hated them with all his heart. They wouldn’t allow him to see someone who meant so much to him, simply because they weren’t bound by blood or a ring on his finger. A ring on his finger… maybe he should lie and say they were engaged?  Although, would it really make any difference in the eyes of the hospital staff?

Before the loose fragments in his mind began to form a plan, he noticed that Jude was staring at him. She had sat down again, pressing her back tightly against the chair's backrest. She hadn’t cried for a while now; a certain relief had settled on her face when she heard the surgery had been successful, but then the old devastation returned, stronger than ever before.

"I won’t be able to visit her," she said, her voice hollow. "Not even while she’s unconscious. And when she wakes up, look her in the eyes. Tell me, how could I do that after everything? After all of this was my fault?"

Spencer turned away and walked off.

He knew that if he didn’t, something inside him would break. He couldn’t stop the anger he felt toward Jude. From what he knew, she had repeatedly refused to report her ex-boyfriend to the police, perhaps more or less aware of the danger he posed. She had the right to do so, theoretically. But that didn’t change the fact that someone else had suffered because of her foolish decision.

In his eyes she deserved the guilt she felt.

Not knowing what to do with himself, he found a place far from her, far from anyone, where he spent the next few hours, hardly moving. Sometimes he observed the relatives of other patients in the hospital, also broken, but he had some selfish feeling that even they wouldn’t understand what he felt. He placed himself on some distant, elite orbit of suffering and felt almost embarrassed by it. 

Pain always makes sure that a person feels as lonely and misunderstood as possible in it. That is when it has the most power over them.

He kept away from the windows, the darkness outside, slowly losing its intensity, putting him into a state of shock and contemplation. Maybe time was a relative concept, but that didn’t change the fact that it existed. Somewhere far away, there was light beyond this waiting room.

For some time now, he had been occupied with a certain task. He was aware of the hours passing and how, with them, his desperation grew. He felt he would go mad if he didn’t see her. The designated time during which the patient should be ensured complete rest after surgery had ended, yet he knew they wouldn’t let him in to see her. But he had a brain for a reason, right?"

He found the room where everything that mattered to him at that moment was. A young doctor was just leaving.

"Excuse me, ma'am,” he approached her politely, trying to appear calm, though his appearance and trembling hands clearly suggested otherwise. “I need to visit this patient.”

“Are you a relative?”

“No, actually…” He knew this was a desperate move and resorting to a lie, but he didn’t care. What was morality in his situation? Just a word. He reached for the badge he had with him and cleared his throat. “I’m with the FBI. I’ve been assigned to see this particular patient; it’s a matter that cannot be delayed."

Believe it or not, but people often lost their minds at the mere mention of the FBI. Spencer suspected that such a young doctor might have some gaps in experience and not know what procedures were in place in such a situation.

The surprised woman took a half step back.

“But she’s in a coma…” she said uncertainly, turning toward the room. “Are you sure it’s this patient?”

“Absolutely. And as I said, there’s no time to waste.”

He didn’t put his badge away, still holding it raised, with a serious expression on his face, as if he were interrogating someone. It was clear she was torn with doubt, but fortunately for him, she decided to give in without consulting the decision.

Spencer almost ran into the room, unable to hold back his impatience any longer. At first, he felt as if in a dream, one where you achieve your greatest goal. However, it quickly turned into a nightmare, all because of what he saw.

Whatever he had imagined, he was not prepared for this sight. 

Especially because before he even noticed her face, the face he was so desperate to see, he first noticed everything else surrounding it. The hospital equipment, the machines and devices monitoring her vital signs. The wide orthopedic collar tight around her neck. The sterile whiteness of it all, obscuring her and making her almost disappear against its backdrop. It wasn’t until he approached the bed, his legs weak and unsteady, that he started to look at her, but again, not specifically at her, but at the injuries. The sight of swollen temples, the sunken eyes, pale and dry lips, skin like a sheet of paper. Every injury on her body caused him unimaginable pain, so intense it almost stopped him from breathing. He felt so much anger and injustice that she had to go through this that he almost wanted to fall to his knees and apologize to her, beg for forgiveness. For what? He couldn’t decide. It wasn’t a need driven by logic, it was something deep inside him.

And that’s what he did, even though there was a place beside the bed where he could sit. He slowly knelt down, his hands touching the edge of the bed, but not her body. After all, he wasn’t about to risk causing her any pain due to his lack of control. But he had such an overwhelming desire to take her hand, the one whose fingers shyly peeked out from under the cast.

"I should have gone with you," he said, after about five minutes spent in complete silence, undisturbed even by his breath, which he was holding back. "I should have. Walked you to the door and made sure you got inside safely. I’m sorry…"

He felt that with his pitiful apologies, he was disturbing her peace. She needed it to fully rest. So, he fell silent again, alternating between looking at her with furrowed brows in tender concern and resting his forehead against the edge of the bed whenever the sight became too painful. While before, time seemed to crawl at the slowest possible pace, now it was racing forward wildly.

In his perception, barely a minute had passed when someone’s presence appeared behind him. He turned over his shoulder, noticing the young nurse who had let him in, and it took him a long time before he even realized it. After all, he had lied to her, saying it was some professional matter, yet she had found him kneeling by the hospital bed.

He quickly got to his feet, nervously rubbing his face.

“For the patient’s well-being, no visits should last longer than twenty minutes,” the woman said surprisingly gently, leaning slightly against the door with her shoulder. An unidentified expression lingered in her eyes, making them seem...warm.

He didn’t answer, just nodded. He no longer felt the need to play that little charade that had helped him get inside. He allowed himself one last long moment, looking at her face, peaceful in sleep. He passed the doctor in the doorway, feeling her eyes turn to him, and he did the same, out of curiosity. She smiled, sadly and with compassion.

"This had nothing to do with any FBI assignment, right?”

Her understanding seemed almost touching. However, Spencer, caught in the moment, quickly withdrew, once again making his way down the hospital corridors, now completely unsure of what to do with himself. He leaned against one of the walls, slowly feeling the fatigue from the entire night spent waiting to see her. He found his phone in his pocket, realized it was already morning, and that… Hotch had called him.

It was a quick collision with the outside world. He called back, as nothing else came to mind that he could focus on.

"Reid," the serious voice of his boss came through on the other end. "Why aren’t you at work, and why aren’t you answering?"

He needed to take a breath before he could respond.

"Sorry, Hotch," he said, trying not to sound weak, but that’s exactly how he sounded. Weak, a little pitiful, and on the verge of exhaustion. "Something... something really important happened, and... I... I won’t be able to come in today..."

Spencer realized he had no idea how to explain himself in this situation.

"I can’t remember the last day you were even late. What happened?" He didn’t answer. "Where are you?" Silence. "Spencer."

"It’s... a personal matter."

There was a brief silence from his boss, and Spencer could almost imagine how he furrowed his dark brows in confusion.

"I understand." His voice was tense, but not with disapproval, which surprised Spencer. More with... concern. Had he managed to read the seriousness of the situation just from his voice? Probably, after all, he was the best profiler Spencer knew. "You’ll need to explain later, but for now... take care of yourself. Do you need any help?”

He assured him insincerely that everything was fine and found an empty chair to sit in, hunched over. A strong pressure formed in his head, amplified by the helplessness and uncertainty about what he should do next. She was in a coma, and according to the doctor, she would be in it for the next few days. And what was he supposed to do during that time? He felt that physically, he could spend another hundred hours on that specific chair. Occasionally stretching his legs. It was his plan, one that seemed more real with every passing minute. At least, until a figure cast its shadow over him.

"Reid," a familiar voice spoke.

He looked up, surprised, at Morgan. His mouth was slightly open in confusion, his forehead deeply furrowed.

"What are you doing here?"

"How... how did you know where I was?" That was the first thing that came to his mind.

"Penelope. How she knew, I have no idea, but I’m starting to suspect that her joke about having us all chipped wasn’t really a joke. But anyway, what’s going on? Hotch told me you called, and you sounded... unsettling."

His friend was watching him closely. His wrinkled clothes, his tired face.

"So... Hotch sent you to find me?"

"Reid, you’re our friend. Did you really think we wouldn’t be worried about you?"

Spencer lowered his head, listening to his words. Derek was silent for a moment, his hands resting on his hips, his tense face scanning the surroundings. After a while, he focused his gaze back on him.

"Who is the person you’re visiting?"

He hesitated before answering, not because he didn’t want to share the information, but because he wasn’t sure how to refer to her. What should he call her? After all, it wasn’t like they were in an official relationship, and the word friend seemed to leave something unsaid.

“Someone... someone very important to me. She had an accident. She has... a cervical spine injury, and the doctors, suspecting brain swelling, decided to put her into a coma for a while.”

Morgan's eyes widened.

“Damn, Reid. I’m so... I’m so sorry.”

He sat down on the empty chair beside him, his face still showing shock. Exhausted, Spencer simply rested his head on his knees, no longer able to keep his posture straight. He felt drained, yet at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to leave—couldn’t leave her…

Morgan’s hand fell onto his back, and finally, then sighed.

“Come here, man.”

With a firm pull, he drew him into an embrace.

Spencer found it hard to admit, even to himself, how much he needed this. No words left their mouths for a long while; only that brotherly, supportive embrace remained between them.

“Have you seen her?” Morgan asked after a while.

He confirmed, but didn’t reveal the circumstances. His friend paused for a moment, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

“Okay, listen to me. You need to get back to yourself.”

Spencer scoffed and shook his head, ready to argue.

“Let me finish. I know you don’t want to leave her right now, but with all due respect, you look like death. You need to eat and get some sleep.”

“I can’t,” Spencer replied firmly.

“You’re going to collapse soon. You said she’ll be in a coma for a few days. You won’t make it sitting here, think realistically. No one’s asking you to go back to work, you just need to rest.” He looked at him seriously, knowing how hard it would be to convince him. Finally, he sighed once more. “Do it for her, alright? Do you really think she’d want you to wear yourself out like this?”

He had no ready answer for that. Well, he did, but it sounded like no, she wouldn’t want that.

“I’ll take you home. For God’s sake, you came here without even a coat?”

It's a strange feeling to let someone take care of you. Completely. Derek not only drove him to his apartment but also came inside with him. There was no emotional discussion between them, which he found to be a relief. Silent support, he thought.

His relationship with the other team members had been tested after Emily's death—or at least, that's what he had thought up until now. He had begun isolating himself, not wanting to intrude on their grief or burden them with his own problems. But in reality—something he hadn’t seen until now—it had been the opposite. It strengthened their bond.

The next few days revolved mainly around hospital visits. Somehow, he had managed to gain visiting rights, and the time spent by her side filled him with a certain sense of calm. He could see how stable her vital signs were, and he clung to the doctors’ reassurances that she would regain consciousness in just a few days.

He once read a series of articles and interviews with people who had been in comas. Their accounts sometimes contradicted medical facts and often included embellishments, but a significant number of them mentioned remembering the voices of loved ones and certain sounds.

He didn’t want her to remember only the sounds of medical equipment from this period. But he also wasn’t sure what he could talk to her about. Would she want to hear about the overly salted carbonara that Garcia had forced an entire pot of on him? Or about the abstract mural being painted across from his apartment—something he was sure she would have liked?

In the end, he decided to read to her, though choosing what to read proved challenging. Sleeping Beauty seemed too ironic, even though she would probably laugh about it later. She had once told him Girl, Interrupted was her favorite book, but its hospital setting made him suspect she might prefer something that let her escape this place, even if only in her imagination. The Silence of the Lambs referenced one of their past conversations, but if a doctor overheard him reading it to her, he would surely be banned from visiting altogether.

“All right,” he began one day, sitting down in the chair by her bed. “I know you’re not a big fan of fantasy. And yes, you’ll have every right to call me out on this when you wake up. But still, I hope you’ll like it.”

Arabian Nights was a collection of tales and stories originating from the Middle East, India, and Persia. Somehow, he assumed that the mysterious, often nocturnal atmosphere might resonate with her, even soothe her. After all, night had always been her favorite time of day—the backdrop to so much of her life.

That day, as he was about to leave, he leaned slightly over her bed, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"Tomorrow, I'll read you a romance, how does that sound? But I’ll have to go to the bookstore because, despite your beliefs, I don’t have any in my collection. I wish I’d had more time to get to know your reading preferences better."

During none of his previous visits had he touched her, afraid it might disturb her peace in some negative way. Besides... in the state she was in, she looked so fragile and delicate that he feared even the slightest touch could hurt her. But that time, he simply couldn’t hold back. After a long internal struggle, he placed a very brief kiss on her forehead.

Spencer couldn’t keep his promise. While he did buy a romance novel recommended to him with enthusiasm by a young bookstore clerk, he never had the chance to read it to her.

The next day, he received a message. 

She had woken up. 

*

You didn’t remember much.

Only fragmented scraps. The memories began with a brief moment of complete physical helplessness, a terrible pain in your neck, and a series of flashing lights mingling with raised voices—even shouting. Then came silence, vile and terrifying.

But that wasn’t the end. Something came after the silence.

Softly spoken stories. For some reason, they were comforting. In your mind, only a few blurred images remained—no clear events or words. What you remembered most was that soothing, calm voice. It felt like an embrace, like warm bedding, the first rays of cosmic light piercing through clouds, or the gentle chill of evening air.

It was… beautiful. But it couldn’t last forever. After an indeterminate amount of time, your body decided to reject that comfort and tried to open its eyes. It was an excruciating effort. You sighed with the strain. The first colors and surreal shapes began to appear before you. Slowly, you started to become aware of your existence, yet at the same time, you felt suspended somewhere outside your body and mind—alone and terrified.

The sensations were both faint and overwhelmingly intense, making you want to hide, to somehow cut yourself off from them. Yet you were equally afraid to close your eyes again. You muttered things that made no sense. You remained in this panicked state until two tiny brown points hovered above you, widening with concern. Only then were you able to calm down—at least enough to stop straining your body with attempts to move. Attempts, because your body seemed entirely unwilling to follow your commands.

The fear buried itself deep within you, drilling into your chest. At first, it suffocated you, but eventually, it began to weaken and fade.

This was how the first hours after waking from the coma unfolded.

Weakness, disorientation, mumbling, pain, discomfort, and light sensitivity.

It took a long time before you regained awareness of being in a hospital. Even more time passed before you remembered why. And then, your own condition and state.

You were so incredibly weak that it filled you with disgust, terrified by how much effort even the smallest movement required—like the twitch of a finger or the blink of an eye. Frustrated by it all, you cried, and he cried too. But his tears were born of relief and joy.

Those two specific emotions reached you the latest—only after they transferred you to a different ward, and your thoughts began to clear. Relief and joy. Hand in hand with fear and anxiety. 

It felt so unreal, yet it was real—real like nothing else, and it held you tightly, exactly the way you needed it to.

*

Spencer was aware that her awakening was just another step in a very long journey.

His medical knowledge, modestly speaking, was fairly extensive, and he understood the gravity of the injuries she had sustained. Their first meeting after she had opened her eyes for the first time was nothing like a scene from a movie. She was confused, still drowsy, and as she slowly started to comprehend everything, she was primarily terrified. Her body, after the time spent in the coma, though brief, was extremely weak, and every little movement exhausted her as though she had just run a marathon.

The fear on her face pierced his chest.

He had the impression that none of the words he spoke, almost whispered in an attempt to calm her, were having any effect.

"I... I can't move," she stammered as one of the first things she said. Her eyes intensely focused on his face, searching for safety in it, and he feared he wouldn't be able to provide it for her.

"It's just temporary," he reassured her gently, leaning over her bed and trying to smile, but it came out uncertain, he was too worried about her condition. "The doctors say so, and that's the truth. Your body is just very weak right now."

"Will... will it be like this forever?"

"No, no, it will pass. I promise, it will pass," he nodded fervently. She hesitated and took a breath, as though discovering an entirely new action. But as soon as she did, out of fear, it became fast and irregular. He was terrified that his touch might cause her pain, but he didn't know what else he could do to help her. Gently, as gently as he could, he placed his hand on her cheek, barely grazing it with his thumb. "You'll feel better soon. Really, it won’t be long now. For now... just don’t overexert yourself, please, breathe."

At first, she flinched. He wanted to withdraw his hand as quickly as possible, but then he felt her press her face against it, almost nuzzling into it. A shy tear danced in one of her eyes, barely noticeable.

"It’s good to see you," she said after a brief silence, a soft sigh escaping her lips—almost like a laugh, though it didn’t quite make it. Her breath was still shallow and uneven, but with each passing moment, it seemed to steady as he held her close.

And in that moment, seeing her like that, feeling her presence so close, a smile spread across his face—a smile so genuine, so long-awaited—and with it came the tears he’d been holding back for what felt like forever.

"I feel the same," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You have no idea how much."

*

The orthopedic collar pissed you off like nothing else.

It wasn’t even the discomfort that bothered you, it was just... the collar was such a painful reminder of your condition, a testament to what you had been through. And you were supposed to wear it for another six to eight weeks.

Two weeks after waking from the coma, preparations for leaving the hospital were beginning. The risk of brain swelling had subsided, the injuries were healing, and the concussion still made its presence known, but the pain was no longer as intense. You could even have a normal conversation, which you seized almost immediately, striking up a chat with the teenage girl in the bed next to you, her sad expression tugging at your heart.

Few people visited you; you preferred that the two most important ones could spend as much time with you as possible, rather than inviting coworkers or acquaintances you hadn’t spoken to in months. The two most important people.

Spencer had been with you since the moment you woke up, and as the doctor confessed to you with a small smile, he had also stayed by your side while you were in a coma. You were in shock. Not because he had done it—it made perfect sense, given his caring nature. The shock came from the simple fact that one person could care so deeply about another, about you.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that the moments when he visited you became your favorite part of the entire day. And not just because they revolved around checking your condition, tests, and the first, incredibly light rehabilitation exercises. You simply found yourself waiting for the moment he would appear in that doorway again, holding his coat in hand, smiling.

"Hello, handsome stranger," you greeted him one day, the first day you were starting to feel better.

 Spencer stopped at the sound of that term, tilting his head with an even wider smile.

 "How else did I used to call you?" you mused aloud. "Ah, I used to call you Mr. Mysterious. But I suppose that's no longer fitting, you smile too much to seem mysterious."

 "Because I have a reason," he replied, stopping beside your bed and glancing at the flowers placed there, the ones that had greeted you when you woke up that day. "But in that case, 'Handsome stranger' doesn’t fit either, since you know me now."

"But you are handsome. Half of it fits, so I have the right to call you that. Who... who sent me these flowers?"

"Better question would be, who didn’t send you those?" he muttered, referring to their large number. You could only admire them—the beautiful, colorful arrangements—but you hadn’t had the chance to read the notes and messages attached. Spencer glanced at one of them, his smile fading, though not in a bad way... somehow, the expression that appeared on his face was even more pleasing than his smile. "This... this one’s from my team."

You were simply speechless.

 "They... they even know I exist?"

 "Of course they do, how could they not?" Spencer paused for a moment, looking at you thoughtfully. "They... they were with me the whole time you were in a coma. They helped me keep my head together."

 "Don’t exaggerate," you tried to dispel the sudden serious mood. You didn’t want to delude yourself into thinking he had been that worried about you during that time. 

 "It’s not an exaggeration," he replied briefly and seriously, his face almost motionless.

For a moment, you fell silent, your hands resting on the blanket in front of you.

 "Sorry, Spencer. I just realized I’ve never thanked you for this..."

"What?" he asked, surprised, his brows furrowing. "This isn’t something you have to thank me for..."

"But I feel like I have to. This... this isn’t some small, silly favor. You really did so much for me... I still don’t fully understand why..."

 "You don’t understand why?"

"Yeah," you sighed uncertainly, not sure how to put it into words. "Don’t get me wrong... I’m so grateful to you, it’s just... look at it this way. We didn’t know each other that long, we saw each other rarely. We slept together once. It’s not like you were…obligated to help me."

"I didn’t have to be obligated to do it," he said after a moment of hesitation, circling your bed and sitting on the edge, just barely touching it. "And I didn’t have to know you for years. I just wanted to do it because of how much I cared about you. And if that explanation doesn’t convince you... then..." He swallowed hard. "Remember, you were there for me during one of the worst moments of my life."

“It’s not the same...”

 “Oh, but it is. For me, it is. But I don’t want you to think that I was there for you because I felt like I owed you something. Or that I had to... I don’t know... repay you in some way. That’s not it at all.”

You didn’t answer, something tight gripped your throat. You just tilted your head, overwhelmed with emotion, speechless. The only thing you truly wanted to do was stretch out your arms and drape them around his neck, resting your chin on his shoulder. Spencer sighed, surprised and tense. It wasn’t until a brief moment passed that his hands gently touched your back.

“How much longer are you going to act like I’m made of glass?” you asked.

You knew his caution was justified, but Jesus. You just really wanted to hug him properly.

“Probably forever,” he replied, to which you rolled your eyes.

He was the one to break the hug, but in compensation, he quickly kissed the top of your head. You leaned back against the bed, feeling a pleasant sensation in your stomach. Spencer returned to the flowers to tell you who had sent them all.

“So these are from my team,” he picked up the lost thread, pointing to the arrangement of white and pink carnations. He chuckled. “And I’m pretty sure Penelope picked them out, not just because her name is listed first. White represents perseverance and strength. Pink stands for admiration and respect.”

“That’s really thoughtful. And beautiful. I’ll have to thank them. And these tulips?”

Spencer took the note attached to the mentioned flowers between his fingers.

“From... Jerry.”

“What? My husband sent me flowers?”

 “What?” He jerked his head up in surprise.

You laughed so hard at the look on his face that it made you wince in your ribs.

 “I’m fucking kidding, you fool,” you replied, clutching your side with a groan. “Jerry is the librarian. You should know him. He once asked me what flowers he should buy for his wife, and I suggested yellow tulips. By the way, it's so nice of him”.

You said it affectionately, but it sounded incredibly weak. Along with the pain in your ribs, a headache joined in, and suddenly all the energy you'd had earlier evaporated.

“What's happening? Should I call a doctor?”

“No,” you shook your head in refusal. “I just need to lie down for a moment. Come here.”

Spencer followed your request and sat beside your bed, his body a little stiff, as if in guilt.

"I'm sorry I made you laugh."

"That's probably the strangest thing you could apologize for," you muttered, lying down in the position that was best for your neck, one you almost hated as much as the orthopedic collar. "Well, I guess I could come up with something stranger. Sorry I left that million dollars in your nightstand. It won't happen again."

"I'm not sure if this kind of chatter is particularly good for your condition."

"It helps me mentally, and that's what matters most. Besides, stop complaining."

"How could I possibly dare?"

He fell silent, simply watching you with quiet concern. You closed your eyes for a moment, unsure if you might accidentally drift off. After spending a week in a coma, your sleep routine had become completely erratic. You slept through the nights, mostly because there was little else to do, and you didn’t want to disturb the other patients in the ward. During the day, Spencer would visit, and you wanted to be as rested as possible when he was around.

When he wasn’t there, you sometimes napped during the day as well. According to the doctors, it was one of the best things you could do for your recovery—sleep and rest as much as your body needed.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked.

You hesitated for a long moment, because yes, something was weighing heavily on your mind. Had he guessed, or had he read it on your face?

“It’s just…” you began with a sigh. “You know Jude barely visits me? I mean, she shows up every day, but… she’s so tense and distant when she’s here. She doesn’t say much, and she won’t look me in the eyes.”

"She’s blaming herself," Spencer said softly.

“God, that’s so stupid,” you muttered.

You had a strange relationship with the accident. You thought about it as little as possible, keeping it at arm’s length. You knew Richard had been arrested, but you didn’t want to know the details of his sentencing. In no way did you see any of it as Jude’s fault, and it hurt you deeply to think that she did.

You spent a quiet moment together before Spencer leaned over you again, intending to kiss your forehead.

“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to go now,” he said, to which you nodded in understanding.

But then you shifted your head, pulling back just enough to stop him from brushing his lips against your forehead. He looked at you, puzzled, since you’d never minded it before.

This time, though, you wanted him to kiss you on the lips.

He kissed you slowly. You had almost forgotten how he tasted.

After that, you didn’t bother opening your eyes again. You let yourself imagine that he wasn’t leaving at all, and with that comforting thought, you drifted off to sleep.

*

Spencer had felt strange since the morning.

 Energized and excited. In the absolute best possible way.

That day, he could finally take her home. Well, to his apartment. She needed someone to take care of her, and he felt honored to be that person.

The day before, he had made a very important, yet difficult decision. He invited JJ over and confessed everything to her—about the past few weeks and his struggles with relapsing into addiction. He needed to rid himself of that burden. Besides, he had promised himself that as long as she was living with him, not even the smallest dose of Dilaudid would find its way inside. Never again.

In his worst moments, he imagined that his friend would react with disgust—pure, painful disgust—and push him away. Instead, her eyes filled with something strange the moment he began to speak about how he had felt after Emily's death. Over and over, she whispered apologies, as though she were the one responsible for it.

He still missed Emily, of course, and he knew he would always miss her. That was just the way of things—people left, and it was up to you to decide whether you would remember them with heartbreaking despair or with a wistful sigh. In fact, these were merely two ends of the same spectrum, and it was very easy to get stuck at the beginning, unable to move forward.

She was surprisingly quiet in the car and seemed depressed. Actually, it was hard not to blame her. She had spent a long time in the hospital, gotten used to that routine, and the change made her feel lost. Sitting in the passenger seat, she kept her gaze fixed ahead, but not on the road. She couldn’t see where they were headed, which made it difficult for Spencer to tell her something… at least important.

 When they stopped, she furrowed her brow in surprise.

 “Why are we here?”

They were parked under his apartment, and she had been under the impression they were heading to her place.

 “Sorry, I should’ve told you earlier, I really apologize,” Spencer blurted out in one breath, chaotically. “I absolutely realize that this is like putting you in a situation you didn’t expect, but… but when you were in the hospital, Jude found herself a new roommate. She didn’t really know how to tell you, but she had to do it because she couldn’t afford the rent on her own.”

For a long moment, she stared at him in silence, her face a mixture of shock, followed by understanding. She took a deep breath.

 “Okay,” she muttered. “I understand her, I just… I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me this herself.”

Their relationship still remained deeply complicated, put to the test by guilt. Spencer couldn’t say much about it. It was something between the two of them, and he hardly knew Jude at all.

 “I’m also sorry for asking you this so late,” he continued after a moment. “But… you can’t live alone, you know that. Someone… someone needs to be with you over the next few weeks and… I’m willing to be that person.”

Her lips remained slightly parted for a moment.

“You want… no, wait, you want me to move in with you?” It was clearly a rhetorical question, because before he could answer, she started shaking her head. “Spencer, I can’t. I can’t be that burden for you.”

“A burden? You’re not…”

“But I will be. In the next few weeks, I definitely will be.”

He took his hands off the steering wheel, placing them loosely on his knees.

“Can you… can you look at me for a moment?” he asked.

It took a moment before she hesitantly met his gaze. Her eyes were filled with embarrassed tears, tears full of unjust shame. Seeing this, pain spread through his chest.

“If the accident hadn’t happened, would you want to live with me?”

 Her lips remained pressed together, and she sighed.

 “It’s a big decision. Aside from the fact that if it weren’t for the accident, I wouldn’t even have to consider this option…”

“I just want to know if you would want to. Don’t think of it as an option, just as… a completely normal, life decision. Do you think you’d be able to handle having me around every day?”

She couldn’t help it, and her lips curled into a slight smile.

“We could try,” she finally replied.

Spencer straightened his arms.

“In that case, let’s go inside.”

 “No, wait, it’s not that simple! My opinion shouldn’t matter; it’s you who needs to think about whether you want this…”

 “I do.”

She snorted, resigned, not knowing what else to say.

“I can’t even tie my own shoes,” she tried one last time.

“I’ll gladly do it for you. What’s more, I know all kinds of knots. Simple, sailor’s, Chinese…”

“Spencer Reid, you’re impossible.”

For the rest of the day, she tried every possible way to talk him out of his decision. But when she finally accepted it, she struggled to accept his help with tasks she couldn’t do on her own.

 It wasn’t until later that he realized how much she had been pretending in the hospital. He had only seen her for a fraction of her day, and she seemed so positive then. But this temporary disability had really taken a toll on her mentally. He could repeat and assure her, completely sincerely, that she wasn’t a burden to him, but deep down, she still believed otherwise.

So, when two days later, she timidly appeared in the bedroom doorway with the question of whether he could help her wash her hair, Spencer felt like he had won the lottery.

“Sure,” he agreed, probably a bit too enthusiastically, jumping to his feet so quickly that he almost tripped.

She pretended not to notice.

In the bathroom, he slowly helped her pull the shirt over her head, careful not to catch it on the collar still around her neck or accidentally cause her any pain. 

“Be careful not to tilt your head too much, okay?” he asked, wetting her hair with the showerhead. She closed her eyes when a few drops of water splashed onto them. “Sorry!”

“For god's sake, Spencer, you're doing it more carefully than I would have done myself.”

It was true; he was acting as if he were performing some task at work that required absolute precision. He shrugged, massaging the strawberry shampoo into her hair. Foam quickly appeared, smelling sweet.

Suddenly, her hands tightened around the front of his shirt.

“Sorry,” she whispered, loosening her grip. “I got a little dizzy.”

Spencer immediately pressed his hands, still covered in shampoo, to her waist, afraid she might fall. He stared at her face for a long moment, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

And just then, her body suddenly went limp, falling forward.

Terrified, he let out a strangled cry.

“Hold on, please, don’t fall!” he kept repeating, doing everything he could to keep her upright.

Her hands hung limply on his shoulders, the foam and water soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t care at all.

“I’m right here, hold on to me as much as you can. C-c-can you hear me at all?”

He wondered whether it would be better to stand her up or lay her down while he could get to the phone and call an ambulance, when suddenly her weak touch grew stronger, and she let out a soft groan.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologizing. I’m still holding you, can you hear me?”

His heart was pounding incredibly fast as she gently pulled her head away from his chest. He, of course, didn’t let her stand on her own, constantly supporting her body, protecting her from a fall that could be disastrous.

Together, they left the shower cabin, her hair still covered in foam.

“Are you aware that this is how it’s going to look now?” she asked seriously.

Completely unfazed, he wiped the foam from her forehead, which was dangerously close to her eyes.

“I’d rather have you lose consciousness in my bathroom, right next to me, than risk… I don’t know, cracking your head open.”

For a moment, she was silent, the color beginning to return to her pale face, her gaze becoming more alert. He had a strange feeling that she was about to start crying, and since he really didn’t want that, he pulled her close again, in his usual protective gesture. Everything around them smelled of strawberries.

“Do you really have to be this good?”

Spencer snorted.

“I’m afraid it’s just my curse.”

*

“Are these people really arguing about whether a cucumber is a fruit or a vegetable?”

Sitting on the couch, you jumped when a voice spoke right behind you. At the last second, you caught your laptop before it slipped off your lap. You had been reading some absurd discussion on an online forum you stumbled upon completely by accident. And yes, these users were indeed arguing about whether a cucumber is a fruit or a vegetable.

“Damn it, Spencer!” you shouted, putting your hand over your heart, which was pounding in an agitated rhythm. You looked at your boyfriend with a scowl. “You almost gave me a heart attack. How is it possible I didn’t hear you come in?”

He shrugged. Leaning his elbows on the back of the couch, the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt revealed the skin of his forearms. In that position, he had a perfect view of the screen on your laptop. He had just returned from work, a rainy July evening, his hair slightly damp.

“I wasn’t sneaking around. You must’ve just been lost in thought. Want to tell me what’s occupying that beautiful mind of yours?” He leaned in to place a kiss on your temple.

“Beautiful mind, huh?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Just a few days ago, you told me that if a 19th-century priest heard even one thought from my head, he’d go into anaphylactic shock. Whatever that was supposed to mean.”

"In a big simplification, what I meant is that even though I love you, sometimes your way of thinking scares me."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"By the way, I bought land for Alexander."

Alexander was your new flycatcher, which had grown so much that it completely prevented the other flowers on the windowsill from growing. Due to its conqueror tendencies, you decided to name it after one of them.

"Do you want to repot it into a new pot now...?"

"No. Now you need to come to me."

You set the laptop aside and waited for him to take a seat on the couch. Before fully snuggling into him, you untied and removed the tie from his neck, then unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, just the way you liked.

You sighed almost instantly; his body was more comfortable than a pillow. Warm, with your favorite scent. You rested your head on his chest as his fingers gently combed through your hair.

In the first few weeks after you were discharged from the hospital, you couldn’t even sleep in the same bed. There was a risk that, in his sleep, he might accidentally bump into your neck and cause damage. Spencer enforced that rule strictly, as he did with every precaution related to your health.

Six months had passed since the accident, and for the past four months, you hadn’t worn a neck brace or needed help with daily tasks. But that didn’t change the fact that, sometimes, when you showered together, he would wash your hair just like he used to. Anyway, you were still attending rehabilitation and would need to for a long time, but despite that, you felt like you had fully returned to normal life.

You lifted yourself slightly to look at his face.

"I was walking to the bar today," you began.

You’d been considering going back to work for a while now, and the doctors had assured you there was no reason you couldn’t. You wanted something to occupy your hands and craved the sense of purpose that came with a task. You’d mentioned it to Spencer long ago, so he didn’t seem surprised when you brought it up.

"And? Will they take you back?"

"No. I mean, it’s not that they don’t want to, I just didn’t get there. That’s why I said I was walking and not that I went to a bar. Are you following?"

"I'm trying."

"So, listen to this. I took the subway and got off at that station near the room I used to rent."

The landlord had asked for the keys back shortly after your accident. Your arrangement had been that, in exchange for using the space, you cleaned it daily. Of course, you hadn’t been able to keep up with that anymore.

"...And I don't know, I was overwhelmed by this strange feeling, like I wanted to go back to it. Helping people."

"You help people all the time," Spencer reminded you. "All our neighbors come to you to vent about everything happening in their lives."

"That's true, but I mean, you know, professional help," you said, taking a deeper breath. You couldn't decide whether you were more excited or nervous about the decision. "I've been thinking about going back to uni, Spencer."

He straightened up, almost causing you to slide off his chest. Filled with tension, you watched his reaction closely. You’d spent the entire day wondering what he might say. Would he share your enthusiasm and support your plans, or would he try to talk you out of it, reasoning that you’d dropped out of school once and might not manage it again?

These thoughts were incredibly silly. Spencer—knowledge-obsessed, ever-curious Spencer—would never say something like that.

Instead, he pulled you into a tight embrace, whispering how incredible the idea was. You melted into it completely, feeling more elated than ever and unable to stop thinking about the crazy chain of cause and effect that had led to this specific moment, this particular relationship, and above all, this exact happiness. 

do you accept this overly sweet ending as my apology? :> tagging: @nightfullofparadox @lillaberry @fortheloveofgubler @opheliahotchner @cowboy1ikereid @penelopegarciaismygf

sorry if i forgot about someone!

[sanjisleggy]

let your husband help you (shanks x reader)

eq: HELLO HELLO, GOD I DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD YOUR REQUESTS OPEN, I LOVE YOUR WRITING OF SHANKS, I LOVE WHEN THEY PUT READER AS SHANKS' WIFE AHHH‼️‼️‼️‼️ something about shanks, with a fem!reader (if possible) that has wings and sometimes the wings with feathers require molting and there are areas that cannot be reached closer to the back and requires help to remove the loose feathers

a/n: (i am playing valorant as i write this help) ty for the request anon! :D the enthusiasm is very endearing ;;0;; hope you enjoy reading! also man i love writing for Shanks :3c

contents: a bit of angst (fem!reader is having a hard time), descriptions of itchiness and pain, comfort, fluff :D, a tad bit suggestive bc it’s Shanks

wc. 1.2k

wanna be on my taglist?

i.

these past few weeks have been torture. today especially so.

alone in your bedroom aboard the Red Force you writhe in itchiness and pain as your back aches in a way it hasn’t in a long time. lying face-down on your bed, you feel your wings twitch and tremble as you contort your arms to reach behind you as far as humanly possible; only to groan in defeat when the most you can do is brush the offending feathers with your fingertips.

for days now a small part of your brain has been nagging at you to go get Shanks for the sake of your poor back and wings but you’ve heard from your crewmates how busy he’s been so you’ve pushed the urge aside. now, though, the idea has forced its way to the forefront of your mind out of desperation, no doubt.

holding back a sob of frustration that threatens to make its way out of your throat, you nuzzle your face into your husband’s pillow, hoping that his scent can serve as a distraction of some kind. more than anything though, it simply acts as a poor placeholder for the real thing and only makes your aching heart (and wings) yearn for him even more.

“c’mon, (Y/N), don’t be shy,” his gentle voice called from outside the utility closet in which you’d chosen to hide–away from him. you felt your face heat up at Shanks’ persistence to help with something he wasn’t even totally aware of; he just knew you were in pain so he had to help.

“it’s okay, i can deal with it myself,” you lied, wincing when one of your wings brushed against a shelf behind you. most of the molting feathers had already been dealt with but your wings had grown a lot since the last time you molted and now they were far too big for your hands to reach. “just leave me alone.”

“if you don’t tell me what’s up, i’ll tell Rayleigh.”

“no!” you protested instantly. as much as you trusted the first mate of your crew with your life, this was far too embarrassing to get him involved. “if you tell anyone i’ll leave the crew, you asshole.”

you had meant it only as a false threat but the sudden silence told you Shanks took it a bit more seriously than you thought he would.

“okay, fine,” he replied and you could hear the pout on his face. “i just wanna help. there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. you know you can trust me to take care of you.”

a particularly sharp pain shoots through your spine from your right wing and the whine of discomfort slips past your lips before you can help yourself. too far gone to care about anyone hearing from outside your quarters, you let yourself sob aloud, the relief from crying doing little to ease your discomfort. 

the immense helplessness of your situation makes you realise how pampered you’ve been all these years. how lucky you are to have had such a loving friend-turned-lover who always took it upon himself to care for you. now here you are: alone in your bedroom, struggling with a task that you long should’ve learned how to deal with yourself.

you nearly give in to the urge to seek out the one person you trust to alleviate your pain but at this point, you’re too tired to even get off the bed. maybe it’s for the best, you wonder to yourself. your eyes flutter closed as you pull Shanks’ pillow a bit closer and bury your face deeper into it as you allow yourself to be lulled to sleep by your exhaustion, hoping that at least you can sleep away the next few hours of aches and itching.

ii.

letting out a sigh of relief, the one-armed Emperor takes his time returning to his ship after a grueling few weeks of settling disputes between several smaller pirate crews. normally such tasks would never take this long–hell, most of the time he didn’t even have to step in–but civilians’ lives were at stake so he had no choice.

now, as Shanks nears the dock and sees the Red Force coming into view, all he can think about is taking a nap with you. not only have his duties kept him away from you all day every day, he’d also been going to bed at ungodly hours, crawling under the sheets beside you long after you’ve fallen asleep. though he can’t wait to spend some quality time with you, he wants nothing more than to rest by your side with the knowledge that he’ll finally be able to wake up after you for once.

“hey Captain,” Benn calls out from aboard the deck once Shanks reaches speaking-distance. “i think (Y/N) needs your help.”

“see, what’d i say?” you could practically hear him smiling as he sat behind you, tenderly plucking out the final few loose feathers. “there’s no need to be shy around me.” Shanks tugged at a particularly stubborn feather and when it finally came loose, you couldn’t help the moan of relief that came out of your mouth.

you felt your cheeks rapidly heat up in shame as you buried your face in your hands, fully prepared for the boy to make fun of you. but it never came. instead, Shanks stayed quiet as he soothed the particular spot of skin with his fingers in a manner so tender you couldn’t believe it was him.

“there, all done,” he said. you were grateful but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around and face him even though you knew you had to in order to thank him properly. 

as though sensing your dilemma, Shanks leaned forward to press his lips against your shoulder blade, right above where your wings sprouted from your back. it sent shivers down your spine and goosebumps appeared all over but you didn’t tell him to stop, if anything, you wanted him to continue.

you’re ripped out abruptly from your dream when the door of your quarters slams shut. from your face-down position in bed, you’re unable to see who it is but only one person in this world would be brave enough to make such an entrance.

“welcome back,” you groan, using your arms to push the upper half of your body off the mattress as you turn your head to glance over your shoulder.

“why didn’t you call for me?” your husband responds, tossing his cape onto the floor before rushing over to guide you back down into a resting position. Shanks pulls over two other more pillows and places them in a way he knows, from years of experience, makes you the most comfortable. “how long have your wings been molting?” 

there’s a slight hint of frustration in his voice but you know it’s not directed at you. it doesn’t make you feel any less guilty, though.

“it started… two weeks ago…” you mumble into Shanks’ pillow.

“you–” he cuts himself off with a deep sigh before he says anything impulsive. the Emperor understands you just didn’t want to disrupt his work and he appreciates the sentiment greatly, he’d just hoped that after all these years of marriage, you’d know how he’d do quite literally anything for you. this, he decides as his eyes scan your twitching wings and tangled feathers, is a conversation for another day though.

“poor thing,” Shanks coos instead, leaning down to press kisses all over the back of your neck and around your shoulder blades as he runs his hand down your side. you can feel his lips smile against your skin when your body shivers in response. “you must’ve been in so much pain, hmm? let your husband help you out.” 

—

taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui

[crystallinestars]

This was inspired by a conversation I had with an Aventurine AI. If Aventurine seems a bit OOC, I apologize. I wrote this all in one go while sleep-deprived.

Aventurine lays his head on your lap and you pet his hair and give him kisses. That’s pretty much it.

Contains: Established relationship, lots of fluff, and self-indulgence.

After returning from Penacony, Aventurine asked you to play a game of cards with him. He said he missed you and wanted to spend some quality time over a casual game.

Of course, Aventurine wouldn’t be Aventurine if a bet wasn’t involved.

“If I win, you have to give me a kiss,” he said while keeping his violet eyes trained on your face, a cat-like smile tugging at his lips. Without looking, he placed a card on the table and then waited for your move.

“A kiss?” you parrot, a bit surprised that Aventurine chose a rather simple bet this time. Usually, he liked to ask you out on long dates or get you to wear designer-brand clothing he picked out specially for you. A kiss seemed suspiciously simple by comparison.

“Yes, just a kiss. On the lips, of course,” he smirked and pointed at his lips for emphasis. “But what do you want if you win?”

You hesitated to answer, a bit self-conscious about what Aventurine would think of your request. Whether because you’ve missed him, or because the dark bags under his eyes hinted at Aventurine’s exhaustion, you just wanted to take care of him by doing something nice.

“If I win, I want you to lay your head on my lap and let me pet your hair,” you finally say, voice tinged with embarrassment.

The cat-like grin fell from Aventurine’s lips as he stared at you in wide-eyed surprise, before bursting out laughing.

“That’s the most adorable bet I’ve ever heard!” he grinned, his tired eyes lighting up with amusement. “It almost makes me want to throw the game so I can spend the evening being pampered by you.”

Your cheeks flushed from embarrassment and annoyance as Aventurine laughed at your choice for a bet. Your intentions were pure and genuine, so it hurt a little that he laughed at it.

Seeing the annoyed glare you sent his way, Aventurine quickly quieted down and tried to do damage control. “I admit, I quite like your idea. Whether I win and get a kiss, or lose and get pampered, both scenarios are a win-win in my books,” he said, his gaze warm.

“…Would you really throw the game just for some pampering?” you asked, looking at him with poorly disguised curiosity.

Aventurine only chuckled in response and leaned back in his chair, exuding an air of confidence.

“I’ll play seriously, of course. I still want that kiss, you know,” he replied with a smirk. “Let’s play and see who luck favors more.’”

The game of cards continued. While it wasn’t your first time playing with Aventurine, you sported a hefty 100% losing streak against him. The chances of that changing now were slim, you figured.

However, luck seemed to be on your side this time. You amassed some good cards, and even managed to push through tough plays where you were on the verge of losing. The game progressed unusually smoothly, and before you knew it, victory was in your hands.

“Ah, looks like I lost. Lady Luck was on your side today,” Aventurine sighed. Though he sounded disappointed, the smug smile painted across his face hinted at the opposite.

“You let me win, didn’t you?” you stated and crossed your arms, not buying his little act.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aventurine casually brushed your accusation aside as he stood from the table. “Well then, as the losing party, I must fulfill my end of the bargain,” he drawled, giving you an expectant look.

You wanted to retort and call him out on his bluff some more but thought better of it. It truly had been a while since you saw Aventurine, and you were looking forward to doing something nice for him, even if it meant accepting a rigged victory.

Conceding to his expectant gaze, you led Aventurine over to a nearby sofa and took a seat on one side. You patted your lap, and Aventurine needed no further invitation to lay across the sofa with his head resting on your thighs.

He let out a quiet purr when your fingers carded through his blond locks, gently threading through the strands. Aventurine’s hair was soft and silky—all thanks to the expensive hair products he used.

“I could get used to this,” he murmured, looking up at you with a playful glint in his eye. “It feels quite nice to be pampered like this.”

“Sure, I could do this for you every day,” you quip back, playing along.

“Really? I’ll hold you to your word, then,” Aventurine chuckled.

“It will cost you, of course.”

“Ah, you drive a hard bargain.”

The playful banter between you continued for a while longer until it petered off into a peaceful silence. Your fingers never paused in their gentle and slow strokes through his hair, and you saw Aventurine gradually relax under your touch. The weight of Aventurine’s head grew heavier in your lap as he relaxed and lowered his guard. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh, basking in the tranquil moment.

The dark bags under his eyes were proof that Aventurine had not been sleeping well lately, which made you worry a bit. Your tender touches seemed to do the trick, however. Aventurine’s breathing deepened and slowed, while his expression softened into something more vulnerable and innocent as he succumbed to sleep. It was an expression you seldom witnessed, but one you knew was proof of Aventurine’s trust in you.

The sight of Aventurine so vulnerable and relaxed was simply too cute for you to resist. Overcome with a surge of affection, you tenderly brushed his bangs out of his face, before slowly leaning down and touching your lips to his in a feather-light kiss.

The blond tensed under you, and you pulled back slightly only to be met with an even more adorable sight. Aventurine looked up at you with surprise, his cheeks flushed a rosy, red hue. You had caught him unaware with that kiss and were now privy to a rare sight of him acting flustered.

You did your best to stifle the laugh that threatened to bubble out, but a snort still made it through. Aventurine’s momentary surprise turned into a sullen pout at your obvious attempts not to laugh at him.

“Sorry, you were just—so cute, you know? I couldn’t hold back—” you stammered, trying and failing to completely reign in your laughter.

Aventurine’s expression melted into something softer as he reached an arm up, placing his palm on the back of your head.

“I’m cute? The cute one here is you,” he murmured, voice almost a whisper as if he were saying it to himself. It didn’t sound like his usual playful flirting. This time, his tone was serious.

Stunned, you fall quiet and look down at the blond. Despite his serious expression, it still held a note of vulnerability and sincerity that you only saw during private moments with him.

The hand behind your head applied gentle pressure, a silent request for you to come closer to his face. However, there was no force behind it. If you wanted to, you could easily pull away and reject his wordless plea, and Aventurine would let you go. He always did.

This time, you felt like indulging him, so you complied and lowered your head until your faces were mere inches apart.

Your eyes met.

“If you want to fulfill my bet, then that kiss wasn’t nearly enough. But you’re welcome to try again, darling,” he said, voice breathy and soft. In classic Aventurine fashion, he left the decision up to you. He clearly wanted more, but he was still too hesitant to ask outright for it.

“All right. I’ll try as many times as you want until you’re satisfied,” you whisper back, before leaning in and closing the distance between your lips.

This kiss was firm yet sweet, and the first in a series of tender kisses that will leave their mark across Aventurine’s face.

Perhaps one day he’ll be comfortable with asking for what he wants from you without resorting to games of chance. For now, you will pamper your tired boyfriend and give him the affection he so desperately craves, even if it means giving him a hundred kisses every day.

[ellecdc]

All's Fair in Love & Chaos (II)

2nd instalment (I - II - III - IV)

a short blurb style mini-series in collaboration with @unstablereader no real plot, just vibes and comedy.

Synopsis: soulmate au, everyone's soulmate's initials become visible on their wrist when the last person in the bond 'comes of age' (I've left the age ambiguous because their may be mature insinuations later on in the story). As luck would have it, and much to everyone's horror; it appeared that you, Barty Crouch Junior, and Sirius Black were soulmates

poly!DeathStar x fem!reader

Though this soulmate thing had caused Sirius a bit of grief so far, he was feeling rather chuffed about it today. He was currently sitting with you in the library; you were currently doing research for your Herbology project, and he was pretending to work on his Transfiguration essay.

It was an odd sight, he was sure; Sirius Black found in the library working quietly without being involved in some sort of mischief. It was no secret he didn’t exactly take his school work seriously, but that was only because he didn’t have to; classes came easily to him and getting good grades didn’t require any extra work on his part.

But…

But, he had a pretty little thing sitting across from him, that was certifiably his, and she was spending time in the library, which meant he was, too. 

It was a precarious arrangement, but Sirius found he didn’t much mind when the unpleasantness wasn’t around. 

Unfortunately, the unpleasantness was insistent on following him around.

“Junior.” He growled lowly as a figure sidled up behind you and cast a shadow over your shared table.

“Black.” Barty sneered before turning a saccharine smile in your direction. “Hello, sweet darling angel.” He cooed, earning him a scoff from Sirius.

“Hello, Barty… what are you doing here?”

Barty laughed as if you’d made a particularly funny joke. “I’m here to spend time with my best girl, of course!” 

“Like hell you are!” Sirius barked, earning him indignant shushes from the other students around him.

“Barty… you agreed to this.” You tried placating.

“Agreed to share you with Black?” Barty squawked. “I’d sooner start wearing red and gold unironically.”

“Junior, this schedule was your idea. I get the library study time on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. You get the library study time on Sundays, Mondays, and Wednesdays. It’s Tuesday; get lost.” Sirius lamented.

“But I don’t want to!” Barty pouted particularly petulantly, even stomping his foot for good measure. 

“Well, you can take it up with management.” Sirius taunted.

“You just sodding said yourself that this was my plan; I am the management!” Barty countered. 

Sirius mustered his most Noble and Ancient menacing glare from countless Black ancestors. The Slytherin boy had no problem reciprocating it, and it wasn’t until you intervened that the boys broke the silent war being waged between them.

“Barty, I…I think you should go see what Pandora is up to? And…maybe we can sit together at dinner?” You offered hopefully. Sirius was simultaneously grateful you were trying to rid them of the unpleasantness and also terribly jealous that Barty was going to share a meal with you.

“Yes! Okay, I’ll go get Pandora to help me organize a romantic meal for us tonight.” Barty beamed excitedly.

“Please. How romantic can a meal in the Great Hall be?” Sirius sneered, albeit slightly worried that Barty may in fact succeed.

“You mind your fuckin’ business, Black. Salazar’s balls you’re a pest.” 

“I’m the pest!?” Sirius exclaimed, but you were quick to place a conciliatory hand on Barty’s forearm.

“Please, Barty?”

Barty looked down at you with a pained expression that Sirius could understand all too well.

You were impossible to say no to.

Barty looked between you and Sirius a few times before groaning exasperatedly. 

“Fine.” He relented, pressing a smacking kiss to your cheek and stalking off.

Sirius let out a sigh of relief as you turned back towards the table with an embarrassed smile.

“Oh!” Sirius heard, causing him to let his head fall with a thump to the table before him. “I almost forgot.”

And Sirius lifted his head from the table to watch as Barty pulled at the collar of your uniform shirt to expose part of your neck and began sucking a bruise into your skin.

Sirius spit out a shocked guffaw as he watched Barty pull back, admire his work, press a chaste kiss to it and replace your collar to its proper place before leaving the library for good. 

“What…” Sirius started as he turned his attention from the door he’d been keeping an eye on to ensure that menace didn’t return to continue tormenting him back to you, just as you were embarrassedly rubbing at your neck. “...in the buggering fuck was that?”

“That’s just Barty.” You replied timidly. 

Sirius let out another scoff, eyes still glued to your neck. “Are you okay?”

You chuckled at that and offered Sirius a smile that was equal parts apologetic and equal parts teasing. “I’m pretty sure that’s his way of showing…affection? Or possibly marking his territory; he’s done it before when Diggory spent a, quote, ‘unreasonable amount of time complimenting my potion’.” 

Sirius relaxed a little at that. He supposed if you were comfortable with it, he wouldn’t push it. And though Sirius clearly had better impulse control than your other soulmate, he couldn’t deny how much he was tempted to do the same.

“Alright then.” Sirius relented, allowing you to return to your research.

“I hope you know you’ve just opened up the need to schedule meals now though.”

“For fuck’s sake.” You groaned, plopping your head down into your textbook.

[remiratboi]

The Truth Of The Matter - Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 | Previous

Minotaur M Best Friend X Human GN Fat Reader

CW: monsterfucking, clubbing, drinking, slight body insecurity

A few weeks went by, and the dress haunted you from your closet. You had put it on a couple of times, but chickened out each time.

Tonight was the night, though. You were going to do it. You were feeling hot today, and you figured if there was ever a time, now was it. You and Rin were both getting ready for the usual club, respectively.

You spent more time than you normally did on your face and hair. You went ultra femme, the tight red dress and sheer black tights. You put on your favourite strapy black heels and curled your hair. After a final look in the mirror, and a calming breath, you made your way to the living room where Rin was waiting for you.

You felt nervous for some reason. And embarrassed. You tried shaking it.

Rin caught you from the corner of his eye, and did a legitimate double take. His jaw dropped, for the second time.

“You’re wearing that tonight?” His voice cracked.

“Yeah, I mean, if I look as hot as you say I do, maybe I’ll catch someone extra pretty tonight.” You joked. His face went blank. Your normally open friend became unreadable.

“You know, I’m actually not up to it tonight.” He spoke flatly, but his words felt like knives. Did he not like the dress on you anymore? “I… I’m not feeling good. I just can’t take it.” He finished lamely.

Your shoulders sank. “But I was so excited.” You pouted and looked at your dolled up face in the decorative mirror that hung nearby.

“You should still go. Have fun. I’m probably just gonna go to bed early.” His tone was still bizarre. You didn’t understand.

“No, it’s ok, I’ll make some soup, and we can watch a-” you turned back to your room as you spoke, but were interrupted by his suddenly harsh tone.

“No, just go. I’m fine. Go have fun.” He stood and walked past you. The door to his room clicked when it latched. You stood in your living room, bewildered and a little bit hurt.

Fuck it. You thought. You looked hot, felt good, and clearly Rin needed some space. You’d give him as much as he wanted. You grabbed your handbag and headed out.

The club was dead when you arrived. You hadn’t meant to leave quite that early, but after the strange experience with Rin, you’d practically ran there. About 15 people milled around.

Brutus welcomed you with a low whistle when you walked by him. You blushed and twirled, giggling.

“Damn, you poured into that?” He teased and followed it with a chef's kiss.

You received a similar response from Viola. “Baby if I hadn’t paid a fuck ton of money to turn my cock into a pussy, I’d have a raging boner right about now.”

“Ew, Vi?” You replied, screwing up your face. She cackled at your response.

“Seriously though, you look amazing. New dress?” She spoke as she prepped the bar for the night. You reached over and plucked a cherry from a dish, popping it into your mouth.

“Yeah, Rin bought it for me.” Your smile fell as you were reminded of the strange interaction earlier.

“Speaking of the big lug, where is he?” You didn’t reply for a moment, lost in thought. It was long enough she paused, and looked up at you. “Woah, what’s with the face? You guys okay?” She asked. You knew it wasn’t like you two to have conflict? And while you had wanted to move past it, it seemed harder than you’d expected.

“Huh?” You shook your head slightly and looked back at her. “Oh, yeah. Uh, he said something about how he ‘just can’t take it’.” You were about to explain that he wasn’t feeling well when Viola laughed.

“Yeah well, you can’t blame him.” She went back to her prep work. “Honestly, about time he said something.”

Maybe if she had been paying better attention, she’d have seen how confused you were. That she had misunderstood. But she hadn’t been. And she didn’t realize.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “Well I mean the guys been in love with you his entire life, and he has to watch you go home with person after person each night. I wouldn’t be able to take it either.” She finally looked back at your face. It was her turn to be confused at your expression of utter shock.

“What are you talking about?” You spoke quietly. The music almost drowning you out.

Viola froze. “… What are you talking about?”

“Rin isn’t feeling well. He said he couldn’t take coming out tonight.” You clarified. It felt like the whole world fell away. The only thing you could see was Viola. “What did you think I was saying?”

Viola laughed awkwardly. “Yeah that’s what I meant too!” She spoke with too much enthusiasm. As if she could trick you into forgetting what she had just said.

“Vi, I swear to god.” You pushed every bit of threat you could muster into your tone. Her shoulders sagged. She sighed.

“I’m not supposed to tell you. It was an accident.” Viola chewed on her bottom lip.

You glared at her.

“Fine. But don’t you dare tell him I told you. I’ll make Brutus ban you.” She pointed to the door you knew he stood outside.

You crossed your arms. “Honestly, I’d like to see you try. He likes me more.” You smirked. “But I’m not going to say anything anyway. Can you please just explain yourself?” You refocused.

“Each night, you go home with someone. And each night, he sits here and drowns his sorrows, complaining about how much he loves you. I think he’s just a coward, but he says you don’t feel the same, and he doesn’t want to risk the friendship.” She looked at you anxiously. “I don’t know, that’s just what he’s said.”

She didn’t even finish the sentence before you were turning around. And then you were running.

[jackiepackiee]

𝐵𝒮𝒟 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒰𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒾��𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝐹𝓁𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔

𝐹𝓉- 𝒜𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓈𝒽𝒾, 𝒟𝒶𝓏𝒶𝒾, 𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒴𝑜𝓈𝒶𝓃𝑜

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 - 𝐼𝓃𝓃𝓊𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈

𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓉𝓈

Is half of this even considered flirting?!? (Please tell me)

You’re in your shared apartment, and you had been missing him after his longgg missions. Having the day off, his absence had been much more noticeable. It added to the quiet atmosphere and made it thicker than ever.

And you had gotten a little needy for some attention. I mean, all these romance movies were getting to you! The time spent together, the more intimate scenes. It was making the clock tick impossibly slower impending his arrival.

He would be exhausted when he came back, as he always was. Such a hard worker.

So you get the bright idea to have a little double shower~

Help him relax.

So when you hear the door click open, you’re already in the bathroom. But he had gotten home a little too early.

You didn’t have the time to take off your clothes and get in the shower!!

But, no way you’re abandoning this plan now.

So you call him in, and hope for the best.

“Atsu? Come get in the shower…”

He walks into the bathroom, a bit confused. But responds nonetheless.

He leans against the doorframe, and stares at you. A bit sweaty from his long day, but fuck was it just adding to how good he looked. His looks and your desperation made the entire scenario a bit more tense in your head.

So his next words came out like honey.

“Do you like your showers hot or cold?”

Is this a once in a lifetime experience? Atsushi Nakajima, flirting back?! While being so caring, wanting to know the type of shower.

He can’t seriously mean he’s ready to shower with you, and is being so forward-

“Because I know you haven’t showered today. Still have the same clothes as the morning! I’ll go first, but I’ll make sure to make it quick to not waste the hot water!”

Oh… oh boy. He really didn’t understand what you meant.

But it was so cute. And he was so thoughtful.

And who would have the heart to tell him differently now when he was already so sure of himself?

Have fun showering alone, he’d probably die from embarrassment if he knew your true intentions now.

(The real challenge here is getting this genius to not understand, I mean congrats on that)

“Osamu?~”

You waltzed into the office room of the ADA. It was empty save for his presence at his desk and the mindless keyboard clacking of the secretaries in the other room.

“…’Samu?”

For once, he was actually working. It’s not that any cases have been scary or difficult. No, you would’ve known. Anyways, Fukuzawa wouldn’t make him do that alone.

Was he… just bored? Perfect!

“Huh, oh! Hi, sorry I was too busy with my super secret business.”

He joked, making those squiggle arms at you. And that made you laugh, obviously. He looked dumb, but that was on purpose.

Until, that is, you noticed how tired he was.

Dark circles, messy hair, pale skin. He wasn’t sick, he always got red when I’ll. No, he was tired. Just like every morning when he stayed over. But this wasn’t a morning, and he shouldn’t be tired.

Hero time.

“Come with me.”

You pulled his arm away from his computer, and tugged on that light beige coat. 

“Eh? Where are we headed?”

He prodded your cheek for an answer, but to no avail. You were determined. Continuing to pull his hand, which you moved to hold, in the direction away from his desk.

His feet dragged a bit, but what was more noticeable was his lack of a grip on your hand.

Plopping down on the office couch, he did the same. With the stupid expression he always had when he was tired and around you.

“So… are we gonna sit and-“

You moved his head to your lap, and pet his hair. He was tense at first, but then something extraordinary happened.

He… blushed!! Dazai Osamu blushed?!

Maybe from the sweetness of your actions, probably from the shock at your care.

He knew he was too tired to be working, but a job is a job. And the last few days had been rough.

Sure, he knew. But he was positive you didn’t notice. So when he knew you had noticed, his heart exploded.

You cared enough to make his rest.

But before you could comment on his behavior, he was asleep.

Flirting was all too common in your relationship, so it’s most meaningful when you do something with care for the other.

Chuuya Nakahara is a busy man, yet a lover, a loyal partner, a spoiler, and a protector to you. He is everything, and gives everything. So how, you ask, do you give him something back?

Soft words, gentle kisses, late nights with just the city air coming through the cracked window and the hum on a personal jazz record in the back.

Sounds easy, right? Not. At. All.

Getting him to calm down was a challenge. I don’t mean his temper, he never has a temper with you.

What I mean is for him to relax, without a care in the world. That was the issue.

He was supposed to get home early-ish tonight. Always later than you, but that was perfect. He had texted you that evening.

Chuu <3

-“home soon love, be there at 7?”

Of course it was never guaranteed, but he probably wouldn’t tell you that unless he was 99% sure.

So, plan in motion.

You set the bed with freshly washed everything, and it smelled just like vanilla. (His favorite scent) And you took a shower to make sure your skin was smoother than silk and you smelled nice.

He had a tendency of resting his head on you, so you wanted to feel and smell comfortable!

You cracked the window so the cool night air came in, and set a jazz record that you personally picked yourself. Spinning it to his favorite song.

Perfect, only one thing was missing. Him.

And… click! The lock.

“I’m home!”

You were about to rush out of the bedroom, but stopped before bombing out of the door.

“Okay, look calm. Totally normal, no secret plan…”

“There you are.”

He came closer, and kissed your cheek. Setting his bag down on the couch and tossing the keys to the coffee table.

You removed his coat in your excited state.

“Woah, angel. Someone is in a hurry.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

He hoisted you up, and used his gravity to put the coat on its hanger. He held your thighs, and walked to the bedroom.

No no no! It’s all going wrong, he’s not the one that’s supposed to be in charge.

When he finally plopped you on the bed, he sat next to you. And you hid your pout.

As if approaching a lion, you moved slowly. Before petting his hair, and he leaned into the touch.

Okay, good. Back on track.

He moved you onto his lap, and gave you a gentle kiss. And rubbed your back. You leaned into his chest, and shut you eyes… until!

“Why are you pouting?”

“You’re a thief.”

He poked your arm.

“Eh, obviously. I’m in the mafia.”

“No! You’re a… love thief!”

You were met with a confused Chuuya, and knew you had to explain.

“I was supposed to be the one giving you gentle kisses and cuddling you! But you stole it!”

He shushed you, and rubbed you back more. Laughing, he leaned his head back and shut his eyes.

“Trust me, this is enough. Though.. sorry I stole your plan. Mastermind~”

Flirting with Chuuya was never easy, because he was always so perfect.

“Akikoooooo?”

Ranpo whined at the door of her office, lollipop muffling his vowels.

“Yes?”

“They won’t stop bugging me! Take care of them!!”

You popped your head out next to Ranpo, and looked equally as impatient.

“I already said that I’m busy. I’m sorry, love.”

Ranpo pouted, and his resolve grew stronger.

“No way! You’re taking them, I’m busy too!”

“No you aren’t-“

Before she could protest, you were pushed into her office and he shut the door.

It’s not that she didn’t want you around, it’s more that she was obsessed with work as of late. And didn’t want you around the sharp tools.

You moved yourself to sit on a comfy patient bed, and stared at her. She cleaned her tools, and sanitized everything twice. Doctors…

“Akiko?”

She turned her head to get a better ear shot of you, but didn’t look at you.

“Yes?”

“I know these doors lock, and I bet they are sound proof. We could do whatever we want in here…”

You kicked your feet as you spoke, and watched her form move on to the next set of tools that needed cleaning.

“Mhm.”

She mumbled… she wasn’t listening!! I mean, who in their right mind would be so calm after hearing that! Certainly not you.

You made an annoyed expression, but she was turned away.

“Akiko?”

“Mhm?”

You moved closer, and stood around her desk.

“Those beds are comfy, and probably very sturdy.”

“Mhm.”

Is that all she’s gonna say?! She was too caught up in work, and it was your job to stop her.

So, the final option.

You stood directly behind her, and moved her hair out of her ear. Her neck was exposed and you ran your fingers gently across the skin.

Now that was sure to work, and work it did.

Sometimes her mind was a little spaced out, but one touch from you was all it took for her to understand and throw you onto a bed.

Not Proofread

[candypalace]

Translation: the GazettE/Decade Book (Reita&Uruha Interview Snippet)

Hello friends, long time no see. A while ago I translated a part of the Decade Book interview section where Reita and Uruha talk about their indie days for my friends and promised I'd do the whole thing one day.

Posting this piece ahead of the full interview to appreciate the bond the guys had with each other, and, in a way, thank them for not giving up.

scan credit: @rad-is-more

REITA : … I don't really think about the roles within the band, but each of us has a natural role, and I think that's why we've been able to exist for more than 10 years. Um, well, I kinda don't want to talk about this embarrassing stuff…

URUHA: You're embarrassed?! I really don't think it's embarrassing?

REITA: No-no, it’s not like that! I don't think I'm ashamed of what I'm saying, it’s more like when I say it out loud, it makes me feel a little awkward.

URUHA: Aah, so that's what you meant (laughs).

REITA : I think for all five of us the GazettE is very important. Even though me and Uruha first started a band as “a continuation of child's play”, we thought: “I want to take things seriously”, but still those bands didn't last long and always broke up after a few months.

URUHA: I guess that's true. Before we became the GazettE, we played with a band called Kar+te=zyAnose, where Ruki was also the vocalist. The drummer did not even show up for our breakup show, and when we announced “We’re disbanding today”, we heard a faint laugh from the audience. It was a real shock, wasn’t it? It was also the moment when my groundless confidence that made me think “We’re absolutely badass!” collapsed with a loud crash.

REITA: Indeed. It was TOUGH at the time. I guess it is precisely because of that experience that I am so happy to be able to celebrate 10 years with the current members of the band. It is also precisely why I cherish the relationship between the five of us now.

URUHA: That's so true. Before the GazettE settled down, me, Reita and Ruki also played together in bands called Ma’die Kusse and L’ie:Chris before Kar+te=zyAnose. It took us a long time to reach the GazettE.

— You never gave up, did you?

REITA: No, I gave up once! I thought there was nothing next for me. But honestly, I'm glad I didn't quit! (laughs)

URUHA: It’s because me and Ruki desperately tried to stop you, m?

REITA: Really, thank god you did. But back then, I couldn't see the future at all. Even my parents said “Giving up someday is also brave”. There were many times when I wondered “Is now the time?”. When I saw all my friends around me getting jobs and having families and stable lives, I thought maybe this was also a way to happiness. Still, I decided for myself “I’ll try to do my best for one more year”, and it was during that year that the GazettE was formed. I really think it was fate.

URUHA: But it was difficult, right? We didn't have many shows, and we couldn't tell if we saw the future.

REITA: Yeah. If the GazettE had not continued with the current members, I really would have quit.

[worldlxvlys]

one choice

part 6 of the CRUSH series

bsf! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of sex, cursing

a/n -> hope u like <33

read the previous part for context !!

MATT’S POV

when my eyes fluttered open, i was immediately met with a pillow that wasn’t mine. i knew this pillow though, and those sheets.

i had forgotten where i was momentarily, until i looked over and saw her. her eyes were closed, lips parted slightly while she slept peacefully.

she looked angelic, the soft rays of the sun seeming to make her glow. she moved around in her sleep last night, leaving her barely covered by her blanket.

i couldn’t help but let my eyes wander her body, taking in every feature. her smooth skin was littered with dark marks all over, and the blanket left little to the imagination. before i knew it, i was hard again.

it took everything in me to fight the urge i had to take care of it right there next to her. what would she think if she woke up to me jerking myself off to her sleeping form?

oh my god, what was gonna happen when she woke up? she would want to talk about what this meant for us, but i couldn’t handle that.

what if this was a one time thing? what if she wanted nothing to do with me after this ? did i fuck up our friendship? i had to get out of there.

i got up quickly and quietly, careful not to make any noise while i got dressed. when i was done, i pulled her blanket over her so she was fully covered. i looked around for a pen and paper to leave her a note, as i didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

ok, she has nothing to write a note with. i’ll just leave her a text.

well i could have done that, if i had realized i completely forgot my phone in her room before i left. i didn’t make this realization, however, until i had gotten back home.

so not only did she think i was the type of guy to fuck and dip, but i also couldn’t avoid the conversation that i was running from in the first place.

it’s not that i never wanted to talk about it, i just wasn’t ready for our friendship to change yet.

was running away the best way to handle the situation? definitely not, but i only had so much time to decide what to do before she woke up.

so basically, my overthinking ended up screwing me over. doesn’t it always ?

what was wrong with me? this was the girl who made me feel safe and loved, and now i couldn’t even talk to her. how did i manage to fuck up this badly?

one choice. one choice stemming from my fantasy-filled thoughts is all it took. and the decision i made last night led to more poorly made choices. choices that i wouldn’t have made had my brain not been corrupted by her.

her face, her smell, those perfect little moans that fell off her lips, she had a way of making me ignore every logical thought that my brain produced. i was so desperate to finally have her in the way i’d only dreamed about for years.

now if i didn’t fix this, i wouldn’t have her in any way.

———

READER’S POV

when i woke up, matt was gone. the spot where he had slept next to me was cold, meaning he hadn’t been there for a while.

for a second, i questioned whether last night was even real. had i really fallen so deep into my delusions that i started to believe them? i found the thought to be worrisome, but i tried not to dwell on it as i got up and made my way to the bathroom.

when i caught a glimpse of the hickeys decorating my skin i felt relief wash over me. i wasn’t going crazy. just as quickly as it came, the relief was replaced with a new feeling; embarrassment.

i seriously let myself think that he would want something more. hell, he marked me like he did. but he didn’t treat me like i was his best friend, he treated me like i was a one night stand.

maybe he had a valid reason for leaving. i tried to talk myself out of the rabbit hole of assumptions i was about to go down, and picked up my phone.

once a few hours had passed without him returning my texts or calls, i knew. he was done with me, he had to be. why else would he just leave without warning and ghost me?

i should’ve know this was going to happen, people always leave me in the end. it just never occurred to me that matt could be just like everyone else.

——

MATT’S POV

when i got to her house, i let myself in using the key she had given me. “y/n?” i called her name, not receiving an answer.

i pulled out the ice cream i had bought her on the way to her place, putting it in the freezer for her.

when i got to her room, she happened to be fresh out of the shower. she wore nothing but a towel, her eyes widening when she saw me.

“matt?” she asked before rushing over to me, pulling me into a tight hug. the water droplets that coated her skin soaked into my t-shirt, but all i could focus on was the fact that she was in my arms.

i inhaled the scent of her fruity body wash, eyes falling shut as i rubbed her back soothingly.

she then pulled away, smacking me upside the head with her heavy hand. “don’t do that again matt, i thought i scared you off. i thought you hated me- i thought i lost my best friend”

i cupped her cheek gently, “i could never hate you, and i’m not going anywhere. i was just overwhelmed, but i shouldn’t have just left life that. i’m sorry, i was gonna leave a note, but then i couldn’t find anything to write with. and i was gonna text you but i left my phone here and-”

“matt, it’s ok. i’m just glad that you’re here now” she whispered. “but there’s nothing to be scared of, i mean- last night was just the heat of the moment, right? i mean, it had to be, why else would you leave like that” she whispered the last part to herself.

shit. this was the problem, i didn’t know what the night before was.

i didn’t know what i wanted, and i didn’t want to hurt her in the process of figuring it out. what i did know, was i wasn’t going to lose her because i got greedy. so, i decided i would figure it out later, but for now: “yeah, that’s all it was”

“so, we’re good?” she asked. “we’re good” i confirmed.

“good. then i’m gonna get dressed and then we can watch something?” she posed the last part of the sentence as a question.

“yeah, and i brought you ice cream” i told her, watching her face light up at the news. “wow, you thought you really messed up, huh?” she asked as she grabbed her clothes to change into.

“i did really mess up, but i won’t do anything like that again” i told her. she just smiled at that letting out a quick, “i know” before moving to go back into her bathroom.

“wait, you’re seriously going into another room to get changed? did you forget how we spent last night together?” i joked. admittedly, it was probably a little too soon to crack jokes like that.

“last night never happened” she spoke before closing the door.

shit, why did that sting a little?

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[jexnkookie]

BTS: In the Secret (Idol! Jungkook x Reader) [Chapter 5]

Summary: Big Hit announces a new season of In the Soop with a twist; one lucky Army is going to join the members for an entire summer of filming, picked by a random poll. You were selected, and ready to have an amazing summer. But what happens when you win something else that's a bit more complicated; the heart of the group's maknae?

Rating: M (18+)

Chapter Warnings: None.

Tag List: @cassies-cookies @hoeinthehouse @jjeonjjk7 @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @leetha43 @rrosiitas @whoa-jo @1-in-abillion 

While you were sleeping, Jungkook did what he did best when he needed to clear his head; he boxed. After slipping on his gloves and getting into position, he let it all out on a punching bag. Again, his thoughts settled on you; how you felt in his arms, how you gazed at his lips like he gazed at yours, giving him a glimmer of hope that just maybe you wanted to kiss him, too. He needed to get you alone again, and away from the cameras. 

It was something he had thought about while working out. All the cameras on the property were filming every move the members made. Of course, that’s what everyone signed up for. No surprise there. But that means everything will be up to view soon, and Jungkook didn’t know what would be aired, and what wouldn’t. Would their short-lived game of truth or dare, where you gave Taehyung a quick kiss, be seen by fans? Or your movie day together? What about him carrying you to bed? He hoped not, knowing how some fans react to just a dating rumor. He didn’t want you to be on the receiving end of one of those storms. Whatever heat he got, he could take it, and would take it, if it meant protecting you. 

So he continued thinking; how can he get you away from the other members, and away from the cameras, to have privacy with you? How can he keep this a secret, while still properly confessing? A grin came to his face as he hatched an idea, but he’d need a little time to think through the details. That wouldn’t be now, however, as you walked into the door of the gym. 

“Hey.” You greeted him with a wave. “I’m so sorry I fell asleep. That was so embarrassing, and I feel awful.” 

“Don’t, it’s ok.” He said, his voice going soft once again, as became a habit around you. “You were tired.” 

“And um…thank you, for bringing me to my bedroom.” You blushed, walking closer to him as he had paused his workout. “That was really sweet of you.” 

“Any time.” He smiled.

Figuring out where to move the conversation to, because you didn’t want to stop talking to him, you glanced to his boxing gloves. 

“Y’know, I’ve never boxed before.” You smiled. “It looks fun, though.” 

“I can show you.” He grinned, always ready to play. Jungkook began removing his gloves, before raising his sparkling eyes to yours. “Here, put these on. They’ll probably be too big but it’ll work for now.” 

Standing very close to you, he helped you put them on, as you had never done so before. You felt as though you couldn’t breathe, and like your heart had paused in your chest. How is it even possible for someone be that beautiful? He stood tall over you, and you wanted him to put his arms around you so badly. Little did you know, he wanted to, as well. He focused solely on your gloves, but being so close to you and feeling your eyes on him made him more nervous than he’d care to admit. He wanted to lean down just enough to kiss you, but he knew it wasn’t the right time. 

Not yet. Not in front of the cameras, and not on the property. 

He had an idea, and he wanted to stick to it. 

“Ok!” He smiled. “I’ll show you how to throw a punch, then you’ll hit me.” 

“I don’t wanna hurt you!” You laughed. 

“I really doubt you’re going to hurt me.” He teased, smirking at you. 

“We’ll see. I can be mean!” 

“I seriously doubt that.” Jungkook giggled. “Let’s get it, c’mon!” 

You threw punch after punch, while Jungkook blended teasing words with encouragement. He loved your competitiveness and playfulness, as it matched him so well. He thought to himself, as he was laughing with you, how easy it is just to be with you. Although you were a fan, that’s why you were selected, you treated him like a normal person. Someone to joke with, someone to just hang out with. He felt like he never had to try around you, and he appreciated that you didn’t seem to try hard to impress him, either. Everything just felt so natural. 

“Alright, Kookie, I’m taking you down this round.” You giggled through deep breaths, collecting yourself. 

“Yeah?” He grinned. “You’re confident?” 

“Mhm.” You hummed. “Watch.” 

With that, you went back in with a fierceness, making him smile and coo to himself, watching how you were trying so hard but still couldn’t even knock him back. Moving in closer to him, you both began laughing as it was clear that this was going nowhere for you. Jungkook “fought” back, moving forward towards you, making you back up despite your cute complaints. (“No fair, you’re bigger! I’m punching above my weight!”) Without paying too much attention, caught up in the fun you were having together, you were backed against the wall, trapped by Jungkook. 

“Fine! You win!” You laugh, throwing your head back to the wall. 

Jungkook was somehow even closer than he was before, with your body resting against the wall. While you both caught your breath, grinning over your silliness, Jungkook’s hand instinctively came up to brush strands of hair away from your face as your eyes were gazing into his. 

You stared at each other for what felt like hours, just enjoying being close. The moment felt fragile, as though if either person moved too quickly, it would shatter. 

“Hi.” He whispered, breaking the silence. 

“Hi.” 

“I…” Jungkook started without really understanding what it was he needed to say. “That was fun.” 

“Yeah.” You smiled warmly, biting your lip nervously before adding, “I like hanging out with you.” 

“Yeah?” He grinned. “I like hanging out with you, too.”  

And just like that, it was present again; another fragile moment. Eyes glued to each other, butterflies in his stomach, and a racing heart in your chest. Words that you both weren’t quite sure how to say, or if you should say them, lingering in the air, making the room feel heavy. The  attraction was immediate, but now the spark is glowing, as well. It was something you both knew, but didn’t understand how to approach it. 

“I, uh, think we may need a shower.” Jungkook said softly. “Before Yoongi-hyung finishes dinner.” 

“You’re probably right.” You smiled, sighing internally that the moment couldn’t last. 

“You go first. I’ll clean up here, and meet you later, ok?” 

“Ok.” You replied. You looked over his features one more time before leaving for your guesthouse. 

Jungkook was grinning uncontrollably, feeling electric from the interaction. He knew he couldn’t mess this up with you, but he needed to tell you how he felt. There was something between you two that was almost magnetic, drawing him to you in ways that felt unreal. He understood he needed to act, but it needed to be private and personal, and just right. 

He quickly reached for his phone, and looked for the answer to one question; 

How long until a lake clears after a flood? 

A week passed, and it seemed to fly by. You had discussed your favorite records with Yoongi, painted a bit with Taehyung, beaten Jin at Mario Kart (much to his dismay), and gossiped over drinks with Jimin. The latter of which you increasingly became closer with, thanking multiple glasses of wine and late night conversations for that. 

“Are you single?” Jimin asked. It was 4 a.m., and the cameras were turned off for the night, allowing you to speak more freely. 

“I am.” You responded. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have come if I wasn’t. Spending a summer with 7 men alone… I don’t think a boyfriend would appreciate that, you know? What about you?” 

“That’s true… And, me too.” He said. “The last one, I don’t know… we just didn’t work out.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“It’s ok. It’s in the past now.” Jimin smiled kindly. “Can I ask about you?” 

“My last boyfriend?” You rolled your eyes at the memory. “I broke up with him. We just never had any fun together, you know? It grew stale very quickly, like we were stuck in this routine, and he took himself too seriously to try anything new.” 

“He doesn’t sound like your type.”

“Yeah?” You grinned at his response, pouring more wine. “What do you think my type is?” 

“I think you like someone you can have fun with.” He stated, leaning back into the couch, a mischievous look gracing his features as if holding in a secret. “I think you’d like someone who can make you laugh and who will play with you, but he can also be sensitive and take care of you.” 

“You almost sound like you have someone in mind for me.” You giggled. 

“Not really.” Jimin smiled, looking down at his glass. “Just guessing.” 

At the end of the week, Jungkook had come to your bedroom door, knocking to wake you. It was late; late enough where the cameras were turned off and the other members were sleeping. You furrowed your brow wondering who would be coming to get you at this time, and why. 

“Jungkook?” You whispered. “What are you doing?” 

“Y/N, I have a surprise for you,” He whispers, his eyes somehow dazzling in the dark. “Should you choose to accept it.” 

“You make it sound like a video game side quest, Kookie.” You giggle. “I accept. What is it?” 

“Put on some shoes, and come with me.” He responded with a boyish grin. “I have something to show you.” 

You did as you were told, and Jungkook led you though the dark to the ATV on the property. Attached to it, somehow, was a bottle from Yoongi’s whiskey stash and a blanket. You were suddenly thankful for the cover of the night, because you could feel your cheeks blushing as you gathered what he could be up to. 

“Get on, and hold on tight to me, ok?” He explained. “I found something I think you’ll like.” 

After getting onto the back of the ATV, you got comfortable and hugged him tightly from the back. Jungkook smiled at the feeling of your arms, and he hoped it was the first of many times he’d feel you wrapped around him. He took off, checking to make sure the members and the staff weren’t paying attention, and took you down the road. The drive was short, and you wondered what Jungkook could’ve possibly found, as you were in the woods. 

But as he drove up to what seemed to be a perfect, private oasis, your eyes grew wide. Tucked in a cleared spot, there was a lake with the moonlight reflecting off the cool water. It was peaceful and serene, with only the occasional sound of crickets breaking the silence. 

“It’s the lake that the staff members mentioned may flood.” Jungkook explained as he helped you off the ATV. “I wanted to bring you here for a few days, but it needed to clear first.” 

“This is so pretty.” You said.  

“Come on, let’s go sit down.” He said, carrying the blanket and the wine. 

“I feel like a teenager.” You laughed as Jungkook spread the blanket on the ground. “Sneaking out of the house late with a boy, stealing alcohol from the kitchen.” 

“We’re rebels.” Jungkook laughed. You sat next to him, and he popped open the bottle of wine. “Meaning we drink from the bottle, too…and totally not because I forgot to grab glasses.” 

“I love this.” You giggled. “Thank you for bringing me out here. This is nice.” 

“Anytime.” He replied softly. “I’ve been thinking… this could be our place, y’know? If we need to get away from the cameras, from the set, we can just come here.” 

“That sounds amazing.” You said. Jungkook looked over at you, admiring your features and how they glowed in the moonlight. “Oh, look! We can see stars so clearly here.” You laid down on the blanket, and Jungkook followed. 

“I can see… the moon.” Jungkook joked, making you laugh. “I don’t know much about stars.” 

“Tell me your zodiac, and I’ll show you where it is.” You smiled. 

You began pointing out to Jungkook where his corner of the sky was, and where yours was alongside it. While you spoke about stars, Jungkook had some of his own in his eyes, hanging on every word you said. The atmosphere of the lake, the red wine buzz you both felt, and your sweet voice right next to him made him so, unbelievably happy. You spoke about his corner of the sky, but he felt like this little place he found was meant for both of you. Your little corner of the world. 

“Hey.” He whispered, cutting you off softly. 

“Hey.” You whispered back. 

“I…” A brief pause, but unlike that day in the gym, he knew what he needed to say. “I just want to tell you, that I meant what I said. The day I met you, I said you were so pretty. It’s true… I think you’re beautiful.” 

“T-Thank you.” You stuttered, blushing profusely at his gaze and attention.  

“Can…Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” 

“The day we were watching a movie, and the day we were boxing… I felt something.” Jungkook explained nervously. “I felt a.. I don’t know, a spark or something, if that makes sense. Did you… Do you…” 

“Yeah.” You smiled warmly. “Yeah, I feel it, too.” 

Once again, a fragile moment appearing. The warm, summer air feels heavy once again, and a rush of vulnerability passes through. The quiet part weighs on you both now that it’s been said out loud; he feels something for you, and you feel it to. Not love, not yet. Not enough to dive in head first. But enough to be a promise of something, or the hope of an exciting possibility. 

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook asked, gazing down at your lips. You nodded your consent, and he slowly brought his hands to your waist, pulling you in closer to cuddle with him on the blanket. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face, just as he had done back at the main house, but the action felt different this time. More real, knowing its intention. 

He smiled, as did you, at the tension of the moment. 

Then, he leans in, eyes closed. You closed yours as well, anticipating the touch. He lingers nearby, nerves taking over, but Jungkook wouldn’t miss his chance. His lips grazed yours, before connecting fully. Your hands came up to touch his chest softly, encouraging him to go just a bit further. So he did, deepening the kiss and savoring how your lips locked with his for the first time. 

After spending some time together, feeling high off of whatever this connection was, you both knew you needed to get back before the members and staff realized you were missing. Jungkook packed up and drove you back, but noticing the time and knowing the cameras hadn’t turned back on quite yet, he took your hand in his to walk you back to your bedroom. 

“Please get some rest, ok?” He whispered, leaning in close again, not able to get enough. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.” 

“It’s ok.” You smiled, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

“Y/N, listen.” He whispered, his tone more serious as he placed his hands on your hips. “I don’t want either of us to feel pressured by anyone about this… about us. I don’t want anyone jumping to their own conclusions about us before we even know for sure what we are. I just want us to spend time together, y’know? So when the cameras are on, and the members are around, let’s keep it between us.” 

“Ok.” You said, your voice a bit sad. 

“Hey, Y/N, c’mon.” Jungkook cooed, pulling you in close to hold you. “Trust me, I want everyone to know about this, but just not yet. I’m not hiding you, I’m protecting you. I promise. Please, just trust me.” 

He looked down at you, giving you a soft, slow kiss and feeling relieved when he felt your smile. 

“Goodnight.” You whispered, before turning towards the door. 

“Goodnight.” He replied. Jungkook struggled to let you go, wanting to hold you in his arms longer, now that he actually has you. 

You reached for his sweatshirt that night, wearing it to bed like you had done so many nights before. But somehow, it felt softer than ever. 

Next Chapter Coming Soon...Thank you! x

[gay-dorito-dust]

Rafayel who would much rather continue being the fool, the jester of your court if it meant maintaining a permanent place within your life. If that’s all it takes to stay in your life then he’ll make a fool out of himself for the rest of forever if you need him to.

He acts like nothing could ever truly phase him that even you start to believe that lie, but the one thing that Rafayel feared more then anything was being abandoned, left at the wayside to dry up and die of loneliness and a broken heart.

Out of everyone who fell for that lie, he wished you’d be the one to see through it and call him out on his bullshit bravado, just so he could finally hang it up and put it to rest and live a relatively modest lifestyle with you.

Rafayel the man who insinuates that he likes you a lot, even going as far as to point out the moments where he found himself falling harder for you, only to deeply fluster himself into backtracking his words out of pure embarrassment and fear that you might not feel the same as he first assumes.

He’s always been a coward when it came to being honest about his feelings. So much that he felt more comfortable teasing you about liking him in order to cover up the fact that he was purely projecting his own thoughts and inner most emotions onto you a hundred percent of the time.

It’ll probably cause a point of contention between the two of you as you assumed he wasn’t taking things seriously as he should before telling him that you were leaving for some time apart. Naturally this sparks Rafayel’s fear and he’s already holding onto your forearm for dear life just as you were about to leave.

‘Please.’ He’d utter too softly for you to hear.

‘What?’ You’d say

‘Please don’t leave.’ He say a little louder. ‘I’ll stop with the teasing and the joking from now on if that’s what you want. Just…just don’t leave me alone again…’

‘It’s not the teasing or the joking I have issue with…it’s the fact that that I don’t feel like you’re being with genuine with me anymore..’ you open up to him and as you go to look at him, you were to see a man with a face that looked as though it had all life drained from it. ‘You’re hiding from me and I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it.’ You’d tell him.

‘I’ll be honest from now on, promise.’ Rafayel said desperately as he practically clings onto your side as though his entire life depended on it.

‘Then what are you hiding from me?’ You asked, equally as desperate to fix whatever has been broke between the two of you. ‘More importantly what are you so deathly afraid of that’s leading you to pushing me away?’ You added on upon seeing his hesitance towards answering the question.

‘You.’ Rafayel responded. ‘I’m in love with you and that scares me, which is ironic because falling in love with you is all I’ve ever wanted and now that I have it…I’m scared that it’ll chase you away if I ever were to admit it.’ He chuckled humourlessly as fear gripped at his throat with each word that left his lips.

‘You could never scare me off Rafayel.’ You say softly as you hold his face in your hands, thumbs stroking his cheeks as you brought your forehead to his. ‘For I love you too silly boy.’ You’d continue, pressing a small kiss to his nose, feeling him physically relax under your touch.

‘Yeah but I’m your silly boy.’ Rafayel replied as he smiles widely in relief as his arms caged you against him.

‘You are indeed my silly boy.’ You echoed, smiling yourself as you both could finally put aside the misconceptions for good and revel in the presence of the other.

[agaypanic]

smutty blurbs w eric forman?? 😱

Eric Forman Smutty Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: couldn’t really think of blurbs so i decided to do some headcanons, also i dont have too much in depth knowledge about star wars. Eric might be a bit ooc but idc lol

C/W: smutty content (duh), roleplay, mentions of bondage, i feel like thats it

***

Loves roleplaying lmao

Remember that episode where Donna dressed up as Leia for him and he had the stormtrooper helmet??

Yeah yall do that

Sometimes, it’s hard to stay serious because he’s having too much fun with it

“Tell me what you know about the Rebel Alliance’s plans, prisoner.” You could tell that Eric was lowering his voice underneath the bulky Stormtrooper helmet. You had to keep yourself from giggling so you didn’t break the illusion of being a Stormtrooper’s prisoner.

“I’ll never tell you.” You responded defiantly, glaring at your boyfriend’s hidden face. 

Eric took a step closer, bringing a hand out from behind his back to reveal a Stormtrooper gun, which you remember getting him for his most recent birthday.

“Be obedient, and you might be rewarded.” Eric pointed the fake gun towards you, his bulky white helmet tilting to the side slightly. “Resist, and you’ll regret it.”

“Don’t point that blaster at me.” You backed up as much as possible, trying to appear scared, but it wasn’t long before your back hit Eric’s headboard.

“Actually,” Eric said, lifting his helmet off his head and looking at the gun, “It’s an E-Eleven Blaster Rifle, Y/n. We’ve been through this.”

“Oh, so sorry.” You rolled your eyes before laughing at Eric’s seriousness. Pushing off the headboard, you crawled over to the end of the bed and kneeled on the mattress in front of Eric. His eyes followed your body, his own stiffening at your seductive stare. “Is that another blaster in your pocket, Mr. Trooper? Or are you just happy to see me?”

“Storm-trooper,” he corrected, his voice quiet as he slowly let the helmet slip back down. You sighed but quickly brushed it off.

“Mr. Stormtrooper.”

Good at foreplay

His nickname’s “foreplay” for a reason lmao

Well, it’s supposed to be an embarrassing nickname

But once he starts dating you, he becomes a bit proud of the nickname

“Eric.” You whined, squirming around on the bed. “Please, do something!”

“Shush.” Eric’s hands lightly trailed up and down your sides underneath your shirt, the contact making you shiver. “Be good, Y/n.” He lifted your shirt over your head, and you helped pull it off, throwing it somewhere in Eric’s room. 

Soon, you were almost naked, your underwear being the only thing covering you. Yet Eric completely avoided the place that ached for him most, no matter how much you begged.

“You’re such a tease.” You pouted.

“Oh, it’ll be worth it, baby,” Eric smirked as he lowered himself to the end of the bed, pushing your legs apart. “Just you wait.”

Back to roleplay real quick

Makes a lot of references to movies or comics

Either during sex or the reference leads to sex

Days where you and Eric had the house to yourselves were rare. With Red being retired, Hyde living in the basement, and the Forman’s house being the hangout spot for your friend group, it was hard to find alone time unless you wanted to be at your house or go somewhere in Eric’s car.

But on the rare days when no one was home, the two of you took full advantage of it.

“Spider-Man’s so cool,” Eric mumbled as he read through a comic book, holding it with one hand so his other arm could be wrapped around your shoulders while you watched TV.

Taking full advantage usually meant sitting in the living room instead of hiding in Eric’s room or the basement.

“I wanna be one of Charlie’s Angels so bad.” You responded as you watched Jill Munroe, Kelly Garrett, and Sabrina Duncan kick some ass. Eric looked up at the screen and smirked before looking at you.

“I’d let you interrogate me in a bikini.” You jokingly slapped his chest, making your boyfriend laugh before returning to his comic. “God, having web shooters would be so awesome. Swinging from building to building, fighting crime.”

“Yeah, and you can tie people up.” 

It was an offhand remark, as you were only half listening to Eric while watching TV. But then you felt Eric’s intense gaze on you, and when you made eye contact, you realized how he took what you said. His eyebrows raised suggestively, and soon, you were turning off the television, throwing the comic book onto the couch, and racing up to Eric’s room.

[thatrandomwriter]

Caught

Ghostface Stu Macher x Reader

Warnings: violence, swearing, sexual language, knife-play

Summary: What happens when Reader catches Stu before he can cover up the evidence of his latest murder?

It wasn’t like I’d never showed up to Stu’s unannounced before. In fact, I had done it plenty of times - either to surprise him, or simply because I could not be bothered to call ahead. But something felt off today, when I stepped through his unlocked front door and into his house. His was always leaving the front door open, even when his parents were out, which they had been for a few days now. I was always telling him to keep it locked, especially now with a killer on the loose, but he never managed to take my concern seriously.

“Hey, Stu, you upstairs?” I called up to him from the hallway.

“Yeah, I’ll just be a minute,” his voice raised at the end of the sentence, strained slightly.

I began to climb the stairs, “Everything okay?”

“Yep, yep, of course, just gimme a minute okay? One minute and I’m all yours, okay baby?”

I waited. One minute turned into five, and I decided that enough was enough. I finished my climb and pushed open his bedroom door.

“Stu?”

He turned to me, shirtless, his sweater bundled and bloody against his chest in one hand, a knife in the other. This was no kitchen knife, either, long and curved and dramatically pointed. It was the sort of knife meant for tearing through flesh.

“Stu,” I repeated his name - what else was there to say? His sweater was stained deeply red, he must have been in the middle of cleaning up whatever mess this was when I had arrived.

A grin broke out across his face. Then a laugh. My feet were frozen to the floor. This was a sound that should be heartening, but instead my stomach churned.

“Are you - are you the killer?” The words felt unnatural, ludicrous, even. Stu, my Stu, a killer? This was insane. There must be some other explanation for this, I thought, but still my body was frozen and my stomach felt choppy as an ocean.

“Oh baby, you’re so stupid,” Stu’s sweater had dropped to the floor, but he retained the knife, “How are you possibly surprised by this? Aren’t you supposed to know me better than anyone?” he pouted at me. Mocking.

“I thought I did,”

“Come on, now, don’t be like that - don’t act all high and mighty, hoity toity, morally superior,” he punctuated his sentence with the knife, gesturing into the air, “I know you get off on this shit - no-one watches Halloween that many times if they don’t want to fuck Micheal Myers,” Stu stepped towards me, slow and deliberate. I felt like prey.

My words stumbled, “That’s - it’s not true. And this is real life, not some movie, or a stupid fantasy,” So maybe I had an unhealthy interest in slashers. That was irrelevant. Micheal Myers had not killed any of my friends.

“Can’t I be your stupid fantasy?” He had backed me into a wall. There was no avoiding him now, no escape, no evading his touch. He placed an arm above my head, caging me in.

I felt cold metal sliding across my neck, down my chest. “Please don’t kill me,” my eyes were blurry with tears.

“Looks like you know your lines already,” Stu tilted his head down, lips making contact with my neck. Then teeth, pulling and sucking at the soft skin beneath his mouth. My breathing caught. I was achingly aware of the knife pressing into my side, and the feeling of him kissing my neck. My heart was pounding, and I was not sure which sensation contributed to it more - my persisting attraction to him, or the imminent threat posed upon me. Perhaps it was some strange combination of the two.

He pulled away to take in my face. I turned my head away, sure that if he saw my face directly, he would see the conflict on my face. But his hand gripped my jaw, turning my chin towards him so that his eyes could meet mine.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” He was grinning madly, “Now I need you to promise me baby, that you won’t tell anyone about this? I can make all your fantasies come true, but you know what I’d have to do if you told anyone, right?” His knife, which had been pressed into my side just enough for me to be aware of its presence, began to press deeper. Enough to make me gasp. Stu groaned. “You make such pretty noises, don’t you?” he pressed the knife against me harder. I felt it cutting, not deeply, but just enough to draw blood.

“I promise, I won’t tell anyone,” It was not as though I had a choice. But still, my breath was heavy. I did not hate this, or Stu, nearly as much as I should.

“Good,” Stu did not remove the knife straight away, instead sliding it forwards, lengthening the cut. I cringed, attempting to pull away from the burning sensation at my side, but Stu had me held in place. Tears slipped down my cheeks.

“I said I promise, okay?”

Stu leaned in, catching a tear on his tongue as it fell. The corners of his mouth twitched up. “Prove it to me,” he challenged. I was not sure exactly how I could fulfil his request, but I made my best guess, leaning up to kiss him on the mouth. The knife let up as my mouth slid against his, my chin upturned towards him. His hand found the back of my neck, cradling the back of my head in a movement that pressed my mouth further to his. My lips parted to allow his tongue to glide against mine, playful, teasing. The heat of his bare chest burned even through my clothing, igniting my skin wherever we made direct contact, burning even hotter in contrast to the cold blade now grazing my ribs. My body arched under its caress. It was so wrong for me to derive any enjoyment from this, but I had no choice, I told myself. I was doing this to stay alive, that was it, not because the sensation of Stu’s knife against my body made me feel alive, sending sparks shooting up my spine. My hands found his back, tracing the hollow of his spine, fingernails finding friction. Stu’s teeth caught on my lower lip, biting down to elicit a gasp from me.

“Can I really trust you, baby?” Stu had pulled away, only slightly, to murmur against my lips.

All I could manage was a nod.

The knife rose to my neck, “I need to hear you say it for me,” Stu’s eyes were wide, wild. I did not doubt in that moment that if I did not give him what he wanted, he would slit my throat and likely enjoy it. The thought had my breath hitching in my throat.

“You can trust me, I promise,”

His eyes narrowed, analysing my face, scanning for any insincerity. I scratched down his spine again with my fingernails and he groaned, leaning down to kiss me again, long and lingering, “You sure know how to make keeping you alive worth my while,”

[otomehoneyybearr]

Kagari Amagase

Be My Lover, Be My Beast

Ch1 | Ch2 | Sweet | Premium | Epilogue| Bonus

Warning: Mention of death

(I never expected this moment to come so soon.)

As I looked out the window of the swaying carriage,

The reflection I saw wasn’t the same person who had been happily munching on dorayaki a few hours ago.

My hair was beautifully arranged with a cherry blossom hairpin, and the petals dangling from it added a touch of delicate and ephemeral look.

When I lowered my gaze, I saw the vibrant kimono I was wearing, with its cream-colored fabric adorned with snowflakes and small flowers, its skirt flaring out like a dress.

(I’m happy to wear this kimono, but how did it come to this? No, more importantly...)

●●●●●● Flashback ●●●●●●

Kagari: "Please be my lover"

●●●●●● Flashback End ●●●●●●

(What did he mean by that...?)

Seeking answers, I looked at Prince Kagari, who was seated across from me.

Kagari: "What’s the matter? You seem restless."

Emma: "Prince Kagari, isn’t there something you need to tell to me?"

Kagari: "You look adorable. The kimono suits you."

Emma: "R-Really? Thank you— Wait, that’s not what I meant."

Kagari: "I know. Don’t worry, I didn’t mean it literally when I asked you to be my lover."

Emma: "So, what did you mean...?"

Kagari: "....."

A sudden silence fell, and Prince Kagari glanced at the sword beside him, letting out a small sigh.

Kagari: "There’s someone I need to convince that I have a lover, no matter what."

Kagari: "That’s why I want you to pretend to be my lover at the place we’re going to."

Kagari: "I considered paying a woman from the entertainment district, but it would be too obvious a lie or mistaken as a casual affair."

Kagari: "So will you help me? My kind-hearted Princess?"

Emma: "Calling me that doesn’t really help your case, you know?"

(I see. So that’s why I was made to change into this outfit... to look like his lover.)

(This is the first time Prince Kagari has asked me for something so seriously.)

(Whoever this person is must be very important to him.)

Prince Kagari has helped me in many situations.

Now that I have a chance to repay that kindness, I had no hesitation.

Emma: "I understand. If I can be of help, I’ll do my best to play the role of your lover."

Kagari: "I knew you’d say that. I appreciate it."

Kagari: "Think about what you want as a reward. I’ll get you whatever you wish for."

(He probably won’t take ‘nothing’ as an answer...)

Emma: "In that case, could you treat me to one more dorayaki from the sweets shop we just visited?"

Emma: "It was so delicious that I’m planning to try all the flavors while I’m in Kogyoku."

Kagari: "You could have asked for something more extravagant, yet you ask for so little."

Kagari: "Dorayaki, I’ll remember that."

Emma: "Thank you."

Emma: "Whoa...!?!"

The carriage jolted sharply, likely from riding over a stone.

The sudden movement lifted me from my seat, and I found myself caught by Prince Kagari in front of me.

Kagari: "Are you alright?"

Emma: "Yes, I’m sorry..."

(Although I’m grateful, this is so embarrassing... It looks like I just jumped into his arms.)

Kagari: "....."

His red hair was so close it brushed against my cheek, making my heart race.

I tried to pull away quickly, but for some reason, he grabbed both my arms, holding me in place.

Kagari: "I know I’m the one who asked, but are you really capable of playing the role of my lover?"

Emma: "I-I can do it… in my head, at least."

Kagari: "Just standing next to me isn’t enough to convince anyone that we’re lovers."

(Ugh… How did he see through me?)

Kagari: "It’s better to get used to it so you don’t give yourself away."

Kagari: "I’m doing this for you, shy little princess, so you won’t be acting so awkward just because we’re close."

Emma: "W-Wait...!"

Prince Kagari effortlessly lifted me up and seated me on his lap.

Who could have predicted the day I’d sit on a man’s lap? My whole body felt like it was about to burst into flames.

Kagari: "Let's stay like this until we reach our destination. You’ll have to get used to me, whether you like it or not."

Kagari: "And then we’ll hold hands, look into each other’s eyes..."

Kagari: "Ah, I almost forgot something important."

He intertwined his fingers with mine and pulled my head close with his other hand.

When I squirmed from the warmth that touched my neck, I heard a slightly dissatisfied voice.

Kagari: "Don’t move, or I won’t be able to put it on."

Emma: "You’re not talking about a hickey, are you?"

Kagari: "What else would I be putting on you? A cut?"

Emma: "That’s even worse!"

Emma: "I said I’d pretend to be your lover, but please don’t leave any marks on me."

(I didn’t expect this much physical contact...)

Kagari: "It’ll fade in a few days, won’t it?"

Emma: "Yes."

Kagari: "The I suppose kissing you here is out of the question too."

Emma: "Of course it is! Absolutely not!"

He lightly touched my lips with his fingers, and I felt my body temperature rise again.

Kagari: "…I don’t get it."

Kagari: "How is it any different from holding hands or touching each other like this?"

He tilted his head in genuine confusion, and I felt a wave of both embarrassment and surprise welled up inside me.

Emma: "While it’s similar in that it’s physical contact, a kiss on the lips is something that particularly expresses affection."

Emma: "It’s an act of confirming each other’s feelings and sharing happiness, and I want to save that for someone special."

Kagari: "Is that so?"

He looked slightly upward as if pondering, but I could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced.

Kagari: "I understand your perspective. I’ll be mindful from now on."

(I managed to express my thoughts clearly, but... was that really enough?)

(To Prince Kagari, a kiss isn’t about pleasure or conveying feelings emotions; it’s just a meaningless act of touching, like everything else we’re doing right now…)

Thinking that made me feel a little sad, as if I was the only one who was overly conscious of it.

Kagari: "Oh, that’s right. I had something to give you."

Emma: "Huh? What is it?"

Prince Kagari reached for a box attached to the carriage, as if he’d just remembered something.

(Oh...!)

What he pulled out was a dagger, and I found myself tensing up unconsciously.

Kagari: "In Kogyoku, not carrying a weapon is something only those with a death wish do."

Kagari: "If you don’t want to die a pointless death, keep this on you at all times."

For someone like me, who grew up in a peaceful place, the thought of carrying a weapon still felt a bit unsettling.

But here, being careless, even for a second, could cost me my life.

(If I don’t want to seem like someone who doesn’t value their life, then I guess…)

Emma: "...Thank you."

I accepted the short dagger with both hands.

It was heavier and more sturdy than I had imagined, and it felt like it weighed on my heart as well.

Kagari: "But if you ever want to die, let know me. I’ll make it painless for you."

(That’s the words of someone who’s seen a lot of death.)

Though I couldn’t read Prince Kagari’s emotions or thoughts from his expression, I could tell that he meant what he said.

Emma: "I... no matter how tough things get, I don’t think I’ll ever choose death myself."

Kagari: "That’s very much like you. Hold on to that thought."

Kagari: "...No matter what happens."

…..

(Wow...)

To my surprise, we had been brought to a casino.

The floor was bustling, and I had to raise my voice a little to even be heard.

Emma: "I didn’t know there were places like this in Kogyoku."

Kagari: "There’s been ongoing factional struggles in Kogyoku, with various countries supporting them."

Kagari: "Because of that, there’s a lot of cultural influence from outside. The casino is one of the results of that."

Emma: "I see..."

(And the person we’re here to see is somewhere in this place... I never would have guessed from the serious expression on his face when he asked me to do this.)

(Now I’m even more curious about who it is.)

Emma: "...."

A large hand wrapped around my waist and pulled me close, and I instinctively tensed up.

Kagari: "You didn’t cry out this time. A gold star for you, Princess."

My heart pounded at his low whisper in my ear, and all I could do was nod.

(If it weren’t for what happened in the carriage, this would’ve been bad.)

I moved my feet to match Prince Kagari’s as he began to walk.

(Come to think of it… it’s my first time wearing a kimono, so it should’ve been difficult to walk, yet I’m able to keep up with him...)

(No, it's more like he’s adjusting his pace to mine.)

I silently thanked him for his kindness and discreetly surveyed the area.

(Why do I feel like everyone’s staring at us?)

Emma: "Prince Kagari, is there something strange about me? Like, am I moving stiffly or have a strange expression...?"

Kagari: "The stares are more because of me than you."

Kagari: "It’s rare for me to come to a casino or to be seen with a woman for that matter."

(But I don’t remember ever being this blatantly stared at in town...)

(It’s like everyone here knows Prince Kagari very well.)

Emma: "Um, Prince Kagari, what kind of person is it that you want to convince you have a lover?"

Prev | Next

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[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 36

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 5k

Masterlist

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Monday, January 11; 06:00 AM - Ona and Alexia’s Room.

The usual blaring alarm sounds through the floor, followed by a thud in our room. I turn quickly when the warmth behind my back is no longer there. I hold back a laugh seeing Lucy lying between the two beds with her arm covering her face. My panic subsides when I hear her groan in displeasure, and I glance at Alexia, who shares my amusement.

“The first one I hear laughing will spend the day doing chores with me,” Lucy threatens us. “Seriously, is this really your wake-up call?”

“Welcome to student life,” I chuckle.

“I will never mock your wake-ups again.”

This time I laugh, earning a glare from her.

“I’m using the bathroom first!” announces Alexia as she gets out of bed.

“I’m not staying,” Lucy replies as Alexia disappears. “Do you have sweatpants and a jacket I can borrow to walk through the dorms?”

“Of course. Did you really walk through two buildings in that outfit yesterday?” I ask, surprised.

I observe her wearing just a T-shirt and shorts. She nods as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. It’s not like it’s minus ten outside.

“The instructor yesterday looked really worried. I didn’t really think about getting dressed.”

She’s crazy. I feel slightly guilty for worrying her so much. I don’t say anything and get up to find what she asked for in my wardrobe. I haven’t unpacked my suitcase yet, but I didn’t take all my clothes to her place. I hand her the clothes, and she puts them on over what she’s wearing to save time.

“I’ll check your room later when you’re in class,” she tells me. “Don’t take advantage of the time. Understood?”

I nod to her orders that clearly aren’t meant to be disobeyed, given her tone. She gives me a kiss on the cheek before heading towards the door. However, before leaving, she pauses as if she’s just realized her involuntary gesture, which leaves me speechless too. She turns back, looking embarrassed.

“Sorry, that wasn’t intentional.”

“No worries,” I laugh nervously.

“I’ll see you later.”

She quickly leaves my room, slamming the door behind her. I bring my hand to my cheek, and a silly smile spreads across my lips. This girl is going to drive me crazy if she continues like this, for sure. I snap out of my euphoric state when Alexia comes out of the bathroom, freshly prepared. Seeing her like this reminds me that I haven’t done anything yet. I quickly grab my things.

“She’s already gone?”

“Yeah... She probably wanted to avoid running into other students,” I defend her.

“My God... I can’t believe she agreed to sleep with you in that small bed.”

“I would never have managed to fall asleep if she hadn’t stayed,” I admit timidly. “You’ll keep that to yourself, right?”

“Who do you think I would tell?”

“Do I need to make a list?”

“No, that’s fine,” she laughs.

“Agreed,” I mock before heading to the bathroom myself.

I dress quickly before getting ready. Upon exiting, I find my bed made. I thank Alexia for doing this chore for me, and we head to the cafeteria to join our friends who are already there. Ella and Alessia honor us with their presence this morning, along with Laia. Our table is rarely this full. It seems no girl heard the commotion last night, so we decide not to mention it. It avoids a lot of problems if no one talks about it. I glance at Lucy’s table to find it empty. Neither Ingrid nor she are there. I’ll probably see her in her office later. We leave the cafeteria early for once, so we take advantage of it to go to the common room before our first class. We should receive our new schedules today. It will also be my last hours with Alexia since we will be definitely separated starting next Monday. When eight o’clock approaches, we part ways to go to our classrooms. We wait in the hallway with the rest of our class until the teacher opens the door. I am surprised to see Lucy walk past us during our wait. As I was slouched against the wall at the back of the line, I lean forward to watch her continue her path to my professor.

“What’s she doing here?” Alexia asks me.

“I have no idea.”

“She’s talking with the professor,” a classmate informs us. “Did you do something wrong this morning?” she laughs.

“Why does it always have to concern her? Maybe it’s about you, huh. Idiot,” Alexia retorts coldly.

I hold back laughter seeing the girl’s dismayed expression in front of us. She certainly didn’t expect to be shut down like that. She turns around sulking. Our class moves forward, a sign that the professor is finally allowing us to enter. We follow the pace in silence, and I greet our teacher as I pass him. I was ready to enter without further acknowledging Lucy’s presence, but she holds me back by the arm.

“Wait,” Lucy stops me. “You’re coming with me.”

“Why?” I frown.

“You should know the reasons.”

I look into my class where a murmur is heard. I notice that everyone is watching us. This prompts the professor to close the door for some privacy.

“Wiegman would like to see you to discuss your problems,” she tells me.

“Oh... Have you already gone to see her?”

“You gave me your consent...” she says with a hint of doubt.

“Yes, yes, I know,” I reassure her. “I didn’t think you’d do it so soon. You’re coming with me then?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“Why didn’t you talk about it earlier?” my professor asks. “We noticed you were quite tired, but we couldn’t guess. You should have mentioned it.”

“I spoke to Bronze, that’s more than enough,” I respond defensively.

“You need to talk to us about your problems if you want us to help too,” he insists.

“I already have all the help I need,” I say, pointing to Lucy.

“I’ll bring her back once we’re done,” Lucy interrupts, seeing my growing irritation.

“No problem, take your time. See you later.”

Lucy pulls me along after thanking and greeting him. We take the stairs to the ground floor. I didn’t expect her to go see our principal so quickly. She had warned me that we needed to find a solution quickly. She smiles when she notices my expression.

“What? Aren’t you happy to miss class?”

“No. Definitely not for what we’re going to do.”

“Relax. I already spoke with her this morning and proposed a solution that he finally accepted. It was hard to convince her, but I succeeded. She asked me to fetch you to get your opinion and consent.”

“My consent?” I ask, skeptical.

“Take your hands out of your pockets, please.”

“Sorry,” I mumble, rolling my eyes.

I immediately remove them to please her. I hadn’t even realized I’d done it. We exit the building, and I shield myself from the cold as we are greeted by a wave of icy wind.

“Did you go see her directly this morning then?”

“After getting ready, yes.”

“And so?”

“And so what?”

“Well... What’s the proposal?”

“Your crises vary, and as much as I like you, I don’t plan on making trips to the dorms every night. You can understand that, right?”

“Yes, obviously...” I say, lowering my head.

“So I asked to have you in my room again. I want to follow up on this issue personally.”

“Really?” I ask, stopping at this news.

“I wanted to have you placed in a room in our dorm, but it seems there are no more free. So I insisted that a bed be put in my room to accommodate you.”

“She really agreed to that!?”

“Let’s say the week I had you in my room convinced her. Plus, I’m the only one who can manage you, according to her. She knows you trust me.”

I nod, smiling. This idea delights me. The only thing that bothers me is being away from Alexia for a while. I hope at least it will be worth it, and I will manage to have full nights of sleep. Alexia never complained about it, but I noticed that my unexpected wake-ups affected her sleep. This is probably the best solution for now. Hopefully, it won’t be Lucy’s turn to be affected...

“I guess you don’t mind?” she asks me.

“No. We get along pretty well together, I think.”

“That’s true.”

“You do have a strong persuasive power, I must say.”

“Oh, it’s just a bit of good words, with a bit of good argument, mixed with my acting talent, and there you have it.”

“Acting talent?” I laugh. “Which one?”

“Hey,” she says, offended, pushing me. “I use it every day to hide our friendship.”

“Oh yeah? You’re not a real commander?” I tease her.

“How dare you! You should be the first to know that I’m not!” she pushes me again, making me laugh.

“Indeed, you’re an amazing person hiding behind what you’re not.”

“I’m not hiding, I’m working. Maybe I should pursue an acting career, don’t you think?”

“For you to get a big head? No thanks!”

“I wouldn’t get a big head,” she laughs.

“You don’t know that. I prefer not to risk it.”

“And why not?”

“I don’t want to lose the unique person beside me.”

“You won’t lose her.”

“I’m serious,” I say, looking at her. “You’ve become important to me.”

She smiles in response to my confession. She’s already told me that I’m important to her, but I wish I could hear it again. In the end, it’s too late to add anything. We’ve just arrived in front of the office doors. She lets me enter first, and I don’t need a guide to find Wiegman’s office. I’d rather not have to come back here. I don’t really like Wiegman; I find her scary. I stop in front of her door and turn to look at Lucy.

“You’re coming in with me?”

“That was the plan, yes. Do you prefer to go alone?”

“No, no. I want you with me.”

She nods and knocks on the door. I open it when we're allowed in. The director stands up to welcome us.

“Good morning, Ona.”

“Good morning, Ma’am.”

I shake the hand she extends. She invites me to sit in one of the chairs in front of her. I take the one in the back so Lucy can take the other.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good, and you?”

“Not too tired?”

“Why ask if you already know the answer?”

“Ona…” Lucy gently reprimands me.

“What? Let's get to the point. We all know why we're here, right?”

“She’s right,” Wiegman interjects. “Is this the first time these insomnia episodes have happened? Before coming here, I mean.”

“Not really,” I sigh. “I had them when I returned home, and then they came back during my withdrawal. It had been a few months since they stopped.”

“Can we know the reasons for these nightmares?”

“No,” I reply coldly.

I lower my head, clenching my fists. She better not force me to talk about it. She's definitely not the first person I’ll confide in. I feel Lucy's reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“I don’t think it’s necessary to break her down like this.”

“You're right; that’s not the goal. However, I’d like to know how you experience your episodes from the inside, if possible. It’s important for us to know. It will help us act better.”

I sigh deeply before explaining my feelings. She takes notes on everything I say, which annoys me. I feel like I'm talking to a doctor. Luckily Lucy is here, otherwise, I would have told her off already. I lower my head before starting.

“I-it’s like I completely lose control of my body. My heart races, my breathing becomes uncontrollable. My ears ring to the point where I can’t hear anything, and everything can worsen in a split second.”

“And so, Miss Bronze is the only one who can calm you down, according to my sources?”

“Yes. She’s the only one who cares about me and whom I trust,” I admit honestly. “Her presence reassures me.”

“Good…” he says, putting down his pen. “Miss Bronze suggested placing a bed in her room until this situation calms down. Does that work for you? I don’t want it to be a problem for you.”

“No…” I say, briefly glancing at Lucy. “If she doesn't mind waking up for me… I don't mind sharing a room with her. At least Alexia can get a full night's sleep, and it will avoid any disturbances or movements during the night.”

“Good. This will take effect starting tonight. I want it done with complete discretion. No one should know except the educators and your roommate. The bed will be placed during the day,” she informs Lucy. “If you still agree, of course.”

“I proposed the idea, so yes, of course.”

“I really emphasize that this idea must not spread in any way.”

“I will personally handle it if it starts to spread.”

“Hmm. This situation will only be temporary. Let’s say until the next vacation, in February. If there’s no improvement, other measures will be taken, such as a follow-up with a psychologist, for example.”

I grimace but nod, having no choice. I just need to find a solution to get rid of these nightmares. I don’t want to go that far over some restless nights. The discussion ends quickly after that. Lucy takes the time to thank him before we leave. We both take a deep breath once outside. She pushes me to make me understand to leave the offices.

“You didn’t tell me about this psychologist thing!”

“I wasn’t aware. We need to solve this problem now.”

“I know,” I sigh. “Thanks for defending me, by the way…”

“It’s normal,” she smiles. “Come on, I’ll walk you to class. Do you want me to take care of your things?”

“I can handle it.”

“We need to do this while the students are in class, Ona.”

“Well, then, do it. Just make sure to take my laptop, my iPod, and my headphones.”

“Okay, got it,” she chuckles. “Come on, hurry now. You’ve missed a good part of your class. I said I’d bring you back before the end.”

“Relax, I have two hours this morning.”

“That’s not an excuse, come on, move faster,” she reprimands me.

I laugh when she accompanies her words with a playful kick in the butt. I adjust my bag on my shoulders, and we walk to my classroom.

“How will it work then?”

“I’ll get your things now. As for you, you go through your day.”

“That’s it? And can I go to your room whenever I want?”

“No, absolutely not,” she shakes her head. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but we need to stay discreet, remember?”

“So…?”

“You do like every day. You have access to my room only to sleep. We’ll meet every night after the cafeteria or when you’re done hanging out with your friends, your choice.”

“Okay…”

“Does that work for you?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Sorry,” she grimaces. “I wish we could do it differently, but those are Wiegman’s conditions. She doesn’t want it to be known, you know that.”

“Great,” I sigh, stopping in front of my classroom door. “Can we see each other later?”

“If you want. I’ll be in the office. If not, ask Ingrid; she’ll know where I am.”

I nod, and she knocks on the door right after. She opens the door after getting permission from my teacher. She apologizes for the disturbance and steps aside to let me in. I do so without much conviction, not feeling motivated to return to class.

“See you later,” she whispers.

She thanks my teacher while I sit next to Alexia. She closes the door just as the bell indicates the end of the first hour. Unexpectedly, our teacher grants us a break, allowing Alexia to bombard me with questions. The teacher said nothing, so she didn't know where I was. I wait for the others to leave the class to explain what just happened. I wrote everything down on a piece of paper to stay as discreet as possible and avoid prying ears. It's not like they insisted on this detail. Anyway, Alexia had no choice but to be informed since we share the same room. The class resumes after the five-minute exceptional break. I try to focus, but it’s very difficult since I missed half of it. Plus, Alexia keeps wanting to chat. For once, I’m not the troublemaker between us. We managed to anger the teacher, who reminded us to behave and has been keeping an eye on us since. He asked me to stay after class. I hope it’s not to scold me because it’s not my fault this time!

“Alexia Putellas!” he reprimands her yet again. “Please follow the lesson instead of bothering your neighbor! Just because it’s the last week doesn’t mean you shouldn’t pay attention! Continue like this, and I’ll send you to the instructors.”

I snicker at my roommate's grumbling. It wasn’t hard to warn her. This teacher is too predictable. The ten o’clock break finally rings, much to Alexia’s delight. Everyone leaves the room, even Alexia, who waits for me behind the door as I asked her to. I approach the desk after gathering my things in my bag. He looks up when he sees me.

“Miss Batlle. Here,” he says, handing me a form that I quickly look at. “Try to stay on the right track without being influenced. You’ve managed to convince some teachers… and the opposite.”

Knowing the comments that came out of the class council, I know what he’s talking about. I’ve criticized this teacher a lot throughout the year, but knowing he defended me makes me regret my words.

“Will I still have you as a teacher?” I ask.

“No, I’ll be teaching another class, which is why I wish you the best.”

I thank him before leaving the room. I smile as I examine my new schedule. My time slots don’t change much. I still have Friday afternoons off, and I even finish an hour earlier on Wednesdays, at two o’clock. However, I’m skeptical about not having my math teacher anymore. I don’t understand much of his lessons, but he was one of the few to support me when everyone was against me. I put the sheet in my bag and go out to join Alexia to enjoy the rest of our break.

Monday, January 11; 5:30 PM - Ona and Alexia’s Room

“I still can’t believe Wiegman agreed to this. Seriously, you’re going to end up alone with Bronze in her room! It’s surprising given the restrictions she put because of Jenni.”

We’ve just gotten to the room, and she clearly couldn’t hold it in any longer. She wanted to discuss it several times, but I cut her off to make her understand that it wasn’t possible around the students.

“She managed to persuade her. Don’t ask me how, I have no idea.”

“She’s still stealing my roommate!”

“I’ll only be there at night, Alexia. She doesn’t want me to hang out in her room otherwise.”

“I’m sure that will change very quickly!”

“Of course not. She already told me we’ll go to her room together every night.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I assure you, I’ll still be here for a long time.”

I open my wardrobe after my last words, and the smile I had fades away. Alexia quickly comes up behind me to look over my shoulder, curious about my silence. She bursts out laughing.

“Staying here, huh? Maybe that's why your wardrobe is empty.”

“Damn it,” I grumble. “Why did she take everything?”

I expected her to take my uniforms, some pajamas, and underwear. But not almost everything! All that's left are a few T-shirts and some insignificant jeans. Why would she take my clothes when I'm not even allowed to wear them during the week? As I rummage around, I notice that my art supplies are also gone, and my suitcase next to the wardrobe is missing too. I check my things in the bathroom, and it's the same result. It's as if I don't live in this room anymore. Yet she clearly told me I could only access her room at night.

“Still, I'll miss you, Oni.”

She pouts adorably. It would’ve touched me if she hadn't used that nickname that only people from Barcelona use. She’s never called me that before… It clicks in my head.

“Don't tell me you're talking to Mapi?”

She stiffens slightly in my arms at my question, which says a lot about the answer.

“Oops… Does it bother you?”

I can't believe this! It's not that it bothers me, but if they start talking about me, it could get awkward. Who knows what Mapi might tell her with everything she knows about me. Especially about Lucy. Oh my God! I really hope she hasn’t said anything! I take a deep breath and shake my head.

“Of course not.”

“Cool... So, shall we join the others?” she distracts me.

“Yeah, sure,” I say, skeptical. “Let’s do that.”

We put our jackets back on, which we had just taken off, and head down to the common room where the boys are already there, playing foosball. Alexia joins them while I sit with those who chose not to play—Leah, Patri, Claudia, and Lotte.

“Everything okay, Princess?” Leah asks when I sit down next to her.

“Stop all calling me that.”

“I’m the only one who calls you that here,” she says, confused.

“To be honest, no,” I laugh.

“But no one in our group calls you that,” Claudia adds.

“You’re hiding people from us?” Patri teases.

“Not at all.”

I rest my head on Leah’s shoulder, and she doesn’t seem to mind. I’m not usually touchy, but she’s the person I get along with best after Alexia. I remember she was the first person I talked to at the table on the first night. We clicked instantly, and I guess it’s stayed that way.

“So, how are you really doing?” she asks again.

“Exhausted, but I’ll be fine.”

“Partied too hard this weekend?” Lotte jokes.

“Not even!”

“You went home?”

“Uh, yeah. I was with Mapi,” I lie. “Is that *The Walking Dead* on TV?” I change the subject.

“Yeah, but it’s impossible to follow with all this noise.”

She’s absolutely right. I’ve always said the TV in this room is useless given the constant noise. Unfortunately, it’s the only one we have. I watch the scenes from the show, which I hated at first. But I ended up liking it because Mapi made me watch it with her. After a few minutes, I realize I’ve already seen this episode, so I zone out.

“Looking forward to having me in your class?” Leah jokes, making me vibrate with laughter.

“I’m glad we’ll get to spend more time together. I think Alessia and Lotte will be with us too, right?” I say, looking at them.

I gaze at Alessia a bit longer when I realize I haven’t heard her voice since I’ve been with them. She just nods with a small smile, which I return. Finally, I sit back on the couch.

“We’ll see how it goes. I’m not particularly good at math or anything.”

“So how did you get into management?” Patri teases.

“I raised my grades thanks to Bronze,” I shrug.

“Why pursue it if it’s not your strong suit?” Alessia asks.

“It’ll help with my projects… or at least I hope so.”

I hunch my shoulders when someone lightly taps my head. I look up to see who did it. I expected Alexia, but a smile stretches across my face when I see Lucy. She’s leaning over me.

“Speak of the devil…”

“Oh, you were talking about me?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “I hope it was good.”

“Of course. I’d never talk badly about you.”

“Sure. Go ahead, mock me,” she says, playfully nudging me, which makes me laugh.

“Never.”

“Right. For that, you’re coming with me to my office.”

I lose my smile when I notice she’s no longer joking. I quickly review my day in my head, worried I’ve done something wrong.

“Come on, get up.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“What did I do?”

“Nothing. I just want you to catch up on the class you missed this morning.”

“You’re kidding,” I groan. “It’s my last week. Why should I catch up?”

“Because I spoke with your teacher, and it seems you’re studying a chapter you’ll cover in your new section. I also know you weren’t very attentive during your second hour because of Miss Putellas, so you’ll do me the favor of getting your butt off the couch unless you want me to do it for you.”

“Fine, you win,” I grumble.

She has a satisfied smile when I comply. My friends tease me for being weak, but Lucy quickly makes them regret their words. I stop by the foosball table to tell Alexia I’ll join them in the cafeteria later. After that, I follow Lucy to her office after grabbing my things from my room. It’s hard to believe she actually intends to make me study, but it seems like she really will. When we arrive, I flop into a chair in front of her desk. I start taking out my supplies without any motivation. Ingrid isn’t even here to entertain me. I stop rummaging through my bag when laughter echoes in the previously silent room.

“You’re way too naive, Ona.”

“You tricked me?” I ask, uncertain.

“Never,” she smiles, amused.

“Oh yeah? You’re like that?” I pretend to be offended.

“Well, I can’t help it if you fall for it so easily.”

“Okay, fine. You’re going to regret this.”

She laughs at me as I decide to sulk. It wasn’t funny at all to make me think I’d be working. I really thought I would be.

“Oh, come on. It was the only excuse to get you here.”

I stay quiet, wanting to show her she shouldn’t have done that. She could’ve at least told me or hinted at it differently.

“You’re really going to sulk over this? I thought you had a better sense of humor.”

She keeps talking, trying desperately to get a reaction out of me, which makes me laugh internally. I stay stone-faced until she’s genuinely worried, which I find very cute. I’m almost disappointed when she gives up on making me smile. Now she’s the one sulking, her maturity left behind. I finally smile, but it seems to have no effect on her now sour mood. I start to regret resisting her for so long.

“You’re really going to start working like nothing happened?” I joke.

She doesn’t answer. To prove she’s serious, she pulls out some papers and puts on those glasses I love so much.

“You’re adorable,” I blurt out.

“Okay, are you done sulking?” she asks, looking up.

“And you?” I reply.

We look at each other for a moment before laughing. We’re like kids together, and I love it. I shake my head to get a grip. This hour could have been the most boring and least important of my life, but it’s not. No hour with Lucy is a waste of time. I bite my lip at this thought. I really need to calm down. I’m getting my hopes up for nothing.

“Why did you take all my stuff when I’m not allowed to hang out in your room?”

“Remind me what you’re doing this weekend? I didn’t want to make a thousand trips. I figured I’d take everything at once.”

“Oh…”

“It’s much more convenient, isn’t it? You’re not going to scatter your things everywhere either.”

“True.”

“Well,” she says, glancing at the time. “I thought we’d have more time to talk, but it’s dinner time. Your friends must be waiting for you. Let’s meet in the hall outside the cafeteria in an hour, okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, a little disappointed. “See you later.”

I pack up my things and leave her office. I smile softly, thinking it wasn’t the evening I imagined. I didn’t do much, but it was pretty cool though.

Monday, January 11, 8:00 PM - Cafeteria.

My meal went relatively well this evening, as it usually does. Since we all have different passions and hobbies, the discussions vary a lot. Everyone enjoys the variety it brings to the table. I'm chatting with Alessia as we leave the cafeteria. I discovered that she loves art as well, which gave us plenty to talk about tonight. I saw Lucy leave a good ten minutes ago. I don't know if she waited for me, but I quickly get my answer when I see her waiting outside with a book in her hands. At least I don’t have to look for her. I apologize to Alessia, pretending I need to ask Lucy something. I give a general “good night” after telling them not to wait up for me.

"See you later," Alexia says, kissing my cheek.

I smile at how she can play along, even if no one seems to have noticed what she did. I wait for them to leave before joining Lucy.

"Hey!" I call out once I’m close.

"I thought you'd be quicker," she replies, closing her book.

"Sorry, I got caught up talking," I admit honestly.

"I noticed. Let's go. I've waited long enough."

We waste no time heading to her room. It feels like I’m stepping back in time a few weeks as I follow her. I lie down on the single bed that will be mine for the next few days. I smile when I see my things scattered across her desk and my suitcase right next to it.

"You shower at night, right?" she asks.

"Yeah. Waking up at six is already tough enough without having to shower in the morning like I used to."

"Lightweight," she smiles. "Well, you know how the shower works and everything."

"You shower in the morning?"

"Yes, after my run. I’ll save some time now that you're here. Ingrid is going to check Alexia’s room."

"Right."

"Do you want me to set the alarm for six-thirty? That way, you can have a few extra minutes in the morning."

"No, leave it at six, please. I don't want to mess up my routine, knowing I won't be here forever. Besides, thirty minutes won’t make a difference."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes. Six o'clock," I confirm.

"Alright, as you wish," she says, setting the alarm.

It’s true they don't have alarms like we do in our dorm. They’re allowed to manage their wake-up times as they like. Well, not entirely, since Bronze has to check our room. I would have much preferred to have my own alarm too.

"Can I go take a shower?"

"Of course, you don’t need to ask me. Make yourself at home."

"Thanks."

I grab pajamas, a fresh pair of underwear, and my toiletry bag from my suitcase, then lock myself in her bathroom. After stripping off my clothes, I step directly under the jets. It helps me clear my mind. I hope tonight won’t be as bad as I fear. I need this to end soon, for my own sake and for those around me. I don't want to burden Lucy or impose on her by sharing a room, even though it was her idea. Deep down, I’m afraid of losing control in her presence. Afraid she’ll discover the reasons behind my nightmares. But also afraid of getting too attached to her—more than I already am—and going crazy over her and that damn perfect body. Just thinking about it, I change the temperature of the shower to cold to snap myself out of it before it’s too late.

[astrowaffles]

Moonlight

General Audiences | JJK Actor AU

“Who did you kiss at midnight?”

“I kissed my wife,” Toji shrugged. “I wasn’t at the New Year’s party, I was at home.”

“Oh, there was a party?”

“How do you think everyone ended up knowing everyone else’s business?” he snorted. “Especially Megumi’s. That poor kid…”

“Everyone keeps mentioning Megumi’s kiss! Do you know who it was?”

“Oh, no, it’s not something I’d ask,” Toji backtracked. “Like I say, I was at home with my wife. I’m really too old to be on this set, I’m probably the oldest by like ten years.”

“Really? How old is Mr Gojo?”

“God, I don’t know. He isn’t thirty yet.”

“And no-one except you is married, is that right?”

“I’ve never asked, but I don’t think anyone else wears a wedding ring,” Toji agreed. “Makes New Year’s all the more fun, eh?”

OR: the cast answer the question: “Who did you kiss at midnight?”

“Who did you kiss at midnight?”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: mechamaru's real name is Kokichi Muta.

“I was under the table eating grapes,” Nobara confessed. “And to be honest, I don’t think it’s worked. I’m still as single as ever, a whole week in.”

“Do you think that’ll change?” the interviewer asked. Nobara laughed.

“Listen, if people don’t want all this-“ she gestured to herself – “then what can we do? They’ll just have to suffer their lonely, empty lives. I’m not suffering, I already have myself.”

“So it’s just a bit of fun?”

“Yeah, I don’t really take these superstitions seriously-“

“-And that’s why she was genuinely distraught that it didn’t work,” Megumi interrupted, handing Nobara a scrunchie.

“Distraught?! I wasn’t distraught!”

“Tie your hair up, you’ve got a fake wound to put on. And yes you were, you were clinging to poor Satoru for dear life. His Versace shirt got wet, and he had to throw it away.”

“Why did he throw away a perfectly good shirt just because it was wet?” Nobara asked, distracted.

“He’s just like that. Are you gonna tie your hair up? We have places to be.”

“But I was talking to the interview lady!”

“No, no, it’s alright,” the interviewer assured them. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Hmph.” Nobara dragged as much hair as she could into a ponytail at the base of her skull, and then grabbed Megumi’s arm. “Let’s go then. You’ve probably got fake blood to be dripped on you. You’ve always got fake blood to be dripped on you.”

-

-

“What’s this obsession with kissing people? I think I was with Yu at midnight,” Nanami said, looking thoughtful.

“As in, Yu Haibara?” the interviewer clarified.

“Yeah. I guess it’s confusing, having both Yuji and Yu on set at the same time. And Yuta’s meant to be here soon… Anyway, I’m pretty sure we were watching the countdown – he was talking about otters, I think…?”

-

-

“I kissed my beautiful girlfriend,” Shoko smiled. “It’s going to be a good year this year!”

-

-

“It’s a secret,” Gojo winked.

“Does that mean you didn’t kiss anyone?” asked the interviewer cheekily.

Gojo laughed. “You can think whatever you want, honey. I just know I’m not ready to tell the world who I kissed.”

-

-

“I kissed Miwa!” Kokichi grinned, arm slung around his girlfriend.

She giggled. “Here’s to another year!”

-

-

“Why, are you volunteering?” Toge asked, eyebrow raised.

The interviewer gawped. “What?”

Toge cackled.

“He’s kidding,” Yuta sighed. “I think.”

“I’m kidding,” Toge agreed, wiping a tear from his eye. “I am completely single and not looking to change that, thank you so much.”

“So you didn’t kiss anyone at midnight?” the interviewer checked.

“Not a soul. Would’ve smudged my face paint,” Toge confirmed. “I don’t think many people kissed, but Nobara was definitely eating grapes under the table, so maybe that’ll be different next year.”

“Kokichi did,” Yuta mused.

“He literally has a whole girlfriend, of course he did.”

“Megumi did.”

“Megumi di- MEGUMI DID?!” Toge turned to look Yuta full in the face, horrified. “WHO DID HE KISS?”

“If he hasn’t told you, that means he didn’t want to know,” Yuta shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. “I probably shouldn’t have told you.”

“If I find out he’s been hiding this on purpose, the little shit-“

“Please mind your language on camera,” the interviewer chided gently.

“My bad. I’m just gonna- gonna go see Megumi for a minute.” Toge swivelled his head around the room, eyeing everyone beadily.

“He’s in the break room,” Yuta said helpfully, and then realised what he’d said. “Whoops.”

“Thanks, Yuta. I knew I could count on you.” With a pat to Yuta’s shoulder, Toge stalked off, looking furious.

Yuta turned back to the camera. “They grew up together,” he explained.

“Did you kiss anyone at midnight, Mr Okkotsu?” the interviewer enquired, clearly desperate to get the interview back on track.

“Who, me?” Yuta rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh…”

“He actually turned down a kiss, can you believe it?!” another voice called, off camera. The camera turned to reveal Maki, still in costume, huge spear over her shoulder. “Oh, not from me,” she added, probably spotting a look on the interviewer’s face. “From one of the costume girls. She was really cute, too…”

“You’re not getting many juicy stories, are you?” Yuta asked sympathetically. “Hmm, who would have a good story…?”

“Where’s Toge? He’d know,” Maki pointed out.

“Just gone to hunt out Megumi.”

“About New Year’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Which idiot told him?!”

“That would be me…” Yuta’s ears turned red at the tips. “In my defence, I thought Megumi would’ve told him!”

“So the good story is Megumi’s, then?” the interviewer asked.

Yuta and Maki looked at each other. “Try someone else first,” Yuta hedged. “Oh look, there’s Toji!”

-

-

“I kissed my wife,” Toji shrugged. “I wasn’t at the New Year’s party, I was at home.”

“Oh, there was a party?”

“How do you think everyone ended up knowing everyone else’s business?” he snorted. “Especially Megumi’s. That poor kid…”

“Everyone keeps mentioning Megumi’s kiss! Do you know who it was?”

“Oh, no, it’s not something I’d ask,” Toji backtracked. “Like I say, I was at home with my wife. I’m really too old to be on this set, I’m probably the oldest by like ten years.”

“Really? How old is Mr Gojo?”

“God, I don’t know. He isn’t thirty yet.”

“And no-one except you is married, is that right?”

“I’ve never asked, but I don’t think anyone else wears a wedding ring,” Toji agreed. “Makes New Year’s all the more fun, eh?”

-

-

Yuji turned bright red. “I, uh – I probably need to discuss with them before I tell you anything.”

“Oh, I see. Was it one of your fellow cast members?”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Don’t worry, you haven’t given us any clues – loads of them are near your age!”

He laughed nervously. “That’s true enough. Someone else might have a better story. I don’t know who’s on set today? It’s definitely Yuta’s day, but his story is boring – did you know he turned down five offers and spent the countdown trying to catch olives in his mouth that Toge was throwing? I don’t know if-“

“You’re rambling,” said Nobara, from her spot on the floor behind. “And it was the other way around. Toge was catching the olives.”

“Oh, of course. Yuta doesn’t even like olives. Anyway-“

“I think Geto’s next door,” Nobara offered. “He definitely kissed someone at midnight.”

-

-

“Oh, I did kiss someone, I’m just not saying who,” Geto laughed. “It was someone famous.”

“One of your cast mates?”

“Mhm. Really, though, there’s loads of them, so that’s not any more information than you started with.”

“Can you give us a clue?”

“Absolutely not. They’d sue me.”

“You’re quite open about your sexuality; was it a man?”

“Absolutely it was a man! But again, there’s only one or two women in this cast, so that doesn’t really help much.”

“You should probably bear in mind we’re asking everyone on set today who they kissed at midnight.”

“And if he’s not on set today?”

“Well, there is that…”

“I wouldn’t really mind if you did find out, I’m not quite on that level of fame yet. It wouldn’t affect me much, since I’m not an idol anymore. It might kill him, though – not his career! He just might die of embarrassment.”

“In that case, we’ll leave you! I’m sure the fans will find out sooner or later.”

“They do have some scary powers,” Geto agreed. “Why don’t you find Megumi? He kissed someone, I think.”

-

-

Eventually, the cameras found Megumi and Yuji whispering in a corner together. When the interviewer waved at them, Yuji’s eyes widened like a deer in the headlights. He started whispering furiously to Megumi; the interviewer respectfully kept the microphone away until they’d finished.

“Mr Itadori has already answered this question,” she began.

“Oh, I heard,” Megumi nodded. Yuji winced.

“Oh, um – is this a bad time, then?” the interviewer hesistated.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Megumi shrugged. “I think we’ve come to our conclusion.”

“Wonderful!” the interviewer smiled, clearly extremely confused. “In that case, who did you kiss at midnight, Mr Fushiguro? Did you kiss anyone at all?”

“I did kiss someone. I kissed Yuji.”

Silence.

“Okay, I know I said you could say it, but that sounded really awkward-“

“Shut up, Yuji, I think she’s gone into shock.” Megumi put his hands on the interviewer’s shoulders, trying to get a sense of her breathing rate without getting too close.

“Oh my god. Try to reassure her while I find a first aid person,” Yuji said, before thinking better of it. “Wait, no. I’ll reassure her, you find a first aid person.”

Megumi rolled his eyes, but speed-walked off to find someone to help. Meanwhile, Yuji calmly reassured the interviewer that everything was fine, nothing had gone wrong, everything would be okay.

Neither of them were entirely sure why exactly she was so shocked.

-

-

“-So basically, she expected me to say Mai or something,” Megumi shrugged. “I think. I don’t think anyone’s really sure, but it was the surprise that got her. She’s not homophobic or anything.”

Next to him, the interviewer smiled. “Absolutely not! I think it’s lovely that you two have gotten so close over your time on set. I hope we see more moments in season two!”

Yuji thought about this. “I mean, I guess there is? Mainly, season two is-“

“THAT’S WHERE YOU ARE!” someone yelled. There was a loud crash, and the door burst open; Toge, hair released from its gel-inflicted helmet, face paint smudged into a blue beard, careened into the room and skidded to a stop just behind Megumi. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU’D KISSED-“

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Megumi pointed out. “Can you leave?”

“I’M SO BETRAYED RIGHT NOW,” Toge continued, steamrolling right over Megumi. “AND YOU KISSED YUJI? TALL-WOMAN-WITH-A-BIG-ASS YUJI??”

“Megumi’s tall! Ish,” Yuji defended, making Toge jump.

“My bad, bro,” he said. “I didn’t realise you were here.”

“Clearly,” Megumi huffed.

“Does Satoru know about this?”

“…No….”

“You told the internet before you told Satoru??”

“We were gonna tell him before this came out!”

“Oh my god, he is gonna kill you,” Toge said gleefully.

“Who’s gonna kill who?” someone else asked. A mop of white hair peeked round the door. “Are we still doing interviews right now?”

“Uh oh,” said Yuji.

“Uh oh,” Toge agreed, grinning madly.

Megumi stared at the sunglasses slowly making their way around the doorframe. “I’m gonna have to tell him now, aren’t I.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what?” asked Gojo, stepping fully into the room. “It can’t be that bad. Like, what ridiculous thing could you possibly tell me?”

“Maybe that he kissed Yuji?!” Toge interrupted before Megumi could even open his mouth.

“Thanks, man,” Megumi said sarcastically.

“Is that true?” Gojo asked, still calm.

“…Yes.”

There was a long pause.

Gojo opened his mouth, then closed it again. He stared closely at Megumi, who stared back. Then he stared closely at Yuji, who looked more and more terrified by the minute.

Eventually, Gojo decided to break the tense silence.

“If you get pregnant, I’m not financing it.”

“WHAT?!”

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