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coffee-and-geto · 5 days ago

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“YOU WOULDN’T LIKE ME WHEN I’M HUNGRY!”

“Just warm? I thought you meant I was hot, hot.” “Hot, hot?” “Yeah, I guess I’m a handsome guy, am I not?” You snort. “And so full of yourself.”

pairing: werewolf! satoru gojo x f!reader | kinkoctober

summary: since you were kid, you’ve been friends with satoru gojo. having grown up in the same village, it’s perfectly normal to meet up, laugh in front of a campfire and reminisce about the good old days, isn’t it? not the place or the time to confess your true nature, hmm?

warnings: +18 only, smut, nsfw, childhood friends to lovers, both lived in a small village, firecamp mood, sex (p in v), fingering (f!receiving), doggy style, handjob, bredding kink, full moon, nipple play, dirty talk, talking about being parents, fluff, (if you wanna picture werewolf like it’s same as jacob in twilight).

wc: 3,568

“I’m a werewolf.”

Those words, whispered in the silent night — or almost silent. Unless you count the cicadas’ songs that break the inaudible, sacred stillness of the dark. Under a sky where stars shimmer and the village campfire is the main source of light, casting a fiery glow in Satoru's eyes as he looks at you.

The dry, earthy ground, the scent of pine trees, roasted marshmallows, and the laughter of other young villagers — all back for the famous autumn full moon.

And you, sitting beside your childhood friend — Satoru Gojo.

Who utters words you never thought you’d hear from him, whispered without a care about being overheard. His azure gaze fixed on yours, as though searching the depths of your soul for any reaction besides your obvious shock.

With his hands pressed against the dry ground, his long legs stretched out, his torso turned toward you — every ounce of his attention captivated by you and only you.

As it always has been, hasn’t it?

And out of all the things he could have confessed, this declaration is what passes through his lips, cutting short your laughter and turning it into a gasp.

Then nothing. Silence.

“You— Satoru, what?”

And oh, how he could have fallen for that little frown of yours, so confused, so lost, so utterly adorable.

But he doesn’t repeat his words. He just watches you, lips flat but eyes replacing the smile you knew so well. The glow of the flames licking the campfire’s wood casts orange hues across his face like a phantom’s shadow.

Swallowing hard at his lack of reaction, you glance around, disoriented — your village, your family, your friends, your neighbors. No one seems the least bit troubled, nor does it seem like they’re paying attention to your conversation.

“Sweetheart.”

The nickname makes your panicked heart swell, and Satoru gently anticipates your next move. His rough, warm hand rests over yours, silently asking you not to worry.

“I always thought you’d figure it out on your own one day,” he murmurs.

“What do you mean?” you reply, and he can’t help but chuckle — a low, rumbling sound that almost seems wolfish.

“All the stories since we were kids.” He pauses, giving you time to process. “Our parents told us, and it’s also the history of the village.”

“A story is just a story, Satoru.” You pull your hand from his and prepare to stand up.

Enough with the tasteless jokes.

“This isn’t funny.” And his little heart breaks, because he hates the annoyed tone you take, though he still tries to salvage the situation.

Why the hell did he blurt it out like that?

“Wait, sweetheart,” Satoru pleads, his voice low and husky. His large, warm hand gently catches yours, urging you to sit back down. But as you persist in pulling away, he ends up confessing in desperation, “Am I disgusting to you?”

This time, it’s not the night’s silence that overwhelms you but Satoru’s puppy-dog eyes. Like he’s afraid you’ll walk away from him forever.

“Disgusting? Satoru…” You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. “You know I hate your jokes, and—”

“I’m not lying.” He presses his hand desperately over yours, tugging slightly to make you sit down again. “Do you want me to show you?”

Your eyes widen. “Excuse me? Here? In front of everyone?”

“Everyone already knows. You’re the only one blind to it,” Satoru breathes, standing gracefully without ever letting go of your hand.

“What are you even talking about? And where are you taking me?” you protest, stiffening your legs so he won’t drag you away. But he only chuckles softly, turns toward you, and suddenly hoists you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes (yes, really — nothing more, nothing less).

Only a chuckle answers your protests as you weakly pound your fists against his perfectly sculpted back under his white t-shirt, hiding so much more beneath.

“Satoru fucking Gojo!”

“Hmm, so Satoru is gay and he fucks Gojo?” He bursts into laughter at his own joke, tightening his grip to keep you from falling as he carries you further into the forest of tall pines that have watched you both grow up.

Yet you persist, thrashing about to make him let go — but in vain.

He walks surprisingly fast, as if guided by some instinct, knowing exactly where he’s going. Or maybe he’s been here countless times when you weren’t around — or when you were asleep?

When he finally stops, Satoru carefully sets you down and presses his lips together to stifle his laughter at the sight of your disheveled hair and utterly defeated expression.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you turn your back on him, trying to fix your hair. Your gaze lands on the river running through the forest, its surface shimmering under the moonlight tonight.

Lips press a kiss to your cheek, and you shove Satoru away as he laughs, delighted by your tomato-red face.

“Stop it.” You punch his chest, though he doesn’t budge an inch.

It’s like hitting solid concrete — only slightly softer.

He takes advantage of your moment of confusion to step back and peel off his t-shirt, revealing his muscular chest, pale skin, and far-too-defined V-line.

Your eyes dart away from the sight he’s offering, one even the moon seems to embellish with its rays. But then the sound of a belt buckle clicking open makes your eyes widen.

“Satoru, don’t you dare—”

“Relax, I just don’t want to tear my clothes while transforming. How else am I supposed to get back home after?” He chuckles, giving you time to turn around and offer him some privacy.

You can feel his damned smirk, but you swallow down yet another sharp retort.

It’s always been like this with him. He’d tease you, you’d say you didn’t like it, and then chase him around while convincing yourself it wasn’t funny — ignoring the laughter that always bubbled in your chest.

At school, it was the same story. You were practically glued to each other, one always with the other. A constant war between two friends competing over anything and everything. Who would leave the haunted house first, who would blink first, or who could sleep without a nightlight after yet another story about the village’s werewolves.

Since you were kids, you hardly ever kept secrets from one another.

So why does this unpleasant sound of bones cracking and flesh tearing behind you feel both so new and so familiar?

Has Satoru always carried this secret within himself when you spent your evenings together watching movies? Had he tried to tell you, leaving hints for you to eventually uncover the truth?

All those times he managed to climb impossible places no ordinary human could, or when he walked past you and, with one sniff, could tell if you’d changed shampoo?

Or how he seemed to turn into your personal bodyguard at least once a month, and anyone who dared hurt you ended up with a broken limb?

Since middle school, he had always seemed more mature despite his jokester nature. And his physique — how drastically it had changed when he turned 18. If it hadn’t been for the Satoru you knew, you would never have guessed that back then, he was just a young adult.

And now in college, the two of you seemed like proper adults.

Real, young adults, still friends.

Even if kissing your friend on the cheek isn’t exactly common?

Even if sleeping in the same bed with nothing but cuddles and hugs isn’t normal?

Even if you’d both seen each other practically naked under the right circumstances without either of you daring to ogle the other?

A bark snaps you out of your thoughts, and you turn around with a start.

Standing before you is a massive wolf-dog with snow-white fur tinged with silvery hues, and cerulean blue eyes piercing through the forest's shadowy darkness.

You freeze in place, staring at the creature before you. It is both majestic and terrifying.

“Satoru?”

The white wolf barks and rushes toward you, affectionately nuzzling his nose against your stomach before moving up to lick your chin. If it weren’t for his sheer size, he might’ve been mistaken for a puppy.

A tender smile spreads across your lips, and you stroke Satoru’s head, his fur so soft and cool you can’t resist planting a small kiss on it.

“You’re gorgeous.” Another kiss on his snout earns a bark that sounds like joy. “And so cute, and so big, I’d hold you like a plushie all the time if I could.”

He lets out a soft growl against you, lifting his front paws to rest them on your shoulders. In the background, his bushy white tail wags happily.

You cup his face in your hands, noticing the glint of his sharp teeth as he opens his mouth slightly.

“You’re not scary,” you coo, kissing the top of his head, and he squeals in appreciation. “And you’re not disgusting at all, I swear.”

He barks happily once more before bounding away, running around wildly before stopping to howl at the moon.

The sound is so powerful that a shiver runs down your spine.

~~~~

Back in the village, Satoru is already back in his normal form, and you scream in terror when you find him standing completely naked in front of you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips before he puts on the clothes he had tossed onto a fallen tree trunk.

No one seems to notice that you’ve just witnessed a werewolf transformation. According to Satoru, it’s simply because you haven’t realized that nearly half the male population of the village shares the same condition.

On this full moon night, new werewolves are being initiated, others are transforming just for fun like Satoru (since it’s the only time he can do it freely without going mad for the rest of the month while waiting for the next full moon), while some are engaging in reproduction.

Because, as he tells you, a full moon means mating season for werewolves.

But tired of it all, you head back home, with Satoru following closely behind—where no one will return for quite some time.

You collapse onto your bed, immediately curling up under the blanket before scooting over to make space for Satoru.

He doesn’t waste any time.

He slides in beside you, wrapping his strong arms around you to warm you with his naturally higher-than-average body temperature.

“You’re going to be useful in the winter,” you giggle, closing your eyes with a smile, your back pressed firmly against Satoru’s warm chest.

“I’m pretty hot, huh?” he murmurs into your hair, placing a welcome kiss there. No need to wonder what he means anymore, right?

“Mh-hmm,” you hum. “Like a warm comforter.”

Satoru frowns. “Just warm? I thought you meant I was hot, hot.”

“Hot, hot?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m a handsome guy, am I not?”

You snort. “And so full of yourself.”

His embrace tightens around you, and he grazes his lips against the shell of your ear. “Am I?”

“Admit that you aren’t just hot in both ways,” you mutter.

“Because there is a third?” he asks, his breath tickling you.

“Don’t act innocent.”

He settles his head fully onto the pillow, the moonlight filtering through your window caressing his flawless face. “Never said I was.”

And he chuckles when you huff.

Then he returns to his original position, pulling you closer to his chest before gently running his hand along your forearm. His touch is warm, inviting, mischievous—yet affectionate, asking for nothing but a little more closeness.

You sigh, closing your eyes, slightly parting your lips as you let the back of your head rest against his neck.

He takes advantage of your vulnerable position, sliding his arm around your waist and closing any remaining space between you. His thumb traces slow, soft, patient circles over your stomach. Each motion makes you crave more.

So you shift slightly, freeing your torso to give him access to your neck, where his warm, steady breath teases your skin. He must feel it by now—the way your heart races in your chest, how your breathing grows quicker, shallower.

And Satoru, in his sly delight, doesn’t react more than you desire.

He simply lowers his nose to the hollow of your neck and shoulder, brushing his lips against your skin, resisting the primal urge to claim you as his. To mark you as his own.

So you move again, giving him full access to mark your bare neck or shoulder, your ass pressed firmly against him, wriggling just a bit to adjust—or perhaps not.

Satoru presses his lips together as he feels a surge and a quickening heartbeat in his pants, blood rushing to the area. Giving in, he sinks his mouth onto your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses, the wet, noisy sounds of his lips against your skin sending shivers of pleasure through you.

You press yourself impossibly closer to him, guiding one of his large hands to your breast. Your back arches so deliciously against him as he cups the soft mound in his palm.

Between the kisses that turn into hickeys along your trapezius and his hands kneading your breast, teasing your hard nipples, you reach for his other hand with a soft whimper and guide it under your shorts.

He doesn’t waste a second, his already warm hand finding its way to your already puffy clit. He rubs slow, torturous circles, spreading your wetness over it to make things easier. You are now reduced to shallow pants and lewd, adorable noises.

“F-Fuck, Toru,” you whisper, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“Let it go, sweetheart,” he murmurs, toying with your intimate area, using his middle finger to spread your lower lips and gently pat your drenched entrance, the tight little ring of resistance testing his patience. “Will you let me take care of you?”

You nod, your eyes fluttering shut as you moan his name again when he breaches the soft, wet resistance of your entrance. His middle finger slips inside you, gently parting your walls as he seeks out that one sweet spot that makes your toes curl.

When he finds it, he rubs it gently, drawing gasps from you while his forefinger plays with your clit, his other hand busy tugging and twisting your nipples under your shirt. He bites down on your neck, slurping your soft skin before pumping his finger into you.

“Feels good?” he asks in a hoarse voice. The sound of him like this — taking care of you while pressing his hardness against your ass — is almost as good as what he’s doing to your body. You squirm against him, relishing the way your movements draw a throb from his length. It feels like he’s about to cum in his pants.

“Such a tease, hmm? Didn’t know this side of you,” he whispers into your ear, sliding a second finger inside you. He thrusts both digits knuckle-deep, curling them perfectly.

You mewl, letting him feel your walls tightening and clenching around his fingers every time he brushes your sweet spot. The slick, wet sounds of your arousal make him groan — did you just throb?

“Close,” you warn, your body folding as the knot in your stomach tightens, teetering on the edge of release. You wince, struggling to control your shallow breaths as your orgasm approaches. “Please, Toru.”

“Cum, baby, cum,” he coaxes, his voice soft and encouraging as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you. His grip tightens on your breast, and his fingers work your clit with relentless precision.

A second later, you come undone, cumming hard on his fingers. Your walls spasm around them, coating them in your warm juices. You bury your face in the pillow, gasping for air as the pleasure courses through you.

Satoru carefully withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste you. “Hmm, tastes as good as I thought you would,” he hums.

“You thought?” you repeat, your voice feeble.

“I never said I was innocent,” he says, echoing his earlier words with a smirk.

“You thought about how I’d taste?” you ask, raising an eyebrow with a skeptical pout.

“Not exactly that dirty, but…” he presses a soft kiss to your temple, “Can you blame me?”

You chuckle softly, sliding your shorts and soaked panties off under the blanket, your thighs damp with sweat and slick. As you shift, Satoru pinches the soft flesh of your rear.

“Didn’t you say tonight was the werewolves’ breeding night?” you tease, a smirk playing on your lips. The mere sight makes him want to cum in his pants.

“Would you let me?”

“I’m just waiting for you,” you say, blowing out a breath.

At those words, he wastes no time, undoing his belt and sliding his pants and boxers down. A damp spot betrays how hard and ready he is, his tip already leaking.

You reach out, wrapping your hand around his flushed, twitching length. It jumps slightly as you stroke him gently, a naughty smile playing on your lips — a sight that nearly drives him wild. You lower your head, giving him a perfect view of your bare ass as you tease him.

Each stroke of your hand makes him bite his lip harder, suppressing a moan. He’s trying to stay composed — he’s a man, after all.

But when you guide his shaft to your swollen lips, rubbing his reddened tip back and forth against your slick entrance, it nearly breaks him. You coat his mushroom tip with your cum, then press it against your tight, dripping hole.

Satoru exhales a trembling sigh, gripping your hips as if to ground himself. His fingers tighten, promising marks that will bloom later on your skin.

“Lemme fuck you, please, sweetheart,” he groans, his voice desperate as he struggles not to buck his hips into you.

And you smile. Such a naughty girl.

You sit up, slipping off your top to feel freer, and then position yourself on all fours, lifting your hips to give him full access to your dripping pussy, which aches to be filled.

You giggle softly, wiggling your hips, burying your face into the pillow.

Satoru takes it as an invitation. He positions himself at your entrance, stroking himself a few times before sliding into you. The stretch is delicious, like something out of a dream.

Your whimpers fill the room, rising into melodic, lewd moans — music to his ears.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Satoru hisses, gripping your hips to pull you closer, sliding his cock all the way inside until his tip kisses your womb. When he bottoms out, he knows it.

Even though he’s on the verge of cumming, Satoru wants to make sure you cum with him — to breed you thoroughly. His babies. Making you a mom.

The thought makes his thrusts gentle at first, letting you adjust to his size. But when you push your hips back and babble for him to fuck you for real…

He snaps.

He’s pounding into you, his heavy balls slapping against your clit, adding to the obscene wet sounds filling the room. Your ass meets his hips again and again, your walls gripping him tighter each time he withdraws, only to pull him back in harder.

It’s not just your bodies syncing but your hearts too. Breathless pants, gasps, pleading moans, and filthy whispers intertwine, creating something sacred between you.

“Toru, ah, please, deeper,” you whine, your hands gripping the sheets as he fucks you so perfectly.

“Deeper?” he repeats, his voice teasing as he grabs your hair gently, pulling your head back to arch your spine. It gives him even better access to the sweet spot he intends to flood with his seed. “You want me to be a daddy? And you a mommy? Cute little werewolf babies?”

“Fuck,” you moan, clenching tighter around him. “I want it. I want to be full of your cum and have babies.”

“So good, so tight,” he groans, his thrusts relentless. “Promise. You’re mine, remember?” But your nod isn’t enough for him. “Say it, sweetheart.”

“I’m yours, I’m all yours, Toru,” you sob, tears streaming as you teeter on the edge. “I-I’m close,” you babble, your hips moving in tandem with his.

Satoru leans over you, his chest pressing against your arched back. His cock twitches as he growls, “Gonna take my load? Gonna cum so fucking much, yeah?”

One final thrust sends you both spiraling.

You cum hard, clenching so tightly around him that it’s a miracle his length fits inside you. He fills you with his warm seed, so much that it spills out in thick spurts.

Heartbeats pounding, breaths ragged, Satoru softens inside you, slowly pulling out. He kneels to watch the mix of your juices and his spill from your stretched hole.

He slides two fingers back in, gently pushing his seed back inside. “Need it to stay here,” he murmurs, patting your ass and pressing a kiss to your back. “Wanna go back to the village later?” Satoru asks.

You shake your head. “Just stay with me. With the future mother of your children.”

“Hmm, I think I can get used to this. Or maybe ‘wife’ is a better title?” He collapses beside you, a tired but peaceful smile on his face.

“Husband too,” you whisper, your voice filled with warmth.

a/n: thank you guys to have read this silly fic <3 on my period rn and it sucks but anyway. lot of tests coming so i think the stress is the reason haha. this time i don’t have a lot to say, just that writing about satoru is the best thing lol. some memes about wolves come to my mind i just wanna add them somewhere lmao

like and reblogs are always appreciated as comments <33

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @elliesndg

@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar

@monokaix

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bambiesfics · 1 year ago

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⊹ Tag! you’re it. ⊹

(5k wc!)

| SNEAK PEEK: “Fuck me. Almost forgot about her.” The brunette unslung the rifle over her shoulder and head. She threw it a small distance away from you two. The black Nula rifle skidded amongst the twigs, then stopped. You breathed a small sigh of relief amidst your mounting panic. Releasing the terror that it could go off while she fucked herself into you.

⊹ SUMMARY: The concept was simple really. It’s quite literally in the title of this fic. I’m sure you’re smart, reader. So I’m also sure you can deduce what she’s going to make you do. But in the rare chance you’re not that bright, I’ll help and spell it out for you.

You…need…to…run.

⊹ WARNINGS: Predator/prey kink. Strap-on use (reader receiving). Outdoor sex, very rough sex, mean as fuck!Dom Ellie, dacryphilia, ass-smacking, black-out, use of “cock” and “dick” and is referred to as Ellie’s, and other things you’ll have to read to see.

⊹ AUTHOR’S NOTE: Minors & puritans this is not the fic for you. Everyone else: make sure you read this at home. This is genuinely, not safe for work (or school!)

The truck skidded to a stop.

The acridness of burnt rubber twisted its way up your nose, reflexively making you scrunch. The russet haired brunette pulled the keys out of the ignition and slammed the truck's door shut. Her black converses made imprints onto the soft earth.

They were just a few of the many tracks to come.

The slam of the GMC door was like a boom in your head, yelling ‘WAKE UP!’

Laid beyond the car window was a terrifying picture of nature. The forest seemed like rows of shark’s teeth; jagged and everlong. Up along the bank, a crowded family of dark green spruce trees were huddled. Mottled like flecks against the horizon. Nothing could be seen but the green overlaid on top of the clear sky. The trees circumferenced along the bank like a protective dome, surrounding the truck.

This was her idea.

The brunette circled the clearing, her bangs blew softly in the wind. She fixed the M-11 sniper across her back, pulling the dual tabs of her corset webbing to tighten it to her torso. The NULA sniper was heavy. A matte black gun with a wide eyed scope. It was Ellie’s favorite. For hunting; both people and game.

Your girlfriend had known for several years that she’d never be a fan of small firearms. She reveled in the kickback of a sniper.

Firearms.

Running.

Rifle.

Chasing.

Polaroids of memory flooded your thoughts. Snapshots of Ellie pleading relentlessly to convince you to let her use you. Use your adrenaline and terror to scratch a deep deep itch within her. Like a flea ridden dog, your girlfriend had a parasite. And the parasite was the chase. It was a primal itch. One that’d been there since she was a younger girl. It teased along the blurred edges of sociopathy and sexuality.

If you’d really paid attention, you would’ve noticed that Ellie was a little…off. There was an aggression that ran congruent with her boyish teasing and fighting. An intuitive itch at the back of your brain often concluded that Ellie had always wanted to bend your arm back a little bit deeper during play fights. Because she too often enjoyed how quickly your laugh crumpled into yelps.

She’d let out a sudden chuckle during really tense moments, but you were subtly aware that Ellie could, and slyly tried, to get a bit more intense with the floor pinning, with the wall traps, with her power plays. And you suspected she liked it.

Ellie was an awe-inspiring girlfriend, so caring and so sweet; so tender. But you still couldn’t gauge where that hidden characteristic in her temperament came from.

Just how far would she really want to take it?

The surface tension of those memories rippled into obscurity like disturbed water. Leaving you to face the bitter nip of the cool air, and the earthy pine notes that carried itself on the wind.

Ellie had been spending her time studying you from across the distance. Trying to pick apart your thoughts from your micro-expressions. She debated on if the little crease between your brow was tense fear, or if it was exhaustion. Common sense advised her that it was exhaustion; you two had only come out here just an hour after dawn, naturally you’d feel drowsy or irate.

And that pleased her.

Tired would work in her favor. Tired would make you sloppy.

Ellie stepped deeper into the clearing. From your position in the passenger seat, you could see her attempt to feel for the direction of the wind, noting which direction it was blowing her hair. She used the sweep of the wind’s blow on her hair to navigate the direction of which path, in the dense forest, would give her the least resistance.

She planned to avoid that path.

She didn’t want this to be easy.

She didn’t speak. She didn’t have too. Ellie turned around slowly and rooted her feet into the soil. In spite of the distance, her gaze was piercing. She didn’t need to shout, but it was finally time to remove yourself from the safety of the truck.

You steadied yourself on the inside of the door, and used the pane to brace your knees before you dropped from out of the truck.

The sun was a high, white gold. Planting an opalescent sheen on the forest underbrush. It grew brighter and warmer the further behind you left the truck.

Towering above the underbrush, were thick alpine trees; the young and the old. Some of them were beyond being old, and were solidly antiquated. Likely as old as the entire forest itself.

Those alpines were the type of old that’d existed in that forest longer than Jackson town. The type of trees that had seen things not a soul nor an eye would have witnessed. Things, no history book had dared to make a record of.

And today, they saw you.

The sun was shining in her eyes. And she returned back to it her own venomous gaze.

Ellie’s ink moth tattoo moved each time her fingers steadied themselves on the bony juts of her hips. Her evergreen eyes blinked back down to study you once more.

In your timid mannerisms she microdosed on the pleasure of the run to come.

Your back straightened at her voice.

“To set this off, I ran the path six times since last sunday. Shouldn’t take you no longer than ten minutes, fifteen at your slowest. You take twenty minutes, and I come looking for you. Got that?”

Her eyes thinned, then relaxed.

“We’ve done similar patrols around the west wing of Jackson.”

“Like the group patrols and stuff right?”

Your answer was less than stellar.

She itched to grin at your reply, but killed it. Schooling her features back into a placid poker face. “Yeah sure. Those’ll definitely prepare you for today.”

Ellie started stalking behind you now. Eyeing the shoes you chose, how you shifted your weight from leg to leg, how your sleeves were longer than your fingers, and how your fingers fidgeted with its hem.

She pulled back from you. She pressed herself deeper into the gray and dull overcast from the trees. Shadowed by their height and mass, she shouted.

“You get a 120 second head start!”

The air was electric, like power lines running above you. Your fingers twitched, and your stomach tightened. And like a firing gun shooting into the air, she growled.

“RUN!”

Your feet pounded at the earth as your skin braced the whipping wind. Jackson’s forest was miles upon piles of jade. It was a claustrophobic cornucopia of trees. The underbrush scraped your legs with each step you took on the illuminated path of the forest floor. Light speckled from the patterned leaves above you, it looked like a kaleidoscopic.

The earth beneath your shoes was beaten flat from the steps of hikers and runners long before you ever came sprinting down. You’d hiked this path, but hiking and sprinting were light years apart. And the staggering imbalance of the terrain was sending shock waves up your legs. You braced it, a mantra looping in your head like your very life depended on.

Just run.

Your breaths were starting to sound heavier and heavier. Worsened by the regret that was creeping up all the same. Jackson had a system of 5am running patrols that were outlined by Maria on the town’s bulletin. Patrols that you could’ve put your name down for. Ellie did them often, just a short lap around Jacksons gates. She always told you it was only “15 minutes tops”, yet you always regarded that time as an extra 15 minutes to sleep in. Realization dawned on you just as quick as your feet turned around a large spruce tree.

That 15 minutes of running truly did add up.

Just run.

A climbing crescendo of snapped twigs and rustling leaves was all that could be heard whipping about. Louder and louder. Heavier and heavier. An orchestra of sounds; of your heartbeat. Of a burning pain from a persons forceful sprint. Someone was panting, fighting, clawing their way out of Jackson’s forest. You were the someone, but your legs were growing tired.

Your calves were burning as your pace increased, the ache was clawing into the muscles in your lower legs like hot iron. The pain bloomed into your thighs and coiled itself into the pit of your lower belly. It left your breath wheezing and dry.

Sweat broke out on your hairline. Perspiration that would drip down to sting your eyes if you didn’t get home in time. You needed to get home fast. Just as long as you got there before her. Just as long as you beat Ellie to Jackson’s gates, you’d be fine.

All you could do was just run.

You slowed to a stop and cleared a log, you straddled it, holding the large body to steady yourself, before swinging your leg off and hopping back onto the ground. You weren’t nimble. Your girlfriend would’ve cleared the trunk with just the push of her left arm. But you were desperate, anything to not be her prey.

Just run.

Your ears picked up on it, before your brain could process it. The sound was unmistakable. Those were Ellie’s footsteps.

Clearing the log had closed the space between you. This chase was a burning thread. Growing shorter as the distance between you two also grew shorter. Ellies footsteps sounded heavier, more hurried. She could finally hear you too.

You pushed past the haze of pain and ran out of the forest, onto the rocky asphalt in front of the abandoned highway. You slid down the ditch, scraping your palms along before tumbling into a shaky sprint. The abandoned cars in the ditch were as much obstacles as they were protection. But up ahead, growing bigger with every step, were the gates; pillars of protection and strength.

The same voice whispered sharply into your concious, reminding you to

just run.

The only caveat was that Ellie’s conscience was telling her the

exact same thing.

She was behind you. But you couldn’t care where or how far Ellie was. You’d deduced that the strewn jagged pebbles had slowed her down. Converses didn’t work nearly as well on rocky terrain. The rhombus sole could tightly pack gravel and pebbles inside of it, which made for an uneven run.

Jackson’s steep wood gates appeared even larger. A good — no — a great thing. To be dwarfed by Jackson’s gates meant that you were near them. Nearer to the town than you had been a mere minute ago; yet again, still with no Ellie in tow.

You relaxed your sprint into a cursory jog. The relief that coursed through you was electrifying. A tired grin threatened to leap off your face. You were burning, but the chase wasn’t nearly as hard as you had suspected it to be, and for that your nervous system was flooded with relief.

You were so close. Just a few more steps and the lap would be cleared.

Ellie shouldn’t have given you that head start. Jesus, that girl could be so arrogant.

The dual gates were close enough to feel their shade. You took another deep breath, and stretched your arms out. The breeze cooled your skin. The relief from the concluded chase blew a spirit of new life into you. You were done! you had won Ellie’s sick little game of tag.

Now, what you would give to head down to the tavern and ask for a mug of sweet tea and some soft brea—

—Ellie slammed into you, crumpling you to the ground. A tiny yelp ripped out of you like a pathetic puppy. She dug her elbow into the small of your back to put you down, before switching tactics. She instead chose to slide her hand up and grip the back of your neck. She shoved your face into the ground. Holding you down in submission.

“Tag. you’re it.” She giggled.

Your shocked scream was muffled by the ground. Like some hunted doe, only your eyes could communicate. And they strained painfully to the right, hoping to see what the hunter was doing. The pain in the base of your spine ebbed as Ellie removed the puncture of her left knee from your back. She dropped into a crouch. But her hands slid down your back, then down your thighs, then to your knees where she gripped the sides of the joints and forcefully shoved them apart.

In the quiet of the dawn, you were more than a sight to see. You were a picture of desire to drink in, and a terrifying desperation possessed Ellie.

You should’ve ran faster.

Ellie inched all ten knuckles under the band of your jeans, she struggled to shove down your pants and underwear, grunting curses under her breath.

“No way in hell you were convinced you actually had a chance to win against me. I don’t think you realize how much I had to hold myself back. Couldn't let it be that easy for myself.”

Your breath came out ragged.

Ellie loved that.

She barely managed to shove the waist of your pants underneath the crease of your ass cheeks. But seeing as what she managed left her with just the necessary amount of space she needed to work with, it was certainly good enough.

“Honest question.” She paused for a moment and surveyed you. Her hand curled in the air “just to get this straight, were you jogging the entire lap or were you actually sprinting it? I just couldn’t tell.” She mocked.

The sneer her lips curled into was wicked.

But her violence even moreso.

Ellie slapped your ass harshly, intently drinking in the recoil. You yelped and jerked across the dirt. She lunged across to clamp the back of your neck, eyes piercing.

“Stay.”

The sound of a zipper being pulled down made you struggle in her grasp. Your head was scrambling from side to side to better see her. Picking up strewn leaves to tickle the bottom of your lips.

Ellie was having none of it. The fist on your neck squeezed tighter.

She tsk’d next to your ear, your first and now your final warning. She refused to repeat herself a second time.

If only you could’ve seen what she saw. Ass up, face down, bent like some bitch in heat. You were presenting yourself. Your left cheek was squished against the grass and leaves. And your ass was tempting and teasing itself in her face, globes split apart.

God, you didn’t know, but you’d looked so pathetic. Like you were just waiting to be topped. And if that was what you really wanted, then who was Ellie to deny you that?

A wicked grin bloomed onto her face, replacing the sneer.

One phrase boomed in her head.

…my bitch.

Ellie’s.

You were made to be Ellie’s bitch.

Ellie pulled out the harnessed cock, it had a real fat, girthy shaft. With a long vein running along the underside. She drooled at the fantasy of how it’d tug against your tight rim. She slid the dick atop the split of your ass cheeks. Rutting it up and down. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but she swore she saw you roll your hips onto it.

“Fuck me. Almost forgot about her.” The brunette unslung the rifle over her shoulder and head. She threw it a small distance away from you two. The black rifle skidded amongst the twigs, then stopped. You breathed a small sigh of relief amidst your mounting panic. Releasing the terror that it could go off while she fucked herself into you.

Holding her dick against your ass really let her hips take a break from the weight of it. You were such a good doe, letting her warm it between the globes of your ass cheeks. Taking her thumb and forefinger, Ellie angled her tip down, She gave shallow thrusts, reveling in the wet slide of her cock against your labia. She just needed a few more ruts against the slick, to get it as wet as she wanted.

Nimble as ever, the hunter slightly leaned back onto her calves. The bulbous tip of her cock inched back and dragged itself down the expanse of your labia, from clit to hole. Until it caught against the rim of your hole. It barely nudged inside. But the feeling of the tip pressing against it, reflexively made your hole clench a kiss on its head. Ellie whistled at the scene.

Heaven on earth is what this was to her.

“Would you look at that? You want it huh? Can tell by how you’re sucking it in.”

It turned Ellie on so much, seeing her dick just barely touch your hole, just prolonging what you both knew was to come. She was feeling a little violent again, so Ellie cracked another sharp slap on the meat of your ass. The heat and twinge from it, made your eyes widen. A blistering handprint was left where she slapped you. Tears started burning at the back of your eyes and you gasped in a panic. Your reactive jerk from her smack, involuntarily slipped the first inch of her cock into your hole. Your slick coated just the head. Wetness was slowly starting to slip down your walls. And it dripped past the seal of your vagina and coated the top of Ellie’s tip.

Not even pornography could compare; because to the eyes of anyone who could see, the scene between you and her was in every sense of the word: obscene.

You struggled against the grass again. Giving her a beautiful performance of a hunt gone well. Doe-eyed prey shaking fitfully against the grass. Ellie’s intimidating presence dwarfed everything in its path like a dark shadow.

She draped her chest over your back and laid her cheek to rest atop your planted head. Ellie slowly lined up her freckled lips with your ears. It could’ve almost looked like a caress; a sleepy embrace between two lovers. Where one whispered ‘good morning, you up honey?’, and the other grumbled lowly ‘mhm. Just 5 more minutes my love.’

But nothing that came out of her mouth was sweet.

Ellie whispered very lowly.

“I’m begging you—to try to fight me off.”

And with that, and a ghost of a kiss to the shell of your ear; Ellie thrusted the shaft inside, groaning her own pleasure over the shout you yelped into the ground. A sudden intrusion, as alarming as that was, could only be described as malice.

She slowly pumped in more inches of her cock until she felt a strong resistance. She kept testing it, pounding sharp pumps to see if there would be any further give. Each attempt pulled a muffled “n’moh it won’ fit phleese” out of you.

You dug into the grass.

Ellie’s beautiful features transformed into a quizzical frown. Her bushy eyebrows, her full pink lips, and her usually cherubic cheeks, wrinkled in to display a strong feeling of ... .disappointment. There were at least a few inches left of her hungry cock that weren’t warmed inside that slick tight pussy hole.

Why couldn’t you take all of it?

She furrowed her brows, dug her nails tightly into the fat of your hips, and hurriedly bullied her girthy cock into you. She couldn’t help but revel in the way each thrust pulled a yelp out of you like a kicked bitch.

Maybe those weren’t yelps from your lips, but instead muffled moans….

Ellie couldn’t really tell, and regardless, she definitely didn’t care.

Her thrusts were heavy, punchy. There was no space to spare inside of you. Her shaft was molding your hole to fit around its thickness. The cockhead squished against your cervix, pulling a new type of soreness with each pull of it.

“Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! Uhn!”

You drooled on the grass. You took the rhythmic pounding up your abused cunt. Your puffy cervix was leaving wet kisses on the tip of Ellie’s dick, which pulled even more slick from the tiny donut.

“That’s right. Uhn! Uhn! Uhnn! for me baby. Cry just like that. You like being tackled and fucked rough don’t you? Sloppy cunt.”

She mocked.

She was right, it was so sloppy. Your walls were practically drooling along her shaft; and trust her, she could feel it.

Ellie slowly pulled her cock out, only to marvel upon the gorgeous coating of slick that sparkled in the early sunlight. Your milk had pooled along the veins and ridges of her shaft.

There was a creamy mousse ring that wrapped around the base of her balls, frothing from the thrusts.

Ellie had a perverted temptation to taste a bit of that milky coating. The thing was, it wasn’t new to her, she’d gotten a taste of it many times before.

Chuckling to herself, she slid it back in. But with complete knowledge of how intensely full you’d feel, Ellie leaned down to drape her chest across your back once more.

She positioned her torso atop yours, digging her fingers into the dirt on either side of your head to get a solid grip. Dried leaves and grit collected under her fingernails and painted them specks of amber and brown. Her sweaty bangs were sticking to her face now. And they curved around her hairline as she barked a laugh at each rough pounding you took, like her sweet girl.

“So fucking—”

Thrust.

“Fun”

Thrust.

“Watc-hing you—”

Thrust.

Her voice cracked, pounding you was bumping her swollen clit just right.

“Run like.”

Thrust.

“Some weak little prey.”

She replaced her grip in the dirt with finding purchase on top of your hands. She slid her fingers in between yours and interlocked them. She squeezed your fingers between her own, you weakly squeezed hers back. The hunter above you, found just the right footing to put her full body weight into fucking you, and now you felt the stretch and fullness everywhere, everywhere.

No space inside of you was spared.

Who knew hunters could be so mean?

“You feel that? Is it stretching? I wanna know if it burns.” She gruffed.

Yes, yes, and yes. A weepy eyed ‘yes’ to all three.

All you could feel was her. Her cock was nudging past the sensitive swell of your g-spot, bruising the area with her pounding.

How could you not feel it?

Every ridge of her dick pulled muted squeals out of you. And despite how much your neglected clit cried for attention and touch from between its sloppy lips, there was a fiercely intense pleasure that radiated around your body. And the evidence was the strings of glossy slick drooled onto the grass patch below you two. The same slick ran down the underhaft of her cock as she pumped inside you, and collected at the base of her heavy balls. Balls that were building a bruise on your ass, with each stinging connect of her hips to your butt.

Ellie’s sighs and moans were pitching a variation of high and low tones. Huffing like a dog in heat because of how good it felt to be inside of you.

God, the strap was fucking her back. Her brain was growing fuzzy, heavy, needy.

Catching her prey to fuck it, had her mind unraveling.

Who was the bitch now?

“H-hey.” She breathed out

“Your sloppy hole feels s’good. Tiny, tiny pussy clamping on my cock. You making me work for it baby? Work hard to fu— fuck inside of you.”

She screwed her eyes shut. The intensity grew stronger.

“I’ll work as hard as I need to stu-stuff your sloppy holes” she slurred. Her green irises rolled to the back of her head.

Ellie’s grip on top of your hand considerably tightened, which had seemed almost impossible, given their already iron lock.

Ellie rolled her pale hips in shallow circles, grinding inside of you. The friction against your g-spot was dizzying, and from where your nose was shoved in the grass, you grew lightheaded.

As Ellie’s cock made your walls plump and swell, Your vision was slowly growing spotty. Little black dots were dancing across the expanse of your vision. It was unfortunate how little you could breathe, because the barks of pain and whimpers of pleasure that you wanted to release would’ve made Ellie cum on the spot right then.

“Love your pretty pussy. It’s pretty, it’s all mine. All for me. Tiny hole that I get to stuff full of dick—wanna chase and stuff you every day. I wanna be the only one in-inside you. Does my dick hurt your tummy? Want it to hurt you so good. Sorry, m’sorry, but I-I want it to hurt so good.”

Ellie was frantic and erratic. Fever brained and pussy drunk beyond the horizon. She sloppily slurred all her little fantasies in your ear.

The edges of your vision were graying out, your eyes glazed. If Ellie had noticed, she didn’t care.

Instead she obsessed herself with the way she was molding a home for her thick cock in your puffy walls. The same walls were puffy and deep pink inside.

Each thrust from her slender hips was like a zing that dragged pleasure down the ribbed walls. Pressure was building up severely in your tummy, and you were overcome with a strong urge to clamp.

You choked your last whimpering moan into the dirt, and finally let the tension go. Slick milky cum seeped from the seal of your sensitive hole and burst onto the base of her dick. It was frothing and glossy.

Your eyelids grew suddenly heavy. Your vision was tunneling, there was a gray and fuzzy halo around it that obstructed its clarity. You could only make out blurry shapes and colors, only the soft light of the day, just before you relaxed and sleepily went limp.

You had been fucked into a heavy slumber, yet your lower half was still being held up by the girl with the cock inside of you.

She didn’t let up.

Ellie kept fucking you. Frantic and greedy for her own orgasm in your pussy. She needed to be inside of it just a little longer.

She picked up her pace, relishing in the sweet feel of the cockbase smacking her clit. Ellie felt the same pressure in her own vagina rising. Her clit was just as swollen, just as puffy, just as wet and glossy as your hole was on the inside. And Ellie sought a few more angry thrusts to get her over the edge. She snapped her hips forward, and each time you jerked forward in the grass, with your lips forming an “o” and your eyes gently closed.

Thrust.

“Fuck!”

Thrust.

“Please please please.”

Thrust.

“—Prett-pretty my pretty pussy all mine.”

Thrust.

“Sososo tight.”

Thrust.

“Ughhhh!…”

A groan grizzled from her throat.

Ellie squirted spurts of her release down her thighs. Her eyeballs rolled backwards until they were white and veiny, and her hips stuttered with each squirt.

She came all over her skinny jeans.

Her chest rose and fell dramatically as she sucked in deep gulps of air. Ellie’s toned abs contracted with her breathing, clenching and relaxing. Over and over did the muscles dance until her breathing slowly steadied itself.

The hunter pulled out of you and tucked herself back inside her jeans. She barely zipped her pants up, leaving the slick base of her veiny dick still visible to the world’s eyes. She couldn't find it within herself to care, not even a tiny bit.

The NULA rifle was strewn amongst the grass, and its owner walked the short distance to pick it up from the grass. She picked it clean. Wiping the dirt off of it, and blowing off the stuck grass. She stationed the NULA by her hip again, and walked back towards your limp body.

Crescent moon sharpie doodles were scribbled onto the dirty toe box of her converses. The doodles you’d drawn for her one frigid October evening, an entire calendar year ago.

Ellie had found that so endearing, but even then she had been too shy to admit it at the time.

She surely wasn’t shy now.

Despite the fact that her preferred celestial body was still stars, she still held your insistence on decorating her shoes, near and dear to her heart. It had been one of those slow and scary, ‘I think I’m falling in love with you’ moments, that had pivoted the direction of your relationship, unbeknownst to either of you.

Ellie took those same converses and nudged your shoulder. Several times in fact.

In your deep slumber, your body had only moved with the motion of her foot.

A whistle twinkled from her pout.

“….And you’re out cold.”

She reached for your arm “okay come on—get up.” And slung you over her shoulder. It was awkward, it wasn’t easy. The sniper wanted about as much space on Ellie’s slender frame as you did. But she had to make it work. Better than patrollers finding you in the grass with your ass split wide open and your pussy dripping slick like a snail. So she dragged her feet as she carried you, and held the gun parallel to her body.

But she managed to make it work.

She managed all the way to the gates. where she slipped through the back. Your privacy was something she could never risk, no matter how much she reveled in this game.

She managed into Jackson town.

And then into her house, and then into her room, and then into her bed where she tucked you under the covers, so you could sleep the adrenaline and full body orgasm off.

The lull in her messy room was quiet.

It felt like no more than a warm hub, for you and your bold lover. Ellie was tired to her bones, but she worked on the keys of her guitar as you slept.

You’d mewled in your sleep from time to time. And she felt slightly guilty, slightly. She knew you’d wake up just fine. With a bad limp and maybe an attitude to last the day, but still mostly fine.

Ellie dropped her chin onto the guitar, and rolled herself back and forth in her chair.

She mulled over it in her mind, how it’d be kinder of her to just…pull back from time to time. Just so you weren’t wincing in your sleep from the ache. But then she pouted; unsure of herself.

Didn’t you like it when she was mean?

She plucked a key, F major, then B minor. A momentary pause, before her nails hesitantly strummed the strings. They still didn’t sound right. So she tuned them again.

She broke her gaze away from the strings to briefly check on you. You were a sniffling lump underneath her sky blue sheets.

Her chest squeezed at the image.

She knew it was sappy, it was lame. It was the feeling of impassioned affection; of love.

“I know you’ll love this one, whenever you decide to wake up…dork.” She teased.

Ellie strummed the string once again, meditating on the key. She cleared her throat, and whisper-sung her favorite part.

“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can’t help…” she sucked in a breath, and her cheeks dusted pink. Embarrassed even with no one to bare witness. But this song had best encompassed the ocean of her feelings.

“…Falling in love with you.”

She dropped her head against the body of her guitar.

And smiled into it.

-fin-

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bonefall · 1 year ago

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Now I'm curious, I need to know how many bloodlines are dead, like Bluestar's is just tragic

WELL, it's a question without a straight answer. Bluestar's bloodline isn't "dead" but it's not "alive" either. It's a secret third thing. I'm calling it Schrodinger's Bloodline in my head.

In RiverClan, ShadowClan, and WindClan, there's a "missing generation" gap in-between TPB and TNP where a ton of "Orphan Warriors" suddenly appear. For a series that's hypothetically supposed to have legacy as a major theme, in practice, only ThunderClan is allowed to remember their grandparents lmao. So that means that Reedwhisker COULD have had children... but we don't know.

The only direct lines that cross that Missing Generation Gap we have tracked outside of Thunder and Sky are;

The Palebird Line (Tallstar, Onestar, Heathertail)

The Hickorynose Line (Deadfoot, Sorrelshine, Whitetail. Completely absorbed by the Palebird line)

The Scorchwind Line (Rowanstar)

So, any other non-ThunderClan family tree that you can think of is "gone", or more accurately, in the Schrodinger's Bloodline box. Yellowfang's entire family is gone. Blackstar's family is gone. Crookedstar's family is gone.

The TRULY DEAD lines in Warrior Cats are within SkyClan and ThunderClan. And by the way it's INSANE how inbred SkyClan, The Kittypet Guys, became in less than 3 generations. It's AWFUL.

This is because the writers have a really bad habit of "quantity over quality" in terms of which cats they choose to "breed." They'll pick "super parents" in a generation, essentially, have them produce 4 - 7 kittens, and then choose 3 of them to become the parents of the next generation. Clovertail, Snowbird, Robinwing, Swiftbreeze... and basically they irrevocably fuck up the genetic diversity completely.

(and then they forget they did it and ignore their own shitty tree, because if they didn't, they would completely prevent shipping within several generations. Dustpelt being Ferncloud's uncle, Spottedleaf being Tigerclaw's aunt, Brightheart and Swiftpaw being 1st cousins, Thrushpelt being Thistleclaw's brother, all things the writers completely forget... if you treat canon like scripture, you'll eat yourself alive.)

But anyway, tangents aside, lines that are entirely dead within ThunderClan;

Thrushpelt, Dappletail. This little branch is dead.

Sunstar's line is dead

One-Eye's kits, Runningwind and Mousefur, had none of their own

Doestar's line is dead

Not to mention the orphan warriors. Hollypelt, Rockfall, Weedwhisker...

So, in a nutshell, the list of "living" lines is shorter than the list of 'dead' lines. This is because the lines in most side clans aren't tracked, and in Thunder and Sky, bloodlines bunch up through genetic bottlenecks like Adderswift/Robinfuzzy/Clovertail.

#bone babble #warrior cats family tree #I see folks talking about how they don't really care if there's orphan warriors but like... I do #Because what I LIKE about warriors is its unique premise #Following characters that grow up quickly and following several generations #It doesn't use this concept very well (and I've done the homework to prove it) but in theory?#there is nothing else like it.#There's no other series like WC #And I think they've dropped the ball in not defining some Families/Nests/Crests what have you and talking about their unique problems #Something you can see me trying to fix with Whitedragon and the Houndstar Line #The Firekin shouldn't be the only family out here who's allowed to talk about legacy!!#And hell even the Tigerkin have gotten over it aside from offhanded laughter at Leafstar for a social faux pas

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sandwitchstories · 7 days ago

Text

The Family Portrait

Well hey there! Welcome back to Mouse's Mini-Verse! One of the hardest parts of parenting is having to keep a straight face when you just want to bust a gut laughing. Kids say and do the damndest things. And Mouse, as we all know, is no different!

For more adventures with Mouse and Dad!Sukuna, check out my Daddy Duty Series on my AO3 - Here! )

Author's Note: For anyone new to my Dad!Sukuna Series, Mouse is Sukuna's, currently, 2 year old daughter with reader.

Summary: Mouse demonstrates her artistic abilities. There's just... a slight issue...

If you would prefer to read this story on AO3, click here !

WC: 1k+

CW: reader is referred to as 'Mama' but not described, toddler dad Sukuna, girl dad!sukuna, true form Sukuna (4 arms), it's pretty much Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack, SFW in every way, just family fluff, Uraume has 2 cameos

Sukuna, you, and Uraume stood side by side, staring in disbelief. You berated yourself for not questioning the silence sooner. Sukuna wondered how the hell Mouse did something of this magnitude so quickly and quietly. Uraume sighed and excused themselves to go get rags and a bucket of water.

Mouse stood frozen and stared back at the two of you for about… 15 heart beats, just long enough to sense she was in trouble, before she made an attempt at a mad dash past Sukuna. Papa wasn’t called the King of Curses for no reason. With his incredible speed he reached down and snatched her up by the back of her outfit before she could get within 3 feet of where you both stood. He brought her up to his face, dangling as he gripped her outfit.

“And where do you think you are going, Mouse?”

She reached out her hands to cup his cheeks. “Down, please and thank you, Papa!”

“Not happening, brat.”

“Mouse,” you said, trying to get her attention. You glared at Sukuna as he turned his hand so your, still dangling in mid air, daughter was now facing you instead of him. He gave you a cheeky grin from behind her. He knew, without any shadow of a doubt, that the glare had been because he had almost made you laugh when you needed to be stern.

“Hi Mama. Hold me, please and thank you, Mama?” she asked, stretching out her arms towards you.

You took her from his grasp and put her down on the floor ignoring her whine and pout. You knelt down to be more on her level. “Mouse, please explain to me why you have written all over the wall with your father’s calligraphy ink.”

Sukuna crossed both sets of arms as he stood and waited for her answer. You knew he was annoyed, both by the mess she had made and by her using, what appeared to be, every single drop of ink he had owned.

“I no write on wall,” she looked at you confused.

“Then what do you call that?” you asked, pointing behind her.

She grinned at you and then at Sukuna. “I painted a picture for you!”

“That’s… a… painting,” Sukuna said slowly, squinting all 4 of his eyes at the jagged lines, swirls, dots and scribbles. “I’m not seeing it.”

“I show you?” Mouse asked, looking between you and Sukuna.

“What the hell,” Sukuna sighed and gestured her forward.

“Mama, stand up, please and thank you.”

You did as told, trying hard not to be upset about your ruined wall. It got a little easier when she turned around, grabbed a finger on each of your hands and headed forward, pulling you both along behind her.

Once you got to the wall she walked over to the right side of the wall. “I start here, Mama, Papa.”

“Alright, Mouse. You have our attention,” you said, standing next to Sukuna who had recrossed his arms and stared with his usual grumpy look of disinterest but you noticed his eyes were all fixed on where his daughter was pointing.

“This is a puppy. This is a kitty. This is a fishie. This is a birdie. That’s a bug. That’s a tree… and another tree…,” she continued, pointing at various scribbles as she walked.

“What’s that?” Sukuna pointed, skipping ahead to the biggest part of the design. A large…something. It was a shape resembling a rectangle with lines coming out from either side and underneath.

“That’s you, Papa!” she said with the proudest smile on her face.

She then pointed to a smaller version with less lines on the sides but a good number of long lines coming down from the top. “That’s you, Mama!”

Sukuna grinned, kneeling down and putting a hand on her back. He put another hand on the back of her head and kissed her forehead. “You captured our likeness well, I suppose.”

“It’s a beautiful drawing, little one, but from now on let’s do it on paper only, okay?” you asked, brushing fingers through her hair with a smile on your own face.

“Okay, Mama. I promise,” she nodded happily. You could only hope and pray she remembered this conversation next time.

“And you need to ask first.”

“Okay, Mama, I promise.”

“What’s this one?” Sukuna asked as he pointed to another part of the picture. How she had managed to make a scribbled shape look annoyed was beyond him, but that was the only damn way he could describe what he was looking at. An annoyed blob. Mouse gave him a toothy grin. “That's Urau-rau!”

You choked on air at her response. “You know what, I can see it.” Sukuna tilted his head to the side with a shit eating grin on his face. He glanced up at you, all four eyes twinkling with mischief. Oh no…

He quickly scooped Mouse up in one of his arms, making her laugh loudly with her head thrown back while she held onto his clothing with tight, tiny fists as he stood. He glanced to the doorway Uraume was returning through with the cleaning supplies. You knew your husband well enough to know that you were about to want to throttle him.

“Uraume, I have changed my mind. Leave it as it is,” he said as he began walking out of the room with Mouse in his arms. “Come, Mouse. Let's go find a snack.”

“Snacks! Snack! Snacks! Please and thank you, Papa!” Mouse said in a happy almost sing-song voice, looking up at him like he hung the moon.

“May I ask why, Master Sukuna?” they asked, eyes trained down trying not to let any irritation show.

“It’s a family portrait,” Sukuna answered, amusement in his tone.

“I painted you too, Urau-rau!!” Mouse called over his shoulder waving as they disappeared down the hallway, the sounds of them discussing what to snack on fading as they moved away.

Uraume looked at you and shook their head. “I am glad there is only one of those things.”

You chuckled and gave them a pat on the back before you began to follow after the other two. With your hand on the doorframe you paused and looked back, making direct eye contact with them. You winked and said one last thing before fully exiting the room “Only one…For now.”

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acetaminphen · 2 months ago

Text

Forgive Me Father (PT 1)

Charlie Mayhew x Reader

*religious, sacrilege, angst, some fluff, mentions of abuse / abuse, adult content 18+, mentions of blood, not entirely based on how he would act, not religiously accurate*

WC: idk it’s a lot

As a new nun you had very little say in regards to your placement within the church. It came as a shock when you, alongside a handful of other nuns, were reassigned to the new young priest. You expected some minuscule job not assisting a very priest himself. As of now you exited the right wing of the church, it now serving as a convent. Dinner was being prepared and it was your job to collect any herbs or vegetables, the rest was delivered once a week. The bottom of your habit dirtying as you bent over harvesting some rosemary. Hearing the snap of a twig you felt the presence of Father Mayhew, low thunder roared across the horizon a breeze acting as a warning of the approaching cold front.

“I knew I would find you out here, sister.” Father Mayhew spoke up, his playful grin only widening as you subconsciously wiped the dirt from your hands onto your dress. He would never admit aloud but he much preferred your presence over the rest.

“Oh, hello Father.” You say as you close your eyes and nod at the same time, as you stand up and look at him. You fix your habit and wipe your hands off to the sides of it. “Did you need me for something?” You question, looking up at him with quite the height difference, having your hands folded in front of you.

He chuckled, finding your timid nature strangely amusing. He watched you fuss with your habit, making a mental note to have someone fix the hem. It hadn’t escaped his attention on your first day that it seemed a bit too long on you. He crossed his arms in front of him, standing tall yet relaxed. “There is something I need to talk to you about.” He mentioned, the usual seriousness that seemed to plague him returning to his tone.

You furrow your eyebrows slightly and quickly, wondering what he could be needing to talk to you about in such a serious nature. “Of course Father, what is it?”

His dark eyes, normally cold and intimidating, remained on you. He studied your features as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. How many times has he seen you kneel before him, head bowed, lips moving in prayer. He’s yet to find out if you were just as obedient in other areas. “Are you comfortable here? At the convent?” He inquired, the corner of his mouth twitching up, as if amused by something.

“Yes of course Father.” You try to say without hesitation, as you think of how of course there’s things you would change, and nothing quite beats home itself. “Why do you ask?”

He hummed, a low noise that was almost guttural. He knew your reply well before you spoke it. He also knew that you weren’t completely telling the truth in your answer. With a subtle step closer, his towering figure now easily casted a shadow over your form. “Are you lying to me, sister?” Father Mayhew mumbled, his voice low and almost commanding.

You look up at him, with just your eyes as he steps closer to you. You speak low. “Oh now, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Father Mayhew raised an eyebrow. In the short time since you’d joined the church he found your reactions to his presence… rather pleasing. He would find himself watching you in the pews, or during prayer, trying to decipher your intentions. Your meek nature kept his mind occupied with ways to break you out of it. He took another step closer, now towering directly over you. He wanted to see how far he could go before you’d crack under the weight of his gaze. “Maybe not lie, but I know there is more you are withholding from me.”

You released a small almost playful smirk. “This isn’t confession, Father.”

He couldn’t help but smile at your snarky comment, the sight of your smirk sending an almost unfamiliar feeling through him. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as he watched you with his usual scrutinizing gaze. “You have attitude, sister.” He practically hissed the word ‘sister’, his tone was both scolding yet amused.

“Not attitude father, perseverance.” Your smirk turns to a small closed innocent smile, still looking up at him.

He had to forcibly bit back a laugh, the sudden spark of challenge in your eyes something he didn’t expect. He was quite used to nuns bowing at his feet and doing as he asked. You, however, were not like the others, you gave as much as you got. He wanted to see just how much he could get out of you before you lost your fight. “Interesting.” He murmured, his voice still deep with authority. He took yet another step closer until there was only inches between the two of you.

You clear your throat as you finally look down from him. “Now is there anything I can actually help you with, Father or may I get back to picking our vegetables for tonight’s dinner?” You ask as you look back up at him, slightly squinting from the setting sun.

His gaze followed yours, watching you intently. He didn’t miss the way your cheeks dusted with pink. This time he didn’t hold back a smirk, finding your flustered state very amusing. He hummed once again, crossing his arms in front of him as he considered leaving you in your current condition. However, he thought better of it, after all, he did actually have a reason to seek you out. “I have a job for you.” He spoke up, his tone now back to the usual seriousness.

“And what might the job be, Father? Who will tend to the garden after I leave?”

The corner of his mouth curled up, watching how you fidgeted awkwardly. You were trying your best to appear calm and collected yet it was evident you weren’t used to being stuck so closely next to him. He took pity on you, opting to answer your question first before explaining the task he needed you to complete. “Do not worry, I’m sure the others can finish up the remainder of the harvesting.”

You narrow your eyes a bit, hiding it within your squinting from the sun. “And what is the job, Father?” You repeat yourself.

He rolled his eyes, amused by your stubbornness. Father Mayhew took two of his long fingers, gently placing them on your chin to angle your head, away from the bright sun and towards him. Once you looked at him he removed his hand, letting it fall back to his side. “You’ll be coming to my office. There are some… documents I need you to help me organize.”

“I thought documents were confidential, only a Priest and the Abbess could view them?” You pause for a moment. “There’s not even an Abbess yet.” You cross your arms.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your sudden challenge. He was used to the older sisters giving in to his word, never second guessing his authority. Having you question him made his chest feel light, he hadn’t felt this entertained in awhile. He watched impassively as you crossed your arms in front of you.“There is an exception to every rule, sister.” He mentioned, his voice taking a commanding tone once more. His eyes flicked over your figure, observing you carefully.

You widden your eyes a bit as you let out a small sigh, thinking what kind of Priest doesn’t follow the rules. “Lead the way, Father.” You dust off your hands together to make sure all the dirt is off. He nodded, a smirk once again tugging at his lips. He relished in your submission, watching you brush off the dirt from your hands before he turned to lead you towards his office. His pace was brisk, the length of his strides forcing you into a half jog as you tried to keep up with him.

“You know, you would benefit from a lesson in being more… obedient.” He spoke up, barely casting a glance back at you.

“I’m quite obedient, am I not? I’m following you to your office to help sort those documents, hm?” You look up at him with your eyes as the two of you continue to walk. He chuckled again once you pointed out your ‘compliance’. You were right, you were following his direction and coming with him to his office as he asked. However, your attitude, your stubbornness, was just as present, showing no signs of submission.

“I take back what I said, perhaps you need a few lessons on obedience, sister. A reminder to lower your eyes and keep your voice reserved.” He suggested, the office building now coming into view.

You let out a small laugh. “I think that will take more than a few lessons, Father.” You say as you look away from him back to the front of yourself as you keep walking. Father Mayhew could feel his chest become tight at the sound of your light laugh. He shook his head, trying to clear any impure thoughts or distractions. Hearing you speak back to him so unreserved, no longer flinching under his gaze. He wondered if he could break this defiant spirit of yours or if you were a lost cause. As the reached the office, he held the door open for you, motioning you through.

“After you, sister.”

You give a small nod to him as you walk into his office, you take a look around as you walk in. “Beautiful office, didn’t think it would be this nice.”

He watched as you entered, seeing the curious glances you gave around the room. He shut the door behind him before speaking up, crossing his arms in front of himself as he stood across from you. “What did you expect? Dirt, dust, and a singular chair to sit on?” He teased, watching for your reaction.

You let out a little laugh. “Well who am I to know what Father Mayhew has in his office.” You walk over to one of the bookshelves and look at all the books on it. He rolled his eyes as he watched you wander around the room, once again feeling an unfamiliar sensation course through him as he watched you touch his bookshelf and look at the various books on display. He leaned against his desk as he watched you, eyes following you intently.

“I must say, I didn’t expect you to be so insolent.” He mentioned, his tone almost playful.

“I wasn’t always a nun.”

His eyebrows raised. For some reason he thought of you as a good, obedient girl, never imagining you had a wild past. He tilted his head, intrigued. “Oh? Now you’ve definitely sparked my curiosity. You used to be quite the… party animal?”

You give him a small smile. “Lets save that story for another time Father, now how about those documents we’re supposed to sort?”

He hummed, mentally filing away your words for later. He could tell there was more to your story, and he’d be lying if he didn’t want to uncover it. He pushed off the desk, sauntering over to a set of drawers and pulling out a few files. “Indeed.” He murmured, his earlier serious tone returning as he handed you one of the files, keeping the others for himself.

You take the file, looking at the cover. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to look at these files? I’m not an Abbess, nor am I obviously a Priest.” You look up at him with a slightly worried expression, not wanting to get in trouble by the Bishops.

He couldn’t help the smirk that formed at your question, amused by your innocence and naivety. He watched as your eyes flicked up to him, your pretty face now held a worried expression, a stark contrast to the defiant attitude you had earlier. He set the files he was holding onto his desk before responding, watching intently as your eyes followed his every step. “Don’t fret, sister. I have already cleared it with the Diocese. You are merely giving me a helping hand.”

You slightly furrow your eyebrows and shake your head as you look down. “Of course Father.” How could you think that he wouldn’t clear it beforehand. He chuckled again, his chest feeling lighter the more he observed your expressions. You weren’t making it easy for him to maintain his usual stern demeanor. Seeing you look so innocently concerned over something so minor was amusing to him. As he stood beside you he raised a hand to brush a piece of loose hair from your face. He let his hand linger on your cheek, feeling the heat from your skin.

“You’re such a good girl, worrying about such things.” He whispered, his voice low and slightly mocking.

You can feel your face heat up as you continue looking down, not wanting to make eye contact with him. “Now Father,” You clear your throat, “What exactly are we doing with these documents?” You try to ignore what he’s doing and stay focused on the task.

He hummed lowly as he pulled his hand away, his fingers grazing across your cheek as he did so. He chuckled, noticing your attempt to keep his fingers from catching your reaction to his touch. His gaze darkened as he walked over and sat down in his chair, watching you from his desk. “It’s nothing complicated. I’m just updating the parish records, adding new members, removing old ones. But, my hand has been aching from all the writing. So I just need you to copy my notes into new files after I write them.”

You look back up as he walks away, looking at him now sitting at his desk, your face still hot. “That’ll take all night, won’t it?”

He folded his hands on the desk, observing how red your cheeks were, how hard you were trying to maintain a straight face. He knew the cause but decided he wouldn’t mention it, not yet. He chuckled at your statement, his eyes roaming your face as he spoke. “Well if you keep talking then yes, it will. Now stop standing around and get started, the sooner you start the sooner you can return to the garden.”

You purse your lips, almost embarrassed at how much you’ve been talking, not even realizing it. You walk over to his desk and sit down as start copying his notes into new files. He watched you silently as you sat down, his gaze following your every movement. Something about you was different from the other nuns. You were more lively, outspoken even, and seemingly unafraid of his presence, of his status. He liked this fact, he found it refreshing. As you copied his notes he continued to look at you, his eyes flickering from your face to your hands, watching as your pen raced across the paper, copying his handwriting perfectly.

After a long while of copying documents to new files, you stop for a moment and look up at him. “Why did you pick me, Father? To help you, I mean.” He was somewhat surprised when you looked up from your work to ask your question, he had been so focused on studying you, he hadn’t realized how long you had been copying documents into files.

He took a moment to respond, his mind searching for a suitable reply. He couldn’t just tell you that he wanted an excuse to have you all to himself alone in his office, he couldn’t tell you how he wanted to push your buttons, wanted to see how far he could go with you before you protested. “You just happened to be the closest to me in the garden.”

He was fibbing. Knowing there were other nuns out there with you. You tilt your head slightly as you continue looking at him. “Are you lying to me, Father?” You ask quietly, seemingly mocking him from earlier as he had asked you the same thing.

A smirk involuntarily tugged at the corners of his lips as you mimicked his earlier question. He folded his hands on top of the desk to keep from touching you. As stubborn as you were, he found your attempts to be cheeky humorous. He hummed in response, his eyes narrowed slightly as he observed your face, watching as you stared at him expectantly, awaiting a response. He shook his head slowly, deciding to humor you.

“And if I was? What would you do about it, hm?”

Shocked at his response, thinking to yourself what would you do, really? “Well, lying is a sin, Father.”

He hummed again, his smirk now fully formed on his face. Oh you were good. And a smartass too. He was finding it increasingly harder to maintain his usual authoritative demeanor in your presence when you were acting so bold. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of himself. He tilted his head, his eyes raking over your figure, taking in how you sat so innocently on the edge of your chair, your habit falling around you. "A sin indeed. But what about obeying a Priest, hm? You seem to have a hard time with that one, sister."

You look down with a small smirk as you let out a small “hm”. He got you there. “It seems we both have our own sins.” You pause for a moment. “But I guess that’s what confession is for, right Father?” You question as you look back up at him.

He could sense the sarcastic tone of your voice when you spoke. Oh you were definitely testing his patience, how far could you push it before you got a response? His mind wandered to the question of whether you spoke to the other priests like this, or if he was the one you enjoyed sassing most. He smirked right back at you, his eyes never leaving your face. He leaned forward, resting his forearms onto the desk and interlocking his fingers.

“Yes, you would be correct. But something tells me you don’t take the confessional quite seriously, do you?”

You can feel your chest get heavier with each little poke and prod he does, seemingly trying to get you to break. You tilt your head at him, furrowing your eyebrows. “Now what makes you say that, Father? Personally I believe I take my confessions quite serious, isn’t that all that matters?”

He chuckled, observing you intensely as you continued to resist his attempts. Your stubbornness was, he had to admit, quite attractive. He found it almost endearing in a way. He sat back in his chair again, a smirk still on his lips as he spoke.

“Hm, yes I suppose so. But what I think is that you don’t confess half of the things that go through your mind. You like to hold back on information. You seem the secretive type, wouldn’t you agree?”

You keep your head at the same little tilt. You speak quietly, “I could say the same thing about you, Father. You seem like you have a lot of deep secrets, ones you wouldn’t tell a single soul…”

His eyes darkened, his smirk fading as you responded to him. He clenched his jaw at your comment, an edge now to his voice. He leaned forward again, his gaze fixed on your face as he spoke, each word coming out more slowly than the last, his tone slightly laced with anger. “Watch what you say to me, sister. Don’t presume you know things about me.”

A small smirk plays on your face and then fades. “I’ve watched you more than you think Father. Sneaking away from the other priests, when you think nobody is watching…” You lean forwards to his desk.

He grits his teeth, anger slowly building up in him again. He didn’t like the fact that you had noticed. He prided himself on being a private man. And no one, especially a young, innocent-looking nun, should be able to watch his every move so carefully. He slams his palms on the desk, standing up, his towering figure now looming over you as he spoke, his voice coming out in a low whisper.

“And what exactly have you witnessed, sister?”

You flinch slightly and lean back into your chair as he slams his hands down and stands over you. You look down not wanting to look up at him. A small smirk can’t help but play at your face, knowing you finally broke the so called stoic priest. “I haven’t witnessed anything, Father…” You speak in almost a whisper now.

He could see the small smirk on your face, and it annoyed him more than it should have. You were being defiant, trying to play coy, when underneath it all, you were enjoying this, goading him on. He grabbed you chin and roughly pulled your face up to look at him, his fingers holding your jaw tightly. He clenched his jaw as he spoke, his voice coming out in a low, frustrated tone. “You may be innocent-looking, but you’re not as simple and sweet as you seem, are you, sister?”

You look up at him with your eyes as he holds your chin, forcing you to look at nothing but him. You press your tongue to the inside of your cheek. “Clearly neither are you, Father...”

He chuckled darkly as you speak back to him again, his grip on your jaw tightening as you continue to taunt him. He was becoming more and more frustrated with you. With how you continued to test his limits with no remorse. How you continued to toy with him as if you had no idea of the effect you were having on him. He leaned in closer to you, his face now mere inches from yours, his voice a low, menacing whisper.

“Be careful, sister...your brattiness is going to get you in trouble someday.”

“Oh you wouldn’t dare get me in trouble with the knowledge I have on you.” A small smile peaks through him grabbing your jaw, your eyes showing something more than retaliation. Still keeping your calm whispering tone.

His eyes darkened again, a look of frustration crossing over his face as he heard your words. He knew you were right. You had power over him. You knew too much. He was in a lose-lose situation with you. He leaned in even closer, so close now that you could feel his breath on your face. His eyes raked over your face again, taking in every part of you. He spoke in a low, almost menacing tone.

“And what exactly is it that you know, sister? Pray tell.”

You can feel his fingers pressing into the skin of your cheeks and jaw. The small smile still drawn on your face. “Oh I couldn’t tell you Father, that would be no fun.”

He clenched his jaw again, his fingers digging even harder into your skin. He knew exactly what game you were playing now. And he hated that. He hated that he was caught in your trap. Caught by some young, insolent nun. He took another step forward, essentially boxing you in against his desk, his face now mere centimeters from yours. His voice came out as a harsh whisper, the frustration and anger slowly bubbling over.

“You really think you’re clever don’t you, sister?”

“I’m more than clever Father.” You take your hand and move it to his that’s gripping your face and grab it. “Be careful, before you leave a mark. Wouldn’t want people questioning you now.”

He flinched as your hand reached up and grabbed his, but he didn’t pull away, instead letting you hold it there against your face. He knew you were right. He couldn’t mark your skin or people would notice. People would talk. And he needed to maintain his image. He didn’t respond verbally, his eyes just looking down at you, a deep frustration settling onto his face as his hand relaxed slightly against you, his fingertips no longer digging into your skin, instead lightly resting against your face.

A small open smile paints your face, it has a slight smirk to it as your hand is still resting on his. You let it linger for a moment before moving it away. You take a step back from him, noticing the time. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning in confession Father. No more lies.”

He watched as you smiled up at him, that look of smugness and satisfaction on your face made his chest ache with anger. He hated that you were in control here, but he had no choice but to give in. He couldn’t risk you saying something to the others about him. He stepped back slowly as you took a step back from him, his mind reeling with thoughts of anger and annoyance, but also something else. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.

“Tomorrow morning, sister. You’d better have something good to confess.”

“As you, Father.” You give a small nod before leaving his office.

He clenched his jaw as you left the office, his mind racing as he watched you go. You were a cheeky bastard, a smartass. But you had a point. He did have things he needed to confess. Things you didn’t know about. Yet. His hand reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Dammit. He had to stop letting you get to him like this.

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GUYS. i’m so excited for this series, it is so good so far, i can’t wait to see where this goes. also can we just make note of the red boots and the CHAPS?

anyways if this does well ish i’ll do a part 2.

part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/acetaminphen/763614566704922624/forgive-me-father-pt-2

#nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #charlie mayhew #grotesquerie #fanfic #imagines #reader insert #writing #spotify #celebrities #religion #religious trauma #religious imagery

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nightly-ruse · 2 years ago

Note

Curious, why’d you renamed Whitetail to Whitewing? or was it confusion?

Oh shit no that was just a mess up lol. I may rename her anyways tho I think maybe after a bird. Thinking Ospreytail to match Kestrel

Edit: fixed it! Updated tree already linked

#thanks for pointing that out I’m gonna fix it now lol #family tree #wc #wc changed tree #tag for this :)#asks

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catsoupki · 28 days ago

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當你不在 / when you’re not there (satoru gojo x reader) PT. 1

Summary: Satoru Gojo is slowly being backed into a corner by his father to pick a bride if he wants to inherit the throne, as his royal guard, you just want to protect him.

Warnings: prince gojo x royal guard reader ! soft FLUFF!!! for now anyway, since this is only the build-up for this 3-part (?) miniseries, i’m planning the angst and the smut 😛 stay tuned hahaha

wc: 850

Today is cold, the winds of autumn come knocking at the walls of Oculos, you’re kept warm, however, by the layers that shield your skin from the nipping chill— a tunic in sapphire blue covers your torso, a grey cuirass of dragon skin keeps your posture upright, and a bearskin cap tames your hair kempt. Perhaps an onlooker would’ve found the series of leather that strap around your shoulders and waist to be constricting, but your movement has grown within these boundaries— you were born for this duty.

Every day begins with leading a drill for your brigade. Whilst you stand under the wilting willow tree, you’ll pretend to not hear the soft hums coming from the prince’s chambers as you allow the wind to mess up your neckband.

Roughly an hour later, Your Majesty will finally decide that he shall leave his bedroom to come greet you by the dried leaves.

By then, you will have rounded up your men in two single-file lines to salute the prince. He never spares them an eye, maybe not even a breath. But it’s routine that he comes over to you, blue eyes one entire head above yours, looking down at you with a glint that is softly familiar, and he’ll fix your collar everyday without fail.

Afterwards, he shall go enjoy his breakfast in the hall, while you continue training your soldiers on wielding the katana with sparring and beatings. Breakfast, for you, always starts on an empty and aching stomach.

Today was meant to be no different, your steps periodic as you head towards the first meal of the day, but General Getou stops you in your tracks, “Commander y/n, report for duty in the grand hall. Satoru is looking for you again.” He sighs, “I’ll save some breakfast for you.”

“Thanks.” You say, the wind carrying your voice to him while you begin trekking in another direction.

When you enter the room, it seems that a ball has been going for some time already, despite it being only just the afternoon. Goblets of alcohol litter the tables, and a variety of fruits cover every surface. You return to your post— behind Satoru, on his right. He notices you right away, sneaking past the noisy wooden doors that you never liked, he’ll apologise later for making you skip breakfast, but he can’t be bothered to look at all these women parading themselves in front of him.

“Y/n, do I look fine today?” Satoru teases, cutting off a princess from the neighbouring country, simultaneously ignoring the glare that his father sends him from atop the throne.

“You look just as well as you had yesterday, Your Majesty.”

Out of the entire royal family, the only people who never held a distaste for you were Satoru and his mother, and now that she’s dead, you dare not speak in the presence of Satoru’s father, but you are the captain of the royal guard.

“Son, don’t you think the lady in red is just dashing? I think she’s much worthy of your attention, she’s of noble blood, at least.”

You remain stone-faced at your post, because the duty that you have learned to love comes with the acceptance of people’s spit: you are no more than the dirt on the sole of his shoes.

“Hmm, I think not, thanks father, and thanks ladies, but it seems that I have other more interesting matters to tend to. Have a safe trip home!”

Satoru is used to sending kings and the like home with red, glowing faces. He doesn’t care, he just drags you with him as he takes his exit. And you? You just follow him like a sunflower to the sun.

“You think I could just act super rude obliviously to drive them away?” Satoru asks, white hair blowing in the sea-salted wind.

He looks at you, but you look at Suguru, as you’re still shovelling the cold bites of food into your mouth.

“Their fathers are definitely willing to overlook that as long as they get to have your powers. Satoru, you seem to forget the reason why they’re even here to court you in the first place.”

Loneliness is a cold, unforgiving feeling. It’s not the same as breathing in winter air that makes your throat itch, loneliness doesn’t make rounds like the seasons do, it stays, stubbornly and mulishly rooted at the base of every step that he takes, it’s—

“It’s been three years, won’t my father just give up? Three years, no kingdom ever woos me for real, anyway.”

“What if you just marry someone and divorce them after you get the throne?” You ask, eyes bugged as you finish the last of your meal.

“I don’t want to consummate with a woman I have not a single tittle of feelings for.” You and Suguru meet eyes as Satoru continues to deliver his tirade to the calm ocean. You two will never be able to understand his life, a life of one million suns.

“I’ll figure it out.”

—it’s when you’re not there.

tag list: @hatsukeii @staraxiaa

#gojo is so unserious #sy.satoru #need to set up a masterlist later whatttttt #gojou satoru x you #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x y/n #satoru x you #jujutsu satoru #gojou x reader #gojou x you #gojou x y/n

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taesanluv3r · 6 months ago

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a royal wedding.

prince! kim leehan x princess! reader

pure fluff. your heart will melt into mush!! i want prince leehan so bad ugh TT lowercase intended, excuse any spelling mistakes / grammatical errors. enjoy :3

wc: 4,674

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"angel, would you like a refill too?"

princess yn's little hands wrap around either side of her ceramic teapot, pouring imaginary liquid into her white cat's cup. she giggles, conversing with her pet and her toys as she leans her back against the large tree that stood in the middle of her family's large palace garden. the little princess smiles joyfully as she fixes the miniature tiara on her teddy's head, her own one tilting slightly as she moved around. a sudden rustle of leaves from behind her shakes her out of her make-believe tea party, she sighs softly when she hears a pair of feet getting closer to her. they stop for a moment, a shadow appearing over the green grass as the figure hid behind the tree.

"ha~yA! en garde!" the voice of the boy that jumped out in front of her was squeaky and loud, the voice that belonged to none other than the child of the neighbouring kingdom, prince leehan. he stood before her, his fencing uniform on and a small sword made of wood, that pointed straight at the stuffed toy, in his hand. "is this little teddy bear bothering you, yn? if it is, i shall battle him to the death!" the young princess rolls her eyes at her friend's words, not giving him, or his loud actions, much of a reaction as it happened almost every single time. "first of all, teddy is a she. and she's a teddy bear! she's not gonna hurt me, leehan" the prince sighs in defeat, slumping himself down right beside her against the tree. she hands him a cup, filling it up with the imaginary beverage and he thanks her, playing along. "but how am i supposed to protect my princess if no one is harming her?" the boy displays a big pout on his lips, taking a sip of nothing out of the ceramic cup. she giggles, "you're so silly, leehan" yn strokes a hand through her cat's head as it crawls onto her lap. "you promise i can save you from all the bad guys when we grow up, right yn?" leehan's eyes are big and shining, looking straight into her own sparkly ones. "of course! after we get married!" the boy nods quickly at her response, "we are gonna have the best wedding! we can even have an aquarium in our wedding!" the girl laughs at his weird obsession with fishes, "and we can have a chocolate fountain!" he nods again, "and lot's of presents" the prince's eyes are gleaming as he looks into the future, his thoughts shaken when her little hand pushes against his shoulder. "a wedding isn't like a birthday, silly" he frowns, "i know one thing we have to have at our wedding though..." she nods, as if she knew exactly what the boy was thinking. the two little royals turned to each other at the same time, speaking in unison.

"a hundred tier chocolate cake"

the young boy and girl shared a laugh, quieting down for minute to listen to the rustling of falling leaves and the purring of the feline in her lap. "but i really really want something at our wedding" and he turns to face her again, head tilted off to the side to let her know he was listening. "i want to have a billion blue butterflies to fly around when we kiss" the princess says, eyes wandering up to the sky as she smiles at the thought of her dream wedding. the prince blushes slightly, "i like the butterfly thing...but do we really have to kiss?" yn rolls her eyes, slapping his arm, "of course! that's what all adults do!" leehan nods in agreement, "i can't wait to be married" she mimics his head movements,

"me too"

just then, the sound of a bell removes the two children out of their daydreams, the voice of the princess' helper entering into their little ears. "princess yn! prince leehan! oh, there you are..." the young woman's name is mildred, she's been helping with the princess since she was a wee little baby. "mildred!" yn cheered, getting up to give her a hug. the woman gladly returned it, fixing the back of the girl's frock that began to wrinkle up in the process. "are you here to join our afternoon tea?" the princess asked, smiling up at her helper who just shakes her head softly. "no, no. while i'd love to, prince leehan's parents are searching for him. you've got to go home now" she directs the last part of her sentence towards the young boy who was beginning to get up off of the grass. "but why? can't he play a little longer?" the two children shared the same frown, "no, princess. he's got to get home! c'mon, grab your teddies, i'll take angel" the girl obliges, turning to collect all her toys as the woman picked her white cat up from the ground. the boy waited for his princess, politely reaching a hand out for her to take so they could walk together, back into her family's palace.

"oh, there you two are!" edmund, the young man that served the little prince exclaims as the two children came into view. "edmund! my humble servant!" leehan cheered, puffing his chest out to imitate the way heroic king's stood. the man chuckled, grabbing onto the boy's playing sword and greeting the princess as well. "let's go, your majesty and your highness are waiting for you" he says, signalling for them to follow him into the main throne room.

"papa!" yn smiled, running over to the king and the queen. "hey, darling. how was your tea party, hm?" the older man asks, standing tall with a pretty gold crown sat atop his head. "it was fun...but why does leehan have to go home so soon?" she whines, turning to face the rulers of the neighbouring kingdom he had come from. "i'm sorry, princess. leehan has some prince-ly duties to fulfill...he'll come again soon, okay?" the boy's mom spoke sweetly, tapping a cold finger against the little girl's cheek. "okay" she sighed, a frown grazing against her lips. "bye, my princess! i've got hero duties to do!" leehan announces, grabbing onto the girl's hand and pressing a kiss against it. yn rolls her eyes once again, giggling at the feeling.

"bye, my silly prince"

the two royal families finally part ways, the king and queen waving off the other pair as they waltzed away into their limousine and off to their own side of the evenly distributed lands. the queen smiles as she picks her daughter up from where she stood on the palace grounds and into her arms. "mama, you know what?" the young princess asks, grabbing the attention of her father as well. "what is it, darling?" her mother asks, looking at her intently. "leehan and i are gonna get married! and he'll protect me from all the evil bad guys with his diamond sword!" her parents laugh, "is that so?" the king continues their chat, entering the dining room as they did so. "mhm! and! and we'll have a hundred tier chocolate cake!" the princess' parents giggle.

"i can't wait! it'll be the perfect-est wedding ever!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"ugh why'd i sign myself up for this?" princess yn groans, head banging against the long wooden table that sat in one of the many rooms in her palace, the sound and impact causing the old white cat that laid down across from her to jump right off. prince leehan chuckles, moving to hover over her from behind, looking down at the pieces of paper scattered in front of her. "that doesn't look bad at all, love" he says, hands rubbing circles softly against her shoulders. "and besides...you were the one who insisted on hand-written letters for the guests!" his comment makes her roll her eyes, "ugh, i give up! let's just...hire someone to do this along with the other wedding favors" the guy laughs, tightening the grip he had on her shoulders. "i already did that, love. i was just waiting till you gave up, to let you know" her mouth drops opened, turning her head around to face him with narrowed eyes. "you..." yn starts, her eyebrows that were knitted together beginning to soften when she's met with his handsome face. "you know me too well" she sighs, watching as her fiancee smiles, his eyes turning into moon-shaped lines as he did so. a chilling sensation takes over her body when he presses his pink lips against her own ones.

"oh! i'm so sorry to have to ruin this moment, your highness" an old woman interrupts them, entering the room. "no problem, mildred. what's up?" the soon-to-be bride asks, smiling at her helper who's been by her side since she were little. "your gown has arrived for a fitting!" the woman's words make her eyes go wide and she turns to her prince with a joyous look, hastily getting up with excitement. prince leehan waits patiently behind the door, bending down to pet angel on her forehead, only entering the dressing room when he hears a gasp and a squeal of joy. he leans against the door, watching closely as his princess turns around to face him. the boy's mouth hung wide opened, his eyes beginning to gloss up at the sight before him. "wow..." he says, slightly out of breath. he steps towards her, taking her hands in his own. "so beautiful...my princess" she laughs, blushing a little. "thank you...but you know, i'll be your queen soon" he smiles that same smile that makes his eyes disappear into crescent shapes, taking another step closer to kiss her on the lips again.

"oh...i'm about to cry!" mildred's voice rang through the air as she began to tear up. "no, don't! i'll cry as well if you do!" the princess whined, a pout taking over her previous smile. "i swear just a moment ago you two were having an imaginary tea party under the tree...and now...you're getting married!" the royal couple laughs at the old woman's recollection of their childhood, shooting each other happy smiles as the princess wraps her helper into a warm hug.

just then, the familiar face of leehan's own helper enters the room. "your majesty, your presence is requested at the garden...it's for the butterfl-" edmund gets cut off by the prince's loud cough and wide eyes, "yes! i got it, thank you edmund. i'll be there in a second" and he turns over to his fiancee, who wore a curious look on her complexion. "i gotta go check this...this um...thing out. i'll see you tonight, yeah?" he says, holding her hands and looking straight into her eyes. "mhm, and we'll be married tomorrow!" her excitement makes him giggle, "that, we will be. i love you, your highness" leehan says finally, ending his sentence off with a dramatic bow to which yn rolls her eyes, "i love you too, your majesty" he kisses her hand, nodding towards her helper and dressers in the room before they parted ways.

"so...what do we think, your majesty?" prince leehan smiles widely, "it's perfect...i can't wait for her to see this tomorrow!" the boy nods, shaking the hands of the wedding organizer as he thanks him profusely. edmund pats the royal's back softly, "your big day...it's finally coming true, hm?" the butler asks as he and the soon-to-be groom stared off at the garden that was being fixed and decorated for their reception that awaited them in the morning. the boy nods, "i can't believe it..." he says, his voice softening towards the end. "i hope she likes the surprise..." now the prince's voice come out shaky, his nerves suddenly taking over his body. edmund just chuckles, a firm grip placed against his majesty's shoulder. "you're making her biggest dreams come true..."

"i'm sure she'll just love it..."

that night, after sharing a meal with their parents who were ready to give them the responsibility of the throne, the royal couple take a walk alone through one of the many pathways within the castle grounds, taking a moment to be with just each other before their big day.

"i can't wait for tomorrow..." yn says, hands intertwined with leehan's as she looked up at the starry night sky. his eyes are fixed on her, a smile against his lips at the simple sight of the love of his life. "me neither" he says, his voice a bit more quiet than usual, so as to not wake the sleeping horses in the stable they had walked by. "that thing edmund asked you to check in the garden, what was it?" the princess wonders, looking to face him now. the prince stutters softly, not expecting her to bring it up. "um...it's nothing...ugh" he sighs, stopping his feet and grabbing onto her other hand, staring right into her eyes. "what if i say i managed to make your childhood dreams come true?" she furrows her eyebrows, "darling, i've had a thousand different childhood dreams, which one are we talking about?" he chuckles, continuing to walk again. "it's a surprise...but it's something you once told me under the garden tree" the girl's eyebrows remained tied together, racking her brain as she tried to remember every single thing her younger self had told him before.

leehan laughs, moving the hand that was intertwined with hers to wrap his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his grasp. "don't think about it too much, love" he says, pressing a kiss against her hair that smelled of daisies. "you'll see it in just a few hours, anyways" yn pouts, leaning deeper into his embrace. "i don't know if i can wait that long...especially since we aren't allowed to see each other until the reception tomorrow" the boy nods, "i wish they'd let us sleep together, i don't know if i can even sleep tonight" she continues, and he just listens, the same way he always did when they were kids- when she'd talk her own ear off, allowing his to take in all her words.

they made it back into the palace, sharing one last kiss before they were to separate, forbidden from being with each other until the event that awaits them tomorrow. the biggest event to take place in the kingdom for that month. an event that only happens every few years or so...

the royal wedding.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"mildred, i might cry! i've never been this nervous in my life! what if i slip on the floor? what if i accidentally say the wrong words? what if-" the bride is stopped by her helper's hands against the exposed skin of her shoulders. "your highness, yn, it's all gonna be just fine. don't worry too much!" the old woman reassures, earning a worried nod in return from the princess. "excuse me, mildred. do you mind leaving us for a moment?" the sound of the queen's voice spoke from the near the door, the king standing tall beside her. "yes, of course! your highness, your majesty" she nods, bowing down as she leaves the room.

"hi, darling..." the king speaks, making his way over to sit beside his daughter who had slumped herself down on the soft velvet sofa, her mother on the other side of her, and the old white cat purring silently on the floor below them. "how are you feeling, my princess?" the man asks, a hand gently pressed against her shoulder. yn sighs, "i'm most excited for this wedding. it's like my biggest dream coming true..." she trails off, eyes wandering over to the mirror that stood close to where they sat. "but?" the queen asks, stroking a hand through her daughter's hair that got caught against the zipper of her corseted gown. "nothing. i just can't help but be a little nervous, that's all" the royal parents smile softly at their one and only child, her mother shifts slightly before getting up, pulling the bride up with her.

"come to the mirror, i have something for you"

the princess meets with her reflection, smiling adoringly at the most beautiful gown they had gotten custom made to suit her taste. like most wedding dresses, it was white. her shoulders and neck bare as the tulle material of the sleeves fell lightly against her forearms. the corset around her waist tightened to just the right amount so she could still talk without getting out of breath. the skirt of her gown sat atop her petticoat, an abundant amount of fabric layered on top of one another to create a slight train at the very end. her hands had been adorned in a pair of lace gloves, matching the lace hanging off the ends of her bustier. a satin sash in her kingdom's colours wrap around her body and her arms move up to straighten the tiara on her head and she makes eye contact with her mother through the mirror, breathing heavily as she awaits the gift.

the king had gotten off his seat as well, standing right beside his two beloved girls as he watched his wife pull out a shining silver necklace out from the velvet pouch it was previously kept in. "this was my grandmother's...and then my mother's and then mine...and now..." her mother trails off, yn's eyes gleaming at the piece of jewellery that touched against her neck. a cold chain, and in the center an entanglement of metal that encased a single pink gemstone, forming the shape of a heart. "now it's yours" the queen smiles, almost bursting into tears at the sight of her beautiful princess about to be married. "mama..." the bride coos, twirling around to embrace her mother into the warmest of hugs, an arm waving off to the side to invite her father into the moment as well, a loud meow in protest from her pet who seemed to have wanted to be included as well.

"oh...our princess" the king says in between sniffles, "you're going to be an amazing ruler, i just know it" he finishes, earning nods from the now tearful bride. the queen sighs when her eyes make contact with the clock, "we better get to our seats...we'll see you out there, love" she says, giving her daughter one last hug. "c'mon angel, your mother is about to be wedded!" the man says, picking up the feline from the ground. yn smiles, "i love you guys" they shoot her a pair of sweet eyes,

"we love you more, our princess- no, our queen...

good luck out there, we'll be waiting for you"

no longer than thirty minutes more went by, the sound of triumphant cheers coming in from outside the palace walls ringing in the wedding attendees' ears. the guests all rise as per requested by the host, the sound of royal trumpets blasting from each side of the large garden as the groom entered the reception. prince leehan wore a proud smile on his face, bowing and waving as he walked down the carpeted aisle. his tailored suit fit perfectly onto his body, a small handkerchief the same colours as his kingdom's flag peaking out of the tiny pocket near his chest as well as a sash in the same shades crossed over his body from one of his shoulders. the groom's hair was slicked in pomade, neatly tucked behind his ears, his handsome face crystal clear for everyone to see. leehan shakes the hands of his own parents as well as his bride's, standing up straight beside the wedding bearer at the elevated end of the aisle. he sighs nervously, staring at the floor for a second as he awaits his soon-to-be wife.

the loud trumpets were long gone and replaced with the sound of soft piano. he's familiar with the tune for it's a part of the soundtrack of one of her favourite films. the piano duet that victor and emily shared in the corpse bride. he chuckles lightly to himself when he remembers their conversation a while back. as they were watching the movie in his room at his own palace, a smile on the girl's face as she told him how badly she needed the song to play at her dream wedding as she walked down the aisle. the way that it did here now. the sound of the garden's large gates opening caused the boy to look up, a look of awe washing over his face as the beautiful girl he gets to marry today is finally revealed.

princess yn trots slowly behind her two little cousins who scattered a variety of flowers onto the pathway in which she walked. she waves at the guests who's eyes were all locked onto her, a smile growing against her pretty lips as she finally makes it over to him. "wow..." the groom whispers, mouth agape as he stares into his bride's bright eyes, his own ones almost bursting into a billion tears. the girl giggles slightly, a blush beginning to grow against her cheeks. the couple is about to share another laugh at how the garden filled with a sudden silence, the reality of their wedding hitting them hard on their heads like the pitter-pattering of rain against windows, but the sound of the wedding bearer clearing his throat and beginning to speak interrupts their otherwise blissful moment.

"beloved guests! today we celebrate a special day of togetherness. the day we join two kingdoms' hands, and form one! the wedding and coronation of our future rulers..." the man's voice is loud and clear, as if he were speaking into an invisible mic. the pair about to be wedded can't help but stare at each other, their ears threatening to blur out the sounds of their surroundings. "prince leehan and princess yn, please proceed with your vows"

the groom steps forward to pick up both of the princess' hands, staring deeply into her eyes once more before he began to speak. "yn ln...i've known you since that day we met at a royal ball when we were just three years old. for years after that i'd cherish every moment we spent, circling my palace or having tea with your teddy bears under the tree..." the girl can feel the tears trying to escape as she listened intently to his every word. "when we were five i swore to protect you from all the evil that came in your way, sticking up my wooden sword up in the air when we agreed to get married. and here i am now...taking your hands in my own, and asking you to be my wife" he ends his sentence softly, turning for a moment to retrieve the ring from it's cushion that the bearer held. leehan smiles at her once again, trying his best not to cry as he slipped the ring onto her finger.

it was the bride's turn to speak now, though after all of the things he had just said it seemed her vows flew right out of her head. "you know...i grew up having about a dozen new dreams for every second that i stood awake. but within those ever-changing wishes lied one that remained the same, until now." her voice began to shake, she blinks rapidly to prevent any form of liquid to seep out of her eyes. "i've always dreamed of our wedding, the day you would be mine forever. and even though it always felt like it was set in stone, i still can't believe i'm standing here before you. just mere seconds before becoming your wife, for real!" a laugh escapes the groom's lips at the tone of which she spoke, his eyes opening up again as she turns to pick up the second ring that sat on the same cushion. "i love you, kim leehan. thank you for making my dreams come true" her vows come to an end as she, too, slips the ring into his finger. the prince smiles at her, an oddly suspicious look pressed against the features on his face. the princess cocks an eyebrow up in confusion.

"i have one more dream of yours to bring to life"

before she could even question him, the boy turns to nod at the wedding bearer who smiled at him cheerfully. "i officially announce you husband and wife! you may now, kiss the bride!" the man exclaimed, followed by the blow of a loud whistle he had taken out of his cloak. "what?" the girl was cut off as her groom pulled her into his chest, both hands against her face as their lips smashed into each other's. their eyes were closed for a moment, basking into the loving atmosphere before they separated. yn's eyes opened, a gasp escaping her lips at the new scene that surrounded her.

about a thousand blue butterflies had been released, fluttering over the whole garden, decorating the skies of their reception. she turns to face him, the tears just a second away from bursting out of her eyes. "remember..." he says, moving closer to wrap his arms around her waist. "you once told me that something you really really wanted at our wedding..." both their eyes wandered off to the sky, "a billion blue butterflies...i couldn't get a billion, so please make do with the thousand" the boy laughs but yn can't hold it in anymore, a single droplet dripping from the side of her glossy eyes. leehan chuckled, cupping her face and wiping away her tears. "i love you, my queen" and she just smiles, leaning her forehead against his, a butterfly landing against her shoulder.

"i love you too, my king"

the guests all stand up to cheer, as did the residents of the kingdom that still stood crowding the outside of the palace. the parents of the newly wedded couple get up as well, embracing each other and their children in hugs and kisses, joyous at the joining of their families through the young love of their off-springs.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

the newly weds watched from a corner as their guests continued to dance and drink till the skies got dark, giggling softly as they caught mildred and edmund dancing in tears together across the room. yn shivers slightly, the wind of the evening brushing against her bare shoulders. leehan smiles, taking off the blazer of his suit and gently wrapping it around her. "thank you" she says, leaning her head against his side. "no problem, love" he replies, placing a hand on her back.

"the butterflies were amazing, i can't believe you remembered that" the girl laughs, her gaze now fixed onto angel, who was busy trying to claw at one of the pretty insects. "i'm glad you liked them, they were a pain to organize though" he complains playfully, nuzzling his nose against her hair causing the crown on her head to tilt off to the side. "it's perfect" she says, eyes trailing around to follow the way her guests waltzed around the area. he's doing the same, glancing to the scene and then back at her every now and then. "yeah...." he starts, voice quieting down before picking back up again. "it's missing something though..." leehan says, turning fully to his wife who began to nod along with him, as if she knew exactly what her husband was thinking. and then they opened their mouths at the same time, giggling when the exact same silly sentence left their smiley mouths.

"the hundred tier chocolate cake."

the future king takes his future queen's hand in one of his own, the other one pointing towards the dance floor. "your highness, may i please have this dance?" leehan speaks in a so-called heroic voice, his chest puffed out the same he used to when they played make-believe together as kids. yn giggles, nodding along to her husband's act and playing along with him.

"of course, your majesty"

and they lived happily ever after...

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

MOMMY I WANT MY OWN PRINCE LEEHAN 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 hope u guys enjoyed this silly fairytale <3 hehe they're such a cute royal couple but also prayers for the kingdom they're about to rule together.....TT reblogs n feedbacks r always appreciated!! tysm for reading! love, kona.

#kona's work ♡#boynextdoor #boynextdoor drabbles #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x reader #leehan #leehan x reader #boynextdoor leehan #bnd x reader #bnd leehan #kim leehan #kim donghyun

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into-the-grey · 3 months ago

Text

~It's Raining, It's Pouring~

Noah x F!Reader fic

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Mild Smut and some Angst

Sometimes, people are just meant to be in each others lives. And sometimes, magic happens.

Warnings: mentions of SH, allusions towards Suicide, allusions towards abusive family, mentions of death, brief smut (theyre both 18 by this point), high school, mental illness, panic attack, divorce, mild jealousy

WC: 13.2k

Taglist: @wh0th3h3llisbucky @blend-in-with-the-madness

RIP my YouTube history, I think I played It’s Raining, It’s Pouring by Anson Seabra for 7 hours straight working on this. Also, the tense probably changes a few times because I never write in second person, I apologise for that, still learning a bit. It might go from past to present tense and back again a few times. This is a new format, and a new way of writing for me, so let's see how it goes.

Fic Masterlist

Alright; ON WITH THE SHOW

Once upon a time, there were two people. Those two people were star-crossed, fated, meant to be. All of the romantic stories could have been about them. It wasn't a grand adventure for him to find her, and he didn't have to save her from a dragon. And she had never been locked in a tower, or forced into slavery by an evil step-mother.

No.

No, it was much simpler than that.

You. You were the one who lived in the house down the street. The house that he rode past every day on his bike when he was young. You were the one he used to see in the neighbourhood, playing with your friends and climbing the tree at the end of the block that all the kids were convinced was a magic wishing tree.

You were the one who came to school with notes in your lunchbox from your mom and knew that you were loved.

And him? He was the kid with the witch for a mom. She wasn't really a witch, but she scared a lot of the kids on the block. She would stand in the street, yelling for him to come home, and if he didn't show up, she'd give up and lock him out for the night. He was the one who came to school with bags under his eyes wearing the same hoodie he'd been wearing for a week.

He was the one who would look at all the kids around him, wishing he could be like you.

You found him in the wishing tree once. That day, you ran down the block, adamant that the tree would help you pass a test in your fourth grade science class. As an adult, you know how stupid you were, but back then it was the most obvious answer.

He was in the tree, high up in it's branches. He huddled in on himself as the cold wind whipped against his skin. He was alone, but his lips moved as tears rolled slowly down his cheeks. His bloodshot eyes fixed on you as you climbed higher, his lips pressing into a thin line as he watched you nervously.

You didn't hesitate for a second.

'Hi,' you said brightly, seeing his pain. You didn't know how to help him, and your eight year old brain couldn't imagine the gravity of his troubles. All you were sure of was that he was there, and he was upset. 'What are you wishing for?'

'Nothing.' His lie was blunt, and his eyes flitted away from you as he sniffed hard against his tears. He drew his heels in under himself as he perched on the thickest branch, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees while he shivered.

'Oh,' you said softly. 'I was going to wish for help on my test tomorrow. It's a science test and I suck at science. But, if you want, I can wish for whatever you were wishing for? It might help to have more than one person wishing for it?'

He scoffed, his deep brown eyes looking you over quickly before returning his hard stare back to his purpling fingers.

'A science test? Why didn't you just study?' he asked, his voice low. His hard shell seemed to crack as he glanced back at you a few times.

'I got distracted,' you admitted. 'A lot. Focussing is kind of hard for me, my mom says I have attention problems, but my dad thinks I'm just making it up to get people to feel sorry for me.' You leaned against a branch, tugging awkwardly at the sleeves of your pale blue hoodie. 'Sometimes my brain goes too fast though, and I can't read or I say stupid things that I don't mean. It's embarrassing.'

'Like offering a wish to a stranger?' he said, a snip in his voice. The words cut through you, stinging as you digested them. Your lip jutted out in a pout as you felt your gut twisting from his insult.

'Yeah,' you nodded sadly 'I guess...'

Your turned dejectedly, wishing silently for the boy to learn some manners, and grabbing the branch to lower yourself down.

'Wait,' he called. Your head snapped back to him, seeing him staring at you. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean it.'

You smiled weakly up at him, and after a brief pause, you made your choice. You scaled the branches and hauled yourself up to his level. As you reached him, you sat on the only other branch that stays steady under your weight, just above him in the dying leaves. The cool breeze rustled through the leaves, a few coming loose and drifting around you while the sky above darkened.

'I'm Y/N,' you said, pulling your hood up to protect you from the chill. Your introduction sounded eager, like you were asking for something. Mentally you kicked yourself, but he seemed receptive.

'I know, I've seen you at school,' he told you, shifting slightly to face you. He chewed the inside of his lip while he wiped his sleeves over his face, trying to erase the traces of his tears. No matter how hard he wiped, there was no way for him to erase the hollow sadness in his eyes. The moment you saw it, you knew there was more to this boy than he let on.

'I've seen you too. You're in Miss Forson's class, right?' you asked. You watched him nod slowly.

'Yeah. My name is Noah. You've probably heard it being yelled down the street enough times...'

'That's your mom, isn't it? The one who stands on the lawn yelling?'

Noah nodded, his cheeks flushing red and hanging his head. He clenched his fists and sniffed again, tears welling in his eyes.

'Yeah, that's her.'

'You're hiding from her, right?' you prodded.

'Yeah,' he said, his voice thick as he swallowed down the pain welling in his chest.

'Do you do that a lot?'

He nodded again, unable to look at you now. Your face fell, watching him picking at his nails and seeing his lip quiver.

'If you want, my mom would probably let you stay at my house? We could play my playstation for a while?' you offered. 'But, you gotta help me with my science test, just for a little while so my mom thinks you're not just there to distract me.' You giggled when you saw the corner of his lips lift into a smile. A sad one, but a smile nonetheless.

'Are you sure?' he asked timidly, looking at you with a glint of hope. 'I'm not really good at science...'

'That's okay, I'm not really good at playstation,' you told him.

A fat raindrop fell through the branches and the leaves, landing smack dab on your head with a pronounced 'plop'. You reached for your hair, feeling the wet spot and giggling more.

More raindrops fell, slowly turning the sidewalk below into a picture of grey polka dots. Noah followed your gaze, seeing the drops colouring in the concrete.

'I guess it's better than being out here in the rain,' he agreed, finally releasing his knees from his vice grip and stretching out to reach the branch below him to begin his descent. You smiled at him, following his lead and dropping off your branch.

Once you were on solid ground and you had a moment, you looked at him. Shaggy brown hair hung in his warm hazel eyes. A light dusting of freckles covered his nose, and a gentle smile lifted his pink lips. He stood only just taller than you, maybe an inch? An inch and a half at most.

You offered him your hand, leading him down the street towards your house. He walked slowly, letting the raindrops fall on the both of you. Normally, you'd run for home to get out of the rain, but something about him made the rain less intimidating. You felt safe with him the moment you saw him in that tree.

What you didn't know was that he felt safe with you too. A stark contrast to how things were at home. Noah had a strained relationship with his mom, and he never told you just how bad things were, but you knew it was worse than he let on.

He found solace in you and your home. Your mom welcomed him in, knowing exactly who he was and who his mom was. Noah's mom was known around the street, and a few of the parents in the neighbourhood were familiar with Noah's hiding spots. They would all keep a quiet eye on him whenever they saw him near their houses, knowing that someone had to.

When you brought him home to your mom, she didn't question anything. The two of you stood on the front doorstep, dripping and cold, and all your mom did was laugh and find you two the biggest fluffiest towels in the house. She brought you inside and found you a change of clothes, letting Noah have one of your oversized pokemon t-shirts and a pair of your dad's old gym shorts.

Your dad wasn't happy about it, but your mom shut him up. Never in front of you or Noah though. She wouldn't dare fight with your dad in front of the two of you, but you didn't miss the pointed glares she would shoot at him over the dinner table when your dad would make a remark.

Noah became a staple in your house, feeling safer there than at home. You liked having him there too, he was a lot smarter than he let on, and he was funny. Plus, he was really good at the playstation, he could help you beat the tougher levels. He even completed Crash Bandicoot for you when you got stuck on the hog riding level. And yes, he helped you with your science test, and you passed.

Some nights, Noah would sneak in through the dog door in the laundry and creep into your room. The first time he did it, it scared the hell out of you, but you got used to it quickly. Those nights were hard. He would wake you up in tears, but he would never tell you why. And when he did, you would simply scooch over and let him into the bed, rubbing his back while he cried himself to sleep.

Your dad would always ask who left the dog door open. Your mom never admitted it, but there were a few nights that you caught her unlocking it before she went to bed.

You two grew up together. Joined at the hip, you went everywhere together, did everything together...

And then high school happened. The first year was supposed to be exciting, you were meant to be enjoying life and all the perks that came with being high schoolers. Instead, your parents got a divorce.

Noah held you while you cried, fearing that your dad would try and make you move to Topeka with him. He mourned the breaking apart of your family with you, and he kept you distracted by playing video games with you or by hiding in the wishing tree with you.

Your mom gave him a key to the house the day your dad moved out, telling him he didn't need to sneak through the dog door anymore. He hugged your mom, unable to find the words to thank her. She even cleared out your dad's study and turned it into a bedroom for him.

Then came the awkward "talk". Your mom sat you down on the couch one day when Noah wasn't there, telling you that while she understood you two were close, that sex is a big deal and if you're not ready, then you can always tell him no.

She didn't judge, but she taught you all about protection, and asked that you wait until you were sure.

You laughed at her, telling her that there was no way you'd ever have sex with Noah. He was your best friend, and you told her you didn't feel that way about him. She just smirked at you, nodding and saying 'okay.'

But when you went to bed that night, you couldn't help thinking about it. You felt weird as you laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling with the images of Noah on top of you flashing through your mind.

Maybe you did feel that way, but you would never dare tell him.

That night, when Noah crept into your room, you comforted him and you felt butterflies as you held him. Silently, you cursed your mother for making you think about him that way, but you didn't let on that anything had changed.

At school, you joined music class with Noah, and he found something in himself. You watched him beam whenever he touched a keyboard or picked up a guitar. Lyrics seemed to flow from him like a fountain. He was magical.

You wished you were as good as him. But through music, he found his friend Nick. Nick was nice, and he hung out with you guys at lunch, but at the end of the day, Noah would come home to you. You tried to like Nick, but you couldn't help that teenage bubble of jealousy as he and Noah bonded over something that you just couldn't do.

And then Noah left. He just stopped coming to school.

The first day, you texted him and asked him where he was. He was blunt, telling you he wasn't coming. You assumed that he was just sick, or skipping for the day. But one day turned into two. Two became three. Three became a week. A week became a month.

After that, you knew to just let him sleep when you got up in the mornings. At least he was still in your room, still with you.

He got a job to fill his days, working at Nick's family's tattoo studio. Noah wasn't the art type, he couldn't really draw, so he never picked up a tattoo gun, but the money wasn't bad. He would bring you little trinkets and gifts sometimes. He even saved up to buy himself a car. It was an absolute piece of shit, but it ran, it got good gas mileage, and it had a stereo.

Then came the nights where you would drive around aimlessly, discovering more and more of Richmond as you belted out the words to any song you knew. Sometimes Nick would come with you, but you liked it better when it was just you and Noah.

He was growing up, and you loved seeing who he was becoming. He was still the awkward introverted boy you knew, but he was blossoming into a musician. Your mom even bought him a guitar one christmas, making him cry. Because he could finally practice again, he found his way into a cover band. You were their number one fan, and your mom was a close second. She cheered him on in any way she could.

You kept going to school though. You didn't have a choice, you weren't good enough at anything to take the creative path. Every day you wished Noah was there, but you did your best without him. Class was harder without him. It had been years of the two of you side by side, Noah helping you to understand the questions that didn't make sense to you. He would even read the questions aloud to you if you needed it. Now, your grades were slipping. You didn't have your support system, and no one else seemed to believe that it was that hard.

He would help with your homework, but it was getting harder. He'd never learned the subject matter, so he could only do so much. You'd let him read your textbooks, but sometimes neither of you understood what the hell the textbooks were talking about.

One night, a particular project had overstressed you. He held you while you cried, running his fingers through your hair while you tried to compose yourself.

'I can't fucking do this,' you choked, your arms around him while he rested his chin on your head. When did he get so tall?

'You can, it's just your brain,' he shushed you, his voice soft and his arms strong as he held you together. 'There's too much going on in there, isn't there?'

'There always is, you know that,' you told him, letting him sit you down on the side of your bed.

'And what do we normally do about it?' he asked gently, holding your hands and squeezing lightly. As he sat in front of you, you found yourself staring at him, your mouth hanging open while you panted through the tears.

He had the beginnings of a sleeve colouring his arm, the ink peeking out under his three-quarter sleeves. A shiny dermal piercing sat in his cheek, glinting under the low light of your bedside lamp. His warm brown hair hung down almost to his chest, always a layered mess.

But his eyes, those warm brown eyes. They were still the eyes of that boy from so many years ago, searching for comfort in yours. Offering you comfort with him. In them, you could see how much your pain hurt him, and how hard he tried to hide it.

'I don't know if can talk about it,' you whimpered, your gaze shifting to his hands. His long, slender fingers, wrapped up in your shorter, pinker ones. His thumb grazed over your knuckle supportively.

'There's nothing you can't tell me,' he said, both gently and firmly. 'What's different now?'

'Everything.'

'Y/N...' he whispered, shuffling closer. His hands ran gingerly up your arms, and you couldn't help flinching. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as heavy tears blurred your vision. You were thankful, you didn't want to see the pain in his eyes as realisation dawned on him.

'Why?' he asked. You knew he knew. It had been a while since you'd done that. You'd been clean since your dad gave up on trying to move you to Topeka. You hadn't needed it...

But school, the projects, the frustration of your brain not working right...

You hadn't felt good enough in a long time. Like something in you was broken. And even though you could normally talk to Noah about these things, Noah had found his people. He found his thing, the thing he was good at. You didn't have that. You were convinced he wouldn't understand anymore.

'I'm not right. I can't do the things everyone else can do,' you whispered. 'My grades are going to shit, and everyone thinks I'm just being lazy, but I just can't fucking do it. No one believes me-' you tell him, crumpling in on yourself as your voice breaks. 'I'm fucking def-fective,' you coughed.

Noah grabbed you, pulling you into his chest and holding you tightly, whispering into your ear.

'You are not defective. You are not lazy, or broken, or any of that bullshit. It's not your fault,' he told you, swaying you back and forth in his grip while he buried his nose in your hair.

'I-' you tried to start, but he shushes you, knowing whatever you were going to say would be negative.

'No, you are the kindest, smartest, most hard-working person I know,' he told you. 'You care so fucking much about other people. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here, that's for sure. It's not your fault that you can't always figure out what the fuck those textbooks say. They're stupid fucking books anyway, written by snooty old guys with nothing better to do than write rules about how numbers should work or brag about how war is great when you win one.'

'Noah-'

'Nope, I'm not done,' he stopped you. 'You don't need to think like them. You think like you, and the way you think is magical. You are so special, and that's what matters. You might not be great at science or math, but you make the most amazing paintings I've ever seen. You write the best stories, and you sing better than half the guys who auditioned for my band. Don't you ever doubt yourself, okay?'

His arms lock tighter around you as his voice hitches in his throat. You nod against him, your arms around his narrow chest. His width had yet to catch up to his height, he was still skinny as anything, but he still gave fantastic hugs.

'I'm sorry-' you try to say, but again, he stops you.

'You. Are. Incredible,' he tells you, punctuating each word as he finds your face and looks at your bloodshot and puffy eyes. 'And you are everything to me, got it? Please, don't ever take yourself away from me like that. I care about you way too much to lose you to that.'

You nod, releasing an arm and wiping your face with your sleeve.

'Y/N,' he breathes, 'I mean it. Please, don't go anywhere.'

Your heart breaks as his firm voice slips, instead pleading with you now.

'I promise,' you tell him, swallowing hard past the lump in your throat. 'I care about you too much to leave you behind.'

'Good.'

Pulling you back into a tight hug, he doesn't tell you that he meant more with those words than you understood. He had for a while. And so had you. Both of you caught in the limbo of what you each thought were unrequited feelings, and neither one of you brave enough to tell the other about the butterflies in your bellies. Neither of you dared to speak the three words that your hearts yearned to say.

I care about you?

No.

I love you.

More than life itself.

Noah made a point to be around a lot more after that night. Sure, he was always around, but he slept in your bed a lot more after that. He watched as your long sleeves became tank tops, always checking to make sure the scars stayed scars.

He even offered to get Nick to tattoo you to cover them up, going as far as asking your mom if she would let you. To your dismay, your mom was against that idea. She let you get away with a lot, but an underage tattoo was toeing the line.

It didn't stop you from getting a tattoo though. It just meant you put it somewhere your mom wouldn't see it. You got Nick to tattoo it on the front of your hip, somewhere even a bikini would cover it.

A little tree, just like the one at the end of the block. Noah held your hand while the needle dragged across your skin, the bony parts hurting the worst. Nick chuckled while you squeezed your eyes shut tight and grimaced at the worst of it.

Finally, senior year rolled around. The best and worst year of your life.

Finally, someone believed you. At school, there was a new counsellor. She recognised something in you that no one else had. You called Noah the second she told you about the letters that changed your life.

ADHD.

That's why you had been struggling so much. That's why things never made sense the first time. Noah celebrated with you when you got home that afternoon, and he went with you to talk to your mom about it.

Your mom was just as excited for you to have an answer, agreeing to help you seek treatment. She couldn't get on the phone to your doctor fast enough. Finally, something made sense. A chance at normalcy...

Noah took you for a drive that night, the two of you sitting in the front seat of the car and screaming along to all the songs on your shared playlist. He drove you out to a lookout and the two of you watched the stars, talking about how different things could be.

He told you about his side project from his cover band, Man Vs Self. He was excited about it, and Nick was getting involved too, and Vincent. You weren't completely familiar with Vincent, but from the few encounters you'd had with him, he seemed nice enough.

He showed you some of the things he was working on for the band, and you had to admit, it was good. Not that you expected any less from him. Noah couldn't make something bad if he tried, it's like it was against his nature.

While you two sat there, you googled everything you could about ADHD, learning more about how your brain worked. A part of you mourned how your life could have been if you had been diagnosed earlier. Things could have been so different, so much easier..

But without the struggle, you never would have found Noah. And you wouldn't change that for the world, and neither would he.

If only things could be so simple forever.

But time marches ever onward, and life goes on.

Noah's band picked up. And after a while, you noticed him withdraw. There was something there, something he didn't want to tell you. Whenever you asked him what was bothering him, he would shy away from the topic, trying to change it quickly.

After a few weeks of pushing, you finally got the answer. He was leaving.

He cried as he told you, telling you he had been seriously considering backing out so he could stay with you. Knowing how much you needed him, it was killing him to choose between making this demo in Jersey or staying with you.

So you chose for him. You told him to go. You told him how much he would hate himself if he didn't try; that if he didn't go for it, he'd never know how far he could go.

You asked him how much time you had left. He told you that you had a month, and that he had no idea what would happen after. For that month, he worked his ass off on that demo, doing everything he could to have it ready to record, but he spent every night with you, promising you that this wasn't goodbye.

The night before he left, the two of you sat in the wishing tree and talked all night. He carved your names into the branches that you'd been sitting on when you met. He held your hand tightly, promising you that he'd come back.

And then he left. You and your mom stood on the driveway, sending him off with a bag of snacks and the tightest hug the two of you had ever shared before your mom came in with a group hug. She told Noah that she was proud of him, a phrase that brought tears to his eyes.

As he drove away in that cramped car, your mom kept her arm around you. The pair of you waved goodbye, watching him disappear down the road. You were thankful he didn't see the tears in your eyes as he disappeared around the corner.

Your mom held you together while you cried for most of the day. And that night, you snuck down to the wishing tree. You scaled its branches, climbing to the high branch that you sat on the day you met Noah and pulling your knees into your chest.

Silently, you whispered to the universe, making yet another wish.

You wished for his success, for him to be brave, and to push through anything this industry could throw at him. But most of all, you wished for him to come back.

Weeks passed, and the end of the school year drew closer. Promposals were exchanged at school, but no one asked you. Your friends all had dates, while you debated if you even wanted to go.

You told Noah as much on one of your nightly calls. You had fallen into a rhythm with him, waiting for him to call you when he was going to bed. Sometimes you had to call him, now that you had a job to fill your time.

It wasn't much, just stacking shelves at the local record store, but it paid better than fast food or waiting tables did.

As prom drew closer, you found Noah egging you to go. He even dared you once. You knew you couldn't say no to a dare, and your mom was more than willing to take you dress shopping.

She found you a beautiful dress, and it cost a small fortune, but she was adamant that you needed to go. Something about a 'rite of passage for a young woman' and 'regretting if you don't go.'

So you did. You went to prom, alone, in your beautiful forest green dress. The colour of the leaves on the wishing tree. And you hated every second of it. You stood in the back of the room, watching all the couples slow dancing while you sipped at a plastic cup of spiked punch.

Until a hand graced your arm.

'Care to dance?' he asked you. You turned, hope blooming in your chest.

But it wasn't him. It was someone else, Jacob? Joshua? You never learned this guy's name. He was a theatre kid with cropped black hair and too-tight skinny jeans. Sure, he was nice, but it wasn't Noah.

So you shook your head.

'Thanks, but I'm good. I was thinking I might head off.'

He just nodded at you, wandering off in search of a different dance partner.

And you did. You left, wandering out of the school gym and through the halls. You didn't cry, even though you really wanted to. You kicked your heels off and scooped them up as you walked through the quiet halls, the music echoing behind you as it seemed to taunt you.

Outside, the cool night air sunk into your skin, a welcome change from the stuffy air of the gym.

You were about to shortcut across the grass to get to the parking lot where you had parked the car. Your mom had loaned you hers for the evening, and you figured if she thought you were out for the night, she wouldn't mind if you went for a drive, as long as you put gas in it before returning it.

A car came careening into the lot as you stepped onto the wet lawn, grass sticking to your bare feet as you moved. The car came to a stop, and the engine silenced. His voice rang out across the parking lot, your head snapping over to him the moment you heard it.

Noah.

He slammed the car door, running over to you as fast as he could. Your heart stopped as you looked at him. He was dressed in a white button down with the sleeves rolled up, a black vest, and a skinny tie hanging from his neck.

You grinned, tears pricking at your eyes as you ran at him, throwing your shoes on the ground. You threw your arms around him and sank into his grip, feeling him hold you like his life depended on it.

'Were you leaving?' he asked as he squeezed you tightly, a hint of a laugh in his voice.

'I didn't have anyone to dance with,' you told him with a shrug. 'Plus, it's kinda crap in there, the music isn't even that good. You came a long way for nothing,' you joked.

'Definitely not nothing,' he told you, pulling back and looking down at you. You missed his eyes, and the way he smiled at you. Your heart fluttered as he grinned down at you.

'Oh?' you asked him, 'so what really made you come back? If the renowned draw of prom night sex wasn't the reason, it must be really good.'

He smirked as you teased him.

'Well, there's this girl I really like, and while I was gone the guys told me I should really talk to her and tell her how I feel about her. They had a point, so I was kind of hoping you could help me out with that?' He asked nervously.

You could feel his hands trembling as he laced his fingers with yours. You didn't dare let your smile falter. He couldn't know how much your heart was breaking at the idea of there being someone else.

'I mean, I can... but you've gotta tell me who she is before I can help,' you said, trying to keep that teasing tone in your voice.

Noah shook his head, chewing the inside of his lip nervously.

'She's probably the kindest, sweetest, funniest girl I've ever met. Y/N, I think I'm in love with her, I've just been too scared to tell her because I didn't want to lose her.'

'Noah-' you breathed, stepping back. You wanted so desperately to be right, but you needed to hear it from him. You watched as he took a deep breath, locking his eyes on yours.

'I love you, Y/N. So much.' he finally said, pulling you back to him and lifting his hand to your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat at his touch.

All those nights of picturing what it could be like, the tingles at his touch, the thoughts you had tried to squash, it all came flooding forward. There was no denying it now. You were desperately in love with him too, and you didn't need to hide it anymore. The butterflies were free, no longer being squashed down and digested. You felt like you could float as he drew nearer.

Your breath quickened, your hand running up his chest and resting over his heart. You could feel it hammering beneath your fingers as you smiled up at him. In his eyes, you could see his fear while he hung on every breath, waiting for your answer.

'I love you, Noah. You have no idea how much I love you.'

A relieved laugh left his lips, and he leaned in. His lips brushed yours. At first it was tender, learning how you felt, how you kissed. After a moment, the kiss became confident, your arm wrapped around his neck while his hand rested on your lower back, holding you to him.

His taste intoxicated you, and in seconds he became the addiction you knew you would never be able to break. He felt the same. He knew he would never be the same, in that moment you became his air.

A hissing sound broke you apart, and the pair of you looked around. You were still alone, and there were no obvious signs of where the noise was coming from.

Until the sprinklers started, the cold mist spraying over both of you. You squealed, jumping in his grip and feeling him pull you in tight against his chest as the two of you cried out.

He was the first to laugh, and you followed close behind. You had met in the rain, it was only right that you confessed your love for each other the same way, even if the rain wasn't real.

'My shoes!' you cried out, looking behind you to where your heels glinted under the haze of mist.

'I got it!' he told you, releasing you and running through the brunt of the spray. You couldn't help but laugh as his hair deflated while he scrambled across the slick grass, grabbing for the shoes.

He scooped them up and turned to run back to you, but you had other plans. Instead, as he turned, he crashed into your drenched form and his arms wrapped around you again.

Your lips crashed to his, putting all the feeling you had been holding back for years into the kiss. He kissed you just as passionately, and both of you giggled as the water soaked you both to the bone.

'When I said you're everything to me, I meant it,' he told you, his forehead resting on yours as he smiled at you.

'I wish I had said something before you left,' you said, letting him sway you gently.

'So do I. But, we're here now, and that's all that matters.'

'We should probably go and clean ourselves up though. My mom will kill me if I catch a cold from running around in the sprinklers.'

Noah chuckled, kissing you again before finally releasing you. He took your hand, leading you through the water and over to the car.

'I'll meet you at home? I have to take mom's car back.'

'Okay, but after that, I have somewhere I wanna take you, if you're up for it?'

You agreed, parting with a kiss and practically floating back to your mom's car.

The drive home was agonising, and the lights were all off when you got there. Your mom had gone to bed, expecting you to be out late. You entered the house quietly, tiptoeing across the tiles.

You left the keys on the kitchen counter, grabbing a change of clothes from a basket in the laundry and the two towels from all those years ago. They didn't seem as big or as fluffy anymore, but your mom had embroidered your names into them for you. She knew an origin story when she saw one, and she was sentimental, so naturally, she took it upon herself to hold onto memories for you.

You met Noah outside, clambering into his car and handing him the towel. He grinned like a little kid when he saw it, remembering everything with you.

He wrapped the towel around his shoulders before setting off. The whole drive, all you did was talk. He told you about the demo, you told him about work and school, everything felt so normal. Normal, except for the buzz of adrenaline in the pit of your stomach, the cool rush that you felt every time he took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles.

After a while, he pulled into the parking lot of a hotel, grinning as he turned the car off.

'I figured that most people have some kind of after-party, why shouldn't we have our own?' He said, a sheepish grin on his face.

You laughed, shaking your head at him. He lead you from the car and through the hotel, the two of you looking dreadfully out of place in the gilded lobby in your drenched clothes and fuzzy towels. The concierge even giggled quietly as she watched you get in the elevator.

The room itself was fancier than any hotel you'd ever stayed in, and you wondered how he paid for it. You didn't ask, deciding to just enjoy it. As soon as the door closed, Noah tugged you close to him again, gazing down into his eyes with the sweetest smile on his face. If he kept looking at you like that, you knew you could die happy.

'Say it again?' You asked him quietly, your lips hovering just in front of his.

With a soft chuckle, he happily obliged. 'I love you, Y/N.'

'I love you,' you whispered, letting the space between you disappear again.

He was gentle when he stripped the dress off of you, draping it over a chair to let it dry. You were just as gentle about unbuttoning his vest and his shirt. Together you found your way to the shower, letting the warm water erase the chill from your bones.

Being naked in front of him felt strange, but his tender kisses made it easier. For a while, you stood under the water, wrapped in his embrace. Your head tucked perfectly under his chin, and every now and again he would nose into your hair, leaving feather-light kisses on the skin of your neck. If the water hadn't gone cold, you might have stayed there forever.

He wrapped you in your towel before finding his own. Your heart pounded as you watched him, looking over his growing collection of tattoos and the scars on his back. He caught you watching, and stepped closer to you with a look in his eye.

He reached for you, his fingers running over the scars on your bicep. Together, you were beautifully broken, and together you could build a whole new type of perfect. As you stepped into his embrace, you felt safe. You felt loved. You felt whole.

You were the one who lead him to the bedroom.

He was just as nervous, and both of you giggled as the towels came off. Neither of you had done this before, but it felt right to be doing it with each other.

You paid heed to your mother's warning, thankful to be on the pill, and you were sure you were ready.

He laid you down on the bed, and Noah positioned himself between your legs, slowly pushing himself into you, groaning as he felt your body accept him.

You breathed through the feeling, a sting burning through you as he froze in place and waited for your signal.

'You okay?' He asked as he saw your face screw up in discomfort.

'Mhmm,' you hummed, 'just getting used to it.'

'For what it's worth, you feel so much better than I ever imagined,' he breathed, kissing your collarbone and up your neck. His words reverberated through you, making you clench around him.

He smirked, taking your face in his hand. 'You like dirty talk?' He asked, surprised and fascinated to learn about what turned you on.

'A little,' you admitted as you held his bicep.

'So if I said something like...' he smirked, dipping low and hovering his lips just next to your ear, his voice barely a whisper, 'you're mine. Only mine. This pussy? It's mine, and I won't stop until you're out of breath and the neighbours know my name.'

He grinned, sucking in a sharp breath and feeling your muscles contract around him, lusciously squeezing him.

'You're so tight, baby, and so wet. Is this all because of me?'

You couldn't help the soft moan as he spoke, beginning to roll his hips against you. The feeling was heavenly despite the stretching feeling. You'd been warned that the first time could hurt, and it was easily bearable.

'Noah,' you whimpered, running your fingers across his skin.

'Does it feel good, baby? God, you feel so good,' he continued, rutting into you slowly. His thrusts were firm, exploring deeper than you'd ever been able to with your fingers.

You dragged his face back to yours, kissing him deeply. Noah happily followed your lead, letting you swipe your tongue over his as you moaned into his mouth.

'Fuck,' you hissed, your back arching. You wanted more, but you were too scared to show him what you needed. You didn't want him to feel inadequate, or think he was doing something wrong, but your clitoris screamed for attention. Your hand kept inching lower, but you couldn't help the anxiety in your stomach.

'Tell me, baby,' he purred, always able to read you. 'Show me.' He took your hand, guiding it between your bodies and resting his fingers atop yours.

You began to draw timid circles over the little nub, feeling Noah trace your movements to learn how you liked it.

You whined his name, and you felt his dick twitch inside you.

'Noah, please,' you begged, 'I think I'm close.'

'Me too, Y/N,' he panted, his cheeks red and his forehead slick with sweat. 'I want to watch you come. I wanna see how good I can be to you.'

The tingles started small, but the more you circled your clitoris, the stronger it became. Whines and groans left your lips, Noah mirroring the sounds.

His gasps were almost enough to have you, but what broke you was the way he said your name. His breathy cries for you as he sped up and reached his peak, sighing and closing his eyes while your body tensed around his.

He emptied himself into you, and you eked it out of him. You'd heard that it was rare to experience an orgasm during your first time, let alone a mutual one, but it happened, and it was so much better than using your fingers.

Noah laid on top of you, breathless. His eyes fluttered closed while he gasped for air, his panting tickling your nipple as he laid his head on your chest.

'I love you,' he told you between deep lungfuls of air.

'I love you,' you repeated, grinning and exhausted, running your fingers through his still wet hair.

If only that night could have lasted forever.

Fate was cruel like that. Fate, and Sumerian Records.

Man vs Self, then called CHLDRN got signed, becoming Bad Omens... You were ecstatic, celebrating with him and Nick and Vincent. Part of you was less thrilled, knowing this meant he would be gone again.

He promised you it wouldn't be for long, only a few weeks at a time. You believed him. But weeks didn't stay weeks.

Weeks became months, and months became moving to LA.

He promised you that he would come home and visit. He swore to you that he would pay to fly you out and you could stay with him. He would text you every day and call you every night, telling you how much he missed you and how much he loved you.

No matter how much you wanted it to be, nightly phone calls and texting weren't enough. Every time it rained, your heart ached for him. You missed his touch, his embrace.

And then the contact started to wane. You would lie awake, waiting for him to call or text you after a show, and some nights he would, but those nights grew further apart.

You would text him first, and you'd be left with no answer.

Your mom watched your heart break in real time. She understood the pain, and she missed Noah too. She felt like she had lost her son. She did all she could to help you cope, but you just felt hollow, like barely a shell of yourself.

Every now and again you would hear from him, and it would tear open that wound again. Finally, you had to call it what it was.

Dead.

You called him, knowing that this phone call would be the hardest call you'd ever had to make. You told him that no matter how much you loved him, you couldn't handle the heartache. His home wasn't with you anymore, and you couldn't have a home with him. Not right now.

He begged you to reconsider. He told you he'd throw it all away for you. You told him he was being stupid, and that he would never throw it all away, and if he did, he'd miss it too much. He'd regret it. Sure, the words sounded pretty, but he would never be able to walk away. Not fully. Nor would you ever want him to.

You told him that he was too talented and too good to walk away. He needed to stick with the band. So he did. And he hated it for a while. He wrote songs about how much he hated it, but none of those ever made the albums.

Well, one did.

It was embellished, sure, but you knew which lines were about you. And you hoped against hope that no matter how much he wanted to, that he wasn't watching you from afar. You knew his heart couldn't take that strain. He'd already been through so much. He needed to move on and live for himself now.

You found yourself in the tree one night, wishing he would be okay. You never wished for yourself anymore, but any wish you could make for him, he had it. Success, stability, love, you wanted it all for him. You could make do on your own.

So you did. It killed you when his name came up on your socials, seeing the articles about the band, and about him. You missed him more than anything. But you forced yourself to continue on with your life. The ADHD medication made it easier to function, so when you decided to go to university, you managed it a lot easier than you thought you would.

There were still nights that you wished he was there to read the questions to you. Or nights that you broke down in tears because the pressure was too much. Every time you reached the end of that rope, you remembered your promise to him, and you stepped away from the medicine cabinet.

Noah came to town once. His long hair had been cropped short, and his once spindly build had filled out. You thought about going to the show, but you couldn't bring yourself to go. Your mom even asked if you should go together, but you told her that if you did you'd only have to start the healing process over again. She was understanding, but you knew she wanted to go. She missed him too, after all.

More time passed, whizzing by in a blur of study, work, and long nights. Your mom watched your heart heal and break again every time his name was mentioned on the radio or in a news article.

One night, she sat you down on the couch like she had that night she gave you the "talk". Her skin had begun to sag, and her hair was greying, but you still saw the same look in her eye. That knowing look, the one that knew all your secrets.

'Y/N, honey, you've got to do something. You're not getting over him,' she told you. 'It's been almost two years.'

'I know,' you told her pathetically, curling into her side like a child. She rubbed your arm, comforting you.

'I have an idea that I wanted to run by you,' she said, her tone soft and warm. 'I'm almost ready to retire, and I think I want to retire somewhere sunny. I like the rain, but I'm ready for something new...'

You looked at her, an eyebrow cocked as you caught that mischeivous smirk on her lips.

'Mom...' you said slowly.

'I found a nice house, and with what this place is worth, we could easily afford it if we sell. You're almost finished with school, and there's plenty of job options for you-'

'And you want to move to LA?' you asked her incredulously, sitting up and searching her face for a hint of a joke. You found none. She was completely serious. 'Mom, this isn't some small move down the street, you're talking about moving across the country.'

She nodded, laughing at you. 'I know, sweetheart. But I mean it. I want something new, I've lived in this house for too long. I know it's your home, but once upon a time, it was mine and your father's. We bought it shortly after we got married, and there are days that I still expect to see him sitting on the couch when I get home from work. I still feel like he's here, even though he's been gone for so long. I need to move on from him, and I don't think I can do that here.'

You chewed your lip, looking at your hands. Sometimes it was easy to forget that your mom was a person too. She had her own life, her own story, her own feelings. It had been a long time since your dad left, and it was easy enough to forget that your mom had spent nearly twenty years with him. He was her Noah. Sure, in the end, he turned out to be an uncaring ass, but there had to be something there that she'd loved in the start, and now she couldn't let go of it. Just like you couldn't let go of Noah.

'Okay,' you told her. 'Show me this house?'

She did. She showed you the house, and it was perfect. A quaint little three bedroom townhouse in a quiet community, a thirty minute drive from the city. You fell in love with it the minute you saw it.

Things moved quickly after that night. Your mom put the house on the market, and when you weren't working or studying, you were packing. You found so many memories as you boxed up everything you owned. It didn't take long for the house to sell. It wasn't until the sold sign adorned your front yard that it finally sank in.

You were saying goodbye to your childhood.

The place looked strange without all your things in it. You remembered all of the nights you spent with Noah in your room, whispering about stupid things to make each other laugh. You remembered the sound of his guitar drifting from the room that was once his, even though he almost never slept in there. You had to patch the hole in the wall from when you had tried to slide down the hall in your socks and you slipped, coming crashing down through the plaster.

You remembered sitting around the dinner table, telling your dad about the picture you had drawn at school that day. Or showing off how much better your grades had gotten since Noah started to help you with your homework.

Most painful of all, you had to say goodbye to the tree.

For old times sake, you hauled yourself up into its branches, searching for the carving of your names on the trunk. You had labelled your branches, but after the night in the hotel, Noah joined your names in a heart on the trunk where the two branches met.

For the last time, you made a wish. You weren't sure you believed in it anymore, but that childish wonder in your heart refused to let go of the possibility. You whispered your wish, letting it go with the wind that rustled the leaves.

And then the frenzy began. The movers took all the boxes, packing them into a huge truck with all your furniture, and you got in the car. You told your mom to fly ahead, not wanting her to drive across the country. She was too easily worn out for such an adventure, and there was too much to do, you needed her to save her energy for unpacking and setting up.

So you drove across the country alone, just you and your mom's car. You sold the beater you had bought with your money from the record store. It wasn't going to make the trip, and you could find something better when you had a new job.

You stopped at motels, sleeping more fitfully the closer you got to LA. Your mind spun with possibilities. What would you do? Would you call him? Text him? Would you even reach out?

What if he had a new girlfriend? What if he hated you for ending things? What if he wasn't your Noah anymore?

Each night you tossed and turned, and each day you tried desperately to drown out the noise in your mind with music and podcasts. Finally, after nearly a week of non-stop driving and gas station sandwiches, you reached the exit for Los Angeles. Your new home.

You followed the GPS to your new house, seeing your mom outside with the moving truck. She was helping to take boxes into the house, even though the movers brought the couch in first for her to sit down. She insisted on helping, but that was what your mom was like.

You parked on the street, getting out of the car and stretching your weary legs. Who would have thought sitting still for so long would be so exhausting. The sun had started to dip in the sky, bathing the street in a warm golden glow. You took in your new surroundings for a moment, noting the difference in the smell of the air, the warm breeze, and the lack of trees. There were only a few trees in the street, most of them small. One house had a large tree in the front yard, and it reminded you of the wishing tree. Smiling to yourself, you were glad something felt like home.

Your mom had told the movers to put your bed in first, which you were thankful for. You made your way to your new room, stretching out on the unmade mattress and letting your spine decompress for a little while.

It took a couple of weeks to set up the house how you wanted it, and it took a few more weeks to find a job, but soon enough, you were an official LA working girl. You had a desk job, you paid stupid amounts of money to park fifteen minutes away from your office, and you thrived on coffee, but you were doing it. You were living.

You still hadn't called him. You wanted to, but fear got the better of you every time you typed in his number. Your thumb would hover over the green button for stupid amounts of time, and then you would lock your phone and put it down.

You never thought it would go the way it did.

You came home from work one cloudy afternoon, climbing out of your mom's car and heading to the mailbox. A cool breeze nipped at your arms while you sifted through the mail. While you sorted the bills from the junk, a large black pickup pulled into the street. It was the first time you had seen it move since you moved in. For the last month it had been stationary on a driveway a few doors down.

It crawled past your house, slowing down as it passed by. For a moment, you tensed, ready to run or fight, whatever you needed to do, but then it moved on. It rolled into the driveway you had become accustomed to seeing it at, the house with the large tree in the front yard.

The loud rumble of the engine ceased, and as you were about to turn and head inside, a voice called out to you.

'Y/N!?' the deep voice bellowed, echoing down the street.

You froze.

His footsteps approached, his sneakers pouding against the asphalt as he crossed the street and stepped closer.

'Y/N...' he breathed, stopping a few feet away from you.

You looked up at him with your heart in your throat. His hair was still short, but it had grown out since you last saw him. A hint of stubble graced his chin and his lip, making him look so much more grown up than the weedy little teenager you remembered from prom. And his muscles...

He truly was a man now.

'Noah,' you whispered, your voice gone as you stared at him in disbelief.

He seemed to be having the same problem, stammering as he inched closer to you. 'You're... you're here?' he asked, his tone bewildered, asking the how and why without the need to say them.

'Mom retired, she wanted to get away from the memories of dad,' you told him with a shrug. You could barely bring yourself to meet his eye. Your throat tightened as you got a glimpse of the warm brown that you had missed so much. 'She missed you too, I think that's why she came here.'

'I miss her too,' he said sadly, 'she was the only parent I really had.'

Bit by bit, he stepped closer, closing the distance between you.

'I'm sure she'd love to see you,' you offered quietly, 'if you're not busy?'

'I don't think I'm busy,' he told you, smirking. Your stomach backflipped, and your fingers itched to know his skin again.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. You knew you needed to rip the band-aid off and just say it.

As you finally blurted out the words, his voice melded with yours.

'I missed you,' you both said.

Pausing, you looked at each other. You finally met his eyes. In that warm gaze, you saw all the love you had seen when you were young. All the longing that you felt was mirrored in him. His cheeks flushed, and you became aware of the heat in your own face as the pair of you laughed.

'I'm sorry,' you told him, taking a step closer to him. He was within reach now, you could have easily brushed his hair from his eyes, or taken his hand.

'For what?' he asked, closing the distance further.

'For ending things. I thought it hurt to miss you when I had you, and then I didn't anymore... I've never felt so alone... I should have just waited-'

'No, Y/N, you did what you needed to. And it would have only gotten worse from there anyway. We didn't get a break for years. With or without you, I never would have seen you.'

He lifted his hand to rest on the bare skin of your arm, admiring the tattoo that covered the scars on your bicep. Your body tingled under his touch, your resolve weakening.

'I'm glad to see that chapter is closed,' he said softly. 'It is, right?'

'Yeah,' you assured him. 'I got close a few times, but I remembered what I promised you and I just couldn't.'

'Good,' he breathed.

You were so close now, his head tilted down to look at you, and you could almost feel his breath on your skin. A cool breeze blew over you, making you shiver. The sound of thunder rolled across the sky, and you couldn't help but laugh as a heavy raindrop smacked on his head, making him flinch.

'Why is it that every time we find each other, it rains?' you mused, grinning up at him.

'Or there's sprinklers?' He added with a smirk.

As the rain fell in slow, fat drops dotting the sidewalk, you felt your heart twist. His hand moved, raising to your cheek. Your eyes welled up, too many emotions filling you.

'I never stopped loving you,' he told you. 'I missed you, and I thought about you every single day.'

'So did I,' you admitted. 'I couldn't stop.'

'And now, here you are...' he said.

'Here we are.'

His lips finally touched yours, and thunder cracked overhead. The sky opened, the rain falling faster, masking the tears on your cheeks as you melted into him. In a matter of moments you were drenched, but you didn't care.

'Never let me go again,' he begged you between heated kisses.

'Never.'

Your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him to you. Your hearts pounded against each other's as your chests pressed together. There wasn't enough of him, you needed everything he could give you. You wanted to wrap yourself in him and never let go.

When the thunder seemed to be overhead, he released you, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the front doorstep of your house. His beautiful smile set something in you alight, a fire you thought you had lost a long time ago.

He rang the doorbell, holding you close to his side, his fingers laced tight in yours. After a moment, your mom appeared at the door with a broad grin and the two towels in her hands.

'It's about time,' she said, handing the large fluffy towels over to you, ensuring you each had the towel with your own name embroidered on it.

'You were watching out the window, weren't you?' you asked her with a laugh.

'You were taking forever to get the mail, I was curious,' she told you innocently, 'but Noah? It is so good to see you, honey.'

She opened her arms to him, asking him for a hug. Noah hesitated for a moment, looking down at his sopping clothes.

'Honey, it's water, get over here,' your mom demanded, pulling him into a tight hug. Noah grinned, revelling in her hug. He was home. You could see it on his face, tears pricking at his eyes as he squeezed her tight. He was finally home.

Noah stayed the night with you, having missed your mom's home-cooked meals and sharing a bed with you. He texted his housemates, telling them that he would be with you. Nick was excited to hear that you had moved out to LA, and you had to promise that the three of you would hang out together soon, but for the moment, all you wanted was Noah.

You spent the night tangled up in him, your legs entwined while he cradled you close to his chest. Every now and then he would kiss you wherever he could reach, often on the forehead or on your lips.

You giggled together in the dark, listening to the storm outside and reminiscing on all the nights you'd spent huddled under the covers back in Richmond.

'I love you,' he whispered to you as you both drifted closer to sleep.

'I love you too,' you told him, brushing your fingers across his cheek and smiling tiredly.

In the morning, your mom handed him a key as you sat down at the table with your coffee. She told him that he always had a home with the two of you. He tried to hide it, but you saw him getting misty eyed as he hugged your mom.

You had to leave for work, but Noah was free to sit and catch up with your mom. You left them together, smiling at the scene as you said your goodbyes.

Noah rushed after you, chasing you to the car with a smitten grin.

'Hey,' he called out, holding the car door open, 'you forgot something.'

'Oh?' you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He leaned into the car and kissed you, not caring that some of your lipstick was on his face now.

'I love you,' he said with a smile, 'okay, now you can go.'

This became a routine. As long as he was in town, the two of you shared a bed. Sometimes you slept in his, but most of the time you slept in yours. He would kiss you goodbye every morning as you left for work, and if he wasn't in town he would send you some kind of message.

The distance became bearable now that he would always come home. You missed him while he was on tour, but at least he would end up back with you at the end of it all instead of on the other side of the country.

It took some getting used to, but you adjusted.

Months passed, and there came a day when you were both free. He was excited, wanting to take you out somewhere, just the two of you. You agreed, seeing him so happy there was no way you could tell him no.

In his black pickup, you drove to the outskirts of town. He wouldn't tell you where you were going. You let him lead the way, trusting him.

He pulled up and parked the car, finally letting you see where you were. He'd taken you to a forest trail. For a minute, you didn't understand, but you let him guide you. He lead you down the trail and to a little clearing where you saw it.

A tree, just like the wishing tree back home.

You couldn't hide the smile on your face. He raced with you to the tree, both of you dragging yourself up through the unfamiliar limbs and branches. Noah had to help you a few times, pulling you up to a higher branch that you could sit on together.

And as you sat, you found yourselves grinning like little kids.

'I figured a little bit of home was a good thing,' he told you, taking your hand. 'But my home is wherever you are.'

'Noah,' you giggled, leaning into him and shoving him gently with your shoulder.

'I'm serious!' he told you, his eyes crinkling with his laughter. You loved the sound, never tiring of his voice. He could read a dictionary out loud and you would listen to him happily.

'How did you even find this?' you asked him, letting him hold you steady on the branch.

'I used to go hiking during quarantine. It was all I was allowed to do, and it got me out of the house for a while.'

You nodded in understanding. Those years had been insane.

'But, there's a reason I wanted to bring you here,' he said nervously. You shifted, turning to face him and swinging your leg over the branch to straddle it. Noah mimicked your movements, your knees touching each other's as he took your hands in the space between you.

You searched his face, seeing a hint of fear in his eyes. Your throat wanted to close at the sight, but you forced yourself to breath through it, squeezing his hands reassuringly.

'I know it hasn't been long since we found each other again, but I don't ever want to lose you again,' he said, sucking in a deep, shaky breath. 'I wish I had told you earlier than I did, I wish we could have spent more time like this. I loved you before I knew what it meant to love someone. You helped me when no one would, and you never wanted anything from me but a friend. I don't know where I'd be without you, but I wouldn't be here.'

As he spoke, your eyes began to water. Your fingers tangled tighter into his, your heart twisting in your chest.

'I don't want us to ever go through what we went through ever again. I want to always be with you, to look after you. I want to kiss you good morning every day, and I want to be the last thing you see when you go to sleep. I want to bring you coffee, and read your books to you, and run through sprinklers with you. My world starts and ends with you, and I want to be there while you build your world into whatever you want it to be. And I hope that whatever that is, it includes me...'

He released your hand, sliding his fingers into his pocket and retrieving something. A deep red velvet box. He opened it and turned it to you, holding it carefully in the palm of his hand.

'Y/N, I love you, more than anything. I wanted to do this in our tree, but this is the closest I could get us,' he chuckled, smiling nervously and looking at the box in his hand. The ring glittered under the light spilling through the canopy of leaves above you. 'Marry me? Please?'

You couldn't find words. Your body was a cacophony of emotion, tears spilling down your cheeks while your heart pounded in your chest.

'Noah,' you whispered, testing your voice. You could see how nervous he was, and you wanted to put him out of his misery. You nodded, smiling back at him. 'Absolutely. I will absolutely marry you.'

He couldn't get the ring on your finger fast enough. He couldn't kiss you hard enough, or hold you close enough. The pair of you were an emotional wreck, smiling and laughing while tears spilled down both of your cheeks.

Before you left the tree, Noah carved your names into the branch, scrawling a date under it. He helped you get down, and he caught you as you lowered yourself from the last branch, spinning you in a circle and kissing you fiercely.

'I love you,' he said, 'and I'm gonna say it until you hate it.'

'I could never hate it,' you told him, your arms tight around his neck.

When you got home, your mom was thrilled. She couldn't be more excited, demanding to see the ring and telling Noah it was about time. She immediately launched into wedding planning, promising to finance whatever you needed. She was overjoyed to have Noah be a part of the family on paper.

She helped you over the next few months while you picked dates and guests and everything there is to do with a wedding. You debated on inviting your father, but decided against it. He had never been warm to Noah, he didn't need to be a part of this celebration.

Noah had to travel a little bit while all this was happening, but it gave you plenty of chances to find a dress. And he would call every night wanting to know what you and your mom had found or planned.

You weren't sure who was more excited, you or Noah.

And as the days passed, the day finally came.

You walked down the aisle with your mom, surrounded by friends and family, but the only person who mattered to you waited at the end of the aisle with the biggest smile on his face and a glimmer in his warm brown eyes.

He took your hand and held it tight, silently swearing to never let it go. You swore the same. It had always been the two of you (and your mom) against the world, but now you got to declare it in front of everyone.

What you weren't prepared for were Noah's vows.

'Y/N,' he began, 'our history has been a long road of ups and downs. We've known each other longer than I've known anyone else. And I can't think of anyone else I'd rather take on the world with. You have always been my rock, my biggest supporter, and my best friend. You came into my life when I needed someone like you, and I know I was mean to you, but I was embarrassed.

'I was embarrassed because I had seen you in that tree making wishes. I wondered if maybe it was magic, because it always seemed to work for you. I never told you what I wished for that day, but I think by now you've earned the right to know.' He paused, squeezing your fingers and lifting them to his lips, his eyes glistening with tears as he cleared his throat. 'I wished for someone to love me. And not a minute later, there you were, wanting to wish for a pass on your science test. But you offered to wish for something for me, caring about me from the minute we met. I got my wish.'

'But, as I got older, I learned something. The tree wasn't where the magic came from,' he said, smiling at you, losing himself in your gaze. 'The magic was you. You granted every single wish, one way or another. You pushed me to be better, to succeed. You gave me everything you could. You protected me when I couldn't protect myself, you gave me a home when I had nothing, and you loved me when I couldn't love myself. So here I am, vowing to you, that I will always, always, protect you. I will love you when you can't, and I will give you everything I can, and I will always be your home. I vow to keep your magic alive, and to grant every wish for you that I possibly can, because you gave me all of mine.'

You knew he was good with words, but he had you there. By the end of his speech, you were a mess of tears, your own vows forgotten. You wanted nothing more than to throw yourself at him and never let him go.

When you were finally pronounced man and wife, you met Noah with the deepest kiss you could, pressing your body into his and wanting to hold your breath forever so you could stay locked in his lips.

Your guests cheered and wolf-whistled, and Noah dipped you, giving them a show. When the need for air overcame you, you grinned up at him, hanging on to him tightly.

'I've got you,' he assured you.

'And I've got you,' you smiled back up at him.

He spun you back onto your feet, holding you to him as you left the ceremony together. You had to go and take pictures, but you really just wanted a moment alone together.

You lead Noah to the room where you had been getting ready before the ceremony started, closing the door.

'Are you okay?' he asked you, taking your hand. You nodded, thumbing over the band that adorned his left hand now.

'Yeah,' you told him, swallowing hard. 'You just blindsided me a little.'

'I'm sorry-'

'Don't be. Noah, I am so sorry for what you went through, but also I am so thankful that out of all the places it could have lead you, it lead you to me. And I am so thankful that I get to be the one to love you.'

'So am I,' he told you, stepping closer until your chests pressed together. 'I meant it, you're everything to me.'

'And you're everything to me.'

The reception was filled with celebration, jokes, cheering, speeches, and some very unfortunate dancing. And naturally, at the end of the night, LA was subjected to a massive thunderstorm. Your guests hid inside, but you and Noah ran out into the rain, knowing you couldn't break tradition now. The pictures ended up immortalised in your photo album, displayed on the mantle in the house the two of you bought shortly after your honeymoon.

You got lucky, you managed to find a house just a few blocks from your mom. The house had a big yard, but it was missing something...

Noah came home from a tour with the answer a few months after you had settled in.

'I don't know if this is legal, and I have no idea how to do it, but we're gonna try,' he told you, opening a secure compartment in his suitcase and presenting you with a box.

It was an old amazon prime box, about as big as a shoebox, but as thick as a matchbox. You shot him a look, raising an eyebrow.

'Just open it,' he told you, rolling his eyes.

So you did.

A bundle of branches sat in the box, wrapped in wet paper towel.

'You went to Richmond?' you asked. He nodded.

'I did, and I brought some of the wishing tree home. If we do it right, we can have our own wishing tree, right here in our yard. It will take years to grow, but I can't see a reason not to.'

You smiled, shaking your head and placing the branches on the table.

'I love you,' you told him, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him.

'I love you more.'

Together, you propagated the branches, and you successfully planted a tree. And over the years, as that tree grew, the two of you grew. Your love grew, your family grew, your happiness grew. And one day, you and Noah will get to tell your daughter all about the wishing tree, and take her back to your wishing tree.

But for now, you and Noah get to watch her, seeing the magic you made together grow.

THE END.

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