#also i was very good about not getting takeout for two weeks

[naomiknight-17]

In the good news department, tomorrow I can go to the mall and get my copy of Pikmin 4

Can't wait omgggggg

[fireinmoonshot]

love that lasts | joaquín torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: When Thanos snapped his fingers and erased half of all life from the universe, he also took you from Joaquín. Five years later, he is still trying to learn how to live without you – until the Avengers can save the world. Warnings: Google Translate is my best friend – apologies if the Spanish is used incorrectly in this fic, I do not speak it but I tried my best to make sure I used words properly. Mentions of bad mental health, nightmares. It's very angsty at the start, has a bit of fluff, but mostly full of angst. Word Count: 4.2k A/N: I rewatched Infinity War and Endgame last week and came up with this idea. Since we know that Joaquín survived the snap, I decided I wanted to write something angsty about where you didn't survive and this was born. This was the most challenging fic for Joaquín I've written so far but also the most rewarding, I think. I know everyone's really moved on from the whole Infinity War/Endgame thing regarding fics, but I really wanted to write this so I hope people will enjoy it. The title of the fic comes from 'Still' by Noah Kahan – I had his album on repeat almost the entire time I was writing this.

Joaquin Torres always knew that the Avengers were going to save the world. From the moment that half of all life on Earth had disappeared, he knew that whatever had happened, the Avengers would somehow find a way to fix things. 

He just didn’t count on it being five years later.

There had been one good thing that had come out of him not being blipped, though – the fact that his mom hadn’t been either. If he’d had to live without her, he’s sure he would have gone insane. Because it was hard enough to live without you.

He’d spent days wishing that he’d been taken too. The first few days had been the worst. He’d been unable to leave the house, having to learn to grieve you when he wasn’t even sure if you were dead or just gone. 

He remembered every moment of that first day like it was yesterday. How he’d just arrived home from going to pick up some takeout for the two of you and he’d seen his neighbour turn to dust in his front yard while he’d been outside gardening, making the most of the evening light. He thought he must have just been seeing things.

He’d walked through the front door of your home and called out your name, heading into the kitchen to put the take out down before he went to find you, feeling more than confused. Then you’d appeared in the doorway to the kitchen and Joaquin had been flooded with relief.

“I’m home, angel, I have the takeout in the kitchen, come get yours” Joaquin called, starting to get the take out from the bags. “Hey, have you seen anything weird on TV today?”

“Joaquin…”

He’d looked up at you, then, just soon enough to see you say his name as you slowly started to turn to dust in front of his eyes. The blanket that had been wrapped around your shoulders fell to a pile on the floor as Joaquin stared at where you had been standing only seconds earlier. 

“Angel?” Joaquin’s voice was small, hesitant. He put the container down that he’d been holding and walked towards the doorway, half expecting you to be hiding behind the wall, ready to jump out and scare him. It’d been a trick of the light, something like that. But all that was left of you was the blanket on the floor and your phone which had fallen on top of it.

He’d fallen to the floor, grabbing the blanket in his hands and holding it to his chest for what felt like hours as the feeling of numbness overtook him. The blanket still smelled like you and he never wanted to let it go.

Whatever was happening, whatever had happened to your neighbour and to you… there was nothing Joaquin could do about it. He wasn’t an Avenger, he wasn’t anyone special. He knew in that moment that he was going to have to live with it. That fact alone could have killed him.

His knees went numb after kneeling on the floor for so long but he couldn’t find it in himself to pull himself up from the floor. Not even when the sun finally set and the house was blanketed in darkness. The food on the counter had long gone cold. It was only when your phone, sitting in his lap, buzzed, that he’d been pulled out of his stupor. His mother was trying to ring you. She’d thought Joaquin had been taken when she couldn’t get a hold of him, but the second he answered your phone, she knew that you were gone.

Joaquin had stayed with his mother for a while after that, not being able to bring himself to be in the house without you there. There were memories of you in that house everywhere he looked. The sheets still smelled of you, all of your things were still in the cupboards, every time he opened up Netflix, your profile was there. Everything was there except for you. 

“You could always sell the house and move back home with me properly, mijo,” his mother had said. “It’s not smart to be paying your mortgage on that house when no one is living in it.”

He shook his head. “I know it’s not smart, mamá, but I just can’t. We bought that house together. We were making a life there. I can’t even bring myself to move her things, how could I sell the place and clear everything out?” 

His mother reached across the table and placed her hand over Joaquin’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Then you’ll stay here until you’re ready to go home.”

“I don’t know if it will ever really be home without her, mamá,” Joaquin said honestly, meeting her eyes. His were full of tears, as they were most days since you’d gone.

There was no hesitation as his mother stood up from the table and walked around to him, wrapping her arms around him to pull him into a hug. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “She was the love of your life. Just like your father was the love of mine. You don’t have to move on like she never existed, mijo. Time will continue to pass and she will continue to be with you, even when you cannot see her.”

Joaquin sniffed, holding his mother close as he cried. “I really love her, mamá,” he murmured, not really expecting her to hear him since his voice was so muffled.

She did, though. Gently rubbing his back, she closed her eyes and let out a long, shaky sigh. “I know you do. I loved her too, mijo. Just like she was my own,” she hummed. “Don’t lose hope. She will return to you one day, I believe that. Your soulmate will find you wherever you are, in any life.”

As the years went on, Joaquin started to believe that this was the way it was always going to be. The Avengers had not saved the world like he thought they would. And he was going to have to learn to live the rest of his life with only memories of you. Like his mother had said, time continued to pass, no matter how much he wished it wouldn’t.

The world changed. He changed. Things became darker and he became darker with them, though he desperately tried to keep the spark alive in his chest �� if only because he knew that was what you’d want him to do. You would want him to still be the same Joaquin that you’d loved, but how could he be that person without you?

He threw himself into his job, working day and night to try and keep himself afloat. It seemed strange to be doing such mundane things in a world that was so different. To have to keep earning money to pay the mortgage of your house. To have to get out of bed every morning and shave. To have to make food for himself to eat during the day. To have to go to the grocery store to get milk for breakfasts and coffees.

Five years had passed slowly. Joaquin had made it through them relatively unscathed, with a few mental scars here and there. Every day he was grateful that he still had his mom. That she was there to comfort him when the days were hard and that he was still alive to be there for her as well. If she’d been alone through all of this, it would have broken Joaquin’s heart even more.

When he eventually moved back into your home, every time he cooked dinner it was like you were in the room with him. He could feel your hand on his back as he cooked, your arms around his waist as he washed the dishes. It was like you were still there with him, but then he’d blink and the memories were gone, washed down the sink with the water he drained.

He still cooked enough food for two people before realising it was only him. For a while, he could never bring himself to eat the second serving, until times got harder and he couldn’t afford to waste anything. 

He would be laying in bed at night and he could swear he could feel your arm draped across his side. He could feel the ghost of your kisses on his lips. Your side of the bed was empty every night and yet, he could never bring himself to wash the pillowcase you’d once slept on for fear of the way you smelt disappearing entirely, forcing him to lose another part of you. He couldn’t lose anymore of you.

His friends who had survived the blip had suggested that he put himself back out there. Go on a date, find someone new. There were plenty of stories of people who had gone to support groups after losing loved ones and had found new love there. The likelihood of everyone who had been blipped coming back was slim to none, so why not? But Joaquin could never bring himself to let you go. Even just thinking about going on a date with someone else filled him with guilt. People had tried to set him up on dates but he had never gone through with actually going on any of them. 

His mom was the only one who understood. Even if it meant that her baby would never be able to give her the grandchildren she’d wanted for so long, it didn’t matter to her. She had loved you like you were her own child. All she wanted was for Joaquin to be happy and for some miracle to bring you back to him so that he could be. But even she had lost hope after the past five years that anything could bring you back to him. 

And then… the Avengers saved the world.

~~~

That morning, Joaquin is sitting in a coffee shop – one that had been your favourite before you were gone. He’s missing you a little more than normal this morning and had decided that a good way to feel like he was with you would be to come out and spend time at a place you loved. He’s taking a sip of his coffee when someone suddenly appears in the chair opposite him.

Joaquin almost chokes on his drink, coughing a little as he looks at the man in front of him. He hadn’t walked in from anywhere, he hadn’t been in the coffee shop before. He’d just… appeared. What the hell was going on?

“What the…” the man says, looking around the coffee shop with a confused and haunted look in his eyes. “You’re not my wife… I was just sitting here with her… Where is Sylvia?”

Joaquin’s eyes widen. For a moment he wonders if the man is just confused, maybe there’s something wrong with him mentally and this is his way of asking Joaquin for help… but then, on the table in front of him, his phone lights up and starts to ring.

The contact photo is of you and the name on the screen is yours.

He drops his coffee, spilling a little on the table as he reaches for his phone. His hands are already starting to shake. A part of him thinks this must all be a cruel joke. Someone has broken into your house and stolen your phone, or there’s some kind of technological glitch. But another part of him, the part that is still hoping after all these years, truly believes that when he answers the phone, your voice will be the one he hears on the other end of the line. 

“Angel?” Joaquin’s voice is hopeful as he holds his phone up to his ear and presses the answer button. “Is that you?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line and Joaquin’s stomach drops. But then he hears it. “Joaquin… where are you? What’s going on?” Your voice – your voice on the other end of the line. It’s real. By some miracle, you’re home. “You were just unpacking the takeout and then…”

“Angel, just stay there, okay? I’m coming home,” Joaquin says to you, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair as he stands up. “I’m so sorry, sir. You should call your wife,” he mutters to the man still sitting on the chair opposite him, looking confused.

He takes off at a run, almost running straight into a few people walking through the door of the cafe. He doesn’t hang up the phone the entire time he’s running home, just grateful that your favourite coffee shop is within walking distance of your house. He’s grateful that he wasn’t driving – he doubts he’d be able to focus on the road properly, knowing that you’re home and waiting for him.

Joaquin runs faster than he’s ever run in his entire life. His throat hurts from his heavy breathing and the air rushing in and there’s a stitch forming on his side. There’s sweat dripping down his forehead, owing to the sweater he’d put on this morning and the pace at which he’s running. But he’s not going to stop or slow down for even a second until he gets to you.

Once he reaches your street, he pushes himself to run even faster. He can see your house in the distance and he hopes he’s not dreaming as he runs towards it. He doesn’t think he can deal with the pain of walking inside the house and not seeing you inside again. 

He’s breathing heavily as he reaches the front door, fumbling in his pocket for the key. He doesn’t even notice his neighbour in the front yard, the one he’d seen disappear five years ago, standing right where he’d disappeared, holding his wife close.

Joaquin doesn’t manage to get the key in the front door before it’s pulled open, his hands shaking too much with adrenaline. His head snaps up and his eyes fall on you, your hand on the door handle and your cheeks tear-streaked as you look at him.

“Oh, dios mío,” Joaquin mutters, instantly stepping inside the door and wrapping his arms around you. He holds you tightly to his chest, worried that you’re going to disappear from his arms for good this time. “Are you real? Are you actually here? I’m dreaming. I must be dreaming. This can’t be real.”

Your hands fist the fabric of his sweater as he holds you close. Whatever happened, you don’t really know yet, but what you do know is that Joaquin is acting like he hasn’t seen you for years. The house looks the same, you’d noticed, as you’d walked around before Joaquin came home and you heard the sound of his keys at the door. But something is off.

“I’m real, Joaquin,” you murmur into his ear. “You’re not dreaming. But I don’t know what’s going on… where did you go? You were unpacking takeout and then you were gone.”

Joaquin pulls away from the hug but still keeps his arms firmly wrapped around your waist. He can’t bring himself to let go and he fears it’s going to be that way forever now. “Angel, it’s… it’s been five years since I last saw you. Thanos… he wiped out half of all life in the universe… you were– you were gone.” Tears start to fall down Joaquin’s cheeks and he doesn’t realise until your hand moves to gently swipe them away. He leans into your palm, finding comfort in the feeling of your warm hand on his cheek. “But the Avengers… whatever they did brought you back to me. It was them, I know it must’ve been.”

He internally curses himself for ever doubting them.

“Five years?” You frown, eyebrows knotting together as you try and piece things together in your mind. For you, it had just been like you’d blinked and things had changed but for Joaquin… it had been five years. Five years without you, and yet when you’d called… he had literally come running. “I was gone for five years?”

Joaquin nods, reaching one hand up to wipe the tears from your own face. He can’t imagine how terrifying it must have been for you to come back and not find him anywhere, for you to be alone in the house. He’s more grateful than ever now that he never tried to sell the house. If you’d come back and an entire new family had been living in your house…

“They were the hardest five years of my life, angel,” he says softly. “I thought that you were gone forever.”

You look at him for a moment, a little confused. “But you still live here… you still kept my number in your phone… you– Joaquin, you came running to me when I called… what have you been doing for the last five years?”

Joaquin’s heart cracks a little in his chest. “Angel, I’ve been waiting for you.” 

With that, he can’t bring himself to maintain his self control any longer. The hand that had wiped the tears off your cheeks gently holds the back of your neck as he presses his lips to yours. You reciprocate immediately. Five years of wanting, five years of waiting for something he was sure was never going to come… a kiss five years in the making. Joaquin is surprised he was able to hold off for so long. He’s never going to take advantage of kissing you ever again. 

~~~

A little later, you and Joaquin sit on the couch in the living room. Your hands are entwined, legs tangled under a blanket in front of you. It had taken a while to pull yourselves from the doorway. You were both in a little bit of shock – Joaquin in shock that you were finally back here after five years, you in shock that you had been gone that long.

“You really never dated anyone at all in the last five years?” You ask, resting your head on his shoulder as one of his fingers draws patterns on your palm that slightly tickles. 

Joaquin looks down at you and sighs. “Believe me, my friends tried to make me. They even set up a couple of dates for me to go on, but I never went on any of them. I just couldn’t bring myself to get out the front door.”

Frowning, you look up at him. “Why not?”

“Because none of them were you, angel.”

He gives your hand a squeeze and you snuggle closer into his side. You’d been insecure in your relationship at times – five years ago – but you knew you could never be insecure about it anymore. How many other people could say their partner had waited five years for them on a sliver of hope that they’d come back after disappearing from the universe? 

In his pocket, Joaquin’s phone starts to buzz. He pulls it out of his pocket and smiles as he sees his mothers contact on the screen. “I’ve got a phone call for you, mi amor.” He hands the phone to you and his heart warms as he sees your smile upon seeing who’s calling. “I think she almost missed you more than I missed you.”

You take the phone off of Joaquin and instantly hit answer, holding the phone up to your ear. “Suegrita,” is all you say and even though Joaquin isn’t holding the phone, he can already hear his mothers cries on the other side of the line. 

He motions for you to put the call on speaker. 

“Mamá, you told me not to lose hope,” he says, taking advantage of a moment of silence from the other end of the line while his mother isn’t sobbing. He’s already planning to go and see her as soon as possible – especially when she’s like this.

For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of his mothers sobs on the other end of the line, and then she speaks. “You bring her home to see me soon, mijo!” She exclaims to Joaquin. “Mi querida niña, you do not understand how happy I am that you are home with your love.” Her words are directed at you now.

There are already tears streaming down your cheeks at her words. “You must have taken really good care of him these past five years for me, suegrita,” you sniff. “Thank you for looking after him when I couldn’t.”

Joaquins arm wraps around your shoulders and squeezes tightly. 

“I knew you would come home to him one day, querida,” his mom says. “Soulmates will find each other in life no matter what comes between them. I told him that years ago.”

His mother only hangs up after Joaquin promises that he’ll bring you around to see her tomorrow. You know you’re going to need to prepare yourself for plenty of hugs and kisses from her, and even though for you it’s only been a matter of weeks since you’ve seen her, it’s been five years since she saw you. It’s going to take a while to get used to that fact. 

“Mamá took good care of me, angel,” Joaquin says, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “I don’t know what I would have done without her here. I cried in her arms more than I can count over the past five years.” 

You frown, moving until you’re straddling Joaquin’s lap and you can hug him properly. You bury your head in his neck and one of your hands moves to rest in his hair. His arms wrap around your back. “You don’t have to cry anymore, baby.”

Joaquin chuckles a little. “I think I’m probably still going to do a lot of that. I can’t make any promises, angel,” he rubs your back. “A part of me still thinks I’m dreaming. That I’m going to wake up any second and you’re going to be gone.” 

You pull away just enough so you can look him in the eyes. “I’m real, Joaquin. I’m not going anywhere. Not unless there’s some other alien out there that’s going to get rid of half all life in the universe again.”

He scrunches up his nose. “Don’t joke about that. Too soon.” 

Smiling, you lean in and touch the tip of your nose against his gently. Joaquin takes advantage of the closeness of your face to lean up and capture your lips with his. He can feel you smiling into the kiss. Maybe if he does this enough, he can make his brain realise that this is real. That you’re here in his arms, your lips on his. That against all odds, you’re home.

~~~

He knows the nightmares aren’t going to go away any time soon. They’ve been plaguing him for years at this point. He’s lost count of the amount of times he’s woken up from a dream that you were alive, or a nightmare where he had you back only to lose you again. It’s why, when he wakes up later that night, his heart racing and sweat drenching his body, that it’s not a surprise to him.

What does surprise him is that he forgets you’re here now. It’s not until he hears your soft, sleep filled voice speak his name and feels the mattress move underneath him that he spins around from where he’d moved to sit on the edge of the bed to see you. 

“Baby, are you okay?” You ask quietly.

Joaquin takes you by surprise by pretty much launching himself at you. He places a hand on your cheek, another one on your thigh. You’re sitting up, legs crossed, staring at him full of worry. 

“Baby?” You try again.

“You’re real,” Joaquin mutters. “I’m not dreaming. It’s not a nightmare.” 

You reach up a hand to rest on the one on your cheek. “It’s not a nightmare. I’m real.”

Tears fill Joaquin’s eyes again. He’s still haunted by the nightmare, one where he’d lost you again, and his brain is just sleepy enough to make him think that this is all a dream, even after trying to convince himself that it isn’t. Even after hearing your words confirm that it isn’t. 

“Please don’t leave me,” he murmurs.

You shuffle closer to him until you’re face to face, until you can feel his unsteady breaths on your face and your noses are almost touching. “I’m not going anywhere, Joaquin.”

He brushes his lips against yours softly, barely even a kiss. “Don’t leave me.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut and kiss him properly in an attempt to wake him up a little. It’s almost like he’s still in the midst of the nightmare, that he can’t manage to pull himself out of it completely. The fact that he’s had to deal with all of this alone for the past five years makes your heart hurt. 

“I’m home now, baby,” you mutter against his lips after you pull away. “I’m not leaving you. I’m home.”

Joaquin’s arms move to pull you closer to him until you’re almost sitting in his lap. “You’re home,” he says softly. 

“I’m home,” you repeat.

He takes a moment to just breathe, then. Focusing on the feeling of your hands on him, the feeling of his hands on you, trying to ground himself. You’re home. You are really home. And for the first time in five years… Joaquin finally feels like he is home too. 

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hello, can I get more stories about yandere cheerleaders and the yandere soccer team ? It's okay if you don't want to write it right now. May you be happy and healthy. Be together with everyone for a longggggg time !

Yandere Cheerleaders + Football Team (2)

Last Post

The thing about having two of the most dedicated and competitive teams obsessing over you definitely means protection but it also means being the main point of their tug-of-war

While they’re more than gung-ho about chasing off anyone else at the college who’s thinking of being more than acquaintances 

When they’re aren’t bigger fish to fry they start looking at each other

“Look, we already planned to study with them so you need to back off!”

“Ha, you ‘planned’ to. We asked them already so unless you’d like to explain why we can’t hang–you back off!”

“Our Captain–!”

“Clearly isn’t updated on (Y/n)’s time. Better take your pom poms and go do that.”

“You’ll pay for this!” 

Just because the Captains who’ve headed this interest are dating doesn’t mean the animosity between their teams goes away

“That’s what they said? Really? You know your girls have a tendency to exaggerate.”

“Exaggerate!? Your muscle brains went and posted all the evidence needed. No, they did not exaggerate they asked them and you know how weak they are if they’re asked by the group! Which is why we made the rule–!”

“I know. I know. They probably were just tired of the stalling, the week started and they haven’t gotten any alone time.”

“Yeah well now they’re going to pay for it, the girls are vengeful before they are patient.”

“Can’t you stop them, we have a big game on Thursday.”

“No we have competitions on Wednesday and if the girls don’t have their blood our competitors are going to get more than just their butts kicked. And I refuse to bribe those judges anymore. ”

“Please baby just this once.”

“No.”

“...”

“...”

“Alright guess we’ll have to duke this out later.”

“Yeah, now do you want to invite them over for takeout or go over to theirs for takeout?”

“Oooh, we haven’t been in a while! Let’s go to theirs!”

They do end up agreeing amicably

But that doesn’t mean the teams do

Whoever’s turn it is as decided by the Captains is always happier

It’s the ones who don’t that begin to talk amongst themselves

“I love our captain but he’s such a pushover!”

“Yeah, a leader should be a leader over his woman too!”

“But have you seen the cheer captain? She’s scary!”

“Yeah but the question comes up at some point who do you love more? The witchy cheer chic or (Y/n)?”

“That’s an obvious answer for me!”

“(Y/n) all the way!”

The cheer team is no different, barely waiting for their captain to leave the bathroom before scoffing

“I can’t believe she screwed us over again.”

“Hate to say it but did you really think she’d hold her ground to him?”

“Yeah, you guys remember that one ex right? She abandoned us back in Summer just for his that greaser wannabe.”

“Hmmm true…Hey do you guys think she’d dumb Captain manscape if (Y/n) asked?”

“Oooh that might be fun to find out!”

But despite how malicious it sounds the heart of those teams knows not to act they know better

… or most of them

There’s one or two in both teams that break 

Usually hinting at the cheer captain’s doing something awful to you

Cheating on the other or talking bad about you to the new students you’ve been trying to be friends with

While they’ll swoon in the moment because you’re hanging off their every word it never lasts

By the time they return to fraternity or sorority, the dream is over

And they're about to feel the worst and last pain in their life

“Look ladies here’s someone who’s threatened our flock…MY flock. New Girl!”

“Yes, Captain!”

“What do we do with the mockingbirds?

“We push them out the nest?”

“Very good!”

On the cheer squad, a simple alone time or texting without informing two other cheerleaders is humiliation by way of social media

Flirting with you earns a spanking by the vice leader

And attempting to undermine the captain…well let’s say the Cheer team is careful to wear  their running mascara when one of their teammate's severed hand appears a couple of miles off campus

No one really knows exactly what happens

Just that the only thing that identifies their old teammate is the obscure telltale feature

Like the green manicured nail on her index, the only one not torn off 

As for the Football Team they tend not to make it too imaginative

NOT because they aren’t smart…they just don’t need to be that creative with it

Plus they’re not that great at cleaning their own messes

“Captain, can I do the honors? I’ve got something special for our…dear friend.”

"Go for it."

“Edibles, the big M, a couple of high-grade stuff from our pharma buddies, and for an extra touch something out of this world to make sure you regret all that you’ve done.”

They’re big fans of injection

Holding the offender down and give one two three if they’re awful shots and then letting them loose

On a club’s rooftop, or a dodgy club, or even on their football field 

it’s just the horrible drugs that leave them totally unaware by the rabid dog pack or the unfenced edge or the sketchy people hovering near them

It’s textbook after all that kids too focused on their careers just get lost in the drugs

A shame that this pandemic isn’t exempt from infesting Energi University

It’s a little sloppy because they don’t always die

But thanks to their indulgent cocktails they sure won’t be remembering or even capable of getting a proper sentence out

“Honey, I wanted to congratulate you on that good catch you did. I was really impressed with that blend.”

“Thanks, babe but don’t think I didn’t notice how you killed that cheer!”

“....Are you guys talking in code because I really don’t get it.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it hon! Now about that takeout.”

“Yeah babe, we’ll pay for it and put on a movie or somethin’.”

“Oh but then it’ll be dark and even if your together I wouldn’t want you guys out there with all the danger around campus lately.”

“Then we’ll stay over!”

“Wait–”

“Yeah, it’s cool we don’t mind cuddling up with you.”

“Yup! Not at all!”

“Uh okay I guess.”

“Oh also you’re free to come to our practices right?”

“Yeah, both teams have been missing you real bad.”

Thanks for the well wishes anon! 🖤🖤🖤🖤 Rules | Kofi | Commissions

[surplekit]

・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱ Love Languages・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

Included: Isagi, Barou, Nagi, Kunigami, Reo

Synopsis: Different ways the blue lock boys show their love for you ☆｡･:*:

Pairing: male character x gn!reader

a/n: honestly this is all fluff to cleanse my mind of the smut i've been writing. Also I really dislike Isagi’s part but he’s my favoriteeeee 😔 idk why my writing is so poor

Isagi - words of affirmation

Isagi is your biggest hypeman. He constantly praises you, complementing every single one of your features. More than often, you catch him staring at you like he’s analyzing your face. It would be creepy if his intentions weren’t so pure.

“Your eyes are so beautiful Y/N”

Every once in a while, he likes to pack you a lunch. Along with the sandwiches and animal shaped fruits he packs you, there’s always special notes.

“You’re amazing, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

There was one time he was in a rush, and he forgot to write you a little message. Of course, you noticed and were disappointed, as you looked forward to his sentimental messages each time. He acknowledged this, never failing to write you a paragraph.

His favorite phrase consists of three words - I, love, and you. Everyday he makes sure he says it to you at least once, and you can tell that it’s always genuine and from the heart.

Barou - acts of service

Barou doesn’t say “I love you” often, but he definitely shows it. He loves to do everything for you, and will get upset if he sees you doing any task.

“What’re you doing? Sit here, I’ll do it.”

It’s not that he thinks you can’t do it, he knows you’re very capable. But he believes that he should be the one to do everything around the house, so you can relax. “As a good boyfriend should.” he always insists.

He’s a great cook, and loves to make you all different types of foods. What’s more, is that he’s attentive. He takes note of the foods and deserts you like the most, so he can make them more often. And he does the dishes. He hates to see you washing anything, so he does after part as well.

Nagi - quality time

Ever since you guys began dating, you’ve been attached at the hip. Everywhere you are, he is. He loves spending time with you, even if he’s just napping next to you while you’re immersed in your favorite book. He trails behind you, even if you’re just walking to the bathroom or the kitchen.

One time he was was napping, and you wanted to go get some takeout. The second he felt the weight of the mattress shift, he woke up.

“Where’re we going? He spoke in a sleepy voice, set on following you to wherever you we’re planning to go.

You guys don’t even need to be doing anything specific, he simply enjoys being in your presence, it makes him feel safe and comfortable.

Kunigami - physical touch

This boy always has to have his hands on you. Not even sexually, he just always has to be touching you in some way. You always find his arm wrapped around your waist, and his fingers intertwined with yours, especially in public. Kunigami has no shame. He will show that he is yours, holding hands and following behind you like a puppy.

Kunigami likes to snake his hand up your shirt and feel your chest. Again, nothing sexual, he just loves feeling as close to you as possible.

“Ye’r so warm..”

His favorite hobby is cuddling. He will cuddle you whenever, wherever like a giant teddy bear. In bed, on the couch, on the floor I promise it does not matter. As long as he has you lying on his chest, he will cuddle you whenever he can.

Reo - gift giving

Reo’s mindset is that he has money, so he might as well spend it on you. Every week you end up with a new piece of jewelry and a bouquet of flowers. You insist that he doesn’t have to buy you so many gifts all the time, and it makes people think you’re only with him for his money, which you’re not.

“Don’t worry about what others are saying, I know you love me. Besides, I can spend my money on whatever I choose.”

Whenever you two go out, he swipes his card like crazy, buying anything that you seem even the littlest bit interested in. Now you guys are walking out of the mall, him carrying 7 bags of whatever with a satisfied smile on his face.

Reo always treats you out to breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the most expensive places. And he buys you little trinkets from wherever he travels so you always have something to remind you of him.

“You are the best so you deserve the best.”

[talesofesther]

now and forevermore

➥ Yelena Belova x Reader/fem!OC

Summary: A story about a motorcycle ride, some takeout, and counting constellations. Or, Yelena picks you up from work on her motorcycle and takes you on a sweet date on the outskirts of town.

A/N: This story ended up quite personal to me, but very sweet all the same. Yelena has the biggest 'I kiss girls' energy in thunderbolts, and no one can convince me otherwise. <3

Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist

You walked out of work on a Friday evening feeling the weight of a busy week on your body.

You loved your work. Many would think that grooming dogs for a living was the dream job. And most of the time, it really was. Your clients were fluffy and always overly happy to see you; bad days were a rarity.

But, it could also be very tiring. Your muscles ached from the workout of having to bathe two German shepherds in a row. And there was a prominent scratch on your forearm from a small dog who had been terrified of the blow dryer.

So when you walked out the doors and saw Yelena waiting for you outside, you nearly teared up from happiness.

She had a habit of leaving you breathless. Her motorcycle, an already well-loved CCM Maverick, was parked behind her. Yelena leaned back against it, arms crossed in front of her body, and short blonde hair flowing with the afternoon wind. She wore a black leather jacket, boots, and fingerless gloves. A single thin chain necklace lay around her neck, and her collection of earrings glinted under the fading sun of the evening.

You could fall in love with her all over again.

Two helmets rested on the motorcycle, along with a plastic bag hanging from the handlebars. Your stomach fluttered excitedly at the implication.

You fought to suppress a smile when she finally looked at you. Things still felt novel. The weight of Yelena's gaze made you look down bashfully.

"Hey, pretty girl." Her Russian accent sent goosebumps rising on your skin. "Any chance you're free tonight?"

You raised your chin in feigned thought, stopping in front of her when your sneakers bumped into her boots. Yelena pushed herself up. Her lips parted with the ghost of a smirk when you didn't step away.

The closeness was almost too much for a sidewalk in the middle of the city.

"Depends," you hummed. Yelena's hair curled prettily around her ears. You wanted to run your hands through it. "Will you show me a good time?"

Her hands found your arms. Yelena trailed a lingering path down with her fingers until they interlocked with yours. There was a barely there blush to her cheeks; if you paid attention, you'd be able to hear the stumble on her breath.

"What do you say about takeout and getting away from this city for a while?" Her voice dropped a decibel. The start of a pout coming to her lips.

Yelena was the most capable person you knew. Her hands fidgeted with yours, a little restless. Her eyelashes kissed the corner of her cheeks when she averted her eyes. She was also the most endearing person you knew.

Before allowing yourself to overthink it, you leaned in and pecked the corner of her mouth. "It sounds perfect."

Yelena's smile was contagious. She leaned forward, and her forehead touched yours for a brief moment. Wisps of her hair tangled with yours and then let go. It was relief and gratitude all wrapped into one.

Yelena is still living many firsts. You are her first sweetheart.

She handed you one of the helmets and put on her own, along with sunglasses to shield her eyes from the bright orange setting sun. She got onto the bike first, and once you did as well, one of her hands found your knee and squeezed reassuringly.

Riding on the back of Yelena's motorcycle, with your arms tight around her waist and her hand brushing against yours whenever you'd stop at a traffic light, was nothing short of blissful.

The city blurred past the corners of your eyes like a memory from a dream—distant and only a mix of feelings, lights, and noise. You could smell Yelena's perfume even through the helmet. The constant warmth of her body pressed tightly against yours was addictive.

Yelena was excellent on the streets, but she kept the speed under 100 whenever you were with her—an unspoken act of care. Your heart swelled ten sizes, and it still wasn't enough to contain your love.

Your hand sneaked under her jacket as you drove past downtown and reached the secluded residential area. You felt the shape of her abdomen beneath your fingers, and your thumb pressed gently against her ribs. No malice, only closeness.

"I've missed you, moy sladkiy." Yelena's voice almost disappeared amidst the low rumble of the bike's engine. But you caught it. You squeezed her tighter.

Yelena, the deadliest woman you knew, and you disarmed her with a single touch.

She had been the consequence of a gamble. You'd never worked at a pet salon before, but your friend had informed you of an opening, and well, you needed the money. The fact that you already loved dogs was a bonus, so you took the shot. That was almost a year ago. On the three-month mark of you working there, Yelena walked in. She held the leash of a light caramel and brown American Akita; a big girl, with fluffy fur and an overly friendly demeanor to contrast that of her owner.

Fanny was a delight to work with, she had taken a liking to you since the first appointment. So much so that when Yelena came back to pick her up for the first time, the dog kept wanting to go back for more ear scratches from you.

You were the first person who managed to bring a genuine smile to Yelena on the first day of meeting her.

"Seems like this won't be the last time you'll see me." Yelena had told you, while bending down to bury her hands into the now even fluffier fur of Fanny's neck.

You couldn't thank that dog enough. But maybe the extra snacks you gave her on each grooming session would cover it.

The drive took about ten more minutes. Wind kissed your cheeks through the open visor of the helmet, and Yelena let one of her hands rest on your knee when you turned at an intersection and began driving down an empty road.

The houses from before had vanished; now, all that surrounded you were overgrown patches of grass. It was a steady slope, rising continually until you eventually reached a dead end.

Yelena parked the motorcycle to the side of the street. She placed her helmet on the bike's rearview mirror and waited for you to get off before she did the same.

You had never been here before. It wasn't too far from town or from your house, but this little hidden corner of the world was new to you. Yelena had taken you to the top of a hill, the end of the furthest road before leaving the city completely. It wasn't overly tall, but from up here, you could easily look over houses and most of the city far below. Fresh wind hit your skin, and you felt the breeze of air that didn't smell like car smoke.

Away from it all, the view of the sky was unobstructed. You could see far and wide, a privileged seat to watch the setting sun until it hid behind the city's silhouette.

Yelena took the plastic bag in one hand and yours in the other. A timid grin stretched her lips, and she avoided your eyes, focusing instead on how her black boots hit the old pavement.

You loved her. Her short hair was all over the place, tousled because of the helmet and the wind. She fidgeted nervously with your fingers while she led you to a lonely wooden bench standing at the edge of the hill. And you loved her so much.

The sky was all bubblegum and gold, stripes of the last rays of sun bleeding in between the few clouds.

"Sometimes, I come up here to think." Yelena interlocked your hands. She took a step closer, and your heart skipped a beat, eyes following the soft curve of her nose.

Yelena's cheeks were pink, because of the sun or something else. Either way, you wanted to kiss them.

"Ever since we met, it's about you." Her voice dropped lower, words thick with her Russian timbre. Green eyes still hid behind her lashes, but she squeezed your hand.

With bathed breath and barely contained affection, you raised your free hand to her face. Your thumb found the corner of Yelena's mouth. You traced a path there; unhurried, memorizing. You pressed against her lower lip gently, feeling the shape of her beneath your touch.

The sigh that fell past Yelena's lips was a shaky one. She leaned into your touch, falling forward until her forehead rested on yours.

The kiss that followed came as easily as breathing. Her lips were familiar and novel all at the same time. Yelena took your lower lip between both of hers, nose pressing to your cheek as she leaned in urgently. Close wasn't close enough.

You had not yet labelled what you were to each other. Everything is too raw and fragile yet. But you loved with the intensity of souls that waited a lifetime to find each other.

—⧗—

This far away from the city, the stars shone all the brighter. Without the pollution of streetlights and neon signs, the sky became a blanket of constellations.

Two takeout boxes lay empty and forgotten on one far side of the wooden bench. Beside them, you and Yelena sat together. No space was left between you, with her shoulder a constant and warm presence against yours.

From your place leaning onto her, you turned your head up. "My mother used to tell me about that one." You pointed up towards a group of stars resembling an archer's figure. "Orion, from Greek mythology. He believed himself to be a great hunter."

Your smile became nostalgic. "When I was little, I used to spot the three stars that form his belt first, and figured out the rest of the shape from there."

"It's beautiful," Yelena mumbled, even if you could feel her gaze on you.

She held one of your hands between both of hers. You realized today that Yelena had a habit of always touching some part of you. You didn't mind at all.

"I never learned too much about stars." She mused. Her cheek came to rest atop your head, and she nuzzled closer.

You've been here for hours, the sun has long since set. You had a feeling Yelena did not want the night to end. And you didn't either. "I've always found them fascinating."

"Tell me more," Yelena spoke against your skin, a request that sounded more like a soft plea. "I like hearing you talk."

Blood rushed to your cheeks. You squeezed her hand, thumb brushing past the fabric of her gloves and finding her skin. "Did you know that, if you want a glimpse into the past, all you have to do is look up at the stars?"

An inquisitive hum escaped Yelena. You could perfectly picture a confused frown on her features.

"Yeah." You grinned, voice sweet as honey because of the woman holding you. "The stars we see in the night sky are from the past. Their light takes a long time to reach us. So long, that when we look at the sky, we are actually seeing it as it was in the past, not as it is in the present."

Yelena went quiet. Her head pulled away from yours as her nose pointed up at the sky, and her eyes drank in the infinity of constellations above both of you.

"So if you want to go back in time, just look up." It was nothing but a breath past your lips as you didn't want to break the peace of the night.

A trembled chuckle escaped Yelena. Her throat worked through a heavy gulp.

You brought her hand to your lips, placing a lingering kiss on her knuckles.

It brought her back. She turned to you, and her lips found your hairline. She pressed closer, allowing you to support her weight for a moment.

Her free hand found your chin. Yelena brought your head up from where it leaned against her shoulder, only enough so her lips could kiss the spot between your brows.

Gratitude. Love. You understood the words she didn't say.

Minutes turned into another hour or two, and the fresh breeze from before had turned into a cold night wind.

It ruffled the grass and howled softly as it passed through. You shivered involuntarily, goosebumps rising on your skin as you pressed closer against Yelena.

Her picking you up from work had been a surprise. You were not exactly dressed for cold nights.

Yelena shifted, causing you to straighten up as well. Perceptive as ever, she undoubtedly felt the tension in your muscles. One of her hands reached for your bare arm and then cupped your cheek.

"Shit, you're freezing!" Yelena exclaimed, suddenly alert as if alarms were going off inside her head. There was a furrow between her brows that you wished to smooth away with your fingers. Her lips turned slightly downwards with an adorable pout.

"Oh, it's nothing, Lena, I'm not-"

Before you could finish, Yelena had already shrugged off her black jacket. It left her only in a white tank top, and your gaze couldn't help but stray to the thin scar just under her right shoulder.

"Put it on." Yelena shoved the jacket into your hands.

"Lena-"

"Please, put it on."

You pressed your lips together, a protest lying on your tongue. But her eyes were big pools of green; they had endless galaxies reflecting on them, and you were a goner. You bit back the words.

Relenting, you put on the jacket. It was comfortable and just a little bigger on you. The fabric still held the warmth of Yelena's body, and you almost groaned at the feeling of having it wrapped around you. A soft sigh escaped as you closed your eyes briefly.

"I'm sorry." Yelena breathed, and you focused back on her in the same heartbeat.

She shook her head, blonde strands of hair falling over her eyes. The makeup on the bottom lid of her eyes seemed much darker when the only light was that of the moon. "I should've known better, I-" Yelena raised a hand, fingers brushing between her brows as she clenched her eyes with a grimace.

"Stop." The whisper fell past your lips of its own volition. Your heart stumbled upon seeing the clear distress on Yelena's face.

"It was a stupid idea to come here. This is no place to bring you-" Yelena's voice became increasingly unsteady. She pressed her lips together, turning away from you and towards the city far below, now nothing more than dots of light.

"What? No." You gripped both her hands. Confusion laced your tone as you tried to convince her of something you thought was already obvious; "Yelena, today was perfect."

"You're cold, this isn't perfect." She spoke as if talking more to herself than to you. Her tone was reprimanding. "I should've thought better."

"I don't mind," You promised quietly, shuffling closer to her again as if pulled by her gravity. "I'd want to be here anyway."

For several beats, the only sounds you could hear were the crickets hiding in the grass and the soft wind that disheveled your hair.

Yelena's stare was distant, as if taken by a memory. Her eyes glazed over, and the moonlight bathed her earrings in silver.

"I had nothing when I got you." Yelena's voice dropped to something calmer, as soft as you made her feel.

Her sudden fragility startled you. And foolishly, for a brief moment, you still thought her words were only because of the cold night wind.

"You…" The first tear rolled down her cheek. Yelena beat you to wiping it away. She brushed the back of her hand under her eye. She wasn't as kind to herself as you would've been. "You are the best thing that has happened to me… in a long time." Slowly, her voice became a whimper. Small sobs made her shoulders shake.

Yelena looked down at her lap, at your hand clasped tightly on her own.

No, these words come from a much deeper place, one you knew was there.

Sometimes, Yelena's eyes would tear up out of nowhere—you could be walking hand in hand down the street, or giving her a peck on the cheek when she comes to pick up Fanny, or simply when you'd linger a little longer on a goodbye hug—you'd see that glint in her eyes, barely contained tears just a blink away from spilling.

Her sorrow was silent and loud at the same time.

It made you wonder when was the last time someone loved on her.

You had never brought it up. You knew Yelena didn't have an easy time talking about these feelings. But you noticed, and if you hugged her a little tighter or told her you loved her a little too many times, you'd blame it on you being a sap.

Now, you wonder if you should've addressed it sooner.

You reached for her, free hand pushing stray locks of her short hair behind her ear. "Yelena, listen-"

"I want it to work." She cut you off, finally looking you in the eyes. Her quiet voice burned with rawness and desperation—too many emotions swam behind her eyes for you to put a finger in any of them. "I want to do it right, but I'm not sure how."

Your heart swelled inside your chest. Hurting with love for this woman who'd pick up stray animals and bring you flowers at work and still not see her own value.

You let go of her hand, and there was a brief moment of panic in Yelena's face, before you cupped both her cheeks. You hoped your love could be felt in your touch.

She pressed her lips together. Tears hung on her eyelashes. You couldn't feel her breathing, and you wondered if you were the only one allowed to see this side of her.

Your thumbs found the apple of her cheeks. You brushed away the stray wetness there, touching her as tenderly as you felt. "Yelena, my sweet love." Hand to her jaw, you held her steady. "You already do."

You held a pause, feeling how Yelena's hands found the ends of her own leather jacket and pulled you in as soon as the word 'love' left your mouth. The distant lights of the city far below framed her prettily, and you knew you'd be looking up at the stars come morning, wishing you could be back here.

"I would look for you in every person I meet," You told her easily, your hands sliding through her blonde hair as your forehead fell against hers. "You are it for me, now and forevermore." Your upper lip brushed hers, whispering into her mouth.

"All is perfect if I'm with you."

Yelena kissed the words the moment you spoke them, over and over. Her arms circled your waist beneath her jacket, fingers pressing against the curve of your spine and pulling you closer, closer, closer. Until her heart beat with yours.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Yelena’s taglist is open, let me know if you’d like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

[chrisevansonly]

𝐀 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you love your boyfriend really you do, but you also love cats…and a little kitten managed to steal your attention away from you very clingy lando..

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: no warnings just fluffy

𝐚/𝐧: this was self indulgent, i just wanted fluff and idk i feel so shitty and nasty about myself and i needed fluffy lando goodness

Off season was in full swing which meant you and Lando were back in London together for a few weeks before you took off on your travel adventures. It was nice to have some quality time with your favourite boy in the world, and the first thing on your list was groceries.

Lando as usual let you do the shopping as he dotted on you, his hand in yours, on your waist or wrapped around you as you reached for your favourite cereal

“Lan you really aren’t being much help..”

“Mhm I am.”

“So you wrapping yourself around me like a koala is helping?”

He smiled into your neck, leaving a few kisses to your collarbone

“Exactly”

“Can you at least put your arms to use and grab our cereal before you continue to squeeze me into pieces?”

You shook your head, your voice teasing as he unwrapped himself from you, reaching up and grabbing two boxes before dropping them in the kart. Letting you continue your way down the aisle, Lando of course attached back to you as you checked off your list and made your way up to check out.

Once everything was payed for and bagged you made your way to the car, putting everything in trunk of Lando’s range rover, not without a few kisses to your cheek and of course a very Lando like squeeze to your butt.

“There, now we can stop ordering take out”

“I like our takeout nights..”

Turning to see the pout on your boyfriends face you smiled, your arms wrapping around his neck as you leaned up to kiss him

“I know but now we have fresh and healthy things so I can get back to cooking…we can still have takeout on Friday’s how about that?”

Lando thought about it before nodding

“Deal, I love you”

“I love y-kitten!!”

Your arms quickly dropped making the british driver frown, moving to walk slowly towards the little grey kitten just perched next to the car beside you. It’s little eyes watching you carefully as you kneeled down

“Oh hi my love…come here it’s okay..”

The kitten moved towards you at the sound of your voice, of course keeping it soft as to not scare it away

“Hi little one”

Lando watched with a frown as you scooped up the little cat, clearly feeling a little pouty that you ditched him for the cat

“Lan look at it! It’s so small and cute!!”

“No way.”

You looked at him, your puppy dog eyes coming into effect

“Absolutely not angel, no WAY”

“But-but Lan look at him, we can’t just leave him here he’s so little!”

Lando was close to breaking, even you could see it.

“Baby we are always away, we don’t have time for a cat…”

He was right to some degree, but you were often home more than him, and worst case you could find a sitter for the cat. Your brain had begun to find a solution for every possible problem Lando could come to with.

“Please…oh lan please we-I can’t leave him here..I promise i’ll make sure I take the best care of him…”

Lando would admit the grey fluff ball was cute, and that look you had on your face was pretty sweet too, how could he say no to you, especially when you looked so happy

“Alright fine”

“Thank you thank you thank you baby!!!”

Cradling the kitten in your arms you leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips, his arms wrapping around you as he held onto you tightly

“Next thing you know I’ll be the crazy cat dad like Max”

“Max has two cats love..”

“He’s still crazy..”

Shaking your head at Lando’s dramatics you kissed him once more before walking towards your car, your new little family member happy in your arms, sound asleep. A kitten distraction is what Lando would call it, but if you’re happy, he’s happy, even if he’s starting to realize he needs to share your attention.

And he’s just not sure he’s ready to do that…

[freaktoru]

Hi, I'm actually a new follower I love your Igris bf head cannons, I'm not if you've done Manager Woo, 👉👈 I'm a sucker for this man.

✰ pairing: woo jinchul x reader ✰ summary: what woo jinchul would be like as your boyfriend! ✰ warnings: smut, fluff a/n: yk what...ur onto something with him. i hope i did a good job of characterizing him! sadly we get literal crumbs of him in the anime and manhwa but regardless enjoy <333 likes and reblogs always appreciated!

hes a go-getter, he knows what he wants and he will not stop at anything to get it.

in this case, it's you.

he'll be the one to ask you out and he'll take you on a date, somewhere really nice in the city.

super straight forward and bold, he will be the one to ask you to be his significant other

this man works like there's no tomorrow, he's always at the office, always in a meeting or even at home he's always WORKING.

it kinda pisses u off... but he gets that bank soooo you don't complain

likes expensive things

lives in a super modern penthouse apartment in the heart of seoul and drives a super expensive sleek black car

i mean being the right hand man of the chairman of the hunters association does have it's perks right?

spends his lunch breaks only with you <3

his coworkers want to have lunch? hell no. he's spending every spare minute he has with you.

lovessss when you visit him at work and bring him food or coffee to his office!!

a city man at heart.

really likes exploring coffee shops with you

and shopping omgggg he loves to buy you expensive jewelry and nice clothes.

his baby gotta look good next to him.

while he's straight forward and all his communication style can be kind of confusing. he comes off as super blunt and direct and unknowingly hurts your feelings sometimes

but don't worry, if he does, he'll apologize for it later by eating you out.

doesn't like to cook, he's a takeout kind of guy but if you cook him food? he'll be on his knees within minutes.

very very protective. always has a hand on your waist in public, or always touching you in some way to make sure no one can hurt you while he's not looking!

his love language is definitely gift giving and physical touch

buys you flowers AT LEAST once a week

and you know they're the most expensive ones too...

really likes showering together. it does not count as a good shower if he has to do it alone.

he's got really healthy habits and loves sticking to a routine.

morning run, workouts after work, healthy food, protein shakes you name it he probably incorporates it into his busy schedule somehow. tbh he's so inspirational.

likes when you practice these habits with him!! like going to the gym together :p and fucking in the locker room

hates deviating from his routine, i think he's kinda anal about how and when things are done.

just be consistent with the man that's all he asks

but despite his serious demeanor he is so lovey and sweet <3

very cuddly and loves spending his weekends cuddling up on the couch together to watch movies

likes having an arm wrapped around you when he sleeps.

feeling sad? he'll give you the best, most tender hugs.

super great at comfort. he's super direct but also great at knowing when you want solutions vs when you just want to rant (we need more men like him fr.)

onto the spice:

has insane stamina and a HIGH sex drive.

a bit of an exhibitionist

likes semi-public sex, hes just not patient enough to wait until you two get home

OFFICE SEX! fucks you rough on his desk late at night.

thigh riding. fucking loves having you ride his thigh like a needy puppy when he's working.

"keep it goin' baby you're doing well" his warm whisper hits the shell of your ear and sends light shivers of pleasure down your spine. you're desperately rubbing yourself against his thigh, needing more than just the friction from his nice, expensive dress pants. but he won't give it to you. no, he likes you all worked up and fucked out BEFORE he even thinks about putting his dick inside of you. "jinchul e-enough, just fuck me already" you whine between sobs, pushing and pounding your curled up fist on his chest. but he doesn't take well to whiny, needy brats like you. "i told you to be patient" he grabs hold of your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "do that again and i won't be so merciful" he whispers, his voice low and seductive, before turning back to his computer to work.

lmfao i'm down bad

anyways

he's lowkey a fucking freak. he appears to be so locked into his job and so serious all the time but that man needs to get that pent up stress and anger out somewhere.

you're his favorite outlet <3

huge fan of morning sex before work. he claims it gets him going for the day lol

even if you don't have to wake up as early as him he will wake you up with a cock in your warm, wet pussy and fuck you slow and good in missionary.

this is your favorite way to wake up.

also really likes car sex. after every date, any grocery run, honestly anytime you're in the car with him the two of you will fuck.

HUGE fan of blowjobs. SUCK THIS MAN OFF!!!

remember how i said he likes showering with you? well obviously that entails shower sex. he will fuck you so good against those expensive, marble, shower tiles of his.

[studiogrimm810]

Not Good For You

pairings/characters: sam winchester x gn!you, dean is barely there

summary: when sam realizes his feelings for you he gets scared and distances himself from you and you confront him about it

warnings: sexual tension, light make-out scene, self doubt

word count: 2,682

A/N: i'm thinking of doing a part two as a follow up smut scene, currently undecided but i would love to hear your thoughts!!

(edit: i made a part 2!! Good Enough)

———————

The three of you had just gotten back from the police station. The boys had used their FBI badges to get information on some disappearances around town and Sam was confident enough that he had enough information to research what they would be hunting. Dean led the way into the motel room and quickly shed off his jacket and loosened his tie. Sam followed suit, rolling up his sleeves before grabbing his computer bag and sitting at the table provided in the motel's kitchenette.

Sam calls out your name, “do you wanna help?” He asks with a small, warm smile and gesturing to a chair across from him.

“‘Course,” you go grab your own bag and pull out your laptop and notebook. You settle in across from Sam and look up to see Dean flipping through the notes that Sam made.

“I’m really thinking it’s a witch. God, I hate witches,” Dean grumbles, setting the notes back down in front of Sam.

“I’m sure you’re right, but we need to figure out its motive and pattern,” Sam sets his chin in his hand, scrolling through his laptop. You grab Sam's notes and flip through the small pages, getting a glimpse over the information.

You start your research and Dean makes a few more phone calls. Every few minutes or so, you catch Sam looking at you and you give him a small smile but he just looks back down at his laptop.

Your recent relationship with Sam has been a bit tense. When you met the brothers a year or so ago, you started to team up every now and again with them when you were working the same case, but for the past few weeks you had followed them on the road from town to town. You three worked together like a well-oiled machine and you honestly wouldn’t pass up spending more time with Sam who had become a dear friend. Although, this is the fourth case in a row you’ve worked together and it seems like Sam has been getting quieter and quieter the more you’re in his presence.

Dean, however, had been ecstatic. He very much enjoyed your company and kept asking for your help with new hunts. You wondered if this was something he ever thought to run by Sam first.

It was odd, usually there was this spark between you and Sam, you had gotten along beautifully and became quite a good team. Sam seemed to enjoy the hours of research you’d help with and the extra set of eyes to witness and make fun of Dean and his dad-humor.

There had also been this current between you two- electric and heated.

Or maybe you just imagined it.

Because the way Sam was acting now was as if you two were just stuck together for a class assignment.

And it was starting to really piss you off.

An hour or so passes before Dean mentioned getting food and left to order takeout from somewhere.

Sam had undone a few of his buttons and completely discarded his tie by now, and his hair was a little messy from how often he had been running his hands through it. The sun was starting to set and you decided to be done with research because the glare of the sun on your screen was giving you a headache. Sam's head popped up for a moment to watch your hands close the lid but he darted his look back to his own screen.

“Are you okay?” You finally blurt out, looking at him with furrowed brows and a mixed look of confusion and little hurt. His head pops back up for a moment, a little taken back. The way his mouth moves nervously and eyes leave your face makes you think he knows that you’ve picked up on his behavior.

“I’m fine,” he smiles with a small nod, unconvincingly. You sigh softly and look down for a moment before speaking again.

“I think after this hunt I’m gonna head west for a while, check out the coast,” you say, stacking your notebook and laptop to shove it back in your bag. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his face soften into his trademark puppy-dog look but he quickly fixes his face and just nods.

“Okay, yeah,” he clears his throat and closes the lid of his laptop. It’s awkward for a moment. Your hands still hold your bag as you’re leaning over from putting away your items, stuck for a moment to decide what you’re gonna do next. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been tired,” he adds, you can tell he really is sorry, but he’s still lying. 

You drop your hold on your bag and straighten your posture again. “That’s not it,” you state, wanting him to just admit whatever it is that’s going on. “You’re different and I don’t like it,” you continue, looking over his face for a reaction. He swallows and looks down, he’s thinking something deeper, clearer, but he won’t admit it. “Just tell me what’s wrong, please,” you push, knowing- hoping that he will just give in.

It’s quiet for a moment or two before he speaks again. “I think I’m just a bit burnt out from the job,” he says, packing away his own study items in his bag and standing to walk to his bed. You stand with him.

“Sam- don’t bullshit me, I know you,” you scoff, following him. He sets his bag down and spins around to you.

“You don’t know me and I don’t have to tell you everything,” he defends, “You're just a friend helping us out with a few cases, I don’t owe you anything,” he bites, you can tell his heart is pounding from the way his shoulders rise and fall with each breath. You take a step back, not used to this behavior from Sam.

You don’t know what to say. His words cut through your chest like a knife and you feel furious. You look over his face for any hint of an explanation for this behavior because you had never seen him like this before, he had always openly and readily shared his thoughts or feelings. The both of you have had numerous meaningful conversations in the past so you don't understand why he’s lashing out like this.

“Sam-“ you’re at a loss for words, hurt by his outburst, you’re not sure if you should give into your own anger and argue back or try to stay calm and talk him down. Sam lets out a huff of heavy air, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders slump. He runs a hand through his still messy hair. You try to ignore the way his hair, worn-in shirt, and panting frustration make him look and really, if his anger wasn’t directed at you, it would be a lot harder to contain your thoughts.

“Sam, you can talk to me,” you settle for calm coaxing, knowing your own burst of anger won’t help anybody right now. He turns to pace to the other side of the motel room, you just watch him. You can tell he’s trying to gather his thoughts which seem to be spilled everywhere like an annoying red wine, staining his mind- overcoming him completely. He stops for a moment and you can tell he’s just about come up with something to say.

“It’s complicated,” he sounds so defeated as he follows his words with your name, addressing you completely as his eyes meet your own. You would never understand how such a tall, broad, strong man could sometimes look so beautifully pitiful when overwhelmed with emotion just as he is now. Somehow, even when having a good difference of height over you, he’s found a way to look up at you.

“Take your time,” you say without missing a beat, trying to reassure him that you’re there for him. He’s quiet again and for a second his eyes dip down to your lips or neck, or maybe both. You take a few steps closer, showing him again that you’re here for him. “Something is up with you and I just want to help. Is it me? I know I’ve been around a lot lately and-“

“No, no. It’s not you,” he takes an instinctive step forward, “you’re never the problem.” He shakes his head softly, his gaze has altered slowly over the past few moments and now he’s looking back down on you, a look you’re more used to seeing from him. He’s gathered himself again- well, his confidence at least- because his hand reaches up in a gentle fist to let his thumb caress your cheek.

You’re stunned for a moment, not used to such a ginger and intimate touch from him. Your brows furrow slightly and you tilt your head, not meaning to lean into his hold more but not complaining.

His eyes search your face again and this time you can discern when he’s looking at your lips or neck or eyes. There’s a triad of emotion going on in his eyes but you don’t think you could list which three. They’ve clouded his vision and absorbed the previous stain, funneling it all through to his own lips but instead of speaking, he swiftly opens the span of his fist to hook his fingertips at the catch of your neck and pull you up to him. You’re so taken off guard at the quick movement that you stumble but his other hand is quick to press to your lower back and steady you against his hold, engulfing you completely.

Your hands were lifted in surprise but now idle as you melt into him, letting him support your balance fully. His hand slips back a bit into your hair and ever so slightly twists around a strand. The taste of him alone is enough to short-circuit your mind but the independent touches of his hands on your body and his chest pressed to yours make you weak.

He’s giving his all into this kiss- the good, the bad, the anger and the pain.

As your lips unlock you hold back a whine of discontent and he rests his forehead on yours, caressing your cheek with his thumb and his eyes still closed.

He’s so warm, all you can really focus on is how warm he is.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his face overlaid with pain. You pull back enough to look up at him.

“Why are you apologizing?” You ask, still a little dizzy and probably a lot flushed.

“I can’t do this to you,” he mutters and lets go of you completely, taking a step back. Cold air quickly wraps around you and you really want him to hold you again.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, taking a step closer to him but he matches your dance and backs up in sync and that hurts. “Sam-” you call softly, trying to get him to look at you again.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair again. “I can’t do this to you,” he scoffs as if seeing himself as a joke. He sits on the edge of his bed and you just stand for a minute, completely confused.

“Talk to me, Sam,” you plead softly, sitting beside him and you’re relieved when he doesn’t move away or tense up.

“I can’t do this to you,” he repeats and the tone in his voice makes it seem like he thinks it will answer all of your questions if he says it enough.

“Do what?” You push.

“I just can’t,” his eyes squeeze closed in ignorant pain, trying to avoid your gaze and forget everything he’s feeling, “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not good for you,” he scoffs out again, finding dry humor in his own misery, “and I can’t be selfish with you. The life you and I live is dangerous, but together it’s damn near suicidal. I can’t do that to you, I can’t put you in danger- I’m not safe for you,” he says, voice thick with emotion and packed with a thousand more unspoken words- words that quite frankly wouldn’t do him justice. “I’m so sorry.” He peppers your name a few times through his raw explanation and each time he addresses you it makes your stomach flutter and refills the rosy flush on your cheeks. Honestly, you could smack him for kissing you like that just to apologize and speak of it as if it were a mistake.

“How long have you felt like this?” His admittance of feelings for you makes complete sense when paired with his distancing from you, as much as you hate to admit, you understand.

“I’ve always known I’m bad for the people around me,” his words break your heart, he really thinks that? “I’ve accepted that but I can’t let you get caught up in our mess,” he means Dean too.

“Sam, everyone has a mess, and you are not bad for the people around you,” you state, believing every word. He shakes his head with a small scoff, immediately brushing you off. “No, Sam, listen to me,” you grab his hand and squeeze it gently, his eyes drag to your grip and his face softens. “You are good. You are kind and generous and you have a good heart and good intentions. You aren’t bad for the people around you, you protect and love and care for your people and it shows,” you can tell he’s listening to and battling your words in his wine-stained mind, a mess you can’t even imagine, “I know that the life we lead isn’t a damn picnic and I also know that maybe it isn’t the smartest idea but what I do know is that if we have a chance to make ourselves happier then we’re idiots if we give that up.”

You let him absorb every thought at his own pace, the quiet like a blanket of comfort for you both.

He finally looks back up at you, every inch of his face showcasing the internal battle he’s having with himself.

“This isn’t smart,” he agrees with a small shake of his head, his eyes betraying him as they dip back down to your lips, hungry and needy. Fucking needy.

“We don’t always have to be, Sam,” you challenge softly, hoping to god that he’ll just give in and hold you and kiss you like that again.

His chest heaves softly, already panting- so fucking needy. The glint in his eyes show what you might as well call fear- of losing you and of having you.

His free hand grabs your chin gently but forcefully leads you to him, his warm lips taking yours again in a soft, sweet, terrifying battle of what-if’s and worst-cases. You grip his hand tighter and use the leverage to climb over top of him to get a batter angle, straddling his lap. His hands land on your hips and his fingers dig just enough to make you tremble at his grip. One hand remains as the other runs up your back and into your hair again, more forceful than your first kiss and way more intoxicating.

Your hands cup his jaw, guiding him along with your lips. He gets to guide your bodies, pressed close and sensual, but when it comes to his sweet mouth you take lead. You can tell your own forcefulness on him makes him feel weak by the sounds that escaped his and your collided lips.

He pulls back for a moment to get a good look at you, hair messy, lips puffy and cheeks flushed. He quickly lifts you and places you on your back on the bed. “I warned you,” he murmured, crawling back over you and letting his hand cup your neck again- a ghost of his previous hold.

To be fair, he really did warn you.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

[jezabelle9299]

Make-up Birthday S.R x FEM! Reader

Overture: Spencer didn't just miss your birthday he forgot it. (Happy Ending)

C-Ws: Missed occasions, pushing down feelings for the benefit of another person, Spencer chose Gideon over you

A/N- Baby's first angst, go easy on me. And I've been in a sour mood so I have 2 other angst fics (also birthday themed), that will probably be posted sometime this week. Our regularly scheduled sap will return next week.

You weren’t a very big birthday person. Of course when you were young you had birthday parties with all of your little friends, but as time went on, things got busy. It was pushed to the side for years, until you preferred to just ignore it. Until a few weeks ago, when Spencer asked what you’d like to do to celebrate. You told him nothing was necessary, but he insisted that the two of you at least spend the day together. You let yourself get excited, you made good plans, just takeout and movie night, but that was enough. If it were anyone else you’d remind him, several times, but you knew he wouldn’t forget. He didn’t forget anything.

This morning you woke up to an empty bed, and you knew Spencer had gone to work. He had a few meetings he mentioned having to go to about their latest cases, but you weren't expecting him until this evening. The day passed you by when you got set up, but time slowed down when there was nothing to do but wait. Each second passed a little slower than the last, until you got worried. You haven't heard from Spencer all day. 

You: Hey Spence, everything ok?

Spence: I’m ok, just got caught up at work. I’ll come to your place as soon as I can. 

You: Ok, see you then

You were glad he was ok, and you knew he’d rather be with you, than at work. Something important must’ve come up, he wouldn’t miss this over nothing. But time passed with no more texts, until you resigned yourself to him just not coming. You changed from your date outfit into some comfy pajamas, and laid down in bed. You weren’t upset with Spencer, this job was important to him, and you knew he felt like he had something to prove just being there. You could celebrate another day.

It wasn't until well after nine when Gideon asked Spencer what he was still doing here, he’d mentioned weeks ago that he’d need to leave early. That’s when Spencer realized what he was missing. It wasn’t just movie night, by now he’d missed almost your entire birthday, after he’d pressed you to celebrate it at all. He rushed out as quickly as possible, but by the time he got to your place it was too late. He knocked on the door and as soon as you answered, all the apologies came pouring out. He couldn’t make himself stop until you put your hands on either side of his face making him look you in the eyes. 

“It’s ok Spence, I know how important your job is, and we can celebrate another day.”  

He leaned down to hug you, burying his face in your neck. “I’m so sorry honey, it totally slipped my mind. But I promise to make it up to you.” You pulled away from him at that. 

“Wait, what do you mean?” He just looked at you, like he was replaying what he said to figure out what he did wrong. 

“You–you forgot?” 

“I thought you knew.”

“No, I didn’t. I had this picture in my mind, like when you leave for cases, when you tell me how you wish you could be here.”

“I do wish I was here, baby. You mean the world to me.” You couldn’t keep doing this, his reassurance was breaking you down bit by bit. Sure now he wished he was there, but he didn’t even realize you were missing him. 

“I’m gonna go for a drive I think, we don’t have to celebrate another day, it’s fine.” 

“No please stay– please let me make this up to you.” His phone rang. A shrill tone cutting through, nearly making you wince.

“It’s Gideon, I have to take this. But please stay with me, I want to talk about this. It’ll only take a minute.” 

“It’s fine, I’ll talk to you tomorrow Spence, just remember to lock up when you leave ok?” You picked up your shoes and keys before you walked out, still in your pajamas. You gave him not even half of a smile, and it was breaking his heart. But he couldn’t ignore the call.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Gideon was like a father to him, and even though he winced when the door shut behind you, quietly, as if you weren’t even upset, he still answered. There wasn’t even a case, Gideon just had a question about some evidence. Nothing would’ve happened if he didn’t answer, no one was dying, and the only one hurt was you. He couldn’t have just ignored the call, and now you were gone. 

Spencer didn’t forget anything, but somehow he forgot this. 

You weren't sure where you’d go. You decided to allow yourself one evening to be upset. To acknowledge that this whole situation sucks and honestly today your usually wonderful boyfriend kind of sucks too. You’ll feel guilty about it tomorrow, but tonight you're going to drive an hour and a half down the highway, just to turn back around so you could avoid the drunk drivers on the road when the bars close. Spencer should be gone by then, you’re sure Gideon was calling to steal your boyfriend away on a case again and you’d call him in the morning to make sure he got there ok and tell him to be safe like you always did. 

What Spencer did was important, and you couldn’t be mad at him for missing something as silly as a birthday for a work problem. But he wasn’t out saving lives like you thought. It may be selfish or overly-presumptuous about your standing in his life, but when you missed him it made you feel better to think he was missing you just as much. How he was at work thinking about how he loved you. And today was the day that illusion shattered.

You could only sob at the thought. 

By the time you got home, it was almost 1am. The redness in your eyes finally started to subside, you got too dehydrated to continue actually crying almost an hour ago, so that’s when you decided that the time for being upset over this was done. Even the puffiness in your face was going down. But when you unlocked the door, Spencer was waiting for you. 

“You’re home.” 

“You’re here. I thought you had a case.” 

“No, Gideon just had a question about some evidence, I wanted to be here when you got back.” 

“That’s sweet of you Spencer, but I just went for a quick drive. I’m kind of tired, so I think I’m just going to head to bed now, ok? But I’ll see you in the morning.” You gave him a resigned kiss on the forehead and his heart broke. He did this. And you called him Spencer, not ‘Spence’, not ‘honey’, not ‘babe’. Spencer. It never sounded so awful. 

He did all he could do, he slept on the couch and let you rest. You would be talking about this in the morning. You couldn’t shut him out forever, he loved you too much.  

The beeping of the coffee machine woke him up, his legs half hanging off your couch. He immediately got up. If the coffee machine was going off, you were awake, and you could talk about last night. 

“Honey?”

“Hi, I didn’t realize you’d stayed here last night, were you too tired to drive?”

“No, but I wanted to be here when you woke up.”

“You could've slept in my bed with me.” You were glad he didn’t. But you wanted to maintain your facade, you wanted to forgive him, and forget about everything.

“You’re upset with me, I wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m not upset.”

“You’re the love of my life and I hurt you. You don’t have to pretend to be ok with it.”

“It was one day, Spencer. It’s fine, you don’t have to sleep on the couch as penance.” You were putting on your coolest presence, but everything you said still came out as more of a mumble than it would’ve. 

“I need you to listen to me, you are the most important person in my life. I love you so much it hurts, and I can’t stand the thought of you thinking I forgot about you.” That broke your barely held together exterior of confidence.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I need you to know that I love you, I can’t just let this go.”

“Ok fine. You made me celebrate my birthday and when you forgot anyway, it hurt my feelings. But I don’t want a makeup birthday, and I wish I could just forget about it, and I don’t understand why you want me to be mad at you.”

“I don’t want you to be mad, but when you are mad, I need you to tell me. I can’t do anything to help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“But I don’t want you to know when I’m upset. I want to be the cool girlfriend that doesn’t get upset when her boyfriend does something by accident. You are the best boyfriend I’ve ever had and when you make one mistake about something I wouldn’t have even cared about a month ago, I can’t get over it. But I really want to get over it, so could we please just forget about it?” By this point tears were flowing down your face, but you were still wiping your face every few seconds to stop them in their tracks.

“No we can’t just forget, I think you’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met, and it’s not because you ignore your feelings whenever you think they’d be inconvenient. I want to spend the day with you if you’d be ok with it, but if you want some time alone that’s ok too.”

“I want to spend the day with you. But could we leave out the birthday theme?”

“Sure honey, whatever you want, I’m all yours.”

“You know I love you Spence, right?”

“I know, I love you too.” It was an upsetting morning, but he was still overjoyed that you called him ‘Spence’ again. He’d earned his pet name back.

“Do you really think I’m cool?” It was barely spoken into his chest, moreso whined, muffled by the fabric of his sweater vest. At this moment, you were so uncool. Yet he still kissed your forehead as he laughed. 

“The coolest.”

[eemamminy-art]

Saw your reblog! Could have sworn I sent an ask in a bit ago but I’ll try again just in case. ^^

Hello! I really enjoy a lot of your Penny/Maru art and headcanons. However, recently I saw you were also fond of Jodi/Caroline. I was curious as to what headcanons you had of the two and/or if you had any possible art for the ship? :0

I did see your other ask, and I was hanging onto it because I actually haven't drawn Jodi/Caroline yet but I wanted to for a while, and didn't have time to reply this week until now! I also knew this was gonna take a while to write up haha so thanks for being patient

this is the first time I've drawn them! I put a little bit of how I draw Abigail and Sam into their features c:

Headcanons and stuff below the cut because it's really long

The whole ship for me spawned from like… when I was first playing stardew, I noticed Caroline has so much dialog about how she's frustrated with Pierre for being so consumed with work that he's absent when it comes to his family. She also doesn't seem to like being a homemaker, having lines about getting takeout often, while Pierre seems to value those things, as shown in that Abigail heart event where he wants her to help with the cooking at home 😬 And in Jodi's case, she's really badly overworked and talks repeatedly about regretting having kids so young and not being able to live her life. Though after learning more about Sam's storyline, I'm a little less empathetic toward Jodi as I initially was because she's the type of mom who takes on more work for herself and then complains she's overwhelmed, instead of like, having her kids or husband do chores to ease the burden. And like of course Jodi and Caroline are always talking together in the plaza, or at festivals 👀

So this is the basis: They're both unhappy with their families/husbands, and I could imagine a scenario where they both just throw it all away for each other. If you'd want it to be extra angsty, you could have them be really conflicted and question whether it was the right choice, but they've already come that far so they're afraid that they wouldn't be able to go back even if they wanted to now. I suppose you could also have them just be cheating on their husbands if that's your thing, but I personally hate infidelity and am really choosy about how and when it's used in a story, so I would be happier with them just cutting ties and running off together.

Since I've started writing my fic, and thus had them in it as side characters, I've started writing their husbands as all being more attentive than in the canon (Demetrius to Robin especially-- I know we're not talking about them currently but I'm such a ride or die for Demetrius I feel the need to say 😂) so I haven't thought as much about this ship as I did right when I very first got into stardew valley. But I think the potential is there!!

Maybe it starts as like.. they're having these green tea afternoons together and Caroline feels so good being appreciated and listened to for once, and Jodi feels so at peace being able to relax even just for a few minutes, that they're like oh god… I kind of want this forever. This, and nothing else. It's a selfish choice but it's also something understandable, given how unhappy they are and how much they've put their families before themselves. What if for once, they put themselves first and just absolutely salt the earth on their way out? 👀

I think also that Caroline gives off the vibes that she's adventurous? It's kinda implied in some of her dialog (I think especially if you romance Abigail?) that she was a wild young woman who never saw herself settling down even though she ultimately did. In Jodi's case, she had Sam so young she never got to properly enjoy her youth. So I think they would have a blast together living out the wild 20's they never got to experience now that they're women in their 40's :3 and they kiss of course that's the most important part 😂

[poppadom0912]

Jay’s Masterplan

Summary: 5 times Jay's plans failed and 1 time it kind of worked out.

A/N: @desimarie12 who asked for a part two of Sylvie’s Masterplan. But, this can also be read as a standalone. I changed and expanded on your idea a lot. I got a little carried away and wrote 3.7k words

I’ve got a few more asks in my inbox left to finish for this 1k celebration so they’ll be coming out very slowly by the end of this week. I’m considering this to be part of it. I hope you enjoy!!

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

1.

It had been two days since your birthday, two days since Sylvie had been incredibly sneaky and achieved one of her biggest accomplishments in life: getting you and jay to finally go on a date.

Said date was today and the past two days had been filled with nothing but anticipation and excitement and endless teasing and cheesy smiles from your sister who seemed as happy as you.

Jay claimed that he had everything under control. He was going to take you out and he would be in charge of everything. You had nothing to worry about – he insisted.

Your first date was going to be perfect.

Sylvie came over to help you get ready. She sat cross legged on your bed as you skimmed your closet and the possible dresses to wear, giving her input when needed. She helped do your hair when time was running out and you were close to running the risk of being late.

Then the doorbell rang and before you could worry any further, she was pushing you out the door, quelling all your worries with the promise that she would clean up the mess that was your bedroom before she went back home.

You didn’t miss the sly smirk on her face when you opened the door, and Jay couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Be good and have fun kids! Make sure you use protection!” Sylvie smiled, waving you off like a mother.

You could hear her cackles after you let out a weird, almost unattractive noise, embarrassed at her words. “Sylvie!”

“I’m so sorry about her, she’s…”

“She’s being Sylvie.”

Jay was very chivalrous, opening the car door for you before he got in himself. The entire car ride had been filled with comfortable chatter and your pre-date jitters had started to die down.

His story was suddenly cut off by a traffic jam. Cars were beeping and drivers were shouting out each other. You had to roll your window to try understand what was happening.

You heard the words 9-1-1 and ambulance being shouted by numerous voices and both of you were already getting out, sharing a quick glance, exchanging no words.

You followed Jay towards the crushed cars, the smoke piling up was now a cause for concern.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" Jay asked a woman who was stumbling out her car. She held her bloodied head and tripped over her feet disorientated.

"Come with me please. I'm a nurse, I can check you out." You said, moving towards the woman, offering an arm for her to hold onto which she did without question.

Leading her towards the pavement, you looked back at Jay whose eyes hadn't left you, making sure you were safe and had everything under control.

Smiling, you nodded slightly, giving him all the assurance he needed to leave you and do his own thing.

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

2.

So the first date was a bit of a flop.

You ended up going to the hospital with one of the victims involved in the crash and at the end of the night, it had gotten too late to continue with Jay's original plans.

All that was possible was a small takeout at you apartment. In your opinion, this had been one of your most memorable first dates ever.

But, Jay wasn't satisfied. He was committed to taking you out on a proper date, he wasn't taking no for an answer.

It was now two weeks later, both your afternoons lining up together perfectly.

Due to a small timing problem, you would be meeting Jay at the park. He had to sort something out at work really quickly but that gave you enough time to set everything up to your exact preferences.

You knew Jay would have wanted more of a say in the set up but you wanted to contribute something. You brought a cute picnic blanket and a few small foods to nibble on.

Bored, you started picking on the mini charcuterie board you made, eating the cracker as you surveyed the park.

It was nice and peaceful. All the kids were in school, most people at work and only a few people were in the park, walking their dogs or going for a quick midday run.

All of a sudden, you were brought out your reverie by a light tapping on your shoulder. Looking over, you saw a small chubby hand retreating from your shoulder.

Following it, you found yourself looking at a child who couldn't be any older than two.

"Hello." You smiled softly at the little girl, her hair in two small pigtails that held just enough hair to tie up, the tiniest purple trainers and the cutest dungarees. "Honey are you lost?"

She shook her head, her finger pointing at the cracker in your hand. "I have cracker please?"

You swooned, internally aweing and cooing at her voice. Despite being a labour and delivery nurse, you could never get over your baby fever.

"Oh! You want a cracker?" You replied, already picking up a cracker to give to her which she took with the cheekiest smile on her face, her dimples almost blinding you.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Her pronunciation was slightly off but that only made her cuter.

Without any further prompting, she sat opposite you, her legs crossed as she started to eat.

You were so confused and caught up in this little girl that you hadn't seen Jay entering the park. You unfortunately missed the moment his face lit up the second he noticed you.

Walking towards you, his smile slowly turned into a confused frown as he caught sight of the toddler sitting with you.

"Sylvie never mentioned you were a mum."

You jumped, head whipping up to look at him in alarm. "Jay! Hey!"

You stood up, wrapping him in a quick hug and pressing a light kiss on his cheek before pulling away to look down at the toddler who was now on her second cracker.

"Yeah I have no idea where she came from but she asked very politely for some crackers." You said, your smile soft as watched her take a grape.

"No parents in sight?" Jay asked. Both of your eyes were stuck on her as if hypnotised.

"Literally no one is here but us Jay." You rolled your eyes, pointing out the obvious. "She literally appeared out of thin air."

"Cool." Jay hummed, nodding as if it was completely normal to have a random child come up to you and start eating your food.

You sighed wistfully, sitting back down in your spot, the little girl looking up as you did so.

"Is it yummy?" You asked, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the way her head titled to the side.

"Yes, yummy!" She nodded eagerly. "Thank you!"

"Your welcome darling." Gosh you were so gone for her and Jay took notice of how captivated you were of her.

"Gosh I just want to eat her." You said in an almost aggressive manner.

Jay totally didn't feel anything watching how you interacted with her. His heart definitely wasn't going all soft and gooey, his mind definitely wasn't wandering.

For a split second, Jay could envision a future with you.

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

3.

Third times a charm, at least that's what they say.

The two previous attempts of a first date hadn't been very successful. Your last date almost was, you didn't mind the company of the toddler but her parents needed to be found, a task that took over two hours.

Todays date was fool proof. Nothing, and Jay guaranteed it this time, nothing was going to go wrong.

On both of your days off, you both decided on lunch again. This time, unlike the past two, you were successfully able to sit and eat an entire meal without anything going awry.

Just like Jay said, nothing had gone wrong and it was almost the perfect first date.

The only thing left to make this perfect would be-

Gunshots.

Wait, that wasn't right. Gunshots were the opposite of perfection, they would ruin everything.

Gunshots?

Screams echoed in the distance and instantly, Jay was running, his hand tightening its grip around yours.

You mentally cursed yourself for choosing to wear heels.

Jay was shouting some words down his radio that he conveniently carried on him at all times. You could recognise him calling his team for backup.

Turning the corner, you were almost away from the direction of the shooting when all of a sudden, something whizzed past you and Jay groaned.

"Oh my God!" You reacted on instinct.

With the hand still holding his, you pulled him towards you and immediately inspected and gingerly held his bleeding bicep.

"Okay good, you'll be fine, it's just a graze." You sighed in relief as you took off your cardigan, wrapping it around the wound, ignoring Jay asking for you not to ruin such a nice pattern.

"I'll be fine, I can wait for an ambo-"

Jay stopped himself when you looked up at him deadpanned, mouth closing as he petulantly let you tighten up your knot.

"I'm the professional here Jay Halstead so you listen to me." You didn't break eye contact as you tightened it even more to the point that he let out a miniscule wince. "Just wait till I tell your brother about this."

"Wait, Y/N, you don't have to tell Will. Don't tell him please."

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

4.

Fourth time around, you were slowly starting to lose hope at ever having a successful first date with the man.

At this rate, you were becoming kinda desperate to the point where you were contemplating getting Sylvie involved and having her plan everything since she was clearly much better than both you and Jay combined.

You left the house with your expectations very low and you were right to have done so because not even ten minutes after leaving your house, you suddenly found yourself bagless.

The man had been so quick with it that you had no time to even react.

You weren't even surprised, just disappointed that you hadn't been holding your bag tighter. You should've known better.

Damn. Your phone was in your bag too.

Sighing, you turned around. Your destination changed now. You needed to go to the 21st precinct now.

One thing was on your side today since the walk was under ten minutes and you had worn the appropriate footwear this time too.

Entering the precinct, you smiled and waved at Trudy. You had been well acquainted with the older woman through Sylvie and Mouch.

"Hey Trudy, do you by any chance know if Jay's already left?" You asked nervously, now realising that this all could've been a waste of time if he already left to go to your date.

Trudy studied you closely, eyes squinted as she tried to figure out what was happening. "You two still haven't gone on a date yet? You want me to have a word with him Brett?"

You chuckled, appreciating her protective nature. "No it's okay but I think I was just robbed."

Trudy wasn't laughing with you. Her face dropped, eyes wide at your confession.

"Then why you standing around here for?" She huffed incredulously as she rounded her desk and started pulling you towards the Intelligence gates.

"Come on, we're going to confront lover boy."

She gave you no time to answer back as you were already in the bullpen, everyone staring at you with lots of confusion.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Jay asked, eyes going to the clock when a wave of fear crashed over him. "There's still twenty minutes till our reservation-"

"Brett 2.0 has been robbed." Trudy said, not wanting to waste any more time. "What a boyfriend you are huh?"

Both of you ignored that last part, everyone's eyes widening at the statement.

"Shit- are you hurt?" Jay asked, chucking his file aside and striding towards you, taking you in his arm and inspecting your body for any visible injuries.

"I'm completely fine, untouched." You assured him, taking hold of his hands to stop his unnecessary worrying. "It's just my bag - phone, wallet, keys, cards all that stuff."

"We'll find it." Jay stated, no hesitation or doubt in his words. "I'll track your phone and hopefully we'll find this man."

"We'll need another rain check." You said sadly, trying not to show too much disappointment.

"It's okay, don't worry about that." Jay shook his head.

"As long as your okay and safe - that's all that matters."

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

5.

The night had started off without a hitch and you were trying not to think about it too much.

This had all been very last minute. Jay had randomly called you, inviting you out to the very fancy restaurant that neither of your salaries could afford.

Apparently, he helped someone out at work and they owned the restaurant. So as a favour, they wanted to let him and a friend have a free dinner.

Jay wasn't going to pass on this opportunity, especially if he could take you on a date.

You were both dressed up the most fancily either of you had been for any of your failed attempts of dates. It was safe to say that Jay was even more attractive, if that was even possible, when he put a little extra effort in.

All your food had been ordered and your conversation had been flowing smoothly from one topic to the next. You had to cross all your fingers and toes to not jinx yourself.

Before the food could come, you quickly excused yourself to the restroom. You needed to go really quick and maybe touch up your face a little bit too.

The women's side was empty and so you wasted no time, quickly doing your business, washing your hands and fixing yourself in the very bougie mirror.

Reapplying your lip gloss and fixing a few stray hairs, you took a quick picture of yourself in the mirror, sending it to Sylvie before leaving.

As you went to pull the door handle, you recoiled, hissing and shaking your hand from the burning heat.

Hesitantly, you slowly moved your finger, wanting to touch it again really quickly to double check you weren't hallucinating.

Hissing again, your fears were confirmed. There was a fire.

Just great. This was perfect. Exactly what you wanted.

You had nothing on you to protect yourself. The shawl you brought had been taken by the hostess, the only sort of extra material you had on your person were the glasses cloth for your reading glasses.

But it wasn't nearly big enough to cover your face. It was good enough though to pull the door handle without inflicting too much damage on your hand.

Blowing out a puff of air, you psyched yourself up, bouncing a little in your heels. You had no idea how bad the fire was but either way, you had to be prepared to move.

Just as you pulled the door open, your phone started ringing. But you were already on the move now and answering the phone wasn't a part of the mini plan you just formulated.

So, like the smart individual you were, you ignored your buzzing phone and tried to make your way out of the smoke.

It was quite thick considering the time frame. You didn't think you were gone for too long but you were struggling to see through the smoke, let alone make your way through it.

Trying to keep ahold of your breath, you squinted to try make out the corridor and the walls. The restaurant was the type of fancy that all the walls were identical and in this disorientated state, it was even harder to distinguish where you were going.

You were starting to struggle with your breath, you'd have to inhale soon so you had to get out of here fast.

Tripping over your feet, you caught yourself on the wall, coincidentally another metal handle that was hot. Without thinking, you pulled your hand away and you fell to your knees.

You weren't able to overthink everything like you normally would.

Wincing, you quickly pulled yourself up and this time, you couldn't avoid breathing and inhaling the smoke. Your coughing fit was expected but that didn't make it any less pleasant.

Ignoring the tingling in your knees, you dragged yourself to stand straight, cloth back over your mouth and moving again towards any sort of exit.

"Call out!"

You paused. Did you hear that right?

"Call out!"

No, you were actually hearing it. If you had to guess, that sounded like the man your sister was deeply in love in. If it wasn't Matt that was shouting then you were truly losing it.

Deciding to risk it, you called out. "Matt?!"

There was a pause before you heard a commotion. "Y/N! Call out again!"

Stifling your coughs, you listened, calling out again as you moved towards the sound of his voice.

If it wasn't for the adrenaline flooding your veins, you would've deflated in relief at the familiar sight of the firefighter, a few men behind him who you couldn't recognise as the smoke was getting thicker.

Without any further word, Matt pulled you towards him and started escorting you away, shouting a few words at his men. "Y/N was there anyone else back there with you?"

You shook your head, coughing again. "No, it's only me."

It took a moment but as soon as you were outside, relief could've drowned you.

Despite all the beautiful fresh air, it welcomed you with an even more wonderful coughing fit.

In a blurry of motions, you found yourself being gently moved to sit down on a stretcher.

"Y/N, oh my gosh, thank goodness." You recognised Sylvie instantly without even looking. You could hear the tears wanting to escape in the thickness in her voice. "We were so scared."

Sylvie was multitasking, talking to you as she started fretting over you, checking for any visible injuries before starting to treat you for smoke inhalation.

"My hand." You rasped out when you realised she hadn't taken note of your trembling hands just yet.

"Shhh, don't talk." Sylvie gently caressed your arm before disappearing back into what you think is her ambulance.

You started blinking to get rid of the blurriness and the first thing you saw when you finally gained your somewhat clear vision was a harried looking Jay.

"Oh, hey."

"Hey you." Jay replied, a small smile that fell when he saw the breathing mask being put over your face and Sylvie beginning to bandage your hands. "Don't ever scare me like that, ever again you hear me?"

Just as you were going to reply, Jay shook his head, moving his hand back so that he wouldn't touch you. "Please, don't say anything."

The look on his face made you wish you still couldn't see properly. Looking into the smoke was less painful than looking at his face drowning in hurt.

"And don't you dare say sorry either or else this fire will be the least of your problems."

You sighed in relief, from both this newfound oxygen and from being reunited with Jay.

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

+1

Luckily for you, your injuries weren't too bad, just some smoke inhalation and third degree burns but you did have the stay overnight for observation.

The adrenaline was slowly starting to die down now that you were in the hospital. The room was silent and you could finally start to relax.

Before your thoughts could spiral, Jay re-entered the room, weirdly with a tray in hand.

"Don't talk, I asked Will and he advised you try not talk too much but if you must, then whisper please - for my sake."

You could only nod, your eyes trained on him as he made his way across the room towards you, placing the tray on the folding table.

As if knowing what you were going to ask him, a smile broke out on his face as he moved the little table towards you.

"Well, our date didn't go to plan, again, so I thought we'd do it here." He revealed, as he uncovered the tray of what you now knew was food from the hospital cafeteria.

"Now I know this wasn't the food we were going to have tonight but, you eat it everyday so there must be something to it." He shrugged, very smooth as he opened the individual packages.

"All the main dishes were gone but this can't be too bad."

Looking back at you, Jay was caught off guard at how you were staring at him. Despite everything that happened tonight, there was this softness and longing in your eyes that made his heart skip a beat.

The corner of your eyes were crinkling as they squinted. Even under the oxygen mask, it was so obvious that you were smiling, as bright as you did on your first failed date.

Jay wanted to make you smile that like for however long you allowed him to.

"Thank you." You whispered to him, blowing him a kiss from under the mask.

Jutting your head towards him, he didn't need any words to know what you were asking of him.

Taking off the oxygen mask and putting on the nasal canula, Jay made sure he was doing everything right, Will's words replaying in the back of his mind.

His touch was feather light, fingers much more colder than your way too warm cheeks.

"Okay so, sandwich first?" He asked, surveying the options again, waiting for your nod or shake of your head.

When you nodded, he opened the package and held it out to you so you could take a bite. Your hands were both bandaged making you incapable of doing anything yourself.

You smiled at him with your mouthful, your cheeks puffing out to express your gratitude for him.

As you chewed, he opened his own and also started to eat his dinner, alternating between feeding you and himself in comfortable silence.

This definitely wasn't what Jay had planned for your first date but it was definitely a memorable one and he wouldn't have you either way: happy and safe, well fed and content.

If this just the first date, then Jay couldn't wait for a lifetime full of them.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Okay but what if John x Y/N x Helen?

It's not a request, by the way. I just wanted to know your thoughts ❤️

My thoughts? I'm here for it @hollywoodshell . 😂

But that's such an interesting idea! And maybe tricky too! It's really hard to imagine someone catching John's eye while he's married to Helen though. You'd almost have to have a relationship with Helen BEFORE John, lol. Like...

-What iffff you shared an apartment with Helen? We know she was a photographer. Maybe you're an artist too. You're really good friends, you always just *clicked*. Sometimes you're more than friends too...🤭

-You're probably attracted to Helen for the same reasons John is. She's so kind and creative and such a light in the dark. You're poor AF but you still bring her daisies from the street stalls when you find them, just to see her smile.

-You meet John...when someone tries to steal Helen's camera and he stops them? Or Helen really wanted shots of this cool rundown building on the waterfront to complete a series, and you refuse to let her go alone, and it just happens to be a stash house for Viggo's enterprises, and John saves you from something bad happening?

-He'd be equal parts exasperated and amused. Who are these idiots? How do they not know where they are? Helen invites him over, because she's nice like that. And he's so enchanted he accepts, obviously, out of politeness and he feels like he’s been hit by a truck by the sparkle in her eye. You on the other hand are equal parts insanely attracted to this man and thinking you both might be about to get murdered. 😆

-You make dinner or order takeout. Your apartment is a bohemian mess/nest of your mutual artwork and plants and bric-a-brac you thrifted. You eat and talk and pour drinks, and John is kind of overwhelmed by the warmth in your little space. He is not used to people like Helen and you. You are not of his world. You see that this big man with the fathomless black eyes seems scary but he’s actually pretty sweet deep down, if not quiet. 

-Does Helen make the first move on John? I kind of feel like she does. She is cosmically attracted to this man. You see it happening right before you. You’re a little jealous–of John, not Helen–but maybe also resigned. It’s not like you’re going to stand in the way, if this is what she wants. You love her too much for that petty shit. 

-She knocks your socks off when she includes you, kissing you and John in turn. You exchange a look over her with this man. Maybe a moment of silent understanding. It feels like he is very careful with both of you, like his large hands are capable of terrible things if he does not watch himself closely. 

-Maybe this isn’t the first threesome you’ve had with Helen, but as you fall asleep cuddled together with John you feel like something momentous has happened. The earth has shifted, just a little. Nothing will be the same. You’re not sure if you like it. 

-You’re both surprised when John makes breakfast for the two of you. You wake up (waaay too early) to wonderful smells coming from the kitchen. You wonder if you’ll ever see him again, when he parts with a sweet kiss for both of you, and that sad look in his beautiful dark eyes. 

-Yet, when he shows up at your door with flowers for both of you a week later, that uncertain tightness in your chest relaxes a little. Maybe this thing could be something good for all of you? Maybe it’s worth a shot…

[beetlejuicyy]

ERASER | Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

5. All Is Well

Summary: Neither of you might be ready for a face to face talk, but you meet Sukuna in the most unexpected place

Wordcount: 3k

Masterlist | AO3

Notes: no one might be interested in this since it has been one year since the last update but here i am

"Yeah then he called me at 4am to tell me how much he missed me."

"Was he drunk?"

"As fuck. I could barely understand whatever he was saying."

"That's pathetic."

"I know, right? Why can't he tell me he misses me when he's sober?"

Although you didn't mean to eavesdrop, the conversation between the girls at the table behind you was too familiar to ignore.

"He's a coward, that's why. He needs alcohol to show his feelings."

"I hate this type of guys."

And you did too, you completely agreed with the two girls from the other division whom you didn't even get the chance to formally meet yet. You were one week into your new job and eating lunch by yourself was becoming a habit because most of your colleagues were working from home or were on business meetings with clients. It was lonely but peaceful, so much so that you wished you were a little more sociable, friendlier. Maybe you could have joined the conversation and make some friends here.

But how could you tell these girls that a part of you also wished your boyfriend would call you at 4am, wasted, telling you how much he misses you?

*

Sukuna had a very specific taste in alcohol, born out of early stages of experimenting. He naturally had a high tolerance to it, using drinking both as a bonding activity and as a distraction for other people. It was easier to strike good deals when your partner was drunk while you were pretending to be barely light headed at most. On top of that, Sukuna enjoyed drinking as a hobby. While you would read or play on your phone he would have a glass of some strong liquor that he would savour slowly, taking his time. He had an extensive collection at home and, while you usually preferred something on the softer and sweeter side, you couldn't deny that he looked enticing playing with his half empty glass while being lost in thought.

You've never seen your boyfriend drunk, though. A bit tipsy, yes, maybe light headed, sometimes aroused because of a few more glasses, but never drunk enough to lose control of his judgement or actions. You found that very reliable, knowing that you never had to worry about him doing reckless things. Knowing that he had a very high tolerance and he never crossed the line.

But now you wished he would. You wished he would drown himself in alcohol because he missed you, get drunk just to forget the pain of your absence, be reckless for once and call you at 4am to tell you how drunk he is and how much he loves you. Instead, Sukuna did what he knew best. Stalk you. Maybe it wasn't the most suitable word for it, but it felt very much like stalking. The very next day after the party, he had your favourite takeout delivered at your door for lunch along with a bouquet of flowers and a box of expensive chocolate. He was the first to know you got a new job, delivering another beautiful bouquet of flowers with a short but sweet congratulatory message and a golden bracelet he knew you've had your eyes on for a while. Once, when you got carried away shopping and lost the last train home, one of his chauffeurs was conveniently only a block away. As soon as you started sneezing and losing your voice, medicine was at your door as well as a confirmation for a doctor's appointment in your inbox. You cancelled that one the next day, though.

Everything you were doing, Sukuna was aware of it and it was somehow sweet. You were always touched when a new gift was on the way, secretly excited that he insisted on being in your life even if he didn't find the words yet. A couple of times you almost grabbed your phone to text him before you remembered your last conversation, feeling anger build up inside you once more. Instead, you posted the gifts on your stories in a more or less obvious way, cursing at yourself for setting up the close friends function to include him only. It was almost like a contest between the two of you and the one who spoke first would lose. The prize for the winner? You weren't sure there was one.

Keeping up with your life was easy for Sukuna. In any case, he found it easier than saying words like 'sorry' or 'I love you' while looking you in the eyes. He'd check your location on his phone whenever he missed you and, in a twisted and unhealthy way, it made it easier to cope with your absence. He didn't understand what you wanted from him so he gave you the things that he had lacked in his early years: someone to look after you and a no-limit credit card. Now that he started wearing formal attire more often, although he hated the way the blazer of a suit restricted his movements and the tie made him feel like he was a dog on a leash, and he bought an office building where he had his own spacious room to work in peace, these little games he played with you started feeling childish. It wasn't as if the illusion of a mature, reliable man had gotten to his head. He would never be anything else than the gang leader he had always been, just like the tattoos on his face would never fade on their own. He didn't fit in this world of generational wealth or new money. Not that these people had in any shape or form better morals. Nine out of ten times, cleanly shaved men stuffed in a designer suit were spineless and more ruthless. For example, this white haired rich kid who brazenly invited Sukuna to the most expensive restaurant in the city to congratulate him on his new business venture.

Gojo Satoru was probably the most infuriatingly likeable and for sure the richest person Sukuna knew. He was the heir to the Gojo empire, a conglomerate of bigger and smaller companies that swallowed each other, the one family who held half of the country's economy in their pockets.

"This new look fits you well, better than it fits me almost." Satoru pursed his lips, his fingers fidgeting with the expensive sunglasses as if they were a cheap toy.

"Cut the small talk."

"It's not small talk, I mean it."

Sukuna had stumbled upon Satoru several years ago, when he was only a rich kid in highschool looking for ways to losen the tight grip of his family's reputation on his life. Back then, Sukuna only had a few trusted men that smuggled drugs and occasionally lent loans, and he worked with them shoulder to shoulder everyday to make sure little Yuji had everything he needed.

"I think it's the tattoos on your face." Satoru's bright blue eyes narrowed, focused to figure out what exactly made the man in front of him look both out of place and perfectly suited to be sitting across him at the same time. "Do you regret any of the tattoos you have now?"

Sukuna sighed, but not because he found the other annoying. The fact that he ever considered removing that one tattoo followed him constantly. How could he? Your face would pop up in his mind as soon as he would remember, and the guilt of wanting to erase you from his life lingered in his whole body, like his heart was pumping pure pain instead of blood in his veins.

"Not exactly."

It wasn't a lie. If anything, Sukuna enjoyed the recurring stares and the restraint people had to go through so they wouldn't be perceived as rude by him. He had the police in his pocket and the press wrapped around his finger. Investigating his background and business was off limits and any accusation against him was met with a blind eye. Besides, the fact that he had face tattoos wasn't a crime in itself. Therefore, no matter how startled some people were by Sukuna's appearance, it didn't matter. What mattered most was that any room went silent when he walked in, all eyes fell to the floor and everyone tried to get under his skin.

"Here's the thing, Sukuna." Satoru's tone suddenly changed after the waiter left with the order. He leaned forward over the table, his forearms taking a considerable amount of space. "You'll find me anywhere you venture. Real estate? I own a company for that. Assurance? I own a company for that. Advertisement? I own a company for that."

Sukuna remained relaxed in his seat, looking directly into Satoru's sharp eyes. His jaw wasn't clenched, his shoulders weren't tense. It seemed to piss the other man off to some extent. "I don't know why you chose to play this card but if you plan to be a competitor in my market you'll sink lower than the bottom you crawled up from."

Just as the threatening words were spilling across the table, Sukuna's phone vibrated with two consecutive messages. If he didn't seem touched by Satoru's attitude, now that his eyes immediately fell over the notifications to read the messages it was clear.

miss hasn't left the office

it is 35 minutes later than her usual

should i go in and check?

Satoru's mocking attitude gradually vanished as Sukuna nonchalantly picked up his phone and replied to the messages. It was replaced by a colder, more calculated gaze. He didn't underestimate the other man in the slightest. However, the familiarity between them and the comfort of finally meeting on his own territory had Satoru feeling more prideful than he should have, perhaps. There was something changed about Sukuna. And no, it wasn't the fact that his shoulders were broader and his arms larger than five years ago when they last saw each other. As he allowed the text conversation to continue, Satoru's mind wandered back to the old days when he would do anything to piss his parents off. Clubs, women, alcohol, drugs. He had a terrible entourage and, funily enough, he used to be the worst out of his friends. Sukuna milked him dry of money.

"What were you saying?" Satoru's eyebrows raised in surprise. It seemed he had been too lost in thought about different times and days long gone.

"I can be your investor." The silence in the VIP room of the restaurant was thick and heavy, the generic house song playing in the background almost comical. Sukuna looked at the other man in disbelief, not sure if this was another one of his stupid jokes or not.

"I don't need any." However, his tone was betraying confusion. Underneath the clean undercut of his snowy hair and the business attire, Satoru was the same mischievous kid that wouldn't shut his mouth even if someone had a gun to his head.

"Yeah, that's what the press thinks too. Kinda fishy."

"You scheduled all of this to threaten me?"

miss is out

she seems angry

Sukuna's phone buzzed again on the table. However, his eyes didn't fall on the screen like the previous time. Satoru, on the other hand, tilted his head a little too much, trying to read the inverted words before a large hand covered it completely. Still, he had managed to grasp a few of the words.

"Look, I respect you more than the old farts I work with."

she left in a car with two other women

The phone buzzed under his hand again and Sukuna unconsciously pressed his palm against the screen as if trying to silence it. The vibrations only reverberated louder into the table.

"You can pick it up, you know."

"Go on."

Satoru sighed, pulling softly at the knot of his tie. He loosened it as the waiter placed the drinks on the table, pouring in the glasses.

"A publicity stunt, that's what I'm suggesting." He spoke after the waiter left. The tip of his finger tapped the glass as if trying to check its temperature. For some reason the drinks were always served too cold for his liking. "I'm not giving you any money. I won't own any share of your business. But we'll tell the public I do."

As opposed to Satoru's reluctance to drink yet, Sukuna took a sip of his own, the bitter taste refreshing his senses and toning down some of the tension in his body.

"What do you get in return?" He asked, placing his glass back on the table although he felt the urge to drink it all in one shot and pour himself another round.

"For starters, I piss off some people by associating with you, even formally." With a shrug of his shoulders Satoru finally grabbed his glass only to shake it lightly, watching as the waves of alcohol washed the crystal walls.

currently at a restaurant

i'll share the location

Sukuna's phone vibrated once again, although it didn't bother him anymore. He had taken his hand off the screen already, his attention focused on the peculiar business offer in front of him.

"And do some money laundering on the side?" He guessed, earning a light chuckle from the younger man across him. Even the two buttons of his black shirt that were left undone felt too tight for his liking. It was indeed a good exchange however, for some reason, Sukuna couldn't help but think Satoru had motives he wouldn't disclose.

"If you insist." He grinned. His mouth continued to move but the words failed to reach Sukuna's ears because the waiter passed by their table with a group of three women, guiding them to their seats. It wasn't the sound of a single pair of high heels clicking on the floor that got his attention. Not even the voice of a woman calling Satoru's name in a surprised voice.

It was your perfume. Long before you even reached the table. It was that combination of the sweet, floral notes mixed with the natural scent of your body and the faintly lingering frangrance of shampoo intertwined in the most familiar and comforting smell Sukuna ever knew.

His eyes looked past the woman that stopped by their table, shooting straight to the other end of the restaurant, where you were seated. He could almost sense the sweet trail you left behind, guiding him to you even if his eyes wouldn't be able to see you. His gaze burned holes into you, like the way a cigarette does to a fabric when he puts is out. Even when Satoru introduced him to the woman he wouldn't remember the name of, Sukuna barely offered her an acknowledging look before the sound of your name out of her mouth captured his attention.

"She's going to replace miss Tanaka. I believe miss Ieiri was already informed that miss Tanaka will soon be off on parental leave."

"I should spare her the stress of meeting so early on, then." Satoru joked and the woman laughed a little too hard to be genuine.

"Don't worry Mister Gojo, I'll make sure our business relationship won't be affected by this shift."

You were looking the other way on purpose. Sukuna knew for a fact that you were not this oblivious and surely not blind. The restaurant was almost empty, the double doors of the VIP room open wide. You passed by them on your way, you saw him first for sure, you knew he was looking at you right now. Yet, you persistently talked to the other woman at your table not sparing a look anywhere else. You weren't this talkative. You've been to this restaurant before with him, yet you kept pretending to look at the menu as if you hadn't studied it throughly with him before, as if you didn't know what to order, as if you didn't know where the restroom was.

Sukuna noticed all of these things in a matter of moments, not long enough for the man on the other side of his table to pick up on it.

"Miss Takada really is a catch. I had a crush on her when I was 15." Satoru said, thinking that Sukuna was looking at the woman who had just left their table. "She had only been promoted to be the director of her division back then, working with my father. Now she's a CEO."

All of this information slipped through Sukuna's ears smoothly, passing through one and leaving through the other.

"Although she doesn't really seem like your type."

With a deep breath of air Sukuna collected all of the feelings scattered all over his heart and locked them tightly in a corner for later. The sharp, red eyes that barely contained the astonishment of seeing you walk in turned to Satoru as calm as ever.

"Remind me, what do I get from this deal with Gojo Enterprise?"

"All of the possible suspicions about your funds and past are erased with my support." Satoru answered frankly, finally taking a sip from his drink. Even if the staff at the restaurant knew not to put actual alcohol in his drink while making it look like it's one of their top tier liquors, he was always pleasantly surprised to meet the sweet taste of a virgin blend.

"Have your men write a press statement. I'll have my men get in touch to agree on the final form." The rest of the whiskey left in the glass was just enough to wash down the knot in Sukuna's throat. He put down the glass a little too firmly, too loudly, the sound echoing in the almost empty restaurant, surely reaching your ears. It even took Satoru by surprise as his eyes snapped quickly, almost like checking if the table was still intact.

"It's not my men anymore. It's my team. Or my secretary." The condescending tone didn't bother Sukuna in the slightest. He had other things to worry about.

tags: @sukunasleftkneecap @nicxl333 @st4r-s4r4 @vinnieswife @rosaryia @iluvoaldmen @sterzin @siriuslyblackonback @00frenchfries00 @selina18

[drowninginblox]

Back Online

Pt: 1, 2, 3

You decided to take some time for yourself.

Charles could read you like an open book, and you loved and hated him for that. When he said you had paid time off, you took it—along with Scott's motorcycle.

You didn't know where you would go but you ended up in Niagrea for a few days, just watching the falls and the people. You also spent some time off Tumblr. The last thing you needed was to be reminded of that damn post again. But the thing was, you found yourself stalking Kurt's known social media in the meantime. It got to the point where you lost sleep over year-old photos of this guy's stupid face. So on the third day, you turned off your phone altogether.

You knew it wasn't smart but you also knew that no one would call you in an emergency. You weren't an X-Men, you knew that too well. So the whole week was yours.

You ate poutine, went to a spa, ordered takeout, watched trash TV, and enjoyed the American/ Canadian border. It wasn't everything you hoped for, but it was better than lingering on everything you left. No- that was for the drive back.

When you got on Scott’s motorcycle and started back on the scenic route, you got to thinking. One step at a time. From how this whole feeling towards Kurt started, to the pinning, to the post, and now… how in every instance you could have just told him at any time. But you didn’t. And now he knows about your crippling feelings through a tumblr post of all things.

The amount of times you swore at yourself outnumbered your fingers and toes. But you continued back to the school. The good part of you wanted to say it was for the students. The bad part of you wanted to say it was because you didn’t have a passport. But the realest answer was that you couldn’t run away. You know too many people who have ran away from their problems- all of the XMen have. But what seperated you from them is that even when shit got tough, and the circumstances where stupid, you always walked towards the problem. Regardless of if it was your own or someone else’s, you always took it head on. Because even the runners get exhausted, and the hiders get paranoid. You’d rather just get it done and over with.

So when you pulled up to the school to see Kurt standing out front waiting for you, you only took a breath and walked up to him. “You’re back.” He said in disbelief. You manage to shrug “I had to.” Kurt kept his eyes on you, taking you in for everything you are. “Y/n, I want to talk to you about that-“ you chuckle, albeit awkwardly “my post? Yeah… I had a feeling.”

He can’t help but avert his gaze and hold the back of his neck while you shove your hands into your coat pockets “Liebling I-“ “Kurt,-“ you manage to say simultaneously. When the two of you realize your shared mistake, you laugh. And for a moment, it doesn’t feel like what happened happened. But when the laughter settled, and the reality edged back, you say it first “You go ahead. Please.” Kurt smiles in thanks. “Y/n, I-" He pauses momentarily to calm himself, and hopefully consider his words. "I’ve thought a lot about what happened, alongside how I reacted. And there’s something that I need to be honest with you about. I just," He stops and sighs. "I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed and I just didn’t know it was you who made the post." The hand that rested behind his neck moved to his elbow, fiddling with the fabric of the loose sweatshirt he was wearing.

"I’m hoping that we can talk about it somewhere more private, that’s all to say if that’s alright with you.” You take that in and nod “But before we do, let me say what I wanted to. Please.” You countered. Kurt nodded. "Of course,"

You take a breath of your own and try to remember all the things you want to say. “Kurt, I am very sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m not that brave when it comes to telling others my... romantic feelings because, more often than not, they’re one-sided on my end. So I just- keep to myself and hope it goes away with time." You attempt to chuckle away nerves. "Obviously, that didn’t happen… and I didn’t have anyone I felt comfortable telling. I was scared it would get back to you one way or another." You huff a dry laugh. "Ironic I know," Kurt looks at you with a soft expression but you didn't quite know what was backing it. "So I thought if I shouted into the ether- nothing would happen. Even though I knew you have a Tumblr... I thought I should risk it anyway since I just needed to get it out. So I did,... and now you know.” She hesitates but decides not to take his hand

“Kurt, regardless of what happens or how you feel, know that I still want to be your friend. I understand completely if you don’t- that you need time or that you don’t want me to talk to you at all. But I hope you know that I truly care about you, Kurt," You move only to end up holding yourself. "Whether that be romantically or platonically- I care about you. So… if you want me to buzz off for leave you alone that is completely fine. I just want you to be comfortable.” You swallow down an acidic taste that you hope is pure anxiety. Kurt looks you over for a few moments. You try to meet his eyes. Time passes in this wordless exchange until Kurt offers his hand. "I think we should continue this somewhere else." He decides. You swallow again and attempt a smile with all the hope you have in this relationship- whatever it may be. "Okay." You clasp his hand, and just seconds before you two teleport, he smiles and pulls you into a hug. You manage to close your eyes as the cloud of dark smoke overtakes you.

The lingering scent of vanilla hung in the air, signaling to you that it was okay to open your eyes. You've only been inside of Kurt's room once, maybe twice, and even then it was only for fleeting moments like telling him food is ready. So you took your time taking in all the tapestries, framed photos, overflowing bookshelves, and still burning candles. "Did you leave these burning while we were talking?" You mumbled while looking around. Kurt laughed awkwardly. "Ja… dumm." He chuckles. "The Professor told me you were approaching the campus and I just had to talk with you." You look up to him. "Well, now you can talk to me." Kurt looks down at you. The urge to pull you closer or squeeze you while he has the chance is almost overwhelming. But he overcomes it.

Instead, he lets go and puts a step between you. Both are a means to not scare you and to distance themselves. “So, I know you like me, and... I don't want to lead you astray Y/n. So I’m going to be honest with you. Up until a week ago, I never considered our relationship in that way." You look away. The tightness in your throat is starting to become unbearable. "Hey, hey, hör zu, sieh mich an, meine Schöne. Denken Sie bitte nicht das Schlimmste. Look at me Y/n." He chides, taking a step forward and holding your chin. "Please, look at me. I'm not done. Hear me out okay, liebling?" You can't help but flush when you hear him say that. God damn fanfictions haunting you. "Okay," You relent. he smiles a little and moves your face so the two of you are eye to eye. "When I realized it was you, I wanted nothing else in the world but to go back in time and slap myself. I though that I lost one of the best people in my life." He brushes a thumb over your chin. "And when you left, I was lost. I didn't deserve to know whether or not you were coming back. But when the reality set in that maybe you weren't I-" he sighs and looks away for a moment before returning to your eyes. "I realized I couldn't live without you." You felt yourself get a little lighter at his admission. "Me too." You mumbled.

Kurt swallowed. His pride or nerves, he doesn't know. "Y/n, I don't know to what extent I want our relationship to be. But I know I don't want to live a life without you by my side." He lowers his hand from your chin to your own hand and interlocks your fingers. "I don't know if this will be what you want of me-"

You shake your head and holds his cheek, making Kurt tense. You hesitate but resign yourself to not pulling away. "Kurt, all I want is your happiness. I can get over my feelings. I can move on. The last thing I want is you attempting to force feelings that aren't there." His eyes get a little wide. "Y/n-" "Kurt, you are one of the kindest, most selfless people I know. You are admirable and open, loving, and- to me- you're divine." You brush a thumb over a hot cheek as his face slowly turns violet. "Kurt, you deserve only the best that the world has to offer. Do not put your happiness aside for me. Please," You assure. "Be happy in any way you want, just don't hurt yourself in the process."

Kurt blinks a few times as he processes your words. You keep your eyes on him to gauge his reaction, but other than blinking through too many emotions to properly identify and parting his lips every few seconds, there's nothing much you can do other than question if holding his face is the right thing to do right now. Eventually, he finds himself, closing his mouth and focusing back on the current moment. "Y/n," He starts but cuts himself off. He moves his hands to hold your wrists, moving your hands away from his face. All you can do is swallow and listen to whatever he needs to say. "Y/n, I am a man of many things. You know that." He smiles a little and looks down at your hands. "I'm a man of faith in things most people don't belive in, I am both fierce and cowardly in all senses of the word, and I envy the dramatics of life." He moves his hands to yours from your wrists. His hands turn your palms upwards so the closest finger that could ever be considered as his thumbs can press into your palms.

He takes them in, soft but worn- not in the same ways his are though. You find yourself looking at your own hands as well. "When I was in the circus, a woman taught me how to read palms... she couldn't read mine that well." He chuckled softly, making you giggle in return. "But, I learned how to read others." He drops your nondominant hand and looks closely at the other. "Kurt, what does this-" "Shhhh-" He hushes, looking intently at your palm. "I know I have a flair for the dramatics, but let me do this Y/n," He says before looking up to you. Realizing the proximity and the intimacy of this situation, your face heats up. But you nod for him to keep going regardless.

He smiles and returns to his work. "Now, as much as I love the novelty of this, take it all with a grain of salt....Ah! There," he points to a line closest to your fingers but top most of your palm. "This is your heart line." He explains "Or your love line..." He smiles softly as he trails the line with a finger. The ghost of the touch makes a shiver run up your back. He chuckles. "You see how long it is?" You nod. "That means that you are most likely a good lover... romantic, considerate, caring." You look back at him. "But, I don't need your palm to tell me that." He clasps his other hand around yours, encasing it with his touch. "Y/n, when you left- I didn't know what to do with myself." You look at him slightly concerned. "I was forgetting things more often than I usually do. When meetings were, when to eat, when to sleep..." A dry chuckle escaped him. "I was so worried about you that I neglected myself." You put your spare hand on top of Kurts. "Kurtis..."

He chuckles a little "You're the only person I let call me that... other than Marie." He looks into your eyes. "I was so worried that I lost you over something that I was putting up a front for..." You cocked your head a little. "What do you mean?" Kurt removes his hands from yours and takes out his phone. He finds the screenshot that started all of this. "Y/n, I have reread this post well over a dozen times before I belittled it before you. Not because I thought it was weird or something... it was so flattering. To have someone want to hold, kiss, and love me so unabashedly. Of course, I didn't know it was you... not that that is any excuse. But... You understand why I tried to play it off as a joke right?" You nod in understanding. He could not have known it was you, you made sure of it. "I guess my reaction was enough of a tell..." He smiles at you in understanding, although it comes off as bittersweet considering the situation. He puts his phone away. "Y/n, I don't see you any differently. I hope you know that, but I also want you to understand that my feelings for you have changed and I need to sort them out." You can't help but look away from him. " I won't ask what kind as to not get my hopes up, but can I at least know wether or not you're pitying me." Kurt furrows his brows and holds your cheek. "No! No, Y/n, I do not pity you or look down on you for this. Ehrlich. I just wish you trusted someone on the team to tell rather than do this." Your throat tightened. "If I did, I knew it would get back to you. One way or another." He sighs. "And this was better?"

The only sound comes from the to-and-fro flick of Kurt's tail.

He just brushes a thumb over your cheek, watching as your inner turmoil reflects through your eyes. "Just give me some time to figure this out, okay?" You glance back at him. His golden eyes soften at the understanding between the two of you. Even though you hate how everything has turned out, it's gotten you here regardless. You sigh and turn to fully look him in the eyes. "Take as much time as you need." You assure. He smiles at you, this time it's far more genuine. "Thank you." He mumbles. You nod and back away from him. All he can do is watch as you make your way to the door. You open it and turn back to him "We're still friends?" You mumble. He smiles. "Always." You return the smile and nod before leaving the room.

Finally, he can plan.

[starsfic]

The Week After, Chapter 2: Day 1

Summary: Short one, because it was mostly sleeping.

They woke up on a couch.

It was an old couch in what looked to be the remains of a small break room. The lights were turned off, leaving only some light to peer through the cracks of the open door, so few details could be seen, like the dust that clung here and there and the plastic chairs surrounding about two tables. What they could see was the age of the room, left to rot unlike the pristine parkour palace.

…Well, almost pristine.

They pulled out their phone and winced at the lack of response. Hopefully, they got their purse back, it had their phone charger in it. There was a clock on the wall, but as they squinted, they realized they couldn’t see.

Oh. Wait. They weren’t wearing their glasses.

Morgan had to wonder how long they had been asleep to not notice that fact first. They stood up and reached around. After a bit of fumbling in the dark, they found their glasses. The sport strap was still on. They pulled it on and realized about four things.

The clock was a Frankie clock, the position of his arms suggesting it was eight in the evening. Someone had taken off the Frankie onesie, leaving them in the gym shorts and tank they had come in, the floor freezing through their socked feet, with the shoes next to the couch. There was a McDonald’s bag sitting next to where their glasses had been, faint warmth still coming off. The third thing was that Frankie was standing in the corner of the room next to the door, staring at them.

They stared at each other. It was just like when they stumbled across him the first time. He had been staring at the cameras and then slowly turned towards them. Morgan had been too baffled and just a touch scared to think of running as he straightened up and then suddenly burst to life-

“Oh good!” he said, clapping his hands. “You’re not dead!”

Morgan stared. “Were- were you worried I was?” they asked.

“Well, to be fair, you did pass out on me very suddenly,” he said, reaching over and turning on the light. They felt a hiss come out at the sudden invasion of light, blinking colors out of their vision. “That was very rude of you, dear.”

“Sorry,” they said, unsure of what else to say. When their parents or siblings had said something similar, they had always felt a rush of anger that meant that their house was filled with yelling. Instead, shame rushed up, foreign in their body. “I think it was because I was suddenly out of a life-threatening situation.” To be fair, Morgan had been running around for hours, avoiding danger like Death had an arrest warrant for them. It had been exciting, but also exhausting. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Hm,” Frankie said.

Morgan decided to move to the next topic. “Did you buy me McDonald’s?”

“No, the staff who came by did,” Frankie sounded very pleased by this. “The movers wanted to give you a reward for surviving. They left your stuff by the entrance, by the way.” There was a pause. “I didn’t know you were a fan.”

“Stop it,” Morgan said, reaching into the bag. And, wow, they had gotten them a bunch of stuff. Their mouth began to water at the smell of hotcakes. They couldn’t remember the last time they splurged and bought any kind of takeout. The past few months had been full of the cursed cereal that had the texture of packing peanuts and, after a few months of eating it straight, tasted like medicinal grape.

Frankie paused as they didn’t even bother with a knife and fork, yanking shreds of the pancakes off and shoving it in. “No,” he finally said, maniac glee lining his voice. “You did me a favor by living. So you have to deal with me.”

“What do you mean?” Morgan asked around a mouthful of fries. They needed to slow down, but they were so fucking hungry.

“They were going to get rid of me,” Frankie explained and Morgan had to stop at that. “After this season, they were going to scrap me and recast the position because with the show only lasting a few minutes.” The mania suggested this was an unusual amount of trauma dumping, so they just shut their mouth. “But now I’m getting upgrades that that brat got years ago!” He laughed, gripping his fists together.

…well then.

“I’m glad for you?”

“You should be!” Frankie said, turning and opening the door. “I’m glad you’re not dead. If you need to replace your bandages, there should be a first aid kit in the cabinet. Bye!” And with that, he slammed the door behind him. There was a pause and then he opened the door. “By the way, you do have some tax paperwork to fill. Apparently, it’s very illegal to not pay you for all you’ve done.”

“Isn’t it also illegal to host death games in the first place?”

Frankie chuckled. “Yes! But the IRS doesn’t ask questions about murder.” And with that, he slammed the door shut.

Morgan blinked and then sighed.

They could worry about that later.

[gingervitus]

Davrin Week Day Two: Eyes of an Eagle/Roar of a Lion/Heart of a Halla

I LOVE DAVRIN WEEK @datvcompanionweeks. Here I am very late in my day writing this stuff as I go along.

So I thought about Davrin being a volunteer firefighter, and now here I am at 10:32 PM having written about it.

More modern AU for your Davrin viewing pleasure.

No Heroics (1,776 words)

There are three things, of which Davrin is certain: it’s goddamn late, he smells like shit, and he can’t wait to get into bed.

It had been a normal night spent in front of the TV. Chinese takeout. Not nearly as many dumplings as he would have liked, and someone definitely ate his eggroll. There certainly isn’t a full interrogation that ensued after he discovered the empty wax paper bag. Faulty circumstantial–at best–evidence isn’t presented while another dumpling disappears. Definitely none of that happens. He also most definitely doesn’t end up doubled over laughing with duck sauce smeared across his nose. For that reason, no one will catch him complaining. Even with a pair of slippers propped into his lap that belong to the alleged eggroll thief. “It’s insulting that you would even accuse me.” He let it slide this time. Probably the next time, too. 

Taash has started calling him a sucker everytime they are together, and maybe they’re right. He’s got it bad.

The night was so comfortable and domestic and nice that when the notification of a structure fire across town he almost pops up across the feed he’s idly browsing he almost ignores it. Another time, he thinks as his thumb absentmindedly presses into the tight calf muscle propped up into his lap. An update comes, though. Entrapments. Children. Fire doesn’t care how good someone’s night is going. In fact, it usually waits to rear its ugly head in the worst moments.

Duty calls, as it usually does. He pats the legs of his favorite scheister and trudges around the small living space. A lightly packed backpack equipped with a radio hangs from one of the metal hooks by the front door, joined by several jackets both old and new. The night is cool but not cold enough to warrant one of the coats, so he settles on an old sweatshirt. His head is just about through the top when he bumps into the back of the couch. The dip down is intended to be brief, but fingers curl around both drawstrings of his hood to pull him down further. “Don’t go saving too many babies or old people. You’ll make the rest of us look bad.” He laughs something in response. Truthfully, he can’t be bothered to remember, too distracted by the lips that brush up against his as the words are spoken. “Come back in one piece please. No heroics out there, mister.”

Simple instructions, which he’s technically followed… mostly.

The ER nurse–Lina, as her badge labels her–is giving him instructions, too, but his mind is fried. Adrenaline has long since worn off. The taped up ribs under his shirt ache with each breath he takes. He glances at Lina, watching carefully for each time her brows raise and she looks up from the laptop in her hands. That’s the signal for him to nod. To acknowledge that he understands what she’s telling him. He nods each time even if the pounding in his head gets worse when he does so. All he wants to do is go home, and this seems to be the quickest way to get there.

It should have been a normal call. Just like any other.

Cut and dry. 

Grab grandma and any kids and get the hell out of there.

But it was an old duplex with too many people living inside. Too shoddy of wiring for a building over a century old. Too much needs to be powered by electricity than such an old structure would allow for without major electrical overhaul and a ton of money shelled out. It’s a mess.

By the time they arrive, the whole place is up in flames like the place was built from cards. Ambulances are lined down the street. Larger fire departments are in the process of being contacted, but there’s no time. No time for waiting. No time for thinking. No time for worrying. No heroics out there. 

There’s only time to act. 

Flames lick all around every single volunteer that enters the building. The walls that are still made of plaster glow with the flames raging within them. Newer ceilings and walls are crumbling. Embers spit in every direction. The whole house feels as if a creature from the depths of the earth is reaching up to claw it down to the molten core. It’s crumbling. There isn’t enough time.

Each room proves to be empty as they open. Clear. Clear. A bedroom, smack in the center of the ground floor has a door cracked open. Fire burns inside. A chemical smell fills the air. Old wallpaper. Maybe lead paint given the age of the house. He can’t be sure. He doesn’t even really care. Beneath a window in the corner of the room, a small frame sits curled up, wheezing through the smoke. There’s no time to waste. “Come on.” The child is screaming as best they can through burning lungs. “Let’s get you out of here.” They’re light. Easy to carry through the crumbling building to safety, but they yell. They scream. They pound against his chest with little fists, and at first, he doesn’t even care to make out what they’re saying. It doesn’t matter in the long run. At least, it doesn’t until the word finally catches his ear. 

“Kitty!”

A fucking cat.

Lina leads him out of the room he’s been trapped in for the better part of the last couple of hours. She’s still talking but he can’t hear her. His ears are still ringing, but he manages to nod at times he’s fairly sure are appropriate. The whole place smells like soot, wallpaper paste, and antiseptic, although that could just be him. He isn’t sure where everyone else from the fire ended up. He doesn’t even know if they managed to put it out. Asking the nurse about it requires a deep enough breath that his entire side sears with pain, so he takes that as a sign to worry about it later.

The waiting room is fairly empty. A few stragglers sit in seats, doubled over in pain. Pale faced and staring out into space. Agitated and staring at watch faces that seem to move all too slowly. He can’t be bothered to give them much more than a passing observation. It has to be close to dawn at this point. He just wants to faceplant into his bed, which doesn’t feel like a tall ask after the night he’s had. 

At reception, there appears to be a scuffle going on. A woman is yelling. Pleading, even. Begging to be let in. Demanding. “Please, you called me!” she shouts. Her voice breaks. “I don’t even know what’s going on. Please just–”

“Ma’am, I told you. I can’t let you–”

“Please!” He coughs. A mistake that he can’t help but make. He doesn’t know how he’s going to make it home in this state. His truck is back at the fire station. Fuck. How is he supposed to get home? “He’s my brother! He’s a doctor!”

“Silvia, you cannot just march into a hospital, say I’m your brother, and demand entry.”

Silvia.

Whatever Lina is telling him doesn’t even get picked up through facial expressions. He’s wandering–limping–toward reception. Pale hair is pulled back into a lopsided ponytail that bounces around frantically as incomprehensible words are spat out between the older woman who watches on, completely unamused, and the exhausted doctor with a headful of dark curls and a neatly trimmed goatee and mustache beside her. Hands wave around, manic, urgent. His fingers curl around the arm attached to them. The face that turns to face him looks as exhausted as the doctor and somehow manages to fall and lift upon seeing him. 

“Davrin,” Silvia breathes. “Holy shit.” Her fingers trace along the side of his face, just below the bandage on his forehead. The touch is featherlight. Barely even there at all. She sucks her cheeks in and bites down on the soft flesh inside. Her eyes blink rapidly up at him. A second hand rests on his other cheek. “What happened?”

He tries to grin at her, but everything is sore. Even his fucking face. God, he just wants to go to sleep. He sighs, head dropping to stare at the floor. Her hands remain holding his face. “Heroics,” he admits.

Kitty, as it turns out, is a kitten, probably too young to be separated from its mother, but is in the corner of the room the child had been in, hiding beneath a blazing bookshelf. It isn’t the logical thing to do, but he goes back into the building that’s being ripped apart by fire to retrieve said kitten. At first, he tries to coax it out to no avail. Instead, he drops down to his knees, throws a hand beneath the shelf, and pulls out the creature, who is screaming much like its companion.

He can see the open front door that they’ve been entering and departing through. He’s almost out. The last occupant of the building is going to make it, he thinks. A job well done at the end of the night. The fire department from the city will take care of smothering the flames, and he’ll go home and tell his little eggroll thief that heroics pay off sometimes. 

That’s all before a beam in the ceiling of the hallway collapses on him, and for whatever damn reason, he cuddles this fucking kitten against his chest to try to save it from the pressure.

“A kitten?” she spits out. “All this to save a fucking kitten?”

When it’s put like that, he realizes how ridiculous it sounds, but when he peels his arms away from his chest and hands the cat to the little boy who had been cowering in the corner of a burning room trying to say his friend, it seems worth it. The tears and the thanks. Knowing that someone got half a happy ending that night feels good. “Yeah,” he coughs out through a laugh. “All to save a fucking kitten.”

“Did it live?”

Silvia’s head whips around. The woman at the desk has returned to whatever tasks await her on her computer, but the doctor waits expectantly with his arms folded across his chest. “Viago, you can’t just–”

“Yeah, it lived,” Davrin assures him. This time the corners of his lips turn upwards despite the effort it takes. “And I’ve got the cracked ribs to show for it.”

She turns back to him, eyes running up and down his battered form. “Good,” she whispers. “I would have been pissed if it didn’t.”

“Jesus Christ, Silvie.”