#and i know he made mistakes and to me - in the end his made his decisions for his mental health and i hope he is doing good

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (13)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 

tags/warnings. depression, mentions of cheating, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships, illnesses

notes. 5k wc. please note that the last few sy chapters will be shorter than usual. but on another note, thank you for the kind comforting words on my last post. i’m very grateful for all of you.

series masterlist -> episode fourteen

“I’m pregnant,” you finally confessed, voice breaking as you watched the faint tears that slipped from Satoru’s eyes. “I don’t wanna have this baby.” 

He should’ve known why. He should’ve seen it coming—should’ve expected the next words that would come out of your mouth after announcing your pregnancy. 

Yet the admission, as firm as it sounded, still tore at your chest. And the silence that followed felt deafening. His gaze flickered to your stomach, then back to your face, searching for something—understanding, hope, or maybe a way to convince you otherwise. He also seemed to be struggling with the intense contradiction of his emotions, whether to celebrate your pregnancy or whether to be horrified by it. 

That was why Satoru took a shaky breath as he reached out a hand. “Y/N,” he began, stepping closer to you, “Don’t say that. We… We can figure this out. Together. Please.” 

Your whole body trembled at the irony of ending your own life soon as you announced the beginning of another. But at the moment, it felt right. That jumping into the vast space beyond you was the best choice—for him, for Sachiro, for the baby, and for yourself. 

But seeing the father of your children at the verge of breaking down was shaking your resolve. All the guilt, the shame. You felt it all at once. 

Satoru’s hands tightened around yours the moment he was able to reach you. And before you knew it, you were being pulled down, falling straight into him as he caught you perfectly in his arms. Like you were always meant to be there. “Y/N, please…” he whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks, ocean-blue eyes swimming with desperation. “I got you. Don’t do this. Don’t give up on this baby. Don’t give up on us.”

“I can’t, Satoru,” you choked out, shaking your head. “I can’t bring a child into this mess. What kind of life could I possibly give them? What kind of life could we give them? I don’t even deserve to live.”

“You don’t understand, Y/N. Having you here with me right now is already the greatest blessing in my life,” he said quickly, embracing you even tighter as if afraid you’d slip further away. “I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll be there every step of the way. I’ll… I’ll be a good father. I know I’ve made mistakes, Y/N. I’ve hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. But this—this is something I can do right. Let me prove it to you.”

You turned your face away, sobbing quietly. No, Satoru. It’s too late. You had heard of these same promises before, and only a fool would let herself believe it twice. 

“Look at me, Y/N,” he pleaded. “Please, just look at me. I love you. I love this baby. And I’m not going to let you go through this alone. I don’t care how hard it gets—I’ll be here. I’ll stay. I’ll be the man you need me to be. And the man that I should’ve always been.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, never once allowing you to breathe or call for his name. You were stuck underwater, fighting the strong current of emotions. Time and time again, and only Satoru Gojou was able to make you feel like this. 

“I swear on everything, Y/N,” he whispered, “I’ll be better. I’ll fight for you, Sachi, and this baby every single day. Just… don’t make this decision now. Not like this.”

The vulnerability in his eyes and the sheer rawness of his plea made your heart ache. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you saw the Satoru you had once loved—the man who would have moved mountains for the woman he had vowed to cherish. The man who pulled everything he can just to bring happiness to the woman he adored. 

Your chest tightened as the weight of your decision pressed down on you, and a shiver ran through your body as if you could feel your baby’s heartbeat. “Satoru…” you whispered, your voice trembling with the fragile thread of your emotions. “I’m…”

Before you could finish, the flood of guilt, sorrow, and exhaustion eventually overtook you. And his glistening blue eyes were the last thing you saw before the world blurred and you surrendered to the darkness.

— —

Satoru stood just outside the hospital room, leaning against the cold, white wall with his face buried in his hands. His heart was pounding and his thoughts were nothing but a chaotic mess. He had almost lost you—again. This time, in a way he hadn’t even anticipated.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and when he looked up, it was your older sister, Gen, who was walking toward him, her face a mix of concern and restrained anger. She stopped in front of him, crossing her arms and clearly displeased with his presence. 

“She’s resting,” Gen informed him, her voice steady but sharp. “The doctor says she needs time. Physically, she’ll be fine, but mentally? I don’t know.”

Satoru nodded, his throat tightening. “I—I’m sorry, Gen. For everything.” His voice cracked, and he looked away, unable to meet her piercing gaze. “I know I’ve been the worst. Back then, now… I never meant to hurt her.”

“I don’t even know what to say to you,” she replied in a haste and brutally honest manner. “First, my nephew, and now, my sister? Both of them were hospitalized because of you. All you do is bring in a series of bad luck to our family. Have some shame.” 

He knew she was right, and he was ashamed. But despite the hurtful truth, he accepted it all. He was a martyr ready to take all the pain away, if it meant taking it from you and your children. “I know I messed up, Gen. And I don’t deserve another chance. But that doesn’t change the fact that I love her. That I will love her until the day I die.” His eyes pooled with genuine tears. “I just want to be here for her. She’s my life.”

Gen sighed, her arms falling to her sides. “Satoru, you say you love her. You say you care about her. But look where we are. She’s always been the one paying the price for your mistakes. Always getting the short end of the stick.” Her voice hardened, and her eyes narrowed. “And now? There’s a rumor about her because of you. Do you even know what that’s doing to her?”

He clenched his fists, his head hanging low. “I know. I saw it. I—I’m already drafting a statement. It’ll be released soon. I’ll clear her name, Gen. I’ll take full responsibility. I won’t let anyone drag her through the mud because of me.”

Gen studied him carefully, her expression softening slightly, though her voice remained firm. “Words are one thing, Satoru. Actions are another. She’s given up so much for you. Do you even realize how much of herself she’s lost?”

“I do,” he said, his shaken voice barely audible. “I see it every time I look at her. I see the woman I fell in love with slipping away, and it’s my fault. But I swear to you, Gen, I’ll fix this. I’ll do everything I can to keep her, to keep our family together. I’ll be the man she deserves, the father our kids deserve.”

Gen’s lips pressed into a thin line as she looked away, her gaze distant. “Love isn’t just words, Satoru. It’s not just showing up when things get hard. It’s being there even when things are mundane, even when she doesn’t need saving. It’s about choosing her, every single day. And you haven’t done that.”

Her words cut deep, but he took them all, letting them sink into his bones. He had been selfish, careless with the one person who mattered the most. And now, he was paying the price.

“But you’re still here.” Gen’s voice eventually softened, as if this situation couldn’t be saved anymore. “And she’s still here. I don’t know why, after everything, my sister still loves you… but she does. I wouldn’t want you for her, frankly. I’d rather she’d be single her entire life than be stuck with you. But I know her stubborn heart all too well. And if you really mean what you say, if you’re truly ready to step up and be the man she deserves, then prove it. You’d better mean that, Satoru. Because if you break her again… I don’t think there’ll be any pieces left to put back together.”

For a moment, silence hung between them, broken only by the muffled hum of the hospital. And in sincerity, Satoru nodded, tears welling in his eyes. This wasn’t exactly Gen forgiving him, this was her choosing what makes her sister happy. “I love her, Gen. I’ve always loved her. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it.”

——

A dull beeping sound echoed in your ears, steady and rhythmic, as the world around you slowly came back into focus. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled your nose, and the soft hum of distant voices murmured through the hospital walls. The fluorescent lights above were too bright, causing you to squint as you tried to take in your surroundings. White sheets, an IV drip, and the unmistakable cold of a hospital bed beneath your fingertips.

You were in the ER.

Memories of the day before hit you all at once—the weight of exhaustion, the way your body had given up on you mid-conversation, and Satoru’s voice calling your name just before everything faded to black.

A gentle warmth enveloped your hand. You turned your head slightly, heart skipping a beat when you saw Satoru sitting beside you. His snow-white hair was disheveled, his usually confident demeanor subdued. There were dark circles under his eyes suggesting how little he had rested.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. There was relief laced in his tone, but also something heavier. He reached out, brushing stray strands of hair from your face. “How do you feel?”

“Fine.” You swallowed, your throat dry. “How’s my… baby?”

For someone who said she wanted to get rid of her unborn child, your concern put a relief on Satoru’s face. “Baby’s okay,” he admitted, his thumb absently tracing circles on your belly. “You passed out, and they brought you here to monitor you. But you’re okay now. The doctor said you were just exhausted. You’re being discharged soon.”

Your mind was sluggish, still struggling to process everything. But then, the most important thought struck you.

“Sachiro,” you breathed, fear clawing its way up your throat. One after another. “His surgery—”

Satoru squeezed your hand gently, stopping you before your panic could take hold. “It was a success.” His lips curled into a small, tired smile. “While you were resting, everything went well. The doctors said it was a textbook procedure—no complications. He’s stable, recovering in the suite room now.”

“H-He’s okay?” Your voice broke on the last word, and Satoru nodded.

“He’s okay.”

A choked sob left your lips as you covered your face with your hands, overwhelmed. After everything, after all the sleepless nights and the heart-wrenching fear of losing your first born, he had made it through. At his young age, having to suffer such a complicated heart disease was something he didn’t deserve, but truly, he was a strong kid. And for that, you were grateful. 

Satoru didn’t hesitate. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, grounding you, anchoring you. “Y/N,” he murmured, his lips ghosting against your temple. “Sachi’s strong. He got it from his mommy.”

You let yourself melt into him for a moment, closing your eyes and breathing him in. You didn’t know what this meant for the both of you—if anything had changed, if anything ever could. But for now, none of that mattered.

All that mattered was that Sachiro was waiting for you.

Satoru pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your arms. “Do you wanna go see him?”

You met his gaze, eyes still shining with unshed tears, and nodded. “Yeah.”

——

Down the pristine white halls, past nurses and doctors bustling about their duties, your feet carried you with a singular purpose while Satoru walked beside you, his pace matching yours.

And then—there.

Room 721.

You hesitated only for a second before pushing the door open, breath catching the moment your eyes landed on Sachiro. Your poor son. Your poor little boy lay in the hospital bed, looking small and fragile against the white sheets. Tubes and wires were attached to him, aside from the steady beeping of the monitors that signaled his heart’s vitals. A ventilator was also there to help him breathe, and his tiny chest rising and falling in a rhythm was a sight that both reassured and shattered you at the same time.

“Sachi,” you whispered sweetly, stepping closer. “Mommy’s here, baby.”

Your fingers trembled as you brushed his hair back, careful not to disturb any of the medical equipment. He was still asleep, sedated for recovery, but his face was peaceful—far more peaceful than the nights you’d spent watching him struggle.

Behind you, Satoru stood motionless. His normally vibrant eyes were dulled with exhaustion, his face gaunt from two days without sleep. Yet, despite it all, he remained standing, his entire being focused on Sachiro.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Your family surrounded you, offering support, love, and quiet reassurances. Nurses came and went, checking on Sachiro’s vitals, updating you on his condition. The visiting hours brought waves of people—friends, colleagues, even some of Satoru’s acquaintances who had come to check on him.

But through it all, Satoru never moved.

While conversations hummed around him, while people embraced and whispered their worries, he remained by Sachiro’s bedside. His hand rested on his son’s small fingers, his thumb occasionally brushing against his skin.

He didn’t speak much. Didn’t react to the noise around him.

He just… watched.

Watched the slow rise and fall of his child’s chest. Watched the way the monitors flickered with steady readings. Watched the way his son fought to live.

And even as the hours stretched, as your family said their goodbyes, as the night deepened and visiting hours ended—Satoru remained.

His exhaustion was evident. The bags under his eyes had darkened, his shoulders heavy with weariness. But when a nurse suggested he get some rest, he merely shook his head.

“I’m not leaving him.”

And so, he stayed.

With red-rimmed eyes and a body begging for sleep, Satoru Gojou sat beside his son, never once looking away.

You could see the torment in his eyes as he looked at Sachiro, the helplessness of a father who could do nothing but watch. You just couldn’t bear the silence any longer, so you finally spoke. “Satoru… just go home.”

He froze at the sound of your voice, as if caught off guard, but quickly shook his head and wrapped your belly under a warm blanket. “Did I wake you up?”

“I can look after Sachi by myself,” you urged, disregarding his question. “You need to rest.”

But again, he refused. “No.”

“But—”

You opened your mouth to speak again, to reason with him, but before you could, Satoru’s voice cut through the air, breaking in a way you had never heard before. “Y/N, let me be a father to my kids… Please.” His voice cracked, the raw emotion spilling out as he looked at the ceiling with somber, tearful eyes. It was the heartbreak in his voice that made you realize that you were the only family Satoru had left. And it was the tremor in his hands that made you see through the trauma he had developed after he was led to believe for three years that his son had never existed. In a way, you felt responsible for the pain you had caused him, too. “Just please let me love you and our babies. Don’t take them away from me.”

For a moment, silence became your friend. Yet, the quiet that enveloped the room was more of a tender moment suspended in time as you let Satoru embrace you in his arms. You both remained there, connected by the warmth of his hand over yours, and the gentle rise and fall of his breath. He caressed your belly as if you were going to take his baby away—that if he closed his eyes, even for a second, he would wake up to see his unborn child gone. 

But then, a soft knock on the door shattered the stillness.. Satoru’s grip on your hand loosened as the nurse poked her head into the room with an apologetic expression on display.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. and Mrs. Gojou,” she began, her voice quiet and gentle, “but you have a visitor.” Satoru’s brows furrowed slightly, but before he could ask, the nurse continued, “Her name is Ms. Akemi.”

At the mention of her name, he immediately sat up, his body tense as he instinctively prepared to stand. You felt the shift in his demeanor, the way his hand slipped from yours as he moved to the edge of the bed. You stayed still for a minute, processing the sudden change, and your heart sinking at the thought of yet another intrusion by her.

You took a deep breath as you began to pull away, already bracing yourself for what was to come, and for the inevitable exit he would make. Like always. Choosing another woman over you. Choosing another woman over his own child. Of course, that’s what he’s about to do, right? You started to gather the strength to let him go, to retreat back into your thoughts, until the nurse spoke again.

“Oh… Actually,” she said, her eyes flicking between you both, “Miss Akemi wants to see you, Ms. Y/N… not Mr. Gojou.”

——

Two things about this moment caught you off guard. First, Satoru’s sudden overprotectiveness—firmly insisting to the nurse that Akemi had no right to call for you again and that you shouldn’t be meeting her just to “talk.” And second, the fact that Akemi actually wanted to see you.

What was the catch?

What was her motive? 

You wondered if this was going to be another Sera moment. 

And you knew, even if your mind told you that you owed Akemi nothing, you were still curious about what she had to say. Would she demand Satoru’s time that you were taking from her? Or was she about to make a scene and call you a homewrecker? 

Strangely, of all the places, Akemi wanted to meet you at the hospital chapel. 

She was already there when you came, sitting at the last row amongst the empty pews, staring at the altar as if her brown eyes were glued to the massive cross in the center. In her solitude, you silently slipped into the opposite side of the pew, not exchanging any eye-contact until she noticed your presence. 

When she turned, she seemed startled to see you. “Y/N.”

You said nothing, only staring at the cross in front of you.

“I was just…” She trailed off, glancing toward the altar before looking back at you. “I was praying for Sachiro. I heard his surgery was a success.”

Your arms crossed over your chest, but your voice was steady. “It was.”

“I’m glad.” A small, genuine smile plastered over her lips. “I really am. He’s a strong boy… just like his mom.”

A scoff threatened to rise in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You weren’t here to fight. Not anymore. Not when you were far too grateful for Sachiro’s successful operation to still be holding grudges on others. But that didn’t mean you had to fake being happy next to Akemi. All you did was nod in appreciation. 

But Akemi hesitated, then spoke again about what seemed to be her main concern of going here. “Has Satoru been here? I mean… all this time?”

“Yes.” A pause. A flicker of something unreadable crossed her expression, but your rigid expression appeared to have intimidated her. “If you’re here to ask him to go home with you, then—”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You blinked. Of all the things you expected, an apology wasn’t one of them.

“For everything,” she continued. “For being with Satoru even when I knew who you were to him. For pretending I didn’t see the way he looked at you, the way he still loved you. I was selfish. I let my delusions get to me, thinking that he’s exactly who I needed in my life to feel whole again.” She then let out a bitter laugh, one that lacked amusement. “You don’t know this, but I used to envy you. Your life. Your place in his heart. The way you had people around you. The way he loved you… The way you have a beautiful son and an equally beautiful husband. I wanted that for myself. I thought if I tried hard enough, if I gave him everything, if I tried to be like you, maybe he’d love me the same way.” Her voice wavered. “But no matter how much time passed, it always felt like he was looking past me. Like he was imagining someone else by his side. And I knew. I always knew.”

You exhaled slowly, your fingers tightening around the edge of the pew. You weren’t expecting to hear all of those things from her. Not after everything that had happened. 

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” Akemi admitted, her gaze dropping to the floor. “But I needed to say this. Because I know you’re not happy that Satoru’s been visiting me, too. At least, until he ended things officially between us. And probably until he learned about your pregnancy… Is it true?”

Your breath hitched, but you remained still.

“The baby’s a blessing, Y/N.” She lifted her chin, meeting your eyes with quiet resignation. “It’s exactly what I had hoped for myself… but I’m sick. I’m critically ill. Stage three endometrial cancer, to be exact.”

For the first time, something shifted in you. Shock. Pity. Confusion. You ended up returning her gaze—her lachrymose brown eyes that seemed to envy your entire being.  

“H-He feels bad for me,” she continued, her voice softer now. “That’s why he’s been coming back and forth. He doesn’t love me—not the way I wanted—but he can’t turn away from someone who’s suffering. That’s who he is.”

You looked away, pressing your lips together, not knowing how to navigate a conversation with the sick friend who betrayed you.

“I don’t expect anything from him anymore. And I don’t expect anything from you, either.” Akemi’s lips curved into a sad smile. “I just wanted you to know that… I’m letting go. Of him. Of the past. Of everything.”

You held your breath back. 

“I hope, one day, you can forgive him. Maybe even me. I know I lost a good friendship because of my bad decisions.”

She turned towards you, reaching for your hand that she soon softly squeezed. In that millisecond, you caught a glimpse of Nanami standing by the door, seemingly waiting for Akemi to finish her last words with you. 

“Take care of him, Y/N. And take care of yourself.”

——

When you returned to the room, Satoru was pacing back and forth, running a hand through his disheveled hair, his jaw clenched in barely restrained nerves. The second he caught sight of you in the doorway, his shoulders sagged with relief, but his expression remained taut with worry.

“Y/N,” he exhaled, striding toward you in a rush. “What did she say? Was she rude to you? Did she—”

You didn’t let him finish.

Before he could spiral further, you grabbed him by the collar and silenced him with a firm kiss.

For a brief, stunned moment, he stiffened—his breath catching against your lips. Then, just as quickly, he melted into you, hands coming up to cradle your face as if you’d disappear if he let go. His lips moved over yours, not demanding, not desperate—just seeking, just holding.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes still half-lidded with dazed confusion.

“Stop overthinking,” you murmured, fingers gently brushing the nape of his neck.

Satoru swallowed hard, searching your face for answers. “Y/N…”

But a soft noise from the hospital bed cut the moment short. Both your heads snapped toward Sachiro, who was stirring beneath the sheets, and his tiny fingers twitching as his eyelids fluttered open.

Satoru let out a shaky laugh, a watery grin spreading across his face as he rushed to his son’s side. “Hey, Sachi,” he choked out. “You’re awake.”

You moved closer, blinking away the sudden sting in your eyes as Sachiro groggily turned to look at both of you. “My baby…”

“Mama…? Dada…?” His voice was weak, but the way he reached for both of you made your chest ache.

You took his small hand in yours, pressing it against your cheek as Satoru smoothed down his hair, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead. “We’re here, baby,” you whispered. “We’re right here. How are you feeling, my sunshine?”

The nurses came shortly after, and then his doctor also took a visit. According to him, Sachiro showed good signs of recovery and ordered the medical staff to remove the devices attached to your son one by one as his progress looked promising. Soon enough, with the doctor’s advice, Sachiro could even start his rehab to be able to resume his normal activities. Everything you were hearing were positive outcomes, nothing but good news. You couldn’t help but feel as if things were too good to be true, and wondered if there was anything substantially bigger that’d come and wreck you. 

The father of your child seemed to have noticed the moment you became silent, swallowed by the anxious thought of what was to come, and he came to wrap his arms around you, securing you in his embrace, and rubbing your belly from behind. 

You could see the nurses noticing your little display of affection and so you tried to push Satoru off, but he didn’t budge. He only held you tighter and buried his face into your shoulder. 

“Let me just recharge here for a bit,” he mumbled, as though you were the battery that was giving him energy. “Just let me hold you, please.” 

——

You hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room yet, and the only real chance to do so came the following night, when Sachiro’s nanny took over in the suite. She kept you updated on his condition, while you—following your doctor’s advice—chose to finally get some proper rest at home.

But knowing your family, they’d bombard you with questions about Satoru the moment you walked through the door. Maybe that’s why you agreed to his suggestion—to stay the night at the penthouse. The same home you once shared as husband and wife.

Was it a rash decision? An impulsive one? Maybe exhaustion had driven you here, standing under the warm stream of his shower as he waited outside. It was strange how comforting this place still felt. How familiar, yet mind-warping it was. This was the same home where he had slept with Akemi. How could you feel both at ease and deeply unsettled?

By the time you stepped out, you stood in front of the vanity mirror, drying your hair as your gaze fell to your barely noticeable bump. You weren’t showing just yet, and knew that there was still time to decide. Did you want this baby? Keeping it meant Satoru would be even more tied to you. Letting it go meant sparing it from a toxic environment and the possibility of inheriting your heart condition.

Lost in thought, you barely heard Satoru’s knock before he entered, carrying your old pajamas. Without a word, he helped you into them with quiet care, his touch gentle but respectfully distant. He guided you like a loving husband would to his pregnant wife, up until you were settled under the warm duvet of your old bed, where he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Is there anything you want for breakfast?” he asked, “Anything you’re craving? Lemon bars? PB&J? I can run to the grocery store now if you want.”

His reminder of your old pregnancy cravings squeezed at your heart. It took you back to the days where you were immensely, unselfishly in love with him. “It’s almost midnight.”

“I’d do anything for you and baby.” 

Maybe this was his way to consume you with guilt, knowing you still haven’t really decided if you wanted to keep the baby, yet here he was doing his everything just to show you how he wanted to care for his youngest. Would you be too cruel to ruin his fantasy?

“I’ll sleep in the guest room,” he murmured when he didn’t get any answer. “Call me if you need me.” 

“Wait.” You regretted your words the moment you opened your mouth. “Stay.” 

Because why? Just why did you ask him to stay? Why did you want him beside you? Why did you enjoy his warmth and his presence and his love? This was the same man who wrecked you to shreds, to pieces. How could you betray yourself and still trust him? 

You didn’t need the answer right now, all you needed was Satoru’s gentle gaze, his careful embrace, and the way he caressed your face as he joined you in bed. You could tell he wanted to try for a kiss, but decided not to cross any lines you weren’t comfortable with. 

“I’m dreaming, am I?” he asked, seemingly musing at the thought. 

You sighed. “I’d hope so.” 

“Y/N.” His voice was soft as he said your name. “I love you.” 

Closing your eyes, you replied, “Give me time.” 

[ponderingmoonlight]

Kento bringing his baby daughter to work so she can meet the first years! And Gojo… (who she ends up loving making Kento jealous 😭)

“Are you sure this sits right with you love? I don’t want you to do something because you’re feeling uncomfortable.”

Oh so gently, your husband grabs you by your waist and pulls you closer.

“You didn’t enjoy a day with your friends since I can remember. You deserve to have a little time for yourself.”

“But not if that means you are forced to take our daughter to work-“

“Forced? Apart from you, she’s what I’m most proud of. Please don’t worry, darling. This is nothing but a short day at Jujutsu High”, he soothes you while placing a small kiss on your forehead.

To be honest, there are a lot of things Kento Nanami would rather do than taking his baby girl to meet those jerks at school. But if it means you’ll have a day off to go shopping and enjoy yourself, he’d do everything he can.

“I’ll text you when I’m back. Have a nice trip and don’t hesitate to buy something.”

Nanami arrives at Jujutsu High with his baby daughter nestled securely against his chest in a soft carrier with that unsettling feeling rising in his chest.

This day will be exhausting.  

The minute he sets one foot inside the classroom, everything goes silent. In fact, it takes the first years a couple of seconds to actually register that this is him, that this is the usually so cool and composed Kento Nanami standing in front of him – with a baby nestled against his chest.

“She’s so tiny!” Nobara gasps, immediately rushing over, her hands reaching out before she hesitates.

“Wait, can I hold her? Will she break?”

Nanami adjusts the straps of the carrier, his lips pressing into a flat line.

“She’s not made of glass, but no, you can’t her yet.”

Megumi, ever the observant one, tilts his head.

“She looks just like you,” he comments, noting the serious set of the baby’s expression.

Even at such a young age, she seems to have inherited Nanami’s unimpressed stare.

Yuji, on the other hand, is all but vibrating with excitement.

“She’s adorable! Look at her little cheeks!”

He grins and waves like a maniac.

“Hi, baby Nanamim!”

Your baby, snug against her father’s chest, blinks up at them, her tiny fingers clenching into the fabric of his shirt. Then, her gaze shifts, and her entire demeanor changes.

“Ah,” Gojo comments, dramatically placing a hand over his heart while entering the room.

“A little lady with refined taste. She already knows true greatness when she sees it.”

Nanami sighs as his daughter reaches her chubby arms out toward Gojo, her usual serious face replaced with sheer delight. She babbles excitedly, tiny legs kicking against the carrier as if demanding to be picked up.

Betrayal. Utter betrayal is everything Nanami feels.

When you told him about the way his daughter looked at Gojo when you visited a few days earlier, he thought that you were joking. After all, there’s no way his daughter would actually fall for that jerk, right?

Gojo doesn’t hesitate, stepping forward with a broad grin.

“Oh? Do you want Uncle Gojo to hold you?”

He barely waits for permission before scooping her up, spinning her lightly in the air, making her giggle - a sound so rare that everyone stares in awe.

Nanami pinches the bridge of his nose.

“This is a mistake.”

“Correction: This is destiny,” Gojo counters, holding her up as if she’s the Lion King cub.

“She’s chosen me.”

“She’s a baby,” Nanami replies dryly, watching as his daughter happily grabs at Gojo’s sunglasses, yanking them down to reveal his eyes. She coos, utterly enchanted.

Gojo laughs, winking.

“Guess I have a new favorite person. Sorry, Nanami.”

Nanami crosses his arms, watching his daughter adore Gojo with increasing jealousy.

“You’ll be returning her now.”

“Aw, but she loves me,” Gojo whines, spinning her again just to hear her delighted giggle.

“She sees the truth! That I am-”

“Gojo, if you finish that sentence, I will use my overtime hours just to deal with you.”

Gojo pouts but hands her back, though not before whispering,

“We’ll hang out again soon, princess. Hey, maybe your wife likes me that much as well-”

“Shut. Up.”

Nanami glares as his daughter makes grabby hands at Gojo even in his arms.

Utter. Betrayal.

[science-hoes]

Early Spring Snow

Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader

You didn’t mean to end up in your own ER after a grueling day shift. There had been an early spring snow in Pittsburgh a couple of days ago, and the daytime sun and nighttime freeze caused black ice to form everywhere. The Pitt was slammed with broken bones from slipping and falling. And you were about to be one of those patients.

You had originally planned to go back to your apartment, but your boyfriend, Jack Abbot, insisted that you go to his house while he was at work. If the weather continued to fluctuate, he wanted you to have access to his backup generator that would keep the electricity going. So you agreed, and you had picked up some groceries to cook breakfast for him when he got off his night shift.

You were double fisting the grocery bags as you walked up the sidewalk. Jack had salted the concrete to prevent black ice, and you could hear each crystal crunch under your shoes. You made it to the front door before realizing you left your keys in the car. With an annoyed huff that you could visualize in the icy air, you set the groceries down, and turned to run back to your car to get out of the cold as soon as possible.

And that was your mistake. Your foot found the singular patch of ice on the sidewalk that had evaded Jack’s salting efforts. You had no time to react, and instinctively, your hands braced your fall as you fell hard onto the concrete. A string of curse words hissed from your mouth as you unsteadily rose to your feet. You brushed off the salt from your knees and upper body, but there was an odd pain coming from your left arm.

Because of your puffy coat, you couldn’t initially see that your forearm was going in a direction that it shouldn’t. In fact, the lower half of your forearm didn’t seem to be connected to your upper half.

Fuck. You knew the endorphins were gonna wear off soon, and you wanted to be under a considerable amount of pain meds when it did. Drunk with adrenaline, you got back in your car and drove to the Pitt, ditching the groceries at Jack’s front door.

When you arrived at the parking lot of the Pitt, you were grateful to find it generally unbusy. You walked through the front door and passed through the waiting room. Mel King was the first one to spot you. She grinned and waved eagerly.

“What are you doing here?” She asked excitedly.

You smiled at your friend’s enthusiasm, but the pain in your arm reminded you of your reason to visit. “I think I broke my arm.” You replied.

Mel’s smile quickly vanished, and she began to usher you towards an empty room. “Oh, that’s not good. Let’s get you checked out.” She said.

You entered the room and began to take off your puffy winter coat. You tossed it on the chair in the room, and you heard Mel gasp. Her eyes were locked on your arm, and you saw for the first time how bad it was. Definitely broken.

She sat you on the edge of the bed and immediately began a physical exam of your wounded arm. “What happened?” She asked.

You sighed, feeling embarrassment course through your veins after teasing patients all day about this very thing. “Slipped on black ice.” You responded.

Mel nodded, not an ounce of judgment on her face. What an angel. “I’m gonna go get you a sling and get you in line for an x-ray. I’ll order some morphine, too.” She said, about to run out of the room, but hesitated for a second. “Any chance you’re pregnant?” She asked.

You felt the default answer of “no” in the back of your throat, but you stopped yourself. You had irregular periods, and you and Jack weren’t the best at using protection every time he wanted to fuck you. Although you were confident that you were not, you found yourself answering “I don’t know.”

Mel nodded, taking the information the best she could. You could see from her reaction that she was a little surprised. “Um, okay! Let me get you a sling and we’ll do a urine test before we send you off to x-ray.” She said.

And you were alone in the room again. You shifted uncomfortably on the hospital bed and wondered if you should tell Mel to get Jack. The only person on staff that knew of your relationship with him was Robby. There wasn’t much opportunity for others to speculate because day shift rarely interacted with night shift. You decided against telling Jack as you vaguely remembered seeing a mass of doctors and nurses in Trauma 1.

Mel soon returned with the sling and urine cup. “Alright, let’s get you in this sling.” She said.

She guided your distorted arm into the holder of the sling, making sure you didn’t endure anymore pain. Once the strap was adjusted, she handed you the urine cup. “You know the rules. Wipe front to back with the sanitary towel, pee for a few seconds, then collect the specimen.” She instructed.

You smiled slightly. “Thank you.” You replied before heading to the bathroom.

Getting your dirtied scrub bottoms off with one hand was much harder than you thought it would be. Bits of salt were still buried in the fabric, and they began to fall onto the tile floor of the bathroom as you shimmied out of the pants. You followed Mel’s instructions to a T, then did your best to wash your good hand with soap and warm water.

As you headed back to your room, you caught a glance of Trauma 1. Jack was commanding the room with ease and working hard to creatively intubate the patient. Your heart fluttered at the sight, rarely getting to see your boyfriend in action. You reentered the room, and Mel was there waiting for you.

“Why aren’t you in Trauma 1?” You asked.

Mel took the cup from your hands and immediately dipped a pregnancy test. “Oh, they have too many people in there already.” She answered and placed the test and cup on the counter behind her. “Plus, Doctor Abbot is scary in trauma situations.”

You giggled and sat on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, he can be pretty fierce in a high stress situation.” You replied, trying not to let on the extent of which you knew him.

Mel nodded and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “You know, I’ve heard Princess and Perlah mention that he has a girlfriend now. He’s been a lot less mean.” She added.

Your face flushed, and you prayed the fluorescent lighting wouldn’t highlight the redness. “Oh, seriously?” You tried to fake.

“Yeah. She works on the day shift I think. I don’t know who it is. Do you?” She looked to you, genuinely curious.

You shrugged nonchalantly, honing in on your best acting skills. “I don’t think so. But now I’ll be on the look out.” You replied.

Mel turned slightly to look at the test. “Oh. Um…let me get another test.” She said before hurrying out of the room.

You raised an eyebrow but figured she may not have saturated the first test enough. When she returned, she dipped the second test in the cup and placed it next to the first one.

“I’m gonna get you some acetaminophen for the baseline pain.” She said and disappeared again.

You let out a disappointed sigh. Acetaminophen wasn’t going to do shit with your broken arm. Morphine would work a lot better and faster. Mel returned with a couple of pills and a small cup of water. You downed the pills, hoping they would provide some relief.

Mel peered over at the pregnancy tests again, and you could see she was uncomfortable by the way she wrung her hands. “Okay, so both of these tests are positive. You’re pregnant.” She said, not knowing the exact tone to use.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. You couldn’t even speak, but with your free hand, you reached out. Mel handed both tests to you. And she was right. Two lines instead of one. Pregnant. Your hand began to tremble, and the room spun around you.

Mel noticed your distress and placed a hand on your shoulder to push you back against the bed. Your head came to rest on the mattress. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s just take some deep breaths, okay?” She tried to calm you.

You nodded, and you followed her lead in taking two deep breaths. “I’m sorry, I just-…I didn’t know.” You admitted sheepishly.

Mel nodded. “That’s okay. It’s not what you expected. Let me go get the ultrasound machine, and I can see how far along you are.” She said before hurrying out.

You were alone in the room again. Pregnant. How could you not know? You didn’t have any morning sickness. Your irregular periods made for a perfect red herring. Maybe your bras had been a little tighter, but you assumed that was from eating extra snacks in between breaks. Oh. Eating extra snacks. Yeah, that was one sign.

Then all you could think about was Jack. You had talked about the future, about kids, but that was wishy washy stuff. You expected that to be much farther into the future. If it ever happened. Not now. Was he going to be mad? Or sad? Was he going to leave?

You were brought back to reality when Mel swung the curtain open and wheeled the ultrasound in. “Okay, I’m gonna put some warm gel on your belly, could you lift up your shirt?” She asked.

You did as she asked, and your eyes were riveted on the compression marks from your scrub pants. They had been a little snug lately. Mel squirted the gel onto your belly, then took the probe to navigate.

“We may not see anything if it’s still early. I’ll have to use the transvaginal probe if it is. But…” She trailed off as she watched the screen. “It looks like we can see baby right now. Inside the uterus where it belongs.”

You looked to the screen, and there it was. Your baby. Jack’s baby. The outline of a head and body. Arms and legs compressed against it. Just a little fetus. You felt an odd feeling in your chest, a mix between anxiety and joy.

“Oh. That’s my baby.” You said, not even aware that it was out loud and not in your head.

The curtain swung open, and you flinched at the sudden sound. Mel’s hand jerked away from your belly and turned around. Jack stood there, trying to take in the sight before him.

“What are you doing here?” He asked firmly, but you could tell he was distressed in his eyes.

You looked awkwardly to Mel, who decided to present you as a patient case. “29-year-old female presenting with suspected left radial and ulnar fractures after a fall.” She stated, in perfect form.

Jack looked to the ultrasound and back to you, unable to follow based on Mel’s presentation. “So what’s the ultrasound for?” He asked.

Mel shifted uncomfortably, not sure if she should share her coworker’s business. But you were a patient now. “She had two positive pregnancy tests, and I was confirming with ultrasound before sending her to x-ray.” She explained. “Would you like to check?”

Jack had kept his eyes on you the whole time, something unreadable in his face. You had gotten pretty good at understanding the small changes in his expression. He never smiled, even when he laughed, so you had to pick up on the tiniest changes to figure out his mood. But this was new.

“Yes, thank you, Dr. King.” He answered, trading places with her on the rolling stool next to your bed.

He dragged the probe across your belly, staring straight at the screen. You watched him intently, trying to decipher his body language.

“Dr. King, can you give an estimated gestational age?” He asked.

Mel looked at the monitor, noting the baby’s features. “About 12 weeks. About to start the second trimester.” She answered.

You felt another wave of anxiety rush through you. You missed the entire first trimester. “A-are you sure?” You asked.

Jack nodded, not looking away from the screen. “She’s right. Measuring at about 5.4 centimeters.” He confirmed, voice as firm as ever.

Mel looked to you, a small smile on her face. “At 12 weeks, you can tell the gender.” She reminded you.

You looked to Jack, who was diligently studying the baby’s anatomy, making sure there were absolutely no informalities as of now. “The gender?” You repeated, and it brought Jack back to reality.

Jack turned to look at you fully for the first time since he entered the room. Those hazel eyes were welled up with tears, and he was doing everything he could from letting them spill over. “Do you want to know?” He asked, and you could hear the barely-there strain in his vocal cords.

You nodded, not breaking his eye contact. “Yes, please.” You whispered.

It took ounce of military training to hold Jack from breaking down in tears. “It’s a boy.” He answered as steadily as he could.

You smiled, then grinned, and tears streaked down your cheeks. “A boy?” You repeated.

Jack nodded, twisting his face to prevent himself from crying, grateful his face was turned away from Mel. “Yeah, a healthy baby boy.” He affirmed.

You brought your free hand to your face to wipe away some of the tears, and you laughed with a new joy you hadn’t felt before. Jack turned away from you in that moment, but still not fully facing Mel.

“Dr. King, could you go check with imaging and see if they’re ready?” He asked.

Mel nodded. “Yes, sir.” She replied, but looked to you and smiled the biggest smile she had. “Congrats on the baby boy!”

You matched her smile. “Thank you, Mel.” You replied, and then she disappeared behind the curtain.

Before you could begin to speak, Jack wrapped you into his arms, carefully cradling you to avoid your broken arm. The love you felt from that embrace had more than exceeded your expectations. “You’re not mad?” You asked, pulling away slightly.

Jack looked to you with an offended demeanor. “Mad?” He questioned while rubbing your shoulder. “Sweetheart, I could never be mad at you.” He added. “Especially over this.”

You smiled and ran your free hand through his thick, silvered curls. “You’re gonna be a dad.” You whispered.

Jack’s bottom lip quivered, and the tears spilled over his face. “I’m gonna be a dad.” He repeated.

You had never seen him cry before. You desperately wished you had two available arms to pull him tightly into your embrace. Instead, you guided his head to rest close to yours and kissed him gently. He energetically returned the kiss, fingers threading through your hair. But he pulled away when reality hit him.

“Wait, how did you break your arm?” He asked, a new wave of concern washing over his face.

You rolled your eyes at your own clumsiness. “I slipped and fell on black ice outside of your house.” You responded.

Jack huffed, disappointed that he hadn’t put down enough salt. “I’m sorry, love. I thought I fixed it up for you.” He replied.

You shrugged and a slow smile found its way to your lips. “It’s okay. Because now I’m here. And now we have a baby.”

Jack’s concerned expression melted into one of pure happiness. It was one that you had only seen a few times. But despite his tear-streaked face, the joy was unmistakable.

—

A/N: Yeah I’m a sucker for giving my favorite characters a baby, sorry this wasn’t super long, but I wanted to write it before the week started!

[dearmisshoney]

1,2,3,4 i declare a finger war

pairing. brother's bsf! theo x reader

content/mdni. brother’s bsf! theo, fem! reader, bratty! reader, choking, fingering, edging, (slight) brat taming, degradation, enemies-to-lovers tension, dom! theo, manhandling, allusion to overstimulation, light restraints, power play, humiliation, dirty talk, slight dacryphilia, praise (condescending), pet names (condescending), smut with little plot word count. 1.6k

a/n. the little drabble from the poll ✨ it has nothing to do with my big theo fic! you can read it as a standalone. let me know what you think! 💖

ever since you’ve learnt what the middle finger meant, you’ve been shoving it in theo nott’s face every chance you got. be it behind your brother’s back — mostly in your early childhood —  or up front, the middle finger has substituted the classic wave when it came to ‘greeting’ theo.

now, you weren’t doing that out of your own accord.

no.

rather, theo was the first one who refused to greet you like a normal human being.

a snot-nosed brat like you is not deserving of his kindness, he would always say, pushing you away from his face and threatening to snap your middle finger in half.

mattheo never intervened between the two of you; in his eyes it was all just playful banter. it was also quite funny to see the two of you practically wrestling one another, each pressing middle fingers into the other’s skin to assert dominance.

neither of you would have expected to end up like this one day though.

you, almost naked, spread open across theo’s lap, with your well-known middle finger slowly pumping into your cunt.

guided by theo’s larger hand.

his legs were curled around your ankles, stopping you from clamping your thighs around your joined arms. his other hand was latched around your throat, fingers gripping underneath your jaw and redirecting your stupid face down to your needy pussy.

“is this what you wanted, huh, brat?” he grunted in your ear, his hot breath fanning against your skin.

theo was angry, that was for certain, and it was allll your fault.

you fucked around and found out that his stupid threats of sticking your finger up where the sun doesn’t shine were actually true.

you also made the mistake of underestimating theo and his strength, challenging him like you did when you were little. unfortunately for you, theo was now a strong young man who easily managed to fold your body as he pleases.

and there you were, fully trapped by him, each and every movement of yours being controlled by his hands.

his current task? keeping your fidgety eyes on the steady movement of his hand. so, forcing you to lower your gaze, your eyes now observed the way his long and sturdy fingers were guiding your shorter middle finger in and out of your tight hole.

each thrust of his was agonizingly sluggish, yet it made you wetter and wetter, more of your arousal oozing out, staining your inner thighs and both of your hands in the process.

what a slut you were.

“take in the consequences of your actions.”

you were literally taking them in, at a tortuously slow pace.

your hand was twitching in his, eager to add more fingers into your cunt, or at least to speed up the rhythm of your middle finger. but no, theo had to teach you a lesson about flipping him off so arrogantly all the time; and that meant using that exact finger of yours to torture you to death.

“you’re so fucking wet, bloody hell!”

theo was shocked by how drenched you were from something that could barely be considered fingering. he has been taunting your poor pussy for a while, yes, but your body reacted like it has been edged for hours. what could have possibly made you respond so well to him?

oh.

“you like being degraded, huh? hearing me call you a dirty slut turns you on?”

you could feel theo smirking against your face, his lips curling upwards right against your cheek. he was so close, yet you didn’t dare turn around; the pressure of his fingers against your throat was too strong to be defied. he was definitely leaving big circular bruises from how hard he was digging into your skin.

that made more arousal pool in your stomach.

theo should have realized sooner what a nasty girl you were. you like being degraded — your long gasp of pleasure was a clear signal that he guessed it right.

and you were in luck! he loves humiliating you at every step. he might as well take advantage of that, no?

“is this how you usually do it, hm? finger-fucking this greedy pussy with your small fingers?”

forcefully turning your face towards his, the image of your weeping cunt was changed to a closer view of theo’s blown out pupils and grinning lips. he was indeed enjoying himself, having the time of his life subduing you and your bratty attitude.

“faster...”

you managed to bite back, throwing at him a defiant half-smile.

a part of you was begging for it, so overwhelmed with need that release was your only goal. another part of you, however, was still sticking to your rebellious self, striving to regain control and command theo around.

no matter the reasoning behind it, your hand already stiffened against his grip, expecting a serious increase in speed.

too bad theo didn’t think the same.

“you don’t deserve it, baby.”

such a sweet pet name for such malicious words.

simply hearing his cruel verdict made you whine in agony, your entire dream shattered by his refusal. your eyes began to flood with tears when theo ceased the thrusts of your hand completely, removing your finger with a wet squelch from your hole.

nononononononono.

there was no point in trying to plunge your finger back against his will, as theo caged your entire hand in his own, blocking any sort of friction with your poor cunt.

“why–why–why– i hate you so much– ugh–”

tears rapidly spilled from your eyes from frustration, your lips crushing one another into a pout. you looked so devastated, it almost made theo feel bad. almost.

he knew better than to fall for your cheap tricks.

“you think i give a fuck? oh, you’re so dumb.”

you started trashing against his hold, trying to escape the entailment of limbs theo had trapped you in, cussing at him the best you could.

the ache between your legs turned unbearable, and the strong squeeze of his hand against yours, gatekeeping any sort of release, only made you more restless.

“i will finger myself then.”

allowing theo to do as he pleases with your dominant hand, you made use of your spare hand to resume your prior engagement. it was a bit sloppy to finger yourself with your other hand, but you would do anything to defy theo and get that sweet sweet orgasm.

he did not like that.

“behave.”

one word of his and a harsh tug against your throat made your bratty outburst stop. any possible whiny remarks were cut of by his fingers tightening against your airpipe, silencing you for good. your free hand immediately jumped away from your pussy, reaching towards your neck to lessen the pressure on your throat.

you looked so cute like that: wide-eyed, tear-stained, gasping for air.

a quiet mouth that doesn’t bitch about anything.

a stray tear made its way down across your cheek, your eyes swelling with a new wave of tears. was it the actual lack of air or was it his behaviour that made you react like this? perhaps a combination of both.

then what about your needy pussy getting wetter?

“you wanna cum, baby?”

the glint is his eyes told you he was planning something terrible. but the painful throb of need told you he was the only way to orgasm.

the compression on your throat only allowed you to nod, so that’s what you did. eagerly bobbing your head up and down, you offered theo a clear answer.

“ah– th–o–…”

the sudden feeling of his own calloused fingers on your cunt made you moan out loud, half his name rolling deliciously out of your mouth at the slightest contact of his digits with your desperate little hole. just feeling him press against the exterior of your entrance made you dizzy with lust.

“pathetic slut.”

he could see the way you so easily became putty to his touch. and, shit, if it wasn’t a sight to behold. he would memorize the way your entire face was washed over with relief, your tears practically vanishing from your face in an instant; if it weren’t for your red eyes, he could have sworn you never cried.

“i will finger this dirty cunt with my fingers…”

loosening slightly his grasp on your neck, theo allowed you to form full words again.

“yesyesye–”

his middle finger prodded at your entrance, slowly dipping into your cunt up until his first knuckle. his digit was thicker and longer than yours, so the stretch of your warm walls felt so much better with this second intrusion.

even if he was just one knuckle deep.

“but...”

pressing his forehead against the side of your face, theo was gathering up his thoughts to create a condition for you. to torture you more and more.

“yes– plue–ease, theo. anything, please.”

he groaned loudly at your pleas, vibrations running across your tear-stained cheeks, down along your spine.

your sweet desperate voice shot straight to his cock and made him twitch in his pants, his hips buckling into your ass automatically. his arm strained against your leg, veins protruding against his skin from the tension; he was trying his best to not throw you on the bed and fuck you.

self-control, self-control, self-control–

you never say please. never. so for you to do that now?

self-cont–... fuckkk.

if he wanted to impose a condition on you before, he now had no willpower to do so.

“you’re impossible, really.”

you really had each other wrapped around the middle finger.

you threw your head back against his shoulder when theo finally inserted his entire finger. and when he started moving it at a nice even speed, curling his finger into that sweet spot of yours that you barely reach with your fingers— you saw stars.

“oh my god– ish so good.”

and that was only one finger.

“shit, baby, you needed this.”

digging his fingers into your throat again, theo moved your head away from his shoulder and redirected your attention back between your legs, to his hand. hand which was now carefully working in a second finger.

“how many fingers on a hand, pretty?” he asked, now pumping two digits into your pussy.

“f–five.”

“three more to go then.”

tags: @cafechichay, @downbad4reid

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

a beautiful little lie. [chapter 3] l Harry Castillo

Summary:  you are the personal assistant of Harry Castillo, a wealthy entrepreneur who asks you to go with him to his friend's wedding. there you meet your ex-boyfriend and things get out of hand

Warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, friends to lovers (maybe?), some wine, mentioning ex-boyfriend,

A/N: my head has been having bad days lately. it took me a long time to start this chapter and I had moments of doubt whether it makes sense at all. but here it is and although it's not perfect I'm giving it to you. I hope that at least a few people will like it. thank you for reading my scribbles.

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist] [Harry Castillo masterlist] [a beautiful little lie- series masterlist]

Harry Castillo: Is everything okay between us?

You: Sure! Don't worry.

He stared at those three words with childish hope, even though his insides were full of fears and worries. You were his assistant, his friend, and he really cared about you. The situation that had arisen that evening was a bit awkward, and Harry was even ready to apologize to you for it. But maybe he shouldn't have mentioned it at all?

He breathed a sigh of relief when the door opened at the appointed time and you stepped out. The dress you were wearing beautifully accentuated your figure, which moved gracefully as you walked to the car.

“Stay.” Harry said quickly to the driver and got out of the car, then went to open the door for you. “Hi. You look stunning.”

A shy smile appeared on your lips. "Thank you. You don't look too bad either." You replied.

A few seconds later, you were both sitting on the leather couch in the back of a limo as the driver drove you through the crowded city. The silence between you wasn't unbearable, but it certainly wasn't natural. You could feel Harry's quick glances at you, but it took you a few minutes to decide to say something.

"Mrs. Kruger-Waltz should be here after the weekend. I got an email this morning."

Speaking of work, a safe topic. Harry cleared his throat. “Good. Sorry you had to deal with that today, you probably had a lot of work to prepare for.”

"Not really. I just put on what was hanging somewhere in the back of my closet. You should be glad it's not my prom dress."

You both chuckled and the tense atmosphere seemed to ease a little.

"I wanted to apologize." This time, Harry spoke up. "I made you feel awkward yesterday. That could have been very uncomfortable for you." 

“It’s fine, really.” You replied, looking at him as if you were waiting for him to finally end this conversation. “We know perfectly well that nothing will happen. You and I, we only work together.”

"Right. But either way... I'm sorry."

You instinctively reached out and lightly squeezed his forearm. "It's fine."

You exchanged uncertain smiles. In reality, you had all night to think about everything that had happened. The conclusion was simple - you had both succumbed to the moment, but luckily your brain reacted at the last moment before it became a disaster. It was comforting, because you really liked Harry and you didn't want something like this - stupid? irrelevant? pointless? - to ruin a really great relationship. Besides, Castillo was your boss, and no normal person kisses their boss, even if he looked like...

You quickly glanced at Harry sitting next to you. He looked really good in that suit that was tailored to his order. No matter if you saw him in a formal or casual version, the man always looked good, even though he put in minimal effort. How on earth had no woman ever kept him around for longer? It was a mystery to you.

"Get ready." He said as the car pulled up in front of the building. Brown eyes looked at you and after a moment he added. "If you want to leave, just say so. There's nothing keeping us here."

You nodded, feeling your stomach twist into knots.

Even though you and Harry had been to a few of these types of parties, you hadn't learned to behave yourself around the distinguished guests alone. Suddenly, the dress you were wearing looked cheap and boring, and you certainly weren't as pretty as most of the women there.

But Harry was always there, making sure you didn't get lost among the people and every now and then throwing in some funny remarks that relieved some of the stress.

“You have to come visit us sometime, Harry. L.A. will give you everything you want.” Mr. Murphy, the older man Castillo was talking to, patted him on the shoulder paternally. “And bring your lovely companion. Have you ever been to the City of Angels, young lady?”

You smiled at him over your glass of champagne. “I haven’t had the chance.” Harry shot you a quick, furtive glance. “But I trust your word, it’s certainly stunning.”

"Not like you, not like you!" Murphy laughed "I have to apologize now. I see Mr. Donovan is heading our way, and I need to talk to him."

You said your goodbyes and were alone again for a while. The party really wasn't that bad, except for a few boring speeches and weak toasts. Harry was often approached by guests, and you politely stepped aside, trying not to bother them. However, when another businessman approached him, you quickly signaled to him that you were going to the toilet and disappeared among the crowd.

The clock in the lobby showed that it was slowly approaching 11pm as you passed more and more people. You enjoyed watching them. Perfect looking, dressed in expensive clothes, adorned with jewelry straight from the best jewelers, smelling of the most exclusive perfumes. It was Harry Castillo who gave you the opportunity to see this part of the world, and you still felt like a tourist there.

"We've been running into each other a lot lately, don't you think?"

You turned around and spotted him immediately. Daniel was smiling as he walked over to you. The knot you had in your stomach the entire party tightened even more.

"Daniel!" you plastered a smile on your face, "It's nice to see you again."

The man looked around, then leaned in slightly towards you. "You're not alone here, are you?"

"No. I'm here with Ca... With Harry." At the last moment, you bit your tongue, and warmth crept up to your chest. You didn't want to continue with this lie, but the situation demanded it. "And you? Is Beth here too?"

He shook his head. "She wasn't feeling well today. It would have been better to stay home."

"Right."

You looked at each other for a moment until Daniel finally offered to walk you to the hall where the guests were gathered and where you had left Harry. You were going through all the possible sentences you could say to get rid of Daniel when someone gently took your arm.

You turned to see Mr. Murphy, who was smiling politely at you. “Sweetheart, please tell Mr. Castillo I’ll call him next week. Of course, my offer still stands—I think your boss should take you to Los Angeles with him. We’d love to have you over for dinner.”

"Of course, Mr. Murphy. I'll tell him everything. Are you leaving now?"

"Yeah, yeah. I've got an early flight and I'd like to catch a nap. These parties..." he looked around the room and laughed, "they're all for the young. Take care of yourself, darling."

He bowed once more and quickly walked away towards the exit. Only when he disappeared from your sight did you realize that Daniel had been listening to you the whole time, and now he was watching you closely.

"Are you Castillo's assistant?" he asked.

"Yeah, I am. We work together." you replied, feeling a cold shiver run down your spine. "Is something wrong?"

"No." Daniel shook his head and smiled uncertainly. "I just thought that you and him... I thought that you..."

"Oh! I finally found you."

You felt a familiar scent and a strong arm wrap around your waist. Harry. You didn't know he had been watching you since you entered the room, and Daniel's presence next to you intrigued him a little. He decided to appear next to you the moment he noticed your figure becoming more tense. He knew your body language very well.

"Mr. Castillo." Daniel nodded, greeting the man. "Again, I met your lovely companion first."

"Careful, I'm starting to suspect you want to steal her from me." Harry joked, his fingers lightly squeezing your side to signal 'I'm here with you'.

Daniel smiled again, his eyes darting between you as if he wanted to catch any little gesture or grimace that might tell him something more. “Don’t worry, I already have my own assistant. Although I assure you, yours is just as good.”

“She's the best, right, honey?”

You were so surprised by what Daniel had said that it took a split second for you to realize Harry had leaned down and brushed his lips against your temple. It was barely noticeable, but it achieved its purpose because something in Daniel's gaze changed. You could almost see his brain working overtime.

You didn't know what to do, how to escape this place. But Harry was by your side, which was a small relief. You weren't alone. The lie continued.

“Forgive us, Daniel.” Castillo spoke again. “We wanted to go home. It’s been a long day.”

"Of course. It was very nice to see you again, Mr. Castillo."

They nodded at each other, and then you felt Harry steer you toward the exit. Your legs struggled to carry you down the hallway. The knot in your stomach was so bad you were sure you were going to throw up. If bad things came in pairs, that was likely.

"He's watching."

Harry's quiet voice echoed by your ear. You turned your head slightly and looked at him in surprise. "Who?"

"Daniel." Harry replied. "He's watching us. I think he's starting to suspect something."

You blinked quickly, taking a deep breath. “Does it still matter? Murphy told him I was your assistant.”

"That doesn't have to change anything."

You stopped at the door to let a larger group of guests pass. You didn't dare look at Daniel, you couldn't. But you saw Harry's face and there was something indescribable in it. A mixture of concern, support for you, kindness.

"Do you want him to think you're just an assistant?" he asked. "Of course, you're more than that, but he doesn't know that."

"He thinks we're together." you mumbled, looking down. "Just take me home, Harry. I feel bad enough for tonight."

When he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, you didn't even flinch. Harry gently tilted your face up to look at him, it seemed so natural that you didn't know what to say or how to react.

"You don't owe him anything." he said, his voice quiet and warm, soothing. "And you can definitely give him something to think about."

"You think so?" your voice was close to a whisper.

"Yes. That's a brilliant idea."

Harry leaned in, your lips inches apart, until you finally felt his warm breath. You didn't resist, you didn't run away. It was so intoxicating that you even waited for it. When your lips touched, you felt something incredible happen. A soft and tender kiss, just a brush of lips. Nothing that would make you uncomfortable, but it was hard not to sink into it completely.

When Harry pulled away a quiet sigh escaped your chest.

"Come on, I'll take you home."

You didn't know why you cared that Daniel Stevens, your ex-boyfriend who broke your heart, thought you and your boss, Harry Castillo, were together. It didn't make any sense at all. But lately, fate really hadn't been on your side, and every time you'd met up, you felt like you were sinking deeper into a senseless lie.

God! It wasn't even a lie at first. Just an understatement. Now everything was changing faster and faster. You were losing control of everything.

That kiss, it shouldn't have happened at all. Harry was your boss and you really liked him, but it wasn't right. But when you got in the car, neither of you said a word. The emotions and thoughts were so intense inside you that you preferred to keep your mouth shut before something you might regret later slipped out.

The car drove you home, Castillo opened the door for you again, and you said goodbye. No more words, no sign that he was thinking the same thing. Lying in bed, you almost envied him—your head felt like an amusement park in the height of the season, and he was probably already asleep.

"Please, hold the elevator!"

At the last moment, a hand held the door open, allowing you to slip inside. You gasped, “Thank you,” leaning against the cold metal wall as someone next to you shifted, then said your name.

“If I didn’t know you worked for Castillo, I’d think you were stalking me.” Daniel stood next to you, smiling nonchalantly as if this meeting was the most normal thing in the world. 

“Sorry, I didn’t see you.” You replied, embarrassed, straightening up. “At this hour, I’m a bit…”

"Yeah, I know." He finished for you.

The elevator slowly began to rise, and you were silent for a few more floors. Finally, you spoke up. Maybe too nervously, but you had to ask. “I’ve never seen you in this building before. Do you have a meeting here?”

"Yes!" Daniel smiled and lifted his briefcase. "My client is already here."

"Oh. That's good."

But when the elevator stopped on your floor and you got off, you realized that Daniel was next to you again. The anxiety in your heart grew with each step, and when you reached your desk, you heard Daniel talking to Susan.

"I got a message that Mrs. Kruger-Waltz is already here. She's waiting for me."

"Yes, please hold on a moment." Susan reached for the receiver and dialed Castillo's internal number. Soon her voice filled the room again. "Mr. Stevens is here... Yes, she's already here too... Of course. Thank you."

With a soft click, the receiver returned to its place. “Mr. Stevens, you may come in.” And then your name was called. “Mr. Castillo is expecting you as well.”

Susan smiled politely, not even realizing that you felt like she was inviting you to the gallows. But you couldn’t refuse, so you grabbed the bare necessities and headed for the glass doors, trying to remember to breathe.

The office was brightly lit, and you immediately noticed Harry, who was sitting in a comfortable chair by the coffee table. He smiled when he saw you, then nodded towards the woman sitting on the couch. She was beautiful. Long blonde curls fell over her shoulders, and ruby ​​lipstick adorned her lips. She looked like a classic beauty, dressed in a well-fitted dress.

“This is Mrs. Diane Kruger-Waltz,” Harry said, and the woman nodded politely. “And I think we already know each other?”

Only then did you remember that Daniel had come in with you.

“Yes! Good morning, Mr. Castillo.” They shook hands, and the man moved toward Kruger-Waltz to sit some distance away from her. “I hope I didn’t miss anything.”

“Easy, Daniel.” The woman laughed lightly, showing white teeth. “It was just a very nice chat for now. You didn’t tell me that Mr. Castillo was such a charming man.”

"I asked you to call me Harry." Your boss reminded her, and then he showed you the other chair.

You sat up, feeling like you had “liar” written all over your forehead, and you hadn’t even done anything wrong. But you couldn’t let anything show. As conversation filled the office again, you took a deep breath and opened your notebook, ready to write down everything that was said there.

You were an assistant after all. Castillo was your boss. And this was your job.

Shit.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist: @nrschuster30 @maried01 @lunariantears @thatesqcrush @suzysface @youkeeno @legoemma @nuo0n @sarahhxx03 @hazzzy418 @pedrofan @peepawispunk @readingiskeepingmegoing @maryfanson @anoverwhelmingdin @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @axshadows @picketniffler @underneath-the-sky-again @kaysfanficcorner @noisynightmarepoetry @xmaykeca @orcasoul @sincerelywithheartt @southernbe @chaoticfestninja @telumendilsoul @hermionelove @paleidiot @lemon-world1

[straykidsnerd255]

I'm Yours, Truly

Title: I’m Yours, Truly

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo (w/system) x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff with a hint of angst at the beginning

Song: Would you fall in love with me again- Ithaca Saga Epic the musical

Rating: G

Warning(s): Jinwoo leaves for a raid that takes 15 years to complete even with the help of other National Hunters signing up to help, Jinwoo is 30, the reader is 29, Jinwoo and the reader are married with a son (Spoiler- its Suho)

Prompt: “You’re the most important thing to me”

Summary: You hadn’t seen your husband in 15 years. Your heart ached for his return, begging the gods above to bring your beloved back to you. Your son, Suho, had pointed to the man in the photos that sat on the tv stand, asking you in a small voice, “Mom, when will dad come back home?” Your heart aches waiting for the man you loved more than the air you breathe. The moment he appeared in your living room, blood soaked clothes, a tired smile and shining eyes, the simple words leaving his mouth making your heart sing, “I love you.”

Word Count: 1464

A/n: It was recently brought to my attention that Jinwoo is one word and two separate words like I have been writing in my one-shots, so I deeply apologize for my mistake on that.

Behind the collaboration: Me and @fairy-writes took the same character, same prompt and wrote. We wanted to see how different our writing styles were, so enjoy!

Her One-Shot linked HERE

Sitting in the chair that belonged to your husband, knees tucked to your chest, you stare out the window, the sun beaming down on the freshly bloomed roses. Your heart beating painfully in your chest as a fresh wave of tears filled your eyes. It had been 15 years since you last saw your husband. Months before the raid was to take place, you and Jinwoo were graced with your pregnancy. Your first child, a baby boy. Jinwoo had fused over you during the 8 months he would be with you, fluffing your pillow, massaging your swollen ankles, waking up at the most random times to get you food you were craving. All with the biggest smile on his lips. When he left for the raid, you were due a month later. 

Giving birth to your son without Jinwoo by your side was a harsh blow to your emotions. You were depressed, scared that your son would never see his father. Holding your baby, tears filled your eyes. He looked just like him. You little baby boy looked just like Jinwoo. Pressing soft kisses to your baby boy's head made your heart ache a little less but the ache was still there. Still a stark reminder that your husband was on a mission, a raid that could very well end his life. You kept your hopes up though. Smiling as the small bundle in your arms moved closer to your warmth.

“Mother,” Your son's voice pulled you from your thoughts.

Suho, your 15 year old son, stood in the doorway, his eyes swollen from crying. You stood from the chair and quietly walked towards your son. You place a hand on his shoulder and the other on his face. You watched as Suho heaved before breaking down and rushing into your arms. You held your son for a moment, your own heart breaking at the fact your sweet, baby boy had to grow up for 15 years without a father. Pulling away from your arms, Suho tried his best to stop his tears, but they would not stop. 

“Mother, when will father come back home?” His words gripped at your heart like the hands of a desperate monster clawing towards the light. You swallowed the lump in your throat, tears threatening to spill. “I don’t know. The raid should be over by now, we just have to wait.” You whispered, watching the pain swirl in your son's eyes. “I just want the pain to stop. I can’t take the comments that are being made towards me mom. The sick, and twisted comments about you. I just can’t.” he whispered the last words, twisting the knife like pain in your heart. Suho’s hands clenched as his body shook. 

You wanted to take your son's pain.

You wanted to take your son’s pain and bear his pain. You didn’t want your son to feel the burden that he was feeling. The pain that was eating away at the sweet, and happy little boy. The boy that had the brightest of smiles, the twinkle of wonder in his eyes. Now, the boy before you only felt dread, fear, and longing for someone that you believed had long since passed. 

Jinwoo was the first love you had ever had, the first kiss, the first real relationship. He was your first in everything. Now, he may be gone. He may have bitten off more than he could chew this time. Didn’t matter that multiple national rank hunters and s-rank hunters had gone to help, all that mattered was that this mission had most likely killed your husband and took your son’s father from him. 

You looked at your son, studied the way his body shifted, the way his eyes darted around. The pain that lay behind his gray eyes as he wiped the tears from them, trying to appear strong even though you could see right through him. You could see the pain laid bare before you, and it hurt you more than you could express in words. Seeing your son, have to hold his tears when someone asked where his father was. Your heart wailed in pain as the memories that you and Jinwoo had together before his departure.

Suho blinked his eyes, blurring you and everything for a moment. Suho wanted nothing more than to see his father in person. The photos that lined the tv stand, or that sat in the hallway didn’t do the justice he thought it would have. It didn’t give him a glimpse as to what his father was like. He loved that you did your best to tell him about his father, but not being able to be held by him made him realize he was missing his father’s warmth. 

Opening your mouth, you go to comfort your son, but a familiar feeling fills your chest. The warmth that you had been missing for the last 15 years of yours and your son's life. The warmth that melted the coldness that had once filled your heart. The warmth that made your heart soar and sing. Turning around, you’re met with a sight that nearly brought you to your knees. Your husband, clothed in tattered clothing, blood soaked and worn from the fight, stood in front of you and your son, his eyes shining with unshed tears, a smile that could rival even the sun. Your son moved faster than you and rushed to his father, slamming himself into Jinwoo’s chest, sobbing as his father was finally home. 

Suho’s hands gripped his father’s shirt tightly, refusing to let go. The fear that he could disappear before his eyes squeezed his heart. Jinwoo held him just as tightly, his muscles tense with how tightly he was holding his son. “Oh my son, how I have longed to see you. You have grown into such a handsome young man.” Jinwoo refused to let his son go. He couldn’t, not when he had missed 15 years of his son's life for a stupid mission. Suho buried his face in his fathers chest, taking in his warmth, the way it felt like a massive blanket covered him. “I have missed you so father.” Suho whispered, before moving away from his father, turning to you, a gentle smile on your lips as you watched their interaction. 

Stepping to the side, Suho smiled at you before going back to his room to give you and Jinwoo some time, a smile on his face and warmth that spread through his body. He could finally tell those who had bullied him for not having a dad, that his dad had finally returned from the raid he had been tasked to 15 years ago. 

Stepping forward, your hands drifted to his face, cupping his jaw and watching as he melted into your touch. His eyes softening even more; his body heaving a sigh as he finally was back in your arms. Your hands moved away from his jaw but your fingers danced across his face, memorizing the planes of his face, mapping out the lines of his cheekbones. His hands drifted to your waist, his thumbs rubbing your hips, comforting you as your tears finally fell down your face. Your lips trembled as a smile graced your face. You blinked softly before pulling Jinwoo closer, your lips brushing against his. 

The feeling of his body pressed against yours erased any doubt you had. His fingers brushed against yours as he intertwined his fingers with your. Leaning down, Jinwoo pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and basking in the warmth you radiated. “This is why you’re the most important thing to me. The warmth you give, the smiles that radiate the sun, the laughter that fills the room, I missed it all. Those years spent in a cave with bloodthirsty beast were torture because I couldn’t be with you. I couldn’t be with my son.” Jinwoo wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to his chest. 

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his, your body craving his warmth after being away from him for so long. The feeling of being in your husband's arms after 15 years made fresh tears fall down your face. Pulling away from the kiss, Jinwoo smiled so gently at you that your heart almost beat out of your chest with how hard it was pounding. “I love you.” He whispered, his lips brushing against yours. Your heart soared as a smile appeared on your lips. “I love you too.” You whispered, watching Jinwoo’s smile grow bigger. Your little family, after 15 years, is now complete. With your husband home and your son smiling again, the home that had lacked warmth for so long, was once again filled with a familiar warmth.

[ateliersss]

TOP GUN #2

…is part of The Bookshelf.

⇨ This is a collection of my favorite fanfics/oneshots on Tumblr I love to re-read once in a while. None of those works belong to me! Feel free to use it as well.

⇨ My own works are here

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Left at the Altar Summary: When you get left at the altar, a familiar face swoops in to save the day.

Can't Let You Go Summary: When you and Jake broke up, it hurt both of you more than you could handle. Now, after three months of barely seeing or speaking to one another, Jake walks in on the surprise of seeing you in a wedding dress, and it brings past memories and ruined dreams to the surface.

Wanting It All Summary: Hangman ends up in the hospital from a very similar Phoenix/Bob/birds situation, and you suddenly regret keeping a big secret from him.  

Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts Summary: You and Jake had a history of flirting and occasionally kissing if too much time was spent at the bar, but it never went any further than that. One night, after showing up at your house and passing out on your couch, Jake wakes up the next morning only to learn he had drunkenly confessed his feelings for you.

Less Misery, More Company Summary: Jake has feelings for you but you don’t believe it, so you play a little trick to get back at him for all of his flirtatious teasing. But that little trick fails miserably, and as the weight of your mistake settles in, you realize you owe him an explanation, one that requires you to admit some things you’ve long denied.

Scrapes and Bruises Summary: Basically, Rooster is not thrilled about your relationship with Hangman, and their issues with one another bring up some fears of your own.

Good in Bed Summary: Jake has made it crystal clear to you that you're only friends with benefits, so why did he go and delete your dating apps?

Cross Summary: The four times you captured Jake Seresin’s attention and the one time he did something about it.

There's a Honey Summary: 3 times your aunt penny sees herself and maverick in your relationship with jake and 1 time she doesn’t.

So Funny Story (I'm Fucking Your Daughter) Summary: You've had a thing with Jake for a while now. The thing is, your dad doesn't know and your brother is desperate for you to tell him.

All You Had To Do Was Stay Summary: Six years ago Jake hit your life like a hurricane. In and out in a matter of weeks. You thought after you get over the disappointment of him leaving without saying a word you’d never think of him again. But then two pink lines change your life forever. Now he’s back and still has no idea that the little girl by your side is his daughter.

Revelation

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Three Generations Summary: Rooster is married. Maverick found out when the paperwork got filed with the Navy, but he doesn’t have a chance to ask Rooster about it until after the mission

Endings and Beginnings Part 1, Part 2 Summary: It's Maverick's retirement party but Rooster's far more concerned about you, his pregnant wife, than anything else.

Wrong Number Summary: Bradley was planning on a quiet night at home with a beer and a basketball game on TV. When he receives a text from a wrong number, he's left looking at a beautiful photo of you. Now he just needs to persuade you to ditch the guy you meant to text and focus on him instead.

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Only Love Can Hurt Like This Summary: Bob lost his fiancé in a dog fight and goes through the grieving process. Eventually he learns to move on but then everything he thought he knew was a lie, including the fact that Y/N had died on that mission.

All Fun & Games Summary: Returning to San Diego was just another assignment for you. Another step in the career path, full steam ahead, until you come to an obstacle in the road. Usually, you’d navigate around it, keep on going, but this is no normal obstacle. It might be enough to reroute you completely.

Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

Part of Three Summary: Reader is Maverick's sister, dating Iceman, and finds out she's pregnant.

Scared Summary: A fight between you and your fiancé spirals out of control.

Get Your Girl

Tom Is Finer

[brklynbxby]

Jonas reached into his chest pocket, his fingers brushing the cool fabric of his handkerchief before he pulled it free with a steady hand. He then extended his arm toward Harmony, offering the soft cloth to her. “Here,” he said, his voice carrying a subtle warmth that contrasted with the quiet weight of the moment. “You might want this,” his tone almost a whisper. He watched her for a moment, his gaze unwavering but tender. “I can tell you love him,” his words soft and filled with understanding. He gave a small nod, his features softening with the kind of quiet wisdom born of years lived and lessons learned. “The way you sat in there, taking everything thrown your way... that’s brave. And you did all of that for my son.” His eyes, though compassionate, held a mix of empathy and quiet respect for the courage she’d shown too. Though Jonas couldn’t say he agreed with all of her choices, he wasn’t the kind of man to hold onto grievances. He understood too well that life wasn’t black and white, that people made mistakes, and sometimes those mistakes were a part of their journey, not the end of it. Of course, there were things that had caused him to doubt, things he couldn’t simply overlook. But he wasn’t going to cast her aside. His son had made his choice, and as much as Jonas may have questioned it, he would stand by him, just as he always had. “Whatever has happened, whatever comes next… he’s his own person,” Jonas said, his voice steady, like a quiet promise. “And I’ll stand by him, even if it’s not what I would’ve chosen. You see, that’s what being family means. We support each other, even when it’s hard.”

Jonas listened intently, his focus unwavering as he absorbed every word she spoke. He wasn’t like Clara, who often seemed more absorbed in her own thoughts than the person speaking to her. Jonas was different—when he asked a question, it wasn’t just for show. He genuinely wanted to understand. He nodded thoughtfully as Harmony spoke, his gaze softening as she described what she would say to her younger self. He could see the sincerity in her eyes, how her entire demeanour shifted when speaking of his son. It was clear, even without her saying it directly: Nate was her anchor, the person who kept her grounded. And Jonas wasn’t about to be the one to make this any harder for them. He nodded again, a knowing look in his eyes as she mentioned the mistakes of her past. It wasn���t lost on him. But when she admitted she couldn’t change them, he didn’t argue. None of them could rewrite the past. What mattered now was how they moved forward, and if Nate was willing to try again, Jonas would stand by that decision.

As she continued speaking, he found his heart swelling with a quiet warmth. The way she spoke about him, with such genuine respect, touched him more deeply than he expected. Jonas felt a quiet sense of responsibility tug at him. He wanted to be the one to show her that, despite the rough edges of their family dynamic, they would welcome her in. “Harmony, my dear,” he said softly, stepping closer with a small chuckle. “Please, call me Jonas. ‘Sir’ sounds too formal for what we’re about to be.” His voice was warm, with no trace of judgement. Without a second thought, he gently pulled her into a hug, his arms enveloping her in a moment of quiet comfort. After a moment, he pulled back slightly, but kept his hands on her shoulders, holding her steady. “You’re family now, okay? You and this little one. My wife… she’s difficult, but she’ll come around. Just hold on, alright?” He gave her a soft, reassuring squeeze before letting go and offering a wry smile. “Oh, and has Nate told you how big our family is yet?” he added with a knowing grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “It’s... a lot. But you’ll fit right in.”

Harmony stood there, her body trembling, her heart beating erratically in her chest. She had been so lost in her thoughts, so overcome with doubt and fear, but when she heard his voice, everything else faded into the background. His presence was grounding, steadying her in a way she hadn’t expected. She slowly opened her eyes, trying to focus, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside her. Jonas’ words were like a balm, softening the jagged edges of her panic, giving her space to breathe again. His gaze was so kind, so gentle, that for a moment, she thought she might break into a thousand pieces. But instead, she stood still, her heart heavy, her throat tight. She couldn’t speak for a long moment, not because she didn’t want to, but because she was still trying to process everything, trying to make sense of his words.

Finally, she found her voice. Quiet at first, unsure, but it grew stronger as she spoke from the heart. “I… I never stopped loving him,” she whispered, the words shaky, but undeniable. “Never. And I will never stop loving him.” Her tears started to fall again, but this time, they weren’t the desperate, painful tears from before. They were soft, full of emotion, of truth. There was no doubting her love for Nate, no hiding from it anymore. It was a part of her, woven into her soul, and it always would be. When he asked what she would say to her younger self, Harmony pushed herself off the wall, standing up straighter. She wiped her eyes, her voice steadying as she spoke, her gaze locking with his. “I would tell her that she needs to hold on just a little longer... because the love of her life, the father of her child, isn’t so far away,” she began, each word carefully chosen, each sentence weighted with the depth of her feelings. “I would tell her that she deserved real love. A love so deep, no one would understand it but her and him. I would tell her that he is all she ever wanted and needed, and that she has to start changing her life now.”

More tears rolled down her cheek, but there was no sadness in them now. Only the truth of the love she felt, the love that had shaped her life. “I know I’ve made mistakes,” she added softly, the weight of her past still lingering. “But I can’t undo what’s happened. All I can do is love him the best I can. And I promise you, sir, I will. I will love him with everything I have.” Her voice wavered slightly, but her words were resolute, like a vow she would never break. “Nate is all I have ever dreamed of. And I want to raise our son the way he deserves to be raised—like his father, with a big heart, a heart that doesn’t stop loving, even after everything.” She took a shaky breath, but there was something in her heart that was more certain than ever before. She might have questioned herself for a moment, but not anymore. She knew what she wanted, what she needed—Nate, and the life they were building together. And that was enough. That was everything.

[castiwls]

you're losing me

Paring; dean, sam & sister!reader

Prompt; 'I can't find a pulse. My heart won't start anymore'

Requested; anon

Notes; taylor prompts are back as well as short & sweet and eternal sunshine !!!

Tw; mentions of blood and potential death (not in depth but still just beware if these are iffy topics for you)

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

In a way, you always knew it would end this way - bloody and most likely alone. Vampires had always by far been your least favorite thing. Ever since you were a child, the idea alone that they were real, of all things, left you shaking under the covers of some dingy motel while Dean tried to reassure you that they would never hurt you. He’d never let them.

Yet, Dean had lied. Not on purpose, never on purpose. It had been a mistake, a mishap. You should have been safe in the car, playing lookout. The vampires had no reason to know you were there, your brothers had done most of the hard work while you had simply interviewed and researched.

Yet somehow you’d found yourself face to face with one of them. It had growled something about you being “revenge for killing my sister.” Before the thing had lunged. Even with all your years of training you’d not been able to get it off you before it had made the first swing.

Maybe if it had been quick, you would have been more okay with it, but the vamp hadn’t even killed you, it had just left a wound deep enough you’d bleed out before your brothers realised.

Except that Sam had noticed the missing vampire. He’d noticed the moment they’d got them ‘all’.

“One’s missing.” He’d counted again. Four. There had been five, he was sure. “Dean, there were five. I remember seeing five after the girl had been killed.”

Dean frowned. “Well, maybe you miscounted-”

A scream echoed through the quiet barn. Both brothers felt their blood run cold. “It can’t be-” Sam shook his head, looking to his brother with horror, but Dean was already gone, yelling your name as he ran faster than he’d known he could.

His lungs burned when the car finally came into view, the vampire nowhere to be seen. He yelled for you again, his frustration only growing at the lack of reply until he saw it. The smallest flash of red.

Blood.

“No. No. No. No.” The blood seemed to rush to his head as his world spun for a minute. Not you. Not his sister. 

He barely registered Sam’s own panicked yells as he appeared, rounding the car. His world almost stopped spinning for a moment. “Dean, her pulse, I-i can’t find it.”

“We need to get to a hospital. Now.”

---------

“Dean, can you please sit down? Pacing isn’t gonna make things speed up.”

It had only been an hour since you’d been taken to surgery. “It's low, but she could live.” The doctor had mumbled before disappearing through the doors. Could live. You could live, or they could lose you.

“Dean, please!” Sam finally picked his head up, looking at his brother with thinly veiled frustration. “How do you expect me to sit down when she's in…in their!” Dean snapped, gesturing to the doors. 

He finally sat down, pressing a hand to his head. He took a breath and tried to push down the rage he could feel bubbling at the surface. You were hurt because of him, because he hadn’t done his job properly and made sure you were out of the way.

“She hated vamps, Sammy.” He murmured, his fist pushed to his chin. “She hated’em, and I made her come. I made her come-”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah! Well, it sure feels like it!”

“Dean-”

“Winchester?” The doctor's voice had Dean shooting from his chair; whatever his brother was saying fell on deaf ears. 

“She’s damn lucky. We stabilised her, but she's weak, very weak.”

It was barely a minute later when your room door burst open, and Sam and Dean were crowding your bed. You swore for a moment Dean was on the verge of tears as he ran a hand over your head, Sam’s hand squeezing your own as you offered them a weak smile.

“I’m never going on a vampire hunt again….I mean it.”

They were both quiet for a moment, almost as if trying to take in the fact that you were actually okay before falling into quiet laughter at your comment. “Never again. I’m never letting you anywhere near a nest again.” Dean murmured, finally feeling his lungs fill with air for the first time since he’d seen the blood.

Maybe for once, god was on your side. For once the world wasn’t trying to fuck the Winchesters over.

[heliosunny]

I read the yandere! Streamer jing yuan and saw there's a yandere! Streamer Sunday.. was wondering if you would do a yandere! Streamer Aventurine, too please?

Yandere!Streamer Aventurine x Reader

Aventurine was obsessed. Not just with the game, Eclipsed Fates: Arcane Romance, but specifically with you.

And as a high-profile streamer, he made no secret of it.

"Alright, chat, you already know the drill." His voice oozed confidence as he lounged in his high-end gaming chair, adjusting his headset. "Tonight, we're doing another playthrough of Y/N’s route. Yeah, yeah, I know I’ve already maxed out their affection a dozen times, but let me have this. They’re the only one worthy of my time, after all."

The chat exploded.

"Bro is down BAD." "Another [Y/N] simp stream, let's gooo." "At this point, just marry your screen."

He smirked, barely glancing at the comments. His fingers danced across the keyboard as he navigated the dialogue choices, always picking the options that would make you smile—or, at the very least, smirk approvingly.

"This is it, chat. My favorite part. The moment Y/N finally acknowledges that they’re mine."

And then—

A flicker of the screen.

Aventurine barely had time to react before his entire setup exploded in a burst of light.

When he opened his eyes, sitting across from him, staring in confusion, was—

You.

Aventurine was used to getting what he wanted.

So when he found himself inside the game world, in a lavish office lined with scrolls and golden embellishments, draped in the elegant robes of a high-ranking noble… well.

This was even better.

"Marquis Aventurine, are you feeling unwell?"

He let out a breathless chuckle, rolling his gloved fingers against the polished surface of his desk. "Marquis, huh?" His gaze flicked over the surroundings, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. "So that's the role I've been given."

He tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "And what is our relationship, exactly?"

Your eyes narrowed. "You don’t remember?"

You exhaled, rubbing your temple, frustration bleeding into your otherwise composed features. "You oversee imperial intelligence. I report directly to you."

"I see. And tell me— Do you admire me?"

Your brows knit together. "Respect and admiration are not the same thing, my lord."

So even here, even when he outranked you, you still had that pride.

"You really haven’t changed at all." he murmured, mostly to himself.

"What?"

"Nothing." His grin was dazzling. "Let’s get along from now on, shall we?"

Aventurine was a fast learner.

It was a necessity in his line of work—reading opponents, analyzing patterns, knowing exactly what buttons to push to get what he wanted.

But today?

Today was an absolute disaster.

His first mistake? Assuming he could navigate the world like a normal person.

After your meeting in his grand office, he had confidently strolled out, intending to get a feel for the empire. He had expected the typical game mechanics—click on NPCs, gather intel, maybe a quest or two.

Instead, the entire day glitched past him in a blur.

One second, he was observing the bustling courtyards, taking in the regal architecture—

The next?

It was nighttime.

Aventurine stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the dark sky, his breath catching slightly. What? He swore he had only blinked. The sun had been right there.

The palace halls, once lively with officials and servants, were now eerily quiet. And worse—

He was no longer in the palace.

The dim glow of lanterns flickered around him, the scent of expensive liquor and the soft shuffle of cards filling the air. He was inside a hidden gambling den, tucked away in what was likely the empire’s underground elite circles.

What the hell?

There was no logical transition. No sense of time passing. It was as if the game had just… skipped ahead.

Was this a bug? A glitch in the system?

"Well… this is interesting."

Still, if the game had dropped him here, there had to be a reason.

He adjusted the elegant cuffs of his robe, taking in the lavish surroundings. Wealthy nobles and shadowy figures whispered behind ivory masks, placing bets in hushed tones. Gambling, huh?

If he wanted to understand his new identity, he needed information.

Aventurine stepped into a quieter corner and whispered:

"System, show character profile."

[Character Profile: Aventurine] Title: Imperial Spymaster | Noble of High Status Skills: Espionage | Strategy | Deception | High-Stakes Gambling (???) Reputation: Unpredictable | Charismatic | ??? Relationships: — [Y/N]: Imperial Strategist (Loyalty: 70, Favorability: ???) — Emperor: Trusted (Barely) — Nobles: Feared & Respected — Underground Circles: VIP Access

Aventurine’s gaze sharpened.

The gambling skill. The VIP access. The way he had been teleported here. Was this something his character did every night? Some hidden mechanic the players never had access to?

And—wait.

[Y/N]: Loyalty 70, Favorability: ???

"Question marks?" Aventurine narrowed his eyes. Favorability should have been a number. It was a trackable stat in the game. But here? It was unreadable.

If the system wouldn’t give him a number, he’d just have to measure it himself.

The system was glitchy. The world wasn’t following normal rules. And his role was clearly more complex than he had anticipated.

But none of that mattered.

Because at the end of the day, this was still his game.

Aventurine had seen countless playthroughs of your character’s story. The brilliant strategist. The one who climbed to power with nothing but sheer intelligence and determination. The one who stood among nobles despite coming from a civilian background.

It was one of the things that fascinated him about you.

So when he saw you surrounded by sneering nobles in the palace courtyard, your jaw set with defiance despite their mocking words—

Oh, he did not like that.

"You really think you belong here?" A young nobleman scoffed, flicking his fan open with a dramatic flair. "You may be the empire’s strategist, but that doesn’t change what you are."

"Indeed. No amount of clever words can change your birthright, can it?"

Their words were sharp, but you stood your ground. You always did.

"If birth determined one’s worth, then surely you wouldn’t need to insult me to feel superior."

"You should watch that tongue of yours, commoner. It would be unfortunate if someone decided they didn’t like your presence in the court."

Before they could take another step—

A hand landed on the noble’s shoulder.

"Oh? That’s quite the statement. I’d love to hear what gives you the right to decide who belongs here."

"M-Marquis—"

"That’s Lord Aventurine to you," he corrected, "And, as far as I recall, our dear strategist holds one of the highest positions in the empire. Are you suggesting the emperor himself made a mistake in appointing them?"

The nobles exchanged uneasy glances.

Aventurine chuckled, finally releasing his grip. "Ah, but perhaps I misheard. Surely, you wouldn’t be so foolish as to question imperial authority, hmm?"

"O-Of course not, my lord."

"Good. Then I suggest you walk away. Before I decide to start questioning your worth."

They scrambled to leave, their arrogance crumbling in an instant.

Aventurine turned to you, amusement dancing in his gaze.

"That was unnecessary."

He tilted his head. "Was it? I rather enjoyed it."

"I didn’t need your help."

"I know. But it was fun, wasn’t it? Watching them squirm?"

"You enjoy playing with people, don’t you?"

"Only when they’re unworthy."

----

Aventurine was used to being adored.

His viewers, his chat, the characters in the game—he had always known how to manipulate favorability. Charm was second nature to him.

So when he checked his system later that night and saw—

[Favorability Update: -5]

—he nearly dropped his glass of wine.

"Minus?"

Aventurine scoffed, setting the glass down with a sharp clink against the desk. His eyes narrowed at the glowing screen, as if sheer force of will could make the number go back up.

"This is ridiculous. I defended them. Put those arrogant nobles in their place. That should’ve gained me points, not lost them."

What went wrong?

Aventurine sighed, leaning back in his chair. It was late. The oil lamp flickered beside him, casting warm shadows against the towering bookshelves of his study. He had been trying to piece together the logic of this world, but his thoughts kept circling back to you.

What do I need to do to make you mine?

The exhaustion of the day crept up on him, and before he realized it—his eyes shut.

You weren’t expecting him to be asleep.

When you stepped into his study, documents in hand, you had fully anticipated the usual: a smug remark, a lazy smirk, some infuriatingly smooth comment meant to test your patience.

Instead, you found him slumped over his desk, deep in sleep.

For a moment, you hesitated.

This was Marquis Aventurine. The man with the sharpest tongue in the court. The one who was unpredictable, charming, and entirely too pleased with himself.

But right now, the soft glow of the oil lamp made his features appear less sharp, more peaceful. His hand was still lightly curled around a quill, as if he had dozed off mid-thought.

It would be very easy to just leave him like this.

And yet— Before you could talk yourself out of it, you moved closer, carefully draping a thick blanket over his shoulders.

He barely stirred, only shifting slightly at the warmth.

---

Aventurine woke up feeling… different.

His brows furrowed slightly as he blinked away sleep. His study was still dimly lit, the documents still scattered on his desk. But something was different.

A blanket. Draped over him.

"So that’s how it is?"

With a lazy flick of his wrist, he called the system.

[Favorability Update: ???]

His smirk faltered.

Still unreadable.

"Am I… actually losing control?"

----

Aventurine had always been confident in his skills, after a few nights in the hidden gambling den, he realized something astonishing.

His luck was beyond anything human.

He didn’t just win. He always won.

Cards, dice, roulette—every game played into his hands like fate itself bent to his will. Even in situations where probability should have turned against him, he somehow walked away with everything.

Was this part of his character’s hidden abilities? A built-in advantage coded into the game? Or was it simply him—a streamer from another world—breaking the system?

Either way, he wasn’t about to waste it.

He started frequenting the den, not just for the thrill, but for information.

He had learned that in this world, gambling wasn’t just about money. It was power, influence, and secrets—things that he could use to his advantage.

Suddenly, you showed up.

Aventurine had been enjoying a quiet evening, leisurely flipping a gold coin between his fingers when he spotted you entering the den.

Well, well.

And here I thought they hated places like this.

His curiosity piqued, he smoothly stood and followed behind.

You seemed tense, scanning the tables until your eyes landed on a young man seated among a pile of scattered bets.

"Xevian." you said firmly.

The man—Xevian—stiffened before forcing a laugh. "Ah, Y/N! Didn’t expect to see you here."

Aventurine leaned against a nearby pillar, arms crossed, watching the exchange unfold.

"I need to talk to you," you continued. "Your father—he’s worried sick. You need to stop this before it’s too late."

At the mention of his father, Xevian’s face twisted. "No. You don’t understand. I just need one more round. Just one more win, and I can—"

"You said that last time," you interrupted, "How much have you lost, Xevian? How much more before you realize this isn’t the answer?"

Aventurine smirked, already seeing where this was going.

"You wouldn’t get it! You didn’t grow up in my position!"

Finally, you exhaled, your shoulders dropping slightly. "I just… I don’t want to see you ruin yourself."

For a moment, it seemed like Xevian might listen. That maybe, just maybe, your words had reached him.

The dealer called out the next round, and Xevian turned away, throwing himself back into the game without hesitation.

You stared at him, something dimming in your expression.

Then, without another word, you walked away.

Aventurine pushed off the pillar, smoothly falling into step beside you as you left the den.

"That was quite the show," he mused, "Didn’t expect you to be the type to chase after reckless gamblers."

"He’s not just any gambler. His father—Sir Edric—saved my life once. I owe him."

Aventurine hummed. "And yet, your dear Xevian doesn’t seem very… receptive."

Your expression darkened slightly, but you said nothing.

He grinned. "So, what’s your next move?"

"There isn’t one," you muttered. "I can’t force him to listen."

Aventurine stopped walking. "Then let me handle it."

"You?"

"Oh, come now. Surely you’ve noticed by now—I never lose."

"And you think gambling will fix this?"

"Not just gambling," he corrected. "Winning. If I take away everything he has, force him to face the reality of his losses, maybe he’ll start listening to you."

"I don’t trust gamblers"

Aventurine chuckled. "Good. I’d be disappointed if you did." Then, his voice softened, "But this time, Y/N… just this once, trust me."

You stared at him, conflict warring in your gaze.

"Fine. Just this once."

----

Aventurine had always known that the most effective lessons were the ones people felt in their bones.

Xevian wouldn’t listen to words. He needed to experience ruin.

So, Aventurine set the stage.

Getting Xevian to play was easy. All it took was a few well-placed words, the right amount of condescension, and a slight push to his pride.

“You’re good? Prove it.”

The young noble fell for it instantly.

They played a high-stakes game of chance, and as expected—Aventurine didn’t lose a single round.

It didn’t take long before Xevian had wagered everything—his money, his heirloom ring, and even the deed to his estate.

Then came the final blow.

"Ah, how unfortunate." Aventurine leaned back with a smirk, examining the losing dice roll like it was the most natural outcome in the world. "Looks like you’re completely bankrupt."

Xevian paled. "No… I-I just need another chance—"

"No second chances," Aventurine interrupted smoothly, gesturing to the guards standing nearby. "Take him."

The moment Xevian opened his mouth to protest, a cloth was shoved over his eyes. Blindfolded, restrained, and utterly powerless, he was dragged away as the murmurs of the crowd filled his ears.

He was about to learn.

Xevian woke up in chains. Around him, he heard voices—slaves whispering about their fate. About being sold to a distant land where no one would ever find them.

The guards, the merchants, the fake "buyers"—all actors, expertly placed to terrify Xevian into believing he had truly lost everything.

For a week, he was forced to work relentlessly—hauling crates, enduring harsh orders, sleeping on the cold ground with nothing but scraps of food.

Every attempt to bargain or beg was ignored.

Every night, he was left to wonder if this was truly the end of his privileged life.

And just when his hope was completely shattered—

The illusion ended.

The chains were removed.

And Xevian was told—

"Go home."

Xevian returned as a different man.

The arrogance in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a haunted, broken look. He avoided gambling dens, refused to touch dice, and listened to his father for once in his life.

At first, you thought he had simply learned his lesson after losing everything.

It wasn’t just regret. It was fear. And when you pressed him for answers, he refused to speak.

There was only one person who could be responsible for this.

You found Aventurine exactly where you expected—lounging in his study, idly flipping a gold coin between his fingers.

"Ah, Y/N," he drawled, lazily resting his chin on his hand. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What did you do to Xevian?"

"Why, whatever do you mean? I simply helped a lost soul find enlightenment."

"That’s not an answer."

He tapped the coin against the desk. "Xevian has changed for the better, hasn’t he? Shouldn’t you be thanking me?"

"He looks traumatized."

"Lesson learned, then."

"...You planned this from the start, didn’t you?"

"Of course, I told you, didn’t I? I never lose."

Aventurine expected a reward.

A smile. A small thank-you. Maybe even a slight increase in favorability.

[-10 Favorability]

The invisible notification might as well have been a knife to the chest.

Wait. What did I do wrong?

Why—

Why were you looking at him like that?

Why did you turn away without a word and leave him standing there?

You threw yourself into work, hoping to drown out your thoughts about Aventurine. But just as you were finishing up your tasks, a messenger arrived.

"Sir Edric wishes to see you."

You sighed. You already knew what this was about.

At his estate, Edric greeted you with a warm smile, placing a firm hand on your shoulder.

"You did well," he said. "Xevian has finally come to his senses. I don’t know what you said to him, but I cannot thank you enough."

This wasn’t your doing.

It was Aventurine’s.

Still, you didn’t argue.

"You’ve done so much for my family" he said. "And you know, you’re at the right age to start thinking about your own future."

"…What do you mean by that?"

The older man chuckled. "I’ve arranged a meeting for you. He’s a fine man from a good family—"

Your mind went blank for a second.

"I appreciate your concern," you said carefully. "But I don’t—"

"It’s just a meeting," Edric interrupted kindly. "No pressure. Just think about it, alright?"

-----

Dressed appropriately but keeping your expectations low, you made your way toward the arranged meeting place.

Aventurine, who had been brooding about his plummeting favorability, had just stepped out into the city when he spotted you from afar.

His irritation vanished instantly.

His keen gaze followed your every step.

Then, as if fate were mocking him, a group of overly enthusiastic noble ladies flocked around him.

"Aventurine, darling! You must see these silks—"

"Marquis Aventurine, try this perfume—"

"Oh! You must buy something for your sweetheart, yes?"

His eye twitched.

Not now.

Trying not to physically push them aside, he plastered on his usual charming smile while mentally tracking your direction.

Where are they headed?

Then, you walked into a fancy restaurant.

Aventurine's expression darkened slightly.

…Wait. That’s a place for…

No.

No, no, no.

That wasn’t—

That couldn’t be—

And just like that, Aventurine abandoned the noble ladies, his mind racing with a single, burning question:

Who the hell are they meeting?

Aventurine had always been a man who calculated risks before making his move.

But right now?

He was making a very impulsive decision.

Standing at the entrance of the fancy restaurant, he scanned the room—and the moment he spotted you, smiling and laughing with another man, something in his chest twisted.

That should be him.

He didn’t even think.

The next thing he knew, a waiter was knocked out cold in the back room, hidden behind stacked crates. Aventurine smoothly adjusted the stolen uniform, fixing the cuffs, then grabbed a tray and walked back out as if nothing happened.

Now, he was close enough to hear your conversation.

And he hated every second of it.

what was his name? Who cared?—said something charming.

Aventurine kept his expression neutral, even as he seethed internally.

If there was one thing Aventurine excelled at, it was rigging the game.

A slip of a harmless yet effective powder into the man’s drink as he turned to call the waiter.

He watched as your date took a few sips, continued the conversation for a few minutes… then suddenly stood up abruptly, his face paling.

"Pardon me, I— I need to step out for a moment" he said hurriedly.

He barely made it to the restroom.

Aventurine smirked.

Perfect. Now, it was his turn.

You blinked in surprise when Aventurine suddenly slid into the seat across from you.

"What are you doing here?"

"What a coincidence, isn’t it? I happened to be in the area."

"In a waiter’s uniform?"

"Exploring new experiences, of course. One must always broaden their horizons."

"You know," he murmured, "you have something here."

Before you could react, his fingers brushed against the corner of your lips, swiping away a bit of cream from your dessert.

Your heart skipped a beat.

He examined the cream on his fingertip, then—without breaking eye contact—he licked it off.

"A shame," he mused, as if nothing had happened. "Would’ve been a waste to let it go uneaten."

You quickly cleared your throat, looking away. "That was unnecessary."

-----

You were going about your day as usual, completely unaware of the chaos happening just a few streets away.

While you were organizing documents, checking over supplies, or perhaps handling some errands—

Aventurine was handling something else entirely.

A shadow slithered across the rooftops.

They were careful, precise, a professional through and through.

Too bad they didn’t account for Aventurine’s presence.

Bang.

A bullet tore through their leg, sending them crashing down onto the cobblestone streets below.

Aventurine sighed, casually stepping onto the edge of the rooftop, looking down at the writhing figure.

"Sloppy" he mused, twirling his gun before tucking it away. "Who sent you?"

The assassin gritted their teeth, refusing to speak.

"That’s fine. I don’t actually care."

Then, with zero hesitation, he kicked them off the ledge—right into the waiting arms of the city guards he had bribed earlier.

"Take this one to jail," he instructed, dusting off his gloves. "Tell them I’ll send more soon."

By morning, another poor soul found themselves bound and gagged, being dragged into a dark prison cell.

The guards stationed there were already used to this.

"Another one?" One of them raised a brow as Aventurine strolled in, utterly unbothered, while the latest fool thrashed helplessly on the ground.

"You should really tighten security" Aventurine sighed dramatically. "I mean, how do these idiots keep sneaking in? It’s getting embarrassing."

The guard merely shook his head. "We’ll handle it."

Late afternoon.

While you were focused on work, Aventurine was beating the living daylights out of yet another group of thugs.

"Try harder" he mocked as he sidestepped an incoming dagger, grabbing the attacker’s wrist and twisting it until they screamed.

"Pathetic" Aventurine muttered, adjusting his sleeves. "You came all this way, and this is the best you can do?"

One of the injured men shakily pulled out a contract from his pocket, barely able to breathe.

Aventurine plucked it from his trembling fingers, skimming over the details.

"P-Please, I was just following orders—!"

"Tell your employers," he murmured, "that if they try this again…"

"I’ll start playing dirty."

The thug nodded frantically, his body shaking.

By the third day, He finished handling any threats that dare to approach you.

Aventurine dusted off his hands, satisfied.

Finally, peace and quiet.

Now, he could turn his attention back to you.

Aventurine was getting used to this world.

But this?

This was a whole new level of unexpected.

One moment, he was lounging in his study, pouring himself a glass of wine, flipping through reports on the people who had dared to go after you—

And the next—

He was somewhere else entirely.

The scent of warm bath oils lingered in the air.

Your room.

Aventurine blinked.

Then his eyes slowly trailed up— To you.

Standing at the doorway.

Fresh out of the bath.

Ah.…This was bad.

Your eyes widened in shock, "Aventurine." Your tone was deadly. "What. The. Hell. Are you doing in my room?"

Aventurine was a man of quick thinking.

He had seconds—no, milliseconds—to turn this situation in his favor.

So he did what he did best.

"Ah," he exhaled, "So this is what your private quarters look like. How cozy."

You grabbed the nearest object—a comb—and threw it at his head.

He caught it effortlessly, twirling it between his fingers before setting it down on your vanity with an amused chuckle.

"Relax," he said, tilting his head. "If I knew I’d be magically teleported here, I would’ve at least brought a gift."

You weren’t buying it.

"You’re trespassing," you hissed. "Explain. Now."

Aventurine sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "As much as I’d love to say I came here to steal a glance of you fresh out of the bath, I’m afraid the truth is far less scandalous."

"The glitch happened again," he said, "One second, I was in my study. The next, I was here."

You crossed your arms, still furious—but slightly less about to murder him.

Seeing the shift, Aventurine took a calculated risk.

He stepped closer.

You stiffened as he reached out—gently brushing a damp strand of hair from your face.

"If anything," he murmured, "you should be flattered."

Your eyes snapped up to his in disbelief.

"Flattered?"

"Think about it," he said, "Out of all the places in this world, the glitch sent me straight to you."

His fingers lingered for half a second longer before he finally pulled away.

"A sign, don’t you think?"

Your glare was unwavering.

"What glitch?" you demanded.

Aventurine opened his mouth to respond—

And then, before your very eyes, he vanished.

"Aventurine?"

The air where he once stood was empty.

Nothing.

Not even a trace.

The void swallowed him whole.

He barely had time to process what happened before a bright, mechanical ding echoed through the empty space.

A translucent screen popped up in front of him.

⚠ WARNING! ⚠

If Max Favorability is not reached in 3 days, the character "Aventurine" will be TERMINATED.

"Oh, come on."

If the system was going to pull this on him, then he needed to check his current favorability status.

With a flick of his wrist, another screen appeared.

[Character: Aventurine - Favorability Status]

Current Points: 55/100 Penalty Applied: -5 (Previous Incident) Recent Increase: +10 (??? Event in Room)

Aventurine whistled.

"Not bad" he mused, ignoring the penalty from earlier.

Still—55 wasn’t enough.

Not when his life was literally on the line.

He had three days to make you fall for him completely.

"Guess I’ll have to speed things up."

Day 1 - When the glitch spat him back into the world, he landed right in front of you again.

Instead of shock, your expression was pure suspicion.

"Alright," you crossed your arms. "Explain. Now."

Aventurine put on his most charming smile.

"It’s a bit complicated," he sighed, "but long story short? I need you to like me."

"Like you?"

"In the romantic sense" he clarified.

"Absolutely not."

"That’s fair! But hear me out—"

"You’ve already given me 55 favorability points without even trying," he pointed out. "Imagine how much more you’d give if I actually put in the effort."

With that, Operation: Win You Over began.

Step 1: Become the Perfect Gentleman

Aventurine pulled every trick in the book.

Carrying your things without being asked. "Wouldn’t want you to strain yourself, now would we?"

Guiding you by the waist through crowds. "Tsk, these people have no manners."

Holding out his hand. "Shall we?"

Flashing that charming, lazy smile every time you rolled your eyes.

You tried to ignore him.

You failed.

Your favorability rose by +5 that afternoon.

Step 2: Small but Thoughtful Gestures

A warm drink waiting for you on your desk. "Oh? You like it? What a coincidence—I guessed your favorite."

Fixing your cloak before you stepped outside. "Here—let me do it."

Sending a servant to make sure you ate. "Can’t have you collapsing on me, now can we?"

Your favorability ticked up another +5.

65/100. Not bad for Day 1.

Day 2 - Aventurine knew something very important about you.

You didn’t like being looked down on.

You hated being treated as lesser because of your civilian background.

So when he overheard some noble mocking you behind your back

Step 3: The Dramatic Rescue

"It’s funny, really. No matter how hard they try, people like them will never be one of us—"

"Is that so?"

"S-Sir Aventurine! I didn’t see you—"

"Clearly. And here I thought nobility required better manners."

"I wonder," he mused, "what would happen if I were to mention this little conversation to someone important?"

"Ah—w-we were just joking—"

"Oh, were you? Then laugh."

"Go on," Aventurine said, eyes gleaming. "If it’s so funny, why aren’t you laughing?"

The noble fled.

When you later heard what happened—

You were annoyed.

You didn’t need him to defend you.

But still…

Your favorability rose by +10.

75/100.

Day 3 - Aventurine had one day left. He needed something big.

Step 4: The Perfect Night

As the sun set, you received an invitation.

“Meet me at the garden. – Aventurine”

"What is he up to now?"

Still, curiosity won.

When you arrived—

The entire garden was transformed.

Hundreds of candles lined the pathways.

Soft, golden lights twinkled like stars above the fountain.

A table was set with fine silverware, exquisite dishes, and two glasses of wine.

Aventurine stood in the center—smirking, dressed in all black, looking effortlessly charming as always.

"Finally," he said, "I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come."

"What… is all this?"

Aventurine stepped closer, reaching for your hand.

"This," he murmured, "is my way of proving something."

"And what exactly are you proving?"

"That I can give you the world," he whispered. "All you have to do… is accept me."

+25

MAX FAVORABILITY REACHED

Just as your lips parted—

A pulse of glitching energy rippled through the garden, twisting the scenery like a shattered illusion.

Your vision blurred.

The soft candlelight, the warmth of Aventurine’s touch—everything shattered into fragments.

When the world stabilized, Aventurine found himself somewhere new.

A golden, endless space stretched before him. Floating panels flickered around him, displaying data, numbers, and system logs.

In front of him, a holographic screen appeared.

[Congratulations, Player Aventurine!]

As a reward, you may select ONE of the following options:

Complete Memory Reset – Your existence will be erased from Y/N’s mind. Start fresh.

Full Control – Modify Y/N’s personality, ensuring absolute devotion.

Selective Memory Erasure – Remove specific memories related to system mechanics.

Enhanced Influence – All interactions with Y/N will result in higher emotional impact.

He wanted you to love him naturally—to fall again and again, without ever knowing how much he had already twisted the game.

So, he tapped his selection.

(Y/N) will lose all memories related to system mechanics, favorability, and glitches.

A new message popped up.

Additional Effect: Your final interaction before memory reset will remain in their subconscious, leaving a lingering emotional attachment.

Perfect.

A soft breeze rustled through the garden. The scent of fresh roses filled the air.

You were still standing in front of Aventurine—but something felt… off.

Your head throbbed. A strange fog clouded your mind, like you had just forgotten something important.

"Well?" he prompted, "You never answered me."

You blinked again. "What?"

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"I proposed to you," he reminded. "And you still haven’t given me an answer."

Wait—he did?

Why couldn’t you remember?

You stared at him, feeling strangely flustered.

Aventurine only watched you with amused fascination.

You weren’t rejecting him immediately.

That meant his plan was already working.

To you, Aventurine was simply your persistent suitor—

One who had just proposed.

And now that he had reset the game, he was going to have so much fun toying with you.

After all—

He had all the time in the world.

[nymph-ette111]

Jeff with a S/O that genuinely thinks he hates her most the time? Like he’s just such an unaffectionate dick she feels like she’s almost in a one sided relationship, but he has no idea how to show her how much he loves and cared about his partner.

WARNINGS; TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL, JEFFREY WOODS HIMSELF IS A WARNING

AUTHOR'S NOTE; I really enjoyed writing this! @moldypeaching Incase you forgot about this request, terribly sorry for taking such a long time :')

- Your feelings are completely valid because the way this man perceives things and feels emotions genuinely needs to be studied.

- His feelings towards you are... complicated and I'm not sure how to describe it, it's not like he fucking hates your guts or something—if that were the case he wouldn't even consider a relationship with you— but it's so easy to mistake his way of showing love for the complete opposite. You're always paranoid, always doubting this man's intentions.

- The only kind of affection he's comfortable with is the sexual kind—he has no problem initiating heavy make-outs or rough sex, but the moment it’s something as simple as saying 'I love you' or innocently complimenting you without saying something out of pocket, he's rejecting it immediately.

- He’s convinced himself that you’re entirely dependent on him, that you can’t live without him. So, he feeds into his own delusions, using them as an excuse to treat you like shit without consequence. His thought process is 'She loves me too much to leave, so no matter what I do, she’ll always forgive me.’

- This of course leads to many, many arguments. Ones that hurt because Jeff hates a lot of things, and admitting he made a mistake is high on that list. If he's wrong, trust me, he's realized it a long time ago. He just doesn't want to back down and bruise his ego.

- Now I'm going to be a hypocrite and go against what I previously stated in another post about the jerk, most of these arguments have ended with break ups. Jeff is short-tempered—quick to blow up and end things in the heat of the moment. But he always comes back to you, almost desperate. If there was ever a time where you realized that Jeff actually gives a fuck, it's during those times.

- He comes back an absolute mess, probably drunk too. You take it upon yourself to take care of the man when he's in such state. That's when he actually apologizes for being an asshole. Drunk words are sober thoughts.

- What follows after is Jeff's attempts at being a better boyfriend but knowing him it would probably last a week before his old habits start to noticably seep in once again.

-There's really no way to fix this guy, he's messed up beyond repair. He really does love you he just can't show it. You have to be a master at romanticizing toxic relationships in order to continue dating this man.

[dailynnt]

ONE NIGHT AS THE PRICE OF A REQUEST

⋆˙⟡ Summary: You hate your neighbor Jungkook, but you have to ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend at a party to get rid of your annoying boss. He agrees, but you don't even imagine what you'll have to pay him with. Everything goes according to plan until Chunguk reveals his true price during the dance: one night with him or your life in the neighborhood will be hell.

⋆˙⟡ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

⋆˙⟡ Age restrictions: 18+

⋆˙⟡ Index of chapters: ≣

⋆˙⟡ Number of chapter: 7/?

⋆˙⟡ Tags: enemies-to-neighbors-to-lovers, fake relationship, hate to desire, dom!Jungkook, heated blackmail, one bed trope, undeniable chemistry, forced deal, mutual obsession, dangerous game, unexpected feelings, passion on edge, impossible to resist, tension and desire, unprotected sex, sexual tension

⋆˙⟡ From author: Hello my dear armies 💜 My birthday was so wonderful, I didn't even expect it! So many people congratulated me and I felt how much people love me and it's so nice 🤭🥰 I wanted to have time to publish a chapter on my birthday, but I didn't, because you know, I was distracted all the time! But I did it for you 💜🫶🏻 I decided to show some a little bit of Y/N's character and actually what the relationship is like between them now. They argue so much don't they? 😅 Anyway, let me know how you liked this chapter? You know how much I appreciate everyone who reads my stories! You make me happy every day! THANK YOU FOR THAT 💜🫶🏻🥺

⋆˙⟡ Dedication: to my biggest love @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko007, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle for loving me for nothing. I love you girls twice as much 🥺🤭💜🫶🏻

⋆˙⟡ Tag list: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko007, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle, @bhonbhon, @ottergirl, @vantelover1306, @deepikhaprakash, @mar-lo-pap, @zeytiable, @lallataegi, @vintagemoonsstuff, @indigomoonchild09, @diame93 (If you want to be on the tag list, let me know)

⋆˙⟡ Warning: English is not my native language, so please be lenient with mistakes in the text 🥹

Chapter 7. Time to start

The café was only half full, the perfect place to have a quiet conversation. You were sitting across from Jisu, stirring your long-cold coffee with a spoon. Three days had passed since the last article about you. No new headlines, no gossip. It couldn't have been a coincidence.

Jisu was flipping through her phone, she'd picked it up to see when the deadline was for a project you'd been working on together. But she seemed distracted, as her fingers scrolled through the page in her browser.

"Have you noticed that no articles have been written about you in the last three days?" Jisu took a sip of her matcha latte, not looking up from her phone. "I was getting used to the fact that every tab in my browser has your picture on it." 

You hummed, setting your cup down. You can guess who did this. You felt a little embarrassed at the mere mention of Jungkook, but you suppressed it with skill. You couldn't help but be happy that he had begun to fulfill his end of the bargain. 

"I noticed. I think it's Jungkook. He promised me he'd take care of it." 

Jisu nodded, her gaze lingering on your face.

"So you talked to him?" she asked, lowering her voice slightly so as not to sound too inquisitive. But you knew your friend very well. You were sure she was burning with curiosity. 

"Yes." you answered briefly, showing that you were not in the mood to talk about it. Besides, you have nothing to tell Jisu. You're not going to tell her that during that conversation you made a new agreement about a fake relationship and fucked after that. The memory of that night makes your stomach clench. 

"And what was his excuse about the fiancée?" Jisu continued to ask. Her eyes were burning. You knew you had to tell your friend something or she would go crazy. You looked away, telling her a half-truth.

"He said his parents were forcing him to get married. But he didn't want me to be nervous about it, so he didn't say anything about it." 

Both of you were silent. You listened to the noise of cars passing by the café. 

"So what's going on between you two now? Did you have a fight?" Jisu asked cautiously. 

You sighed slightly, noticing out of the corner of your eye that your friend was staring at you, waiting for an answer.

"No, we didn't fight," you answered, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible.

"But something's wrong," she said insistently, leaning slightly toward you. "You seem reluctant to talk about him."

You huffed a relaxed hum, grabbing for your cup even though you weren't going to drink anymore.

"I've never been one to talk about my personal stuff." 

"Y/N." Jisu folded her hands on the table and looked at you. "Are you really dating him, or is it something else?"

You froze for a split second, but quickly pulled yourself together.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know..." She frowned. "He came into your life so... suddenly. And now this whole fiancée thing." 

"Actually, he came into my life a long time ago," you countered, and it was the truth. You had met Jungkook even before you met Jisu. You just never thought you'd have to play the role of his girlfriend. And that you would have to introduced him with your coworkers. 

"We communicated for a long time, and then it turned into something more." you lied and barely stopped yourself from squirming. You weren't at all happy about being connected to Jungkook, and being connected to Jungkook, who was the heir to one of the most powerful companies in Korea, was even worse. 

Jisu studied you, as if trying to determine how true your words were.

"But the fact that he's the heir to the ‘Jeon Group’ doesn't scare you?"

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"Why would I be?"

Jisu shrugged, leaning back in her chair. 

"Because of his status. He is used to power and that the world belongs to him. He... seems a little dangerous to me." She paused, searching for words. "I can't explain it, but he has this... cold look. Like someone who's used to being in control." 

You laughed a little nervously. Jisu had definitely picked up on this striking character trait of Jungkook's. He really does want to be in control. 

"It's just his communication style." you defended him, even though you didn't mean to. 

"Maybe..." Jisu still had her doubts. "But are you sure you're okay?" 

You could feel her genuine concern and even felt a little touched. You weren't okay to be honest, but you had to reassure your friend. 

"Yes, I'm fine," you answered with a smile. Jisu clearly wanted to continue the conversation, but in the end, she didn't. 

"How's our project going? You said you needed to finalize the presentation?" you asked, quickly changing the topic of conversation. 

"Yeah, I'll need your help with the layout."

"Oh, I'd love to help," you smiled. 

Jisu pulled out her laptop, and you watched her open the file she needed. But you couldn't help but think about your dialog. 

Jisu doesn't like Jungkook. Hmm. You laughed inwardly. You wondered why she thought he was dangerous. He was nice and friendly at the corporate party. You remember Jisu smiling at him and speaking to him with respect, and now she's saying he's dangerous.

Maybe she's worried that he's just playing with you and will leave you? But you're not really dating, she shouldn't be worried about that...oh right, she doesn't know that. 

"Okay, here." Jisu turned her laptop toward you, opening the presentation. "I can't decide which background is better. This one or this one?" 

She showed you two slides: one with a dark background and white text, the other light with pastel accents.

"The dark one looks more stylish, but the light one is more readable," you leaned closer, evaluating the options.

"What a dilemma." Jisu bit her lip.

You discussed the layout some more, and managed to distract yourself. But somewhere in the back of your mind, the thought was still running through your mind: why did Jisu change her mind about Jungkook so much? Did she see something that you hadn't noticed?

"You're getting your head in the clouds again," Jisu noticed, folding her arms across her chest.

"I'm just thinking," you shook your head lightly, trying to get rid of the unwanted thoughts. Your phone alerted you to a new message. 

You saw Jungkook's name on the screen. Your pulse quickened. Now your reaction to him was like this all the time. And considering your last fight, you were nervous because you hadn't spoken in almost three days. Not a single text or call. You hadn't crossed paths at the house either. 

"I'm sorry, Jisu." you said, picking up your smartphone. She got up from her seat, not even looking upset.

"Oh, don't worry about it. You can check your phone, and I'll go to the restroom in the meantime."

You just nodded without looking in her direction and immediately opened the message.

📲 Jungkook: "At eight in the evening, I'll pick you up. Be ready. We're going to an afterparty tonight."

You furrowed your brows. For three days, he hadn’t been around, and now he’s suddenly saying you’re going somewhere. He practically just told you what’s happening. You looked at the clock. It was almost four in the afternoon. If you really had to visit some afterparty , you needed to head home and start getting ready.

You noticed that he didn't even say hello to you. Was he offended or something, or too busy to take an extra second to write "hi"? This thought made you feel a strange combination of irritation and disappointment.

And one more question: What’s the after-party like? How do you dress there? Why can't he just explain it in a normal way?

You pressed your lips together, quickly typing out the answer:

📱 You: "For more information I’m needed buy a premium membership? 😤"

Jungkook replied quickly. As if he was waiting for your message. 

📲 Jungkook: "Yes. 100 thousand won." 

📱 You: "I think I'll pass. Do we have to go there together?" 

📲 Jungkook: "Yes" 

One short word. No explanation. No arguments. Just "yes". He didn't write anything else. 

You bit your lip, feeling the tension slowly building. Your trembling fingers beat on the touchscreen with excitement. 

📱 You: "Okay. I'll be ready by 8 pm." 

Jungkook read your message and didn't reply. A second later, you notice that he's logged out of the chat. Your show to be a good couple starts tonight. The thought of playing the role of his girlfriend made your shoulders tense.

A party where everyone will know you're his "girlfriend." More attention. More gossip. More pressure.

But you had no choice. You had to get your job back. And Jungkook had to get his freedom. So you just do what you have to do. For now.

You abruptly stood up from your chair, straightening your shirt. A minute later, Jisu returned to the table.

"Are you leaving already?" she asked in surprise, noticing that you were putting your bag on your shoulder.

"Yes, dear. I have plans for tonight."

You gave her a slight smile, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and left the coffee shop, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

Jungkook was supposed to be here any minute. You got ready as fast as you could. After taking a shower, you put on some light makeup. All that was left was to get dressed. 

You opened your wardrobe and started sorting through your clothes, trying to find something suitable for the afterparty. You had to look nice because you were the Jungkook’s partner.

Eventually, you settled on an elegant black tight-fitting dress that fell to mid-thigh. It had graceful cutouts on the sides, revealing a little bit of waist, and thin straps that emphasized the shoulder line. You completed your look with classic black pumps and minimalist silver jewelry.  You neatly styled your hair in loose waves. 

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you were satisfied. You looked expensive, but without being too pretentious. This is not your first time attending such events. Part of your job description was to attend events related to clients, brands, or influencers. And you knew exactly what you had to look like. 

Jungkook showed up at the door at eight sharp, as promised. He was dressed in all white. A short denim jacket, a white T-shirt underneath that emphasized his perfect, pumped-up body, and white denim pants that were wide at the bottom. He was wearing sneakers on his feet. 

You were frozen holding the doorknob. Jungkook looked so gorgeous in all white. His black hair contrasted with his clean image. 

But there was one problem. Your outfit didn't match his. 

Just as you thought about it, the branded shopping bag in his hands caught your attention. He was holding a bag with the logo of Andersson Bell, one of Korea's most luxurious brands.

Jungkook quickly looked you up and down, his gaze running along your body line, and for a moment something satisfied flashed in his dark eyes, but he instantly returned to his mask of indifference. 

"Hi," he said, clearing his throat. He held out the hand in which he held the shopping bag. You pressed your lips together involuntarily, looking at him and then at the brand logo on the bag. It was not just an expensive brand, but also one of those with which his company had often cooperated. Jungkook had clearly chosen it for a reason. "Change into this." 

You were dissatisfied. You had worked so hard to choose your outfit, and he had ruined it. He could have just warned you how to dress, but this is Jungkook. He didn't do it on purpose and you knew it. This is how he shows control over the situation. But you decided that you would teach him a lesson. If he didn’t warn you how to look, it means you won’t wear what he brought you.

"What do you mean, change? I'm already dressed." you said colorlessly, clutching the doorknob. Jungkook raised an eyebrow. 

"Your dress doesn't match my look. As a couple, we should complement each other." His voice was low and confident. Not imperious, but categorical.

You were about to object, but at the same time you knew he was right. In a world where image decides everything, a couple should look harmonious. But it's his problem that he didn't tell you how to dress in the first place. You rolled your eyes slightly. You grabbed your clutch and phone and were about to leave the apartment, showing Jungkook that you wouldn't do what he said.

His hand grabbed your elbow, stopping you in the doorway. 

"Where are you going, Y/N?" he asked as he was close to you. You proudly turned your head to him, noticing the irritation on his handsome face. 

"To a party. I'm not changing my clothes." you said firmly. Jungkook stared at you for a long few seconds, clearly suppressing a wave of anger. Your heart was beating fast. 

"Y/N let's not fight with you right now, and you just take this bag and go change." he spoke clearly but you could feel how angry he was. You smiled tightly. 

"No. I'm not going to change into whatever you want. You should have told me what to wear before that. Besides, I'm not your doll that you can dress up as you please." 

Jungkook shoved you into the apartment and slammed the door. You pulled your hand away and walked away from him, stopping by the armchair.  

"You will wear what I brought and it's not negotiable." his voice sounded irritated, and sparks of anger burned in his dark eyes.

"What am I, your slave that you order? We are partners in case you forgot?" 

Jungkook walked up to you, stopping a step away. His gaze slid over you from head to toe, and then he abruptly threw the shopping bag at your feet. 

"I see you've taken to making silly scenes?" He asked. You raised your eyebrows.

"I don't make scenes. If you want us to work together properly, you have to keep me informed: "what," "how," and "where." You've decided something for own, after you just put me in front of the fact, that we're going to a party. And then you show up with the clothes that I have to wear." Your mood was spoiled and you didn't want to go with Jungkook at all now. 

He smiled, but it was far from friendly.

"Why are you so stubborn. You could have just put it on and not made a problem out of nothing. Why do you have to complicate things?" 

You snorted, looking away, unable to bear the gaze of those black eyes. 

"You complicate everything. You just need to realize that I'm part of this deal and you have to take my opinion into account."  

"Y/N," he took a step closer, making you feel the warmth of his body. You leaned into the back of the armchair and panicked a little. "Let's get one thing straight. I take your opinion into account exactly as long as it doesn't conflict with my interests." 

You glared angrily. His insolence was infuriating, but what was even more annoying was that he said it with such calm confidence, as if it were something completely normal. You exhaled slowly, trying to contain your irritation.

"Do I understand correctly?" you asked coldly, folding your arms across your chest. "If my opinion doesn't coincide with yours, then it simply doesn't exist?"

Jungkook tilted his head slightly to the side, watching you with a slight squint.

"I'd say your preferences matter... but only if they don't interfere with the bigger picture."

"Big picture?" You huffed dismissively. "You mean if I want to wear a different dress, that's going to ruin your whole image? Oh, poor thing, maybe you shouldn't have brought me along at all if it's that serious."

A shadow of a smile flickered across his lips.

"I'd love to leave you at home, kitten, but unfortunately we have to go together. We made a deal, remember?" You clenched your teeth. But he continued to speak. "And if you've noticed, I've already started to fulfill my end of the bargain. The media stopped writing about you. So be grateful and do your part." He nodded his head toward the package at your feet. 

"Our agreement didn't say that I had to dress the way you wanted. I'm going in what I'm wearing." You stood your ground. 

Jungkook squeezed his fingers and then calmly replied:

"You said it yourself - we are partners. But in a partnership, there are compromises."

You squinted your eyes.

"Compromises? What kind are those? The ones that only work one way — I give in, and you get what you want?"

He smiled, but it was almost calculating.

"You're wasting our time with this meaningless talk. If you don't change yourself, I'll do it for you." 

You inhaled sharply, staring at him in shock and indignation.

"Don't you dare touch me." 

"Then do what I ask," he straightened up, becoming serious again.

You clenched your jaws, feeling your cheeks burn with anger.

"If you want things your way so badly, you can go on your own." 

Jungkook squinted his eyes.

"Not an option." 

"For me, it is."

You walked around Jungkook and took a few steps toward the bedroom, hoping he would just get tired of it and back off. But the next moment, he grabbed your wrist and turned you around.

"Y/N, don't make me lose my patience," his voice was low and his fingers were hot on your skin.

"And don't make me hate you even more," you snapped, trying to pull your hand away. But Jungkook didn't let you. His other hand went around your waist, holding you tightly to him. Your heart skipped a beat. His closeness made your whole being tremble. His eyes fell to your lips.

"You're driving me crazy with your antics. And if it weren't for your stupid rule, I would have punished you already." He said low and confident. You unconsciously held your breath. You could only imagine the kind of sex you could have had between you. You were both on the edge. You feel throbbed between your legs. You aroused. 

"Let go of me." You said calmly, even though you were hot. Jungkook squeezed his fingers tighter. 

"Can we forget about your rule for the last time today? I could fuck you sweetly and you'd calm down." Jungkook suggested seductively, leaning closer. 

The warmth of his body, his hand, and the scent of his perfume made your mind blur. The desire he aroused in you was on the level of an animal. Your body screamed to accept his proposal, but your brain stopped you. No, you would not fall for his charms again. 

You rested your hands on his chest, ignoring the throbbing between your legs. 

"No. We won't forget the rule. You've been touching me unnecessarily for too long. Let go." 

"You want me to. I can see your eyes light up. Come on, kitten, I'll make it quick and qualitatively." said Jungkook. He took a few steps with you to your bedroom door. 

"Are you really crazy? I don't want to have sex with you. You were yelling that we were late..." you panicked. If he going to be more insistent, you mayjust give up. Jungkook led you to the back of your bedroom, and you decided that you would agree to change so that he would let you go. Jungkook kissed your neck and you immediately felt goosebumps. "Jungkook, I'm going to change the clothes. I'm going to change and we're going to the afterparty." 

He stopped and looked at you carefully. You were breathing rapidly. 

"Let’s you stay in that dress, but I'll fuck you?" Jungkook suggested with hope in his voice and a slight smile on his lips. His hands skillfully lifted your dress up your hips. He was so sure it was going to happen. 

"No. You're not going to do that. We don't have sex anymore. We have a rule. And I'm going to change into what you bought. Now let me go." You pulled out of his arms, and Jungkook froze in disappointment in the middle of your bedroom. You walked out of the room, barely able to stop yourself from shaking. Jungkook almost got what he wanted.

You grabbed a shopping bag of famous brand clothes and turned to go to the bathroom when you met Jungkook's gaze standing in your bedroom doorway. He looked disappointed and displeased. You wanted to laugh at him. You pursed your lips to keep from doing that. 

"I'll be waiting for you in the car." he said colorlessly and walked past you, no longer looking in your direction. He slammed the door, and you shrugged your shoulders and went to change. 

Jungkook chose an interesting and unusual look for you. The bag from Andersson Bell included a white asymmetrical top with long sleeves and open shoulders. Wide jean pants in ivory color. Now instead of heels, you put on your favorite white Nike sneakers. 

You went downstairs and found Jungkook's car not far from the entrance. You walked over and noticed that he was on his phone. You exhaled, opened the door, and got into the car.

You tried hard to banish the memories that immediately flooded your mind. The last time you were in this car, you had sex with Jungkook twice. It was so fucking great.

Jungkook gave you a half-view, when you got inside and then started the car and drove out of the yard. 

He was staring at the road with concentration. You sat in the passenger seat, scrolling on your phone. Jungkook was silent the whole way. You shifted a little, getting comfortable, and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his fingers tighten their grip on the steering wheel. He looked calm, but you knew a storm was raging inside him.

You smiled at the corners of your lips, knowing that his irritation was a direct result of your stubbornness. But you didn't feel sorry for him. Jungkook always got what he wanted, and you liked that today you had managed to spoil his plans, even if only partially. 

You decided to pretend that you didn't notice his indignation and continued to scrolling on your phone, scrolling through the news feed. 

After another 10 minutes of silence, you couldn't take it anymore. You're going to have to play the role of a couple, and how can you do that when he's silent like a fish?

"What, you going to be offended now?" You asked ironically, not looking away from the screen.

Jungkook didn't answer right away. He seemed to be about to say something, but then changed his mind and pressed harder on the gas pedal.

"I'm not offended," he finally said dryly. You snorted.

"Oh, of course you are. You're just sitting there, pouting like a child who hasn't been given a toy."

"I'm not a child," his voice darkened.

"But you act like I took away your favorite candy," you mocked.

Jungkook glanced at you briefly and then returned his gaze to the road.

"You just like to spoil my mood," he said.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry I didn't let you fuck me before we went to the party," you replied sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest. "But we agreed, nothing would have happened anyway..." 

Jungkook slammed on the brakes before the traffic light, forcing you to move forward a little. You looked at him angrily, but Jungkook just pressed his lips into a thin line.

"You're going to wish you hadn't added that rule," Jungkook said confidently, watching the traffic light, "I'm going to make you beg me." 

You raised an eyebrow, not hiding your skepticism.

"Oh, really? I'm getting scared right now."

Jungkook looked at you again, this time a little longer, a little sharper. His lips stretched into a subtle smile, the kind that sent shivers down your spine.

"You will."

He spoke so quietly and confidently that you held your breath for a second. But you didn't allow yourself to show that these words really hurt you.

"Good luck with that," you said, turning back to your phone.

The traffic light changed, and Jungkook stepped on the gas, forcing the car to lurch forward.

Jungkook got out of the car without even looking in your direction. He slammed the door, straightened his shoulders, and walked forward, leaving you a little behind.  This caused a strange feeling somewhere deep inside. But you forced yourself to put on an indifferent expression and just followed.

You walked after him, feeling the tension between you become almost physically tangible. Only when you reached the entrance did Chunguk suddenly stop and take your hand. His fingers were warm and his grip was firm. He intertwined your fingers and squeezed your palm, harder than necessary. You almost flinched from this touch, but pretended that everything was fine.

Inside the afterparty venue, it was stylish and luxurious: light panels, mirrors, elegant mannequins in the brand's new collection. The bartender was elegantly pouring champagne into tall glasses, and a jazz band was performing on stage.

Without any explanation, Jungkook led you to a group of men standing a little to the side. One of them was Kim Taehyung, the owner of a boutique and the heir to ʼVante Maisonʼ. He was famous in the fashion world and was a famous actor. He looked confident and elegant, wearing an impeccable suit, with a light, almost lazy smile. 

Next to him stood Park Jimin, graceful, charming, with mischievous sparkles in his eyes. An idol who focused on acting. 

And the third was Jeon Hoseok, whose smile could melt even an icy heart. He was a famous fashion designer. He often collaborated with ‘Vante Maison’. You knew these people only from the news on the Internet and secular magazines. And now you have the opportunity to know them in real life. 

"Jungkookie, at last," Taehyung said, raising his glass in a gesture of welcome. "We were beginning to think you weren't coming." His gaze slid over you, and he squinted his eyes. "Who is this lovely girl next to you?"

The three men looked at you carefully and with undisguised curiosity. Jungkook shook all their hands, not letting go of your palm. 

"How could I not come?"

He smiled slightly and looked at you. You smiled back at him.

"Meet friends, this is my Y/N." 

"Yours?" Taehyung paused briefly, glancing between the two of you.

"A girlfriend," Jungkook clarified briefly, squeezing your hand a little tighter as if to reinforce that statement.

"A girlfriend? That's new," Jimin smiled, but you could tell he was definitely suspicious. "I hope you know who you're messing with."

"Jimin..." Jungkook grimaced. "Don't start..."

"No, we're just concerned about this girl." Hoseok winked at you and raised his glass. "If you've stuck it out with him for even a few days, you deserve respect." 

You nodded, laughing heartily at Hoseok’s words. So you're not the only one who thinks that way about him. Jungkook clicked his tongue in displeasure. 

"I don't think he's that obnoxious. He can be charming." you said with a big smile. 

"Oh, really?" said Taehyung, raising an eyebrow in interest. Jimin snorted and took a sip of champagne, looking slyly at Jungkook.

"That's the first time anyone's ever said that about him without being ironic."

If you weren't pretending to be his girlfriend, you would have said so. But you should have pretended to be in love with him.

"She's joking, right?" Hoseok theatrically put his hand to his chest.

"No, I'm not joking." You glanced over at Jungkook, whose eyes were fixed on you. His lips twitched in a slight smile, and his fingers ran softly over your palm.

"He can be charming, you say?" Taehyung huffed, casting a quick glance at Jungkook. "Well, well. I'll have to see it for myself. In any case, we are pleased to meet you. Welcome to my party!" Taehyung raised his glass to the side. 

"I am happy to be here today! Thank you so much!" you said, making your smile as natural as possible.

"Have you said everything?" Jungkook sighed, pulling you closer to him. "Or can I take her to the others now, before you scare her off completely?"

"Actually, we're glad Jungkook has someone. We didn't expect it because our young man is so hardworking." Hoseok said sincerely, putting his hand on Jungkook's shoulder. 

"We'll go greet the other ones and come back." Jungkook said, becoming softer. "Come on. There are a few more people you should meet." Jungkook turned to you and led the way. 

You nodded, and he led you across the room, leaving behind the curious glances of his friends.

Jungkook also introduced you to a man named Namjoon, a man you had never met before. He turned out to be a businessman and art investor. A little later, Jin and Yoongi showed up, and you were also introduced to them as Jungkook's girlfriend. Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi were very interested in you. Namjoon smiled calmly, Jin jokingly asked if Jungkook forced you to be with him, and Yoongi just hummed, giving you a long look before taking a sip of his drink.

All of this made you feel a little uncomfortable. You realized that in their eyes, you were something unexpected in Jungkook's life. You realized that they all knew about Jungkook's upcoming engagement, and now you were showing up. All these stares made you feel pressured.

Throughout the evening, you moved between guests, chatting, answering greetings, and drinking champagne. Jungkook didn't stray far away, but he was acting colder than usual. He touched you less often, didn't give you the usual meaningful glances, and didn't try to create a romantic picture, except when it was absolutely necessary.

You didn't know why it bothered you. After all, you had asked him to do this.

But when your eyes met several times with journalists or Jungkook's friends who were clearly studying you, you felt an inner turmoil. You panicked that your story might not look credible. 

You felt that your role as a passive companion was not enough. Taking a deep breath, you walked over to Jungkook and took his hand.

He didn't even flinch, just intertwined your fingers and squeezed them without any hesitation. You felt that strange harmony again. And when you leaned lightly against him, he simply hugged you with one arm, continuing to talk to Yoongi as if it were normal.

You felt a strange peace. It felt the same as it had at the corporate party. Sometimes everything between you two seemed so natural that you couldn't understand how it was possible if you were arguing more than talking normally. When Yoongi was distracted and Jungkook gave you a brief glance, you thought that you needed to show everyone that you were really a couple. 

"Shall we go for a drink?" you suddenly suggested. Jungkook looked at you, a little surprised, but nodded.

You ordered drinks, and after the first sip, you felt the alcohol relax you a little. You turned to him, feeling playful.

"Why you don't kiss me?" You asked. Jungkook raised his eyebrows skeptically. 

"You want, that I’ve to kiss you?" He asked, moving closer to you, one hand resting on the bar. You took another sip, looking over the top of your glass. 

"We're a couple, aren't you supposed to kiss me?" 

His eyes narrowed slightly, and the corners of his lips twitched in a slight, subtle smile. He took another slow step toward you. 

"I don't want to kiss you." he said casually, smiling slyly. He tilted his head, watching you mischievously. You hummed. You pretended to be surprised. 

"What do I hear?" you said. "Are you still upset that I didn't let you fuck me?" you asked, leaning toward him so that only he could hear, and leaning back with a provocative smile. 

Jungkook squinted his eyes in displeasure. He grabbed the whiskey glass and took a sip. Jungkook liked your battles, but most he liked it when he won in them.

"I will fuck you anyway, but only after you begging me." Jungkook said confidently. You almost choked on your breath. Why does he think you'll beg him? He's so self-confident. 

"Jeon, it's time for you to accept that I'm not your typical girl. I won't beg you even the world ends go." 

Jungkook's eyes lit up with fire. You were constantly challenging him. He loves challenges. Jungkook put his glass down on the bar and pulled you close. His arm went around your waist and you let him do it because you knew that people were looking at you. Jungkook leaned down to your ear. His lips left a tangible touch on your skin. 

"You will be. I know you want me too, I just don't understand why you're denying it." You wanted to say that you didn't want him, but you didn't have time. He kissed you, taking your face in his hands.

He did not kiss you lightly and gently, as he should have, because you were among people. He put his tongue in your mouth, instantly provoking a causing the butterflies in the your stomach. You put your hands on top of his. Hoping that he would let you go. But he didn't.

Your body reacted to his kiss, even though you were trying to remain indifferent on the level of your mind. You responded by intertwining your tongues, you enjoyed it because you knew that when your lips parted, you would be forced to turn on your mask of unavailability. 

When the air in your lungs ran out, Jungkook pulled away. You slowly opened your eyes, returning to reality. You met his sly smile. 

"Tomorrow, all the articles are yours." You said ironically. Jungkook smiled with the corner of his lips. A voice from the side made you tear your eyes away from each other. 

"That's a good point. I can see you're going to love being on the front page of all the tabloids, groom." 

A girl stood not far from you and you immediately realized who it was. Your heart sank. It was none other than Kang Sukhi. 

⇠ Previous ⟡ Index ➩ ⟡ Next ⇢

[car-o-line]

REQUEST ALERT!! What about Doey with a player who is a perfectionist?(Gets hard on themselves when they mess up.) ( I’M 100% SERIOUS WHEN I SAY THIS, BUT I AM NOT TRYING TO ENCOURAGE THIS BEHAVIOR! THIS IS A WAY TO SHOW PEOPLE THAT THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO GO THROUGH THIS! Which it makes me sad :( ) sincerely, a person named Aiden!!

I REMEMBER YOU AIDEN😈😈😈😈 ALSO LIKE WHAT AIDEN SAID THIS IS NOT ENCOURAGING THIS BEHAVIOR I LOVE YOU GUYS STAY SAFE<3333

Doey with a reader who is a perfectionist

Big dough man was, well obviously learned about you from Poppy. She told him how perfect you were. How you did everything perfectly and without flaw.

He was quite surprised but also intrigued by you because Poppy never really gave him such a high stander for anyone in the facility.

He started searching for you, and eventually found you trying to escape from Yarnaby. He let you know of his presence quietly and lit a small fire to drive Yarnabys attention away from you so you could escape without the possibility of being harmed.

Once you finally came into contact with him he acted as he normally did, he still couldn’t trust you all that much but he wanted to believe in Poppy, believe her words that you truly were here to help(you weren’t, you just wanted to go home😐)

After some 1 on 1 time with you he started to notice the oddities about you as a person. How you wouldn’t let anything within your path be dirty, wiping even the smallest piece of dust off a toy whose life was long gone already. Or, how you’d restart a whole puzzle if you made a fixable mistake in the midst of it.

He thought your way of doing things was odd, I mean. He doesn’t believe making sure the chain is connected to the door perfectly is necessary. He thinks a lot of the things you do are unnecessary actually-

But the souls inside the toy just believed that those little habits were just small quirks about you.

“Safe Haven is right ahead..I’ll have Kissy show you around.”

“🙂, 😐, 😦, 😧, 😬.”

(that was you when you saw Safe Havens state)

He noticed your reaction and gave a playful giggle towards it, mentioning how it wasn’t the cleanest because he didn’t have the time TO clean it.

You immediately offered to do it for him, it wasn’t that you were upset or angry with him, it’s just that you yourself couldn’t stay in a place so messy without wanting to bang your head against a wall.

He denied, of course. He didn’t want you cleaning after him and the others but you insisted. So instead of putting more attention to that subject, he switched it and brought you to Poppy where she’d speak more on what the plan was. But before she gives you more tasks to do, Doey suggests that you take a rest. “You’ve been working too hard and you’ll get too tired to do anything else,” he’d say.

Poppy, thankfully, was fond of that idea as well. She also told Doey it’d be best for everyone in Safe Haven to rest too(something they can finally agree on💀)

You were hesitant because since you’re down here already instead of where you’re actually supposed to be to be- cough cough home cough cough chapter 2 ending- and you just wanted to get all this mess fixed up as soon as possible.

But you had really no choice on the matter, you were afraid of going out in the danger again without a partner to go with. So just following what Poppy and Doey say are you best option.

Though while everyone was resting, you just couldn’t seem to do so yourself. You just couldn’t fall asleep somewhere so meet, not when someone could actually do something about it and clean it.

So that’s what you did, you spent the whole night cleaning and throwing trash away to the best of your ability. Even if something seemed impossible to clean because of how dirty it was you didn’t give up because it just felt wrongly to leave something imperfect.

You even took the time to wipe off any and all dirt off of most of the sleeping toys. Gently using a wet clothing to get them clean again.

Once everyone awoke the toys were pleasantly surprised to be cleaned, like they just took a “shower” but as a toy.

Doey was actually quite saddened by what you did, don’t get him wrong though. He appreciates it truly, but the result was that he didn’t get to help you and that you didn’t get a wink of sleep.

Matthew was the most worried about your habit of making sure everything’s perfect. He’d remind you that even if the thing wasn’t flawless that it could still serve its purpose. He doesn’t like when you insist on working on something past evening just because you don’t think it’s good enough, he doesn’t like that you don’t you’re good enough. In the end he’s try his best to reassure you that you’re doing the best you can in this situation, and that’s all that matters.

Kevin thinks your mindset is just plan unnecessary. Like, why are you brushing kissy fur until she looks brand new? She’ll get dirty anyway. What’s the point? He doesn’t see why you do the things you do, but once he gets slightly closer with you, he starts to get used to it. He wouldn’t find that concerning because he hasn’t talked to many actual people since he got transferred to Doey. He wouldn’t know what’s concerning and what’s not unless you were just psychotic. Which, you weren’t(maybe, who knows🥳)

Jack is more playful about the whole thing tbh. He thinks it’s funny how you rush around to make sure everything is in order. But he gets somewhat whiny when he asks you to draw a picture of Doey or Poppy and you throw a hissy fit because you drew an imperfect circle for the head, or it just doesn’t look like the Mona Lisa. He giggles when that happens, he doesn’t mean to but when you actually get really upset he worry’s and holds you hand, then tells you that you did good.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Not Supposed To Hear That – Glen Powell

My face started burning the second I stepped onto the set. I've been working as a PA for Netflix for five years. Over the years, I've worked on several movies that Glen's been a part of. But something changed as we filmed Hitman.

Glen and I have interacted on every set we've worked on. It started with my cold hands putting on his mike. Then it moved to him using my cold hands to get rid of a headache. It progressed when he knocked my lunch on me and offered to take me to dinner to make it up. Things didn't really progress much further. We ended up filming late and never rescheduled. Instead, we had small-talk conversations whenever we saw each other.

That is, until last night.

I'm not entirely sure how we ended up in his hotel room, naked in bed together. It might have something to do with a ton of us going out drinking after we finished filming early.

I woke up to the feeling of someone wrapping their arm around me. As soon as my eyes opened, memories flooded my mind.

Drinking.

Dancing.

Grinding.

Making out.

Undressing.

And every moment after.

I hesitated before finally looking over my shoulder. Glen seemed like he was sleeping, but his smirk made it clear that he wasn't. My thoughts changed from memories to worries. I started to overthink why what happened last night had happened.

Right as those thoughts started to get a little too dark, Glen started kissing my neck. I squeezed my eyes closed and struggled to hold in my moan as the kisses got a little more sloppy. A moan escaped when he bit my collarbone.

"There she is," he moaned against my skin. I gasped when he grabbed my hips and rolled me onto my back, quickly hovering over me.

"How'd you sleep, gorgeous?"

"Not bad," I said, the butterflies in my stomach going crazy. His eyes softened as he lowered his body closer to mine.

"You know that this wasn't just a drunken mistake," he whispered, "right?"

"No," I confessed, my voice as soft as his. "But it helps that you said that."

Glen chuckled before leaning in and pressing his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around his chest as we repeated last night's events.

About an hour later, Glen finally let me leave. I went home and quickly showered before heading to work. I walked onto set, everything feeling a little hazy. I went about my normal routine with my mind on last night and this morning. It wasn't until I overheard something I clearly shouldn't have overheard that I was pulled out of my dream-like state.

"So, Powell, a little birdy told me you completed the dare?"

I froze.

Please don't let them be talking about what I think they're talking about.

"And what little birdy was that?" I heard Glen scoff. There was something in his voice that made my stomach turn.

"One of the girls in the makeup trailer," another guy spoke up. By the sound of his voice, it might have been Luke, the weapons specialist we hired. "She told me that Y/N came into work this morning with a very big smile on her face."

"I can't believe you actually took that bet," Oliver, one of our camera guys laughed.

"I can't believe that Hollywood's bad boy, Glen Powell, actually got quite shy little Y/N to sleep with him," Paul, another cameraman, chuckled.

"Oh shit," Luke swore when his eyes landed on me. All of the guys, including Glen, turned toward me.

"Y/N. . ." Glen stuttered. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough," I said but it got caught in my throat. Glen tried to take a step closer to me. I instantly took a step back. I shook my head as the tears burned my eyes.

"Y/N, it's not what it. . ."

I didn't hear the rest of his excuse. I turned on my heel and ran until I got to my car. Tears streamed down my face as I drove home.

* * * * *

My breath got stuck in my throat when I opened the door. Glen was standing on my porch with his Red Carpet Ready smile.

"Hey, you."

"What are you doing here?" My question made his smile drop.

"You wouldn't return my calls," he stuttered.

"Yeah," I sighed, leaning against the doorway. "There's a reason for that."

"Y/N, I was just trying to. . ."

"I can't do this," I cut him off. "I don't want to do this. Please leave."

Before he could say anything else, I shut the door. I was about to walk away but something stopped me. As I tried to figure out what that was, it became clear.

"Look," I heard him sigh through the door, "I know nothing I say is going to make this better. And I know you're not going to believe me when I say this but I'm going to say it anyway - I didn't sleep with you because of the bet. "

"You're right," I said, yanking the door open again. My voice broke as I continued, "I don't believe you."

"I get that," he smiled softly. "And you have every right to think it's not true, but it is. I swear, Y/N. I didn't sleep with you because of the bet. The guys saw us talking one day and started teasing me about it."

"What were they saying?" I asked, my voice still soft.

"They kept asking if I was talking to you because. . ."

"Because what?" I pushed.

Glen sighed before admitting, "Because I wasn't getting any anywhere else and you were the best available."

"Wow," I scoffed. I started to shut the door but he didn't let me close it this time.

"Y/N," he said, his tone changing, "I want to explain. Please. Let me in."

I sighed before opening my door and standing aside. After he walked into my apartment, I slowly closed the door. I took a shaky breath before turning around and following him into the living room. He stood awkwardly until I sat down on the couch. He hesitated before sitting next to me.

"Listen. . ." He slowly started. "The guys are asses. They think that a girl and a guy can't be friends. They think the only reason someone like me would be talking to someone like you is because of sex."

"Someone like me," I mumbled.

"No!" He gasped. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant an actor and a PA."

"You're not helping yourself, Glen," I sighed, subconsciously scooting away from him.

"I know," he said under his breath. "Let me try this again."

My heart jumped into my throat when Glen turned toward me, grabbed my hands, and turned me toward him.

"I am so sorry, Y/N," he said gently. "But you have to believe me. I didn't sleep with you last night because the guys dared me to. That dare was a joke. I didn't accept it. I didn't even tell them we hooked up. They kept asking questions and that's what you heard. They saw you get angry and storm off. The second they started asking me how it was, I chased after you. When you left, I found them again and threatened them."

"You what?" I stuttered.

"I told them to leave you and me alone," he explained, slowly reaching over and grabbing my hand. "I told them that if they ever made you uncomfortable or spread rumors about you, I'd beat them senseless."

"Glen. . ."

"I had to," he said quickly. "I had to stand up for you. I didn't want you thinking that I used you. I'd never do that to a girl, Y/N. Especially a girl like you."

"A girl like me?" I asked, barely finding my voice.

"A girl I really care about."

He grabbed my other hand and pulled me closer. I didn't stop him as he leaned in and delicately pressed his lips to mine. I hesitated before kissing him back. As our lips moved in sync, he let go of my hands and gently grabbed my face. To respond, I reached forward and grabbed his shirt.

Next, Glen did something I didn't expect; he pulled away.

"Y/N," he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine. "I need to know that you know I didn't sleep with you because of that damn dare."

He leaned back and studied me. I realized that he was waiting for me to reassure him.

"I know," I said, my voice under my breath.

"Good," he said, instantly relaxing. He smiled as he reached up and tucked some hair out of my face, his hand lingering there. "All these weeks, we've been teasing each other, bringing each other coffee and lunch, making jokes. Spending more and more time together. That was all real, Y/N. And over those weeks, I have fallen harder and harder for you. In fact, I'm crazy about you, Y/N. Absolutely, positively crazy about you."

I studied his eyes, struggling to sort out my feelings. I wanted to believe him. And I almost did.

"Glen," I said, my voice softer than I wish I had.

"I'm crazy about you, Y/N," he said again, his eyes desperate. "Please believe me."

"I want to," I stuttered. "But I just. . . I can't get that conversation out of my head."

I quickly stood up and started pacing back and forth in front of Glen, who was still on the couch.

"I can't stop thinking about the way they all laughed," I started to ramble. "They were laughing at me, Glen. At the idea of us. And they're right! No one would believe that Hollywood's Heartthrob would fall for a boring PA. But when I only think about you, and the time we spend together, and how you make me feel. . ."

"How do I make you feel?" He asked, slowly standing up and making me stop pacing. He didn't look away from me as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. I took a shaky breath as he repeated, "How do I make you feel, Y/N?"

"I can't really explain," I said slowly. "I get all. . . fluttery inside. When we hang out, I feel like there's a stampede in my stomach. When we talk, I feel like my heart is running a marathon. When you look at me, I feel like the world freezes. When you smile at me, I feel like everything is perfect."

Glen leaned in and smashed his lips to mine. I let out a small moan as I slid my hands up his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck. We broke apart, both of us breathing heavily.

I smiled as I added, "When you kiss me, I feel like everything around me freezes so we can stay in that moment longer."

"I know I've owed you this way too long," he chuckled as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, "but can I take you to dinner?"

[a-hermit-pining]

A Fallen God

AN: HEAR ME OUT!! HE SUCKS SO WHY NOT MAKE HIM SUFFER. SCREAM AT ME IN COMMENTS BUT IF THERE IS A GOD IN LORE I HAVE WRITE ABOUT THEM >< I LOVE ZAYNE TOO ISTG

Pairing: Astra x GN Reader

Genre: One sided obsession. Angst.

Summary: "You will bring doom to any you seek," he announces from his throne, already writing the fate of your trials to come. "Every pain known to the living shall be yours to bear. But harsher will be the fate of those who dare to love you."

"It is your fate," Astra circles you, his fingers lingering at the curve of your back.

"I bow to no fate," you grit your teeth, shoving him away. "Especially not one that ends at your side."

He, who once shaped stars with breath alone, had fallen. Doomed by his own vices. Your teacher, the all-seeing, all-knowing one, had seen you beside him in every vision of the end.

So he tried to bind you to him. A union of gods.

"You will suffer. Suffering is learning," he says, his clawed fingers brushing your cheek, tender in the way only your kind can pretend to be. "I am not new to rebuilding the broken." A red string materializes between his fingers, thin, crimson, unsnapped.

"I will be your comfort after the trials. There is no world where will wins against destiny." He declares it like law, like time itself will bend to his voice. The god beyond time.

And you, you were young then. Only a few centuries old. Born with the birth of self-aware thought. The deity of will.

You, the contradiction to everything he was. And he hated you for it.

"Try a thousand lifetimes, a thousand times over, and you still won’t win." You glare at him, fire twisting in your throat. "Your world runs on the tracks of fate, but creation is made out of its will."

You turn your back to him. Your hands tremble. "Never will I be yours. Any pain is amenable."

"You will bring doom to any you seek," he announces from his throne, already writing the fate of your trials to come. "Every pain known to the living shall be yours to bear. But harsher will be the fate of those who dare to love you."

"I accept." You close your eyes, willing to calm the tempest that riles your powers. "Bitter will be the pain of becoming someone's doom. Yet, I will bear it. I choose it over you."

You stare at the core pulsing in your palm, alive, sacred, yours.

And then you shatter it.

"This will never be yours. No matter what."

You crush it into shards and release them into the winds of creation, feeling the parts of you scatter. A fog of fall and forgetting creeps into your skin. Your power begins to unravel.

Soon, your memories will scatter. Your godhood will be stripped. And all that you were will vanish, until the end of trials.

An end that might never come.

In the last moments of your consciousness, he torments you with visions of time to come.

Of the worlds of Linkon, Philos, and so many more.

He shows you the fragments of your soul as they fall; into kingdoms torn by war, into cities where rain never stops, into bodies that bleed and break with each rebirth.

He lets you feel it. Every lifetime waiting to be lived.

He lets you taste every betrayal. Every mistake you’ll make. Every love that will end in ruin because it was built with pieces of you.

And then he smiles.

Not out of cruelty, no, Astra has always believed this is mercy. That suffering brings you home.

"You will return to me," he says. Not as a threat. As prophecy.

And then the fog takes you.

And the visions are gone.

But their ache lingers like the echo of your torment that he keeps alive.

Astra felt the unraveling like a blade pressed under his ribs. The final thread went slack. The loom stilled. And then, nothing.

You were gone.

Not lost. Not scattered. Freed.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were supposed to suffer until you crawled. Bleed until you begged. Return to him not out of love, but exhaustion. He had designed your trials meticulously, every loss tailored to weaken you. Every death, every lover, every flicker of peace, calculated failures meant to break your will.

And you had the audacity to overcome all of it.

You had the nerve to choose something other than him.

Astra moved through the remains of his halls, robes dragging through ash. The loom, the machine he had built to thread your lifetimes, was crumbling. Dozens of strands snapped, unraveling entire timelines.

Let them fall.

Let the worlds rot.

He didn’t care about the order of things anymore.

Not if you were no longer bound to it.

He swept a hand over the map of the worlds of his making, watching as the image of your final form flickered, unreachable now. You had remembered everything, endured every curse, and still walked away from him.

You dared to think you were finished.

Foolish.

There were other ways to reach you. Other paths to turn you back into something desperate. And Astra knew all of them.

He wouldn’t beg.

He would ruin.

He would thread nightmares into the lives of your beloveds. Poison their fates. Twist their dreams until they woke screaming your name. He would resurrect old ghosts, bring back lovers you lost and pit them against each other. He would engineer tragedies so precise you’d think destiny itself had turned on you.

And when the world began to rot under the weight of your name, you would come back. You’d have to.

And if you didn’t?

He’d burn every universe you touched until the only place left to stand… was at his side.

You were his creation. His defiance. His obsession.

And gods do not let go.

[pinkphilosophy18]

My Sylus Headcanons

Authors note: Heyy guys this is my first post. I’m open to criticism but please be nice :)) please remember these are my interpretations of Sylus and his character and if you see him in totally different way that’s fine. All the images are from Pinterest btw. TSYMM for reading let me know if you got some ideas for what I should write next 💌

Tw: shitty grammar, nsfw, bdsm, I am a virgin (if there’s factually incorrect data regarding sex), MDNI,

When you're trying new things in bed, Sylus easily bends to whatever you have in mind, if it's receiving or on the giving side. Somethings like praise or tease comes easy to him, things like bdsm and non-con elements take him more time to get used too.

When it comes to things like bdsm and non-con where it's very easy to cross the line and pleasure and pain, accidents where you hurt your partner is prone to happen at some point, and thats exactly what he's afraid of; hurting you.

Because of his history (past life), He is more comfortable on the receiving end when it comes to these things but when you ask for it back, he hesitates.

As mentioned frequently, Sylus likes to be in charge of his actions and their outcomes. This goes for things outside bed as well. One of the reasons Sylus likes to be on the receiving end of the stick when it comes these types of plays is because when you mistakenly go overboard he can easily take the situation into his control, with the flip of a switch he can go to submissive to dominant.

When it's the first time you try something new

I believe it would have been after some type of request on your part prior to both of you fucking. This really depends on your interpretation of mc, but for my mc I imagine she brings it up on a night she specifically wants to try it rather than a heat of the moment kind of thing.

The first time you ask he doesn't outrightly refuse you, he doesn't he lie to you either. He has a roundabout way of saying "I'll consider it". Knowing him, he would probably say it under a teasing comment. Something like "we'll see if you remember sweetheart"/ "Getting bored so soon, kitten?" .

The first time you both try it out, he's nervous. I know it's hard to imagine but he tries his hardest not to show it so you can have a 'better time' but you've know him too long to not-not notice it. In the beginning he would need to some kind of gesture on your part telling him he's doing good. Im not a big fan of safe words but he would probably make you establish one before you begin.

So what happens when he makes a mistake and does end up hurting you?

Immediately he wants to stop and jump right into aftercare. Since he's extremely self-conscious at this point, it would be advised you take it slow with him. If its his first time he's hurt you by mistake, he need time to jump back into it. It's a lot on his part but you can support him by slowly guiding him back into it. Show him how it's done . Teach him what makes you comfortable and what doesn't(keep in mind what works for others might not necessarily work for you/ it's all about preference) . Use your words : tell him it's ok and give him examples of when you screwed up with him in bed , he might reject this but it eases the tension as you guys laugh about that time. At the end even if both of you decide to end the night there, he will be going to bed with a clear conscious and you don't need to worry whether he's taken it to deeply.

If this is not the first time he's made a mistake then it's easier for him to bounce back. He's less tense because he's been in this situation before and knows what to do exactly when it happens. Before you both resume, he will definitely drop everything to make sure you ok before and ask you if your willing to continue. If your worried that you might've interrupted the vibe, he will definitely show you different ways to bring it back ;)

Bonus: basically Sylus and Mc’s dynamic