#Search for the ultimate street car

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

01 — TOO YOUNG TO KNOW IT GETS BETTER

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

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You almost worshipped him.

It wasn’t because of his status – although, that certainly played a role in it all – and it wasn’t because of his bank statements.

No. Phillip Graves was one of the best men you’d ever known.

Or so you had thought.

Turns out, no matter how well he looked after his men – his ‘girl’ – and no matter how charismatic he was, that wouldn’t, couldn't change his roots. And, at those very roots, was decay. Evil in its most purest of forms; a tantalisingly devastating mix of every sin.

The most prevalent one?

Greed. 

He was a greedy, greedy man, and he would stop at nothing to have it all. Even if he knew the fall out; even if he knew that he could never go back to the man he once was.

Phillip Graves didn’t care. Not in the slightest.

And it was you that would pay the ultimate price.

*

Rain beats down your back in heavy sheets as you stand, the harsh night littered with flashlights and car sirens.

It’s cool, just this side of too cold, and it has the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the temperature.

The temperature, and…

“Yup-yup,” the two men to your right call into their comms. You remain silent, but it goes unnoticed. Your eyes are trained to the paved street, rippling with the rainwater, littered with streaks of red.

Blood stains this town, and you haven't done anything to stop it.

“Let’s go.”

Raising your head, you meet the eyes of the operative who, ranks-wise, is below you. Really, you should be reprimanding him for his quip, but you understand the annoyance. You’re being quiet – something quite unusual for your normally direct and authoritative nature.

Tightening your grip around the shiny, water-slicked gun in your hand, you give him a sharp nod in response.

Seemingly satisfied, he turns, and you follow him along the sidewalk of the narrow, stone streets. Shops line either side of the area, their front-windows smashed and the products inside thrown about.

It’s like your heart has launched itself into your throat, the constant thrum of it setting your nerves alight.

“Three-zero, I want you and your two to find those Brits. We’ve got the cops. Copy?” 

That once reassuring, adoring voice is now cold, void of any emotion he used to have. It makes tears burn at the back of your vision – if you were a weaker woman, they’d have fallen. Instead, you press down the button for your comms.

“Copy, Sir. Three-zero out.”

The fact that you manage to get those words out is a feat in and of its own.

It feels as though you’re lost at sea, with nothing to hold onto. Buoyant, but barely – every wave threatening to pull you under for good. To smother your silent cries for help, for guidance, for something to keep you grounded.

But there is no sea, and there is no support.

“You two go up ahead, I’ll search the house here,” you say, voice thick with demand. You didn’t have to decide anything right now. You just had to be the leader you were, and do what you’ve always done.

“Copy,” your two subordinates say, moving up further.

With their absence, you find that you can breathe – as if a weight has been lifted off of your chest, and you can finally fill your lungs.

You’re alive. You’re alive. You’re alive.

The mantra helps, surprisingly, and you hold onto those two words like they’re your only lifeline.

Through the thick of night and rain, you can see the door to the house on your left. It’s been left open, which means that either it’s already been searched – which you doubt – or… Someone else has been in there.

Gun secured in your grip, you move to the door with soft footing, quiet enough to not be heard over the shouts of other shadows just a few ways away. The constant pattering of the overhead storm clouds slow, just the slightest, allowing for a bit more sight.

Using your shoulder to further open the door with a creak, you take note of your surroundings immediately.

There’s a flickering light to the room on your far right, a living area, most likely. To your left is a short hallway, but none of the doors alert you of any occupancy. The place has been torn apart, pictures scattered along the wooden floor, shards of glass decorating the space along with it.

It sends a pang of guilt through your chest.

These were families being torn apart by your commander, your company. And for what? What was Graves’ angle here? 

You’d been left on base to keep things running smoothly while Graves and unit one worked with the 141 and Las Vaqueros. You knew very little about any of this, and when you’d been called out to Las Almas, to aid with this?

This wasn’t what you fought for. This wasn’t what you would ever support, not in a million years.

But going against direct orders was going against your commander, and your livelihood. Shadow Company was all you’d known since your childhood. Having been hired when Graves was merely a young-upstart with big dreams, you were quickly swept up in the community of it all. They were your family, and Graves was the only semblance of a ‘loved one’ you had.

And now?

Now, he was sending you on a bounty hunt, for two men who, from your limited knowledge, didn’t deserve death. They were the good guys, and although most of your existing bias towards the two was due to rumours back on base, your intuition said that they were good men. And your intuition had never steered you wrong, not once.

Your mind feels like a never ending turbine as you move through the house, eyeing the barren walls and smashed vases. 

Exhaling a low, deep breath, you tighten your hold on your weapon. It’s more of a comfort, at this point. Which is odd, considering that its sole purpose is to kill and destroy.

Through the dim light, you manage to find a set of stairs. They’re dingy, and the patterned carpet is mildew-riddled as you make your way to the next floor with slow, careful steps.

You’ve decided to keep your flashlight off, just in case it brings any extra attention to you.

As soon as you make it to the last step, a sense of… wrongness settles in your system. Something’s off, and it’s almost as if there’s an alarm ringing in your ears at the realisation. 

Someone’s here.

Grounding yourself, both mentally and physically, you prepare to push through the hallway.

Setting aside your mental dilemma, you remind yourself that the physical battle is far more vital to your life right now. If you lose that, you lose your life.

If you lose your morals?

You just suppose you lose yourself.

The sound of a radio switching on has your senses alerted like a switchboard completely alight. 

Stepping into the hallway, your chest constricting, you snap your gaze to both of your sides. With the little-to-no light, you can barely make out your limbs, let alone your surroundings. Your spatial awareness was solid, but with conditions like this? Near impossible.

The entire corridor is shrouded in shadow, the incessant rain outside and the screams of the cartel’s policemen ringing in your ears. 

It reeks of death and despair, and your skin is coated in a thin sheen of chilled sweat.

The third door to your left is creaked open, just the slightest sliver, but it catches your attention like a moth to a flame. Keeping your frame encased in the darkest of the shadows, you move with patient, skillful steps towards the door.

A moment passes, tense and nerve-wracking in a way no other mission has ever been.

A breath in.

A breath out.

You push open the door, gun raised, ready for anything –

Nothing.

Quickly checking over the room to your right, you see nothing but bashed up mattresses and blood-stained carpet.

Just as you’re about to turn to check behind the door, two things happen at once.

One, you get slammed to the ground, your head knocking against the hard flooring and sending a burst of pain through your temple, your gun skidding across the floor to your left.

Two –

“Fuckin’ Christ!”

A man – scottish, that much is prevalent – whisper-shouts. You squint, the pain of the sudden fall throwing you off.

Not a second later, however, you manage to roll, shoving him off of you with a grunt. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness, but you manage to make out the impossibly muscled frame of the man who’d just fallen on top of you.

He’s tall, not as giant as some of the men you served alongside with, but tall nonetheless. That’s all of the visual information you manage to gain before he sends an elbow to your gut, evoking a hiss through your gritted teeth.

You wriggle away, kicking out with your right foot and hitting what you think is his chin, considering his pained grunt.

“You bloody bastard,” he snaps, hand wrapping around your ankle and pulling you.

Your responding squeak is likely the most undignified sound you have ever made in your life, but it gives the man pause. Enough of one so as to allow you to wrench your leg back and careen it back into his face.

“Shut the fuck up!” You hiss back, all too aware of the likelihood that your men will show up and shoot first, ask later. 

“Are you feckin’ stupid, lass?” He retorts, although his tone is dutifully lower as he scrambles to grab your legs once more, his fist finding your belt and pulling you towards him.

Your attempts to dig your heels into the ground to prevent yourself from being pinned by him are fruitless, his strength undoubtedly superior to yours. That was a fact all too common when it came to your hand-to-hand fights, but luckily, it was just one factor of many.

“Are you?” Your shock is palpable as he gets his other hand around the other side of your belt, using the grip to pull himself over you.

His torso is pressed against your own as he goes to pin your hands, but with one quick manoeuvre, you wrap your legs around his waist and turn.

Utilising your lower body strength, you’re able to reverse the position, your hips pinning his to the ground. In one sweep of your hands, you collect both of his wrists and force them into the carpet. The room fills with your harsh, panted breaths, the outside commotion only a distant soundtrack.

“Yer supposed to kill me now, Shadow,” he says, a torment, a threat. 

You swallow, once, an unsure thing. 

He’s right, of course. He should be dead by now, bleeding out onto the floor. You should be comming to your fucking Commander, and telling him that one of the men he’s after has just been reported KIA. That’s what should be happening.

So how come it’s not?

“I know,” you say, the words falling through your lips despite the internal conflict in your head. “You should be dead.”

He mirrors your confusion with raised brows, and it’s then that you can feel the blood trickling onto your hand. He’s bleeding down his arm, you realise with a start. He’s wounded.

Flitting your gaze to the floor up ahead, you catch sight of your gun, only a few steps away. One shot is all you’d need. One second, and that mouth of his would never open again.

The sole window in the room flashes with a burst of lightning, and that short second of light lets you catch sight of his features. Blood coats his jaw – from your kicks, maybe – and he’s got dirt caked onto his cheek. His stubble has clearly missed a few shaves, and his mohawk isn’t gelled.

“Still waiting, Shadow,” he says. And although he’s quiet, the words feel like a yell in the tense room. Like a shout directly into your soul, screaming for you to sort your shit out.

You go to respond – with what, you’re not sure – when the man underneath you manages to rip his hands from your grip and swing them around the back of your neck. He pulls you forward, your neck fitting into the crook of his elbow as he squeezes.

When you try to inhale, you end up choking on a cough. He’s strangling you, you realise, with his fucking biceps.

There’s mere moments for you to make a decision before you pass out, or he breaks your neck. Moments for you to decide what the fuck you can do.

Balling your right hand into a tight fist, you punch into his nose, a sickening crack making your teeth slide together. He swears, rapid-fire, a few Gaelic-sounding words slipping out along with them. It’s enough of a distraction to let you wrench out of his hold with a cough, wincing when you claw at his arm and draw blood. Thank fuck for fingerless gloves.

Crawling forward as he brings a hand up to his now-bleeding nose, you’re just a breath away from reaching your gun when his hand grabs into your hair and pulls, eliciting a cry from you.

It’s a dirty move, but this is a dirty fight.

“Fucking – let go!” You grit out, the pain of the tightening on your scalp unique and not at all tolerable.

He just pulls tighter in response, and as you try and reach the gun, your fingers fall just millimetres short. It’s maddening, your emotions out of whack and your mental compass skewed beyond belief.

He should be fucking dead. He should be fucking dead.

So why wasn’t he?

You realise that he’s using his grip on you for leverage, to move himself closer to the weapon. Reaching towards his bare arm, you manage to catch your hand around it, nails digging into his wet skin.

He lets out a pained groan, and it becomes quickly apparent to you that he’s been shot in that arm. Moving your fingers, your index finger pushes into the open wound.

His grip on your hair goes lax, and he stops moving towards the gun long enough to allow you to move on top of him once more, pinning him underneath your weight. You’re both evidently weaker than the last time you were in this position, and you’re about to do something, something, something –

“Johnny? How copy?” An urgent, oddly panicked voice echoes around the room. It’s crackled, in only the way a radio’s can, and the two of you stun yourselves into freezing. His communications have been dislocated, and now they’re loud and clear for both of you to hear. “Johnny, what the fuck is happening?”

“Shit,” Johnny curses, head falling back against the ground in exasperation. 

You’re not sure when you’d laxed your grip from his wound, your hand loose around his arm. You’re not sure when you’d subconsciously started avoiding fatal moves.

At this point, you’re not sure about anything at all.

Although it’s hard to see, you’re sure that the two of you make eye contact.

Neither of you make a move.

“Soap!”

Slowly, Johnny moves his hand to the communicator in his vest, pressing the button to allow for his voice to carry over to the man on the other end. 

“A little occupied, Sir,” he murmurs, tightly.

If you move your hand to his throat, or use this as a distraction, you could have him dead before the other man could even register his words.

“I can’t get a visual on you,” the other man quips back, voice laced with thinly-veiled worry. “Johnny, if you die, I’m fuckin’ killing your ass.”

You bite back a slightly crazed chuckle at that statement, and by the shift in Johnny’s chest, he does too.

Johnny doesn’t turn off his communicator. The other man – Ghost, if you’re correct – will be able to hear everything you say.

Ghost and Soap.

Jesus H. Christ. Soap – Johnny MacTavish – the 141 operator you heard whispers about throughout your unit – he was underneath you. He was on the run from your commander. He was the man you were assigned to fucking kill.

He’s alive.

He’s alive.

You’re alive.

“Shadow Three-Zero, what’s your status?”

Oh, fuck. Fucking hell.

Both you and Johnny’s eyes dart to your own communicator – the earpiece scattered along the floor just as his had been.

Graves’ voice. It sends a shiver down your spine for all the wrong reasons, and the lump in your throat doubles in size. If it’s at all possible, the rain outside grows louder, and more gunshots echo in your ears.

“Shadow Three-Zero. Have you got ‘em? Don’t go two-timing me now, babe.”

How he’s – how he’s being so light, so carefree while storming these streets and murdering fathers, brothers, sons in cold blood – it cements a thought in your head. Out of the storm of them, the endless noise of them all, one becomes concrete. Factual. A single truth in your world of lies.

You press down your communicator button.

“Haven’t found them yet, sir. Wouldn’t dream of going against you.”

“Atta girl,” he responds, a light chuckle carrying over the radio. “After this is all done, we can have a celebration of our own, hey?”

Your mouth is barren of moisture, your tongue a heavy weight that feels all too useless as you reply once more. It doesn’t go unnoticed how neither Soap, or Ghost over the comms, say a word.

“It’ll be my pleasure, sir.”

You rip off your communicator, throwing it across the room. It sets the course of the rest of your life, you’re sure. You still do it.

All the while, you hold Soap’s gaze.

He hasn’t killed you. He could’ve, you realise, he really could’ve. He had the opportunity. Still does.

But.

You’re alive.

And so is he.

“What’re you doin’, Shadow?” Johnny finally asks, equally suspicious and curious. His tone is tight, almost as much as his body is against your own. 

You’d almost forgotten that he’s underneath you. Weaponless, and bleeding out. Wounded.

On the run.

Your eyes are wide, manic, maybe, as you say with shaky breaths;

“This isn’t right. I – I don’t fight for this. You guys, you,” squeezing your eyes shut, if only for a brief moment, you continue, slower, “This isn’t the Graves I know. I’m not going to be on the wrong side of history. I’d rather betray him than stand by his side with blood on my hands.”

Soap must sense your conviction, your wobbly words holding such truth and capability in them, because he nods, sharply.

“Johnny,” the radio chimes in again, the man’s tone a warning. “Don’t.”

Soap works his mouth, a crease forming between his blood-stained brows. If you were at all a poet, you’d akin his blue eyes to a storm-brewed sea. But you’re a soldier, so they’re merely obvious in the window’s scarce light, a stark contrast to the reds and darkness all around you both.

You’re not sure what’s wrong with you. You’d clearly hit your head too hard when Soap had crashed into you, or you’d been drugged earlier.

“I have intel,” you blurt out, like a crazed lunatic. That description is, unfortunately, a little too fitting to your current state. “I’m – I’m a fucking good fighter. You help me, I help you.”

“We don’t need your help,” Soap quickly, almost automatically, retorts. But his words seem weak, his certainty nowhere on your own.

“You’re shot and on the run with no weapons,” you reply, slowly. Words. You were good at words, at debates. You could survive this. Maybe. “I know Graves. I know my men. And I know that I’d rather be a traitor than a war criminal.”

That’s maybe the most true thing you’d thought, or said, since you’d first been asked to head to Las Almas with an order to kill.

There’s silence. 

A few beats pass before you open your mouth once more, tone just this side of pleading, “I’ll help you guys survive this. If you help me take down Graves, and support me – if you give me the assets I need. That’s all I’m asking.”

“We don’t trust you,” Soap says, and you nod.

“I don’t exactly have faith in you either. But it’s this or we all end up dead.”

Ghost inputs something, this time. “If you two make it to the church, we’ll consider it.”

That’s the most you can ask for. The best possible outcome from you being the biggest fucking idiot to walk this earth. You were lucky that Soap was… merciful. Which was, all things considered, the weirdest component of this entire, messed up equation.

It seems like agreement passes through you all, like a sort of handshake. An invisible one, but a symbol of truce nonetheless.

“Get yer ass offa me,” Soap groans, breaking the tension of the room. 

Scrambling off of him, but keeping your wits about you, you realise that you’d virtually been laying on the man your entire conversation. Your ears burn in embarrassment.

“...Right. I’m taking my gun,” you murmur.

Which is, obviously, the worst thing to say.

“Are you feckin’ serious? Dinnae wanna work with an idiot, Jesus,” Soap immediately hisses out, getting up with a hand on his knee, bringing his other to press against his bullet wound with a wince. You think that Ghost says something similar, but it’s drowned out by Soap.

“I’m best with close-range, and I’m not the one wounded,” you immediately bite back, hand wrapping around said weapon and holding it to your chest, checking over the room for any more supplies. Luckily, unlike the man in front of you, you still have all of your supplies and gear. His top is thin, you think, and soaked through with both rain and blood. Your standard Shadow Company uniform still fits you like a second skin, and although wet, doesn’t soak into your bottom layers. Your tactical knife, still strapped to your thigh, is secure and perfectly in place.

How you’d not used it in that fight was a testament to your mindscape more than anything.

“How do I know ye won’t just shoot me when my back’s turned?” Soap shoots back, his tone a weapon in its own right. 

You raise a brow, and you hope that he can see it. “I would’ve done that already if that was my plan. And you’re calling me an idiot.”

“You’re a right ass,” he retorts, not unlike a petulant child.

“And you’re a right dickhead.” And, alright, you realise that you’re not much better, but it’s deserved.

“And you both need to hurry the fuck up.”

You and Soap both have the decency to wince at the man’s words, and you both shut up as you finish checking over yourselves. You, focusing on checking your straps and belt, and Soap, hissing about his wound.

…If this camaraderie lasted the night, you’d think about apologising for that move.

Checking over your gun, you move to slowly open the door as Soap fixes up his radio, putting his earpiece back in its place. You are, admittedly, a bit annoyed that you won’t be able to hear Ghost’s callouts, but again, you had a gun.

“Let’s go,” you softly say, tilting your head towards the door. Soap nods, clearly ready to meet back up with his Lieutenant and get out of here.

As you slowly open the door, guns raised and eyes alert, you let the reality of your situation settle over you like the world’s coldest blanket. You’re going against everything you’ve ever known, all because of your morals that had always been slightly off-centre. Came with the job, you supposed.

But this was uncharted territory. Directly betraying your unit, your men, your Commander, and helping the men you’re assigned to kill? Asking them for their help in return?

“Clear,” you softly report to Soap, who acknowledges your order with a low noise. Following you with silent steps down the stairs, you keep your gun raised as you check over the bottom floor, before signalling for him to exit through the front door with you.

As the two of you enter the laneway once more, your breath catches in your throat as you assess the damage.

You spot several bodies littering the streets as rain hits you once more, the presence of it oddly comforting throughout it all. A truck up ahead has its lights on, the red of the brakes shining against the wet pavement like the pools of blood not three metres away from it.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Soap murmurs from behind you, and you can’t help but agree with his sentiment.

This was pure bloodshed, at the hands of the one man you thought you could trust.

Betrayal tastes oddly sour in your mouth. Betrayal like this, on all sides, it’s like being suffocated by two cloths at once. Two very bloody, very assaulting cloths, at that.

Soap seems to be communicating with Ghost as the two of you make your way down the street, considering the back-and-forth whispers from Soap. He seems almost. Flirty. Which is a stark realisation, and truly, the least of your worries right now.

“If you can find bandages, or something close to it, I’ll get that arm of yours fixed up.”

You keep your tone low, careful of your surroundings as you see Soap nod, albeit almost in shock, in your periphery. Keeping your gaze forward, you move along the sidewalk.

The beauty of these shops, and this community, has been tarnished by the massacre of your Shadows. Your heart aches, seeing it all – the smashed windows, the blood, the distant sound of screaming and crying.

You and Soap make it about a block in silence, before flashlights ahead have you grabbing onto Soap’s shirt and pulling him into the open door of the shop to your left, heart beating rapidly in your chest.

“Shadow Three-Zero’s gone silent,” you hear a familiar voice say. Your subordinate – one of the two you’d sent to check the houses up ahead. “Reckon she’s dead?”

Soap, for his part, is silent where he’s been pushed up against the wall, your head meeting his collarbone. 

“Nah. She mighta slept her way to the top, but she’s good. Probably gone dark so she can suck Graves off on the side or something.”

Your breath comes out in a sharp exhale, your fists tightening unknowingly onto the fabric of Soap’s shirt. He doesn’t even breathe in response.

The other chuckles. “Fuckin’ slut. Can’t believe she gets to order us around when we all know why she’s here.”

And, oh, does that make your stomach turn. You were many things, but you were not one to abuse a position like that. They knew nothing of your struggles, or your relationships, or –

“Fuckin’ cocksuckers,” Soap grumbles, and that shocks you. For a man in the military to recognise misogyny like that was, really, unheard of.

You ignore that thought.

“Shut up.”

He does.

The two Shadows continue walking down the street, and you quickly peer out of the front window to watch them head down another sidealley, taking their thoughts with them.

“Come on,” is all you say, and Johnny follows tightly behind you as you continue down the way you were heading. 

You find an alleyway to your left, and you decide to follow it. You can see a flashlight scanning over the street further down. Shadows were everywhere, but they were pushing forward like a tsunami over a coastal town, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake.

Soap follows you without question, which is odd, but you’re not about to complain.

“Ghost says that there’s underground tunnels – we can get to the church through ‘em,” Soap murmurs as he taps your shoulder. You nod, not looking back as you search for any telling of where the best route would be.

After a few minutes, the two of you find yourselves nearing the tunnels Ghost had spoken about.

It’s when you’re about to head into the deep end – quite literally, considering the flooding – that an all too familiar and bone-chilling voice yells out from the right of you both, down another street.

“She’s gone dark – you will find her alive, and if she’s dead, you will be too!” Graves roars, and your heart skips a beat. “She could be hurt, or captured – she is your top priority now, Shadows!”

There’s a chorus of agreement, and if you look down, you’re almost certain that you’ll find your stomach laying at your feet.

A greedy, greedy man. That was what Phillip Graves was – now, more than ever.

If you were a weaker woman, a civilian, maybe, instead of a seasoned soldier, you’d have vomited by now.

Instead, you shoot Soap a look.

“Ghost still at the church?” Is all you ask.

Soap nods. “Yeah. Lt’s talkin’ my ear off,” he says with an eye roll, but his lips quirk into a half-tilted grin more resemblant of a satisfied pup.

“Didn’t think the 141 was so close,” you reply, and you could slap yourself for how nosy you sound. You’re not, not in the slightest – all you cared about was surviving both Graves and them.

Soap’s eyes hold an indecipherable gleam to them when he responds, a touch domestically, “You have no idea.”

You itch to delve deeper, to unpack that statement that seems to hold so many layers, but you keep your mouth respectfully shut.

And you prepare to meet Ghost at the end of the tunnel.

a/n. cutely drops this and hides!! jk but umm idk man this fic idea has been nibbling at my brain and GAWDDD smth about it just. got the juices flowing. this is my personality now thanks gn. if you guys enjoyed please comment or reblog or follow!! ty so very muchly ily all &lt;3

[sturnstar169]

I Miss You (pt 1)

(matt sturniolo)

warnings: no smut (yet!!) lotta fluff, crying, angst??????? i think that’s it

A/n: I didn’t say the time but pretend it’s like 11/12 at night LMAO

based off these texts

I sent him a “see you soon” text and get “ready” to go see him (sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt). I get in my car and don’t even need directions and just go off memory from how many times i’ve gone over to his house.

I get to his street and all the memories of us when we were together hit me like a train. i feel my face get hot and tears form in my eyes. I let out broken sobs and continue driving down his street with blurry vision.

I pull into the driveway and continue crying, not able to slow the tears. I knock on the door a couple times and then stand patiently. Matt opens the door with a small smile that quickly fades when he sees my state.

“Oh sweetheart.. c’mere.” He says as he pulls me into a tights hug

The soft smell of him on his hoodie is enough to keep the tears flowing down my cheeks.

“it’s alright, it’s okay, i promise.” He says into my hair as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head.

“Matt— I.. don’t kiss me.. we aren’t together..” I say through sobs as more tears fall.

“that doesn’t matter right now, okay?” He said it sweetly and softly, like he was talking to a child.

I nuzzled my face further into his hoodie. He smelled good, it was comforting. My crying slowed down as he continued holding me. I don’t remember when but he moved us inside. He always knew how to comfort me and get me through things.

“I-“

“Shh.. it’s alright.” He cut me off with a sweet voice and a gentle kiss to my forehead.

I waited a couple seconds before trying to speak again.

“Matt I miss you.. too much.” I say quietly, my voice breaking slightly.

“I know, y/n. Me too.” He said it sadly and just as quiet as me.

“So why can’t w-“

“Y/n. C’mon. You know why.” He says sternly but reminding himself of my current state.

“Matt— please.. I miss us.” I say, desperately looking into his eyes, searching for any reciprocation.

He looks away from me, avoiding my gaze.

“Y/n, if you’re just trying to get back together I suggest you go. I asked you to come over so we could talk and you could feel better, not so we could date again.” He said more sternly than before, disregarding my fragile state.

I feel tears start in my eyes again but I try to hold them back, trying not to be a baby about it.

“I think— I am gonna go— I—“ I try to finish my sentence but can’t stop myself from crying.

I look at Matt one last time before walking out of his house sobbing again. When I glanced back at him, he was faced away, clearly hurt as well but seemingly trying to hide it.

I get in my car and drive home. Fast. I wanted him to be concerned at how recklessly I was driving.

I get home, tears staining my cheeks and shirt. I look at my phone which at buzzed just a minute earlier.

It was a text from Matt. He sent a couple texts, i could tell was clearly worried by how many texts he sent. I guess my attempt at getting him concerned worked.

“I’m sorry”

“Y/n I’m so sorry”

“Sweetheart?”

“Answer please”

“Y/n answer I wanna know you’re okay”

“Please”

“I’m sorry y/n”

I read the spew of texts and ultimately decided to leave him on read. I wanted nothing more than to text him back telling him it was okay and i forgave him, but I was really trying not to give in.

I get into my bed and get under the covers, crying my eyes out as I looked at cute pictures of me and Matt together until I eventually fell asleep, forgetting to plug my phone in.

This was so ass LMAO

go read pt 2!!

[cloverdaisies]

# THE LOVE POTION

eric sohn x gn!reader/ collab! 007 files w/ @winterchimez

— “you must locate, befriend & kill agent sohn.”

description: the infamous english spy eric sohn! travels into europe searching for an encryption that serves as a communication link for the secret service rival spectre.. it’s sohn’s mission to retrieve the device and return it to safe hands.. however upon arrival his ultimate distraction is you, can you craft the perfect potion that will make 007 fall in love?

genre & warnings: from russia with love! 007 au! 60s au! love triangle! betrayal & romance! mentions of blood! violence! mentions of death/ killing! but no actual character deaths! cursing! alcohol consumption! mentions weapons! kissing & other mildly suggestive themes! pls lmk if i’ve missed anything!

word count: 6k+

a/n: dt: @sohnric happy belated birthday bar 🤍 wellll … what can i say???? this is overdue !! do excuse my hiatus & messy schedule.. i would like to say a massive thank to @winterchimez for inviting me to collab with you for this event !! it REALLY pushed me out of my comfort zone & throughly enjoyed perfecting this plot as much as i could as a big challenge.. sorry for being so late … 🤍 please do go check out the others work for this event which you can find here and enjoy!

Devilishly you smiled to yourself in the mirror as you pulled on your white satin gloves and fastened a thin pearl necklace around your neck.

“Tea?” Your advisor of sorts, Sangyeon, suggested, gesturing a hand towards the teapot with a smile of generosity. “You’ve got a long week ahead, is it not better to relax now y/n?”

Sangyeon was a taller man, with darkish hair and buttery highlights that glimmered with sufficient light source. He wore a long black blazer with tailored trousers and a fitted white shirt to polish him perfectly. He’d been assigned to look over matters concerning your work, making sure you weren’t up to anything suspicious and meet your personal needs when required. Despite him being so helpful, there was something that irked you about his unwavering presence and constant eye over your activity.

Turning your neck ever so slightly, you grimaced letting out a small huff thinking of the mission you’d been proposed a little over the week ago by the organisation higher-ups.

“I suppose so. I mean…” You cleared your throat before chuckling quietly. “It’s going to be hard to fool one of the the top english spies, is it not? I’ve heard he’s a bit of a charmer. I can’t quite understand why I’ve been hired.”

“Quite so. He’s always got company you could say.” Sangyeon laughed in return, pouring the steaming hot tea from the pot with a gentle hand. “That being said, despite his charm you need to be incredibly careful not to reveal anything and stay on your guard at all times.”

“I always am. No man charms me. Id do anything for the mother country.” You reached out to grab the china teacup off it’s saucer and took it to your lips to sip.

“I definitely charm you, don’t I?” He retorted with a sly wink and a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

“Oh you wish.” You scoffed, placing the cup back down and shuddering at the comment before returning to the mirror to fix your appearance. “Besides, I have a dinner party at 8pm and I don’t need your loitering to be dampening my mood. Thank you for the pastries though, you should consider opening a bakery.”

“I’m glad you liked them. I’ll be back to escort you to your car then.” Sangyeon sighed, leaving the hotel suite with a soft close of the door.

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ📰☕️🎬ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

In England, the sound of a melancholy low trumpet hummed over scene from a street player outside, fading into the open window of a grand office. It was almost sunset, the sky tinting a pale shade of orange amongst dark clouds.

“It’s been 2 days since the killing of that agent they masked as you and you’ve got 3 hours until that flight to Istanbul! Do you understand the consequences if you don’t retrieve that lektor Sohn? That cipher machine connects their entire military intelligence and you’re walking around with a blinking target on your head! ” M recited to Sohn, between his fingers a thick cigar emitting a cloud of heavy smoke.

M, the head of the British Secret service, was addressing what was the assassination attempt of Sohn at a British military facility earlier that week. Sohn had been giving a mission to retrieve a soviet device called the lektor, a cipher machine developed to connect communications.

“I’m very aware, I’ll play my cards right when I get there.” Sohn replied, his lips twisting into a sly smirk as he was being lectured by the higher up.

“Very well.” M sighed rising from his chair, leaving his cigar to rest in a glass dish before retrieving a brief case from the side of his desk. “In that case, there’s 20 rounds of ammunition, flat throwing knives and a 0.25 caliber, rifle that folds it has infrared sight. Use this when you need it and don’t let it out your sight.”

“Thank you very much.” His fingers wrapped around his crystal glass of whiskey, Eric took a sip before inspecting the case with a smug smile. “I best be off.”

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ📰☕️🎬ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

As the evening settled in Istanbul, the dinner party had began not being invited to sit at the table yourself, you felt quite disappointed your importance in the operation had been significantly swept aside. Upon arrival you quickly recognized a ruddy faced man with a well kept moustache, his hair turning a dark grey with age and was smartly dressed in the cream suit that had been described to you by Sangyeon.

“Hello, I give my deepest apologies for interrupting your conversation. However, I must speak to you in private sir.” You gently tapped on the man’s shoulder, watching him jovially turn with attention.

“Very well, may I ask your name? What can I do for you?” The man answered almost like a store keeper with polite customer service, as if a mask of required kindness had been veiled over his face.

“I’m Y/N, L/N, former agent associated with spectre. I have quite the infatuation with Eric Sohn, I heard he was travelling to the country this evening and I was hoping I could help assist his duties.” You replied opening your eyes like an innocent fawn in attempts to convince your ‘pure’ intentions.

“What’s your interest with Mr. Sohn? How am I meant to trust your being genuine, Y/N, is it?” The head of the British Secret Service in Istanbul spoke softly to you as you chewed at your inner lips nervously. Politely observing your attire, his lips twisting into a curious smile.

Sticking to the script, you began. “I’d be willing to betray this country, for the man has me quite swooned. Therefore, if you would be ever so kind to introduce me to Eric Sohn himself, I’d be ever so grateful. It could get me killed if you tell any other soul.” You spoke eloquently, your demeanour slightly mischievous as you attempted to charm the gentleman.

“If that’s so. I’m sure he’d be happy to meet you.” He returned a smile , turning away from you likely to confront Eric about the matters. Your grin almost resembled that of the cheshire cat, deviously imagining the plans success.

“Aren’t you quite the actor?” The voice of Sangyeon behind you caused you to jolt in fear, in case it was one of the agents unaware of the mission assigned to you.

“You just scared the living day lights out of me, can you not just go jumping out of the shadows at me like that?” You brought your hand out to your chest and let out a sigh of relief.

“It’s what I’m trained to do sweetheart.” He chuckled, patting your head like a lost puppy before pacing himself around to the other side of you.

“Seems your plans going smoothly, you have someone approaching you, west.” He quickly pointed over to where Eric Sohn was with gentleman you spoke to earlier.

It came as no surprise to you that the man was incredibly handsome, his smile as he spoke to the other was just magical it served as almost a charm and worked on people like a spell. It was a smile that evoked emotions inexplicable, love, desire, a false sense of comfort that could easily be used as a weapon for betrayal. It was no wonder he was the most sought after member of the secret service in his country, his looks alone could turn his every target into his puppet. He was smartly dressed like described in a classic black tuxedo, a briefcase slotted into his right hand, his hair an enchanting shade of platinum blonde that emphasised his defined bone structure, a jawline so dangerous it could tear paper.

Almost choking on your previous words that no man could charm you, you gulped slightly, clearing your throat and fixing your posture as he approached.

“Allow me to introduce you to Y/N L/N who I’d briefly mentioned earlier.” The gentleman in the cream attire held out his hand to greet you, gently shaking it with a two hands.

“Hello y/n, I’m Eric Sohn. Its delightful to meet such a gem amongst all these people.” He leaned to great you with a polite kiss on the cheek, gently shaking your hand. Every feeling of morality in your body shuddered, nervously feeling the limbs in your body grow weak almost as if you were one flirtatious comment away from fainting.

“It’s such a divine pleasure to meet you too, I’ve been dying to finally get the chance to meet you in person. I’m such an admirer of you work.” You quickly gathered yourself together and carefully spoke with a soft velvety voice.

“Shall we go for a walk in the gardens?” Eric suggested, his eyebrow raising curiously as he also observed your attire and features.

“I’d be more than glad.” You responded as he held his arm out towards you to link, gently taking your arm and walking you out the grand marble doors.

The night was darker than usual, with a dull moon and stars that twinkled pathetically amongst thick clouds. However the bright lights that had been messily strung across the hedges lit up the the scene warmly. The sound of the blue piano being played from the inside faintly bled out into the garden along with indistinguishable chatter from guests up in the main hall.

“I must ask y/n, what gave you interest in the British Secret Service in the first place?” He began as you walked the side of the grounds arm in arm.

“Well… I felt as if my position in the country wasn’t appreciated enough. I don’t agree with their morale or treatment regarding myself.” You replied gracefully, glancing over to the tidy man. His presence radiated that of a tough masculine self assured nature. He looked at you with suspicion, allowing his guard to remain up like a fence.

“Well it’s in my best interest to not trust your intentions immediately, but I believe the information that resides with you is incredibly valuable to me and my mission.” He took a moment to take a breath before a cocky smirk crawled on to his lips. “Therefore, to test this loyalty of yours. I have to request a map, one of the military base that holds the lektor I’m after. Provide this and you earn my trust, sweetheart.”

You gulped for a moment, you had specifically been told not to leak any intelligence or assist him in anyway. You couldn’t foil his plans by providing a false map either, your hands were tied and even he knew that. Him and his manipulation tactics. He knew sly ways around people, you providing this map would mean surrendering all your loyalty to the secret service and despite having feelings inexplicable for the man beside you, you couldn’t give up what meant most to you. You had to figure out a plan.

“When do you want me to provide this to you?” You attempted the mask the fear that lingered in your throat, strangling your words with thick ropes that made you sound as if you’d seen several ghosts appear before you.

“Tonight, slip it behind the fourth pillar beside the stairs by 10 and I’ll soon be there to pick it up." He smiled, there was something sinister about his words as if he knew that it would be almost impossible for you to hatch a plan within that time.

“Very well, it will be there.” You took a breath momentarily, his warm touch departing you as he proceeded back into the large building. He turned back to you a last time, giving you a sly wink before going upstairs with a bright smile on his lips.

“Are you out of your damn mind? You are aware he’s drawing you right in his trap?” Sangyeon appeared from behind one of the pillars outside, having followed you around the entire time. “He’s not an idiot, he’s trapping you, you providing that map will lead him straight to his plan.”

“Then you best tell them to prepare.” You rolled your eyes, watching his serious dark eyes stare into your conscience. “If I don’t give him this, we lose all trust. He’s not an idiot but perhaps you are, now leave me be.”

You breezed past him, making sure to shoulder check him before making your way back into the hall with a bitter smile on your face. Going into the bathrooms on the left side of the building, you took a pen from your bag and began to map out a rough sketch of the secured military base housing the lektor Sohn was after. Folding it between your fingers, you left the bathroom, discreetly dropping it by the pillar he’d asked you too.

You grabbed a glass of prosecco from one of the many waiters dotted around the function room and joined Sangyeon’s friendly conversation with other associates. Nervously, your attention wavered from the bubbles appearing at the top of the champagne flute, to over your shoulder where Sohn was now making his way behind the pillar.

He walked around it as if he was daydreaming, picking the sheet of paper up and sliding it into his pocket. He gave you a brief smile before proceeding back to his gaggle of officials who’d be overseeing his work in the country.

“I think it’s home time for us.” Sangyeon closed the conversation with a sigh, placing a firm but soft hand on your shoulder. You smiled at the group of men in front of you, before slipping past them arm linked with Sangyeon.

“The officials aren’t pleased with you.” Sangyeon muttered through pursed lips. “However, they understand that you sincerely had no other choice."

"And? Are they preparing?" You replied raising one eyebrow cockily.

"They can't assign enough men to cover the base tomorrow. However if Sohn gets his hands on the device, which is unlikely, they're use as much forces as they can to retrieve it back." Sangyeon sighed at the seemingly idiotic plan, his rough palm wiping the illusion of sweat from his forehead and loosening his slim black tie as you elegantly slipped into the parked Mercedes.

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ📰☕️🎬ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

The quiet hums of soft jazz fell across the café like a warm blanket, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and a plethora of pastries baked earlier that morning danced through the air as if it were a spritz of expensive perfume. Outside, rain fell like hail, beating the ground like drumbeats and forming puddles that resembled ponds or even lakes.

Upon first encounter it would seem that you had your nose stuck into an edition of wuthering heights your eyes flickering over the nonsensical words, so often turning a page with a dramatic sigh. However, the act of appearing busy wore you out like no other, your fingers rested on the right side of your face with impatient taps.

“Well… What a surprise to see you here!” An almost sarcastic voice sounded as the bell chimed over the café alerting you from the words on the page.

Your eyes snapped to Eric Sohn, neatly dressed as usual in a tuxedo with pin stripes, the outfit missing the blazer but tied together with a waistcoat. If you hadn’t been so stressed about the date, you would have fainted over his rolled up dress shirt that exposed his toned forearms. You would have been a mess, but that’s not the point at hand.

“Well yes, I do enjoy a morning read, you could say.” You smiled, almost grimacing at the script-like conversation. Finding yourself almost upset you had to talk to him that way, wishing you could genuinely talk to the man on a level that wasn’t inevitably leading to the utter destruction of betrayal.

“You seem like you’re away with the fairies this morning, what’s on your mind?” He sat beside you for a moment, his elbows rested on the table behind him. His face was just above your head, eyes looming over you suspiciously.

“I’m just worried.” You replied simply, packing your things into your bag with a short huff. Awaiting you both was Sohn’s plan to breach the military base that very afternoon.

“How so?” He chuckled almost, smile lines breaking out in his cheeks, his grin lighting up his every feature, helping you to climb down from the stool you’d sat on.

“Well, what happens if this doesn’t go to plan?” You looked him in his deep brown eyes that glistened so prettily under the warm lighting, his smile dampening quickly.

“In my way or yours?” He smirked cockily, turning from you to leave the café, briefly turning to check you were following. However, you stood frozen still, what does that mean? Your plan hadn’t worked? Your blood ran cold, he’d truly had you wrapped around his finger, he knew.

“Sorry? I’m not sure what you mean by that.” You laughed the situation off, watching as his pitiful smile broke again, an almost pathetic laugh escaping his lips.

“Don’t play dumb.” He rolled his eyes momentarily, grinning with a hint of mischief to his words. “You and I clearly have our differences. I don’t fall for this entire act you’ve got going on, sugar.”

You felt sweat forming in the palms of your hands, your lips begin to quiver slightly, whilst your tongue felt like it had been duct taped to the roof of your mouth. With a clenched jaw you chose silence, watching him smirk as you stared into the pitiful void in his eyes. His hand ran through the platinum blonde strands of his hair as he sighed, unable to contain his chuckles as he watched you drown in your own psychological mess.

“Instead of being confused, I think it would be more worth while considering siding with me. Why don’t we get you out of this mess of a life you live? You’re ordered around like dog and it’s not fit for a diamond like you.” He sighed pacing around you like a lion playing with its food. “I’ve taken a liking to your dedication, I can see you’re so badly trying to stay loyal to your work but there’s something else you can’t resist.”

You shuddered as his lips hovered over your ears, whispering words of temptation in the most insatiable manner. Your body still frozen in time had not moved an inch from the table you’d been sat at. Warmth rising to your features whilst your stomach rattled around like a brittle old machine in the dry cleaners.

“You know this too. I’m not trying to manipulate you as I have nothing else to gain from your companionship. However, I’m quite fond of you y/n. I think your intelligence is to be treated better.” He shrugged his eyes glistening in a way that presented his words as something genuine, something honest. His praise lit up fireworks in your system, you were on rich compliment away from detonating completely.

“I appreciate your words Mr. Sohn.” You began, clearing your throat gently before continuing. “However, I think you and I are destined to be opposed. I wish you well.”

You fiercely clutched your bag in the warmth of your hand, swiftly rushing to exit the sheer embarrassment of the situation. The once soft sound of harmonic trumpets now sounded like the chaotic thrill of elephants stampeding through the small confinements of the café. It was in no way complimented by the grating sound of a piano keys being smashed in a way that was neither melodic or enjoyable to listen to. Yet before you could grasp the golden handle of the door, you were beckoned back by the honey sweet sound of your name amongst the frightful waves.

“Y/n?” Eric who turned to face you a final time, smiled, not a classic smirk or sinister chuckle, a small smile that made his eyes resemble those of a harmless puppy. “Contact me, if you change your mind.”

You looked back with a blank expression, observing his relaxed demeanour with bitterness lingering heavy on your mind. A bitterness, a feeling of resentment, but what you would do to run away with him if you could. You’d be killed.

The sound of the café bell chime felt almost like the sound of a distant gunshot to Eric, at heart he knew he’d never be able to swoon you in the way he’d hoped. There was a small rose seed sewn into his heart especially for you, he himself resented the way you as intelligent as you were, could be used as shark bait and treated like no more than a sniffer dog. Unusual for him to grow such a soft spot considering you were the enemy in the equation. He sighed, clutching the briefcase he’d been gifted and headed out to do what he came here for in the first place.

The military base was fairly small, observing the blueprints you’d traced for him, his plan was fairly simple. The box-like building was connected to an underground train link, there was no service running for another half an hour, which gave him that much time to secure the lektor and catch the next train inbound.

A small ladder led up to a hatch secured in the bottom of the facility, gently he used his fingers to open it almost silently. Stupidly, the officials thought Sohn would blatantly try to enter the building through the main entrance, a line of armed men waiting behind the doors.

The operations room was a littered with different documents, weapons, machinery, cupboards the only option for Sohn was to scramble through every shelf hoping to find the device wherever it’d been temporarily hidden. Underneath a satin sheet, there was a black box that somehow resembled the demonstration he’d been shown of the device. However, as he opened the box an explosion of smoke popped causing his ears to ring as the distant sound of yelling was heard from the unmanned room. This couldn’t stop Eric, he calmly continued to rake through the drawers as the voices grew louder.

In the bottom drawer, was the box he was looking for, checking once to see that it was not another trap and the actual device. As he pulled it from its case, the sounds of shots hitting the wall behind him caused him to pull a small pistol from his blazer pocket. Shooting back at the guards, neither of them being able to see clearly through the smoke from the trap. Eric crawled to the hatch, lektor huddled close to his chest.

The honking of the steam engine down the tunnel relieved him as he fired up the hatch to warn the soldiers not to come down. With his back against the wall, the train narrowly passed by him with little space to leave. He elbowed one of the windows as it slowed on the tracks, hurling himself onboard one of the carriages. He quickly switched suits, and sealed the device in his briefcase as protocol before exiting the broken room on the carriage and proceeding to another.

A sigh of relief slipped his lips as he sat down with his briefcase beside him, he even decided to purchase a cup of tea for the journey and peacefully kicked his legs up to read a newspaper. At least for the first ten minutes, the sound of his cabin door sliding open alerted him to look up casually from the words on the page. He couldn’t quite explain who the man who stood at the door was, he was familiar but not a man he knew at least. He was dressed a long black tux with brownish hair, his eyes replicated those of fury, aggression, enough to alert Sohn at least.

“Hand it over.” Pulling a gun from the waistband of his tailored black trousers, his face remained blank as Sohn raised his hands in the air with a laugh.

“That’s not very friendly.” Eric tutted, standing up from his seat with the case laying on the seat behind him. As he observed him more carefully the identity of the man began to become less pixelated, funnily enough it’s as if everywhere Sohn went he saw a face like resembling the man in the crowd. “I’m not a fan of stalkers but I’m sure we could settle this with an autograph.”

The joke seemed to land terribly with the other male, his lips curling in disgust as he readjusted his finger over the trigger of the gun in his hand.

“Get over yourself.” The man sneered before looking Sohn directly in the eye with a cold stare. “Your plan is hardly turning out successful, poor y/n came crying to me about your twisted bullshit.”

“Ah yes, now I remember!” Sohn clasped his hands together beginning to pace the small room, the man’s gun latching target to his head. “You’re y/n’s little lap dog! That makes so much more sense, unrequited love, that must be hard for you buddy.”

Sohn’s words cut through him like a knife, the anger boiling through his veins as he struggled to keep his composure. The gun wavering only slightly as his lips pursed furiously.

“I’m more than that buddy.” The unnamed man laughed in a way that attempted to conceal his emotions but instead the line came out as no more than a high pitch croak. “Now hand it over before I turn your brain into several servings of spaghetti.”

“Sangyeon!” The sound of angry footsteps stomping through the corridor alerted the man, however he didn’t take his eyes off Sohn for a second.

“Listen, Sangyeon is it?” Sohn laughed, his voice sounding assertive despite the noise of the rattling train and noisy horns. “I think you better calm down, she won’t be happy with what you’re trying to do here.”

Sangyeon’s gun lowered, just to the point where it was out of sight of the narrow train passage but still somewhat aiming at Sohn.

“What is it?” He called, the relief of Sohn’s face when he saw yours outside of the window was golden. It would have been so tedious attempting to get out of the situation himself.

“I’ve been looking for you all bloody day! Now I found out you’re trying to leave the country? What are-”Your eyes originally blinking in red fury softened into bright pearls upon meeting Eric’s. Then all of a sudden they turned red again as you looked back to Sangyeon with increased suspicion. “Step away from the door.”

Surprisingly he did just that, revealing the gun that was pointed towards Sohn just out the hallway. Eric discreetly took the opportunity to assemble the weapon given to him as Sangyeon’s eyes focused on yours.

“There is no way, I’m letting you kill a man that’s not business to take care of.” You sighed, blocking the doorway and staring into the soulless void of eyes. “Leave here immediately. You’re only gonna end up hurt.”

“Y/N? Are you out of damn mind?” Sangyeon burst out into maniacal laughter almost resembling one of those villains from a popular comic book at the time. “I’ve spent years protecting you and you repay me by - I don’t know - falling in love with the enemy?”

“I am not in love with Mr. Sohn-” You refuted, the lies slipped from your tongue as denial spun its web around the pink mush of your brain. You couldn’t coherently finish the sentence without entering a spiral.

“Really?” Sangyeon eyes flickered with false confusion, his lips breaking out into a scary grin. “Then tell me why I can’t kill him?” He left a pause for you to fill in the space, but as your eyes darted around the room you realised that he was perhaps right. You couldn’t admit that but there was no reason to let Sohn get away with the device needed to connect the entire unions military operations. It was simply ridiculous.

“Thought so.” Sangyeon sighed. “It’s a shame you’d leave me with such a broken heart.” There was a glint of genuine pain in his eyes, underneath the tough exterior. He was always good at concealing his emotions, rarely showing them and acting as enthusiastic as a piece of cardboard most days.

“Leave.” You looked him in the eyes more seriously than you ever had before, you were of course furious with Sangyeon. However, you couldn’t watch him get hurt or at least die trying to defend a union that didn’t even value his work.

“I can’t do that. You know I can’t. You’re going to get us into a situation you don’t know consequences of.” Sangyeon spat his words firm, eyes bulging out of their sockets as if they were signalling your final warning. “I’d do anything to protect you y/n. Now let me.”

With that he pulled your arm out of the way of the door, only to reveal an Eric Sohn that was more than ready to pounce. Sohn tackled Sangyeon, wounding his arm but managing to throw his gun down the other end of the carriage. Sangyeon panicked, attempting to reach for Sohn before he could take your arm. He yelled out for you, the change in his voice causing you to whip your head around as Eric’s sprinting stopped.

“Y/N!! WAIT!” The agonising shriek ran cold through your bones, you gasped turning to the man as he rose from the ground. “Don’t leave. I serve no purpose without you.”

“I love you.”

The scene looked like a shakespearean tragedy, the two men on either side of the carriage looking at you expectantly. Sangyeon the tragic hero, the final villain to be defeated clinging to a last thread of hope that you’d take his hand and run away with him instead. Then on the other hand Sohn, a dream-like protagonist that had fallen in love with an enemy in battle, waiting to ride his horse into into the sunset. Your mind ran codes like a computer, processing your deepest desires battling the virus of conflict that had been hard-wired into your system.

“I can’t, but we will meet again Sangyeon.” You sighed, your love for Sangyeon was purely platonic, forced out of a system that took you for granted and fed you to the sharks. “Leave this line of work as soon as you can, you don’t deserve to be hurt this way. But I have to go.”

Tears welled at Sangyeon’s eyes for the first time in perhaps over a decade, he knew you were right, in fact he didn’t want you to be in danger anymore. Mature, as he always was, he knew your decision was ultimately the right answer. His love for you, was far greater than his selfish desires, but succumbing to your own was the best thing you could do. The only thing he necessarily cared about over his broken heart, was Sohn’s ability to keep you safe - he knew he would. As he clenched his fists watching you and Sohn run into the hills together he smiled, a chuckle leaving his lips, glad you had your happy ending.

“Where is he?” Asked a gaggle of soldiers boarding the train, their rifles over their chests as they marched down the carriage.

“I lost him.” Sangyeon replied, his lies convincing enough to deter the soldiers away from the area, as he weakly stepped off at the last stop of the train. It was a beautiful day outside, a beautiful place to announce his new beginning. He sighed, as he viewed the coast line from the train stop, maybe opening a bakery isn’t a bad idea after all.

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ📰☕️🎬ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

“You ever visited here before?” Sohn asked, leaning across the canoe as he rowed down the streets, the sunshine lighting up his golden skin.

“Well, I’ve never left the country.” You chuckled, causing his face to light up in amusement as you admired the waters surrounding the city of Venice.

“I thought I’d ask, I’m glad I’m able to provide such a romantic spot for such a beauty like you.” He winked mischievously, laughing as you cringed at his advanced his eyes scrunching into crescent moons.

“Do I have to be worried about all this flirting Mr.Sohn? I’m not falling for any tricks.” Your eyes squinted at him suspiciously, propping your head in the palm of your hand as you leaned across the canoe.

“Well, if this is anything to settle your worries. I’m in a bit of trouble with M for accepting your side quest. He said to me a few years ago that if I let romance get in the way of my missions ever again, I’ll either get myself killed by it or even M himself.” He laughed thinking back to conversation. His eyes that sought out reminiscence in the distance then flickered to meet yours. “When I first met you, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to keep that promise.”

Melting into his words, you laughed as you felt the heat rise to your cheeks and the irresistible warmth of true love blossom in the pit of your stomach. As your eyes lingered on each others, you observed the beautiful nature of Sohn himself. He was etched in the model of a greek god, you finally validated yourself for falling into his trap, perhaps the love potion you were casting accidentally splashed yourself. For a few moments, Sohn hesitated, leaning closer to you for a moment as you froze. Your brain almost completely malfunctioned as he smiled, lifting your chin with the palm of his hand. Finally pressing your lips to his you smiled to yourself, as the sun began to set in Venice, the once blue sky-line was painted like a canvas with the most vibrant shades oranges and pinks.

Despite your mission abhorrently failing, the feeling of true love and freedom was the most successful ending your desolate heart could have asked for.

Besides, the love potion seemed to be successful.. Eric certainly seemed smitten as your words fell on his ears like sugar, as you talked the past and other interesting things about yourself. Venice seemed like the perfect place to forget your lives, forget how you met and fall in love all over again.

fin. — “you will locate, befriend and fall in love with agent Sohn.”

[mikachacha]

𝙻𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚅𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚝 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙸𝚍𝚘𝚕! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

Synopsis: You and Bada are secretly dating and for your anniversary, you decided to go on a road trip together to enjoy your special day and each other's company.

Warnings: language, this one will be a little steamy because the song is just 😘👌

(A/N: Thank you so much @asweetcollide for recommending this song 🥺 I absolutely love it)

🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸

Life as an idol is never easy. So many things to do, so many commitments and rarely a time off to enjoy. Days off are something you really look forward to because you get to spend it with Bada, your girlfriend. You and Bada have been dating in secret for a year now. There were lots of ups and downs, some slip ups here and there but you survived all of it. It made your relationship stronger than ever.

"Hey pretty girl.. Good morning." Bada greets you upon waking up and showers your face with kisses which made you giggle. You always loved waking up next to her since she always wakes you up with kisses and lots of cuddles.

"Good morning my love.. Happy anniversary to us." You smile at her and she mirrors the smile you have before kissing your lips. You couldn't help but pull her closer to you, wanting more of those sweet kisses. You missed the feeling of her lips against yours since you had a lot of project the past few weeks and she was off filming for Street Woman Fighter for its second season.

"You're such a needy baby.." she murmurs against your lips as you continued to make out. She pulled you on top of her and playfully smacked your butt that made you yelp out in surprise. You playfully glared at her before getting off and went to the bathroom to freshen up. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of spending the day with Bada and on your anniversary to top that.

After two hours of packing all of the things you'll both need for your road trip, you helped Bada load everything to her car so you can finally head out. She gave you a kiss before the both of you got in the car, with her driving and you, her passenger princess. You both agreed to just drive around the countryside, away from the media so you can celebrate with the much needed privacy.

"Badaaaaa I'm bored.." you pouted, two hours in your car ride and she could only chuckle in amusement, handing her phone to you and you grinned, going through spotify to search for songs to listen to while on the road. After picking, you opened the camera and took pictures of yourself with Bada's phone before turning to taking pictures of her as well.

"Careful to not post anything, yeah? They're already suspicious of us." Bada reminded since a few weeks prior, you accidentally posted pictures of yourself on Bada's instagram account. It was hell for a few days since fans began speculating your relationship. Bada has no problem going public but she worries about you. You're at the peak of your career and had a lot to lose if they found out you're dating a woman.

"Speaking of that, baby.. What if we come clean? I couldn't hide it anymore. I want to hold your hand in public, maybe go out on dates with you without us having to drive far just so we can get privacy.." you began ranting and Bada just listened. It aches her heart having to hide her relationship with you as well. She wanted to treat you out but both of you would ultimately agree on staying at home since you couldn't be risked being seen on a date together.

"I know, baby. I also want that but are you really sure? I mean, I don't mind at all but you're at the peak of your career. Aren't you worried that people might not react positively if we're gonna go public about our relationship. That could affect you a lot." she pulls over so you can really talk properly. She looks at you and held your hand, giving your knuckles a kiss while waiting for you to think about what she said.

You sighed and looked at her. She's got good points but you rose to fame because you didn't give a fuck about what people so why stop now? If they hate you for dating a woman then whatever. You're a firm believer of relationships should be kept in private, not a secret.

"I'm sure, Bada. I don't want to keep us a secret, I don't want to keep YOU a secret." you told her and she looks at you, tears brimming her eyes before pulling you in for a sweet kiss. She just loves you way too much.

After sharing a moment inside the car, the both of you decided to just have the picnic on the field outside since it's a perfect day. Not too hot and windy. She places the blanket on the grass while you placed the picnic basket down. The both of you sat down, enjoying the food and the view. You took pictures of each other and pictures together where you would kiss or just be idiots so in love.

It was finally time to start driving once more and Bada couldn't help but sneak in some make out sessions with you which you absolutely enjoyed. You were sat on her lap, kissing while her hands roamed under your shirt, caressing the bare skin. She pulls away, loving how flustered you look already and planted soft kisses down your jaw and neck. Your soft pants and mewls was such a turn on for her, she couldn't get enough of the sounds you make especially when her lips hover on the sensitive spot on your neck.

"Baby.. You're such a tease.." you whined as she suddenly stopped. She laughs and pecks your pouted lips. You're just so adorable, Bada couldn't help it.

"I'm sorry my needy baby. We gotta get going, you know? I promise to give you all the loving when we arrive at the hotel." she says and you perked up at the promise of extra loving at the hotel which made her laugh and help you back to the car. As she drove, you posted the picture of you and Bada kissing with the caption, "Happy anniversary @badalee_ ❤ I love you". You smiled and turned your phone off, letting people do whatever they want with your post. The only thing you care about is the happiness you felt being with Bada and that's enough for you.

[space-matt]

Jokes in life - death

chris.sturniolo x fem.reader

summary: One joke too many could cost the life of someone…maybe.

request: yes -> anon

cw: use of y/n, fake chocking, fake death, swear

author's note: after a long time I'm back with a small part that I managed to write between commitments. I hope you can enjoy it all the same. Tell me your opinions! ♡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺

English is not my first language, if you see grammar and typing mistakes, I apologize in advance! I just ask you not to be rude to me ♡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺

''Oh for your information it's not true,'' you say, pointing your finger at Chris's chest as you walk the streets of your neighborhood with your favorite ice cream.

Almost every night you ended up heading to your hiding place, the roof of a building abounding along the end of two streets further on. But this one, in particular, you just wanted to walk and look around.

''So it's not true that you went out with Mike the other day?'' Chris asks stopping in place to see how your expression changed from calm to surprise ''Yeah we went out but only because we're lab partners, that's all Chris'' you reply continuing to eat the ice cream from the cone that was melting in the meantime.

''The fact is it's not that I don't trust you but-'' in the middle of the sentence you start coughing but Chris continues to blink not caring about the noise coming from his beside.

‘'C-Chris'' you pronounce with difficulty and only at that moment the boy realize that you are choking ''OH JESUS'' he exclaims starting to pat you on the back but it seems to have no effect 

< Stay calm Chris > you hear pronounced from his panicked mouth, and only then do you decide to end your charade.

'' Gotchaaaa'' you exclaim laughing as you see his bewildered face '' Are you fucking kidding me y/n?! It's not fucking funny, at all'' he says waving his arms and shaking his head.

From this episode, you have inaugurated the session of jokes for years, from the obvious to the serious ones.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chris had been meticulously planning the ultimate prank for weeks, determined to pull off the prank of the year.

He wanted to recreate a home invasion robbery, a prank that was both extreme and daring but would undoubtedly earn him the top spot on the leaderboard. 

As it stood, he was currently in first place, followed by Matt, Chris, and finally Nick.

Chris spent hours preparing for the prank, carefully plotting every detail to ensure its success. He knocked over chairs and moved furniture, creating a mess that would make it look like a real break-in had occurred. 

With everything in place, all he had to do was pretend to be hurt to make the prank look authentic. 

As he made his way upstairs to Nick's room, he remembered the fake blood that Nick had used for his Halloween costume and decided to use it to add to the realism of the prank.

You, on the other hand, were at the supermarket with Matt and Nick, picking up the necessary items for their next video titled < Let's Try the Odd Pairings > As you walked through the aisles, you noticed a Reese's bunny on the shelf and thought it would be a nice treat for Chris. 

You picked it up and added it to the cart, continuing to gather the other ingredients needed for the video.

As you pulled your car into the driveway, you noticed something strange. The front door of your house was slightly ajar.

You quickly parked the car and grabbed your grocery bags, approaching the door with a sense of unease. As you got closer, you could see that the door was open just enough to let someone slip inside.

With confusion etched on your face, you cautiously pushed the door open and stepped inside. That's when you saw it - the house was in a state of utter chaos. Furniture was overturned, drawers were pulled out, and things were scattered everywhere.

Your mind immediately went to Chris. You called out his name ‘’Chriss..?’’ your voice trembling with fear. As you searched each room, your panic grew.

There was no sign of Chris anywhere. Your heart racing, you finally entered his bedroom, where you found him lying on the floor, his eyes closed and a red spot on his chest.

‘’CHRIS’’ You rushed to his side, shaking him and calling out his name, but he didn't respond. You started to panic ‘’GUYSS CALL AN AMBULANCE NOW!!!' you shouted to get the attention of the other two, who were rightly part of the prank and knew full well what was going on. 

Chris was doing nothing but holding back his laughter, and being as calm as possible to get completely into the part

''Oh my god what have they done to you? Oh god I can't lose you, what am I going to do without you? I didn't even have the guts to tell you how much I've liked you since we were kids, how safe you make me feel and how much I love your dimple when you smile'' you say all in desperation as salty tears roll down your face 

''WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS? WE NEED HELP!'' You scream starting a real hysterical cry, only at that moment do Nick and Matt enter, who seeing you in this state decide to put an end to the joke, realizing that this has gone a bit too far

''C'mon Chris get up'' exclaims Matt coming towards you and placing a hand on your shoulder noticing your trembling.

You find yourself in a state of confusion as your vision remains hazy, and it takes a moment for you to realize that Chris has opened his eyes and is staring at you. You rub your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt and whisper, ''...what?''

Chris, sensing your disorientation, informs you that it was all a prank. He pulls you in for a hug, but you push him away, still reeling from the shock of the experience ’’It's a fucking joke, what's wrong with you idiot’’ you express your anger and frustration 'I thought something bad happened to you and the stain-'' you say feeling more tears streaming down your face pointing on his chest ''-you went too far’’ You explain that his prank had triggered your anxiety.

As you sit on the edge of your bed, you feel a wave of emotions wash over you. You feel overwhelmed and suffocated, and the only thing you can think of doing is hiding in the bathroom.

You slowly make your way to the bathroom and shut the door behind you, hoping to find some solace within its walls.

Once inside, you lean against the sink and let out a deep sigh. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, and you know you won't be able to hold them back for long.

You rest your hands on the sink and let the tears flow freely, trying to release all the pent-up emotions that have been building inside you.

As you cry, memories of the past come flooding back to you, making you feel even more vulnerable and exposed. You can't help but think about the people you have lost in your life, and the thought of losing someone else fills you with dread.

You find yourself caught in a vicious cycle of bad thoughts, unable to break free.

Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door, ''Y/n can I come in?'' Chris asks from behind the door. You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to let anyone in, but the sound of his voice is enough to break through your walls. ''I don't want to see you'' you say try to compose yourself, wiping away the tears from your face.

''Please'' Chris pleads, his voice full of sadness and regret. You know he's crossed a line, but you also know that he cares about you deeply. With a heavy heart, you snap the lock so he can enter, preparing yourself for whatever comes next.

As he wraps his arms around you, you can feel his warm embrace, but you remain stiff at first. However, when his hands start caressing your back, you can't help but give in to the moment and relax. You let out a deep sigh as you feel his fingers trace gentle circles on your skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispers into your hair, his voice filled with remorse. "I shouldn't have pushed myself any further"

He pulls back slightly, looking deep into your eyes. You can see the concern etched on his face as he takes in your tear-stained cheeks.

After a few moments of silence, you finally speak up. "Don't ever do that again, please...I seriously thought the worst" Your voice is soft and shaky as you try to hold back more tears.

He takes a deep breath and continues "I swear, in fact, let's get rid of the prank contest...we're old enough for these things now. Are you in?" He takes your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm in" you reply with a little smile. "They're not for me anymore" he can't help but smile back, and you’re feeling grateful for his understanding and support.

After feeling overwhelmed and needing to calm down, you took some time to freshen up in the bathroom. Once you were ready to rejoin the group, you found Chris waiting for you outside the bathroom, ready to change his soiled T-shirt.

You both made your way up the stairs and into the living room where you were pleasantly surprised to find that Matt and Nick had taken it upon themselves to clean up the mess that had been created earlier.

As you settled into the comfortable surroundings of the living room, Chris reached out and took your hand, leading you out to the balcony where the sun was setting. You both sat down on the footstools and with your legs resting on the coffee table, you looked out at the beautiful view.

After a few moments of silence, Chris spoke up, saying, "What a day" you couldn't help but chuckle at his remark and responded with "For me we can also eliminate"

Chris then turned to you and asked "So... what you told me before is true?" you played coy and asked "Which of the many things?" knowing exactly what he was referring to, he replied with a pointed, "You know what”.

It seems that Chris is highly perceptive when it comes to your body language, even when you try to hide things.

You may have believed that he never pays attention to you, but the reality is quite different. The two of you have had feelings for each other since you were young, yet you both seem to be oblivious to this fact.

Despite your attempts to conceal your emotions, it appears that Chris can sense what you’re feeling, and perhaps he feels the same way.

As you bask in the warmth of the sun, lost in your thoughts, you hear a familiar voice calling out to you. You turn to see him standing there, his hand waving in front of your face. "Y/n, are you there?" he asks, his eyes meeting yours. 

You feel a jolt of surprise at the sudden interruption, but quickly compose yourself and respond with a smile. "Yeah, sorry about that" you say, taking in his appearance, which seems even more striking than usual.

‘’It's true... but you don't have to feel sorry for me, even if you don't have the same feelings as me there's no problem at all, on the contrary, there are better girls than me and-‘’ as you begin to speak, he cuts you off with a gentle kiss on the lips. 

At first, his lips feel firm against yours, but then they soften, and you can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. In that moment, all your doubts and fears melt away, and you find yourself lost in the pleasure of the kiss.

You feel a warm sense of contentment and happiness wash over you as the kiss comes to an end. Your heart races as you hear him whisper on your lips

"I've always liked you Y/n and couldn't wait to kiss you" your mind is filled with a flurry of emotions as he kisses you again, and you can't help but feel grateful for this moment with him. 

The softness of his lips against yours, the gentle touch of his hand on your cheek, and the warmth of his embrace all make you feel alive and loved.

You cherish this moment and hope that it's just the beginning of another journey together.

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

Taglist:  @sturniolosreads @mayhem-72 @dracoflaco @lyzsaphrodite @ifilwtmfc @xoxo4chrisss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @inlovewithmattstur @sturniolobendystrawsposts @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @blackhorses-posts

[bloodylullaby]

Give Me Something Beautiful

Summary: Morrigan's ordinary life takes an extraordinary turn when Noah Sebastian, the lead singer of Bad Omens, stumbles upon her quaint little shop, adorned with her captivating photography. Intrigued by her talent and drawn to her genuine spirit, Noah invites Morrigan to capture the essence of his band's concert through her lens. As they spend time together, their initial friendship blossoms into a deep and meaningful connection, fueled by their shared love for art and music. Despite the challenges they face as their worlds collide, Morrigan and Noah navigate the complexities of fame and intimacy, ultimately finding solace and strength in each other's arms. Through their journey from strangers to lovers, they discover that amidst life's chaos, true beauty lies in the simple moments shared between two souls who are destined to be together.

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x OC

Content Warning: None

Word Count: 2421

MasterList

Chapter Two

"Shit," I muttered under my breath as I dashed down the sidewalk, raindrops pelting my skin. I was running seriously behind schedule. My father's impromptu return from a golfing trip had derailed my plans, his endless chatter about the perfect golfing conditions delaying me until 6:40. With barely any time to spare, I sprinted the five minutes back to my apartment, frantically throwing on a black lace-bustier cami top, ripped black skinny jeans, and my trusty pair of Demonias platform boots. 

I left my shoulder-length, black and purple hair in its natural curly state, opting for speed over styling. By the time I managed to get dressed, it was already 7, leaving me no choice but to rush out the door and make a mad dash for my car in the back lot. The drive to the theater was surprisingly smooth, but finding a parking spot proved to be a challenge, eating up precious minutes as I circled the area in search of a vacant spot.

Frustration surged through me as I finally found a parking spot in a garage a mile and a half away. Consulting my phone for the time, I took a deep breath before popping open the trunk of my car to retrieve my camera bag. Midway through the parking garage, a sinking realization hit me like a ton of bricks—I had left my keys in the ignition. Panic surged as I hastily turned on my heel, racing back to my car. However, my frustration only intensified when I reached my vehicle, only to find another car parked so close to my driver's side door that opening it without denting theirs seemed impossible. 

With an exasperated huff, I popped open the trunk once more. Thankfully, my car boasted a hatchback, providing a precarious but feasible entry point. Clambering into the trunk, I grappled with the task of folding down the back seat. Minutes ticked by as I wrestled with the stubborn mechanism, determination fueling my efforts. Finally, with a triumphant grunt, I managed to coerce the seat down, granting me access to the interior of my car. Retrieving my keys, I exhaled a sigh of relief, grateful that my absent-mindedness hadn't resulted in a complete catastrophe. Emerging from the confines of my vehicle, I carefully reorganized my belongings before securing the car and setting off once more, this time with a renewed sense of urgency propelling my steps.

I glanced at my phone, feeling a wave of frustration wash over me as I saw that it was almost 7:30. "Jesus Christ, why does everything have to go wrong when I'm excited about something?" I muttered to myself, my irritation mounting. After cracking my neck and ensuring I had all my gear, I hoisted my camera bag onto my shoulder and set off in a brisk jog.

Arriving at the theater didn't take too long, but my heart sank as I came to a halt, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The line stretched around the corner and further down the street, a daunting sight that left me feeling bewildered and overwhelmed. How could there be so many people here? With the show about to start, the fact that so many were still waiting to get inside only added to my growing sense of unease. Taking a moment to catch my breath, I pushed through the crowd, eliciting groans of protest and complaints from those I brushed past. Determination overriding my nerves, I made my way to the main entrance, where the door supervisors greeted me with looks of confusion.

"Back of the line, sweetheart, good looks don't get you in faster," one of the door supervisors quipped, their tone laced with amusement. I raised an eyebrow, meeting their chuckles with a wry grin of my own.

"Well, if you would let me talk, you would know that I was invited to come in, and I am on some sort of list, but from the looks of it, I think reading might be a little too hard for you guys," I retorted in a deadpan voice, my frustration simmering beneath the surface. As one of the supervisors stepped forward, attempting to intimidate me, the other hastily radioed in to confirm the situation. Rolling my eyes and crossing my arms, I couldn't help but feel exasperated by the unnecessary delay. Why was it so difficult for them to simply read a list or ask for my name, especially when they knew someone was expected with photography equipment?

"Listen, I am running late and don't have time for this. Either the two of you get your heads out of your asses, or I will force my way in," I stated with a firm edge to my voice, my patience wearing thin. However, before I could even finish my threat, one of them grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back, causing a sharp jolt of pain to shoot through me.

"Alright, little lady, it was entertaining initially, but the threats took it too far. You're out of here," the door supervisor declared, his tone firm as he motioned for me to leave. Meanwhile, the other supervisor hurried inside to seek assistance.

"You're kidding me, right? You didn't even do your job to see if I was on a list or ask for my name; you just assumed I was trying to sleep my way to the band. Which, by the way, is sexist," I fired back, my frustration boiling over as I launched into a scathing retort. However, my tirade was abruptly interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind us.

Turning around, I found myself face-to-face with another photographer, his presence casting an unexpected twist in the situation. “Morrigan Emerson?” He asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, that would be me," I replied with a relieved smile as the door supervisor promptly released me and stepped aside.

"Follow me; the band has been waiting for you," the photographer instructed, gesturing for me to follow him. With a smug grin directed at the door supervisor, I complied, flipping him off with a sickly sweet smile before trailing after my new favorite friend.

"My name is Bryan; I am Bad Omens' photographer," he introduced himself as we walked, glancing back over his shoulder. His words sparked a flicker of recognition, but I couldn't quite place where I had heard the band's name before. As we navigated down a hallway, a knot of nervousness began to form in my stomach. Who had I agreed to see tonight? Eventually, we entered a larger space that was just one room away from being backstage, and my apprehension grew. What awaited me on the other side of that door?

As we stepped into the room, my eyes immediately sought out Noah. He stood facing away from us, engaged in conversation with a group of guys whom I assumed to be his bandmates. Clad in a sleek black turtleneck, matching pants cinched with a belt, and polished black shoes, he exuded an effortless allure that left me momentarily breathless. Could this man possibly get any more attractive?

My reverie was interrupted when one of the guys spotted Bryan and me, pointing in our direction and catching Noah's attention. "Morrigan, you made it!" Noah exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine excitement as he made his way over to me. I returned his enthusiasm with a shy smile and an awkward wave, feeling a rush of nerves as he drew closer.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. Had a bunch of bad luck on my way here," I explained sheepishly, scratching the back of my head in embarrassment. Bryan chuckled, adding his own twist to the tale.

"She was ready to kick some ass when I found her. They had her in an arm lock and everything, and she was still going on a tangent," Bryan recounted, prompting laughter from the group. As Noah and the others looked at me with a mixture of confusion, amusement, and concern, I felt my nerves start to bubble up, manifesting in a nervous giggle.

"Yeah, well, when I got to the doors, they assumed I was trying to sleep my way in with you guys, so I might have gotten a little too hot-headed and threw in some insults that got me in a sticky situation," I admitted, feeling a flush of embarrassment color my cheeks. Noah's expression darkened at my words.

"They thought you were a groupie?" he asked, his tone laced with disbelief. I nodded, unable to meet his gaze, my discomfort growing with every passing moment. I hadn't intended for Bryan to make a big deal out of it; I just wanted to move past the awkward encounter and focus on the reason I was there.

"Yeah, but I handled myself just fine. Bryan stepped in before I could actually kick some ass. Everyone almost got a free show," I quipped, trying to lighten the mood with a touch of humor. Thankfully, my attempt elicited laughter from the group, diffusing some of the awkward tension that had settled over us.

Noah's touch on my shoulder was gentle as he guided us away from the others, his expression serious yet filled with genuine concern. "I'm glad you can find humor in the situation, Morrigan, but I'll take care of them. That shouldn't have happened; I made sure everyone knew I invited a friend to see us. They should have stayed professional, and for that, I'm sorry that my team has let you down," he apologized sincerely, his words carrying a weight of responsibility that touched me deeply. How sweet could one guy be? Although security was from a different company, Noah still took ownership of the situation, demonstrating his integrity and care for those around him.

"Noah, it's okay; it isn't your fault. I appreciate the apology, but I know that they work for a third party from the design on their shirts. I'm not mad at anyone but them, so please don't worry. Bryan came and got me, and that is all that matters. If you want to do something about it, by all means, go ahead. Just know that it isn't your fault," I reassured him, offering a sincere smile to emphasize my point. 

Noah returned the smile, his expression softening with gratitude, before turning to address a security guard who had called him over. With a few words exchanged, Noah reviewed the details with the guard and requested that the door supervisors be released and replaced. Once everything was settled, he guided me back to the group, seamlessly reintegrating me into the fold as he introduced me to everyone.

"Morrigan, this is Nick, Jolly, and Folio. They're the ones who help me make the music possible," Noah introduced, gesturing to each member of the band in turn. "Guys, this is Morrigan; she's the one I told you about with the beautiful and unique photography."

The band members greeted me warmly, expressing their admiration for the photos Noah had shared with them. As the conversation shifted to their excitement for the upcoming show, they began to pump each other up, their energy infectious. Feeling my social anxiety creeping in, I attempted to step to the side, but Noah gently kept me within the circle, ensuring I wasn't left out. As the minutes ticked by and the anticipation mounted, my nerves began to escalate. With just ten minutes left until showtime, Noah turned to me, his expression gentle yet encouraging.

"You'll be with Bryan for the night, so if at any point you feel overwhelmed, you can either go to him or step outside for a breather," Noah reassured me, his words laced with genuine concern and consideration. His kindness was like a breath of fresh air, a stark contrast to the often self-serving interactions I'd grown accustomed to. All I could manage in response was a grateful nod, my mind racing with appreciation for his thoughtfulness.

It struck me how rare it was to encounter someone so inherently caring and gentle, especially without any ulterior motives. As I struggled to steady my breathing, Noah noticed the drained color on my face and promptly guided us to the side, away from the hustle and bustle of the group.

"You'll be okay, I promise. Nothing is going to happen to you. There's a barricade between you and the crowd. Don't push yourself out of your comfort zone if you're not ready," Noah reassured me, offering a supportive thumbs-up. His words were like a lifeline, grounding me amidst the whirlwind of anxiety.

Taking a deep breath, I scanned the room until my eyes landed on exactly what I needed: liquid courage. Making my way over to the table, I couldn't help but grimace at the sight of the options laid out before me. It was a choice between straight liquor or beer, with no chaser or anything to mask the taste. It was clear that this was a situation where necessity outweighed preference.

Taking a deep breath, I reached for a cup and filled it with the dark-colored liquor, steeling myself for the impending taste. As I stared at the liquid in my cup, trying to muster the courage to take a sip, I noticed the band members preparing to take the stage and Bryan making his way over to me.

With a resolve born of necessity, I plugged my nose and quickly downed the drink, grimacing as the harsh burn lingered in my throat. Gagging slightly at the unpleasant aftertaste, I tried to compose myself as Bryan approached me. "Ready?" he asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I replied with a small smile, determined to push through my nerves and enjoy the experience to the fullest.

"Cool. Let's head out then before the lights go out," Bryan suggested, prompting me to grab my camera bag and gather the necessary lenses. With a determined nod, I signaled to Bryan that I was ready to go.

As we made our way towards the stage, I couldn't help but steal a glance at Noah. Catching his eye, I was met with a reassuring smile, a thumbs-up, and the silent encouragement, "You can do this." Returning his gesture with a nervous smile of my own, I turned away and followed Bryan towards the stage. With each step, my nerves began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of excitement and anticipation. I was going to do this, and I was going to have fun doing it.

Authors Note: I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far :) Summer classes are about to start so chapters will go between pushing them out fast and slow.

[best-iwtv-scene]

ROUND 1B, MATCH 7

Descriptions/Propaganda under the cut:

Louis saves Claudia from the fire (1x03/1x04)

Consumed with guilt after instigating a race riot throughout Storyville, Louis desperately tries to help the innocent black people of his city from the violence surrounding him. Despite his vampirism, he is unable to help anyone on the street, but as he comes to a burning house, he can hear a young girl inside, terrified and bound to suffocate from the smoke around her. Louis rips through the building and jumps to where Claudia is hiding, picking her up and bringing her to the Rue Royale. This moment is seen both from Louis's perspective at the end of 1x03 and from Claudia's viewpoint at the beginning of 1x04. Louis depicts his act as one that not only saved Claudia but saved him, too, forever changing his life from that day onward. Claudia depicts it as magical, amazed by the "black angel" that saved her from death. The scene is scored by "Claudia" by Daniel Hart in 1x03, introducing her theme which is frequently used throughout the show. "I could not save the Azalea. I could not save Storyville. I could not save the aunt on the wrong side of the wall, but I could save her. My light. My Claudia. My redemption."

Propaganda:

No propaganda was submitted for this scene.

"You and Me, Me and You" (2x01)

After years of travelling through cold, war-riddled Eastern Europe in search of vampires, and after finally finding one only to watch her throw herself into a fire before them, Louis and Claudia find themselves on the way to Paris. Claudia is fractured from witnessing Daciana's death, feeling like she will never find a community or understanding in anyone no matter where she goes. In the back of a car, lit only by the passing lights of France at night, Louis promises Claudia that he will be her community, her companion, wherever Claudia goes, vowing that he will never leave the earth as long as she still walks it. Wounded by what she saw, Claudia desperately wants to believe Louis and there is a fragile kind of hope in her eyes as she looks up at him. As the monologue continues, the camera slowly pans to Claudia's right to reveal an imagined Lestat, throat slit and bloody, sitting next to her, Louis fighting with himself over who to look at as he promises "you and me". This scene is heartbreaking, particularly knowing the direction of Louis and Claudia's relationship through season two, Louis making a promise that both vampires so greatly wish to be true, but ultimately does not hold, pushing each other away as the season progresses. The scene is scored by Daniel Hart's 'The Whole World Was Ready To Return', a piece many consider to be the best on the soundtrack, the short string motifs, building and layering to mirror the hope and desperation of the promise until it reaches a climactic cadence at the sight of Paris. The piece returns in 2x08 over Louis's final monologue, playing out the season in a bittersweet moment.  "We can't be the only good ones out there... Soft words. If you were the last vampire on earth, it would be enough. You and me. Me and you. You and me. Me and you. You and me."

Propaganda:

No propaganda was submitted for this scene.

Submitted by @interviewiththevicious

[tightjeansjavi]

That Girl is a Problem

Part 1: “Sinful Colors”

(AU street racing! Joel x f! tattoo artist reader)

A/N: so this idea came to me because I rediscovered the song, ‘Problem’ by Natalia Kills. Suddenly I was like YES. Tatted up street racing Joel 😵‍�� + tattoo artist female reader? Jesus Christ, my panties have been flung across the room. I’m blushing as I type this all out because this Joel is just on another level 🥵 get your engines revving laideaze.

~word count: 2.6k~

Summary: Joel Miller & Tommy Miller left their Texas homestead seeking new thrills. They find themselves working at an auto body shop on Hollywood Blvd. Joel meets you, a self taught tattoo artist working on the strip. You might be just the adrenaline rush that he was searching for. Or, his ultimate heartbreak.

Warnings: Early 1990’s Los Angeles violence/scandals. Drug use, drinking, smoking, mentions of tattooing and needles, street racing, infidelity, adrenaline junkies, Joel & reader have emotional baggage, reader is a badass, love triangle between reader, Joel, and readers boyfriend, flirting, teasing, banter, jealousy, rage, trauma, dark themes, domestic emotional/physical abuse from readers boyfriend, pining, unrequited feelings, excessive drinking/drug use, sustained injuries from street racing, bar fights, 2 character deaths, jealous! Joel, darkish! Joel, possessive! Joel, eventual smut, consent, eventual established relationship, no use of (y/n) readers nickname is Angel, (+18) minors dni!

That Girl is a Problem Playlist:

𝙄’𝙢 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡.

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙚...

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙢.

Los Angeles, California: Summer of 1993

When Joel Miller, and his brother Tommy Miller moved to the City of Angels, Los Angeles California, they had no idea what they were in store for. LA was a cultural shock compared to their homestead in Texas. They were looking to get in on the action, live life on the high side and they had come just to the right place.

It didn’t take long for the Miller boys to find work at a local mechanic shop on the Hollywood strip. Both brothers knew a thing or two about cars and motorcycles. Wasn’t the first time they had gotten down and dirty, and it wouldn’t be the last. Joel had discovered your tattoo shop on his lunch break. Hollywood had street vendors by the lot and he stopped in front of the bright red neon sign that read, Sinful Colors.

Joel wasn’t shy of his ink. He had gotten his first tattoo at the sharp age of 18 and from there, he became addicted to the buzzing sound of the machine, and quick jabs of the needle into his skin. It was a euphoric sensation. The only way he knew how to describe the feeling without sounding entirely masochistic, was that it was a good pain. A comforting pain that eased stress and tension. Maybe he enjoyed it too much. Who the hell was anyone to tell him that he was fucked up for feeling that way? Tattoos were fucking dope, as far as he was concerned.

Curiosity got the best out of him as he pushed open the door to your shop. He was greeted with the familiar buzz of the tattoo machine and the low tremble of Led Zeppelin’s, I Can’t Quit You Baby. There was the faint aroma of cigarette smoke, mixed in with burning incense wafting through the thick beaded curtain that separated the waiting area from the room where the clients and walk in’s would receive their new ink.

You had a cigarette perched between your lips as you were finishing up on a walk in that requested a tramp stamp to piss off her ex boyfriend. Although in your eyes, tramp stamps weren’t trampy at all. They were fucking hot as hell, considering you had one yourself. “You’re doing great, babe. You’re gonna love this one. As soon as your ex sees it, he’s gonna be foaming at the mouth.”

“As he fucking should be. Fuck him. He’s never gonna get his hands on my body again.” The client glanced over her shoulder at you, letting out a low hum from the sensation of the needle piercing her skin over, and over again. Once you were finished, you lightly doused a paper towel in rubbing alcohol before gently wiping the tattoo.

“Alright babe. You let me know how this looks, Kay? If you wanna change anything, don’t hesitate.” You had your walk-in gently sit up before you handed her a hand held mirror so she could check out her new ink. The tattoo was a gothic heart in red ink. The structured lines coming from the sides of the heart were like a crown of pointy thorns. The tattoo itself was delicate but possessed that edgy vibe that she was looking for.

“Holy fucking shit, Angel. You outdid yourself again! Oh my god, this is so fucking beautiful.”

It brought you undeniable joy to see someone happy with your art. You took immense pride in making sure that your clients and walk-ins got exactly what they were looking for. It was always fun when you got to throw in your own artistic flare in your work. “I’m so happy you love it babe. You know I would be more than happy to add you as one of my clients? You keep coming back for more..so I must be doing something right huh?” You said with a small grin.

“At this point, I’m just gonna keep throwing my money at you because girl, this is insane! Thank you so so so much!” She was already reaching into her hot pink wallet, pulling out a stack of cash for you.

“You mind if I take a picture of it real quick? I’ll give you a copy as well. Just like to keep a collection, y’know?” Your walk-in, Maddi nodded. You tapped your cigarette out in the nearby ashtray, far enough away from your supplies to stay within regulation code. You opened up your drawer pulling out your Polaroid camera as you got behind the bench. “Alright baby cakes, hold your shirt up for me just a little, just like that gorgeous.”

You snapped one picture, followed by another, gently shaking the photos as they developed. Once they were finished, you grabbed a fine tip sharpie and wrote the date, along with Maddi’s name, and handed her the second copy.

“Okay, this is so fucking hot. I’m hanging this picture up on my fridge. I don't care.”

You set your copy of the picture down before grabbing her a “goody bag.” Now remember, no harsh scented soaps, no swimming for at least 2-4 weeks. Please don’t let anyone cum on your back for at least a week either. I know how you are babe. Keep it moisturized, and a little bit of the stuff I gave you goes a long way.” You wheeled your stool over as you placed a light patch off the open wound. “You can take this off in a couple hours and gently wash it with water only.”

“Sooo no cum-shots on my back for at least a week? Got it!” Maddi said with a light giggle. “Oh, by the way, is Dylan still racing this weekend?”

“Yeah you’ll just have to stick with it on your tits or ass babe. Think you can handle that? He is racing this weekend. You and the girls gonna be there?”

“I do love a good ass shot. Hell yeah we’re gonna be there! We don’t miss that shit for the world babe.” She pulled her shirt down over the bandage gently before gathering up her things. Maddi always left you a hefty tip, which you appreciated greatly. You gave her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek before you counted up your money and placed it in the safe under your work area.

Maddi slipped past the beaded curtain to be met with the tall, handsome stranger in the waiting area. She shot the man a wink before she left through the front entrance.

You wiped down your work area, sanitizing everything for your next client before you stood up. You didn’t know anyone but yourself and maddi were in the shop till you slipped through the beaded curtain and were met with Joel Miller.

“Oh shit, sorry man. I didn’t hear anyone else come in. How long have you been standing there?” The first thing you took notice of was his height and the way the leather jacket he was wearing, seemed to bulge at the seams from his prominent broad muscles. You could see some ink peeking out along his wrists and the visible skin exposed beneath his t-shirt.

“Long enough to hear about cum shots.” He chuckled, Texas accent drawling smoothly past his lips.

“She’s a wild one, that’s for damn sure. You’re not from around here I take it? Based on the accent. Texas maybe?”

The first thing Joel noticed about you was your clothing attire. You weren’t afraid to show skin that was for damn sure. He took in the fact that you were wearing a short denim skirt with a tight little top that did little to cover your nipples. You wore fishnets paired with black heeled boots. You were hot, there was no denying that. You were also positively covered in tattoos. He noticed right away that your style was patchwork mixed in with American traditional. You even had a little red ink queen of hearts tattoo along the front of your ear. It easily could pass as a face tattoo. Besides your tattoos, you had a septum piercing and an array of earrings on the same ear that had the tattoo close to it.

“Based on that conversation, she does sound pretty wild. How’d you guess from my accent alone that I’m from Texas? Does it really stick out that much?” Joel asked, crossing his arms across his broad chest, stretching the leather fabric even more.

You knew he was checking you out. It was flattering to have attractive people unashamedly check you out. You knew you were hot. Something that both men, and women and everyone in between desired. You were well known in the LA nightlife. Your boyfriend Dylan hated it. He hated that you dressed a certain way, that you were naturally bubbly, alluring. You had a bit of a mouth to you but hey, momma didn’t raise no bitch. You were everyone’s dream girl, but a real damn problem.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer, handsome.” you grinned and mirrored his movements, crossing your arms over your chest with a raise of your brow. “Yeah, I don’t get many Texas men wandering in here. You stick out like a damn sore thumb man.”

Joel felt his mouth go dry at your suggestion. Was he really staring that damn hard at you? Fuck. He had only just met you, and you were already scrambling his brain. He cleared his throat as he stuck with his intimidating stance. “Can’t deny that I like what I see, huh Angel? Now, is that your real name darlin’, or like one of those fake stage names like the girls in Vegas use?”

“Between you and me, I like what I see as well. Oh, I’m sure you’d love to hear my real name, cowboy. We’re not on those personal terms unfortunately.” You said with a faux sigh of disappointment.

“Ahh, I see. You’re what men like to call a class A tease. Gotta hand it to ya darlin’ you got me hooked already.”

“Consider yourself unspecial, and most definitely unlucky.” You responded with a sickly sweet grin. “So, did you come in here to flirt me up or did you want to get something done? What was your name again? I don’t believe I caught it.”

Joel liked the fact that you could banter and hold your ground. He was unlucky indeed considering the fact that you already had the upper hand on him. “I don’t believe I introduced myself at all. I’m Joel.” He held his hand out for you to shake, a small grin plastered on his lips. “I was actually lookin’ to get somethin’ done. I’m only on my lunch break at the moment so I’d have to come back later unfortunately.”

“Joel? Never heard of a man with that name before. It’s different.” You shook his hand firmly. You could feel the ridges and veins in his hand against your soft skin. “What were you looking to get done? I can pencil you in for my next availability.”

“Well, now you’ve gone and boosted my ego up a notch darlin’. I was lookin’ to get both of my hands done. The knuckles and my fingers. I was thinking American traditional. Nothing really specific. Maybe a skull, snake or somethin’ along those lines.”

“Don’t let it go to your head too fast, cowboy. Knuckle tattoos are fucking sick. I love doing American traditional as well. Tell you what, I’ll sketch something up for you and then you can stop on by after your shift? Where do you work anyway?” You asked, already penciling his name down in your little notebook.

“Damn woman. You gotta take a man out to dinner first before you just start askin’ him personal questions like that.” He chuckled, shooting you a playful wink. “I work at S&M auto body just down the strip. My brother Tommy works there as well.”

“Fuck me. There’s two of you?” You said with a light giggle. Yeah, my boyfriend actually uses that place when he’s reckless with his car. Which is about every other fucking day I swear.”

Of course you had a boyfriend. Of fucking course a vixen, such as yourself was taken.

“Yeah but if I’m being honest, I’m the handsome one. Tommy is just eh. Although, believe it or not, he’s totally a bigger ladies man than I am. Dude can’t keep it in his fucking pants for more than a day, if that.”

“Wow, he sounds like the male version of my friend Maddi. The hot babe that was just in here. She’s out here breaking guys' hearts every other day of the week. I absolutely hype her up for it though. She’s getting it good all the time.”

“No shit? Well, sounds like they would be a perfect match for one another. Maybe we’ll have to make sure they meet or somethin’.”

“Oh, we? No. Sorry Joel. There will be no we but i’m sure they’ll end up meeting eventually. You and Tommy should come to the race Saturday night. Maddi will be there and they can meet and rip each other's clothes off and all that fun stuff.”

“What kind of race are we talkin’ here Angel?” Joel asked with curiosity laced in his tone.

“The only kind of racing that is actually entertaining to watch. Street racing babe. Happens every Friday and Saturday night, right here on the strip. Well, as long as the cops don’t come and bust up our party first.”

“Street racing? Can anyone sign up for it or is it like an invite only kinda deal? Are you gonna be there?”

“Anyone and everyone can sign up. You got a car or bike and you’re good to go. Entry fee is $50 and well..there’s not many rules either. That’s what really draws the crowds in. Just some down and dirty street racing. I’ll be there. I always am. My boyfriend holds the raining title in LA county.”

Joel fought the urge to roll his eyes at you mentioning this boyfriend of yours again. Dude sounded like a total tool and Joel didn’t even know his name, let alone what his stupid face looked like. “Well, Angel. Count me in. I’ll be there and I’ll bring Tommy. How do I sign up?”

“Alright, rookie. You got a taste for some action, huh? We’ve been looking for some new meat to join anyway.” You grabbed a clipboard from one of the drawers and handed it to him. “The $50 isn’t required till the race so just need your name, pretty boy.”

“Came all the way out here for some action darlin’. Any, and all kinds of it. Whatever I can get my hands on really. Your boyfriend might have some competition on his hands. We did somethin’ similar to this back in Texas. Only difference was, it was a bunch of hillbillies and their trucks in an abandoned cornfield. Same concept, I imagine.” He grabbed the clipboard from you, lightly brushing his fingers across your knuckles on purpose. He wasted no time signing his first and last name before handing you the clipboard back.

“We’ll see about all that, cowboy. My next client will be here in about 10. I’ll work on your sketch on my lunch break and then feel free to stop by anytime after 3 today.” You set the clipboard down along the table.

“Sounds like a date, Angel. Catch ya around hot stuff.” He winked before he turned on his heel and slipped past the front entrance door.

Dylan was positively gonna give you hell for this. Did you care? Not one fucking bit. Joel Miller was hot. He was handsome and sexy and you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t want to get a taste of what Texas had to offer. What your boyfriend didn’t know, wasn’t going to kill him.

Tag list: @chaotic-mystery @peterhollandkait @lovers-liability @korynnekorynne @loquaciousferret @cutesyscreenname @atinylittlepain @yazsos @kirsteng42 @777-wonders @last-girl @pedgeitopascalreads @pedrostories

[trans-shuichisaihara]

it's been a long time since i added any new pieces to my tragedy au, but i've been thinking about Them again so here's a fic

---------

The van shook and groaned as they tore their way through the ruins of what used to be Kobe. Smoke lingered in the air, polluted evidence that the attack on this area had been recent.

Mere hours had passed since they were forced to abandon their home in the face of Ultimate Despair supporters closing in on the area surrounding Kyoto. Kokichi clenched the steering wheel tightly, sharply turning to avoid a fallen piece of rubble. This was such a mess. He almost wished they’d—no. He pushed that thought out of his mind. Things were fine. They had the necessities and that was all they needed. He repeated that over and over, as if it would block out Kaede’s crying in the back seat.

Miu wasn’t much better. “I just hated it, alright?!” She outright denied every potential new base, taking one look at the setup and deeming it either irreparable or just not good enough.

“If you keep hating everything, we’re going to have to sleep in the car tonight,” he finally rebutted, getting frustrated at her refusal to drop her standards for one whole night.

“I’d rather sleep in the car than some drafty, unsafe pile of crap!”

They continued arguing for a while, before Kaede finally spoke up. “Would you please stop yelling.” Her broken yet firm tone efficiently silenced the two of them—it was a command, not a request.

A long silence hung over them like a guillotine, the reality of their situation looming overhead as that blade might—threateningly. This wasn’t the time for petty squabbling, but there was nothing else they could do either to relieve the fear in their hearts.

“We can’t sleep in the van,” Kokichi finally muttered, squeezing the steering wheel. “And we can’t keep searching forever. We’re going to run out of gas soon.”

Miu leaned against the passenger’s window, hugging her arms to her chest. She let out a huff, her breath clouding the glass before dissipating. Quietly, she responded, “Fine. Just pick one, and I’ll get us some new gas, and we’ll find a better place tomorrow.”

It wasn’t a concession, but it was certainly a compromise. Kokichi knew that Miu was struggling with everything just as much as Kaede was—trying to process that their home was gone, that their parents were dead... Certainly, he held no hard feelings towards her—she was his bestest friend in this whole wide shitty world, after all.

But because he was her best friend, he knew that he had to keep her safe. So, if that meant forcing her to stay put in a shitty ruined building when anything intact would be an easy target of any rioters or followers of Despair, he would do it in a heartbeat.

Ideally, he’d find some place crummy, but not too crummy. Unappealing on the outside, but intact on the inside. Miu wasn’t exactly wrong in denying some of the places they’d looked at earlier, but... Beggars really couldn’t be choosers.

He drove them into a gloomy neighborhood, slowing the car to a crawl. They observed each ruined house in turn, trying their best to ignore the splatters of dried blood on the cracked streets and driveways.

After a few minutes of “window shopping”, Miu sighed loudly. “These all suck.”

In the rearview mirror, Kokichi saw Kaede grimace. “I don’t disagree. There’s a lot of bomb damage in this area...”

“That works out in our favor,” Kokichi pointed out. “If they’ve hit this area, there probably won’t be too many people around, and they probably won’t target this area in the near future either.”

Miu harrumphed. “Stop being right about things. Just find one that isn’t fucked up already.”

Silently, he continued on, and after a few more minutes he found their first candidate in this area. A small two-storied house with an intact driveway, which they pulled up onto before getting out.

“The windows are shattered,” Miu complained as Kaede was grabbing their self defense weapons—nothing special, just a crowbar for Miu, a kitchen knife for Kaede, and a baseball bat for Kokichi.

“Just give it a chance, Miu,” Kaede begged, exhaustion pulling her shoulders downward. Miu frowned, but she complied and said nothing more as they made their way inside through the open front door.

It was dark inside, and though he could assume it was pointless, he still tried to flick the light switch to turn the lights on. Nothing, of course—the power grid in this area was probably long gone, annihilated in the destruction of Kobe. Reluctantly, he flicked on his flashlight, and Kaede did the same with hers.

“I’ll check the security of the first floor,” he decided, his voice firm as he made the call and continued delegating tasks, “Akamatsu-chan, check and see if the upstairs is intact. Iruma-chan, see if the garage has space and opens—if we can get the van hidden away, and the building is stable, this’ll have to do.”

Kaede nodded, while Miu gave him a shrug, again commenting, “The windows are busted; that’s a major weak point.”

Kokichi couldn’t disagree there. “Yes, but if we can lock and barricade the doors, some broken windows aren’t going to be that big of a deal. It might even tell others that this place is useless—no one would camp out in a house with broken windows, yeah?”

Again, Miu shrugged, but she seemed to accept his response as she wandered off towards the logical location of the garage, opening a door before flicking on her flashlight. It seemed to be it, as she walked through the door and started looking around.

“I’m going upstairs; be careful around the broken glass, okay?” Kaede gave him a smile before going off on her assignment, the stairs creaking as she walked up them. Kokichi watched her go, before silently beginning to patrol the first floor.

The windows in the front were shattered, but the side and back ones were still intact. The doors themselves were untouched, aside from the wear-and-tear one would expect on a home that had been lived in for many years. There weren’t any unpleasant smells, aside from spoiled food in an unpowered fridge. It looked a bit battered from the outside, but overall it was in relatively good shape.

Whoever lived here must’ve met their unfortunate end elsewhere, or fled. Hopefully it was the latter.

Miu returned from her search first, hands on her hips as she announced, “I think we can fit the car in; we’ll have to move a few things, but I was able to get the door open manually.”

He gave her a smile and decided to tease her. “I’m so glad that wasn’t too much for your itty bitty piggy brain to figure out!”

Somehow his response seemed to surprise her, and it took a moment before she pushed him by his shoulder in retaliation. “You lil shit, you think now’s the time to be flirting with me?” She stuck her tongue out at him, and his smile turned into a mischievous grin.

“Me, flirt with you? Wow, someone’s getting haughty!” He stuck his tongue out at her cheekily. “I thought the smell in here was coming from you, and I’m not into pigs that roll around in the mud!”

They poked and prodded at each other while they waited for Kaede, but after a few minutes, their bantering simmered and slowed to a stop. They stood in tense silence, Miu’s brows furrowed as she looked at the stairs. Kokichi looked as well, both of their minds in sync.

“She’s taking a while.”

“Yeah.”

Miu shifted in place. “You didn’t hear anything weird?”

He shook his head. “It’s been quiet.”

“... Maybe she’s just being really careful.”

“Maybe.”

The way the staircase loomed in front of them was starting to become unbearable. Finally, Kokichi scoffed and, without announcing it, he started towards the stairs.

“H-Hey, wait up!” Miu was at his heels as he ascended the stairs, his footsteps light enough that they made no sound—there was only the delayed creak of Miu’s steps behind him.

There was a murmur of sound on the second floor—voices—and Kokichi’s heart grew fearful and panicked. Quickly, he swerved his head around to pinpoint the location and darted towards a door at the end of the hall.

“What—” Miu started to ask, but Kokichi gave her a stern look and a finger to his lips as he pressed his ear to the door.

“What was that?” an unfamiliar voice asked—a man.

“Hm? Oh, that sounded like Miu; she’s my sister,” Kaede answered. “Ah, I’m sorry, I’m keeping them waiting. C’mon, I’ll—”

Kokichi shoved open the door. The stranger and Kaede both jumped, and Kokichi took advantage of their surprise to run forward and disable the stranger by kicking him straight in the knee.

He fell like a sack of potatoes to his side, shouting out in pain and alarm. “What the fuck?!”

“Akamatsu-chan, hurry downstairs; I’ll make sure this guy doesn’t get the chance to do anything,” he growled, distrust and fear mixing crudely in his heart. His grip on his baseball bat was tight as he shoved the tip of it into the stranger’s shoulder.

Kaede stared at him with wide eyes. “Huh? Ouma-kun, what—ah, no, you’ve got the wrong idea!” She did the opposite as he commanded, instead hurrying to his side and grabbing his wrist. “He’s friendly! He’s in high school, just like us!”

Kokichi took another look at him—true enough, he looked about their age, with dark messy hair and an ugly goatee on his chin. He held his kicked knee and looked up at him with confusion-filled eyes.

He scoffed, looking back to Kaede. “Age and friendliness mean nothing,” he rebutted, twisting his wrist from her grasp. “Don’t forget there were teens in that riot in Kyoto, too.”

Kaede winced and stepped back. “Ouma-kun, I know that.”

“You know this guy?” the stranger asked, shoving at the baseball bat to divert it away from him. Kokichi scowled and aimed it back at him.

“Ah, yes, this is my friend Ouma Kokichi-kun—” Kaede introduced.

“Akamatsu-chan,” he hissed at her, “Don’t be so casual with giving out our names to people!”

“Ouma, huh?” the stranger repeated without bothering to use any honorifics. He inched back enough that he could stand up again, massaging his knee. “C’mon, I swear I’m not gonna hurt you guys; I was just tryin’ to bunker down for a while, and then Akamatsu here walked in.”

“Well, this is our place!” Kokichi declared, looking back to Miu. “Isn’t that right, Iruma-chan?”

“Huh?!” She blinked at him, before scowling. “Well, yeah, of course! I don’t want to go looking for another place when this one is actually decent!”

“Ouma-kun, he was here first,” Kaede chided. “But even so, he said it was okay if we bunkered down here for the night with him.” She turned to the stranger. “Right, Momota-kun?”

“Momota” hesitated. “Uh, well, yeah. I did say that...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But this Ouma guy here doesn’t seem to want to play nice...”

“Of course not! Playing nice with strangers is a sure way to get stabbed to death while we sleep!” he retorted. “No one would be stupid enough to share a living space with a total stranger in this nightmare!”

Both Momota and Kaede were silent. Miu crossed her arms, frowning.

Receiving no response, Kokichi pushed forward. “It’s three against one, and so you gotta leave,” he declared.

Momota’s jaw fell. “Don’t be stupid—and selfish, for that matter! I was here first!”

“Ouma-kun, I’m certain about him being safe,” Kaede insisted, putting herself between the two again. “If something happens, it’ll be my fault, okay?”

He glared up at her. “And if he hurts you or Iruma-chan? What then?”

“I’m not going to—!” “He’s not going to—!” Momota and Kaede said at the same time, before looking at each other. He gave her a nervous grin while she quietly laughed.

“Oh no, no you don’t!” Kokichi shoved his way past Kaede, stomping up to Momota. “Listen here, mister! You better not touch Akamatsu-chan, or Iruma-chan and me are gonna let you have it! I know she’s a total catch and all but she’s got super high standards and you certainly aren’t enough of a catch to be worth reeling in!”

Momota’s eyes widened and he gasped like a fish, stammering out, “No, it’s not like that! I’m not gonna do something like that, I just was being nice ‘cause she was being nice—”

“Aha! The victim blaming type!” Kokichi shoved his finger into Momota’s chest. “I’ve got you read like a book. Yup, I’m gonna keep an eye on you—and in the morning, you better leave, got it?”

“Ouma-kun...” Kaede sighed, bringing a hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry, Momota-kun. He’s normally not like this...”

Momota grimaced. “I sure would hope not, or else I’d wonder why you’re friends with a guy like him...”

Kokichi huffed. “I’ll have you know I’m a much better choice as a friend than you would ever be, thank you very much.” He walked behind Momota and roughly shoved him towards the door. “Anyway! This is our room now! Go find a different room—and then tomorrow, you better leave! I’m serious!” he demanded and reiterated, even as Momota protested.

Yes, it would all be better once they got this stranger out of their hair.

(Little did he know, this stranger named Momota Kaito wasn’t going anywhere.)

[inamagicalhallucination]

i love those fics where the straw hats r in modern times but have vague memories of the previous life - i'd really like one (and there might be one already lmao idk) where luffy is the one who doesn't remember out of the straw hats

the first straw hat to see luffy in modern times is jinbe, who sees him when he's a kid - he double takes but luffy is there with ace and that chokes jinbe up too and before he can approach the two leave - jinbe reminds himself that he hasn't had his memories for that long and luffy is still a kid - if the straw hats get their memories, it'll be as they get older, jinbe just has to be patient

/

sanji is in junior high; he's in a cooking lab, it's after school. he's been having these strange dreams and at first he dismissed them as just that but he has them over and over; he's there in the cooking lab, after school and a flash of green catches his eye and he hesitates for a few minutes before rushing after it and there's one of the people from his dream - zoro

zoro seems equally surprised to see him and they just stand there, not knowing what to say, and how to react - both recognizing each other but not really

/

nami knows here strange dreams are more than dreams; she knows it but no matter where she looks she can't find any of the people in them

its a coincidence that her mother took her sister and her a little out of town to shop - it's a coincidence that an art shop catches her eyes and she wanders in, hoping to find some new inking pens - it's a coincidence that another teenager with a peculiar nose is there too and the name spills from her almost instinctively and usopp turns in confusion but only momentarily as recognition fills in

/

nami and usopp and sanji and zoro

the next people to run into each other are sanji and usopp - and quite literally at that; they bump into each other on the street one day and when they both look up to apologize they gasp and thats how all four of them become together

"do you know where the one with the strawhat is"

"...luffy?"

/

robin is at the library and theres a small child there trying to reach for a book too high and too advanced; she gets up ultimately and grabs it for him and he's so familiar (she feels herself holding on to something that isn't there again) but she cannot explain why and he looks at her with a strange expression but they do not speak further

not until its been weeks and they come to the same library and chopper asks if she would mind a study buddy

/

brook is strumming his guitar at the side of the street - he's been playing a lot of concerts in recent years and wanted to just relax now - relaxation is still music though, so he found a nice place to sit and started to play - in his mind he can hear a voice singing , out of tune as it may be, and he already knows who it is - he already knows about his memories

he should search for them - he supposes - but he never knows if they'll remember

he strums more, beat switching to something more familiar and then someone tells him he used to play this all the time and that is how brooks meets jinbe

/

franky's strange dreams in the midst of his stranger dreams are of no concern to him

sure they leave him empty and wishing sometimes but they mean nothing

not until he's fixing up some car at his workshop and a group of four come in specifically asking for him

thats how franky meets usopp nami zoro and sanji

/

vivi tells all her strange dreams to her pet; she writes them down, dreams of adventure and friends and one day she decides she'll write them into a book - something as grand as all the people who live in her head

she heads to a local library to start

she meets someone who she feels she should resent but cannot truly

/

luffy has no such dreams

/

the second person to meet luffy is brook who's open guitar case luffy puts a few dollars in and then pauses when the music stops and the man stares at him

"lu-"

"luffy!" whatever he's going to say is forgotten as luffy's brother calls for him and luffy heads to him instead

luffy doesn't remember brook realizes; it's okay though, he'll just wait longer

/

luffy has two older brothers; they don't have strange dreams either; all three of them are content in their life - in their shared apartment, close enough to both ms. makino's and dadan's places

they are content and happy to live as brothers - they do whatever they want; sometimes it feels like people are watching them

ace opens a flower shop in honor of his mother

luffy likes the colors so he sits there in his free time

/

usopp is only at the flower shop to pick up something for his mother

"those are the flowers my brother gives his mom!" an achingly familiar voice says

usopp turns around, words and breath caught in his throat - he doesn't know what to say but he must have said something becuz next thing he knows he's making his way to his mother, that very bouquet in his hand

luffy doesn't remember

/

one by one they all meet luffy; luffy with his same smile; luffy with his happy content life with his brothers; luffy with no recognition in his eyes

suddenly they are too big, too strange, too different to fit into luffy's life where he seems to have everything

/

they forget that luffy is easy to love and loves just as easy and always has room for more people

even these strange ones with memories in their eyes luffy will never know

/

anyway the idea is that all the strawhats but luffy recall their past life and feel some sort of emptiness they all try to find luffy and meet him in various times and he never recognizes them

they meet each other too, gradually, and become friends but theyre still searching for luffy - but luffy is content in his life unlike them, he's with his brothers and he's happy and at that realization they suddenly feel as if they are trying to impose onto his life - but of course luffy is luffy and he may not remember but he has plenty of room to welcome people into his life and yeah

[4littlefishies]

The Eighth of September - Are You Nervous?

satoru gojo x suguru geto

warnings: none :)

wc: 11k

previous chapter here!

“Suguru, do you know where my black Giants hoodie is? You know- the one with the logo on the front and the letters down the arm.”

“You mean my Giants hoodie?” Suguru asks as his hands parse through his side of the closet, searching for a shirt to wear. 

“You know what I mean!” Satoru shoots back, turning over his shoulder to look at Suguru as they stand in their closet opposite of each other. “Do you know where it is?” They were getting dressed to head to the train station to pick up Suguru’s mom. It would take them about an hour to get there from where they now lived, so they needed to leave soon in order to make it on time.

“It’s in my office.” He answers with a smirk and a shake of his head, knowing that Satoru likes to steal his clothes and he won’t be able to keep it from him. It puts a bigger smile on his face as Satoru hurries out of the closet and presumably towards his office. He ultimately picks out a simple white button down and throws it on, tucking it into his dark blue pants and buttoning it up as he walks out of the closet and back into their bedroom where Shiro is sleeping in her spot at the foot of the bed. Leaning down with a soft smile and a gentle hand, Suguru pets her, earning a small chirp from her as she lifts her head up. After a few more pets, she rests her head back down on her paws and closes her eyes.

Satoru comes back, now wearing the hoodie he had been on the hunt for with a smile on his face. “You ready to go?” He asks as he looks down at Shiro with a smile, grabbing his phone from where it sits on his nightstand and shoving it into his pocket. He turns around to see Suguru and his eyes widen slightly. “Woah,” he sighs out, somewhat taken aback, “you’re actually wearing your hair down today?” 

Suguru gives him a sheepish smile. “Does it look alright?” It’s far from the norm for him, but he just didn’t feel like tying it up today.

“It looks better than alright, baby.” Satoru says in response, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek before they head out of their room towards the front door. Suguru opens up the front closet and grabs out a very deep teal blue jacket and pulls it on before they both grab their shoes and slip them on and head out the door. 

Descending down the stairs towards the garage, their breath is visible in the cold temperature of the late December morning. It’s just after 7am and the sun is just barely coming up into the sky, not quite helping to warm everything up just yet. The sky is clear, but that just makes it all the colder with no clouds to keep the heat in.

Suguru’s keys jingle with his hurried steps where they hang off of his finger. They quickly get into the garage and into the car with a huff. “Holy shit, it’s freezing.” Suguru curses out as he starts the car, still able to faintly see his warm breath as he talks. He immediately cranks the heat up as they sit there. Satoru turns on the heated seats and cups his hands over his mouth and nose, trying to use his hot breath to warm up his face. 

“Your mom didn’t wanna come a little bit later? Like when I could actually feel my fingers when I step outside?” Satoru asks jokingly, shoving his hands under his legs to hopefully get them warmed up by the heated seats. 

Suguru shakes his head with a smile as he clicks the remote to open the garage door. “I asked her, but she wanted to be on the first train out.” He says, sounding only mildly annoyed that he had to wake up so early on one of his days off of work. Although he’d still rather be in bed snuggled up under the covers with Satoru, he’s excited to see his mom.

He backs out of the garage and into the street where they begin their journey into the city. The drive isn’t too bad; most people are still in their homes and not yet out and about on the roads. They listen to Satoru’s upbeat and happy playlist as Suguru drives, paying attention to the smooth pavement in front of them. He rests his hand on Satoru’s leg, smiling when he feels him fidgeting with his rings that sit on his fingers. After giving Satoru’s leg a light squeeze, he grabs his hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it before setting it back down. 

Satoru smiles at the feeling of his warm lips on the skin of his hand, looking over at the way his midnight hair falls over his face and shoulders. “You should wear your hair like this more often,” He pipes up with a smile as he brings his hand up to carefully but quickly run his fingers through it. 

“You think so?” Suguru asks, his eyes flashing to look over at Satoru and back at the road.

“Mhm. It looks so voluminous and sexy.” Satoru says dramatically, earning a light chuckle and a head shake from Suguru. His eyes stay locked on Suguru’s face as he looks over his features for a while, admiring everything about him as he focuses on the road.

“You’re staring too loud.” Suguru says, seeing Satoru’s eyes still on him out of the corner of his vision.

“I don’t think I’m staring loud enough, actually.” Satoru shoots back with a cheeky smirk, grabbing Suguru’s hand and bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to the back of his hand just as he had done before setting it back down on his own thigh. 

The rest of their drive is similarly uneventful, a few more cars starting to surround them on the roads the further they get into the city with more people heading into their last day of work before the new year. Satoru seems to get more excited the closer they get. Suguru’s mother was admittedly one of his favorite people, and he was always happy when he got the chance to see her. 

Suguru feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and hands it to Satoru, realizing that it’s probably his mom texting him. “Can you check that? It’s probably mom telling us where she’s at.”

Satoru unlocks and slides open the phone to read the text from Kazuko.

‘Just got off of the train, heading out towards the front. Let me know where to meet you.’

“She’s heading out towards the front.” Satoru quickly decides that it would be easier to find her if he calls her, so he presses the button to call her and holds Suguru’s phone to his ear. “Hi Okaasan,” He says, his smile coming through loud and clear in his voice, “We’re about 2 minutes away.”

Suguru can’t decipher clearly what his mother is saying on the other end of the phone, so all he understands is Satoru’s side of the conversation. “Yeah, we’re just at the light right around the corner… Okay, we’re moving now… Are you wearing a long black coat? I think I see you.” Suguru chuckles lightly as he drives, letting Satoru talk to his mom. “We’re in the white car pulling up right now… Okay… Okay, bye.” He finishes and hands the phone back to Suguru as they pull up to the sidewalk where she stands waiting patiently. 

As soon as Suguru comes to a stop, Satoru opens the door and jumps out of the car with open arms and pulls Kazuko in for a hug, a giant smile painted on his face as if it’s his own mother he’s seeing. Suguru puts the car in park and steps out to go help her with putting her bag in the trunk, letting Satoru have his own moment with his mom. 

“Hi mom,” He says with a smile as he takes her bag from where it sits beside her on the ground. Setting it in the trunk, he closes it and steps back up onto the curb. Satoru finally lets go and she looks up at her son with a wide smile, happy to see him after many months apart.

“Hi sweetheart,” She replies with open arms. Suguru gives her a hug as well, leaning down to let her kiss him on the cheek. 

“Have you been waiting long? Your lips are freezing.” Suguru notes, looking down at her. She’s bundled up in a long black coat with a long grey skirt with a scarf around her neck, but it’s still pretty cold outside.

“Not at all, but you’re right, let’s go.” She says. He falls back down into the driver's seat, pulling the door shut behind him.

“You can have the front seat, Okaasan.” Satoru says, opening up the door to the back seat. 

“Oh, no no no, you take the front seat, honey. I’m perfectly fine in the back.” She says, holding her hands out in front of her and shaking her head with furrowed brows. 

“Are you sure?” Satoru asks, raising his eyebrows in suspicion. 

“I’m sure,” She nods her head, reassuring him, “And besides - I’m not sure you would even fit back here.” She climbs into the surprisingly roomy backseat of Suguru’s car and Satoru closes the door gently before hurrying back around to the front seat on the other side. He climbs in and lets out a huff, happy to be back on the heated seat after only a short moment out in the cold. 

“How was the ride?” Suguru asks as he pulls away from the sidewalk, looking in the rearview mirror at his mother before focusing back on the road. 

“Oh, not too bad. I had the row to myself, so that was nice. I was able to get a big portion of this scarf done,” She explains, pulling a mostly-done burnt orange scarf out of her bag. Satoru looks back over his shoulder to see what it is that she’s holding up.

“You made that?” He asks with his jaw dropped, slightly surprised. She nods her head with a proud smile on her face. “That’s amazing,” He continues, looking at the crocheted scarf that sits in her lap.

“Are you hungry?” Suguru continues. “We can stop somewhere if you want or I can make us all something when we get home.” 

“I don’t need anything just yet,” Kazuko voices from the back seat as Suguru gets onto the expressway back down towards Kamakura. “I’m just excited to see the house.” She says with a soft smile on her face, one very similar to the one that Suguru often wears.

“I can make us tamagoyaki and miso soup if that sounds good?” Suguru suggests, knowing that it’s one of his mother’s favorite breakfasts. 

“That sounds perfect, honey.” She agrees, looking out the window at everything there is to see as they drive back through the city. 

Although they talked at least a couple times a week, it had been months since Suguru had seen his mom. The last time they’d seen each other was before their wedding, just after they got back from the six months in Fukuoka, so of course Satoru was excited to show her the silver ring that circled his ring finger. It warmed her heart as she looked at it, happy that her son had found someone to love him just as much as she did. 

As they pull back up to the front of the garage after their hour-long journey back home, Suguru presses the button to open up the door, pulling in and turning the car off while Satoru and his mother get out. He opens up the trunk and Satoru grabs Kazuko’s bag for her, shutting it as Suguru gets out of the car.

“Let’s get inside where it’s warm.” Satoru says, hurrying out the side door and up the stairs towards the front door. Kazuko follows behind and Suguru brings up the back, locking the car and closing the garage door. Satoru already has the door open and is inside slipping his shoes off when they make it up the stairs. Suguru closes the front door behind them and slips off his shoes and jacket, hanging it back up in the front closet. “Would you like a tour?” Satoru asks, still holding her bag in his hand. Suguru takes her coat from her and hangs it along with his in the closet, revealing the cream colored sweater that she wears on top of the skirt.

“I would love one,” She responds, looking up at him with a gentle smile, excited to see their new home. Satoru holds out his arm for her to hold onto, which she graciously takes, causing a head shake and a silent chuckle from Suguru as he follows behind the two of them. He’s insanely happy at the friendly relationship that the two of them have. Satoru isn’t one to talk about his own family, Suguru having heard little of them despite having known each other and spent just about every moment together for the past three years. He doesn’t talk about them, so Suguru doesn’t ask, knowing that if he wants to talk about them or has any reason to, that he will. 

He first takes her to the left to show off Suguru’s office. He excitedly points out the gallery wall full of their wedding pictures that he’d hung up just days prior.

“They look even better in person!” She says, leaning forward to look at the frames that sit on the wall.

“You showed my mom before you showed me?!” Suguru asks with his mouth agape, dumbfounded that his mom had seen his wedding pictures before he had.

“Sugu, I had to show someone to make sure they looked alright.” Satoru defends himself while Suguru crosses his arms with furrowed brows, clicking his tongue a couple times in disapproval. “No pouting while your mother’s here.” He says as he ushers them out of the office to show off the rest of the ground floor.

He decides to stop quickly at the piano to play a short tune for Suguru and his mother. Both Kazuko and Suguru are mesmerized by the beautiful melody that he plays. “Are you done showing off now?” Suguru asks playfully as Satoru finishes up the short piece.

“Hmmm,” Satoru hums, tapping his lips as he pretends to think thoroughly about his answer, “Probably not.” 

Next, they head upstairs to where the living room and kitchen sit, along with the dining room and the guest room that Kazuko will be staying in. Satoru sets her bag down next to the dresser. “There’s even your own bathroom in here and everything,” He points out with a smile, excited to have her staying with them for the new year. He even goes through the drawers, showing her everything they had bought for her to use if she needed anything while she was staying with them. 

“Thank you Satoru.” She says, bowing her head slightly. “The house is gorgeous.” 

“Do you want to see the best part?” Satoru asks, piquing her interest quite a bit. 

“I don’t see why not.” She says, excited to see what else he has.

“You two go do that, I’m going to get started on breakfast, okay?” Suguru asks as Satoru and his mother head up another set of stairs towards the roof while he heads into the kitchen. He first pulls out the ingredients to start on the soup and gets a pot of water on the stove before quickly chopping up the tofu and green onions. It doesn’t take long for Satoru and Kazuko to come back down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

“How’d you like it?” Suguru asks as he finishes chopping everything up.

“The view is beautiful,” She says, a smile still on her face from the sight. “That’s going to be perfect in the summer.” Suguru smiles to himself as she pulls out one of the barstools and sits down at the counter to watch him. 

“Do you need any help?” Satoru asks, joining them in the kitchen with a gentle hand on Suguru’s back. 

“Do you wanna make the tamagoyaki? Or you can keep going on the soup and I can do that? You decide.” Suguru has a soft smile on his face and a warmth in his chest as Satoru runs his hand over his lower back softly.

“I got you babe,” Satoru says sweetly, pulling out the ingredients for tamagoyaki. “Okaasan, are you okay with nori, or would you like a different kind?” He smiles at her as he walks backward towards the pantry to grab what else he needs.

Kazuko smiles at the way he refers to her, despite having told him that it’s okay to just call her by her name. “Nori is fine,” She says with a soft nod. 

Satoru grabs everything he needs while Suguru continues with the soup, having started some rice cooking as well. “You can go sit on the couch if you want,” Suguru says, looking over his shoulder at his mom as he stands at the stove. “We’ve got everything in here and it’s probably more comfortable than the barstool.”

“You’re trying to get rid of me already?” She teases him with a smile as she stands up from where she sits against the island. 

“You know that’s not what I’m doing,” Suguru responds, shaking his head with a silent chuckle as she heads over to sit in the living room. She opts to sit in Satoru’s chair rather than the couch, curious to see if it’s comfortable or just pretty-looking. After sitting down, she quickly realizes that it’s not just a nice looking chair and is actually very pleasant to sit in. 

“I think I could take a nap in this chair.”

“It’s really nice, isn’t it?” Satoru calls out, the smile loud in his voice as he cracks eggs into a bowl. “It’s definitely a good chair to fall asleep in.”

Suguru smiles to himself at their conversation, leaving the not yet boiling water at the stove to stand behind Satoru at the island. He rests his chin on his shoulder as he snakes his hands around his waist, squeezing and holding him for a moment while letting his eyes close. He takes a deep breath in through his nose and lets it out slowly. Satoru finishes up cracking the eggs and whisks them together as Suguru stands behind him silently.

“Someone’s clingy today, hm?” Satoru teases, his voice a whisper just loud enough so that Suguru can hear him. 

Suguru smiles and presses a quick kiss to the side of Satoru’s neck before letting go and heading back over to the stove to see that the water is finally boiling. He turns down the temperature and adds in the dashi and tofu. “Just gotta let that simmer for a minute,” He says, mostly to himself as he turns back around.

Satoru grabs a pan and sets it on the stove and starts on cooking the tamagoyaki with laser focus in order to get the perfect roll. Suguru watches as his brows furrow, wanting to not mess it up. Without Satoru noticing, he takes out his phone and snaps a picture, smiling at the way he’s looking at the pan as he adds oil, pours the mixture in, folds it, and repeats the process. Suguru doesn’t say anything, just silently admiring the way he’s able to get the most beautiful looking tamagoyaki he’s ever seen. 

“I think that’s even better than how my dad would do it,” Suguru praises him quietly as he transferred the roll onto a plate to cut it up into smaller portions. 

“You think so?” Satoru asks sincerely as he grabs a knife.

Suguru nods his head. “Mom, do you remember how good dad was at getting the tamagoyaki looking perfect?” Suguru asks, knowing that she absolutely does. As a child, watching him do it was one of his favorite parts of getting to eat it. Somehow every time he did it seemed more perfect than the last. “Don’t cut it yet.” He says softly, wanting to show it off to his mom.

“I do,” She says, nodding her head as she stands up from satoru’s chair and heads back to join them in the kitchen.

“Look at this, isn’t that perfect?” Suguru shows off Satoru’s work, putting a feeling of pride in Satoru’s chest as Kazuko comes to admire his perfect roll.

“Wow, that really is good. It almost looks like it was made in a machine,” She says, slightly surprised at how uniform and well-proportioned it is. Satoru smiles wide, proud of his work and all the praise he’s receiving for it. 

“Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all week,” he jokes with a bow. Both Suguru and Kazuko let out a soft laugh at his reaction while he uses the knife to cut it into perfect segments. The nori is perfectly folded in between the layers, making for a dark green and yellow rainbow of flavors. 

Suguru takes the soup off the heat and finishes it off with the miso paste and finally the green onions. He lets it remain where it sits on the stove as he grabs everything to go set the table for their breakfast. As he does that, Satoru fills up the electric kettle and turns it on to get some water boiling for tea. “You can sit at the table, mom, we’ve got it,” Suguru urges his mom to let them do all the work. With a smile she takes the chair at the head of the table, happy to not worry about doing it herself. 

She looks out through the wall of windows, taking in all the greenery of the garden, the distant view of the mountain, and the blue of the ocean. She smiles to herself, pleased that the two of them were able to get such a beautiful house to settle into. When Suguru brings over the soup, she’s taken out of her thoughts. Satoru sets the tamagoyaki down next to it, and Suguru comes back with rice before taking his seat next to Kazuko. Finally, Satoru brings over the small teapot and pours green tea into each of their cups before setting it down on the table.

“Thank you very much,” She says with a smile as Satoru takes the seat across the table from where Suguru sits, on the other side of her.

“You’re very welcome,” Satoru says in response with a similar smile. “I’m starving and this smells amazing, so let’s eat.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“So…” Kazuko starts. She’s sitting in the living room with Suguru on the couch, watching the New Years Eve festivities on the tv when Satoru ran downstairs to grab something from the bedroom. Suguru looks at her from where he sits at the other end of the couch under a blanket with his feet up, resting in the corner, waiting for his white-haired counterpart to return. He raises his brow, urging her to continue. She had asked him about it before, but thought she’d ask again. “Am I ever going to get some grandkids?” She asks softly with a smirk on her lips. There’s a teasing tilt in her voice, but she’s 100% serious in her questioning. 

Suguru lets out a chuckle, not surprised that she’s asking. “Mom,” he groans, letting his head fall back as he looks up at the ceiling with an open mouthed smile, “They don’t just appear out of thin air.”

“You think I don’t know that?” She hits him back with a tinge of sass in her tone. “It takes time, that’s why I’m asking now.” 

Suguru takes a deep breath and lets it out, his lips blowing a raspberry as he lifts his head back up and looks over at his mother. “Don’t worry… You’ll get your grandkids,” he says with a smile and a shake of his head as he hears Satoru’s footsteps coming back up the stairs. 

“I’m just saying…” she says as Satoru rounds the edge of the couch and falls back into his place snuggled up next to Suguru. “It’s a new year; it’s a good time to think about these things.”

“What things?” Satoru asks, having come upstairs into the conversation as it was finishing up. He pulls the blanket back over himself, tangling his legs with Suguru’s underneath it. Shiro jumps up and plops herself down next to him, having followed him downstairs when he left and back up.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Suguru says, trying to brush it off so they don’t have to continue talking about it, but of course Satoru isn’t one to just be left out of a conversation.

“No, but I wanna know,” he says, giving Shiro a pet as he’s looking between Suguru and Kazuko. 

Suguru lets out a sigh, looking over at his mom who is going to let him take this one, not wanting to say something if it’s going to make him upset. “I’ll tell you later, okay?” He decides to say, not really wanting to talk about it anymore at the moment, considering his mom is there. Satoru furrows his brows, but can tell that he really doesn’t want to continue the conversation, so he gives it a rest for now. 

“Do you want some mochi?” Satoru asks Suguru as he sits forward and stands up, despite having just sat back down.

“Baby, we just ate some not that long ago, aren’t you full after dinner?” 

Kazuko had made Toshikoshi soba for the three of them, a popular new year's eve tradition that she made every year. Satoru wanted to do everything he could to help her, so he and Kazuko worked together while Suguru sat in the living room and listened to their conversation with a smile on his face. It made him happy to hear the way they interacted and that they got along so well. Satoru was his normal charming self, but was also a big help to her as they were preparing the meal. It came out delicious and Satoru found himself wanting even more after they were finished. After their diligently crafted dinner, they had some fruit daifuku that Shoko and Utahime had sent them to celebrate the new year.

“Sugu, there’s always room for more dessert. Do you want some more Okaasan?” Satoru calls out as he heads into the kitchen to get some for himself. 

“No thank you, honey, I’m okay for now,” She responds, looking back over the couch towards Satoru. He grabs a couple for himself, as well as Suguru, knowing that he’ll eat them if he brings them. He hurries back out to the living room and plops back down, handing the orange one to Suguru and taking a bite of the strawberry one for himself. Suguru takes it from him with a smile and takes a bite before wrapping his arm around Satoru’s shoulders, pulling him close. 

Satoru rests his head on Suguru’s chest as they watch the tv in the corner of the room. It was just after 10:30, and Kazuko found herself growing tired, her eyes starting to feel heavier and heavier as the night continued on. 

“I think I’m going to head to bed,” she says, standing up from where she sits on the couch. 

Suguru looks up at her with furrowed brows. “You don’t want to stay up with us?” He asks, tracking her with his eyes as she walks around the back of the couch, stopping just behind there they sit.

“I’ve stayed up for the new year plenty of times in my life dear, I think I’ll be fine,” she says before leaning over to press a kiss to the top of his head and patting his shoulder, putting a smile on Suguru’s face. At the same time, Satoru picks up Shiro from where she lies next to him and plops her into his lap. He continues petting her, her white fur soft between his fingers. He can feel the faint vibrations from her purring, putting a smile on his face.

Suguru turns his head, watching as she heads through the kitchen back towards the guest room. “We’ll be out here if you change your mind.”

“Good night!” Satoru calls out with a smile, earning a distant “good night,” from her in response as she disappears down the hallway. He rests his head back down on Suguru’s chest, taking a deep breath in through his nose as he feels his fingers softly brushing over the curve of his shoulder. “Do you wanna tell me what you were talking about now?” He asks, lifting up his head from where it rests to look his husband in the eyes. 

Suguru shakes his head with a smile on his face. “You couldn’t even wait two minutes for her to be gone?” 

“I wanted to know!” Satoru exclaims quietly, trying not to be too loud. He feels Suguru’s chest rise and fall with the deep breath he takes in and lets out through his nose.

“She was asking me about kids…” 

“Oh…” Satoru says, resting his head back down in the same spot as before and looking back up at the tv that plays quietly. “Ours?” 

“Baby, who else’s kids would she be asking me about?” Suguru responds with a chuckle that makes Satoru’s head shake.

“I dunno!” He blurts out, his voice high pitched in response. “Maybe you were talking about one of your cousins or something,” Satoru does his best to defend himself.

“She was asking when we are going to have some, Satoru,” he explains, his finger continuing to stroke random patterns on his husband’s shoulder and upper arm.

“Yeah I kinda put that together,” Satoru says jokingly. “Well…” He says, turning again to look up at Suguru as his own fingers continue petting Shiro delicately.

“Well what?” 

“When do you think?” Satoru asks, curious to know how Suguru feels on the matter.

Suguru takes a breath in through his nose, pressing his lips together for a moment before answering. “Do you think we’re ready?” He asks, all of a sudden feeling his heart beating harder in his chest. They’d talked about it before, but never like this. It always seemed to end in, “We’ll come back to it later,” or “Wait until we have a house,” or, “Let me settle into work first,” but now that they had a house and Suguru had been at his job for over six months now, it felt like a good time to properly have the conversation.

“I don’t see how we could be more ready, Sugu,” Satoru says, although Suguru already knows. “We have a house big enough for as many kids as we could possibly want, you have your job, I have all the time in the world… I don’t see why we need to wait any longer.” Satoru says everything that Suguru was already thinking. He smiles to himself, glad that they’re seemingly on the same page without even fully talking about it yet. 

“I was thinking the same thing,” Suguru says, bringing his other arm around the front of Satoru to pull him in closer to hug him tightly. “It also takes a long time, so I think it would benefit us to start sooner rather than later.”

“Also I think Shiro would love a little sibling, don't you think?” He says with a soft smile, continuing to pet Shiro where she sleeps curled up in his lap. She makes a tiny chirp upon hearing her name, but doesn’t open her eyes, too happy in her current state. “I don’t even know where to start though,” Satoru continues with a sigh, giving Suguru a squeeze in response with his arm that rests around his waist and letting his eyes fall closed. He feels Suguru’s lips press against the top of his head and it puts a smile on his lips.

“How about this,” Suguru starts, having an idea in his head. Satoru is quiet, waiting patiently to hear what he has. “Akiko at my office adopted both of her kids, so once I get back to work, I can ask her to see if she has anyone we can talk to, okay?” He had talked to her about it a few times over his time there and knew that she would more than likely be willing to help. “She’s super sweet and I think she’d be really helpful.”

“That sounds perfect, Suguboo.” Satoru lifts his head once again, craning his neck up, signaling that he wants a kiss. Suguru looks down at him with a smile and leans his head down, connecting their lips gently. 

They both know it’s going to be a long and likely difficult process, but they’re both ready and don’t want to wait any longer. “You’re going to be such a good dad,” Satoru says after a few moments of silence as they watch the tv together. 

Suguru sticks out his bottom lip in response, even though Satoru can’t see it. “You really think so, baby?” He asks, his voice soft and sweet at Satoru’s words.

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t say it if I didn't think so.”

He gives Satoru another tight squeeze and kisses the top of his head, the white hairs tickling the skin of his cheeks. “I think you’re going to be a good dad too.” Suguru responds, now unable to keep his excitement for the year ahead at bay. 

The next hour goes by somewhat quickly, midnight and a brand new year quickly approaching. The two of them migrate up to the roof, wanting to see if they can watch any of the fireworks that will inevitably be going off. They lie on the round daybed that sits to the side of the pool on the deck, surrounded by fluffy blankets that they’d brought up from downstairs to keep them warm in the near freezing temperature. Both of them are bundled up in hoodies and sweats and are underneath no less than two blankets each, but are also snuggled close to one another, keeping warm from one another's body heat. 

“Is it almost midnight?” Satoru asks, able to see his breath as he huddles as close to Suguru as he can. “I might freeze to death before we make it there.”

Suguru looks at his phone for the time. “We have just about 2 minutes. Are you going to turn into a popsicle or do you want to go back inside?” He asks, wrapping his arms around Satoru and hugging him tightly, rubbing his arms to try to help warm him up. 

“We can stay, it’s fine.” 

“I hope this year is as good as last year was,” Suguru says, thinking about where they might be a year from now. They might finally be parents if things go well, but will probably be in the same spot regardless of that outcome - maybe with just one or two more mouths to feed. He hopes that there aren’t too many bumps in the process, but tries not to get his hopes up too high, knowing that it can take years to see actual results. 

“I think it’ll be better,” Satoru states, the smile loud in his voice as he rests against Suguru. “As long as I’m with you, it’ll be great no matter what though.” Suguru smiles at his sentiment, feeling the same way. “I can’t wait to see what’s gonna happen,” Satoru says, looking up at Suguru with a smile, their faces close to each other. The moon is a small sliver in the sky, but the lights that line the side of the deck light up their faces enough to be able to see one another clearly. He leans forward and presses his lips against Suguru’s, letting his fingers thread into his long hair and hold his face close. Suguru does the same, his fingers tracing against Satoru’s short undercut and up into the longer hair, feeling it softly tickling his fingers as their cold lips work against each other tenderly. 

Satoru smiles against his lips, quickly swiping his tongue against Suguru’s bottom lip, earning a smile from him in response. He feels Suguru bite softly at his bottom lip, earning a slight giggle from him as they get lost in the feeling of each other’s quickly warming lips. They don’t even realize that the clock has hit midnight until they start hearing fireworks exploding in the distance. They don’t stop right away, smiling and wanting to savor their last kiss of last year and the first one of the new year.

When they finally pull away from each other, they look into one another’s eyes for a silent moment of bliss. They look towards the direction of downtown Tokyo to see if they can see the explosions of color in the sky. Sounds of far away celebration can be heard all around, people celebrating the new year with their friends and family, as well as the fireworks in the far distance. 

“I love you,” Suguru says with a smile, giving Satoru’s thigh a squeeze under the layers of blankets that cover the two of them. “I’m excited to spend another year with you.

“I love you too,” Satoru replies, a similar smile on his face as he leans in to give Suguru one last kiss. “Can we go inside now? I think I might freeze to death if we don't.”

~~~~~~~~~~

After the new year's festivities, such as visiting Tsurugaoka Hachimangū on the first and then just spending time together the rest of the week, the two of them drop Kazuko back off at the train station for her to head back home to Morioka. The ride back into the city feels much shorter than the last time they did it, their conversation making the time fly by. 

“Thank you so much for coming, Okaasan,” Satoru says with a smile as he hugs her tightly, swaying slowly back and forth as they stand on the sidewalk in front of the station.

“Thank you very much for having me. I can’t wait to see you two again.” Kazuko says in return, saddened to be leaving the pair, but grateful that she was able to spend the week with them in their new house. 

After Satoru finally lets go, Suguru gives his mother a hug. Although he’s also sad to see her go, he’s admittedly a little excited to have the house back to just him and Satoru again. “I love you, mom. Let me know when you make it home, yeah?” He says, giving her one last squeeze.

“I will, honey. I love you too,” She says, giving him a kiss on the cheek before grabbing her bag and heading towards the front doors of the building, back to Morioka until the next time she comes down to visit. 

Satoru is just as sad to see her go. “I love your mom, Sugu,” he says with a slight frown as they climb back into the car. “She’s the best.”

“I definitely got a pretty great one,” Suguru agrees, nodding his head with a gentle smile. Although the mood in the car is slightly somber after dropping off Kazuko, they’re now going for a complete turnaround with their plans for the rest of the day. Suguru punches in the address for the tattoo studio that his artist, Choso works out of. “Are you nervous?” He asks with a teasing tilt in his voice as he puts the car in drive and starts heading in the direction of the shop. 

“Nope!” Satoru says, and he sounds completely confident. 

Suguru is slightly suspicious of his confidence. Although it’s not out of character for him, he feels like he should be more nervous about his first tattoo. “Are you sure? You don’t have to pretend you’re not, baby. I know it’s kinda nerve wracking the first time.” Suguru says, resting his hand on Satoru’s thigh and giving it a comforting squeeze. 

“I’m serious!” Satoru doubles down. “At least I’m not nervous yet. I don’t know if I even will be though.” He’s smug as he continues, and he’s serious. He’s been looking forward to this since Suguru told him the day that their appointment was scheduled for. He has no idea what to expect, but imagines that it can't be that bad. “I mean, you have tattoos all over your chest and shoulders, why should I be nervous?” 

Suguru shakes his head with a smile, not entirely surprised at his seemingly fearless husband. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see then, huh?”

The drive doesn’t take long, only about 20 minutes from the station to the studio. “Nervous yet?” Suguru asks again, giving Satoru’s hand a squeeze as they walk down the sidewalk towards the shop. 

“Hate to break it to you Sugu, but still no,” Satoru says, returning the squeeze. Suguru lets out a slight chuckle, looking over at him as they walk. “Do you want me to be nervous?”

“Honestly, yeah a little bit,” Suguru replies, telling the whole truth. Satoru gives him a light smack on the shoulder with a dramatic scoff. “What?! I’m just telling you the truth baby,” He continues with a chuckle. “It’s a needle in your skin, I think you’d be at least a tiny bit nervous.”

“Yeah, but needles don’t really bother me all that much,” Satoru says with a shrug and a shake of his head.

Suguru furrows his brows as they finally approach the studio. “Right here,” he says with a tilt of his head towards the front door. From the outside, it didn’t exactly scream tattoo studio, so Satoru just about walked right past it. Suguru pulls open the door and lets Satoru head inside first. 

Once inside, Satoru first notices all of the art littered all over the walls. It’s covered in different Japanese traditional style art in different frames, looking very similar to the tattoos that already cover Suguru’s chest and shoulders. It’s only once she pipes up that Satoru notices the girl that’s sitting behind the desk.

“Hello, welcome in!” Says the dyed neon pink haired girl with a wide smile. Satoru has a similar smile on his face as he looks down at her, feeling Suguru join him in standing in front of the desk. “Do you have-” she starts to ask, but then quickly realizes who it is that she’s talking to. “Suguru-chan, is that you?” She asks, her face immediately lighting up as she stands up.

“Hi Yuko-chan,” Suguru says with a small wave and a soft smile on his face. She quickly rounds the corner of the desk and opens her arms, pulling him in for a hug. Satoru watches the interaction with a smile still on his face. The two of them tower over her as they all stand there in the small lobby of the shop. 

“Choso told me you were coming but this still feels like a surprise,” she says, looking up at him and over to Satoru.

“Satoru,” Suguru starts, looking over at his husband and back down at the bubbly woman standing in front of them. “This is Yuko, I went to school with her and Choso in Morioka, and she’s also a tattoo artist.” Satoru sticks out his hand to shake hers politely. “Yuko, this is Satoru, my husband,” Suguru continues, earning a jaw drop from Yuko as she shakes Satoru’s hand.

“Husband?! Has it really been that long since I saw you last?” She asks, looking back over to Suguru with raised brows. 

“Yuko, we saw the wedding pictures on Instagram not that long ago,” another voice sounds out before a man with dark spiky hair up in two buns emerges. He’s wearing a tshirt, but even with it on, Satoru’s able to tell that the tattoos covering his arms go all the way up his shoulders, able to see them poking out of the neckline ever so slightly. 

“You know what, you’re right,” she agrees, nodding her head as she realizes that he’s telling the truth. 

Satoru smiles down at her before looking back at the man that stands behind her. “You must be Choso then,” Satoru says, sticking out his hand to shake his. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Choso parrots back at him, shaking his hand and looking over to Suguru. “I’m all ready for you guys if you wanna follow me up,” he says before turning around and heading up the stairs that sit along the wall. 

Not very talkative I guess, Satoru thinks to himself. The pair of them follow him up the stairs while Yuko locks the front door. They were the only appointments scheduled for the day, so she wanted to catch up with Suguru while Choso was tattooing. 

“Alright, who’s going first?” Choso asks, knowing that they both wanted different placements. 

“Just getting right to it, huh?” Satoru says, looking between Suguru and Choso for a second with a nervous smile on his face. 

He and Suguru look at each other, almost as if talking telepathically. “Do you want me to go first?” Suguru suggests.

“Sure,” Satoru agrees, all of a sudden feeling the nerves starting to build up in his chest and throughout his body. He wasn’t nervous until they stepped into the studio, but now that they were here and things were actually happening, his hands started to feel clammy and his heart was beating hard in his chest. Suguru heads into the small bathroom to change into the shorts he brought because he was getting the tattoo on his thigh. Satoru swallows the lump in his throat and turns around once he hears Yuko start talking again. 

“Satoru-san, you can sit down on the couch right here or you can pull up one of these chairs if you’d like.” She says, motioning around the small room to the multiple chairs. “There’s snacks and drinks in here too, so if you want anything, don’t hesitate to just take something,” she continues, gesturing towards the mini fridge, wanting him to make himself at home. She clicks on her phone, starting some soft music to make for not such a silent atmosphere.

“Thank you very much Yuko-san,” Satoru says with a nod of his head as he shrugs off his jacket and falls back into the couch that sits up against the wall. He reaches for the small bowl of candy that sits on top of the fridge, grabbing a Hi-chew and unwrapping it before popping it in his mouth.

“You can just call me Yuko, that’s fine with me,” she says with a smile as she organizes at her station.

Satoru returns the smile back to her and pulls out his phone, trying to distract himself. Suguru comes out of the restroom changed into his shorts and Choso stands at the sink, washing his hands. “Are you still going to go with the thigh placement?” He asks as Suguru stands there patiently.

“Yeah, if you think that would work.” 

“Yuko, do you have the different sizes over there?” Choso asks as he dries off his hands and grabs a pair of gloves. She hands the different sizes of the printed out tattoo over to Suguru, letting him look through them. He comes over to stand in front of Satoru so that he can show them to him as well. 

“What size do you think?” Suguru asks quietly, wanting his opinion as well. He holds up the biggest one against his leg, looking at Satoru for approval.

“I think that one looks good,” Satoru agrees, nodding his head before looking up at Suguru who smiles back down at him. 

“I’m gonna do the biggest one,” Suguru says, handing the printed out image back to Satoru and turning around.

“Sounds good. “Choso nods his head and finishes pulling on his gloves. “Just stand right here and I’ll get your leg prepped and we’ll get the stencil on.” Choso says, sitting down on his rolling chair to get at a better level to see what he’s doing.

Satoru watches what he does, watching as he starts off by shaving where the tattoo is going to go, then rubbing on some random goo and then finally the stencil. He has to remind himself that Choso’s just doing his job when his hand is pressed up against Suguru’s thigh and unclenches his jaw that he didn’t realize was clenched at first. Even though he knows that Suguru would never do anything to make him question their relationship, he can’t help but still feel a little jealous in situations like this one. 

“Alright, you can check that out in the mirror and if you like it, we can get started.” Choso says, rolling back over towards his tray of needles and ink, pulling his gloves off to put on fresh ones before they start.

Suguru looks at it in the mirror before turning to Satoru to get his opinion. “Does it look good?” 

Satoru nods his head, looking up at Suguru with a smile. “Perfect.” 

“Are you doing okay?” Suguru asks quietly, noticing that Satoru isn’t exactly being his normal outgoing and bubbly self at the moment. Satoru nods his head and smiles up at him, not wanting him to know how he’s actually feeling.

Suguru smiles back down at him and heads over to where the tattoo bed sits, deciding to believe him for now, although he can tell that he’s a little more reserved than usual. As Choso directs Suguru how to lie, Yuko speaks up. “How did you and Suguru meet?” She asks as she turns back and forth in the chair that she sits in with one foot tucked up underneath her other leg. 

It takes Satoru’s mind off of the tattoo to tell her the story, starting with him training Suguru, all the way up to their business trip to Shanghai together. He has no problem talking over the steady hum of the tattoo machine as Choso gets started. Suguru lies with one arm behind his head, smiling up at the ceiling as he listens to Satoru explain everything.

“It’s not my fault that we almost missed out flight Satoru, don’t forget to tell her that part,” Suguru chimes in when he hears Satoru leaving out key details.

“I was getting there, Sugu, hold on.” Satoru shoots back full of sass, leaving a smile on Yuko’s face at seeing the way the two of them interact. He’s able to talk endlessly about the past three years with Suguru without an issue. Yuko keeps asking questions that only leads him into further detail about everything until finally, Suguru sits up.

“Done already?” Satoru asks, looking over at him, hearing the sound of the tattoo machine finally turning off.

“Baby, it’s been almost two hours.” Suguru says, standing up and heading over to the mirror to look at the finished tattoo. “That’s sick.” He says, turning back to look at Choso with a smile. 

“I’m just going to get some second skin on you and then you’ll be good to go.” Choso says, cleaning up after himself as he goes. 

Now that Suguru’s done, Satoru feels much more nervous, knowing that there’s no one else to go before him anymore. Yuko had been successful in distracting him up until this point, but now there was no more distracting him. Choso gets the plastic on Suguru’s tattoo and cleans everything up before resetting to get ready for Satoru next. 

“It looks great, Sugu,” Satoru says, looking at the tattoo that now adorns the front of Suguru’s thigh. The skin is red and very visibly irritated having been poked at for two hours without much of a break. 

“I love it.” Suguru smiles, looking down at the two fish now on his leg and back to Satoru as he stands up from his spot on the couch. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Satoru replies shortly, nodding his head quickly. 

“Are you nervous now?” 

“Nope,” Satoru lies, and Suguru clocks it immediately, grabbing his hand.

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” He asks sweetly, able to feel the clamminess of his palm. Satoru doesn’t answer with anything but a quick nod, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He knows that the confident mask he’s put up isn’t fooling his husband anymore, and decides that he’d definitely feel better holding his hand, at least for a little while. 

“Do you want me to get his stencil on while you get prepped?” Yuko asks Choso as she heads over to the sink to wash her hands. 

“Only if you want to,” He replies softly, looking up at her with a gentle smile as he gathers everything to toss into the trash.

“I got you, babe,” She says, looking over her shoulder at him with a smile. 

He looks back up at her fondly. “Thank you,” he says softly. 

Alright, are we still putting this guy on your chest?” She asks as she pulls her gloves on. With the time that Suguru was getting tattooed, Satoru had picked out the size he wanted and told Yuko where he was planning on putting it. He nods his head, having been sure of where he wanted it since before they even planned on getting them done. “Perfect, so I’ll just have you take your shirt off and stand right here for me.” She points where she wants him to stand and gets a small razor out. 

Satoru pulls his shirt over his head and Suguru immediately whistles in response, putting a smile on everyone’s faces and earning a giggle from Yuko. “I know, I know. Don’t get too worked up now,” Satoru jokes with a wink as he tosses his shirt at him where he sits on the couch. The silver chain that Suguru had given him for his birthday still sits around his neck. There hadn’t been a day that he’d left the house without putting it on. Everytime Suguru saw him with it on, he smiled to himself, happy that he apparently had picked out  a good one that Satoru would like. 

As she does every step, Yuko explains what she’s doing, admittedly helping to calm Satoru’s nerves a bit. “Now I’m putting on the stencil, but if you don’t like it, we can move it as many times as you want, okay?” Satoru nods his head, watching as she carefully peels it off, leaving the purple lines on the pale skin of his chest, just above his heart. “Alright, go take a look in the mirror and see if you like that placement.”

He turns around and looks at it in the mirror, almost unable to believe that the fish he’d picked out were about to be on his skin forever, also matching his husband. He smiles to himself before turning around to get Suguru’s thoughts. “Look good?” He asks, already sure he knows that he’s going to agree.

“Perfect,” Suguru responds with a nod, mimicking Satoru’s response from earlier. 

“Great!” Yuko says with a smile as she sheds her gloves and tosses them into the trash. 

“You can just lie down where Suguru was and we’ll get started,” Choso says, getting everything reset and ready to go again. 

Suguru stands up from where he sits on the couch and walks over to stand at the end of the bed where Satoru’s head rests. “Do you still wanna hold my hand?” He asks. Choso finishes putting on his gloves and picks up his machine, ready to go. Satoru doesn’t answer, but instead just hangs his arm over the edge of the bed for Suguru to grab. 

“I’m just going to start with one line and see how you feel,” Choso says as the steady hum of the machine starts up again. Satoru nods his head and watches as he dips the needle into the ink. He stretches out the skin and pulls the first line of many while Satoru does his best to breathe carefully, not wanting to move too much and mess it up. Once he feels the sting of the needle in his skin, he lets his eyes fall closed as the air leaves his lungs. It’s not a great feeling, but definitely nothing to cry about. “Is that okay?” Choso asks, stopping for a moment for him to answer before starting again. 

Satoru nods his head with a smile, happy that it isn’t as bad as he started to worry it might turn out to be. “It’s fine,” he says, looking up to where Suguru stands over him, looking down with a smile. He leans over and presses a quick kiss to his lips before heading to sit back down on the couch. “Wait,” Satoru says quietly, not letting his grip on Suguru’s hand go just yet. “Can you just sit over here with me?” Choso doesn’t even notice his quiet words, too busy focusing on what he’s doing.

Suguru pulls up the closest chair and sits down, their fingers still entwined as Satoru lies there as still as he can be. He can tell when it hurts him a little bit more, because Satoru will squeeze his hand and his face will scrunch up. Cute, he would think silently to himself. “You’re doing so good, Toru,” he praised quietly, resting his chin at the edge of the bed next to Satoru’s ear. It immediately puts a smile on Satoru’s face and calms him down when he hears it, Suguru’s words helping to ground him and forget about the pain. 

After about 15 minutes, Satoru is finally used to it enough that he’s able to keep talking about anything and everything as usual. He talks about their new house, what living in Kamakura is like, he even talks about Shiro, which makes both Yuko and Choso perk up slightly. 

“Do you have any pictures of her?” Choso asks as he goes to dip the needle to get more ink. 

“I have an entire folder dedicated to her, actually,” Satoru says as he picks up his phone from where it lies next to him on the table. He pulls up one of his recent favorites of her sitting atop the new cat tree in the living room, looking up at him from in front of the window with a gorgeous sunset in the background. Her big blue eyes stand out against her bright white fur, much like Satoru’s own eyes and hair. Suguru smiles as he shows it to him first before he turns it around to show it to Choso who also smiles at it before continuing tattooing. Yuko sneaks up behind him to see it, curious to see her as well. 

“She’s so cute!” She says as she looks at the picture. It prompts her to pull out her own phone and show off their cat as well. “This is Koda.” She turns around her phone to show off a totally black cat, the complete opposite of Shiro. “He’s Choso’s baby,” she says as Satoru looks at the picture with a smile. “Ever since he was a kitten he’s loved him, and I can’t blame him.”

Choso smiles to himself and shakes his head at Yuko’s comment. “He loves you too, you know.” 

“Cho, he sleeps on your pillow when you’re gone and waits by the door for you to come home. I think it’s pretty easy to tell he’s got a favorite.” The smile remains on Choso’s face as he listens to her talk about their cat. 

With all the distractions, Satoru’s tattoo is finished before he even realizes it. His was slightly smaller than Suguru’s, so it took a little bit less time anyway, but it still felt like almost nothing in the grand scheme of things. When he feels the cold, wet paper towel wipe across his skin he lets out a soft, “ooh,” and lets his eyes close with the soothing feeling against the burning hot skin.

“Feels good, right?” Suguru says, knowing what comes next as he watches Choso pick up a dry paper towel. 

“Yeah it does- ah, shit. That does not feel good, though.” Satoru’s face screws up as the final dry paper towel drags across his fresh tattoo. Suguru chuckles and gives his hand a squeeze.

“Sorry…” Choso apologizes, knowing that it doesn’t feel good whatsoever. “Okay, you’re all good, you can go ahead and check it out in the mirror,” Choso says, rolling back and setting down the tattoo machine. Satoru sits up and waits for a moment, making sure he’s all good before he stands up and heads over to look at his chest in the mirror. 

“Woahhh,” He draws out, looking at it and turning back to look at Suguru with an open mouthed smile on his face. “This is amazing!” 

“I’m glad you like it,” Choso says with a soft smile, standing up from where he sits on the rolling stool. He grabs a piece of second skin and cuts it to size before lining it up and pressing it over the fresh tattoo to keep it safe. Satoru winces slightly at the feeling of his hands pressed up against the hot, irritated skin of his chest. He looks at it again in the mirror with a wide smile on his face, happy that it’s finally done.

“It looks really good, Cho,” Suguru says, looking at the work on Satoru’s skin. “Thanks a lot.”

“No problem,” He says in response, starting to clean up after himself. “You’ll have to come back now that we have the shop down here.” He and Yuko had been at a shop up in Morioka, which is where Suguru originally had his chest and shoulder tattoos done. Since he moved to Tokyo, he hadn’t got any new tattoos because they were still in Morioka, but they had moved down to Tokyo in the past year, so Suguru started thinking about if he wanted anything else done. 

“Yeah, definitely,” He says with a nod, watching as Satoru pulls his shirt back on. “Maybe I can convince this one to come back too.” Suguru gestures his head back towards Satoru with a smile. 

After they gather everything and head back downstairs, Suguru pays for both of their tattoos, insisting that it’s another birthday present for Satoru. “It was nice to meet you Satoru!” Yuko says, opening her arms for a hug as they’re ready to head out.

“It was nice to meet you too, Yuko,” Satoru says, hugging her with a smile. “We should all hang out sometime,” He has a smile on his face as he looks between Suguru Yuko, and Choso.

“Definitely!” She says with a wide smile on her face as she turns to look up at Choso who nods in response. 

“See you guys later,” Suguru says as they head towards the front door with a small wave. “Thanks again!” Satoru opens the door and they step back out into the chilly early January afternoon. The sun is hiding behind the clouds, keeping the temperature low. “So, how was it?” Suguru lets the door fall closed behind him as they start back down the sidewalk back towards the car. His hand finds its way into Satoru’s, their fingers lacing together and staying warm with each other’s body heat in the cold.

“Not bad!” Satoru says, giving Suguru’s hand a quick squeeze.

“Baby, you don’t have to lie to me, I know you were nervous,” Suguru says, turning to look at Satoru as they walk. “I felt how sweaty your hands were.”

“That was just because it was warm in there!” Satoru continues trying to put on his act of not being nervous. 

“Sure, and I’m guessing that’s why you were squeezing my hand extra hard when it hurt more, right?” Suguru teases, his other hand fidgeting with his keys in his pocket as they walk. “You don’t have to pretend, it’s over now.” Satoru shakes his head with a slight smile, happy that even though he’s adamant on saying that he wasn’t nervous, Suguru can see right through him. “So…” Suguru starts, seeing Satoru’s head turn to look at him. “Do you think you want another one?” 

Satoru smirks as they approach where Suguru’s car is parked. “If I say yes, can we stop for dinner and treats on the way home?” 

Suguru unlocks the car and they both climb in, happy to be out of the cold. “You don't have to say yes for that, baby,” Suguru says, turning on the car and leaning over to look at his husband with a smile. Satoru smiles back at him, also leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“I have the best husband ever,” Satoru says, resting his chin in his palm with a smile as Suguru turns up the heat. 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Satoru rolls his eyes playfully, leaning back into his seat and looking up at the ceiling of the car before turning to look back at Suguru. “How about we wait until this one heals and then I’ll see how I feel about another one, okay Suguboo?” 

Suguru looks at the road in front of him as he wraps the fingers of his right hand around the black leather wheel, letting his left hand rest where it normally does on Satoru’s thigh as he drives. He taps his fingers over his leg and subtly nods his head with a slight smile on his lips, thinking about the future possibilities. 

“Deal.”

chapter 8

[forgeline]

First look. We just gave our famous FN Camaro a slight makeover with a new set of GF3 wheels in preparation for the upcoming Optima Search for the Ultimate Street Car event at Sebring International Raceway. Our 1970 Chevrolet "FN Camaro"  was built by Smitty's Custom Automotive. It's powered by a 740whp Scoggins Dickey Parts Center Chevrolet Performance LT4 topped with a Harrop Performance TVS2650 supercharger mated to a Centerforce clutch, Bowler Performance Transmissions-prepped Tremec T56 transmission, and GearFX rear end and rides on Detroit Speed suspension, Motion Control Suspension coilovers, Baer brakes, Nankang CR-5 tires, and new 18x11/18x12 Forgeline GF3 wheels finished with Luxury Bronze centers & Brushed outers! See more at: https://www.forgeline.com/customer-gallery-forgeline/cgk2694

🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

[studio-dreamie]

chapter 12: a cautious cat

the two walk around the hectic yet unique streets of chinatown. renjun looks around and takes pictures of almost anything. it starts with the little flowers growing within the cement, to the red lamp lights that adorned the supermarkets, to the random old vintage car that was parked out on the street. damn this seems fun i should have been an art major fr , she thought to herself as she walks around taking the rowdy yet beautiful setting in. she keeps walking down at a normal pace until she sees a little rundown dumpling spot. she turns around to look at renjun who was still taking a picture of something, “OH MY GOD I SWEAR I SAW THAT SHOP ON TIKTOK,” she doesn’t give him time to respond, and beelined straight to the store. her words didn’t fully register until he finished taking the picture of what he was focusing on. he pays no mind and continues to search for the focus of his next photo. it wasn’t until after he looked over and saw her already with the dumplings she was talking about. he moves his body towards her direction brings the camera up to his face once again and instead of zooming on an inanimate object, he zoomed in towards her. he snaps the picture, as she is standing there, underneath a tree looking at dumplings with a smile. he doesn’t realize that he begins to smile and stare at the photo. he’s enamored, enamored at how bright she looks at just one small thing, how her pink lips curve up causing the small dimple to show, the sunlight through the crack of the leaves shining on her at the perfect angle. “HEY!” renjun jumps out of his admiring stage. “aren’t you going to eat some?” she says poking one and lifting it towards him even thought she was a few feet away from him. “dont eat them all !” he says walking up to her, she pouts jokingly, “maybe if you weren’t so slow”, she shoves the fork even closer. he can’t help but look at her and say “feed it to me”, her eyes widen just a little bit, “what?” she curses at herself as she feels her heart beating a bit faster, “my hands are full duh” he says in a cocky voice putting his hands up that hold his camera and phone.. not even sure why he asked her to, he could have put his phone in his pocket. no but what if someone stole it, yeah he was just being cautious, cautious he told himself.

prev//masterlist//next

pairing: renjun x fem!reader

synopsis: the ultimate college friend group that does not escape the trials of suffering, love, drama, and weed. join y/n and her friends as they go through their third year of college together, they have no idea what's going on or what they're doing, but isn't that the fun of it?

genre: social media au, college au, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, comedy, coming of age

taglist: @she-is-dreaming @wavesandkisses @jenobubbles @finnydraws @snflwrhaerecs4u @sexygrass @miniature-tragedy @sweetcandycum @fae-renjun @dinonuguaegi

[optimabatteries]

Incredible street cars on the road rally during OPTIMA’s 2023 Search for the Ultimate Street Car at VIRginia International Raceway

[gogglemouse]

"Distant Rain"

“Have you ever wondered What happens to all the poems people write? The poems they never let anyone else read? Perhaps they are Too private and personal

Perhaps they are just not good enough.

Perhaps the prospect of such a heartfelt expression being seen as clumsy shallow silly pretentious saccharine unoriginal sentimental trite boring overwrought obscure stupid pointless or simply embarrassing

is enough to give any aspiring poet good reason to hide their work from public view.

forever.

Naturally many poems are IMMEDIATELY DESTROYED. Burnt shredded flushed away Occasionally they are folded Into little squares And wedged under the corner of An unstable piece of furniture (So actually quite useful)

Others are hidden behind a loose brick or drainpipe or sealed into the back of an old alarm clock or put between the pages of AN OBSCURE BOOK that is unlikely to ever be opened.

someone might find them one day, BUT PROBABLY NOT The truth is that unread poetry Will almost always be just that. DOOMED to join a vast invisible river of waste that flows out of suburbia.

well Almost always.

On rare occasions, Some especially insistent pieces of writing will escape into a backyard or a laneway be blown along a roadside embankment and finally come to rest in a shopping center parking lot

as so many things do

It is here that something quite Remarkable takes place

two or more pieces of poetry drift toward each other through a strange force of attraction unknown to science and ever so slowly cling together to form a tiny, shapeless ball.

Left undisturbed, this ball gradually becomes larger and rounder as other free verses confessions secrets stray musings wishes and unsent love letters attach themselves one by one.

Such a ball creeps through the streets Like a tumbleweed for months even years

If it comes out only at night it has a good Chance of surviving traffic and children and through a slow rolling motion AVOIDS SNAILS (its number one predator)

At a certain size, it instinctively shelters from bad weather, unnoticed but otherwise roams the streets searching for scraps of forgotten thought and feeling.

Given time and luck the poetry ball becomes large HUGE ENORMOUS: A vast accumulation of papery bits That ultimately take to the air, levitating by The sheer force of so much unspoken emotion. It floats gently above suburban rooftops when everybody is asleep inspiring lonely dogs to bark in the middle of the night.

Sadly a big ball of paper no matter how large and buoyant, is still a fragile thing.

Sooner or LATER it will be surprised by a sudden gust of wind Beaten by driving rain and REDUCED in a matter of minutes to a billion soggy shreds.

One morning everyone will wake up to find a pulpy mess covering front lawns clogging up gutters and plastering car windscreens.

Traffic will be delayed children delighted adults baffled unable to figure out where it all came from

Stranger still Will be the Discovery that Every lump of Wet paper Contains various faded words pressed into accidental verse.

Barely visible but undeniably present To each reader they will whisper something different something joyful something sad truthful absurd hilarious profound and perfect No one will be able to explain the Strange feeling of weightlessness or the private smile that remains Long after the street sweepers have come and gone.” -Shaun Tan, Tales from Outer Suburbia

[dcbbw]

WIP Wednesday 5.3.23

Happy Hump Day, tumblrs! I feel as if I have been MIA for a hot minute, but as usual it’s life getting in the way. I’m adulting for a lot of folks in my life right now, which doesn’t leave much time for Robin and what she wants to do. Toss in a job search, a carpal tunnel flare-up, and a car accident (no injuries, cosmetic damage which requires more time (it gonna take effort and rental car set-up to  make my baby pretty again) and a deductible), and … yeah.

However, I am working as best I can on getting stories out of my head and onto the screen; not a lot of snippets but plenty of synopses below the cut if anyone is interested.

Gossip Girls (inspired by CFCW’s #YouGoGirl event): No way will I finish this story by May 4 (Star Wars Day, yay!), hence the “inspired by”.

Queen Riley of Cordonia is having a much-needed, long-awaited brunch with her girls Annabelle Parsons and Yu the Chinese Waitress. There’ll be virgin mimosas, reminiscing on how their friendships began, decent food, a Riam Riley-style breakdown of the Princes’ true parentage, and Riley the Single Mother dealing with three boys who have no idea of public decorum. TCW’s Princess Marguerite may or may not make an appearance.

Fingers: For #WorldWhiskeyDay, this is a compilation of PB characters with a common denominator using liquor to soothe hurts, douse anger, and celebrate milestones.

Waiting Room (#Not Choices):  Pop culture icon Jerry Springer and the woman behind the catalyst of the Civil Rights Movement, Carolyn Bryant died on the same day. What if the Ringmaster and the Architect found themselves alone in the afterlife’s waiting room and held a conversation while awaiting the ultimate judgement?

A/N: This story will deal with mature subject matter and may contain offensive language (racial slurs apropos of the time period). This may or may not be posted here on tumblr; expect appropriate tagging and warnings if it is.

Eat Pray Love (tentative title) This is an ambitious what-if where Riley leaves Cordonia after the latest attack by the Sons of Earth. With Drake. The King of Cordonia and his Queen prepare to battle a new foe who is determined to unseat them, and only one person can help them. But will they?

Untarnished Silver: A celebration of King Liam and 25 years of Rys rule by the country, it’s citizens, family, and friends.  

I also have other irons in the fire: Object of Affection, Chapter 6 of the DC AU series, The Poisoned Apple, UnRomance non-con, and possibly Thievery Corporation, the first chapter of Catch Me if You Can (a gang of art thieves matching wits with Interpol; #it’s choices), chapter 2 of Streets of New York, and chapter 2 of One Night Stand.

I do hope everyone is well, or at least making it through okay. Life can be hard and come at you fast. Take care of you, okay? Updates (if not full-blown chapters/stories) will be posted as they become available.

See you soon!

Tagging:  @jared2612​ @ao719​ @marietrinmimi​ @queenjilian​ @indiacater​ @kingliam2019​ @bebepac​ @liamxs-world​ @mom2000aggie​ @liamrhysstalker2020​ @neotericthemis​ @twinkleallnight​ @umccall71​ @superharriet​ @busywoman​ @gabesmommie1130​ @tessa-liam​ @beezm​ @gardeningourmet​ @lovingchoices14​ @mainstreetreader​ @angelasscribbles​ @lady-calypso​ @emkay512​ @princessleac1​ @charlotteg234​ @queenrileyrose​ @alj4890​ @yourfavaquarius111​ @motorcitymademadame​​ @queenmiarys​