#but i read a fic a whole ago that kind of touches on this whole conceot

[fuctacles]

Dude, That's My Ghost!

A @steddieexchange fic for @hellfireloserclub !! I hope you like it. The whole first chapter is up on Ao3.

E | ~9k | no cw | Soulmates AU, Supernatural Elements, Magical Bonds, Ghost Sex, No UD, Magical Bonds | more tags on Ao3! | beta read by @blasvemous <3

Disappearing Act

The Universe is an amazing creation. In its vastness, it gives you a Soulmate, so you don't feel alone despite your brief and meaningless existence. It may not be perfect, but it's thoughtful, and that's more than you can say about its inhabitants.

And yet, in this benevolent Universe, there is Steve Harrington.

"Ah."

He's standing in front of a guy, their hands outstretched and bare, their Soul-marks visible. At least what's left of them. 

Steve watches in horror as the swarm of bats moves around his skin in panic, vanishing one by one as if sucked into his body. They've been with him for years and now they're just... gone.

When he looks up at the man he's just met, the nail bat on his forearm has vanished as well. He looks more surprised than terrified, though, twisting his arm curiously.

"Well..." He purses his lips. "I'm sorry, mate." He shrugs. "It was nice meeting you."

And before Steve can grab him, or collect himself at all, the man disappears into the crowd. He doesn't feel anymore the tether that helped him find the man in the first place. It's all gone. The Soul-mark, the connection, his Soulmate. Who was clearly right in front of him just a minute ago.

What the fuck had just happened?

Nobody has an answer for him. As far as he knows, it has never happened before, ever. Steve Harrington must be just a special kind of fucked up, hated by the universe. Destined to be unloved. Even though for a brief moment, he wasn't. For a second, he felt whole, with his Soulmate right in front of him, within reach of his hand, but as soon as their palms touched... it disappeared.

There are people without them, but no one whose mark would vanish, like a candy yanked out of a kid's hand. And every day Steve wonders, why him? In a world where everyone was leaving him, where having someone tied to him was his only hope, the only chance for love, why him?

He had left that music festival, where he met the man supposedly destined for him, right after, to grieve his loss in the solitude of his apartment. It felt like a piece of his soul had been torn out and something inside him ached, open and bleeding, with no way to patch it up.

The taped boxes of Robin's stuff were like an additional kick in the gut. She was leaving him soon too, off to live with her soulmate, which she gets to have. He loves it for her, of course he does, but it was easier to do knowing there was someone out there for him as well.

To not think about it, he finally focused on what he's been putting away ever since Robin said she was moving in with Vickie. Looking for a new place, a one-person apartment for himself, and nobody else. It takes over a month, but when he finds it, he finds it. He knows it's the place he wants to call home.

It's shit. 

A small apartment carved from an unused attic space, perfect for a desperate single student. The bathroom barely fits a shower and a toilet and doesn't have any space left for a sink. He has to wash his hands in the kitchen, or the space that he's supposed to call one. It's a little far from college but in a pinch, he could cash in on Robin's promise that he's always welcome at her new place, which is just a short walk away from their school.

It's perfect.

Even if Robin asks him once if he's punishing himself for something that's not his fault, like a really weird interpretation of a martyr. But he just opens his tiny window and lets her listen to the birds from the park below. All she can hear from her windows are the honking cars and yells of the students trying to get the best parking spot. And that's a point for the 'you rule' column as far as he's concerned.

The place has one more perk she doesn't know of and he's not sure which column it would classify in.

Because he's sharing it with a ghost.

It's almost alarming how quickly he accepts it. One day he's listening to music to unwind, and the next he finds a note on his desk telling him his taste in music is shit.

"Hello?" he asks to the room as a whole. Nobody could hide there. There simply wasn't enough space.

His eyes widen when his pen moves.

You won't see me, it writes. Can you play a rock station?

Steve only blinks.

"Uh, sure," he says, staring at the pen. "Do you know the frequency?"

He gets a few numbers in response and reaches for the dials of the radio to set it up. Soon, a song he doesn't recognize fills out the cramped space.

"This okay?"

Yes. Thank you so much.

Thoughtfully, Steve pulls out a notebook and opens it on a blank page.

"Are you a ghost?" he asks, staring at the faint blue lines.

What's a ghost, Steve? appears the message, slightly crooked despite the clear guidelines. The handwriting somehow fits the vibe of the music playing from the radio. 

"How do you know my name?" he frowns at the words.

It's all over your books?

"Fair," Steve huffs, sitting heavily by his desk. "I don't know, a dead person?" he answers the previous question.

Well, I didn't die. So. Not a ghost I guess.

"Then what?"

What's left when your body is taken away from you?

Steve's frown deepens. What is this, an impromptu quiz test?

"Uh, a soul?"

Then that's what I am, probably.

"So where's your body?" Steve asks, perplexed.

Some asshole demon took it.

"A demon?" he asks flatly, raising his eyebrows.

You're talking to a floating pen and the demon is what's unbelievable?

"Well, I'm sorry I'd rather not believe demons exist!" Steve scoffs, throwing his arms up.

Sorry to break it to you buddy but they do. And I've learned it the hard way.

"Yeah, I can tell," he murmurs.

Don't be sassy with me, I'll break all your mugs.

"We're not summoning a demon."

"Okay, sheesh. No need for violence." Steve rolls his eyes. "So, what happened?"

"We're not summoning a demon because they don't exist," Jeff elaborates.

"How about some make-believe, hm?" Eddie puts his hands on his hips, clearly disappointed in his bandmates. "A bonding activity to boost morale?"

"You know what would boost morale?" Gareth points his drumstick at him. "Band practice."

"Fine!" Eddie throws his hands in the air. "I'll do it myself, but don't cry later when I'll be the only one blessed by the metal gods!"

"We won't," Doug assures him dryly.

"So it's gods or demons after all? Can't pick a side?"

Eddie flips them off with both hands before grabbing his guitar. He knows they are right, though. Only practice and improvement can give them a chance at the next battle of the bands. They were already so close to winning this year and were slowly becoming recognizable in the city. Getting there was slow but reachable, which was not how Eddie usually does things.

That's why, even if it's just for the peace of his own mind, a spiritual placebo, if you will, he grabs himself a beer and pulls out his D&D notes. He did way too much research on demons for his last campaign not to have some fun with it.

The instructions are cheesy, but it's exactly what he needs—something in good fun and on theme, even if it was supposed to be a group activity. He copies all the symbols, and chants, and draws blood. With his eyes squeezed shut, he makes his wish.

"Whoever is listening, help my band make it big."

The old wooden beams creak with their age. Nothing happens.

He opens his eyes, blinking to clear his vision, and realizes he's relieved. Summoning an infernal being to his little attic apartment didn't sound as thrilling as he had been selling to his friends earlier that day. To be honest, he just wanted to do some weird metal shit with his band that they could later talk about in interviews. "We sold our souls for this album," would be a bonkers headline for the front page.

"That can be arranged."

Eddie shrieks.

He grabs tighter the knife he's still holding from his blood sacrifice and turns around. There on his bed, criss-crossed and relaxed, sits a creature of nightmares.

"What the fuck?!" Eddie's voice doesn't sound as deep and intimidating as he'd like it to.

"You summoned me," the intruder deadpans.

"Oh. Oh, right." It doesn't make him any less terrified. "Uh, what do you want?" he stammers, hoping to get the demon out of his space as soon as possible. He wants to call the boys, would love to hear Gareth's annoying voice right about now, actually.

"For your wish? I want in."

Eddie frowns.

"In?"

And then I held up my guitar and told him to hop in but he hopped into my body instead and here we are.

"You ever heard of a cursed instrument?"

Steve stares at the string of words. And stares. And stares.

I know I'm stupid you don't have to tell me.

"Oh thank god, because I didn't want to make you feel even worse."

He looks around the place and slowly points at the bed.

"So, that demon, was sitting on the same bed I slept in last night?'

Not on these covers, obviously, but yes.

"Holy shit." Steve feels himself shudder with cold dread. He knows all of this might be a lie, since there is no way for him to fact-check it, but the idea is disturbing enough. "And the summoning circle?" He looks down at the floorboards below his socked feet.

It was about here, but I guess the bastard cleaned it. Took all my shit with him too.

"So he's just living your life now?"

I'd guess so.

"Have you looked for him?"

Buddy the first thing I remember since then is waking up to you moving in

Steve frowns.

"What?"

Shit. What year is it?

"1986," he answers, his frown deepening.

Thank gods. Summer?

"September. The new semester just started. What the fuck, man, when did this happen?"

Spring break. Just a few months ago, apparently.

"That's half a year!" Steve points out. "And you were what, just, unconscious this whole time?"

Yeah. Maybe you helped, I don't know. Was someone else living here?

He shakes his head.

"I was told the previous tenant left without a word and they haven't even noticed at first."

Can't imagine a demon knowing the intricacies of renting an apartment.

It's normal for about two days, as far as living with a ghost can be. But it all spirals one night when Steve feels something touch him when he's trying to fall asleep.

Wait. What about my deposit?!

He jerks back in alarm and pulls back the covers but sees no stray items left there. Takes another look around, checking if something fell from the mattress, but sees nothing. He settles down against his pillow.

"Eddie?" he asks quietly.

He almost faints when the radio cracks to life. The dials switch and rotate and through the white noise of static, come bits of songs and voices until one breaks through.

"...what?..."

"This isn't happening..." Steve mutters to himself, eyes wide. "You could talk this whole time?!"

"...had no idea...you just...annoy me so much...had to speak up..."

"What the fuck, man?!"

"...let me sleep..."

"You sleep?!" He's fully awake now himself. "Why? What for?"

"...maybe you...drain my energy...with George Michael..."

"Fuck away from George Michael!" his voice cracks, now on the edge of hysterics.

"...you fuck away...was here first..."

"Yeah, and you fucked it up!"

Right after he says it, something falls on his chest, pinning him to the mattress.

"...low blow Steve..."

Steve blinks at the nothingness around him. On top of him. He feels no weight, no touch, but something isn't letting him move. His confused senses make his brain overheat.

"You can touch me?"

He feels the sting of a slap on his cheek, but he's too confused to feel pain.

"Ow?" is all he manages to say.

"...yup..."

The thing on top of him shifts, now off his chest but pinning him from the waist down, like someone is straddling him. He reaches up with his hands, searching for an invisible person.

"...don't...it feels wrong..."

"Sorry." He retracts his hand. Blinking rapidly as if it could give him an insight to the soul realm, he searches for any sign of thighs splayed over his body. "This is weird."

"...no shit..."

His palm, still raised, feels something soft and tingly, and his fingers spread like someone is slotting theirs in between. Steve feels something tighten in his chest, a longing he's been trying to bury deep inside.

"...can we...go back to sleep?..."

Steve lets out a short, surprised laugh.

"Are you kidding me? I don't think I've ever felt more awake than right now." Then, he frowns. "Have you been sleeping with me all this time?"

"...yeah?...there's only one bed..."

"Unbelievable," he murmurs to himself. The first time he shares a bed with a guy and it's a fucking ghost. Soul. Whatever.

"...you want me to...sleep on the floor?..."

"No," Steve groans, falling back against his pillow. "Just get off me and go to sleep."

Eddie doesn't leave, but he lets go of his hand. Something presses against his abdomen.

"...how about...I get you off?..."

"What?"

There's a pressure against his groin, someone's phantom butt cheeks grinding down on him. So much has been happening, that he hasn't even realized he woke up half-hard.

"No, it's alright—"

"...you sure?...you'll sleep like a baby..."

Steve lets out a surprised snort.

"That so, nurse Eddie?"

"...roleplay?...already?...you change mind quickly..."

"I was joking." Steve rolls his eyes, but Eddie grinds against him again.

"...I would make...a great nurse...I'm very caring...attentive..."

"That so?" Steve quirks his eyebrow, simultaneously telling his brain that he's not going to seek care and attention from the ghost in his apartment.

Though, on the other hand, he doesn't have a Soulmate anyway.

He just wishes there was a waist he could grab onto, a body he could feel, a smile he could see. But as Eddie brings him to completion, he realizes this is all he might be getting from life.

read more

thirst squad tags: @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

[quuerbee]

Just saw a picture of divine dragon chung myung before he got that title and it really hit me how small Cho Sam's body was when chung myung came back. This little thought has spoilers for chapter 400+ (I think anyway) and vague spoilers for everything past ch 400 until like. Ch 800

GOD OK so we as the reader understand chung myungs situation very very intimately. WE understand that he is an 80+ year old man mentally. WE understand that he is not in fact 15, then 17, then 19, 20, etc. Everyone around him, however, truly believe that he is those ages.

It's brushed upon multiple times throughout the novel, especially whenever chung myung is down for the count/recovering after a fight. The facade he makes around himself, the strong reliable leader, fades away and the "truth" of who he is reinstates itself to those close to him in this second life. His back, every time he wavers, is described as small. This is always through the perspective of anyone but himself. This is even more apparent whenever he is unconscious after a serious fight. I don't know exactly chapters, but i KNOW that baek cheon (and the rest of the 5 swords plus soso and hye yeon), at least once, has had the reality of Chung myungs apparent age dawn upon them. That they're youngest sajae (sahyung in soso's case) is constantly spilling his own blood to protect them. (This fact is straight up said by yu iseol after the particularly bad fight with Jang ilso, spitting her frustration with only getting in chung myungs way instead of protecting him).

This phenomenon is hardly limited to the main group of disciples. After the first myriad men siege on Mount hua (while The Gang is in Xian), everyone subconsciously gains courage with the thought that soon enough chung myung will come, that he'll protect them. The disciples (soso being the most prevalent since she's one of the main disciples focused on in the novel) of course correct this thought, realizing that they cannot rely on chung myung forever. Anyways moving on from just describing this arc. What I mainly want to focus on is Hyun jong and chung myungs interaction AFTER the siege is finished, after un gum is fresh off of his amputation, after chung myung has barely gotten treatment for his own (quite serious) injuries.

What do you think when through Hyun jong's mind, seeing his youngest disciple, the one who brought back the hope that had almost died out with his sect, ruthlessly kill the enemy, return heavily wounded, and then try to sneak out almost immediately to go back to smite those who have harmed his home? To us, Chung myung is more than capable. He's the plum blossom sword Saint, the one who (even with all the regret he holds over this) severed the head of the heavenly demon. He's an 80+ year old man trying to protect the only thing besides bloodshed that is familiar in this second life. We understand the guilt he has over not being able to protect his home the first time. We understand that he would rather die than allow Mount Hua to fall again.

Hyun jong does not know this. He does not understand chung myungs rage (and guilt and grief and longing and-). He looks at chung myung and sees an 18 or 19 (I don't remember) year old boy, covered in wounds, trying to sneak out of his home on a suicide mission of revenge. He sees a boy. He knows that if he let's this boy go, he will never see him alive again. So he uses chung myungs borderline (who are we kidding, it is way past borderline) unhealthy loyalty with mount hua to dissuade him from walking to his death.

ANYWAYS long story not so short, I need need need more analysis over what everyone but chung myung thinks about him. Everyone sees this young teen, then young adult, bend over backwards to the point where he has almost died so so so many times just so mount hua can flourish. They've seen him kill ruthlessly, they've seen him sob over the skeleton of an ancestor (one of his brothers, a reminder of what he has lost, what he will never get back), they've seen him silly and carefree, they've seen him almost mad with bloodlust.

To us, he is chung myung, the old plum blossom sword Saint, slayer of the heavenly demon. To them, he is chung myung, the scrawny 15 year old that changed their lives, that faces unknown traumas, that has had a life so, so unkind to him.

Sometimes I look at chung myung pre time skip, how small he is, how he looks like a child, how he acts nothing like one, and remember that only we, the readers, get the full context behind his actions.

[sunsburns]

imagine asking wade if he still likes you when he’s literally inside you LMAOOO I just know he’d be so flabbergasted

i know a normal people fan when i see one (18+, fluff)

but jokes aside, and dicks inside, wade would likely get whiplash; his head turning so fast he can hear a crack in his neck, staring at you like you're crazy because just seconds ago you'd been running your gentle hands over his skin. your fingers brush against the divots of his scarred skin, your cheek pressed to his chest, humming softly, close enough that your lashes tickle whenever you blink.

wade's a little out of breath, sticky with sweat, and miraculously, rendered speechless. to others, a rarity, but with you, while still rare, is more frequent, especially after sex.

sure, he drops a joke or two, but there is a window where wade likes to sit there, holding you, skin against skin, in silence; listening to the sounds of your shaky breaths as you come down from your high, the sounds of the bedsheets ruffling with slow movements from the both of you, even the sounds of the old crackly fan on his ceiling.

and so, in that small window of silence, the two of you lay there in a warm embrace, listening to each other's heartbeats as wade's dick slowly softens inside you.

but then that small window starts to close, the silence breaking with you. you shift, turning to press your chin against wade's chest while looking up at him, "hey," you whisper, a smile growing against your lips.

"hi," he whispers back to you, but he continues to stare at the window, watching the soft light of the rising sun peeking in through the white lace curtains you picked out, a part of you in the dingy apartment he shared with blind al.

"we've officially gone at it all night. fucking like rabbits. and i can't believe i'm saying this but, i'm fucking spent. i might need a few weeks to recover. i asked for a bone and you threw a whole skeleton at me, peanut."

you snort, rolling your eyes, "yeah, right."

"okay, fine, a week is too long." wade hums, he finds your hair and runs his hand over it, twirling a strand around his finger, "i'll be good as new by tonight or at least by the time you scroll to read another fic of me, of course."

you're still staring at him, and wade, ever the observant, notices. he shifts, sits up, holds onto your waist, and brings you up with him. you have to bite your tongue to hold back a moan, sensitive to the way he's touching you, the way his dick keeps you full.

wade raises his brows (or at least, where his brows would be), "what? is there something on my face? i know i'm ugly but i thought we were past that. your staring is making me a little self conscious, sweetbuns."

"wade?"

"yes, cupcake?"

"do you like me?"

"what-?" he stares at you, eyes wide and nearly popping out of his head. "do i- what? what the fuck kind of stupid ass fuck ass question is that? you think i don't like you? we literally fucked all night. literally did every position in the book. i let you peg me! you might be the only person on earth that matches my freak-"

"yeah, i know but-"

"bitch, i'm literally still inside you."

that's when you can't help but laugh, grinning against his neck when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. you love the way his body emits warmth, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer like you want to live inside his skin.

wade holds you, his cheek pressing against the top of your head. and he groans loudly when you say, "you never answered my question."

"oh my god," he huffs dramatically, "of course i fucking like you. like no shit."

"okay, great. i was just making sure."

[jj-one]

STRAY KIDS + WHEN YOU’RE BUSY AND THEY CRAVE YOUR ATTENTION !

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: skz x f!reader genre/tags: smut, fluff, nipple play, fingering, exhibitionism, voyeurism, marking, sexting, sending nudes, piv, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap ur willy), masturbation, oral (f receiving), dry humping, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, spanking, there is probably more but i’m too lazy to write them all words: 4.4k

[note] if you remember seeing this before yes i’m the original author i didn’t plagiarize lol, i made a new blog and was formerly known as @milkychae but deleted a while ago. i’ll be reposting all my old deleted fics and using this as an archive !

BANG CHAN. It was finals week, aka your personal hell. You were always super nervous about tests and if you didn’t score over an 80% that may as well be a failure to you. You sighed as you opened yet another textbook to read, your dickhead professor thought it would be a good idea to pile more homework on top of the fact knowing you all needed to study. Your major was biochemical engineering so you shouldn’t have been too shocked by all this intense workload. As you were sitting on the bed you heard a noise come from the door, looking to the left of you to see Chan coming inside. You don’t really put much thought into it though since you see him literally everyday and you were just really focused on studying right now. That’s when Chan starts to come up behind you, rubbing your shoulders and planting a kiss to your cheek.

“Hiii y/n, I’m back!” He says cheerfully, “I couldn’t wait to see you baby,” he proceeds to try and pry the textbook out of your hands so you can give him your full, undivided attention but you pull it back.

“Sorry babe but I really, really need to study right now.” You tell him with an exhausted look on your face. You’ve been studying for only 2 and a half hours but it feels like the entire day.

Chan looks at you and puts his arm around you, “You look so tired sweetie, why don’t you let me give you a massage?” He asks, already starting by wrapping his hands back on your shoulders.

You loved this man dearly, he just came back home from an 8 hour shift at work but is still offering to give you massages and help you out when you’re stressed. You want to tell him no and that you seriously need to focus back on studying but the intrusive thoughts were slowly winning. Ultimately you gave in to Chan’s desires and he gave you a gentle massage. The massage started off pure at first with no intention of going any further but then his hands slipped a little too far and came in contact with your nipple. He noticed you weren’t wearing a bra underneath so he slips his hand through the opening of your t-shirt, light moans were now leaving your mouth from his touch.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day babe,” Chan softly whispers while pinching your nipples, bringing his other hand down to your thigh and gently caressing it. Chan has always been good at being a distraction for you and his cock is definitely what you need instead of reading about the Principles and Techniques of Molecular Physics.

LEE KNOW. Saturday nights were the best, you had no work and got to do whatever you wanted for the whole day. You weren’t much of an outgoing kind of person so you chose to stay in and have your boyfriend Minho come over and be lazy with you. You were wrapped up in your cozy sherpa blanket watching your favorite kdrama season finale, you and Minho both loved kdramas but you got way too into them. Your eyes have been glued to the show since Minho got there and you only spoke about three sentences to him. He’s sitting on the couch next to you and he’s not as remotely interested in the show as you are, he keeps looking around the room and sneaking glances at you from time to time.

He can’t stop noticing how cute you look today, you were wearing very light makeup and had messy hair. He thought you looked so adorable in your current state, just in awe of your natural beauty. He wraps his arm tightly around you and tries to give you a kiss, but you quickly pull away from him so you can focus back on the TV, not trying to miss anything. Minho gets visibly upset by this, he wants to give you his affection yet you’re currently denying it. He tries one more time to kiss you but you continue to keep pulling away to watch the show. That’s when he decides he’s had enough and grabs the remote to turn off the TV, causing you to get frustrated with him.

“What the hell Minho?!” You say in confusion, you were getting so close to knowing who the girl’s father finally was.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he just starts roughly kissing you, pushing you down on the couch and hovering over your body. He pulls away leaving you breathless, then proceeds to nibble on your earlobe, dragging his tongue further down to lightly suck on your neck, touching a certain spot that makes you inhale sharply. He brings one of his hands to your stomach, rubbing it gently. Beginning to toy with the hem of your sweatpants and wants nothing more than for them to be off.

He was almost going to give in to that idea but a new one came to mind, an even more sinister thought. He grins as he continues rubbing down your thigh, you want him to wipe that smirk off his face so badly because you have no idea what he’s up to. Wondering what he could possibly be thinking about right now. Minho brings his fingers to your clothed heat, sliding them inside the sweatpants and starts rubbing your clit through your panties. You moan for him as you close your eyes, feeling the friction. You buck your hips in the air so you can feel more of him, but Minho grips your hips and holds them firmly in place.

“No, stop. No moving ‘til I say so,” Minho says sternly, giving your clothed pussy a little slap as he looks at you. “Since you’re so willing to ignore me, I get to tell you what to do from now on.”

CHANGBIN. You’ve been cleaning the entire house preparing for your parents to come over for dinner. You wanted to make sure that everything was perfectly spotless and the amount of cleaning you did today could account for your whole lifetime. You were cleaning the stove and just as you were about to grab another clean sponge you see Changbin with a whole box full of donuts from Krispy Kreme.

“How’s it goin’ babe?” Changbin asks while setting the donuts onto the table, he sees you wearing an apron and giant yellow gloves, “looks like you’ve been doing some serious, hard labor!”

“I’ve been cleaning for 5 hours now..” You say with an exhausted look on your face, “I haven’t even finished cleaning the stove yet.”

“Who cares about the stove y/n,” Changbin says, chuckling at your frustration about needing everything to be neat and tidy.

“I’m serious Binnie, I need to clean everything and make sure it’s all perfect!” You tell him while pouting.

“Why don’t you take a break babe.” He suggests out of concern, grabbing your hands to take your gloves off and sets them aside. He slowly brings your body up against the wall behind you, kissing you passionately. He must have been wanting you all day by the way he was hungrily kissing you, the man was sucking on your face for dear life, exploring the depths of your mouth as both your tongues were intertwined. He takes off your apron and grips his hands around your waist while your leg wraps around him, he held you so securely.

As things got more heated, and all your clothes were off, he aligned himself inside you. Your hands were snaked around his neck as you desperately move your hips to feel his cock, feeling every bit of his thrusts in you. Letting out a high-pitched moan as you grab a fistful of his hair and scream his name. Your legs grew weak with each and every stroke Changbin gives you, feeling like you’re going to faint. He continues pounding into you like no tomorrow and you hold tightly onto his shoulders for support. His skin was sticky and sweaty from all the work he’s putting into fucking you, his face looked super focused as he was hitting all the right spots. He was fucking all your stress away at this point and you were feeling so good. You feel yourself coming to your peak as he thrusts into your dripping heat, you’re seeing stars at this point. The harder his strokes were getting, the faster you were to reaching your climax.

“Mmm…gonna cum!” You cry out in pleasure, slowly losing your grip on him as you slip from his grasp. Changbin swiftly picks you up and pins you harder into the wall, making sure you don’t go anywhere by fully pinning his body up against yours. You feel so connected to each other in this very moment as you’re both about to cum, both letting out a string of moans in unison. You both reach your highs together, dizzy as your orgasm washes over you, feeling his cum leaking out of your cunt and dripping down to your leg. You just spent the whole day cleaning and now you have to get cleaned up before your parents come in approximately 30 minutes.

HYUNJIN. It was a long day at work, you were about 6 hours in and you already wanted to end it all. You work at a clothing store and on this particular day for some reason everyone and their mom wanted to come shopping. You’ve been working the register nonstop and you had yet to take a break, you were so busy that you forgot to even take one. You asked one of your coworkers if they could cover for you while you go on lunch and they said yes. You were so excited to finally be able to get to sit down and eat. As you sat in the break room you checked your phone for any missed messages, you see that you have a bunch of missed texts from the new guy you’re seeing. Hyunjin’s name is plastered on your phone and you check the messages straight away, eyes growing wide at what was shown before you. Hyunjin sent you a string of messages:

‘Hey y/n, what’s up?’ [1:15 pm]

‘Imyyy’ [1:25 pm]

‘Wyd? Are you at work?’ [1:42 pm]

‘Yea you’re prob at work :P’ [2:26 pm]

‘I’m a little horny lol’ [2:41 pm]

‘I want youuuu’ [3:02 pm]

He then proceeds to send you a couple shirtless pics of him in bed and a short video of him stroking his erect cock through his boxers. You quickly look around to see if anyone would be able to notice and you don’t see anyone else in the break room besides you. That’s when you open the video fully to see the rest, quickly get turned on as your wetness is only growing. You ran to the bathroom so you can send a photo back, snapping a quick pic of your boobs under your shirt and telling him how wet that video made you at work. You love that he now comes to you for when he feels needy, you like that he craves your attention while you’re gone. He sends you another message saying how much badly he wants to fuck you and he can’t to pick you up from work. You smile at that and tell him you only have 2 more hours to go.

You realize it’s time to get back to work and now all you can think about is that damn video Hyunjin sent you. The way he was stroking his cock all nice and slow made you want to be there to give him even more pleasure. You were walking around all day with wet and sticky panties since you came a little bit from fingering yourself in the bathroom to the video. You couldn’t wait to bounce on Hyunjin’s cock all night after you get off work.

HAN. This was now the fifth dress you tried on and you still haven’t figured out a style you liked yet. You were getting frustrated but you weren’t going to let your pickiness get you down from shopping. You were at the mall with your boyfriend Han and as much as he hated shopping he liked to see you try on the pretty dresses for him so it was a win-win. You go to a different store now and you check out those dresses, making a beeline for the pink ones since that was your favorite color. You check out all the various designs and ask Han which ones he liked best, he didn’t really give much input and just picked the shortest one for you.

You gave him a playful side eye and put the dresses you didn’t like back, heading over to the dressing room so you can try everything on. As you were trying on the dresses, Han was sitting on a bench outside the door, texting all his homies. He soon started to notice how long it’s taking you in there and although you were busy trying on dresses he was getting tired of sitting here and waiting for what seemed like an eternity. He sighs as he figures out what to do, but he ends up deciding to knock on your dressing room door. You don’t reply but he can hear stuff rustling from the inside so he knocks again and tells you it’s just him.

“Uh… I think I need help,” you tell him reluctantly, he’s not sure what you need help with but he comes in anyway. He sees you standing in the dressing room with your hands in the air and the dress halfway up your body, he starts to laugh at how you were stuck in it.

“This isn’t a laughing matter, please help get this damn thing off of me!” You whine, and he begins to unzip the dress from the back, releasing you from its tight grip. You feel like you can finally breathe once again and slip the dress off of you, now completely naked in front of Han. You were only wearing your skimpy g-string and you had your nipples pierced which Han loved about you. He looks you up and down, licking his lips as if he was about to destroy you. The only thought in his head right now was to kiss you, so he grabs your face and crashes his lips into yours, moving some of your hair out the way. You kiss him back but harder and even more passionately, letting him fondle your boobs and play with your piercing. As he toys with your nipples he looks at you with pure lust, his eyes were all hazy and he looked nothing but in love with you. He started kissing your chin and licked the side of your neck, making you get all wet and worked up for him.

“We shouldn’t be doing this right here baby,” you tell Han as he continues roaming all over your body.

“Doesn’t that make you wanna do it even more though?” He says mischievously, sucking on your neck and giving you small hickies. You knew the chances of getting caught were very high but at this moment, you didn’t really seem to care. All you wanted right now was Han and that’s all that was on your mind. His hands slid down between your legs, spreading your pussy lips with his fingers and coating them with your essence. Your wetness was leaking down to your thighs and it took everything in you not to scream from Han’s touch. He inserts two fingers in your tight little hole and goes in and out slowly, you press your lips together trying not to make a sound, so he covers your mouth.

“Shhh… quiet babe,” He whispers into your ear.

FELIX. It’s not secret to Felix that you were a workaholic, you often immersed yourself in your work a little too much. He knows you are an independent woman that enjoys the freedom of working but at the same time he really wishes you’d give that same energy towards him sometimes. You traveled a lot for work and although you two live together, it still puts a strain on your relationship being apart for long periods of times. Felix loves to be around his lover and the fact you are always so busy with work makes him want to shower you with even more love and affection when he sees you. You were gone on another usual business trip but this time it was for a week, that was the longest you’ve gone for work and it was driving him insane. Everyday he thought of you and he would text you little things that he saw randomly throughout the day that reminded him of you. You always appreciated how much Felix adored you and your work ethic, he loved you for you.

The day you came back home from work Felix came to you with open arms, he was more than excited to see you again and all he wanted for the past week was the attention of his beautiful lover.

“I’ve missed you so so much baby,” Felix says whilst giving you the biggest hug, his body was so warm and you melted right into him. You gave him a kiss and he moves you both over to the couch, pulling away from kissing you for a second with a weird grin plastered on his face.

“What’s with that look?” You ask, wondering what he’s thinking in that head of his.

“I got you a little something, I’ll be right back,” he quickly runs to your shared room and comes back with a black box in his hand.

“What’s this?” You ask curiously, holding the box up to examine what it could be.

“Just open it, you’ll be surprised.”

You do as you’re told and open the box, you see a purple velvet bag and you open to see what’s inside. It was a vibrator, it had multiple settings and looked very high quality and expensive. You instantly blushed as you held the item in your hand, looking up at Felix so he can explain what’s going on.

“I wanted to get something to relieve your stress..” he continues “because you’re always so busy and stuff, y’know.”

You smile at the naughty gift your boyfriend gave you, giving him another kiss and thanking him.

“Want to use it on me now?” You ask, knowing that he’ll say yes to you in a heartbeat. Felix’s eyes light up like a kid in a candy store and he agrees without hesitation. He sits next to you on the couch with the toy in his hand and you’re now making out. As one thing leads to another, you end up naked lying on your back with your legs spread wide out for him. He has the toy on one of the highest settings and you’ve squirted about three times for him already.

“Come on baby, you can give me another. Just one more,” Felix says demandingly, having too much fun with this toy.

You spring your head back as you feel the toy in your soaking wet entrance, you don’t know how much more of this you can take. Your legs were violently shaking and the couch was soaked with your juices, you felt like you didn’t have anything left in you. Felix keeps fucking the toy in and out of you making you scream out for him, he palms himself through his pants as he does it.

“I never want you to be away from me again y/n,” Felix’s deep voice rasps as he pumps the toy into you deeper, “I mean it this time.”

SEUNGMIN. You were laughing hysterically as you were scrolling through TikTok, you’ve been glued to your phone for hours at this point. You showed Seungmin, who was sitting next to you on his bed yet another TikTok that he probably wouldn’t think is funny. You put the screen up to his face to show him the video and he looks but doesn’t really seem that interested. You tell him how funny you think the video is and he just shrugs his shoulders.

“You know, I’d rather have you shoved in my face rather than a phone.” Seungmin says to you.

‘Ok boomer’ you think to yourself, not wanting to actually say it incase he gets offended. You decide to just ignore his comment and go back to watching hilarious TikToks. Seungmin starts to get bored and he when he gets bored he becomes bratty. You hear him whine a little bit, looking up from your phone to see him pouting and all you want to do is give him a kiss.

“C’mere,” You command for him to come closer, he quickly does so looking like a lost puppy. He plants a chaste kiss to your lips, then begins to leave a trail of kisses down your neck. He slips a hand under your tank top and lightly squeezes your boob. You sigh as you feel him innocently brush past your nipples, then he trails some more kisses down your stomach. Once he makes his way down to your lower body, he quickly takes off your pants with ease. Teasing your clothed pussy a little bit, watching as a wet spot starts to appear from the outside, he circles your clit and starts to sniff you.

“You smell good baby,” Seungmin compliments, finally taking off your panties and tossing them somewhere on the bed. He kisses the inside of your thighs and feels the warmth of your skin on his lips. He loves every inch of you and he wants to take his time with you. Flicking his tongue on your clit and you hiss at the feeling, you want him to fuck you with his tongue. He licks a nice long stripe across your wet folds, staring up at you while doing so, your phone still in your hand the whole time. Seungmin brought his head up more to face you, “keep looking at your phone while I eat you out babe, pretend like I’m not even here.”

You comply with his instructions, continuing to watch TikToks like normal and Seungmin goes back to devouring your pussy like the good boy he is.

JEONGIN. It was a very nerve wrecking day for you, you were meeting Jeongin’s parents for the first time today. You put on your most expensive Dior perfume and prettiest heels to meet his mom since Jeongin told you she was very into fashion and can tell when girl’s wear cheap perfume. You wanted to impress this woman as much as possible since this was definitely going to be the man you wanted to marry someday. Jeongin reassures you the whole day that she was going to love you regardless,

“Even if you wore perfume from the Dollar Tree she’d still like you!” He tries to give reassurance. You don’t believe that’s true but when you get to his mom’s house you meet her and the rest of his family. His dad was super nice and everyone was very welcoming towards you. You were actually shocked by how chill and laid back everyone was, you felt bad for assuming that they would be mean to you. Jeongin’s mom was the last person you met, when you met her she came off as a little timid but then she started to warming up to you once you started having a lot of things in common.

She was really sweet and super funny, you now know why Jeongin is such a charming guy. You see Jeongin come up to you so he can pull you away from his mom for a bit but his mom brushes him off to tell him she wasn’t finished talking. He walks away with a defeated look on his face and you continue talking with his mom. When the food is ready everyone gathers at the table to eat and you sit beside Jeongin, his mom was across from you both. You were busy for most of the day talking with his family and getting to know everyone. He wanted to be with you but he couldn’t even get the chance, feeling left out in the conversation. You feel your phone vibrate from the table and you pick it up to see who it is, seeing that it’s from Jeongin but you’re confused because he’s sitting right next to you. You turn towards him to ask him why he just texted you but he puts his finger to his mouth to tell you it’s a secret. You place your phone under the table to look at the message,

‘Come meet me in the bathroom upstairs by the laundry room ;)’

You instantly blush from reading that text and try to hide your flustered expression. You look at him and nod your head to signal that you understand. Jeongin shoots his head up and tells his parents who were across the table from him that he needs to be excused to go to the bathroom. You shoot yourself in the foot thinking about what excuse you can come up with so you both don’t look sketchy.

“Sorry please excuse me I have to take this important call for my job,” you quickly say to his parents as you head over to where you’re supposed to go.

You meet Jeongin in the bathroom where he told you to and you went straight to heavily making out. He grabs your ass and spanks it lightly, “How long you think we can be in here before they start to notice?” You ask, his lips now glued to your neck.

“I dunno, I honestly don’t really give a fuck.” He says bluntly, turning you around to face the sink and the mirror, pressing his bulge against your ass. He starts grinding his dick against you slowly, kissing your neck and running his fingers down your body. He lifts up your dress and drags his cock to rub against your clothed cunt, you lowly moan his name and he smiles. He’s about to fuck you so hard against this sink all the while his parents not having a clue where you two went.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Listen. Listen. Hear me out.

I beg you, almighty gator—Gambit(Remy LeBeau) x M/FTM reader(ur choice i like both :)) where reader is a mutant that has some kind of power that has to do with sea monsters, and loves tarot cards so Remy does card tricks for him while reader is in a pool.

When I was a kid I called Gambit “Magic Man” and I had to hold myself back from screaming that in the theater when I was watching D&W a few days ago and revived my non-understandable fanboying of him. (Sorry for the rant)

You can change the fic anyway you want, I’ve got no problem as long as Remy is as silly as he normally is(can evolve into smut or whatever cause I’m freaky like that 😏)

Gracias Gator!!

Remy Lebeau x mutant male reader

Headcanons

I love Remy SO much its insane. I can’t write accents, so it’s there in spirit. Haven’t read the comics, so im basing this off of is wiki. no smut but i had fun writing this.

i loved seeing Remy in the movie, i just wish theyd given him his eyes, you know?

How you two met can be a mixed bag. Maybe you met in the x-men, maybe you met in the thieves guild before every crossing paths with the x-men as a whole, or maybe somewhere completely third. I enjoy the idea of the thieves guild though, so ill go with that.

You both had different reasons for joining or doing what you do, but being two mutants amongst a lot of other non-mutants meant you felt some kind of kinship with each other, even if you didn’t really get along in the beginning.

Especially with you two being visibly mutants. With Remy’s eyes and you having scales on different areas of your body, gills on your sides, what others would refer to as “monster eyes”, so on and so forth.

This resulted in you two preferring to work together when you got the chance, you trained together, ate together, slept together (not like that), so on and so forth. It also meant you two got a very deep understanding of each other over time.

It also meant that Remy got to see just how stupidly powerful you were. In the beginning you just thought your powers involved controlling water and being able to breath underwater. Who’d have thought you could do crazy stuff like controlling typhoons, rain, lightning, so on and so forth, like some kind of biblical being.

This was how you gained the name leviathan. You didn’t really like the name in the beginning, since you hadn’t really picked it yourself and it felt almost insulting with your appearance. But Remy was so supportive you ended up coming to like it, even though it took a long time.

In the end you two split apart as you leave the guild, going your separate ways but still keeping in contact in small but safe ways. With a power like yours it was hard to stay under the radar, and many wanted you on their side, even if it meant by force.

Time passes, Remy joins the x-men, you travel on your own and discover yourself and the world. Remy gets kicked out of the x-men when they learn of his past, you two meet up again and travel together for a while.

Its during this gap in Remy’s place with the x-men that your relationship became something more. He tells you about Rogue, and how he at first thought he loved her, only to realize what he felt for her wasn’t near as strong as what he felt for you.

And of course, during this confession, Remy tries to lay on the charm and act like it isn’t a big deal, but you can easily see through him and notice how anxious he is about it. in the end you just have to grab him and kiss him to shut him up, which yes, does shut him up, but also leads to you guys falling back into the water you’d been sitting by when he lunges at you to kiss you again.

Hes a charming guy yes, Remy has such a way with his words, how he carries himself or how he touches you. But underneath all that he also cares so deeply, to the point of being willing to die for you or those he cares about, which makes you lose scales from stress at times.

So, if you place protection spells on him that you got from the deepest part of the sea by the people who have started to worship you like a god, then only you have to know. That Namor guy is pretty swell, when he isn’t being a bit arrogant. He even taught you how to use a spear, so you guys are kinda brothers in spirit now.

At some point Remy does return to the x-men, somewhere you don’t feel ready to join him yet. So, a lot of kisses are shared, and a few tears a shed. And yes, of course you give him jewelry made from your scales. And a dagger made out of your larger teeth when you transform into a more serpentine form, because yes, you can also do that.

Remy doesn’t feel much need to tell the x-men about his relationship. Sure, he keeps flirting but that’s just because that’s how he is. But it never goes further than that. Some of the members that can read minds know about it though, since he thinks about you regularly.

In the end the relationship is exposed when the x-men find themselves in quite the pickle near the ocean. And Remy, knowing he can get them the upper hand, is able to snap one of the sigils you placed on him.

Rip to whoever they were fighting, since the sea lashes out and swallows them whole, followers by a giant feral looking sea serpent, you, rise from the water. Yes, you teleported there. What else were you supposed to do? You thought your boy was in danger!

Cue the x-men just being stunned or confused when Remy calls out the cheesiest pet names, almost kicking his feet in happiness at seeing you. It makes a bit more sense when you transform into a more human form, it still takes some explaining though.

In the end you don’t end up fully joining the x-men. You doing that would place them under a lot more danger than usual, since you had your own enemies and alliances, and you’re pretty sure Namor would get butthurt if you did. But you become something of an ally. Which means you hang out on Krakoa on the regular.

It becomes a very regular sight to see a giant serpent lazily swimming around the island, or resting half on the beach as Remy sits and shows you his different tarot readings. Of course, you also spend time together with you in a more human form, but seeing such a big sea monster also makes any baddies keep a distance.

There are also of course pools set up on the island, not just for you, but they’re accessible for you as well. Remy is regularly seen in the pool with you, or just sitting with his feet in as you two talk or whatever else you guys do.

You end up becoming something of a swim instructor to the youngest mutants, or just those that can’t swim in general. This is something Remy finds extremely entertaining and he’s always teasing you about it. luckily its easy to shut him up with a kiss, or by knocking him into the pool. Or both. He doesn’t mind.

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

hii!

you you write a fic about jude and the reader being married and they’re thinking about starting to expand their family and maybe a time skip where she tells him she’s pregnant! i was thinking fluffy with a tiny bit of angst with the reader being nervous about pregnancy.

SURPRISE

jude bellingham x wife!reader

warnings: a bit of angst, do not read the summary and pregnancy...

summary: You and your boyfriend are toying with the idea of ​​starting a family. Although you're excited, anxiety sets in when a positive pregnancy test comes back a couple of months later. Trying to find a good way to tell Jude, he finds out in the most unexpected one possible.

The early morning sun streamed through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow across the bedroom. The faint hum of life outside echoed as birds chirped, signaling the start of a new day. Jude stirred beside you, his arm draped casually over your waist, and you smiled, savoring the warmth of his presence. Even after being married for a few years, waking up next to him felt like a luxury you never took for granted.

You turned in his embrace, nuzzling your face into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne still lingering on his skin. He stirred, pulling you closer, his voice a low, sleepy mumble.

“Morning, beautiful,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Morning," you murmured back, turning your head to look at him. His hair was slightly messy, giving him an even more relaxed and endearing look. You reached up to gently touch his hair, and he caught your hand, pressing another soft kiss to your palm.

There was something different about this morning. Maybe it was the stillness, or the fact that you both had the whole day ahead with no obligations. But the air felt thick with unsaid words, thoughts hanging in the quiet.

Jude shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you, his face still soft with sleep. His big brown eyes studied you with affection. He could always tell when something was on your mind.

“You okay?” he asked, concern creeping into his voice as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You seem… I don’t know.”

You bit your lip, nervousness fluttering in your chest. How do you even begin this conversation? It’s not that you hadn’t talked about it before—it had come up in passing, as something you’d both one day wanted. But it had always been vague, floating somewhere in the future. Now, though, the thought of starting a family felt more real. More present.

Jude tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing playfully as he pretended to scrutinize you. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?”

You exhaled, laughing softly, and decided to just go for it. He was your husband, after all—your best friend. There was no one you trusted more.

“I’ve been thinking…” you started slowly, watching his face closely for any sign of what he might be thinking. “About us… and about maybe starting a family.”

Jude’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but his expression immediately softened into something warm and tender. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his hand gently rubbing your back as he leaned in a little closer.

“Yeah?” he asked softly, his voice full of affection. “You’ve been thinking about that?”

You nodded, heart racing a little as you gauged his reaction. “I know we’ve talked about it before, but I don’t know… lately it’s been on my mind more. Like maybe when might be the right time to… you know… expand our little family?”

Jude was quiet for a moment, processing your words. You felt your stomach twist slightly with nerves—what if he wasn’t ready yet? What if he had different plans?

But then he grinned—a grin that lit up his entire face, the kind of grin that had made you fall in love with him all those years ago. His hand slid up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin as he leaned down to kiss you gently, the kiss filled with so much love that it made your heart swell.

“I’ve been thinking about it too,” he admitted, his voice slightly hushed, like he was sharing a secret. “I didn’t want to pressure you or anything, but… I love the idea. Starting a family with you? That’s something I’ve dreamed about.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, relief flooding your chest. “You have?”

“Of course,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I mean, I want to be able to look back on our lives and see little versions of us running around, causing chaos. I want to be the kind of dad that embarrasses them at football games because I’m cheering too loud. And I want to go through all of that with you.”

His words made you smile like a fool, a mix of happiness and nerves, the weight of this decision hitting you fully. You loved Jude more than anything in the world, but the thought of becoming a parent—it was both exciting and terrifying at the same time.

“I’m nervous,” you confessed quietly, and Jude’s expression softened further.

“I know, me too,” he said, pulling you even closer. “It’s a big step. But we’ll do it together. And if we’re not ready yet, that’s okay too. We’ll go at our own pace, like we always do.”

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest, the warmth of his embrace calming your racing heart. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered into your hair, holding you tightly. “Whenever we’re ready, it’ll be perfect.”

Three months later, the sound of laughter filled the room as you sat on the plush couch in Luz Mendez’s living room, sipping iced tea as you chatted about everything and nothing. Luz was Brahim’s girlfriend and you two had become very close over the past few years, bonded by your shared experiences of being in the world of football. She was one of your best friends and you couldn’t be luckier to have her in your life.

Luz was effortlessly funny, always making you laugh with her quick wit and contagious energy. But today, you weren’t your usual self. You could feel it—the way your stomach fluttered nervously, the way your hands shook slightly as you reached for your drink.

You were waiting.

“Are you okay?” Luz asked, her brows furrowed as she noticed your sudden quietness. “You’ve been a little off all day.”

You swallowed, glancing toward the small box inside your purse. The pregnancy test. The one you’d bought on a whim earlier that morning, unable to shake the feeling that something was different.

“I… I think I might be pregnant,” you admitted softly, your voice trembling with nerves.

Luz’s eyes widened, a mixture of excitement and surprise flashing across her face. “Wait, what? Seriously? Have you taken the test yet?”

You shook your head. “No. I’ve been too scared to do it, but I´ve bought it this morning...”

Luz reached over, squeezing your hand in reassurance. “Hey, so what are you waiting for? Go to the bathroom and take it. You won't be calm until you do it. You have nothing to worry about, I'll be here for you." She saw you hesitate, and spoke again. "You’re going to be fine. Whatever it says, you’ve got this. And Jude is going to be over the moon, I bet.”

Taking a deep breath, you stood up, grabbing the box and heading to the bathroom. You couldn’t avoid it any longer.

The bathroom was too quiet as you stood in front of the sink, staring down at the small, white plastic stick in your hand. You blinked, trying to process what you were seeing.

Two pink lines.

Positive.

Your heart raced as panic slowly crept in. You were pregnant. Yes, you really wanted to be a mother, to start a family with Jude, but suddenly, doubts began to gnaw at you, making the room feel smaller, almost suffocating. The weight of it all settled in—this wasn't just a dream anymore. Now, it was a reality.

"Oh my God," you whispered to yourself, feeling the world tilt slightly. How were you going to tell Jude? Would he be excited? Nervous like you? How were you supposed to feel?

You were happy, of course. But also terrified. A rush of emotions you weren’t prepared for.

A knock at the bathroom door startled you out of your thoughts.

"Hey, you alright in there?" Luz´s voice echoed through the hallway. Now she was the only person who could possibly help calm your frazzled nerves.

Opening the door with shaky hands, you stepped out, the test hidden behind your back. Luz took one look at your face and her eyes widened.

"Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Without a word, you handed her the pregnancy test, watching her expression transform from worry to pure bliss.

"Oh my God," she gasped, glancing between you and the test. "Is this positive?"

You nodded slowly, feeling a little overwhelmed by the situation. "I… I think so. I didn’t expect it to happen so fast."

Luz let out a breathless laugh, throwing her arms around you. "Holy heaven! This is huge! Why aren’t you freaking out more? Wait, are you freaking out?"

You groaned, pulling back slightly. "Luz, I’m totally freaking out. I don’t even know how to tell Jude. I nean, we´ve talked about this before a few times, but... What if he freaks out? What if I’m not ready?"

Luz squeezed your hands, her excitement dimming into a more supportive tone. "Hey, deep breaths. This is big, yes, but you and Jude are solid. You guys love each other more than anything. You’re going to be amazing at this."

You nodded, trying to believe her. But the nerves still buzzed beneath the surface.

"I just… I don’t want to mess this up," you murmured. "What if he can’t handle it? What if I—”

“Stop,” Luz said firmly, cutting off your spiral of worries. “Jude loves you. He’s going to be so happy, over the moon even. And it’s okay to be nervous—this is a big deal. But you’ve got each other. You’ve got this.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. Luz had a way of making things seem less scary, more manageable.

"Okay," you whispered, more to yourself than to her. "Okay. I can do this."

"You can do this. And you know what? You’re going to rock it."

With one last deep breath, you tucked the pregnancy test back into your pocket, glancing at Luz. "I guess I better figure out how to break the news, huh?"

You’d spent the entire afternoon trying to come up with the perfect way to break the news to him, something special and memorable. But every idea seemed to fall flat. Should you wait until dinner? Slip a tiny pair of baby shoes into his bag? Or should you just come out and say it? The more you thought about it, the more unsure you became.

The sound of the front door opening startled you from your thoughts. Jude was home from training, his usual cheerful voice calling out, “Babe, I’m back!”

Panicking, you quickly tried to act natural. You had wanted this to be a surprise, but now you weren’t sure you could pull it off.

Jude walked into the living room, giving you a smile before heading toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a quick shower, then we can do something together, yeah?”

You nodded, barely able to speak. “Yeah, sounds good.”

As soon as he disappeared into the bathroom, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Maybe you could buy some time, think of something clever before he got out of the shower. But just as you were about to head into the kitchen, you heard his voice from the bathroom.

“Babe?”

Your stomach flipped. “Tell me.”

There was a pause, and then the door opened. Jude stepped out, holding the pregnancy test in his hand, a look of shock on his face. “Is this… what I think it is?”

Your heart dropped. How could you be so absent-minded? “Oh my god, I—Jude, I was going to tell you. I just… I didn’t know how.”

For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the test in his hand, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. Your anxiety spiked, wondering if this was too much too soon.

But then, Jude’s face broke into the biggest grin you had ever seen. He crossed the room in a heartbeat, wrapping you in a tight hug, spinning you around as he laughed. “You’re pregnant! We’re having a baby!”

His excitement was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh too, the tension and anxiety melting away as he held you close. He kissed you, his joy spilling over into every word. “I can’t believe it! We’re actually going to be parents.”

Tears of relief filled your eyes as you looked up at him, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. “I was so nervous about telling you. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Jude chuckled, his forehead resting against yours. “Well, I assure you that I didn't expect it at all.”

You couldn’t help but grin at his enthusiasm, his excitement washing over you like a wave of pure joy. You reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently brushing his cheek. “Well, considering how much we’ve been… you know…” You raised an eyebrow playfully, a smirk tugging at your lips. “I guess it’s not that surprising that our unbridled sexual activities have these kinds of outcomes.”

Jude’s eyes widened for a split second before he let out a deep laugh, pulling you even closer to him. “Oh, so that’s what we’re calling it now? Unbridled activities?” He shook his head, still grinning. “You make it sound so… noble.”

You laughed, the tension that had been sitting in your chest for the entire afternoon finally dissolving completely. “Well, it does have a certain regal quality to it, don’t you think? But I mean, what did we expect? You don’t get to have that much fun without consequences.”

Jude chuckled again, his hands resting on your hips, his thumbs gently rubbing circles against your skin through your shirt. “Consequences, huh? Well, if this is the result, I’d say we’ve done pretty well for ourselves.”

You let out a soft laugh, the nerves from earlier now completely replaced with warmth and happiness. “Yeah, we’ve done pretty well,” you echoed, your fingers lightly trailing along the back of his neck. “But seriously, Jude, I’m still a little… I don’t know. Nervous. I mean, this is huge.”

Jude’s expression softened as he looked into your eyes, his voice dropping to a gentle, reassuring tone. “Of course it’s huge, but we’re in this together, okay? I’ve got you. You’ve got me. We’re going to figure it out—every step of the way.”

You nodded, feeling the full weight of his words. His unwavering support, his love—it made everything feel so much easier, even the parts that felt overwhelming. “I know we will,” you whispered, smiling up at him. “I’m really excited. Scared, but excited.”

He smiled back, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Me too. But mostly excited.”

You both stood there for a moment longer, wrapped in each other’s arms, basking in the shared realization that your lives were about to change in the most incredible way.

Then, with a playful glint in his eye, Jude leaned in close, his voice a low murmur. “So… I guess we should cool it with our activities for now.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you swatted his arm. “Not a chance, Bellingham. You know I’m not that easily deterred.”

He grinned, his laughter mixing with yours as he pulled you closer once again. “We´ll see.”

“I love you,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I can’t wait to do this with you.”

Jude smiled down at you, his hand still resting on your belly. “I love you too, so much. And I promise, no matter how many surprises come our way, we’ve got this.”

[temporarywelcome]

Home Run - Spencer Reid

Wordcount: 2.6k

Summary: The FBI's baseball team needs a fill in for their game against the Secret Service, Morgan being able to convince Reid to take up the role. However, the boy genius does not have an athletic bone in his body, Morgan recruiting the genius' girlfriend to help.

Warnings: some swearing, Spencer is like a baseball magnet

A/N: my inbox is open! Currently working on my first request right now, and will hopefully have it posted tomorrow! This also can 100% be read as a standalone, though it's kind of a continuation of my first Spencer fic "Smooth Criminal". All information needed is in this fic as well though! ok ill stop yapping

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

It might have been the worst day of Spencer’s life. 

Trudging along the field as sweat trickled down his neck and back, the sun beaming down at his pale, vulnerable skin. His tongue was dry, throat closing in on him. He could see spots clouding his vision. 

This wasn’t good.

“Jesus, Reid, we just got out of the car,” Morgan chuckled, hitting Spencer’s back, “This isn’t a desert,”

It wasn’t a desert, it was actually a baseball field. Which was just as bad to the boy genius. 

“You couldn’t ask Hotch or Rossi to do this?” Spencer mumbled nervously, eyeing the field as if some jock baseball player was going to come out of the dug out and murder him. 

“You’re young. Nice and nimble. Lots of potential-”

“They said no?”

“Yes, they said no,” Morgan sighed, placing down his bag on a bench in the dug out. Spencer did the same, awkwardly looking around once again. “Look, it’s only for one day,” 

“One day too many,” 

Morgan shot him a look, taking out his baseball glove and a ball, “We’ll start simple with some catching and throwing, yeah?” 

“This is so embarrassing,” Reid grumbled, grabbing his glove as well (which he has never used before, just buying it this morning). 

“Did you break it in like I told you to?”

He shook his head, “I got it two hours ago…”

Another sigh left his friend, who walked out into the disgusting sun. Spencer hesitantly followed.

And within fifteen minutes, Spencer was laid out on the ground in a starfish position, his life flashing before his very eyes. He thought this was the end.

“Shit! Reid! Reid!” Morgan sprinted towards the young genius, crouching next to his still figure, “Are you okay?” he touched Spencer’s cheek, already starting to turn red after connecting with the ball. 

“Shit, that hurts!” Spencer hissed, slapping Morgan’s hand away. The first sign of life. He slowly sat up, cradling his cheek, “I feel concussed,” his other hand went to the back of his head. 

“Be for real,” Derek muttered in worry, “It’s that bad?” Spencer had quite a low pain tolerance, so neither of them could tell how bad this really was. “I mean, you almost passed out just being in the sun.”

“I could feel my cells mutating,” 

“Let’s hope you’re just being dramatic,” 

_________________

Luckily for them, Spencer was being dramatic, and was back to normal activity the day after.

Like most days, his girlfriend, Y/N, drove into the bureau parking lot and parked, waiting for Spencer to get out of work. She was reading sheet music for her next show when there’s a knock on their window, making her gasp, snapping her head in the direction of her window.

Derek Morgan.

With a sigh, she pressed the button, window inching down slowly, “What the fuck was that for?”

Morgan laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck, “Sorry, Y/N. I know Spencer is trying desperately to keep you away from the team, especially after the fiasco last time we saw you, but…”

Ah, yes. Last time. Y/N and Spencer have been dating for a year, but he has kept the relationship extremely secretive from his team, until Garcia was able to finally crack the case and find pretty much everything to know about her, discovering she was a diagnosed kleptomaniac. The team (minus Hotch, who was peacefully in his office during the whole ordeal) was completely eager to meet this kleptomaniac girlfriend, and Y/N had a) admitted to not being able to pronounce JJ’s last name, and b) stole Rossi’s keys.

Yeah, Spencer wanted his girlfriend and friends far, far away from each other. 

“I really need your help.” Morgan finished.

“With what?” She asked in curiosity.

“I don’t mean to creep you out, but when Garcia did her whole ‘background check’ on you, or whatever you would want to call it, she found you used to play softball?”

“Yes, I’ve played since I was five,” She confirmed with a nod, “Still do, occasionally,”

“Well, the FBI has this little team I play on, and next weekend we’re going against the secret service, but we’re short one player, one of us has an injury. I convinced Spencer to fill in,” he noticed Y/N’s shocked expression, “Yeah, I know. I convinced him to fill in, really because no one else wanted to, and we went to practice yesterday-”

“Oh, yes! He’s got a huge bruise on his cheek, he said it was from some special training though,” Y/N laughed, “I guess he was embarrassed. He was hit by a ball?”

“Yes, he was on the grass fifteen minutes into our practice. It’s bad. He doesn’t even want to practice anymore, but I need him for that game. We haven’t beaten the secret service in years.”

“So you want me to convince him?” She concluded.

“Not just that. Maybe he’ll be more willing to learn if you’re also there to teach him?” 

“Hm,” 

Derek frowned, “Please, Y/N?”

She playfully narrowed her eyes at him, “How much?”

“What?”

“How much did you bet on this game?”

“Oh,” he awkwardly cleared his throat, “Five hundred,”

“Damn,” she whistled, “We gotta whip Spencer into shape,”

___________________

Spencer loved Y/N.

He loved her dearly.

However, right now he hated her with a burning passion.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Morgan asked as Spencer ran from home to first base. “What if this just makes him quit again?”

She had Spencer running laps. “He won’t.”

He only did two runs around the diamond before he came back to them, panting dramatically, hands on his knees, “Why… why do I have to… do this?” he gasped.

“Because, drama king, when you hit that ball, which you will, you need to be able to get to the bases on time,” Y/N replied, handing him a bottle of water.

“This is hopeless,” he began to carefully sip the water, not wanting to choke in his desperation for hydration. 

“We just started, baby” Y/N sighed, rubbing his back, “Now, c’mon, break’s over. Two more laps and we’ll practice catching and throwing,”

“I hate you,” Spencer huffed, handing the water back to her. However, he went back to running. 

“I love you too, darling,” Y/N rolled her eyes with a soft laugh. She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled as he clumsily ran along the diamond. 

Morgan glanced at her, “Thanks for this.”

“Of course. I love seeing Spencer suffer,” She joked with a chuckle, watching her lanky boyfriend move. He was so cute, despite the fact he looked incredibly pissed off. She sighed, soft smile on her lips, “I know you guys are all probably iffy about me, but… I do love him. Genuinely, I do.” 

Morgan’s lips curled up, “I know.”

Spencer finished his second lap, looking at Y/N and Morgan with an annoyed expression, “Okay,” he panted, “I did it. Now what?”

“Catching and throwing,” Y/N slipped on her glove, grabbing a ball, “Alright, we’ll start with the basics.”

“How hard can it be?” Spencer said, putting on his glove (which Y/N had broken in for him). 

“Eh, best not talk, you might end up with two bruised cheeks,” Morgan chuckled, nudging him. He was not amused.

“Alright,” Y/N began, “When you throw the ball to someone, you have to aim for the other person’s chest. As a beginner, you can practice by using the hand you’re not throwing with, so the gloved hand, to aim. Like this,” Y/N faced Morgan, holding out her gloved hand and throwing with the other. Morgan caught the ball with ease. “See?” Morgan threw the ball back at her the same way, which she caught. “You try.” She tossed the ball to Reid, who was, like, two feet away.

He fumbled the ball, scrambling for it as it landed on the ground. Once it was in his hand, he stood up awkwardly. Spencer got into position, following Y/N’s instructions. He threw the ball to Morgan, it landed a few feet in front of him.

“You’re releasing it too late,” Y/N explained, “Try again”

Once the ball was in his hand again, he took a deep breath, throwing it again. It flew way past Morgan’s head this time.

“Okay, at least you got a strong throw,” Y/N said, trying to stay positive, “Now you released it a little too early. We’re getting somewhere. Try again.”

A few tries later, the trio went on to catching. It ended with Spencer thrown onto the grass once again in a starfish position, Y/N and Morgan both running to his side. 

“Well, now your cheeks match,” she said, making Spencer groan. 

They decided to end the fieldwork, getting Spencer to bat next. He had a helmet on and everything, determined to not actually get concussed. 

“Alright, baby,” Y/N began, handing him the bat, “Knees shoulder-width apart. Bend your knees slightly. This elbow up,” she gently touched his arm, bringing up his elbow, “Keep your eye on the ball. The ball should be chest-height when thrown to you. If it’s a bad pitch, don’t swing.” 

Morgan goes to pitch, Reid’s brows furrowed as he eyed the ball. 

“Hold on,” Y/N stopped him, “I can see the gears turning in your head. No calculations, none of that smart boy stuff. Just put on a mean face, spit in front of you, and hit that home run.”

“Spit?” Spencer gasped, “That’s disgusting.”

“It works,” Y/N shrugged.

“I’m not doing that,” he deadpanned, making her giggle. He faced Morgan, a determined look on his face. “Let’s do this,” 

“Hell yeah, baby,” Y/N grinned. 

With a grin, Morgan pitched the ball to Spencer, who grunted, swinging the bat as hard as he can.

Losing his grip in the process, the bat flying through the air. 

__________________

A week had passed, game day approaching fast. The BAU all sat together to cheer on Spencer and Morgan, Y/N awkwardly with them. Garcia was friendly enough, yapping away, which caused Y/N to yap away as well.

Until it was Spencer's turn to bat. 

Y/N rushed to the fence, clapping, “You got this, baby!” He turned his head and gave her a look that resembled a deer caught in headlights. Prior to the game, she said she won't embarrass him. She had to promise it, because he knew how competitive she was.

Spencer gave her a thumbs up, going to the home plate and getting into position.

“Bend those knees, baby,” Y/N called. Members of the secret service glanced at each other smugly, making her scowl.

Spencer did as told, eyeing the ball nervously. The pitcher was a mean-looking guy with a vicious bulldog expression. He pitched the ball, and Spencer squeaked, swinging at nothingness as the ball flew past him.

“Nice try, baby, nice try!” Y/N said. He turned his head to glare at her, before looking back at the pitcher. “Oops,” she said, making Garcia giggle.

Spencer ended up striking out, incredibly embarrassed. He had a girlfriend coaching him at the stands and a team that was completely pissed at his inability to even catch the ball. He was humiliated.

Until he turned his head, seeing Y/N, camera in hand, taking pictures of him with a huge smile on her face. She grinned, doing a finger heart, and Spencer felt his spirits lift slightly, raising his hand and doing one back at her.

And then a ball went flying into his abdomen. 

After that setback, the FBI was back to batting. Morgan landed on third, this guy Ron at second. The FBI was at two outs already, losing to the secret service by one point. 

And it was Spencer's turn to bat.

He heard some other agents groan from the dugout, making him feel like absolute shit. As he trudged to the home plate, the secret service members were all chuckling to themselves, already knowing they won another year in a row. 

Spencer felt awful.

Then he passed Y/N. She had a determined look on her face as she stood in front of the fence. “Baby, he's a shitty pitcher. Don't swing at every pitch.” 

Spencer took a deep breath, nodding. “O-Okay.”

She cracked a smile, “You got this. Make them cry. I already don’t like them.”

He laughed, nodding and going to the home plate. Morgan nodded from third, and Spencer clenched his fists around the bat.

Putting on a mean face, he gathered the courage to spit, staring at the pitcher straight in the eye (who looked a tad bit grossed out). He planted his feet shoulder width apart, bent those damn knees, had that elbow raised.

The pitcher threw his first ball, and as instinct, Spencer swung, missing. He cursed under his breath.

“Chin up, baby, chin up!”

Spencer turned his head to Y/N, who was smiling wide. Then his team, all cheering for him in the stands. His family.

The pitcher threw again but Spencer got himself, not swinging the bat.

“Good job, baby, that pitch sucked!” Y/N said proudly. She paused, “I mean, it didn't suck…”

“We're going to get kicked out,” Rossi muttered to Hotch, who chuckled softly in agreement.

The ball went to Spencer again, and this time, with a low growl, he swung hard, bat connecting with the ball and sending it flying.

Everyone gasped, watching the ball descend into the air, until Y/N shouted, “RUN!”

Spencer snapped out of his trance, bolting towards first base while Derek sprinted towards home. Once at first, Y/N shouted for him to keep going, and so he did, rushing to second.

Longues burning, he dashed for home, throwing himself onto the plate.

And saving the game.

The FBI erupted into cheers, everyone rushing towards him and hauling him to his feet, slapping him on the back and shouting in joy. After a few hollers, Spencer was lifted off of his feet, laughing excitedly after their victory.

Once the crowd dispersed, Spencer immediately ran to Y/N who was waiting for him, a big grin on her face. She already had her arms open, which he dove into.

“You saw that, right?!” Spencer asked her, practically vibrating in eagerness.

“I did! I told you spitting works!”

He was pretty sure the spitting had nothing to do with it, but he didn't argue. “I can’t believe I made a home run!” He pulled away to greet his team, but Y/N stopped him.

“Jesus, baby, you’re lucky you didn't trip. How embarrassing that would have been,” She chuckled, gesturing to his untied sneakers. She kneeled down, tying them for him.

Prentiss, who was still sitting with the rest of the BAU, noticed the exchange from the corner of her eye.

Maybe Y/N wasn't too bad.

When Y/N finished tying his shoes, she stood up and kissed his rosy cheeks, red in embarrassment. She then patted his back and nodded, silently telling him to go to his team.

With a grin, Spencer rushed off to them, babbling about his hit.

_______

A few weeks had passed, and Y/N was with some friends at a softball field, getting ready for a game. Slipping on her glove, she turned her head, smiling at Spencer who was seated at the bleachers. He waved, and that's when she noticed Derek and Penelope were sitting next to him.

Y/N's eyes widened and she grinned, waving back at them.

Then, surprising her even more, Emily Prentiss took a seat with them.

It seemed that, little by little, Y/N was winning over the BAU.

[threestarsinline]

Children's Books and Leather Jackets (Part I)

Jason Todd x reader one-shot

Summary: You couldn't love your job more. Or at least, that's what you thought, until Jason Todd started coming into the bookshop every week without fail, like clockwork. And then you form a connection that tilts your whole world on its axis.

Word Count: 13.6K (total of 29.2K)

Category: Lots and lots of fluff. Like, LOTS (plus some mutual pining, idiots in love, slow burn? and friends to lovers, and therefore, what all of that entails, mwah)

Warnings: Jason stealing your heart (and you stealing his)

Author’s note: Well, here's the proof that yes, I was writing hehehe. Anyway, enjoy this monster of a two-part fic, peace and love babes

>Part II

You loved your job. You really truly did. It might seem like a bold statement to make but when you spend your day to day in a quiet, lovely and vintage styled bookshop owned by the most wonderful couple of old people that you have ever met, who also treat you as their own granddaughter, you know that you could have it a lot worse in Gotham. You often forget that they are technically your bosses, or co-workers as they always corrected you when you referred to them as such.

Rose and Jimmy hired you a long time ago now, when they weren’t able to run the bookshop fulltime by themselves anymore due to the rise of popularity of the place (even though the customers were still just a close community of people from the neighborhood). And also because, after decades of running the bookshop, they wanted to finally kind of retire and do a few travels to places they wanted to see or visit their children scattered throughout the country.

So there you were, practically running all by yourself a small but successful business each week.

However, you weren’t bothered at all, it was perfect for you: working alone with no annoying co-workers or stressful deadlines, a flexible schedule since Rose and Jimmy would replace you here and there whenever you needed it and giving you free days out of the blue. 

It also didn’t hurt that the job allowed you to stay in touch with the thing that you loved the most: books. Pages, full of stories that could transport you anywhere, to any time. Words, creating characters that became your family and made you laugh while also breaking your heart with their tragedies. And the possibility of sharing all of this with the people who came into the bookshop from all kinds of different backgrounds made it all even better.

Let’s just say that you couldn’t believe your luck when you got this job. Your day to day consisted of, among other things, attending customers, organizing the bookshelves, doing inventory and most of all: reading. There were certain moments of the day in which the shop was quite uneventful so you would seize those moments by doing all the reading that you could.

You really thought that you couldn’t love your job more. But that was until a gorgeous and very mysterious young man with a white streak in his hair started coming every week into the shop and giving you a smile every time that he left. 

You got it bad.

And your crush on Jason Todd did nothing but increase. You were sure that that man was going to be the death of you.

The first time that Jason walked into the bookshop you were surprised to say the least. You had never seen him in the shop before yet he walked towards a section in the bookshelves of the back with firm and secure steps.

He came back to the register with three children’s books to check out. That surprised you even more. He certainly didn’t look like the type of person that you would expect to get children’s books. He had a rough appearance with his tall frame, dark hair and (fake) leather jacket.

But he was nothing but polite as he greeted you and handed you his bookshop card.

The shop also acted as a library with several books, Rose and Jimmy having implemented the idea after there was an attack at the public library that left the place in reforms for months.

It also allowed the people who couldn’t buy books that regularly to still be able to have new books since you only had to pay for the card when you first got it and pay the small fee for the membership every two months. Or every month if you wanted more perks like extended loans or not having a limit on the amount of books allowed to be checked out.

Most of that money was also directly donated to different causes in Gotham like orphanages and homeless shelters. The community loved Rose and Jimmy for all of that, it was like they were their guardian angels, some customers had told you that they were godsent. 

As you proceeded to scan the books that the mysterious young man had brought you, you realized that his card was fairly new and came to the conclusion that Rose must have given it to him the week before, when you had your free day. 

“Do you have The Rainbow Fish? I tried to look for it but I couldn’t find it.” He spoke up and you looked up at him, surprised once more, since most people either loved or hated that book.

“Uhm. If it’s not on the shelf, it must have been checked out. Let me see.” You looked it up on the computer. “Yeah, someone took it a few days ago. We should have it by next week, I can keep it in reserve for you if you’d like.” The information seemed to please him since his face lighted up and he let out a sigh of relief.

“That would be great, thank you.”

“No problem. Have a nice day.” You gave him back the books and his card and as you looked at him you realized that he had a very nice smile. You wondered if he would come back often to the bookshop. 

“You too.” He said as he opened the door.

And in fact, he did come back to the bookshop rather often, at least once a week and always looking for children’s books. You were very curious about it since it wasn’t very common to see a man like him taking so many children’s books with him.

You couldn’t help but speculate, maybe he was close with kids in his family or maybe he did some kind of volunteering. Either way, you weren’t going to ask, it was out of place and you didn’t know him. 

Then, he started checking out other books, this time fiction and most of all classic literature. He sometimes even bought the ones that really brought out his attention. He would always strike up friendly conversation with you as he came to the counter with new books to buy or check out, asking you about some book or asking you for recommendations.

On your most brave days, not really knowing what you were doing, you would even make a comment about the books that he was taking with him and he answered you with enthusiasm, commenting on them with you.

Soon, you were on a first name basis with him and something similar to a friendship blossomed between you two. You started giving snippets of each other's lives, you telling him about a show that you were watching that you really liked or him telling you about one of his siblings’s latest shenanigans.

Jason coming into the shop became something that you looked forward to and Rose and Jimmy, who some days spend the day in the shop helping you out, also saw how close you two were becoming.

Jason even befriended them too and the owners soon treated him like a grandson just like they had done with you so long ago. Jimmy sometimes shoved in his hand his famous homemade cookies and Rose tried to give him a discount for the books that he bought but Jason, like always, refused to accept it. 

“What? You’re supposed to leave them inside, it’s on the delivery contract.” You add frustrated.

“Whatever you say. Not my problem.” The new delivery man doesn’t even look at you as he recklessly puts the last of the boxes of new book orders on the sidewalk.

Looking at the now damaged box you grimace. You really hoped that the books inside were okay. They were like your babies.

The man takes his cigarette out of his mouth and puts it out on top of one of the boxes knowingly, looking you dead in the eyes as if challenging you to say something else.

You know that starting a confrontation would get you nowhere, it would be better to file a complaint later that you know would have consequences for him since the delivery service and the bookshop had always had a trusting relationship.

So, knowing to pick your battles, you put on a smile and thank him. The man seems surprised at that, surely used to having excuses to play the bully. He just huffs, gets on the truck and leaves. You nod to yourself proudly, you won. But your small, triumphant moment ends as soon as you see the large number of boxes that you now have to carry inside on your own. 

Oh, how you missed Charlie.

Charlie was the delivery man before he retired. It had been his job for more than fifty years and even now he was as strong as ever and he had always helped you with the boxes and made you laugh with his adventures from his younger years. 

You always gave him a cup of coffee from the machine in the small back room that worked as a break room as he tried to set you up with his grandchildren. Telling you how amazing they were and how one of them was about to become a doctor.

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m sure they’re great.” You would always tell him. Because they did sound nice but none of them lived in Gotham. Charlie then would fake a disappointed sigh but the crinkles of a smile around his eyes would always appear.

“Well, let me know if you change your mind, sweetie.” A pause. “Though you should forget about trying here, there isn’t anyone worthy in this godforsaken city.” He would joke.

“Except you, Charlie.” You’d say brightly while winking at him jokingly. And then he would laugh the way only one can when they are satisfied with their life and as happy as they can be, something very rare. 

“Don’t let Mary hear you, I know she doesn’t look like it but she can throw a punch.” His eyes would shine with love as he mentioned his wife.

“I don’t doubt it.” You’d answer.

You are brought out of your memories when a voice calls your name.

“Y/N, hi.” You turn to see Jason and you can't help the immediate smile that makes its way across your lips.

“Hi. How are you?”

“I’m good. I was just about to go in when I saw you out here. What’s all of this?” He looks around at all the boxes that the pedestrians were avoiding.

“Delivery day.” You say as you take one of the boxes in your arms. His eyes widen. With that funny expression on his face he looked cute, which made him even more handsome than usual. It wasn’t even fair.

Focus, Y/N.

“And you always do this alone?” 

“No, the new delivery guy is just an idiot. Charlie always helped me.”

“Charlie?” He raises an eyebrow as he too grabs a box from the floor.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I’m helping you.” He replies without hesitation, you shake your head.

“I can’t let you do that, you’re a customer.”

“It’s no problem. Plus, this way you will finish this earlier and you can recommend me another book after the heartbreak that you gave me with the last one.”

“Sorry.” You say, trying to contain a giggle. He narrows his eyes at you.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.” You confess, this time laughing freely.

You didn’t know it but Jason thought that you looked beautiful. Even more so than some days, if that was even possible, with the wind carrying your laugh to him and rustling your hair. God, he was in deep.

“So, are you going to let me help you or not?”

“Fine.” You finally comply.

And as you two enter the boxes he repeats his question from earlier. “Well, who’s Charlie?”

“Oh, just the best delivery old man you will ever meet.” You answer, your affection for the man clearly present in your voice.

“Do you collect them?”

“What?” You ask confused.

“Grandparents, old people. You have your own grandparents, Rose, Jimmy and now I learn about this Charlie. Do you collect them?” You smile at his comment. Truth was, he had a point.

“Well, I guess you could say that. In fact, now that I think about it, most of my friends are old people. I mean, it kind of makes sense, my perfect Friday night is staying at home reading with a hot chocolate.” For a moment silence settles between you and you worry that you might have overshared and that you were creeping him out. 

“You’re an old soul.” He finally says. And the way that he does so makes you stop, like he admires you for it, as if he likes the peace that comes with such a statement.

“Maybe.” You reply, resuming your step.

“I wish I could do that.” You arch an eyebrow. “Stay at home at night during the weekends and just relax.” He adds.

“Why’s that?”

“I work nights.” 

“Oh. It must be hard.”

“Yeah, sometimes it is.” After saying that his gaze gets lost, as if for a moment he wasn’t there with you anymore, but deep into his thoughts and memories.

“Do you have any? Grandparents, I mean.” You say to distract him and bring him back.

“Just one, Alfred. Although he is in more the middle of being a father and a grandfather. He raised me along with Bruce.” As soon as he says that, you know that he is just as surprised at himself as much as you are at the confession since it is by far the most personal thing that he had ever shared with you.

It is also clear that there was a lot of history behind that statement. It seems a serious matter and the other times that you two talked, he mostly kept it lighthearted with you.

The mysterious man that had first entered into the bookshop had let you see a crack in him. He trusts you. Or at least, he was beginning to do so in a more personal way. You only feel lucky that you are being able to get closer to him.

You sense how his instinct to flight was about to strike, clearly not used to this kind of situation and being awkward about how to manage it. So, you decide to change the topic, in what you think is a smooth way, to relax the ambience and to selfishly see if you could keep him at your side just a little bit longer.

“Well, I can share Rose and Jimmy with you then. As long as you don’t steal my spot as their favorite bookshop grandkid.” Just as you finish talking you see him visibly relax, his tense shoulders acquiring a more loosen stance.

Then, almost unnoticeably, a small smile forms on his lips and another one makes its way to your own.

“Deal.” He ends up saying.

After you both bring in all the boxes, and you check them into the inventory, you open them to put the books in the correspondent shelves. You turn to thank Jason for the help but he's already passing you some of the books for you to place them.

“Thank you, but you don’t have to do this. You already did too much.”

“Nope. I’m not leaving.” He just hands you the books in his grasp and grabs some more. You stand there stunned. Where did this gorgeous kind man come from?

“Okay. At least let me give you a coffee.” You go to the break room and not even a moment later, after quickly asking him how he liked it, not even giving him the option to refuse it, you return with a cup in your hands. He whispers a thank you and when you hand it to him, his fingers so lightly graze yours, making your breath hitch in your throat. 

“You don’t want one?” He asks, seeing that you had only brought a single cup.

“Oh, I don’t like coffee much.” He nods and then you get to work, looking at the books, classifying them and ordering them.

Jason keeps passing them to you and sipping the coffee in the comfortable silence. He’s glad that you’re so concentrated because that way you won’t notice how entranced he is with you. He watches you and just by your movements he knows that you’re in your element. It was clear that you enjoyed what you did.

At some point, you start humming a repertoire of the songs from Beauty and the Beast, probably without realizing it. Jason doesn’t mention it, knowing that most likely you would become ashamed and stop.

So, Jason lets the moment pass by, your company and the peaceful atmosphere of the bookshop making a warm feeling wash over him. Making him feel safe and relaxed. Something that didn’t usually happen to him, but that being in the bookshop and in your presence, always made him feel that way.

When he eventually left, you didn’t even realize that he had done so without taking any book with him.

“Hey.”

The sudden voice makes you stumble on the ladder that you were on to return a book to its place in one of the top shelves. You know that there is nothing that you can do to prevent your fall but still in a hopeful attempt, you drop the book that was in your hand to the floor, and extend your arms to try and gain some balance. 

All of this happens in milliseconds and even then, you have time to exclaim “Jesus!” from the surprise, preparing yourself in any way you can for your imminent fate. 

However, just as fast as it all happened, a hand settles on your waist to stabilize you and another one grips the ladder to stop its wobbling. And just like that, you’re back on your feet again. You look down and there he is.

Your knight in shining leather jacket.

“Not exactly but close enough.” Jason can’t help replying to your previous exclamation. It had never crossed his mind before but now that he thinks about it, he realizes that he has something quite peculiar in common with the biblical figure. With all the ‘been dead done that’ stuff. The weird coincidence and his own comment making him chuckle to himself. 

You also huff out a small laugh, not at his comment, that you couldn't possibly fully understand, not yet, but at your own clumsiness. Laughing being almost always your immediate reaction whenever you fell or, like in this case, almost did. 

“Oh my god, thank you.” You say relieved with a thankful smile on your face.

“It’s nothing. I’m sorry actually, you almost died because of me.” 

“No, don’t worry, you just surprised me. Plus, me and high places have never been a great combination.” He chuckles at your comment and you smile in return.

Much to your disappointment, he lets go of your waist, but it doesn’t last long as he holds out his hand for you to help you come down from the ladder. You know that he’s just being polite and that you should finish what you were doing on the ladder but after the brief scare you’d like to put your feet on firm ground again for even just a small bit.

That, and the fact that you would take any chance that you could get to be close to Jason and hold his hand. Honestly, who wouldn’t?

So, you accept his hand and, just to be even more safe and avoid any possible risk of course, not for any other reason, you support yourself on his shoulder on the way down. He leads you to the ground with a small smile on his face and then sadly, lets go of your hand.

You miss the contact instantly.

“There we go.” He says, so low, that it’s almost like a whisper.

You take a moment to address him and look him over, the feel of his strong shoulder under your hand still tickling your fingers at your side. And for a split second, just a tiny little one, you wish that you had actually fallen from the ladder so that he could have caught you in his arms.

Damn it.

Now that the idea had occurred to you, you would think about it for days. 

Jason leans down to retrieve the book that you had dropped earlier and with an ease and balance that you could only dream of, he returns it to the open spot that you had been reaching for on the top shelf. It makes you both jealous and in awe of the way in which he can almost effortlessly do so. Even though even he had to step onto the first step of the ladder to reach it.

Stupid tall attractive people.

Jason enters the bookshop excited to see you. He hadn’t been able to come by for a few days and he did not like it one bit. Coming to see you were the best parts of his week, because if he was being honest, the books themselves had stopped being a motivator a long time ago.

Probably the second or third time that he had visited the bookshop.

He was just thankful that you didn’t seem to notice that you were the main reason that he came by. You would probably think that he was being creepy. However, much to his dismay, Rose and Jimmy were very much aware of how much he liked you.

They always had that knowing smile whenever they saw you two talking and they definitely knew about the insane amount of books that he checked out weekly as an excuse to see you. Books that were impossible for him to read from one visit to another in such a short amount of time and that just spent several days stacked in his house.

Thankfully, for the moment, they had never said something to you or directly commented it to him either, as they wisely knew that you two needed to take things at your own pace.

He closes the entrance door behind him and his brows furrow in confusion not seeing you behind the counter, where he would usually find you reading or taking care of a customer. Maybe you’re in the bathroom, doing something in the break room or organizing the shelves.

But then, Rose emerges from the break room behind the counter greeting him.

Oh.

A slight feeling of disappointment settles in him. It’s not that he didn't like Rose, he really enjoyed chatting with her, he just really wanted to see you. And if Rose was here maybe you weren’t working today. But it couldn’t be, you always worked Thursdays.

Not that he had paid any attention to your schedule or anything.

Then it suddenly occurs to him that maybe you have taken the day off. He’s as happy for you as much as he’s disappointed. Everyone knew that you worked too much for your own good.

Still, the selfish part of him wanted to spend just a tiny little bit of time with you.

“Good afternoon, Rose. How are you?” Jason finally greets back.

“I’m good, sweetie, just checking day. And you?”

“Glad to hear it. I’m fine too. Just came in looking for…” Damn it, he didn’t even prepare an excuse of a book. A few seconds trail on and Jason still doesn’t say anything.

“For a…” He had been caught like a deer in headlights. He avoids Rose’s intense gaze that was still set on him waiting for him to say something. This is so embarrassing. And he was supposed to be one of the daring vigilantes of Gotham?

Pathetic. That’s what he was.

He could face villains but he couldn’t come up for an excuse to see you. Jason clears his throat.

“For a…” Jason’s starting to worry that he has entered some sort of self loop and is about to facepalm himself for his own stupidity when Rose’s lips break into a wide grin and she chuckles. She was messing with him. Like always, she definitely knew what exactly he was in there for. Jason smiles and lets out a sigh of relief.

“She’s on her break.” Rose says, nodding his head in your direction, towards the shelves. 

“Thank you.” Jason turns to go find you when Rose speaks up once again.

“Oh and, by the way, since you’re on it, can you get her for me please? I want to tell her something and I’m about to meet Jimmy for lunch.”

“Of course.” He answers while Rose gives him a thankful smile.

Jason starts to pace through the bookshelves, looking for you, but you’re nowhere to be found.

Until he passes by between a couple of them and sees something on the floor. He takes a couple of steps back and there you are, sitting on the floor with books about to be shelved, he supposes, and a book in your own hands that must have had you so immersed and distracted that you hadn’t heard him come in, nor his conversation with Rose.

A fond smile makes an appearance on his lips. He loved seeing you like this, in the place that you loved most, doing what you loved most, lost in a book. He realizes that he would never get tired of that sight. Still, it’s an intimate and private moment for you and he doesn’t want to linger too much on it and intrude. Plus, Rose was looking for you.

“Hi.” He says softly as to not startle you, after the scare from the last time. Which by the way, had been replaying in his head over and over again, the electrifying feeling of your hand in his forever engraved in his mind.

“Y/N.” He tries.

Nothing. That book really had you in a trance. He huffs a small laugh and takes a couple of steps closer to you, hands in his pockets. 

“Earth to Y/N.” You let out a small hum to acknowledge him but your gaze is still fixed on the ink. He’s about to call you again when you finally get out of your trance and steal a quick look to see who had talked to you.

Your eyes widen like plates, probably realizing that you had spent too long reading on the floor. You quickly get up and Jason notices how even in your distressed state, you close the book with care and slightly organize the mess around you, your hands treating each book carefully.

He wonders if you would treat him with the same carefulness and affection. For a split second, he even wishes it was him that your hands were treating and not books. Jealousy over books. Huh, that was new.

He also couldn’t help but wonder if you were that way with everything. If even when you weren’t at your best, or going through something, treating things, people, the world around you with care and kindness came as second nature to you, sometimes without even realizing it. He had a feeling that the answer was yes.

And once again, he realizes how much the dark part of his life clashed so much with yours. But before he can get too much into his own head, once more, just like several times before, you bring him back. 

“Oh my god, Jason, I’m so sorry.” You start, taking the few steps that separated you from him. “I don’t know how it happened, I swear. God, were you waiting a lot?” He doesn’t like the worry settled on your features one bit, like always, making him feel uneasy. Like the other previous few times that he has seen you like this, he makes it his mission and his top priority to change it.

“No, not at all. Don’t worry.” You nod while your tense posture finally seems to relax a bit. “You okay?” He adds.

“Yeah, yeah. I just… Got a little bit distracted.” You say as you retrieve the books from the floor and your head motions towards them. Jason smiles at you, knowing the feeling of being so engrossed in a book that everything else faded away.

“Rose was looking for you by the way. She was about to head out to meet Jimmy.”

“Oh, right.”

When you both go back towards the counter and you take your usual spot behind it, Rose is already putting her coat on and about to leave.

“I’m so sorry Rose, I got myself carried away and…” You start but Rose stops you with a shake of her head.

“It’s okay, honey. Just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving now.” You let out a sigh of relief. You really have the best bosses in the world.

“Okay, have a nice lunch.”

“Thank you, darling. Goodbye kids.”

“Goodbye.” Both you and Jason say. And just before Rose closes the door behind her, she winks at you and you feel your cheeks warm at the unspoken insinuation. Enjoy your time alone. You steal a quick look at Jason, hoping that he hasn’t seen Rose’s wink and sigh in relief when you see that he’s already turned towards you, facing away from the door.

Though, now that you think about it, you could swear that it was Jimmy the one that was supposed to meet Rose at the bookshop today, not the other way around. That woman was too smart for her own good.

“Well, what can I do for you today?” You ask Jason once you turn towards him.

“I…” Quick, Jason, think. “Could you extend my loan for the book from last week?” Nice save.

“Sure.” As you click on the computer, Jason takes a look at the stack of books that you had brought back with you from the shelves and that you have left on the counter.

“What got you so entranced back there?”

“Oh.” You say and you turn to the stack of books. Your eyes shining with excitement now. “We just got these new Jane Austen hardcovers and they’re just so gorgeous, look.”

You take the one on top of the stack, the one that you had been reading, and hand it to him. Pride and Prejudice. He takes it from your hands, your fingertips slightly grazing one another’s. Jason looks at the cover that feels soft yet sturdy in his hands. It was simple with just the title of the book and Austen’s name but the intricate and beautiful designs that decorated it made it, as you had said, a gorgeous edition.

“Wow. These are great.” He says with childlike wonder lacing his tone. He opens the book and his eyes skim over the pages and passages that he has read so many times before.

“I know, right? I was just admiring them one last time before putting them on the shelves and I just opened one to read a couple of paragraphs but next thing I know, I was ten pages in. I swear I didn’t mean for it to happen.” You confess. Jason laughs softly.

“Don’t worry, that’s just the Jane Austen effect. I get it, it happens to me too.” You can’t help but stare at him for a few seconds, blinking slowly, processing the newfound information. Thankfully, he’s still engrossed in the book.

This man likes Jane Austen? Is he trying to kill you or something? As if you couldn’t like him even more.

“You like Austen?” You ask, still a bit in disbelief, though it doesn’t really surprise you, since from the very beginning you had noticed how he was a very cultured person and how he had a great taste in books.

How sexy is that? To you, very. Very sexy.

“I love her. Basic, I know, but this one’s my favorite.” He answers as he puts the book back on top of the stack. As if anything in him could be basic, as if you don’t find him to be one of the most fascinating persons that you have ever met in your entire life.

“It’s not basic, it’s great. I love it too but I think that I prefer Northanger Abbey.” You pause. “Or Persuasion.” You pause again. “Or Emma.” You pause to think once more and Jason looks at you amused, loving how passionate you are when talking about it. “Or… Okay well, I love all of them! I can’t choose just one.” Jason smirks.

“Perfectly valid and understandable answer.” He says. You both look at each other for a second too long and then his phone starts ringing, breaking the moment. You give a slight jump and busy yourself going back to finish renewing his loan on the computer.

But to your surprise, he just takes it out of his pocket, looks quickly at the screen and directly hangs up. You raise an eyebrow but continue with your task, a small smile making its way across your lips, flattered that he prefers to keep talking to you rather than picking up his phone.

“Well, done. You have another week to…” You’re interrupted when his phone rings again. Jason huffs annoyed and silences it again.

“Sorry.” He says. You shake your head.

“It’s okay.” The phone rings a third time. It must be really important. “Though I think you should take it.” Jason looks at his phone in his hands, then at you, back at his phone, and then at you again, still doubtful, but you nod encouragingly. He seems torn and undecided, but he finally nods to himself and gives you an apologetic look before answering.

“What?” He says annoyingly, taking a couple of steps away from the counter as you pretend to check things on the computer and try (and fail) not to eavesdrop.

He’s going to kill Steph. He really is. She never calls him and now there is something so important that she has to call him three times and interrupt his talk with you? It better be good. 

“Heyyy. Jaybiiird. My bestieeee, the best vigilante in Gotham that there is.” Jason can already start to feel a headache forming, he brings a palm to his face and then runs it through his hair. You watch the gesture with envy. How many times had you daydreamed about doing the very same gesture? Probably too many.

“I can’t talk right now.” He quickly glances at you, still at the computer. This is stupid.

“Pleaseeee, I need your help.” At her pleading tone Jason sighs tiredly and pinches his nose, even though he knows that he shouldn’t be listening. With the way that she’s talking it’s probably a stupid favor or something, he would much rather be talking with you.

“Steph, what do you want?”

Steph? At that your head perks up slightly. His girlfriend, maybe? Your shoulders deflate thinking of the possibility. He had never mentioned having one but you also had never asked. Why would you even ask? You’re just friends, or something like that, it would seem like it was coming out of nowhere. As your thoughts keep spiraling and you stare blankly at the screen in front of you, Jason carries on with his conversation.

“You’re going to laugh…” Steph starts.

Jason rolls his eyes, catches your eyes and mouths my sister. You just nod and your spiraling thoughts stop abruptly. Thank god. Although the possibility of him having a girlfriend is still there, now that you don’t have to face it directly, you decide not to linger too much on it. Keeping the thought away and trying to ignore it, just like you had been doing since you met him. That’s a future problem for future you.

Jason changes his phone from one ear to the other as he listens to Steph stumble through her words. If she’s going to keep beating around the bush, he might as well hang up.

“Okay, bye.” He’s about to end the call when Steph speaks up again.

“I lost Damian.” Jason’s eyes widen as he turns to his other side.

“You what?” He whisper-shouts into the phone. 

“Okay so, Damian is grounded, okay? Something about driving the batmobile without permission and then…”

“Steph.” Jason warns through gritted teeth, clearly meaning go to the point.

“Okay, okay! So, I’m on babysitting duty alright? And Damian had been talking non stop about this new limited art exposition in the museum that he wanted to go to and that it wasn’t fair that he was grounded and blah blah blah.”

“Okay, and?”

“And… Well, there was this new season of this show coming out today and I just got distracted for a bit and then he kinda… Disappeared?” God. Jason closes his eyes in frustration. His family really knew how to be the most infuriating at the worst of times. He stays silent for a moment mentally cursing them before opening his eyes again.

“Told you you were going to laugh…” Steph repeats at his silence and Jason sighs, making you giggle quietly at the sibling interaction. Jason smiles at the sound.

“So what? Just go to the museum after him.” He finally answers.

“That’s the thing, I am at the museum and I just can’t find him. Damn that kid and his ninja training.” Steph hisses through the line. “Can you come and help me find him please?” He could hear her pouting.

“Why me?”

“You’re the only one that picked up.” And now he was sure that she was smiling innocently but full of mischief. Jason huffs. As soon as he saw Steph’s name on his screen he knew that he shouldn’t have picked up.

“No.” He says.

“Come on, pleaseeee. I’ll owe you one. If I don’t find Damian I will be the one that’s grounded next.” Honestly, who had put her on babysitting duty? Who had even grounded Damian to begin with? It was impossible to try and control that kid.

Damn it, Bruce.

“Bruce can’t ground you.”

“Oh yes, he can. I’m sure he’ll find a way. He’ll make me go supervise Condiment King or something! Please, Jason, please." Jason sighs. “Please, please, please, please. I’ll do all the research that you need for a week!” Mmhm. That’s interesting. That would certainly leave him with more time to see you.

“A month.” He counteroffers and sees you smiling at his bickering, making his insides feel giddy. Steph groans.

“A month? You know that’s too much.”

“Do you want my help or not?” Silence.

“Arrrg, okay, okay! Well, we’ll talk about it, now, can you please come here?” 

“With pleasure.” He says amused. Even though his family can be infuriating at times, he had to admit that they had their good moments and he enjoyed annoying them just as much as they did him.

“You’re so arrogant, oh my god. I pity whoever decides to put up with you.” Steph says and Jason can’t help but steal a glance in your direction.

“Just remember that you owe me a big one.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just come here. I’ll wait for you at the entrance.”

“Okay.” Before he hangs up, he hears Steph speak up again.

“Hey Jaybird.” Jason hums. “Thanks.” He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Bye.”

“And say hi to Y/N for me-!” He hangs up before you can hear Steph’s loud teasing voice. He knew that talking about you in front of his family wasn’t the best of ideas but he just couldn’t help it. You occupied his thoughts a lot more than what he was willing to admit. 

“Sorry.” He says as he approaches the counter once again and puts his phone in his pocket.

“It’s okay. Sibling drama then?” You ask playfully as you raise an eyebrow.

“You have no idea. It was Steph, she used to date one of my brothers. Tim.” You look at him confused.

“I thought you said she was your sister?”

“Yeah, I mean- it’s… It’s complicated. That was how we met her but she’s like a sister to me now.”

“I see.”

“Sorry, we’re quite a mess.” He chuckles awkwardly, running his hand through his hair and the white streak once again. The movement, like always, has you hypnotized. It should be illegal. Jason thinks that he should just stop talking, now he has weirded you out with his stupid and crazy family.

“Aren’t we all?” You say softly as you tilt your head in the cutest of ways. Honestly, the more that he told you about his family, the more you realized how peculiar they were. But they seemed really close to each another, which was what really mattered.

“Yeah… I guess so.” He trails on as he gets lost in your eyes again. You nod and he shakes out of his daze. “Well, I should get going. Duty calls.” He adds as he nods towards the door and taps his fingers against his side of the counter nervously.

“Okay. Hope everything goes well with whatever it is.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you next time.” Something about the security of knowing that he will always come back, and that there will always be a next time with him, raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Yeah. Next time.” You both look at each other as he walks towards the door.

Something lingers in the air, as if both of you want to say something else but do not dare to do so. Do not dare to cross the invisible line in your strange friendship usually defined by the safety of the counter that almost always stayed between you two in your interactions.

Jason grabs the door handle and holds it open for a moment as you speak one last time.

“See you soon then?” It’s a stupid sentence, already remarking what you both have already said, but it’s as good of an excuse as any to make him stay just a few seconds longer.

“See you soon.” Jason nods smiling at you and then, the door closes behind him.

You’re reading at the counter when the bell on top of the door jingles. You look up, hoping to find green eyes but are met with a stressful boy looking around the shop. As if in his distressed state, he can’t find you behind the counter.

“Hi.” You say as you bookmark your page. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh. Hi. Yeah.” He says as he quickly approaches you. He shakes his head to move the hair out of his blue eyes and takes a piece of paper out of his pocket. His hunched posture and shaky mannerisms tells you that he hasn’t caught a break in a while. This poor boy needs a rest.

“I’ve been looking for this book everywhere and I can’t find it anywhere. It’s my boyfriend’s birthday tomorrow, he loves mysteries and conspiracies and I need to find it. My brother told me that this is the best bookshop in all of Gotham and that you can find anything here.” He rambles as he gives you the piece of paper. You take the paper and look at the boy as he slightly bounces on his feet looking around the shop.

You raise an eyebrow. A distracted boy that seems to always be running and a brother that recommends the bookshop? Sounds quite familiar.

“Tim?” You can’t help but guess, though you’re still a bit unsure. Jason had mentioned him a few times and how his younger brother always seemed to be doing a hundred things at once. At that his bouncing stops abruptly and finally looks at you for more than a few fleeting seconds, suspicious of how you know his name.

“Sorry, hi. I’m Y/N. Jason comes here often and has mentioned you a few times.” You say nervously. The information seems to take a little bit longer than usual to register due to his distressed state but then when he finally recognizes you, his alert posture relaxes.

“Oh, Y/N! Hi, yes. I’m Tim. Nice to meet you.” He says as he holds out his hand and you shake it. “Jason talks about you too.” He adds. You feel your cheeks go warm.

“Well, nice to meet you too. Are you okay? You seem a bit stressed.”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just that I’ve been putting together this party for my boyfriend and the gift is being so hard to find it’s giving me headaches. Please tell me that you can help me.” 

“Of course.” You say. “But first, take a deep breath.” He looks at you as if he doesn’t know what you mean. “You need to rest and relax a bit if you want to make it to your boyfriend’s birthday tomorrow without dropping from exhaustion.” You nod encouraging him and then take a deep breath yourself so that he can imitate you. Thankfully, he does so after shaking his shoulders to release tension and then stays with his eyes closed, taking a moment.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He answers, opening his eyes.

You nod. “No problem. Let’s find that book.” You look at the piece of paper and type in the title and author of the book on the system. It’s a limited edition of a book about the old history of Gotham and thankfully, you have one copy in the storage room. “Got it. I’ll be right back.” Tim sighs in relief as you leave the counter.

When you come back, you bring the book and a cup of coffee from the break room with you. 

“This is so that you can get home to rest until tomorrow without dying on the way.” You say as you slide the coffee towards him.

“Oh thanks, but it’s not necessary.” You stare at him, having clearly seen how the idea of coffee almost had him glowing.

“Okay, okay.” He chuckles as he goes to take the coffee but you keep the cup in place.

“Promise that when you get home, you will rest. Do not take anymore coffee so that you can keep organizing things.” Tim looks at you, your firm tone and kind intentions making him clearly see why Jason is so smitten with you. He can also easily see himself trusting you and becoming friends with you.

“Promise.” He says honestly. You nod, letting go of the cup. "If you want more milk or sugar-" You can't even finish the sentence as he shakes his head, having already taken the cup into his hands and taken a sip.

“Mm, not necessary. This is great. Thank you.”

You smile. “You’re welcome. Do you want to wrap the book?”

“Yes, please.” He says.

“The Rainbow Fish? Again?” You say chuckling as Jason puts it on the counter for what probably was the third or fourth time. You really were starting to run out of options wondering why he always checked out so many kids’ books. But it just felt very intrusive to ask, he never said anything more about it either, probably not wanting to talk about it much.

“Yeah.” He says as you scan the book and pass his card on the system. 

“I loved this book when I was little.” A nostalgic look on your eyes as you gaze at the cover of the book, remembering the silver scales of the arrogant fish that he had to give away in order to be accepted instead of just being a nicer fish.

The message of the book in the end was good: not think of yourself as superior to others. But there was something about having to give up something that you were proud of and that was special about you in order to be accepted that always felt a little off putting to you when you grew up, especially when being kind could have just resolved everything.

“Though it sure as hell began my people pleasing problems.” You add giggling a bit without thinking. But when what you have said registers, you freeze, hands on the book and blank stare on them, not daring to look up at Jason. 

Where the fuck did that come from? 

You shut your eyes, praying to whatever was out there to let you die of embarrassment. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You had definitely freaked him out. That’s it. He would walk out of the bookshop and never come back. Why would you even say that? You weren’t thinking, that’s it. It had just slipped. You had become so used to being able to be yourself and talk about everything with Jason that it just felt so easy and comfortable to say whatever was on your mind. 

Finally, you decide to sentence your fate and just end with this terribly awkward conversation as soon as possible.

“Sorry.” You say. “I honestly don’t know where that came from.” Jason just chuckles though not in a mocking manner, but in an understanding way.

“Don’t worry, I get it.” He assures you. You look back down, missing Jason’s look of appreciation, loving your honesty and how flustered you were. He found it endearing. “Well, thanks.” He says as he goes to take the book on the counter.

Your whole body then tenses in alarm when you see the state of his hands, which until now, had been hidden in his pockets. Without thinking, once again, (seriously, what was wrong with you today?), you take his hands to take a closer look at them.

Jason lets out a small gasp as you do so and mentally smacks himself for letting you see his wounded knuckles, now him being the one that wanted to die of embarrassment. It was only so much that the gloves of his Red Hood gear could do to protect them.

“What happened?” You whisper, worry etched onto every single one of your features. 

Fuck.

How had he been so careless? He should have bandaged them, hidden them better or put make up on them. He just wasn’t used to having someone worry about him and his wounds like you were right now. At his silence, you try again:

“Jason.” Now he was the one avoiding your gaze. But you persist, finally making eye contact with him. “What happened? Are you okay?” He wills himself to get out of his stupor and even though deep down he doesn’t want to, out of the soft touch of your hands too, bringing his own back to his sides.

“It’s nothing. It’s just… I do boxing.” He says as he shrugs his shoulders. “It happens.” You raise an eyebrow, suspicious. It feels like something doesn’t fully add up.

You know that there are things that Jason isn’t telling you. He has made some strange comments before but you always let it go. You know that eventually, if he wants to, when he’s ready, he will tell you. God knows that you have your own things too.

But if there is something that you have learned about your growing friendship with Jason is that you both like to take things at your own pace. Trusting and becoming close with each other slowly but steadily.

Letting time do its work. Not forcing the flow of things. And you like it that way. Life is always everchanging so to have something so solid and safe like what you have with him, you want to treasure it and nurture it. Although all of that of course, doesn’t stop you from worrying about him and wanting to take care of him.

So, you just nod, accepting his explanation, but not without having a little bit of fun.

“I thought that in boxing you were supposed to wear gloves to avoid that very kind of injuries.” You say with a playful smile.

Shit.

Jason wants to facepalm himself. He really seemed to just have one brain cell whenever he was around you. At his lack of response you shake your head.

“Come, let me patch that up at least.”

“Oh, no, no. It’s fine, don’t worry.”

“Jason.” You throw him a glance.

“Y/N.” He maintains your stare. Finally, a small smile escapes your lips and you put an end to the staring contest, rounding the counter and taking his hands once again and guiding him to the break room. Allowing yourselves this moment since there aren't any other customers in the store right now. Jason lets you, knowing that in the end, he will never be able to deny you anything.

Once in the break room, you sit him down at a chair by a table and leave for a moment before you return with a first aid kid. You sit down in front of him and look at him softly.

“Can I?” You motion towards his hands. Jason swallows and only finds the courage to nod slowly.

The knuckles are far from being the worst that they have ever been and Jason always tries to take care of them but he had just arrived home from patrol the night before so exhausted that he had only managed to clean them before passing out on his bed. Right now, they’re mostly just reddened with a couple of points in which the skin is broken.

Jason then finds out that he was right. When you take his left hand and start treating the wound, cleaning it again and applying some antiseptic on it, he sees that you treat him with the same care and thoughtfulness that you did with those books all those weeks ago.

Almost as if he was something delicate, something precious. If not more.

The beat of his heart quickens and he wonders if in the silence of the room, you can hear it.

This is the very first time that Jason has been back here, the setting of your interactions always being the open part of the bookshop and this change of scenario makes it seem like something has shifted between you two. Like you weren’t just employee and customer with a friendly relationship anymore but like you have a real friendship and a deeper connection.

The whole time, as you treat his other hand too and then slowly bandage both of them, Jason looks at you. He’s glad that you’re only fixed on his hands because that way he can take all the time that he wants to admire you.

The concentrated look in your eyes, the way that your eyebrows furrow in concentration, how you put a strand of hair that has fallen out behind your ear, and the occasional and very tortuous moment in which you bite your lip in concentration, being extra careful in not hurting him.

And that's when the weight of how much he feels for you falls on him. He was already aware of it before but now is when he can really feel the weight of it all. How what he feels for you is not just an infatuation or a crush, but something deeper that runs beneath his skin, crawling into him, taking root. Settling and making a home there.

“Done.” You whisper. And as you retract your hands from his, Jason wishes that he never had to part from your touch.

You put all the things that you used back into the first aid kit and try not to think about the impulse that you had, but that you thankfully had managed to repress, of kissing his knuckles when you finished bandaging them.

“Be careful, okay?” You say. Jason nods, admiring your work but when you don’t take your eyes off of him he answers:

“Yeah. Promise.” You nod satisfied. Then Jason remembers another promise that he had made. “Tim wanted me to thank you by the way. Bernard loved the book.” He says.

“Oh, that’s right! It was no problem, it was really great to meet him. How was his boyfriend’s party? Bernard’s I guess?” You say excited.

“Tim said it went great. And that thanks to you he didn’t fall asleep during it and was actually able to enjoy it.” You giggle in response when suddenly, Jason’s phone beeps and he takes a quick look. Firefly alert downtown. He jumps out of his seat.

“Sorry, I have to go. Thank you, really.” And faster than a bullet, he’s gone.

You sigh, shaking yourself out from the intimate moment and when you return to the counter, you see that in his hurry, Jason forgot to take The Rainbow Fish with him. You take the book and put it under the counter, keeping it for him for next time.

You’re running some errands when you see two large men crowding a little girl. She can’t be older than six and she’s clutching onto a teddy bear for dear life. 

Anger and fear for the little girl rage inside you, it is broad daylight and there are quite a few people on the street, yet everyone seems to carry out their business ignoring the men trying to talk the girl into going with them. You knew how Gotham was but it seemed like the city always found a way to surprise you.

“Come on, your mommy told us to come get you.” You hear one of the men say to the girl as you quickly approach them.

“I don’t have a mom.” The girl manages to say, distrustful. And even though hearing that makes you sad, you admire the girl, you can tell that she’s smart.

“Can I help you?” You hiss as you put yourself between the two men and the girl, putting an arm out to keep her behind you. You see the two men exchange a look, clearly discussing if it is worth it to cause a scene in the middle of the street.

“No. We were just leaving.” One ends up saying, giving a clap to the back of the other, directing them away from you and the girl. As they turn to leave, they try to give one last look to the little girl but you move to block their line of sight.

When they turn the corner at the end of the street, you finally let out a sigh of relief, thankful that the confrontation didn’t escalate to anything more.

You knew you didn’t actually stand a great chance against them physically, and seeing how people were ignoring the situation before, you’re not sure that anyone would have helped you.

Adrenaline is still pumping through your veins as you turn and kneel on the floor to be eye level with the girl, who takes a step back in fear but you hold your hands up, trying to show her how you’re not a threat.

Now that you can see her clearly, you see how scared she really is. She is shaking slightly, still clutching her worn out teddy bear with tears in her eyes. Her clothes aren’t in the best state either and her shoes are two steps more from falling apart. Just by looking at her you can tell that she has to have spent nights on the street. 

Your heart breaks. It really was unfair how many unfortunate people and kids lived in such dire situations in Gotham. Of course you knew that there were people trying to change things and do better like the vigilantes or normal people like you, that even if it was in the smallest of ways, always tried to help somehow. You did so by either giving away the clothes that you didn’t use anymore or doing donations whenever you could. But sometimes it still seemed like the bad outweighed the good. 

“Hi, honey.” You say in a soft voice to try and calm the little girl. “I’m Y/N. What’s your name?”

She stops backing up against the wall of the building, sniffs and rubs her eyes, before looking at you, deciding whether or not to trust you.

“Lily.” You hear her squeak out. Her grip on the teddy bear relaxes and she starts playing with its ear, still not looking directly at you.

“Hi Lily, it’s very nice to meet you.” You say as you extend a hand to her, wanting to give her some sense of normalcy. She slowly takes it and you give her a soft shake. “You okay?” She nods. “You know Lily, you were very brave standing up to those men.”

“They were bad” She says. You nod. “Jay always says not to trust strangers and much less big scary men.”

“He’s very right. Is he your brother?” Maybe you can help her get back to her family. If you managed to do so, it would be much better than bringing her to the police and then, sadly, most likely than not, forgotten in the foster care system.

“No. A friend. A very good friend.”

“Okay, good. That’s very important.” You look around, trying to see if somebody is looking for her. “Do you live nearby?”

“I think so.” She says shyly, you give her an encouraging look to see if she can give you any more information. “I was chasing a cat but I think that I took a wrong turn.”

“Okay. How about I go with you and try to find your way back?” You say as you stand back up. You’re happy to see that Lily doesn’t look scared anymore. Instead, she looks almost… Excited?

“Yes, please! I don’t want to miss it!” She says as she grabs your hand and starts walking in the direction that you suppose she came.

“Miss what?” You ask, but she’s already telling you everything about her teddy bear, who seems to be Batbear at night, fighting crime and kicking butt like the heroes in Gotham.

Turns out that Lily’s home was thankfully a lot closer than what you had expected. After asking her if she remembered a couple of streets and stores, she was able to find the right way back.

You finally reach an open space between two buildings that seems to work as a playground, with a rusty basket to play basketball on one side and several boxes and crates littering the corners. Several kids run around playing and chasing each other, most of them in the same condition as Lily.

A group of them surround a bench and you hear him before you see him.

“What do you mean Lily’s not here? Where is she?” He’s running a hand stressfully through his hair, looking around worriedly.

“Jason?” You ask transfixed.

Jason locks eyes with you and freezes, just as surprised to see you as you are to see him.

“Y/N.” He says breathlessly.

“Jay!” Lily’s excited voice filters through the air. You feel her dropping your hand and Jason’s eyes turn to her, relief washing over them. As she runs towards Jason, she extends her arms and he scoops her up and settles her on his waist effortlessly, Lily hugging his neck.

“Lily! Oh my god, where were you? We were all so worried. You’re always here when I arrive.” He says to her.

“I know, I'm sorry! Some bad men tried to take me. But don’t worry, Y/N helped me! She’s a badass!” Jason’s eyes widen at the new information and you see something in them that you had never seen before, a kind of anger that promises danger.

But as soon as that look comes, it disappears, and it makes you wonder if it was ever really there in the first place. He then looks at you, thankful but with a small tint of worry. You just give him a reassuring nod, telling him that everything is okay.

“Why don’t you go with the rest for a bit? I’ll be right there.” He says as he turns to Lily once more.

“Okay!” He settles her back down and she runs off to the other kids.

Jason approaches you quickly in a few strides, it feels like he wants to touch you, take your hands to make sure that you’re okay but he stops himself.

“You okay? What happened?”

“Yeah. I’m okay, don’t worry.” You tell him what happened and you can see how the anger returns to him in the way that he clenches his fists. “But we’re fine and they left so that’s all that matters.” You conclude.

“Where was it?” He asks firmly. You tell him the street where it all happened and Jason seems deep in thought for a moment, like searching for something in his mind. When he finally finds it, he nods resolutely as if he just made a mental note to do something later.

The determination in his eyes sends a chill running down your spine.

“Thank you for helping her.” He says then. “But be careful please, I don’t want you to be in danger.” The very thought makes him shiver, he doesn’t even want to entertain the possibility.

“I know. I am. I just couldn’t stand by.” You respond and he nods, knowing that that was how you were, always looking out for others.

“Anyway, thanks again.” He adds and you nod before looking around you once more.

It then dawns on you that this is the very first time that you are seeing Jason outside of the bookshop and it just feels so strange. When he first entered the shop, it seemed like he stood out like a sore thumb, with his tall frame, rough appearance and black leather jacket against the cozy backdrop of the shop. But now, after so much time, you couldn’t imagine him anywhere else. Now it was like he didn’t fit into any other atmosphere other than at the bookshop.

“Well, and what are you doing here?” You ask curiously.

“Oh, I…”

“So you’re Y/N?” Interrupts a young teen with a knowing smile, followed by a group of other kids, including Lily, clearly having told them her latest adventure. You nod.

“Are you his girlfriend?” Asks another boy now, looking up at you. You let out a small laugh at the way Jason’s eyes widen almost comically at the kid’s boldness.

“No.” You respond, and for a second, you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to answer otherwise.

“We’re friends.” Jason says.

“Very good friends.” You can’t help but add and when you steal a nervous glance at Jason, you find him nodding, agreeing with you. Because saying just ‘friends’ feels too simple to describe your relationship with Jason. And what you said still doesn't cover it.

“Really?” The teen boy from earlier asks again with a raised eyebrow. “Because he-” Jason grabs him and puts a hand over his mouth before he can keep talking, smiling innocently at you. You look at the chaotic situation amused.

“Are you staying for the reading?” Lily asks.

“The reading?” You ask confused.

“Yeah! Jason always reads to us and acts out the stories!” Another girl says. And then it clicks.

Jason buys and checks out so many children’s books for them. For these kids. Street kids. Like him. Not only that but he also reads the stories for them. Regularly. You feel like melting into a puddle.

You turn to Jason, an amazed look on your face. As if this man could be any more wonderful. He blushes and looks away in embarrassment. A small smile makes its way across your lips.

“Really? I didn’t know that.” You say, turning to the kids once more.

“Yeah! He’s great at it.” Chirps the same girl.

“Are you staying then?” Lily insists.

You immediately turn to Jason. You would love to but there is a reason for why Jason hasn’t told you about this. It feels like this is something very important to him and that he holds very dear so you don’t want to intrude on that. But Jason is already looking at you, scared yet hopeful, as if he does want you to stay but is afraid that you may want to leave now.

“Well, I would love to. If I’m not a burden of course.”

“Never.” Jason says without missing a beat.

You don’t think that you have ever smiled more brightly.

You end up having one of the best afternoons that you have ever had in a while. Rival only to the other ones in which Jason visits you in the bookstore. You stay and listen as Jason reads them the books that had been sitting on the bench and that you recognize from the bookstore out loud, using different voices, doing exaggerating gestures, and acting out scenes.

You watch as the kids laugh and look at him mesmerized. If you had been able to look into a mirror, you would have found that you had the very same look of admiration as them, maybe even a tiny little bit lovestruck. You can tell that they love him, look up to him and consider him a role model. You can’t help but think that they made an excellent choice.

The crowd is mostly made of small kids, the older ones, in their teenage years, although a few of them listen, most make as if the activity doesn’t interest them, but you can see how they linger around the group while they play basketball or pass by. 

You see how what Jason is doing with these kids is a light for them. A moment of escapism, fun and happiness from their lives and problems in the worst neighborhoods of Gotham. Kids forced to grow up earlier to survive. Holding onto whatever source of innocence that they can.

Eventually, they all rope you into reading too and you end up sharing the spotlight with Jason. There are laughs, questions from the kids about yourself, funny comments and the snickering whispers from the older kids at the back about the two of you, having obviously heard about you before.

Jason prays that you can’t see them when they start teasing him and making kissy faces to which he just rolls his eyes. He also prays that you can’t see how he looks at you as you enjoy yourself and laugh at what the kids say. The utter adoration and longing that lay in his eyes.

It isn’t until almost a couple of hours later, when the sun has already disappeared beyond the horizon and the orange hue of the sky has turned purple, that the reading does come to an end.

The kids say their goodbyes, not before inviting you to reading time again and wondering when you will come back. A lot of them already give you a hug as they go, and you see them leave back towards their homes. Most of them go to the adjacent buildings but there are also a few, mostly the older kids, or at least accompanied by them, that go towards the street.

Lily thanks you for your help and even gives you a kiss on the cheek that makes you want to melt and give her a tight hug before she leaves towards the closest building, a girl a few years older than her guiding her by the hand.

And then, after all the chaos and laughs, with the night starting to settle in, it’s just you and Jason once again.

You sit back down on the bench next to him and you both stay there for a moment, enjoying the quiet and the silence of the chill Gotham air.

When you turn to Jason, his green gaze is already on you.

“Thank you for staying. The kids loved having you here.” He whispers as to not disturb the peace that has settled over you both. “I hope that it wasn’t too much.”

“What? No, it was lovely. Really, I had a great time. I’m sorry if I intruded.”

“No, not at all.”

“Now I know why you always check out so many kids’ books. Good to know that you’re not a psychopath with kids in cages or something.” You joke and Jason huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, maybe I should have explained that earlier. It would have been too strange to explain at the beginning but then we became friends and it dragged on and it felt too weird to explain now. I don’t know.” He just didn’t know what you would have thought of him.

“No, no.” You shake your head. “I didn’t mean it like that. This was clearly something very private to you. It’s perfectly understandable not wanting to share it with anybody.”

“You’re not anybody.”

You’re sure your heart stops beating for a moment.

The intensity of his gaze makes you look down at your hands. You can’t remember if anyone has ever looked at you like that.

It’s scary.

In a good way, but still very scary.

“Well, anyway, thank you for letting me be a part of it.” You end up saying and he nods.

Silence settles over you two once again. Neither of you wanting the day to end.

“You hungry? I know a great spot.” He speaks up.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

“I’m starving.”

You love the place as soon as you see it. It’s a small, yet very cozy and lovely diner. Through the outside windows you can see that the color pattern is mostly blue and white with bright pink neon letters announcing that it’s open.

Jason holds the door open for you and the warmness inside the place drastically contrasts with the cold from outside. The delightful smells from the kitchen make your stomach ache with hunger.

“Hi, sweetie! We’ll be right with you!” The old woman at the bar with a brightly tinted red streak in her hair says excitedly.

“Sit wherever you like!” A voice yells next from the kitchen. From the open window that looks into it from the dining area you can see another old woman with a bun.

“Thank you, ladies.” Jason greets.

Your mouth hangs open.

Jason leads you to a booth that stares out into the street. His usual spot, you suppose. As you sit in the comfortable booth and you two take off your coats, you close your mouth and look at Jason with a raised eyebrow. He looks back at you feigning innocence, though you know well that he knows why you’re so surprised.

“What?” He says with a teasing smirk that makes you want to kiss it away.

“You little liar.”

“Hey.” He responds amused. “What did I do now?”

“Looks like I’m not the only one with practically adoptive grandparents that just so happen to run a business.” You say with your arms crossed.

And when Jason laughs, you might as well be addicted to the sound with how much you love it everytime you hear it. 

“I knew you were going to say that.” He says and you scoff playfully. “In my defense, I will say that I wasn’t fully ‘officially’ adopted until after we had that conversation. I hadn’t come here enough times for that yet.”

“Mmhm, sure.” You say suspicious as you take the menu from the side of the table and take a quick look over it. “And you wanted to take Rose and Jimmy away from me.” You add, muttering under your breath.

“Excuse me?” Mock outrageousness in his tone.

“What you hear.” You’re trying too hard to hide your smile.

“You know that was never my intention.” He answers and you just hum, pretending to read the menu. “Okay, as an act of peace, you can have Millie and Ruby too.”

“Mhm.” You pretend to think it over.

“I’m sure they’ll love you in no time anyway.” The lightness with which he says that, as if anyone who met you couldn’t help but love you, makes you drop the menu onto the table and look back at him.

“Deal then.” You finally say and you both let out a small laugh.

After that, the woman with the red streak approaches your table and greets you both.

“Good evening kids, how are you today?”

“Good, Ruby, and you?” Jason answers.

“You know, same old, same old.” She says, waving her hand. Then she turns fully to you. “And who might this lovely lady be?” She asks with a knowing smile and an arched eyebrow, almost as if she already knows the answer and knows a secret that you’re not privy to.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“The Y/N?” Ruby says while throwing Jason a look. He just looks away in embarrassment and the neon sign of the window really makes you wonder if the red tint on his cheeks are a reflection of it or not. “Oh, it’s so lovely to meet you dear! We've heard so much about you! We’ve been telling Jason to bring you non-stop. Oh gosh, I gotta tell Millie. Millie! Honey, come here!” She screams towards the kitchen.

Your lips curve into an amused smile, but you also feel heat rush to your face, not really knowing what to do with all the attention and the fact that Jason has been talking about you, what seems to be quite a lot, to other people. Not only his brother, but also the kids and these women.

Millie appears and when she learns who you are, she greets you just as enthusiastically as Ruby has.

“Let me tell you sweetheart, this boy here talks about you-” Millie starts but then she clears her throat as Jason throws her a warning glance. “I mean, about your bookshop all the time.”

“Well, you can drop by anytime.” You offer.

“We will.” Millie assures you. It seems as though both Millie and Ruby want to stay and ask you millions of questions but they see how Jason is begging them with his eyes to leave you two alone, and after taking your orders, they leave with a smile.

“They seem really great.” You say. Their loud nature sign of a joyous life. And even though they seem more energetic, vivacious and chaotic than the calm and quiet way in which Rose and Jimmy carry themselves, you know that they would get along very well. Especially with how all of them seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the interactions that you and Jason have.

“Yeah, they are.” Jason confirms. “But sorry about that, they can come off as a bit overwhelming sometimes.”

“It’s okay. It’s nice to be greeted so welcomely.”

As the night goes on, you find that it is just as easy to talk to Jason outside the bookshop as it is over the counter. It doesn’t surprise you but the underlying fear that your connection only works surrounded by bookshelves finally leaves you.

As you both eat the delicious food that Millie prepared, Jason tells you more about the kids per your request. How he tries to read to them at least once a week, how he brings them food whenever he can and how he has even taught a few of them to read. You also immediately offer up the bookstore to hold the readings but he shakes his head and smiles sadly.

“Thank you, really. That’s very kind of you. But it’s not very viable since the neighborhoods are not very close. Most of the kids have people relying on them and can only make it to the readings from time to time. The playground is also the more common ground, the older kids can’t go very far due to the responsibilities and it’s not safe for the smaller ones to go on their own.”

You nod, but your heart clenches at how these kids can’t enjoy a normal childhood.

“I understand.” You stop and think for a second if you should say what you want to say next, worried about overstepping. 

You decide to go for it anyway.

“I’d like to come back for the readings, if that’s okay?” Your voice comes out lower and more unsure than what you had first intended, your hands playing nervously on your lap.

Jason looks at you, as if he can hardly believe you’re real.

“Of course you can. I’m sure they’d love to have you back.” I’d love to have you back. But Jason doesn’t want to scare you or make the whole situation come off too strong. “But are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured, if their insistence-” 

“No, no! Really, I had a great time and I would love to be able to see the kids again. Help in any way I can.”

“Okay, then.” He says with a smile pulling at his lips.

The evening stretches on and you two stay at the dinner until closing time. There is a moment that will haunt you for days, as you told him a story, he leaned his arms on the table, giving you his undivided attention, and the way in which his bicep flexed under his sleeve… Nothing has ever been so distracting. Your eyes had been instantly drawn over to it. You really, really hoped that he didn’t notice. You would die of embarrassment otherwise.

You even finally, finally, give each others’ numbers to match schedules for the readings (and to just chat in general of course), since you won’t be able to make it to all of them due to the bookstore hours and so that Jason can let you know if he can’t attend one. You can’t believe you didn’t even have it before with how often you two already talked at the bookshop.

It feels like another shift in your relationship. A stepping stone.

Another brick on the long yet sturdy building road.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

>Part II

[juustokaku]

Dear Daisy - Jongho x f!reader

Summary: Feelings for Jongho weren’t the only thing you developed. Falling in love meant falling ill in this case. 

Genre: fluff, angst 

Pairings: Jongho x f!reader, slight Wooyoung x f!reader 

T/W: blood, choking (not strangling), reader has the hanahaki disease, mean Jongho :( 

A/N: This was an attempt of the fic I promised when I reached 100 followers... two months ago... I was asked for fluff, but this is what the fic turned out to be. It’s quite long, so I’m not sure if anyone has the will and energy to read this, but to everyone who does and enjoys it: big thank you! 

Word count: 9 904 

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It was no secret that your garden was the most admired yard in the whole village. All around the year, it was a sight for sore eyes even in winter. 

The stream where spring water flowed joyfully was frozen. The ice was too weak for walking, but its beauty made up for it. Sometimes, you did have to play a lifeguard and save children from the icy stream which was luckily not too deep. A cup of hot chocolate, fresh clothes and a blanket usually made them feel a little happier before their parents could come pick them up from your house. 

You also set tallow balls and other kinds of bird food in your garden, helping the birds survive through the cold season. The yard and the roof of your cottage were covered in thick layers of snow. Despite your home being beautiful during winter too, you loved spring. 

It was the best time of the year for your gardening hobby to bloom again. The flowers you grew were famous in the village and even people from the nearby villages and towns traveled to buy your plants. 

Maybe that’s why the mysterious man had started appearing in your garden when the weather got warmer. After his every secret visit, a bunch of the flowers you had grown from the scratch and cared for had disappeared. You were no genius but you realized soon he had been stealing your flowers. It upset you not only because the beauty of your garden suffered but because selling plants was a part of your income to be able to keep living in the little cottage. 

You had to gain courage to confront the man about it; he couldn’t keep robbing the results of your hard work. But whenever you stared at him from your window, an involuntary smile tugged the corners of your lips upwards. 

He looked focused on picking the best flowers, his brows furrowed. It was almost like stealing was his job, and he took it very seriously despite being awful at staying hidden. 

His habit of coming there would have been infuriating, but you couldn’t be that mad at him when he started tying the flowers together into bouquets. They started as clumsy and frankly quite ugly. 

By the 5th time he was rummaging through your garden, you had to do something. Not just because of the thievery but because he intrigued you. His actions were baffling, and you had never seen him before in the village. He couldn’t be from farther away; it would be stupid to travel from another town many times a week for flower bouquets. 

You slipped your shoes on and tiptoed to the garden, the soft, fresh-green grass silencing your steps. It was crucial to catch the man off guard, so he wouldn’t have enough time to run away. You felt like you had to talk to him, to know his reasons for sneaking and stealing. 

The man was crouched in front of your dear tulips, plucking them up from the soil. It hurt to watch but you couldn’t focus on that in that moment. 

You crept behind him, not too close. One deep breath in to prepare yourself and you spoke. 

“You could just buy those flowers like a normal person.” 

Against your expectations, the man in front of you didn’t seemingly get even startled. His head turned around slowly to look at you. 

Only then you noticed how handsome he was. His round cheeks looked squishable and black hair soft and smooth to touch. However, he definitely wouldn’t have appreciated squishes and pats on the head; he was clearly pissed. 

It was almost ridiculous how he looked like the angry one despite not being the victim of the theft happening right then. 

“It’s just a couple of them. You have hundreds of flowers, so why does it matter if I take a few for myself?” the man frowned. 

“Those few flowers are a few potential dollars stolen from my wallet,” you crossed your arms. 

As the man stood up from the ground, his stance intimidated you a little. He was still holding the red tulips. Even the color of the flowers was warning you about the man, but you couldn’t back down. 

“You’ll manage fine without a little extra money. I know your business is booming.” 

The man was thinking so selfishly and it really started to irk you. 

“This is the 5th time you’re here. You’ve stolen a bunch of flowers each time, so it makes at least 30 dollars.” 

“Then what do you want me to do? I don’t have money to pay for bouquets twice a week,” the man huffed. 

It was weird. Why would a grown man resort to stealing just because he wanted a bouquet he couldn’t even pay for? Sure, your flowers were lovely but they couldn’t be that enticing. 

“You could take wildflowers from the fields. They don’t cost you anything.” 

“No. I want yours.” 

“Then start paying for them.” 

“I told you already I don’t have money,” the man brushed his hand through his hair in frustration. 

Something about the situation was different, and you couldn’t shake off the sensation that the man wasn’t stealing just for fun; he actually needed the flowers. But you needed the money. Having no heart to kick him out of your garden and scream at him to never come back again, you made a suggestion. 

“Let’s compromise. You start working in my garden with me, and I’ll give you flowers for free.” 

Surprise flickered in his eyes but he didn’t let it show too long. Of course, his stoic image was more important than acting genuine. 

Maybe the man had a sense of justice and guilt after all, since he agreed, “Fine. I’ll come here tomorrow.” 

You smiled in satisfaction. Once again, another difficult situation handled with grace. It was concerning though, seeing how he had ripped the tulips from the soil with such force. How good would he be at gardening with his fierce grip? That would be left for you to see the next day. 

The next morning you woke up early, excited and nervous to see the man whose name you learned to be Choi Jongho. You should have been angry with him for stealing from you and even acting rude and self-righteous; but you were just too curious to get to know him to think sanely. 

Jongho was supposed to arrive in a few hours, so you had plenty of time to prepare a little surprise for him. After all, it was best to make a good first impression on new acquaintances – maybe you’d make a friend out of him as well. 

You pushed the oven tray in, and it took about 20 minutes for the scent of homemade bread fill the small kitchen. Some margarine, ham, and organic cheese would complement the bread well, and hopefully Jongho would like it. 

After setting the table and making delicious breakfast, you sat down on the porch and waited patiently. It was going to be a hot day, and you had been well prepared for it. Hats were essential for sunny days in the garden. 

Still, there Jongho came, marching to your house with his head covered only in hair – his hair color wasn’t of any help either in protecting him from the Sun. You were positive you had told him to dress accordingly to the weather, but after knowing him for a day you had a feeling that the man was as stubborn as a mule. 

“I see you forgot to wear a hat,” you chuckled. 

Jongho who had just arrived on the porch huffed, “I don’t need one.” 

You took a look at the rest of his outfit which was fortunately appropriate for the weather. His clothes seemed to be of somewhat thin material yet covered his legs and arms from the Sun. 

“Yes, you do. Come inside, I’ll give you a hat and some breakfast.” 

You got up from your rattan chair and gestured for Jongho to follow you only for him to shake his head. 

“I’m here to work, not to have a tea party with you.” 

It was no lie that you felt hurt by his words, brief pain deep inside your chest. Having had woken up a couple hours earlier to bake him bread had been futile, since Jongho rejected your offer with no regrets. 

“Have it your way,” you mumbled and led him to the garden. 

Jongho was just as hopeless at gardening as you feared he would be. He couldn’t have had an easier task – watering flowers – but he managed to mess it up by watering the flower itself, not the soil it grew on. 

Giving the lawn mower to him would have been too risky, since he could have driven it over your toes accidentally or on purpose, so his next task was to pull the weeds. At least his strength came in good use when he ripped the weeds and their roots from the ground forcefully. 

But it was impossible not to notice how he had started feeling ill. Despite his attempts at pretending to be a tough guy, he wobbled around dizzily and had to take short, unexpected breaks. It was obvious the lack of a hat combined with the burning sun had caused his body to overheat. 

“Jongho, do you want to come inside and have water?” you crouched down onto his level as he was sitting on the grass, holding his head and obviously feeling sick. 

“No. I need to work.” 

That damn man was like a stubborn child. 

“You can have the flowers even if you don’t work as much. I would just rather not have you faint here in my garden.” 

“Fine...” 

Pleasantly surprised by his acceptance, you walked inside your cottage with Jongho who had insisted he wouldn’t need your help to get up. 

The moment he felt the cool temperature the air conditioner provided in the house, he relaxed visibly and sighed. He was holding his hand still on his forehead, probably suffering from headache, testing his temperature or both. 

Jongho sat down on your couch at your gesture, and you brought him a big glass of water. Some of the water splashed on his lap as he took it from you with shaky hands, but it didn’t seemingly bother him. 

You watched as he emptied the glass down his throat. Jongho was probably the type to say a glass was half empty when you thought it was half full. He hadn’t even thanked you for the water. 

The two of you stayed silent for a moment before he presented a question with a light rasp in his voice. 

“Is the breakfast offer still good?” 

You thought back to the bread that had been left on the dining table, waiting impatiently for Jongho and you to enjoy it. You almost wanted to refuse his request and eat the bread slowly bite by bite in front of him just out of spite. But seeing his unwell expression tugged at your tender heartstrings. 

Soon, Jongho was munching on a slice of the bread, avoiding eye contact. His cheeks puffed out cutely while he had his mouth full of food, but you would never tell him how adorable he looked. 

“Which store did you buy this bread from? It’s pretty tasty.” 

You smiled triumphantly, your chest swelling with pride at Jongho’s indirect compliment, “I baked it myself.” 

Finally, Jongho turned his brown eyes on you. The color reminded you of soil in all the best ways. Though he definitely wouldn’t have appreciated that compliment. 

“You baked it yourself? I guess you’re a beginner still.” 

You frowned, “If you can’t appreciate my hospitability, you can go home. And no, I’m not a beginner. I’ve cooked and baked quite a lot.” 

The tension was thick as silence fell between you two once again, but you almost wanted to laugh at the awkwardness of the whole situation. Almost. 

Surprisingly, Jongho’s indifferent expression turned embarrassed, and he muttered an apology, “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just on a bad mood because of the heat.” 

It was the first time you saw him acting vulnerable – if you could even call apologizing that. Still, it made you giddy to see that he let go of his pride for a small moment. 

“I understand,” you said, voice soft, “You can lie on the couch until you feel better again.” 

“Thanks,” Jongho nodded and lied down carefully, grunting because of the headache. 

Quite soon, he was asleep, in the most vulnerable state a human could be. You knew it was because he was feeling ill, but you liked to think he trusted you – which was most likely completely delusional. 

You brought a wet rag on his forehead in hopes of it helping to bring his body temperature down. Jongho flinched a little in his sleep at the feeling but made no sign of waking up. 

After a half an hour his eyes opened, looking around for a second as if to wonder how he ended up on the couch of a woman he barely knew. That woman had cared for him, but he still threw the rag on the floor ungratefully. 

“Wow. How nice of you,” you huffed. 

“You could have told me you’d bring some old, dirty rag on my forehead,” Jongho wasted no time in answering. 

“It’s dirty only because it was on your body.” 

“Explain what you mean by that,” a raised brow from Jongho told that you had irritated him, but you were not going to back down. 

“You’re much nicer when you’re asleep,” you sighed and grabbed the rag from the floor. 

Jongho was back to his grumpy self now that he was awake and feeling better. Secretly you almost hoped he would feel ill most of the time so that he’d treat you with respect. 

“Give me the flowers, and I’ll leave.” 

The two of you went back to the garden which was much cooler now that afternoon had turned into evening. You admired the hues of violet, red, and yellow the sunset had painted the sky with. 

“I want those,” Jongho pointed at a flowerbed of light pink peonies. 

You immediately had to reject his request which was honestly more like a demand. 

“You can’t have those.” 

“Why not?” he frowned. 

It would have been nice of you to open up, to tell the reason why those flowers were important for you. But had Jongho been nice to you? No. You did not owe him an explanation. 

“Take anything else in the garden. I don’t sell or give those peonies.” 

As you watched Jongho walk into the distance with a few daffodils, an exhausted sigh left your lips. He was a lot to handle for sure. 

The next days weren’t easy either, full of bickering and Jongho messing something up in your garden. More than once, while plucking bad, dried leaves of the plants he ripped the whole flower from the soil. Every time he was picking cherry tomatoes, he dropped them on the ground and “accidentally”, as he claimed, stepped on them.  

You gave him simple tasks but he managed to cause more harm than good. His incredible strength would have been useful with carrying rocks and other heavy things, but you feared he’d drop them somewhere it would cause great damage. 

But you couldn’t help but admire Jongho’s work ethic, the way he seemed to do his best to earn the flowers. It was hard to be mad at him when he looked so disappointed in himself whenever he ruined something. 

Nevertheless, there was no reason to have him work for you when it just meant more work for you with fixing his mistakes. You also felt like he didn’t enjoy spending time around you at all; the time had come to fire him. 

“Jongho. I’ve been thinking of something,” you said softly, interrupting Jongho’s work. 

He glanced at you, “Uh-huh?” 

You inhaled and exhaled, ready to tell him the harsh reality, “I can’t have you working for me anymore.” 

Jongho looked as devastated as the flowers that had wilted due to him overwatering them in the span of many days. 

“I... I understand. I haven’t been much help here,” he sighed, “And I’m not very good company.” 

You couldn’t deny the truth of neither statements so you just nodded. 

“That’s right. You’ll have flowers as a thanks from today’s work, but from now on you have to get your flowers from somewhere else. Preferably not by stealing from someone else’s garden.” 

Jongho let out a sad chuckle. It was a relief that he understood your reasoning and didn’t fight you back on this. 

You felt pity for him and guilt, but sometimes one had to think of their own good. There was no mind in letting him ruin both your garden as well as your day. 

After you had fired him a couple days ago, you felt unpleasant emotions you hadn’t expected to experience. Despite all the bickering and tension between you, a feeling of loneliness bothered you. 

You had friends, it wasn’t a lack of friends that gnawed at you, but you were often alone in your garden. It was a fresh change from the usual routine to have someone work in there with you. Although Jongho and you hadn’t gotten along very well, you missed him – probably just because you needed some company in general. 

A basket in your hand, you strolled around the village’s market. Although it was quite busy in there, you didn’t get a sense of claustrophobia. The townspeople had respect for other people’s personal space – that didn’t mean they had respect for other people’s personal business though. Even the younger ones in the village had received the gracious gift of gossiping from the elders. 

Then, a conversation of two women caught your attention. 

“Have you seen that new man in the town?” an old lady with a hideous hat whispered louder than probably intended. 

“Sadly, I haven’t.” a slightly younger woman shook her head. 

“I can’t say I’m surprised. He has been spending time at home awfully lot. Seldom steps out of his property, absolutely never greets me when I wave at him from my yard.” 

You had to hold back a chuckle at the hat-lady's huffy tone. 

“Is he handsome?” the younger woman asked. 

“Dear God, very much so. But although you’re younger than me, it doesn’t mean he’s in your age range. I’d say he hasn’t reached even 30 years yet.” 

“I think I’ll try my luck nonetheless.” 

“Oh, Agatha. Have some decency,” the hat-lady scolded the other woman playfully. 

You were not one to gossip around with the other villagers, but that didn’t mean you were left completely in the dark. Based on the ladies’ words, it was undeniable that the man was Jongho. Honestly, it made you feel a little proud that he, who apparently rarely left home, had gone out of his way just to steal flowers from you. 

You looked around the stalls selling objects ranging from vegetables to vehicles like bicycles. Nothing extraordinary seemed to demand your attention, until a certain man appeared in front of you. 

“Hello, Wooyoung,” you smiled. 

“Well, hello there. You’re looking as dazzling as ever,” Wooyoung glanced at your looks; the way your long dress, once approved by the elders, had stains in the hem. Most of your dresses looked like that, given that you spent your days crouching on the ground and hands deep in the soil.  

“I will throw one of these eggs at you if you don’t stop with your sarcastic compliments,” you grabbed a freshly-bought egg from your basket to threaten Wooyoung. 

He didn’t seem to worry for his life and just smiled in amusement, “It wasn’t wholly sarcastic. Despite using those old, filthy rags as clothes, you’re as cute as a button.” 

“You really know how to compliment a woman,” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t resist a small smile. 

Wooyoung was the type to gossip around every time a new juicy piece of information was uncovered. You two were friends, and he was the reason you were able to keep up with the current rumors. He would have surely had something new and interesting to tell you again, and you were waiting impatiently to hear it. 

“I’ve seen the new man head for your cottage more than once... What’s up?” 

Jongho was definitely the talk of the town even though he had moved there a month ago already. You didn’t care if people were interested in him, but now that you had been dragged into the situation, you had to protect your privacy before the snooping villagers would start to spy on you. 

“He just bought some flowers,” you said. 

“With his body?” Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows, and you had to refrain from smashing one of the eggs into his head. 

“Not exactly. He helped me around in the garden. You could be of help sometime too.” 

“What do I get in return?” 

“A warm hug from a friend.” 

Wooyoung groaned in annoyance, “Not even a little kiss for your good ol’ pal Wooyoung?” 

After rejecting his attempts at charming you, which had almost become a routine, you made your way home. The basket in your hand was quite heavy, full of food ingredients for the next few days. Fortunately, it didn’t take you long to see the gate to your garden. 

What you didn’t expect was seeing Jongho standing on your porch, holding flowers in his hand. Had he been stealing from you again? 

You tried your best not to look angry, but the way you stomped to Jongho was a clear sign you did not appreciate him stealing your flowers. 

Your frustrated gaze didn’t scare him, not one bit. Although you were glaring daggers at him, he stood there proudly with the flowers. 

“Jongho. Why have you been stealing from my garden again?” 

The said man pushed the flower bouquet for you to take it. 

“They are not from your garden. They are wildflowers.” 

As you took a closer look at the flowers, you noticed that they were from the fields and ditches indeed, since you didn’t have those plants in your garden. It was fair game to pick them up. To be exact, it was a bouquet of classic white daisies. Although the flowers weren’t exceptionally beautiful, Jongho’s actions were. 

“Why did you bring this to me?” you asked as you received the bouquet. 

“I want to continue working here,” Jongho stated, “And it’s an apology as well for that one time I destroyed the roses.” 

You grimaced as you recalled the moment of him losing control of the lawn mower and driving it over your dear roses. 

“Apology accepted... I think.” 

A couple daisies would not replace the roses, but you appreciated Jongho’s kind gesture. 

“So, I’ll be here tomorrow morning,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“Hold your horses. I didn’t say you could work here again.” 

At your words, Jongho’s often so indifferent eyes turned disappointed and he genuinely looked upset. You didn’t enjoy seeing him that way but what could you do? Let him step on a wandering hedgehog on your yard? Or slaughter the fishes in your pond by pouring chlorine in there? 

Maybe you could give him an easier task. But was it possible when he didn’t even know how to water the flowers? 

“Fine. I’ll hire you. But you’ll do everything under my surveillance, until I deem your skills decent enough.” 

And to your surprise, Jongho gave you a small, relieved smile. The corners of his lips barely rose but it was more than enough to make your heart flutter. Hopefully you had finally managed to warm his icy core. 

“Thanks. I’ll try my best not to let you down again.” 

During the next week Jongho came to your garden almost every day, ready to work hard to actually earn the flowers. Even stealing them had felt better than getting them from you out of pity. 

You had set the flowers you received from him into a vase near the window. To Jongho it may have felt like they were observing him, reminding that he had better do great job now. 

“Good. Now water them near the soil instead of the flower part,” you taught Jongho how to water plants without absolutely obliterating them. 

He started pouring water like a tsunami had hit, the water coming out of the can with great pressure onto the poor flower. 

“No!” you exclaimed. 

Without thinking anything else than saving your plants, you took hold of the can to stop the downpour, your hands on top of Jongho’s. 

Although you hadn’t paid attention to it in the moment, you noticed only when he looked at you weirdly. 

“Sorry,” you muttered and instantly snatched your hands away, losing contact to Jongho’s warm ones. 

For a moment, he looked almost offended, like you had insulted him by touching him. He acted like he didn’t have dirty hands too. 

Then, a soft and amused chuckle slipped past his lips. It was like music to your ears; you couldn’t hear any malice or mockery in his voice. 

Neither of you addressed the situation as the two of you just continued watering the flowers. Despite your desperate attempts at acting like nothing had happened, the atmosphere had changed – not to worse surprisingly. 

And without noticing, you had gradually taken a liking to Jongho. Maybe even more than was good for you. He wasn’t the type you usually fell for; he was grumpy, borderline rude, and had stolen your flowers. But you could notice his stoic facade cracking from time to time, glimpses of goodness and lovability shining through. 

Whenever he messed up, he looked sincerely apologetic, beating himself up for destroying something up in your garden once again. Maybe it was because he feared he’d get fired again, or maybe he actually cared about doing good work. 

You also couldn’t help but admire the way he got more skillful with time. With some tasks he didn’t even need your guidance anymore. There was no way you’d trust him with the lawn mower yet after the rose disaster, but you felt proud, looking at Jongho get satisfied from finally succeeding in a task – no matter how simple it was. 

His occasional smiles and jokes made your chest ache. Someone would have told you it was just the feeling of being in love, but your doctor had something else to tell you. You hadn’t just developed feelings for Jongho; you had developed a disease as well. 

The chest pains and coughing that had begun to occur more often hadn’t concerned you. Only when light pink flower petals started coming out when you coughed, you contacted a doctor. 

“What is ‘hanahaki disease’?” you had asked, confused by the doctor’s diagnosis. 

The doctor had clasped her hands together, looking at you with a sympathetic, sad smile. 

“Your symptoms of chest pain and coughing up flower petals are part of it. The disease develops from unrequited, one-sided love and takes place in your lungs, growing as flowers,” she had explained, “Unfortunately, in your case it has spread to your heart as well.” 

“Will I... die?” 

“Possibly. Your only chances to live are if the person of your affections confesses that they feel the same way. It’s possible to also have a surgery but that will result in losing your feelings for them and even memories of them. However, if the disease progresses into its final stage or the one you love rejects you, you will choke on the flowers and blood.” 

“How is this disease even possible?” 

Sitting in a car, you gazed outside. Wooyoung had come to pick you up from the hospital, which was in a town nearby, still too far to walk to. You wondered why couldn’t you love Wooyoung, the man who cared for you already, who had spent almost a third of his life trying to win your affections. 

Still, you couldn’t erase your feelings for Jongho. A part of you didn’t even want to, although it would cost you your life. Just to love him for a short time with your whole heart until it stopped beating sounded better than living for long in loneliness, missing out on what could have been. To love and never be loved back is painful both mentally and physically even for people who aren’t sick, but for some people it’s harder to never be able to know what love is. What it feels like to receive a smile from your love, no matter how slight it is. What it’s like to exchange a few words even if they were just greetings, passing by. 

What it’s like to cry and scream into a pillow for hours, be the reason big or small. 

What it’s like to do anything to make them happy. 

What it feels like to die for them. 

You had it all now, the love you had craved for so long, thinking you were just unable to love. There was no way you would get the surgery if it meant losing everything you had experienced with and towards Jongho. 

It was foolish really, the two of you didn’t even know each other that well yet. Most likely, almost definitely, he wouldn’t even reciprocate your feelings, and that’d be the end. 

You were deep in your thoughts when suddenly Wooyoung’s voice brought you back to Earth. 

“What did the doctor say?” He glanced at you quickly, focused on driving. Although he rarely showed his gentler side, the quick glance was enough to tell he was worried for you. 

“She diagnosed me with hanahaki disease.” 

Wooyoung fell silent for a few seconds. You expected for him to ask next what the disease was, but he managed to surprise you. 

“Is it because of Jongho?..” 

Only thing you could do is nod and let out a heavy sigh. The trees passed by as Wooyoung kept driving in the mostly empty road, getting closer to the village already. 

“Have you considered the surgery?” he asked quietly. 

This time you shook your head and answered, “I don’t want to. Now that I’ve finally fallen in love, I want to experience it without running away from it like I usually do, being the coward I am.” 

Wooyoung gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, getting agitated by his worry for you. Clearly, he didn’t like the idea of losing you because Jongho didn’t possibly love you back. 

“It’s not cowardice. You can’t give up on your life because of Jongho.” 

“The surgery costs anyways. I don’t have enough money for that.” 

The next day, you had invited Jongho to meet you at the market. It was risky since you had no idea how he’d react to your suggestion you’d make when meeting him. 

You spotted him standing in front of a flower shop, looking through the window in concentration. Lots of beautiful flowers had been set there to attract customers. 

Quickly, you skittered over to him and smiled when he turned his head towards you. In response, you only got a nod. The mission of making Jongho fall in love with you and saving your life felt impossible when one moment he was receiving of your kindness, and the other he ignored you. 

“The flowers here are way uglier than yours,” Jongho blurted out to you. 

The shop owner, standing next to the flower shop’s door and smoking, having overheard Jongho’s words, gave him a harsh glare. He threw away his cigarette and stomped back inside, slamming the door shut. 

“Also, how does he think his shop is going to attract any customers when he is smoking next to the door?” Jongho wondered. 

You giggled. No matter how much you wanted to take the shop owner’s feelings into consideration, you couldn’t help but agree. 

“He’s quite a strange person anyways. Always comes to my garden, disguised as an old woman so he could buy my flowers without losing face,” you revealed, getting a snort from Jongho in response. 

Finally, he turned around properly to talk to you. When his brown eyes met yours, the familiar butterflies fluttered in your stomach – or maybe it was the flower petals in your lungs. Either way, you didn’t care as long as you were close to Jongho. 

“So, why did you want to meet me here?” Jongho inquired. 

You fiddled with your fingers, “I was thinking you and I could spend some time at a cafe. Take whatever you want, I’ll pay.” 

Jongho raised a brow. For a moment you thought he was going to reject your offer immediately. 

“Why?” 

“It’s a ‘thank you’ for working hard in my garden.” 

“The flowers are enough already,” he answered with no emotion. 

Your shoulders slumped. Jongho knew just how to break your heart. The hope that had been awaken when he agreed to come to the market was crushed now that he rejected your advances once again. 

“But I guess I’m quite thirsty.” 

It was his quite indirect way of finally agreeing, so soon the two of you were sitting on the terrace of a cafe that was as popular as could be in a village. 

People were walking by, the gravel under their shoes rustling nicely. It was a beautiful day, all of the migratory birds having returned from the South, and their chirping and singing reached your ears. Still, all your attention was directed at Jongho. 

He was sipping on an iced americano quietly. His black hair had fell slightly in front of his eyes, so you couldn’t see where he was looking. Sincerely, you hoped he was looking at you, longingly and lovingly in the best case. 

“I think you’ve done really good work in the garden,” you said. 

“Thank you. I’m trying my best since I still feel quite guilty for destroying your garden the first time I started working there,” Jongho simply nodded. 

Even though he didn’t seem that interested in the conversation, you felt warm just by sitting with him. A teasing chuckle left your lips, “I almost thought you did it on purpose. I mean, who thinks setting the weeds on fire is a good idea?” 

Jongho smiled, clearly amused by his past actions, “Oh, come on. It was just a moment of misjudgment. I thought it would get rid of the weeds for good.” 

“You’re lucky I have a soft spot for you,” you blurted out without thinking for even a second. 

Jongho raised a brow in his usual style, this time looking even more confused than before. 

“I-I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant you’re the best garden-helper I’ve had,” you hurried to fix the situation. 

Those kinds of slips could be even life-threatening to you. If Jongho found out you had fallen for him, he’d reject you. That would only mean a bloody, sorrowfully beautiful death for you. 

“I don’t believe that. You really have had worse workers than me?” Jongho leaned forward as if to check if his hearing had betrayed him. 

“Um, yeah. For sure. Once, my friend Wooyoung dug a hole under my shed, and it collapsed,” you lied rather not-so-smoothly. 

The man in front of you started laughing, his eyes looking like little crescents. It could have been of amusement, happiness, or mockery, but his laughter was the only thing that mattered to you. 

“Fine. Go ahead and lie to me,” Jongho rolled his eyes playfully, “That’s what everyone does to me anyways.” 

Your awkward conversation had turned into playful banter with just a push into the right direction, and you were elated that Jongho was receptive to your attempts at getting closer to him. Could you two be even called friends yet? Determined to make it happen, to earn a place in his heart, you weren’t about to give up. 

“So, why did you decide to move here?” you were curious to know which demon had possessed Jongho to make him move to such a small village. 

“I’m trying to make a person’s dream come true.” 

His response was vague, but based on his expression he wanted to avoid the topic. Not wanting to push further, you changed the topic. 

“Who are the flowers for? You’ve been quite adamant on getting them.” 

“For that person. Don’t ask more,” Jongho answered. 

The atmosphere turned strained, and you regretted prying onto his personal life. Clearly, he wasn’t comfortable sharing details about some things which you were confused about. You hadn’t realized those questions would be so private. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. 

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t know. But don’t ask those things again,” Jongho sighed. 

He got up from his seat, and you felt your stomach drop; had you really offended him that much? 

“Where are you going?” you looked up at Jongho with eyes looking pitiful. 

“Home. I have to take care of something,” he simply said and walked back inside the cafe, probably to fetch his jacket he had left to the rack. 

You were left alone with your own thoughts. The more you concentrated on the possibilities of Jongho hating your guts now and never wanting to see you again, the more you felt the familiar urge to cough climb up your throat. 

You couldn’t stop the violent cough fit or the petals that slipped past your lips painfully, falling to the wooden planks of the terrace. People were watching in concern, glancing at you and whispering to each other. That was the least of your worries now. Only Jongho mattered. 

Once the final petals fell, you decided it was time to leave. There was no mind in staying there, just wallowing in your own sadness. You didn’t know if coughing up flowers even was more painful than hearing Jongho’s cold, aloof voice. 

But when you walked inside the cafe to pay for his iced americano and your own drink, the barista told you a handsome gentleman had already paid for them. 

Your heart was about to swell so big that it could burst if it was poked with a needle. There was still hope. Jongho wasn’t completely out of reach, he didn’t hate you; there was no way he could, since he had paid for both of your orders. 

You didn’t want to listen to the growing voice in your head that nagged something was wrong. 

But the voice didn’t leave you alone even during the night. The nights weren’t as dark as in winter, but it didn’t make you feel better. Your soft bed swallowed you in just like your anxious thoughts did. You were nearly drowning in them. Thoughts about Jongho already having someone he loved bothered you. 

You couldn’t ignore how likely it was. After all, he had mentioned giving the flowers to someone. 

You tried so hard to sleep, to finally stop the thoughts for a moment, but they refused to leave. A headache was starting to knock on your temples. 

The thought of Jongho giving those flowers to some beautiful woman, flashing her a smile he never gave you. The thought of his warm fingers brushing against the woman’s while they exchanged words of affection. 

It made your chest ache. Lately, the pain had been getting worse day by day. To be honest, you were scared. The increasing chest pains, the bloody petals, the thoughts of Jongho loving someone while he rarely even smiled at you. There was no way to win other than by making him fall for you. 

But if he was already with another woman, you were not going to do the crime of stealing her man. That woman did not deserve to get hurt like that no matter how much you wanted Jongho. 

You had slept the night extremely badly – if two hours of keeping your eyes shut could be even called sleeping. Still, the excitement of seeing Jongho again flooded your veins with energy.  

In your energy burst, you prepared breakfast and fresh drinks for him, not even remembering the first day he had worked for you and rejected the bread you had baked just for him. It was like you never learned from your mistakes. 

Glass by glass, the self-made lemonade you had prepared disappeared into your stomach as Jongho never came. You waited for four hours. 

By the first hour, you were sure he was just late, the poor man running to your house. 

By the second hour, you thought he had slept in. He would wake up, panicked and call you to inform with his attractive morning voice that he would come soon. 

By the third hour, you considered he could be sick and couldn’t come. 

But when you had been waiting for four hours already, you had lost hope. Even thinking that Jongho had forgotten was too hopeful; surely, he just didn’t want to come. The once blue sky had been covered in black clouds, dark like your thoughts. 

Waterdrops started falling one by one, soon turning into a heavy rain. At least you didn’t have to water the plants that day. 

Unable to move for a moment, you kept staring into the distance, imagining that Jongho would run in the rain to your cottage and ask for shelter. Oh, how you wished you could just receive some basic respect and love from him. 

You gathered the plates, glasses, lemonade can and breakfast back into the basket, ready to go inside. Once again, your attempts at serving him breakfast and spending a peaceful morning with him had been destroyed. Did the universe or Jongho hate you? Despite having known him for a month already, he didn’t even give you a chance to get to know him on a deeper level. You weren’t asking for much; just normal conversations about your lives without feeling the need to hide something. 

Then again, you were hiding things from him as well. The hanahaki disease was progressing, getting worse every day, but you could never tell Jongho the truth. It was for your own safety – not just for the safety of your emotional well-being but your life. 

Jongho hadn’t appeared for a week. Every day you sat on the porch, waiting to see him walking to your garden. But there were no sightings of him even when you asked the other villagers about his where-abouts. 

The longer he was away, the worse your disease got. Whenever you coughed, more blood came out. It splattered on the floor and left a taste of iron in your mouth. Sometimes, the flower petals, which began to get bigger and thicker, got stuck in your throat and you had to dig them out with your hand. 

Despite all the love you had for Jongho, you began to realize you couldn’t let this go on. It could be too late soon if your hanahaki disease progressed into the final stage. The thought of never seeing Jongho again, feeling love for him, or remembering him broke your weak heart, but the thought of dying had begun to terrify you worse. 

The shorter, fun days in the garden turned into mentally and physically tiring work, lasting over 10 hours per day. Flower sales went up and people came to look at your garden every day, buying everything ranging from seedlings to jams you had made from the last year’s berry harvest. It was summer; while it was the busiest time of the year for you anyways, this time it was different. 

You tried to gather the money for the surgery. It was decided. Jongho wasn’t even around, and as the days passed, your condition got gradually worse. The chest pains lasted longer, a piercing feeling poking all around your heart. 

There was no way you could let Jongho keep working there; you needed those flowers he would choose as his payment. Money was more important to you now than it had ever been. 

You had tried to call him countless times to give him a chance of explaining. Just hearing his voice could have changed your mind about the surgery. Eventually you had to send a text message to Jongho, telling him you didn’t want him back in your garden again. He would never set a foot on your soft grass again or pick up flowers from the flower beds. 

Except that’s exactly what he was doing. 

One evening, you gazed from the window, deep in thoughts, and caught a glimpse of someone in the garden plucking up flowers snatched your attention. Immediately, you realized it couldn’t be anyone else than Jongho. 

You ran outside, not bothering to wear shoes. Your mind was racing and feelings conflicted. There he was again, in front of your eyes, at your reach. Were you excited to see him or mad at him for stealing your flowers? 

But when he turned around to look at you, you saw him properly and got your answer. You were definitely mad. 

As if stealing flowers from you again wasn’t bad already, but what he was holding in his hand was what made you see red. 

The only flowers you had told he couldn’t take had been ripped from the ground, leaving an ugly mess behind in the flower bed. He was holding your light pink peonies. The flowers would be dead in some days, just a memory of memories. 

“What have you done?!” you ran up to Jongho. 

It was impossible to determine if you were heart-broken or furious. Maybe there was only a fine line between those things anyways. 

“I can pay for them,” Jongho suggested, seeming surprisingly guilty. 

“I don’t want your shitty money! Those peonies were important to me.” 

Jongho’s confusion and guilt moved aside as he started defending himself, “Uh-huh? What importance they could even have to you?” 

You felt your blood boiling, threatening to burn your insides. The audacity Jongho had made you wonder how could you ever have fallen in love with a man so selfish and uncaring. 

“They are a remembrance for my parents, being the only flowers that are left from the time they were alive. Don’t you see how selfish you are being?” you took a step forward, glaring at Jongho with all your might. Maybe he’d die from your gaze, or maybe you’d die from heartbreak. 

His angry expression faltered for a moment, but he regained his control, “I’m not doing this for selfish reasons.” 

“You’re still being incredibly selfish towards me!” 

Jongho walked closer to you and looked straight into your eyes, “And why should I care?” 

The coughing was beginning again but you stood your ground, “I thought we were friends,” your voice broke a little in the middle of the sentence. 

“Then you thought wrong. I don’t have friends. You mean nothing to me.” 

You gasped. Jongho probably thought it was out of shock, but that was not the whole truth; you had started having trouble breathing. 

“You asked who the flowers are for?” he shook the peonies in his hand, “They are for a woman I actually care about. Who I love.” 

You had known it. Jongho was already in love with someone else and had been getting those flowers for that woman. All the signs had been there, but you had been such a fool in love that you lived in the delusion of him being able to love you back someday. 

“Hey... What’s wrong?” he asked as he started noticing your weird behavior. 

You couldn’t respond. The end had become; Jongho had rejected you. The coughs had started, but you knew it would not help. Too much blood, too much flowers. Too little time. 

You clutched at your throat desperately, but what use would it be? Your windpipes were full of the petals and would continue to be. All because you loved a man who couldn’t spare even an ounce of empathy for you. 

As you fell down on the grass on your knees, painting the ground with blood and petals, Jongho seemed to finally realize something was horribly wrong. 

You saw him calling someone, probably 911, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. Everything felt too fast, but it was better than to die slowly. The noises around you were starting to get quieter and slowly your sight blurred. You would have wished to see Jongho at least holding you during your last moments instead of talking in phone. Maybe he wasn’t even calling 911. He could have been talking to the woman he loved. 

But what had you expected? You meant nothing to him. 

It was dark for a long time. Felt like an eternity but nothing at the same time. 

When your eyes finally opened, you couldn’t even recognize what you were looking at. Your sight was blurry, could have been because you just woke up, but the tears in your eyes were the main reason. Why were you crying? 

In your mind, there was no cause for the tears. You couldn’t recall any moment that could have made you cry. There was a feeling of something missing in your chest, an absence of something you had grown used to. It was impossible to pinpoint it because it was like even your mind had a hole. 

After a moment, you could see what you were looking at: a ceiling. It wasn’t a surprise since you were lying down on a bed. With a few glances to your sides, it was clear you were in a hospital. An IV pump was connected to your hand with a tube. 

“E-Excuse me,” you murmured, not knowing if there even was anyone in the same room. 

Given the fact that it was not unusual for patients to be in the same room, you shouldn’t have gotten startled when a female voice answered behind a curtain dividing the room. 

“Do you need a nurse? Are you in pain?” 

She sounded young and kind yet weak, her hoarse voice indicating that she was in the hospital for a good reason as well. 

“Why am I here?” you asked. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t know. But you were under anesthesia most likely. You were asleep when they brought you here,” she answered. 

A heavy sigh pushed past your lips. You felt so tired both mentally and physically. The hole in your mind felt heavy, like something important had been ripped away from you, and you couldn’t remember what. 

“I hope you’re alright, and you won’t have to stay in the hospital for long. It gets quite boring here,” the woman behind the curtain continued. 

You smiled slightly although she couldn’t see it, “How long have you been here?” 

It was quiet for a moment as she pondered her answer, the only sound being the beeping of the machines around you. 

“Too long. I moved to a nearby village about two months ago, and I’ve spent most of the time in the hospital.” 

Despite her sad revelation, it surprised you how hopeful she sounded. It must have been awful to stay most of the day inside those four walls. 

“How much do you go out? It’s so beautiful outside,” you wondered, hoping that the question wasn’t too intrusive. 

She chuckled, “That’s the sad thing. It had been my long-time dream to move to the countryside to see the nature. I had been hospitalized for so long, and I was excited to finally get released. Now, my condition has worsened again.” 

You felt your heart ache for her. The world was so unfair; to give that sweet woman hope only to crush her dreams later. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

When she spoke, you could hear the smile she had on her face, “It’s okay. At least I have my brother. He brings me flowers often, so I could have a piece of the nature here with me.” 

The emptiness inside you throbbed at her words. Most likely, you just felt lonely, and you hoped Wooyoung would visit you. 

“That is so sweet of him. Does he live in the same village?” 

“He moved there with me. Honestly, I don’t deserve him,” she spoke, “He has been paying for my hospital bills for years, and I’m just a burden. I don’t even know how he affords the flowers he brings me.” 

A frown settled on your face at the woman’s words. How did she dare to call herself a burden? Every person is a burden to other people, some on purpose and some against their own will. The woman you were talking to was definitely not a burden so that she could take advantage of her brother’s kindness. 

“Your worth can’t be measured by some amount of money. You bring happiness to your brother by your presence and existence, and no money can pay for a true, caring relationship,” you reassured. 

“Thank you,” the woman spoke, sounding genuinely grateful. 

Then, the door opened and a man came in. He had black hair and was wearing clothes that didn’t reveal much skin. 

The man had a neutral face, eyes directed straight forward. But when he glanced at you quickly, his expression betrayed him. Feelings of surprise, sadness yet relief flooded over him, and he didn’t even bother hiding them again. 

With quick steps, the man approached you. The two of you just looked at each other, the other one confused while the other one had tears prickling his eyes. He held two flower bouquets tightly in his both hands, and he pushed the one with daisies towards you. 

“I came to see you.” 

“May I ask who are you?” you tilted your head. 

“I-I’m sorry...” the man bit his lip, clearly overwhelmed by his emotions. 

“That’s not a name,” you chuckled. 

The woman behind the curtain, having recognized the man’s voice, spoke up again, “His name is Jongho. He’s my brother.” 

You hummed in acknowledgement, “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard good things about you.” 

The man named Jongho did not look pleased. Devastation furrowed his eyebrows, and his lips quivered. You couldn’t understand why he had brought you daisies; you hadn’t met him or his sister before. 

“Don’t you remember me, Y/N?” 

You shook your head as an answer. Feeling quite worried for him, you wondered if you had lost your memories at some point. It would explain the hole you felt inside your mind. 

But you remembered everything else: your parents, all the years with Wooyoung, your garden. Every moment had been captured into your memory bank, but Jongho was a complete stranger in front of you. 

“I used to work for you. I-I had been stealing flowers from you but you suggested I’d start working in the garden to earn the flowers.” 

“I think I’ve lost my memories at some point. I can’t recall ever talking to you,” you mumbled apologetically. 

Tears started flowing down Jongho’s cheeks, and it looked like he wasn’t even trying to hold them back, “You taught me how to water flowers.” 

You couldn’t resist a surprised chuckle, “You didn’t know how to do that before?” 

“I also told you that you mean nothing to me... Just minutes after that, I had to call the ambulance,” he clenched tighter to the bouquet as he mumbled his revelation. 

That made you silent. Maybe you had known that man after all, but you still couldn’t feel anything for him. No hard feelings, no love. 

“Then I guess it’s fair now then. I mean nothing to you and you mean nothing to me.” 

Your honest words hurt Jongho visibly, but he forced an understanding expression on his face. 

He set the daisies on the nightstand next to your back-breaking hospital bed. Just looking at him made the emptiness grow. You didn’t doubt his words about the two of you knowing each other, but despite feeling bad for him, you sensed it would not be wise to reconnect with him. 

Jongho disappeared behind the curtain, obviously going to his sister. Their whispers were not audible enough for you to hear what they were talking about, but it was clear his sister was frustrated. 

You listened to them talk while trying to recollect memories of Jongho, of the times you supposedly knew him. But nothing came to mind. The more you tried to reach for the memories, the more it felt like the emptiness grew. 

Later on, Wooyoung had come to visit you. His revelation made you finally understand why you had lost all of the memories regarding Jongho. 

“You almost died, Y/N. Because of him,” Wooyoung held your hand a little too tight. It was clear he was trying to hide the turmoil deep inside of him, the fear of almost having lost you, “The doctors managed to save you with an emergency surgery.” 

Although he had told you that you had been in love with Jongho, which had caused you to develop hanahaki, you couldn’t remember anything or hold any fond feelings nor hatred towards him. Jongho’s rejection had almost taken your life, so you understood now the hope and sadness his eyes had shown. He must have been feeling guilt. 

Being in the hospital was not cheap but the cost of the surgery terrified you even more. Sure, you had gained money from selling the flowers, but it was not enough. You had to consider selling your cottage, to leave the house you had grown up in and the garden you had played in with Wooyoung since the age of five. 

One morning there was an envelope slipped in through your mail slot. 

Dear Y/N, 

This is the least I can do for you, but the most I can do in this situation. 

With best regards, Jongho. 

In addition to the letter, there were about 20 bills of $100 inside the envelope. It was the most Jongho could do to help you in paying for the surgery, given the fact that he was short of money due to his sister’s illness. It wasn’t nearly enough to cover all expenses, but you felt gratitude towards him. He wouldn’t have had to pay for anything; after all, he hadn’t known about you having the hanahaki disease. 

Eventually, the cottage was put on sale. You grimaced at the thought of someone buying it, making it their own, and possibly ruining the garden full of the memories of your childhood. It was the end of summer when you closed the front door of your home for the last time. 

Some days you blamed Jongho for ruining your life in just a few months, but he hadn’t brought only destruction into your life; you and Wooyoung had grown closer to each other because of him. There was no need to even ask for Wooyoung to let you stay at his place before you’d find your new home. The moment he found out you were selling your house, he suggested you to move in – said he wouldn’t mind if you stayed your whole life there in his care. You had answered, laughing, “You can’t even take care of a houseplant. How are you going to take care of me?” 

After that he had bought over 50 houseplants to prove your point wrong. Only one survived his tough love, but it was enough. After all, there was only one of you as well. You wouldn’t have wanted to compete for his attention with some plants anyways. 

[mothwingwritings]

Can we have Ren/Fox (TPOF) and Mc with a child?Long after Fox decided to stay with MC, they both had a daughter (probably not something with consent and a bit of Stockholm syndrome).The daughter asks her mother how she got the scars and this makes MC have memories of post-traumatic stress.

I was so tickled by this ask that I started manically typing out a response for it nearly as soon as I saw it in my ask box (which at this point, was quite some time ago. Forgive me, I am a mess lul). I wrote the whole damn thing in a fit of passion, excited to release it into the world… But ultimately hated it and thought it was garbo, so I scrapped it and tried again. Wrote a second iteration and thought ‘hell yeah, this is it!!! Sick!’, but then I read it AND HATED THAT ONE TOO AAAHHH!!!

I rewrote this… so much…

But I never give up on my dreams, and you shouldn’t either! Persevere! Don’t give up on yourself! Here’s your daily motivation for the day! Keep writing even it makes you cry!!! :D

Anyway, so I wrote this third one, comprised of new stuff and the stuff I actually did like from the first two stabs, and it ended up being the one. Truly it is a Frankenstein of a fic lol. Regardless of all the reworking, I had a lot of fun writing this and enjoyed the prompt very much!!! I I hope you enjoy reading it just as much. :)

I’m sorry if the writing seems a tad too mature for the reader’s daughter in this, writing children isn’t my forte. ^^;

Due to the nature of this fic, IT IS 18+ ONLY!!! Thank you!

WARNINGS: Incessant mentions of abuse of all kinds for reader and mentions of physical abuse for her child!!! Reader is heavily scarred from said abuse and that’s a main theme in this fic so please avoid if that is upsetting to you. Also, though not the main focus, there are multiple mentions of child abuse in this fic, as well a part where reader goes off verbally on her child, so please be mindful of that as well! Other things of note: reader is a parent in this (which you can probably tell by the prev warning lol), reader getting hurt, blood, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, being held against your will/isolation, mentions of noncon, sad family stuff :(

Diminishing rays of afternoon light splayed through the open window of your quaint living room, casting a comforting orange glow over everything they touched. The light gave the environment an ethereal and nostalgic feel, wrapping you in peaceful warmth as the sun sunk lower and lower. The loveseat you occupied was plush and inviting, and a mug of your favorite tea stood at the ready on the small coffee table beside you, steadily cooling with help from the last hurrah of winter blowing in gently from the outside. Besides the slight chill, the wind brought with it the heavy scent of freshly bloomed flowers, a delightful precursor to the oncoming spring.

Relishing the rare moment of serenity, you couldn’t help but wish that all your days could be this lovely.

You smiled down at your daughter who sat perched in your lap, happily flipping through the newest gift she had acquired from her Father- a thick picture book full of bright illustrations highlighting various exotic animals. As it lay sprawled across her tiny lap, her chubby finger pointed out each animal she took an interest in, her high pitched voice chirping away as she explained what she liked about the creatures. She got particularly excited when she spotted the page full of foxes, jabbing at the red one feverishly as she exclaimed “its daddy!”

Spotting the foxes began her down a path of assigning an animal to not just herself, but you as well. She didn’t find it fair that only her father had kin in the animal world, even though you pointed out that she technically did as well by sharing half the man’s blood. Your revelation did little to deter her, she wanted something new, something just for herself, and she wasn’t going to stop until she found her perfect soul animal. So she continued on, scanning each page in earnest until she found a creature that suited her.

She ended up picking a bunny for herself, supplying you with a comprehensive reason as to why she chose it. As she explained in great length, skimping no details, you couldn’t help but hold back laughter. She spoke as if she were a professor teaching a class, and you did your best to keep a straight face as she yammered on with her shoddy reasoning, deep down knowing she only picked a rabbit because of how cute they are.

After she was done waxing poetic about bunnies, she continued scouring the book, coming to a halt once she reached the wild cat section. She stopped with a gasp, beaming up at you as she pressed her finger firmly against one of the images on the page.

“Mommy this one is you!”

Your eyes traveled to the picture she was rapidly tapping, “An African Wildcat, huh?” You smirked down at the little girl in amusement, “Why did you pick that one for me?”

“Because it looks just like you!”

You chuckled at her enthusiasm, “It looks like me? How so?”

“It has marks just like you do!”

Her innocuous words sent a chill up your spine. Eying the stripes that crossed the cat’s legs, you felt a great unease begin to overtake your body. Her reasoning was not lost on you, the cats coat did quite resemble the jagged scars that covered nearly every inch of your body, and just like the feline in her book, your limbs were the most prominent location of said ‘markings’. You quickly shook your head, not wanting to dwell on it further. In hopes of moving on from the subject, the outpouring of words that flew from your mouth were jumbled and messy.

“O-oh, I see,” you stuttered, clearing your throat to steady your voice, “well you certainly picked a cute animal for me! Thank you baby, it was a good choice.”

She smiled at you innocently, a gesture that usually made your heart melt with affection. But as her tiny hands moved from the book to your arms, that smile did nothing but fill you with dread, the realization that you wouldn’t be getting out of this sticky situation hitting you like a brick to the face. 

“Yeah mommy, the kitty’s marks are just like these ones,” her stubby fingers gently traced the old wounds, a look of reverence reflected on her cherubic features. “They make you look like that kitty mommy,” her little voice cooed, “I like them a lot!”

Your muscles constricted at her words, a slight tremor coursing through you as you involuntarily tightened your grip on her. She took note of this, looking up at your strained features with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Don’t be sad mommy,” she spoke assuredly, “I really do like them! I think they are pretty!”

Her words burned you, scorching the inside of your frozen shell of a body, leaving you feeling sickly and discombobulated. The room around you started to spin in a hazy blur, a wave of nausea making you nearly wretch. Your breathing grew erratic as you tried to calm yourself, inwardly repeating that your daughter was just a child, a little girl barely four years of age who had an incredibly limited view of the world. Her words were not meant to upset you. Her opinions were coming from a place of total naivety.

Yet still, the mental assurance did little to help with the extremely uncomfortable position you now founds yourself in. It wasn’t as if this was her first time noticing your scars. She had mentioned them before, her curious mind trying to piece together the reason that her arms appeared different from your own. Each time she brought your old wounds up you couldn’t help but feel flustered, responding with weak explanations and misdirection to try and quickly brush off her questioning.

The marks came from a silly mistake, or a childhood accident, or from a careless moment when mommy should have been paying more attention. It was always excuses on repeat. How many lies had you told her on this topic alone?

But even if they were lies, it beat telling her the truth. You didn’t want to have to explain where the scars on your body actually came from to anyone, let alone a child, and especially not to your own daughter. How could you possibly word it gently, or in a way that she would understand, when you barely understood why you had them yourself? How could you look her in the eye and tell her that these markings were a permanent sign that you had been very, very hurt and that it was her own fathers hands that inflicted the pain?

Reliving the horrific moments that left your body in such a state was overwhelming enough on its own, but to also have to lay bare her father’s sins, relay to her the unsavory proclivities of a man who she idolized and adored, was not something you were keen on doing.

She didn’t know her daddy like you knew him. She was ignorant to the constant state of concern you lived in, unaware of the worries that plagued your mind and kept you up each night. All the troubles of the hell she had been born into were completely lost on the small, carefree girl.

But honestly that was for the best. You had made an unspoken promise the moment she entered your life that you would protect her no matter what. From the day of her birth onward it became your mission to keep her as happy and healthy as possible.

Ren had broken you, but she did not have to suffer the same fate.

At this point in her life, your daughter knew nothing of her daddy’s profession or ‘hobbies’, and you wanted it to remain that way for as long as possible, if not for the rest of her life. You dreaded each time Ren came home from an auction, terrified he may let casually slip too many details about his ‘lively client’ or that he would carelessly step through the door with the stains of his liaisons still littering his clothes. Your daughter was at an age where she was brimming with questions, and she was relentless in getting answers to each question she asked. Everything had to be explained in complete detail for her to be satisfied, drop the subject, and move on. She was a smart little thing, possibly too smart for her own good. You highly doubted a silly joke or wave of the hand would assuage her whirring mind should Ren grow too impetuous in her presence.

And should her questioning become too pesky, you fretted over what Ren’s reaction to it may be. The more you tried to avoid thinking about it the more you seemed to fixate on the topic, pondering just how much goading it would take from your daughter before his temper would rear its ugly head.  You, above anyone, had firsthand experience in just how volatile the man could be, the scars that littered your body a testament to his turbulent emotions and violent outbursts.

Looking back on it now, it’s a wonder you survived any of it at all.

Ren often told you he loved you, each confession spoken through honeyed words that spilled from his lips easily and often.  And while you didn’t doubt those words (you knew better than to, at this point), you also knew his sweet nothings weren’t merely a term of endearment, they also served as your curse. He loved you, but he also loved your fealty to him, your adoration and worship of him and only him. Should you not reciprocate his feelings as quickly or ardently as he expected, the mere thought of whatever punishment he would concoct was enough to send you into a debilitating panic attack.

There were few things he loathed more than when you flinched from his affection or if you exhibited any sign of distress towards his presence, especially after he had spent so many years going above and beyond to provide for you, devote himself to you. You had learned early on to keel any feelings of aversion you had to his advances, several of your more prominent scars a brutal reminder of that misstep alone.

 If your daughter uncovered the truth and saw her father for who he truly was, if she began to fear him the way you feared him, how would he respond?  If not only his partner, but his own daughter started shying away from him, what length would he go to to correct this behavior?

Dwelling on it made your skin crawl.

But perhaps all of your worries were asinine. Despite his inclination for cruelty, Ren had never so much as raised a hand towards your daughter, even when she did act up. If anything, he was overprotective of her, barely letting her move faster than a brisk jog lest she fall and hurt herself. He hated seeing his little girl experience even a modicum of physical pain, mentioning to you previously that were he able, he’d keep her locked up in a padded room all day and night to prevent any foreseeable accidents or injuries. Surely it was just his idea of a joke, but the insinuation still made you cringe.

It was almost comical, just how greatly the manifestation of his affection for her differed from how he showed his love for you.

His domineering nature shielded her from experiencing any true pain. Every scrape, bruise, and cut she ever received was superficial, nothing that caused major bleeding or left a lasting impression. She had no way of knowing what had been done to you to cause the scars that marred your form, the torment and hell you experienced with each slash, smack, burn. Hell, she probably didn’t even really understand what a scar actually was. All she knew was that her mommy and daddy had strange marks on their skin that didn’t follow any kind of set pattern, weird jagged lines and indents that her soft skin was curiously free from. The mystery of it all was as puzzling to her young mind as it was enticing.

However, some mysteries were best left unsolved, and just as with each other time she brought up this hot topic, you found yourself unable to look into her clear, bright eyes and tell her any semblance of the truth. She may have been forced upon you, but she was your daughter. You loved her, and you refused to be the one to shatter her innocence. You would keep her ignorant for as long as possible, shielding her to the endless nightmare of your daily lives, even if it cost you your sanity.

“Mommy,” her voice jarred you, dragging you from your thoughts, “mommy did you hear me? I said I think they are pretty!”

“T-that’s… I…” You stuttered, struggling to find the right words to say, your voice coming out much smaller than you intended it to. The room felt like it had dropped thirty degrees, your body twitching in response to the sudden chill.

“Daddy told me he gave some of them to you, like this one,” her pudgy, cold finger pressed into the faded heart that resided on your chest, the first of many indelible sins he had etched onto your form. Only the top half of the carved symbol was viewable above the collar of your shirt, so she tugged at the loose hem until she could see it in its horrible entirety.

“Daddy said he gave you this one because he loves you so much,” her voice grew quiet, a thoughtful look in her eye as they drank in wounds you wished you could forget, “Daddy loves me too, right mommy? You think he’ll give me a cute heart someday too?”

You felt as if you had been hit by a train.

“S-top,” the words were forced from your throat, airy and breathless, as if someone was wringing your neck to make them come out, “p-please, just stop talking.”

“What did you say mama,” your daughters sing-song voice responded as her fingers continued to trace and prod your scars, “You are whispering, is it a secret?”

“I told you to SHUT UP!”

As if following your command, your booming voice instantly silenced the small girl. Unused to such a violent outburst from her mother, her happy-go-lucky nature quickly shifted to one of alert, her tiny body going rigid as she stared up at you with fearful eyes.

Seeing her in such a state and knowing that you were the cause of it would normally have killed you inside, making you fall to your knees to beg for the child’s forgiveness. But right now, the thin thread that had been holding you together had snapped, and your words rushed out in a torrent you couldn’t begin to quell.

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” You seethed, clasping your hands to your ears to try and block out your own intrusive voice, “Just STOP TALKING about it! What are you even saying? Why would you ever want to look like this?!”

Tears started to flood your eyes, blurring the image of the girl who had quickly jumped from your lap and was now cowering before you. Through your bleary vision, you could see tears were brimming her eyes as well.

“You… You have no idea,” your voice warbled, shaking in equal parts grief and frustration, “You have no clue what you are saying, so just STOP IT. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT AND DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!”

You slunk from the chair down to the floor, burying your face in your cold, stiff hands. The soft blubbering of your daughter could be heard through your own sobbing.

“I-I’m sorry mommy. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Hearing her broken voice began to shatter the spell you had been under, instant regret jerking you roughly back to reality. Your head sunk lower, your body scrunching itself up as tightly as possible to hide from this cruel reality.

Your screams were born from deeply buried feelings of hatred, tucked far, far away as a means of self-preservation. For a moment, you felt as if you despised your daughter, her existence tethering you to this wretched excuse of a life, binding you irrevocably to Ren. But as you lifted your heavy head, glancing up to stare into her young face, a face so very similar to your own, a face contorted in panic and sadness over her mother’s abrupt descent into madness… you realized it wasn’t her that you hated.

It was yourself.

Your daughter didn’t deserve this. She deserved normalcy. She deserved a father that didn’t pose a threat to her. She deserved a mother that wasn’t ruined by his hands. She deserved a happy and untroubled life, not to be stuck being raised in a barbed cage, navigating her way through life with nothing but the shattered remains of a battered woman to guide her.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked under the weight of your overwhelming emotions, snot and tears running freely down your ruddy cheeks and chin, “I’m so, so sorry baby…”

“What the hell is going on?”

You hadn’t heard the front door open, nor had you heard Ren’s jubilant greeting as he entered your home. He had no doubt been upset by the lack of welcome-it was one thing to be ignored by a child, but his doting wife? That was not something he was not apt to look past.

But surely any feelings of annoyance or frustration fled from his mind the moment he entered the room, his eyes falling upon your crumpled, messy form collapsed on the floor. You cursed his arrival, upset that he entered the scene at such a compromising time, right as you were struggling to regain an ounce of composure and properly apologize to the little girl who had done nothing wrong.

“D-daddy,” your daughter’s voice warbled as she barreled towards him, colliding into his waiting embrace. You wiped at your face in a desperate attempt to hide your previous outpouring of emotions, doing your best to avoid eye contact with Ren as his sharp gaze quickly flicked from you, to his daughter.

This had already become enough of a scene without Ren’s interference, it was best to try and begin damage control now. 

“Daddy I-I made mommy cry!” Tears continued to pour from your daughter’s eyes, her face twisting into a look of pure dismay. Her misguided admission of guilt made you recoil, knowing full well it would grant her no favors with the person she seeking comfort from. “I’m really sorry daddy! I didn’t mean to!”

After several endless seconds of silence, Ren spoke.

“… You made her cry?”

His voice was far sharper than it needed to be, further agitating the precarious state of affairs. In most cases he would have offered your daughter leniency, letting her get away with far more than she probably should. However that leniency was null and void if you ended up suffering in the process.  Ren could not forgive anyone that caused you any duress (himself, of course, being the exemption) even if that person was his own flesh and blood.

“What do you mean you made her cry? What the hell did you do to her?”

“I-I don’t know,” she wailed, a fresh wave of tears spurred on by the accusatory tone of her father’s voice, “I just told mommy I thought her marks were pretty and then she started crying! I wasn’t lying daddy, I like them! I think they make mommy look really pretty!”

“Her marks…?” Ren’s look of vexation began to dissipate as the meaning of her words donned on him. He lifted his arm, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his own scars to the little girl. Pointing a clawed finger to them, he leaned down until he was looking her in the eye, “You mean like these?”

As she nodded her head vigorously in confirmation, Ren tutted, “That’s the reason for all the water works? An innocent compliment started all this fussing?” He scoffed, shaking his head, “Isn’t that a little bit… silly?

You tensed at the sound of his barking laugh, your frown deepening as an amused grin spread wider across his lips. You wished that you could say it was shocking for him to have such disregard after finding the two of you in such an agitated state, but it was painfully in character of him to shrug off your misery and suffering as inconsequential.  How he could so nonchalantly normalize this hellish situation he kept you and your child ensnared in, you would never understand.

Your daughter was apparently sharing similar thoughts, as her face began to once more morph into a pre-sobbing scowl. She was no doubt wounded that her father was not offering her the comfort she was seeking, her emotional state already greatly weakened by her mother’s venomous tantrum.

To help quell another round of tears, Ren pulled the child closer, wrapping her up in his arms so that her tiny form was nearly enveloped by him.  “Shhh, no more tears angel,” he cooed sweetly, patting her head gently to appease her, “There isn’t any reason to cry, especially because… Well, you’re right! Mommy’s whole body is pretty, isn’t it? Her marks just compliment the beauty that’s already there.”

Slowly but surely, her tears began to dissipate. Hunched over shoulders loosened, and sniffles and hiccups gave way to even breathing. Like clockwork, her father’s gentle handling soothed her, the same touch that destroyed you offering her salvation.

As if under a spell, the turmoil that had overcome your daughter quickly began to vanish, her sobbing fading into quiet sniffles. Once she was fully calmed, Ren continued speaking, “That’s all you meant to say to mommy, right angel? I’m sorry she took it the wrong way, she’s probably just tired or hungry, you know how mommy gets. She’ll get over it in no time flat!”

Heat spread through your body at his flippant dismissal of your feelings, an indignant blush lighting your cheeks as you gripped your hands tightly at your side. Your previous emotional episode left you all but drained, but your will to fight back against his callous commentary could never truly be contained.

“In fact, I bet she is already over it now,” Ren’s voice took on a jovial tone as he directed his focus solely on you, “Aren’t you, pumpkin?”

With the ball suddenly in your court, you flinched as both sets of expectant eyes fell on you. Your own eyes darted from Ren’s piercing glare, down to your daughter’s wide-eyed look of unbridled hope. You felt much like the rabbit that had been caught by the fox, stuck in a lose-lose situation. Seeing him hunched over her small body as she clutched to him as a life line, openly concerned that her mother may once more reject her while her father remained a bastion of strength and understanding, left you reeling. Either you would get heated again and stay the villain, but possibly hold on to an ounce of your dignity, or concede to Ren and have yet another piece of your soul wither away and die-the price to pay so that your daughter could remain in blissful ignorance for another day.

“Aren’t you, pumpkin?” He repeated himself slowly, enunciating each word. The kindness in his voice serving only as a mask for the threat buried beneath.

“Y-yes,” you responded quickly, shooting them both a smile you hoped was convincing, “I am very sorry, baby. Daddy is right. Mommy is just… tired.”

A serene smile lit her face, your words placating her. Seeing her happy once more helped relieve a bit of the ache in your own heart, making the lie worth it.

“Good, good,” Ren affirmed with a nod, carefully detaching himself from your daughter as he stood, “but you know little one, mommy deserves some love too, don’t you think? She may have been in the wrong, but it’s not nice to make her cry like that. Why don’t you go give her a hug, hm?”

With no further persuading necessary, she quickly padded over to you, hopping on your lap with so much enthusiasm that it nearly knocked the wind from you. Her arms tightly latched around your torso as she smushed her face into your chest, rubbing it back and forth like she was trying to burrow beneath your skin.

“I love you mommy,” her voice spoke clearly, any hint of previous sadness long gone. You sighed, relieved that this dramatic chapter was over as you pulled your daughter closer to you.

“I love you too.”

During this show of affection, Ren had made his way behind you, slinking so deftly you hadn’t even known he had moved until you heard him chuckle softly behind you.

“This is what I like to see,” he spoke with a sickeningly dreamy sigh, “nothing makes me happier than when my two girls are happy.”

He placed his hands gingerly atop your shoulders, trailing them down until they rested on your arms. His thumbs pressed gently against the marred skin, rubbing in a small circular motion in an attempt to subdue you. His claws grazed your flesh, uncomfortably scratching against you as they snagged against your skin.

He planted a firm and lingering kiss to the side of your head, pulling away just enough that his lips grazed the shell of your ear. “There really was nothing to cry about,” he whispered breathily, his words quiet enough that despite your daughters’ proximity, she would have no chance of hearing them. “It’s almost unfair how gorgeous you are, scars and all. But you must know that, right my sweet pet? I tell you all the time.”

Ren took in a deep breath, releasing it in a shaky sigh, “Seeing these scars reminds me of all we have been through, all that we share. They are a symbol of our bond.”

One of his claws pressed down sharply, a small bead of blood pooling around the piercing. Leisurely he began to drag his finger up your arm, a thin red line following in its wake. You shivered at the burning sensation, but deigned to give him any reaction further than that.

“Don’t forget pumpkin, these pretty marks are a reminder of my constant love for you.” He chuckled softly, peppering a few kisses to the back of your neck while his claws slowly sunk deeper, “And right now I am feeling  terribly sentimental, so for old times’ sake, why don’t I add a few more to remind you just how precious to me you are~?”

[ellecdc]

could we get cbbh the first time sirius and reader are alone after the victory? i feel like in the rush of everything and with suddenly becoming parents, any real reaction they might’ve had to it finally being over would have to be pushed down and away. i just imagine remus or someone taking draco carefully from their arms and saying “go rest. go process.”

CW: don't read this if you haven't finished our Marauders Come Back, Be Here Series - this one shot contains spoilers and will ruin the fic if you plan on reading it. some angst, hurt/comfort, implied PTSD and a scared hopelessness which is combatted by gentle encouragement and care. fear of what's happened and cautious hope for the future

CBBH Sirius Black x Vix!reader who take a moment to process the end of the war [1.2k words]

The November wind howled outside of 12 Grimmauld Place as Sirius shut the door behind you and Draco; Remus, Lily, James with Harry in his arms all turning to give you a sad smile that ended up being more of a grimace, though Harry - sweet Harry - still had his ever present smile on his face. 

“That was…that was nice.” Remus tried then, helping Lily out of her jacket so she could take Harry from James, allowing him to take off his own. “It was a nice funeral, I think.” 

“I’ve not been to a whole lot.” Lily admitted quietly then. “With the war…there were so many deaths but… not many funerals.” 

James hummed at that. “Mum and Dad’s…that was a nice funeral.” He offered quietly, smiling shyly at Sirius who offered him a wide, watery smile in return, though it fell quickly. 

“I…I don’t even know what to say.” Sirius continued. “Like…what now? What- what do we do?” 

“Now,” Regulus drawled as he walked into the room, eyes on you as he held his arms out for Draco who reached for him willingly, “you breathe.” 

“What?” You rasped, though if Regulus noticed you hesitate relinquishing your hold on Dra- your son, he didn’t mention it. “Where are you going?”

At the sound of your panic, both Remus and Sirius reached for you; a hand on your shoulder and your waist respectively. 

“I’m going to put Draco down for a nap.” Regulus explained calmly. “And you’re going to go breathe.”

“But-”

“Hey, love.” Sirius interrupted, pulling you closer to him. “Maybe that’d be good, hm?”

“I think you two have a lot to catch up on.” Remus offered then with a kind smile, and you pretended not to notice the pitying look your oldest friend was giving you. 

Regulus had since left the entryway, but Sirius continued standing with you as the rest of the family vacated. 

“Do you want me to go get him, Vix?” Sirius murmured then. “Regulus didn’t mean any harm by it.” 

“I know.” You whispered back.

“Do you want me to go get him?” 

You thought about it; really thought about it. You’re not even sure how many days it’s been since you found yourself at the Potter’s Cottage in Godric’s Hollow. It felt like both a lifetime ago and yesterday that you rediscovered the people who meant the world to you. It’s been….months of fighting for your life…

“Vix?” Sirius whispered, gently wrapping his arm further around you to pull you in closer. “You okay?”

“No.” You answered. “I- yes, I mean yeah. I’m okay. We…we can leave him, Draco- I think. Right?” 

If Sirius was bothered by your nervous rambling, he didn’t show it. Instead, he pressed a chaste kiss to your temple before leading you towards the staircase by the small of your back. 

The two of you changed in silence; you, hiding in the closet with the door closed (but not entirely), shame coursing through your being at not feeling entirely comfortable around the one person who would do just about anything to keep you safe, and he, having no such inhibitions, stripping fully naked in what was supposed to be your room but quickly became your shared room. 

Out of your funeral clothes and into something a touch more comfortable, you joined him at the foot of the bed, perching yourself on the edge and listening to the wind whip past your window. 

“Hardly even two weeks ago,” Sirius started softly; face pointed straight forward as he stared out unseeingly at Grimmauld Place, “you…were gone. You were dead. I- I was trying to figure out how to get by without you and then…”

You huffed out a breath as he found his words.

“-and then you fell out of the fucking sky and-”

“And then we found out one of your greatest, oldest friends was in on a plot to kill us all.” You continued for him.

“And then I lost you again.” 

“And then you played dragon slayer.” You teased, mustering up the best smile you could manage, and it seemed that Sirius, for his part, was grateful for it. 

“We became parents,” he added, now looking at you as his eyes seemed to search yours for something, “a week ago…we somehow ended up with a child.”

“I failed her.” You whispered then, and Sirius stiffened as he fully turned his body towards you.

“What? Vix, no. How could you even say that?”

“She saved me, Pads and I…I failed her I couldn’t- I couldn’t even return the favour.” 

“Y/N…”

“Everything that happened, everything that I lived through, I-” you paused, rubbing your lips together as you searched for the words. “I always told myself…there was a purpose for it all, you know? I…I thought that… I could get through it because I had to, because I was trying to help, I was trying to save people.” 

Sirius allowed that to sit in the air as you took over watching the cars pass by on the street below you. “I feel like I failed.”

“You didn’t fail, love.” Sirius insisted. “Of course you didn’t.”

“But-”

“Narcissa died protecting her son.” He pressed. “She saved you, that’s true, but that didn’t kill her. Bellatrix did.” 

You listened to the wind and the sound of Sirius’ hand rubbing up and down your back. “I owe her a great deal, Siri.” 

Sirius let out a long sigh before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “I think you’re already paying her back, Vix. I owe her everything too, you know. I…she saved the most important thing in her life, but she also saved the most important thing in mine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t tell you to be sorry.” He offered gently as he shook his head, lifting one hand to brush a few strands from your forehead. “But you’ve spent the past nearly half a year trying to save the world on your own. I just don’t want you to think you’re doing it on your own anymore, or that you have to ever again.” 

You nodded, but you must not have seemed convinced enough for Sirius.

“You spent so long surviving, and mostly on the behalf of everyone else. The world is yours now, Vix; maybe now you can live again. We both can.”

“I… I’m not sure I know how to live in this world anymore. I don’t know what to do with all this hurt.” You admitted slowly; feeling the weight of the words as they left your lips, speaking them without even having realised you were thinking them. 

“Then we’ll learn.” Sirius decided, words both determined yet gentle as he took your hand in both of his. “Together, yeah? We can learn how to live in this world - hurt and all - together?” 

You looked at him then; grey eyes pooling with hope and determination that felt so familiar coming from him. Like Sirius was incapable of feeling anything but hope and determination, like it was simply his baseline. 

And because he seemed to be so sure, so certain, so confident in his decision, you couldn’t help but share some confidence in him in turn. 

“Okay.” You agreed then, and something very warm and comfortable bloomed in your chest at the slow, almost shy smile that grew across his face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You agreed then with more sincerity. “As long as it’s together.”

His smile fell so soft as he lifted a gentle hand to pull your lip from between your teeth with his thumb. “I’d have it no other way, Vix.”

[leviathanlazarus]

In Your Fantasy

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x (F) Reader

Word Count: ~5300

Warnings: semi-public sex (like...very low-key), oral sex (F receiving), unprotected PIV sex. 18+ only ~

This took me forever to finish because I started it before my stupid tonsillectomy and I was totally useless throughout most of the recovery. Also, it's been absolutely ages since I wrote a Jake x Reader fic so I'm not sure how I feel about it...I really enjoyed writing this regardless of my trepidation though. I loved the idea of falling in love with him at work and him being so cheeky...hope you enjoy it too <3

P.S. also ages ago, I wrote a Josh x Reader fic that also took place in a library which you can read here. Links on my desktop masterlist aren't active for some reason...but I found it using a certain tag lmao. If you know, you know.

---

You were finishing up fixing the order of some art books in the back of the library when you felt Jake come up behind you. “Wanna hear something kind of crazy?” he whispered in your ear, his chin nearly on your shoulder, his hair brushing against yours. Without even seeing him, the closeness and warmth of his body and the low, husky whisper sent a tingle up your spine–he certainly added a level of intrigue to working in a library. 

“Always,” you said, slipping the last book into the correct spot. It was a quiet Thursday afternoon–you’d thought it’d actually be busier given the rain that kept bucketing down outside, creating an even cozier atmosphere, but maybe people just wanted to stay home with their books instead. That was fine by you. You liked it when it was nearly dead silent throughout the building and Jake was there to occasionally break through, his voice a river through your thoughts and his subtle touches all shockwaves to your heart. 

When you turned around to face him, Jake looked like he was holding back a hilarious joke or something, eyes all eager and a grin tight on his lips like he was bursting at the seams. “So I just went to the bathroom and guess what I heard?” he went on, raising his eyebrows. 

You scrunched up your nose, already worried. This wasn’t what you were expecting when he’d said ‘something crazy.’ What sort of craziness happened in libraries anyway? “There are a lot of things I can think of. Is this a gross story?”

Jake chuckled. “It depends on your definition of ‘gross.’ Okay,” he said, looking around to make sure you two were still alone in the section. Then he looked into your eyes again and lowered his voice even more to tell you, “There were people fucking in there.” 

You scoffed, offended on behalf of the library–the sacred, beautiful space where people went to relax and read, not deal with lewd conduct. That wasn’t crazy, that was just offensive! “What, like two guys?” you questioned, tilting your head, a little irked at Jake finding this all so funny. 

“No, a guy and a girl.”

“Ugh. That’s even worse. Women shouldn’t have to deal with getting laid in a men’s bathroom,” you said, then were momentarily distracting yourself with yet another out of place book on the shelf.  “I’d never do that. I can’t believe someone else is. I mean, kids go here.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Jake said slowly. He leaned against the bookshelf and looked at you pointedly, his dark eyes even darker in the dim light. “Then again–”

Before he could finish, you had another thought. “Wait, Jake–did you say anything to them?”

“No. What could I say? I just high-tailed it out of there as soon as I heard.”

You sighed. The whole thing would be far more redeemable if your boyfriend had at least tried to throw out some warning words to the perpetrators. “You should have told them to stop. I would have.”

“I’m sure they finished soon after I left.” He smirked. “It sounded like they were pretty close.”

You groaned quietly and turned away, preferring to find another thing to busy yourself with now. “Gross. They should be banned.”

Jake followed along right at your side as you whisked through the rest of the art section and back to the cart you needed to empty. “I didn’t see who they were, so no chance of that.” At the cart, he put his hands on it, keeping it in place. “I actually thought you’d find it sort of amusing, Y/N.”

You leaned over, almost close enough to touch your noses together. “You’re such a guy. Only a guy would think it’s amusing and not disgusting.” 

“I don’t know about that. Maybe you’re just a little stuffy,” Jake replied, tilting his head up as if he were challenging you. “Although maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, considering we’ve never done anything like that.”

You scoffed again and leaned back, surprised and still a little irritated, but also genuinely curious. “Oh, so you want to fuck around in a public place? That’s something I didn’t know about you.”

Jake’s challenging stance turned crestfallen, and he lifted one of your hands to press a kiss to. “Forget I said anything about it. I mean, I suppose you’re right–it is kind of gross.” He kept your hand clasped in his for a few seconds as he said, “But I’d never make love to you in a public bathroom. I’d hope you know me better than that.”

You looked over your shoulder at the sound of a man clearing his throat, settling down into a chair with a newspaper. He wasn’t paying any attention to you or Jake, but you gave the cart a push anyway, cajoling Jake off it so you could navigate to where you needed to go next. 

“It’s really the fact that it’s the bathroom that makes it so gross,” you whispered as Jake kept following you. You couldn’t deny you’d had some secret fantasies about getting it on in the library–after all, it was where you and Jake had met and where you continued to spend the most time together. But none of your fantasies included the restrooms in the hall, or the utility closet or that little corridor tucked away across from the restrooms where the vending machines were. Too grody, too cramped, too obvious.

“At least our bathrooms are clean.” Jake parked himself right next to you once you were in the biography section, and when you stepped away from the cart, he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you in place. “But if I’m being really honest, I have thought about us, well, fooling around here. I think it’s quite surprising we never have.”

“Jake,” you said in an attempt to protest, but his sweet, pretty face and ticklish touch on your waist made you giggle, and his confession that echoed your own secret thoughts lit a little spark. “We work here!” 

“So? All the more reason. It’s always been our special place.” Jake smiled as he got even closer to kiss you; you kissed him back, looping your arms over his shoulders. He was smiling even bigger when you both broke away and he said, “You know, it’s just me closing tonight. You should stay after with me.”

“God, and do what?” you replied, but, despite yourself, you were growing more intrigued. 

“Well, don’t you think the study rooms here are nice and cozy?” Jake questioned, still latching himself to your side as you started to put more books away. “There aren’t any cameras in any of them either. No one would know.”

You looked up at him from your crouched position, sliding a book into place. “Someone would know. Someone would find out somehow.” You were quickly finding even more perfectly good reasons in your mind not to do this, to not even really toy with the idea, but the more you thought about it, the more you thought, why not? Could the risk make it more fun? Even just the new, ill-fitting, sort of scandalous environment? 

Besides, Jake really did look hot today. He looked hot every day, but the second you’d seen him after he’d come into work earlier, he’d lit a fire in your belly that was more intense than usual. His hair had the perfect level of slight messiness and the relaxed black button-down shirt was perhaps one or two buttons shy of being overtly inappropriate for work; the smooth tan skin of his chest exposed and acting as a lovely backdrop to the long silver chain dangling, the pendant hitting his sternum. You could imagine tugging on that chain, grasping the pendant in your palm, to pull him closer while he pressed you against one of those thick wooden tables. You’d run your fingers through his hair and kiss him in the frozen silence, and maybe no one would ever know after all.

“I can practically hear the wheels turning,” Jake remarked, tapping your forehead once you were standing again. “You know you want to.” 

You let out an inadvertent nervous giggle and rolled your eyes. “Yes, I’m thinking about it.”

Jake stepped closer, pressing you back against the cart of books. “I’d love to hear some of those thoughts,” he said, putting his hands on your waist.

“You’re lucky it’s dead here today,” you said, keeping your voice a whisper despite the, indeed, dead library around you. You rested your arms over his shoulders, twisting a strand of his hair between your fingers; Jake just kept looking at you with that sweet, silently begging gaze until you giggled, relenting. “Okay. I was, um…thinking about you pushing me down on one of those big tables.”

Jake’s eyebrows rose. “What else?”

“Well…” you began, looking down at his dark jeans rubbing against your skirt. “You’re giving me some more ideas now.” You lifted one foot off the floor to rub your calf over his, the delicate material of your tights creating subtle but scintillating friction against his denim. 

Jake ran the tip of his nose up your cheek and whispered in your ear, “Same here.” 

Just as you were closing your eyes and allowing yourself to let your environment fall away around you, to forget about all the risk of being caught right there, and just as Jake’s hand was sliding down between your legs, a person’s incredibly soft–thanks to the clever carpeting job–footsteps headed your way yanked you right out of the moment.

Jake, too. He shot back and cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair and looked in the direction of the footsteps; you did too, and soon enough an older woman with her nose already in an open book trotted past the shelves. 

“See?” you whispered, gesturing at the passer-by who was already out of view. “It’s so easy to get caught.”

“Please, that lady didn’t notice a thing. Alright,” Jake said before he stole one last hurried kiss. “I should let you keep doing your job and I should carry on with mine. But will you stay after with me tonight?”

You pursed your lips as you looked at him, considering, but it wasn’t long before you said, “Alright, Jake. I’ll stay after and we can play out your little fantasy.”

“It’s your fantasy too, baby doll,” Jake said with a wink before he half-turned, beginning to step away. “I think we’ve established that.”

-

There wasn’t a whole lot to keep your mind occupied as the afternoon carried on. The rain kept coming down, hammering hard against the roof and windows, and the sky outside was pure gray, all flat and blank. It reminded you of your first day working here, as a matter of fact–that morning in the previous late October, when autumn’s chill was officially in the air. A fine layer of frost had even been on the ground that morning; your shoes had crunched over it on the short walk to your car and you’d had to use your defroster once you turned the key, your anxiety peaking as you had to wait even longer to start the new job. 

How could such a quiet, peaceful place encite so much anxiety anyway? You remembered wondering that very question as you walked over the sidewalk to the library entrance for the first time since being hired, the concrete slick with that morning frost and the beginnings of a gentle rainfall. And just when you’d been settling in and getting comfortable, Jake had showed up and introduced himself, all casual and easy like he didn’t know he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

Thankfully, Jake was also the sweetest man you’d ever met. It didn’t take long before his beauty and charm stopped intimidating you and instead just made you feel all light and full of joy–you were simply happy to chat with him whenever you both could spare a few minutes. Those few minutes steadily turned into shared breaks; then, shared lunches where you’d sit out back on the one picnic table when the weather permitted. Then he started bringing you special treats sometimes, things he knew you liked because he actually listened about what you liked, and then after that he started bringing you whole lunches packed with love and care that you’d never experienced before. 

So, after all that, was it really such a big deal to make love inside the place in which you fell in love?

None of your other coworkers even seemed to notice that you were staying later than planned this evening. But, just to be safe, you also made a point to hide out in the kid’s section when closing time crept up, busying yourself with cleaning up stray crayons and markers and then browsing through some of the newer picture book additions when you were done with that. 

When you were sliding one picture book back onto the shelf and reaching for another, you noticed the part of the library beyond the kid’s section dim; you stood up and walked out into the main area, and there Jake was behind the checkout counters flipping switches.

“Despite almost always being the one to close,” he said, flipping another switch. “I still sometimes forget which lights actually get turned off and which ones stay on.”

A path of yellow light led the way past the checkout and reception, past the few rows of public use desktop computers. Jake held your hand as you both stepped through the library, your heartbeat speeding up a bit with nervous yet delightful anticipation; a few more steps and you were further into the very back of the library, just about there. Four study rooms were staggered just beyond the teen reading section, two on the left and two on the right with a wall of windows in between. 

Jake opened the door to the last study room on the right. A large window was in there too, soaking in the deep sunset that was resting beyond the grass outside and the trees, and the mostly-bare branches of all the trees were throwing shadows across the library grounds. Then Jake flipped the light on, making it all disappear.

“Oh no,” you said, reaching behind him to flip it off again. “It’s sort of magical with the light off. Look at that sunset.”

Jake followed your gaze out the window to the wash of deep blue painted across the sky, nighttime so early in autumn that only a slight sliver of golden-orange remained just on the horizon. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago and had left a lingering mist on the ground, its faint haze trailing along just outside the windows–the whole scene was so much more peaceful than what was going on inside your head. You couldn’t shake the possibility of getting caught even though Jake was right about there being no cameras back here, and there was no one else around, not even any of the custodial staff, and not a soul out there in the fog. Just you and Jake in the little dark study room, his hand still warm around your own.

Your thoughts started to drift away, making space for your mind to comprehend the shadowed image of Jake before you as he gently turned you to face him. He smiled with the slightest bit of white teeth gleaming between his full lips, and you instinctively smiled back, pulled under his charm again. So, now effortlessly charmed and put at ease, you wrapped him in your arms and pulled him close, caressing his shoulder blade with one hand and the slight curve of his waist with the other as both of your smiles disappeared into a kiss. 

“You were making me crazy all day,” he remarked between the kisses that accelerated with both of your lips parted and the wet meeting of tongues. 

“Really? You kept it well-hidden.” Of course Jake did–you never doubted his affection and passion for you, but he kept everything so private. It was one of the many things you liked about him. You cupped the back of his head, sinking your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails just the way he liked it, and kissed him again.

“God, your ass in this skirt,” Jake said, voice a little rough, and he reached down to grab you there. “The way your hips move.” He licked his bottom lip as he took a moment to just look at you, his eyes scanning your face. “So unbelievably pretty.”

You held the side of his face. “You are too, Jakey.” He really was, and even in the dark–perhaps especially in the dark, actually. The shadows enveloped him in even more mystery than normal, but you could still so plainly see the angles of his face and the smoothness of his skin in the faint, distant glow of the lingering sunset. Jake smiled at the sound of that little nickname coming from you, then disappeared as he pressed his lips to yours again and pushed you back against the table just like in your little fantasy. 

You felt the warmth of his hand travel around your hip then slide down over your skirt; you kissed him harder and spread your legs a little wider when his fingers skated effortlessly up your thigh over your tights. Jake purred against your mouth as he traced the seam of those tights, and subsequently the crotch of your panties beneath, with one fingertip, and your own hands hurried down his body with much less grace to squeeze his ass and feel the hardness between his legs as reciprocity. 

Before you could do much more than that, he was pushing your skirt up all the way with one hand and continuing to use the other to tease you. Your breath caught in your throat as you were finding yourself trying to stay silent despite the library being completely empty; Jake carried on with longer, deeper touches over the crotch of your panties and tights. The steady back and forth of his fingers over the two thin layers of fabric sent a delightful tingle of pleasure up your spine but you couldn’t forget his either–you kept that one hand of your own on his crotch too, gently squeezing his erection through his pants.

Jake huffed softly and kissed you again; you clutched his arm with your other hand, squeezing his bicep. Maybe other people didn’t mind getting caught–maybe there really was some sort of thrill to it. Maybe other people actually sometimes wanted others to witness their most intimate moments but you didn’t. You couldn’t imagine doing this with the lights on in the middle of the day, with the soft noises of people beyond the walls and the risk of someone catching a glimpse from opening the door or from outside the windows. You were perfectly happy with having Jake all to yourself in the shadowed little square study room, his skin so perfectly warm, his kiss so perfectly molded to yours.

“Was this part of your fantasy?” Jake questioned as he slowly sank to his knees, keeping your skirt bunched up over your hips with both hands now. But it was obvious what he was doing, so you took their place to keep it out of the way while his hands squeezed your thighs as he pressed his face between your legs.

The scant sharpness of his teeth over your crotch made you gasp. “Maybe,” you answered, thighs quivering against the table behind you.

“Oh, come on,” Jake beckoned, looking up at you with a sweet but slightly mischievous gaze, his eyebrows raised just enough to display teasing curiosity. 

“Seems like you already know,” you replied, stifling a giggle at him struggling to get your tights down from beneath your skirt. 

“I don’t know how you wear these things,” he remarked, which made you actually let out a laugh.

“Just rip them for fuck’s sake,” you instructed, eager now, already wet for him. “They’re not expensive.”

Jake didn’t hesitate. “If you insist,” he said as he grabbed a fistful of black nylon in each hand and ripped the tights right open, then quickly pulled your panties to the side next, giving you no time to think at all anymore. Whatever words your mind may have found merely turned to shaky breaths as you watched Jake’s face disappear between your legs again.

He gave a little hum just as he went straight in, the bridge of his nose rubbing up against your clit while he dove his tongue into your center like he really did want to eat up all the arousal that had been conjured up just for him. Your fingers found his hair again, knuckles curling to tug the long strands while your nails scratched his scalp again and he let out a little pleased sound, almost like a gratified laugh, and dug his own blunt nails into your inner thigh as he kept you spread open. 

One word finally emerged from your lips–Jake’s name, simply spoken in a soft tone as the ministration of his tongue and lips had you squirming and quivering even harder, your heels digging into the carpet below as you slightly struggled to stay upright. The repeated flicks of tongue over your clit disappeared for a brief moment, then slowed to one long drag of his tongue over your center just to start that quick pace again. Sighs and whimpers were dragged out of you with each lick; when Jake slipped two fingers in, the slow but easy stretch made you tremble and clench your fingers into his hair even harder.

“You’re so tight,” he commented when he pulled back just enough for you to look down again and see your own wetness glistening on his lips and chin. You could feel it too, how much tighter you were clenching around his fingers as he gently thrust them and teased, curling them and now rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“You’re so good,” you told him breathlessly, closing your eyes again when the sensations had you arching your back. You hissed and bit your lip when Jake’s mouth found you again, his tongue teasing your clit more while he slid his fingers in deeper.

You had thought it would take more of a conscious effort to relax in this space and just let go, but it was easy, so easy–you just let your body respond to Jake with each tremble and moan and gasp and tug at his hair until your legs were outright shaking. Panting, the peak rising deep inside, you pulled him closer and he obliged, sucking on your clit as his fingers curled and gently tugged deep inside you too as if he was literally trying to pull you right to the edge you were already rapidly careening to.

His name from your lips once more wasn’t a soft little sigh; it was a sharp, long whine that seemed to boom in the little study room. Your ferocity surprised you even more when the overstimulation came on so soon and you yanked his head back with one hand and shoved him away with the other, your hand gripping his shoulder. Panting, eyes still shut, you could feel how much wetter you were with his saliva and the rush of your orgasm, the fluid soaking your panties that were pulled to the side and even the very inside of your thighs. 

Jake pressing a kiss to your thigh made you look down but he was getting up on his feet now; your gaze followed the steady movement of his rise and then you were whisked away into blissful darkness again when he closed in and kissed you–close-lipped because he was so polite. But you parted yours and slid your tongue over his and gripped his waist tight for a moment before hastily getting those buttons on his shirt undone, fingers trailing all the way down to get his pants undone next. 

He tentatively pushed you back onto the table a bit more so your feet were off the floor, legs still spread wide around him and dangling when he pulled his pants and underwear down just enough to reveal that heated hardness. His cock leaked just a bit as he stroked it once, looking at you, and a blip of that old insecurity born from adoration and fascination stroked your brain, because Jake was just so beautiful and his beauty was so much more stark in contrast to the plain white walls behind him. 

“That was intense,” Jake said with a chuckle, leaning in to kiss you. You sighed against his lips as he slid the head of his cock all through your wet center, making a point to rub longer and harder over your clit. As he slid in, taking your breath away entirely, he sighed too and you watched his shoulders drop and his chest flush and he asked, so casually, “Is your fantasy being fulfilled?”

Even with the impact of Jake’s cock filling you so perfectly, you had to laugh. “You're a fantasy, Jake,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, to make the head of his cock hit so deep inside you that you gasped again as if you weren’t expecting the feeling. “What about–” You had to pause when Jake gave his first thrust. “What about your fantasy? This was all your idea.”

“It was a shared idea,” he reminded you with the cutest little smile. How could anyone be so sexy and adorable at the same time, especially during the actual act of sex, especially when that sex was taking place inside a public library? But he was, and you kept your eyes on him as he steadily sped up with his hips and his hands explored your body over your clothes, one squeezing your breast through your shirt and the other smoothing down your waist, your hip, traveling around your thigh.

“Oh god,” you chirped when Jake’s fingers made contact with your still-sensitive clit; but he was gentle, clearly deliberately being slow with the little circles he was making. With your arms still a loop around his shoulders, you sank your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and held him there for a minute before the soft pink of his chest became too tempting not to touch.

“Fuck yeah, that feels amazing,” Jake said in that deliciously hazy, husky voice after you slipped your hands past his open shirt to toy with his nipples. Bringing more attention to him put your lingering overstimulation in the background–you continued to tease with one hand while the other skated over the other side of his chest, feeling his warm, soft skin, up to his neck. You caressed him there, your fingers lightly touching the tender skin along his throat and then up to his ear, and Jake moaned softly and tilted his head to try and get more contact.

That was fine by you. You lightly scratched behind his ear like he was a cat and he sort of purred like one anyway, making you giggle; Jake giggled too and surged forward, picking up his pace as he whisked you away with another series of kisses that were deep but just sloppy enough for your mutual moans to be voiced. 

But, also to your surprise, Jake began to voice more thoughts between increasingly ragged breaths: “Remember when we first met?” he asked, his fingers over your clit sliding down to get slick again from your own arousal. “That was–fuck, that was such a good day.”

“It was,” you agreed, playing with one of his earrings as your other hand squeezed his pec. “I’m lucky I even got the job here. For a lot of reasons.” You stole another lingering kiss before adding, “You’re the biggest reason.”

Jake smiled. The sunset that had been just barely clinging to life when you’d both began was gone now–the only illumination was coming from a parking lot light that was too far away from the windows to see, but the pale yellow glow was scant enough to see that alluring, mystical beauty that your boyfriend possessed. Just looking at his face was enough to make you come again.

But Jake’s skilled fingers and the heat, weight and stretch of his cock still thrusting into you certainly helped. You buried your face against his neck now that you had access to all of him; a thick sob was muffled as you tightened and spasmed around him, and you heard him let out a quiet “wow” as the second orgasm rolled through you. 

His fingers on your clit, thankfully, moved away. He gripped your thigh again instead; his pace was now messy and fierce, and you had to fight to stay in place not only from the harsh movements and how the table you were sitting on was skidding a bit across the floor, but also from that second round of intense bodily excitement. 

“God,” you huffed, stifling another laugh. Apparently it didn't matter where you were–if you were with Jake, he just gave you the giggles. “You’re really going for it.”

Jake cradled the back of your head, messing with your hair a bit. “And I’m–hmm–almost there.”

You kissed him softly and sweetly, from his collarbone and up his neck to his ear. “Good boy,” you whispered there, giving his ear a nibble. Jake moaned wordlessly in response and gave one last deep, solid thrust that jostled you backwards and made the table creak, then he went slack over you, his whole upper body all loose and so hot that warmth was radiating through his shirt.

When Jake lifted his head, you leaned back and waved the back of your hand over your forehead with a silly “whew” motion; Jake laughed and nodded, then slowly pulled out. He collapsed forward again, resting his head on your chest, and you wrapped your arms around him once more. 

“Well, we’ve done it once. Do we ever need to do it again?” you asked, petting his back.

“Like, um, sex?” Jake asked, mumbling against your chest. “Or sex in the library?”

“In the library, duh,” you said with a chuckle, and kissed him when he lifted himself up and looked at you. 

“Where else should we do it?” Jake replied, his tone and little smile making it obvious he was kidding–finally. You were glad to have played out this little fantasy and do something new and a little risky, but you’d be even more glad to just go back to the way things were. Nothing wrong with a classic. 

“Our bed, definitely,” you said, and Jake smiled and nodded again; you began working on buttoning up his shirt. “Our couch. The floor. Maybe the shower.” 

“Maybe?”

“Last time we tried the shower, you nearly cracked your head open,” you reminded him, lifting a hand to cup his jaw. “And nearly broke your perfect teeth.”

Jake’s smile grew wider. “That would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”

“I’d never forgive that stupid shower.”

Jake patted his hands from your shoulders down the length of your body, stopping at your ankles. “Well, babe, we’re both in one piece now, aren’t we? Time to close up?”

“Definitely. The custodians are probably going to be here any minute.”

“Oh my.” Jake held your hand to bring you off the table. “That would have been quite the show for them.” 

“No more shows,” you said as you both put the finishing touches on getting yourselves decent before Jake opened the door. “I should be the only one looking at you when we fuck.”

---

If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can let me know here or DM me :)

Tagging: @kissingsun @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @milojames16 @mindastreamofcolours @wetkleenex-gvf @itsafullmoon @heckingfrick @peaceloveunitygvf @musicspeaks @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta

[itsangelll]

"𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒" ღ

pairings: 2008 Tom x f!reader

warnings:THIS IS NOT PROOF READ I apologise for any spelling mistakes. Eating out Dom!tom sub!fem!reader praising

A/n: finally another fic posted 😭 I hope you enjoy <33

You were going to one of Tokio hotels meet and greets, they announced it months ago and you've been dying to go, when you bought the ticket it felt like ages went by until the day finally came. You saw Tom sitting there, his usual beanie and cap, dreads hanging out of the back, the baggiest clothes you've ever seen.

It shocked you when you laid eyes on him. never knew a man could seriously be that gorgeous, as you waited for what seemed like ages, it was finally your go you’ve never been this nervous before in your whole entire life. You first got greeted by Bill, Gustav, then Georg, then finally it was Tom. He looked up at you his demeanour changed very quickly, his eyes softening.

“Hallo” he said in that German accent you were gonna fall (let this happen to me) but greeting you like any other fan “Hi” you smirked a tint of red showing up on your cheeks.

He was really sweet and kind of flirty, playing with his lip piercing from side to side as he looked you up and down. As you were about to leave he grabbed your hand, his hand resting on yours a soft smile spreading on his face “Here take this” He said shyly, you grabbed it and smiled brightly. You were really hoping it was his number it was! “call me sometime xo” his number was scribbled on the note.

You looked behind you seeing him one last time before you left, he caught your eye winking, before turning his attention back to another fan. You couldn’t believe it you were ecstatic you seriously got your celebrity crushes number, you felt like this was all a dream but it wasn’t. After that you guys went on a few dates chatting for hours, getting kicked out of places staying up all night with each other, sending some lewd pics to one another as well.

e seriously did care for you respecting your wishes of not doing anything sexual, cause you were nervous but you never told him the truth was you thought he wasn’t gonna enjoy it and that you’d fuck it up. After around 6 months of dating you and Tom were sitting on the couch you were scared but you wanted to.

“Tom can I talk to you about something?” turning around to face him “Mm sure schatzi what’s up?” turning his face to yours, you sucked a deep breath in finally building up the courage to talk to him about this “I’ve been thinking lately and well I’m ready” your eyes darting towards the ground he grabbed your hand “are you sure? cause we don’t need to if you are-“ “I want to.”

Interrupting him, you couldn’t even comprehend what you just said or what even got you saying this but one thing led to another, Tom grabbed your hand and led you upstairs when you guys got into your room he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you close then placing his lips on yours.

Wrapping your arms around his neck your lips moulded with his, melting into his touch. You’ve never been this close with anyone before, but with Tom it felt amazing adrenaline was pumping through your veins each passing minute.

Tom pushed you softly on the bed, removing his shirt revealing his toned torso, you couldn’t help but wander your eyes around his body, “are you really sure about this?” He asked tracing circled on your thigh you nodded, He took off your shirt and skirt leaving you in your pink lace set, Tom groaned at the sight of you “you look beautiful” his tongue grazing over his bottom lip.

He hooked his fingers around the sides of your underwear softly sliding them down and throwing the piece of clothing somewhere in the bedroom, his eyes wandered down to your wet glistening cunt, “such a pretty sight” he murmured. Tom moved your legs apart giving more access, he dipped his head between your legs without any warning his tongue delved deep into your wet soaking cunt.

You couldn’t help but moan you had no idea he could be so good at this, “Fuck Tom yes please just like that” your hand tangling in his hair he let out a groan of satisfaction, he attacked your clit kissing and sucking showing no signs of stopping your head was spinning your eyes starting to go glossy from the pleasure.

His hands gripped at your thighs bound to leave marks tomorrow, he moved his tongue up and down between your folds hitting that g spot repeatedly arching your back, your thighs suffocating him but he loved that feeling, he loved that he knew no one could ever get you feeling like this ever. His hand moved up to kneed your breast, your nipples hardening underneath his touch, “Fuck Liebe you taste so so good.” his voice vibrated against your cunt.

You felt pure ecstasy the way his tongue felt on your clit was amazing, the knot in stomach tightening each minute “T-Tom im close” you moaned out your legs starting to give in gripping his hair even tighter his tongue moved faster against your clit, with that you came all over his tongue. He moved his mouth once at your walls once again collecting any remaining juices.

Tom then hovered over you and pressed sloppy kisses against your neck then holding you close to him, “you did so well for me Miene Liebe I love you so much.”

A/n: another fic outt I’ll try and keep actively posting but this is not proof read and I was a bit tipsy while writing this but I hope you guys enjoyed mwah mwah bye cuties <33

Taglist:

@itsmealaiah

@tomssexdoll

@bambiwrites

@memzyyy

@madzandmore

@jadedchar

[auroralwriting]

if you feel it, chase it

spencer reid x fem!reader (twisters! au)

storm chasing was the intent, falling in love was not.

word count: 4.0k

warnings: do not read if you don't want twisters spoilers, it's the whole fic so beware, spencer is tyler and reader is kate basically, spencer is still himself with a touch of tyler, sort of enemies/strangers to lovers, this has more romance than the movie and it has the kiss we all wanted, no use of y/n

You promised yourself long ago you’d never storm chase again.

After the losses of Elle, Jason, and Haley, it was too much to bare. You’d been the sole survivor of the tornado. Of course, your friend Derek had also survived, but he didn’t experience what you did. He could never understand.

You’d moved from Oklahoma to New York in hopes of moving on, but when Derek came to you five years later, asking you to help his team, you found yourself on a flight back home before you could even reconsider. Going back home after all this time sort of scared you, but Derek and his fifteen missed calls, twenty messages, and one voice message really seemed to convince you.

Derek’s team was for a company run by an investor named Erin Strauss. You’d only overheard her name, but she was using the data collected by Derek’s team to help predict storms before they happened. It seemed like the best idea. It could help save a lot of lives.

The team was small, but included Derek and storm chasers David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Mateo Cruz, and Jennifer Jareau. Now, it also included you. For the week, you reminded yourself.

You stood with the team as Derek introduced you. Suddenly, a loud stream of music approached quickly. You all watched as a truck and van pulled up. JJ scoffed, “Ignore them. They’re just some famous youtube storm chasers. They’re just in this for the trill of the storm.”

It was inevitable that you continued to stare. The group looked interesting, especially their leader, as you’d guessed. He was tall, curly dark hair, and was yelling something the crowd chanted back. If you feel it, chase it.

"They call themselves the BAU. Boundary Advection Units."

Deciding to ignore them, you walked out to the empty field to stare at the sky. Where would the best storm be…

“West looks good,” A voice said behind you. You turned to see the man from minutes ago, now staring at the sky. “East looks like it could be something.. maybe. High risk, high reward."

“Air’s thicker east, looks like a lot of empty space for a storms to grow.” You commented. “You’ll get a nice show that way for your fans. West is fine, but don't be surprised if they choke each other out, though."

The man stepped closer as you two looked at each other. “I’m, uh, Spencer Reid.” He introduced.

“I have a job to get to,” You scoffed, walking passed him. “East’s got the best chances, take ‘em!”

Approaching your somewhat team, you turned to Derek. “West, we have to go west.”

Rossi scrunched his eyebrows together, “But west has the best air quality for tornados. It looks like there could be several-"

"We go west. Come on, let's get in the vans." Derek said quickly.

Fireworks. They lit off fucking fireworks into the tornado. That had to be some kind of hazard, right? You were a little pissed at yourself for becoming so scared of the tornado. It was simple, an E2. It wouldn't have hurt you. You should have let Derek place the device down to get data.

Derek walked along the path with you to the hotel. He'd asked you to hang out, but you declined. It was too much, too soon. Actually, it wasn't too soon. It reminded you too much of the past. It could never happen. You weren't back. It was just one week.

As you walked up the stairs to your room, you were stopped by Spencer.

"Hey," He called. "The cells to the west will choke each other out, she said. The one in the east will put on a show."

You shrugged, "It didn't throw you off the scent."

"That's what makes Spencer so famous," A woman beside Spencer said. "Hi, I'm Penelope."

Eyebrow raised, you leaned on the railing. "You mean on YouTube?"

"On- Yeah, yeah. We have a million followers!" Penelope cheered with the rest of the crowd. "You know Spencer, but that's Tara, Luke, Alex, and Kate." They all waved and you gave a forced smile. "You made a good call earlier. On my devices, the other cell looked stronger but the cap never broke."

"Where did you all meet? Did you study meteorology in college together?" You asked.

They all laughed, "Nah, only Spencer has a degree, a whole ass PhD in meteorology." Luke laughed. "We all just like to go with the flow. Or, his flow, I guess."

"Our crew isn't quite like your crew. We don't need PhDs and fancy gadgets to do what we do." Spencer said. "I guarantee that these guys," Spencer pointed to the clearly homemade windcatchers, "have seen more tornadoes than anyone here."

"Is that right?" You asked sarcastically.

Spencer turned to you once more, but this time, it was awkwardly. "If you want, uh, maybe we can put you in one of our episodes."

You feigned a clearly fake awe, "Wow. I guess you can always trust a guy who puts his crew on a tee-shirt."

"Hey, I did that!" Penelope called as the rest of the group ooh'd at your comment about Spencer.

You began to walk up to your room as Spencer was quick to follow. "Hey, it wasn't my idea to start the channel." He frowned as you grabbed the key. "I just do it to get my knowledge out there."

"What knowledge?" You ask.

"I have an eidetic memory," Spencer awkwardly said. "That and my PhD. I, uh, know a lot about tornadoes. I want to inform people. Knowledge is power."

With a shake of your head, you open the door. "But knowledge isn't everything, right?" You asked, going inside and shutting the door behind you.

Spencer stood outside for a moment, reeling from your comment. Maybe his friends had been influencing him too much.

It was twins, a whole set of twin tornadoes. Luckily, you'd picked the right one, and Spencer didn't. Unluckily, the tornado almost flipped the truck you and Derek shared. Even worse, it damaged a nearby town.

Everything had been destroyed. Derek and the team were handing out cards to the people as you looked around, helping people find their belongings and returning them.

You knew what it felt like to have everything taken from you, just like that. It was horrible. This was the first tornado you'd been caught in since the last, and you truly thought you were going to die, too. You remembered the looks on your friends faces as the wind swept them up and away. You were truly scared.

Of course, the BAU showed up, too. They set up a merch table. It made you sick to see them selling their merchandise minutes after a life-changing event took place. It made you even angrier to know these people were being taken advantage of.

"Nice play on the left twin." Spencer said as he walked up to you.

"Yeah, well it didn't help these people any." You sighed, looking around.

Spencer watched as Strauss gave her business card to a man. "I wasn't aware that Storm Par was in the helping business." Spencer bitterly stated.

"Well, from what I see they're trying to make a difference." Slowly, you approached Spencer. His well-fitted shirt looked good on him. You took notice of his different-colored converse. It was oddly charming.

"That's one way of putting it." Spencer replied.

"What?"

Spencer paused, "Do you even know who you're chasing for?"

What did he mean? You knew of Strauss, and it was for Derek. "What are you talking about?"

"How much more do these people have to lose?" Spencer angrily asked, walking closer to you. "Is this what you call making a difference?"

"Sorry," You chuckled bitterly, "Says the guy setting up shop selling tee-shirts and mugs after the storms hit."

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, "I have a dog to find." With that, he walked away leaving you more confused than you had been.

What did he mean? Was there something he knew that you didn't? Even if you didn't know anything, you knew you didn't like Spencer getting angry with you. It didn't suit him, the anger. He looked too sweet to be so upset. Maybe you needed to do some digging and find out what he knew.

Right as you walked back to your truck, Kate ran up to you calling your name. "Hey, take some food."

"Oh, don't have any cash." You replied, looking at the girls outstretched arm.

Kate gave you a confused look, "It's free. That's why we're always selling those tee-shirts."

It hit you that maybe you were being the ass. You looked back to the stand to see people getting food and water. You felt your stomach churn. You turned back to Kate. "Oh. Well, save it in case you run low."

"Okay," Kate softly agreed, "At least take some water, stay hydrated."

"Thanks," You replied softly.

"Yeah, see ya." Kate ran back over to her group as you watched. Something wasn't right. You were misinformed. Yeah, it was definitely research time.

WE BUY LAND.

The slogan of the website made you feel like you'd betrayed the whole world as you stared at Strauss' figure standing over a pile of rubble. That's what this was for. It wasn't to help people, it was to buy their land after the tornado came through. It wasn't to stop the tornado, it was just to track it.

Derek knew that wasn't what you were about. It never used to be what he was about. He had to know, so the real question was why would he lie to you?

A knock at your motel door interrupted your thoughts. You shut your laptop and stood up to walk to the door. You opened it to see Spencer standing awkwardly with a box of pizza. His hair was messy and he gave you a crooked smile.

"Thought you might be hungry." He offered. Hesitantly, you took the pizza. You ended up shutting the door without a word and walking back over to your bed.

You opened it, suddenly feeling the urge to see if maybe he wanted some. You needed to tell him you weren't like them. Why his opinion of you mattered so highly, you didn't quite understand.

Opening the door, he was still standing there. "You find that dog?"

"Of course," Spencer nodded. "I wouldn't have left until I did. How you doing after all that?"

You tsked, "It doesn't matter. It's those people who matter."

"Well, you've seen the worst of this place." Spencer hesitated. "I thought that, uh, maybe it would be nice to show you something good. That's if you want to go, of course. It's late and tornado chasing can make you tired-"

"I'll go." You nodded, cutting him off. "Let me get my shoes."

Spencer ended up taking you to a rodeo. You sat in the stands watching. "This isn't, uh, really my speed to be honest." He admitted, awkwardly smiling at you.

"What is your speed then?" You asked, now interested in getting to know him better.

"I like museums. Books, uh, research. That's what I wanted to do. But my mom got sick, so I came back here to help her. Got into chasing." Spencer answered. "I still want to do research. Maybe at a college, somewhere. And I can still chase."

You nodded, "You'd like it. It seems up your alley. Use those smarts to inform the people about tornados and shit."

Spencer chuckled, "Yeah, and shit." After a moment, he asked "Is this your speed?"

"I grew up out here, this isn't my first rodeo." You joked. Spencer chuckled too. It warmed you to know you two had connected.

"Look at that, we're learning things about each other." Spencer commented.

"I didn't know she was buying land," You admitted to him. "I looked it up. Derek just asked me to help his team, we've been friends for years so I just said yes."

Spencer nodded. He looked compassionate. "You didn't strike me as the type to do something like that."

"I'm not," You agreed.

All of a sudden, the wind picked up strongly. It made you shiver. Wait, the weather man didn't predict strong winds. Your heart stopped as you turned to Spencer, who was already looking at you with the same look you adorned. "Were you tracking cells out this way?" Spencer didn't reply, he just slowly turned to the sky. You did the same, staring up. "Air feels heavy, this isn't good."

The same alarm blared from the stands. It was your phones. You opened it to see the bold letters, Tornado Warning. The sirens began to echo throughout the vast space and your heart rate increased.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I've just received word a tornado has touched down near the area! Please evacuate this arena right now!"

Spencer quickly grabbed your hand to help lead you out through the crowd of people. "Come on," He muttered your name a few times. "Hold on, come on." As the crowed began to run, so did you both. A woman fell in front of you and you both helped her up quickly. "Hurry, come on!" Spencer said with more urgency.

It was a disaster. People were scrambling, cars were hitting each other. Spencer held your hand tightly and pulled you closer to him. The lightning lit up the sky, and you could see the tornado.

"Spencer, we have no time!" You yelled.

Right as you went to cross the street, cars almost hit you. Spencer jumped out in front of them, yelling for them to stop as the two of you ran across. You ran into some ranky motel where the front counter worker was arguing with some customers. You'd managed to grab their attention and run outside. After a small scan, you realized there was really nowhere safe to go.

You had to think outside the box, where would be the safest?

Once your eyes fell on the pool, you knew. "The pool! Come on!" You yelled as everyone ran.

The three from the motel ended up running to car. You couldn't stop them. So, you focused on the mom and child you came across, helping them down. Spencer was the last, and right as he made it down, a large chunk of metal hit the ladder and you yanked his arm, pulling him close to you. Quickly, you ran to the end of the pool and held onto the metal pipes as the tornado finally made its way to you.

Please, don't let me die. Not here, not now.

Spencer held on above you, shielding you with his own body.

The moment it was over, you made your way up the ladder to see that everything was utterly destroyed. The Storm Par van you recognized as Derek's drove up. A moment later, he was sprinting out of the car and to you.

"God," He muttered your name as he pulled you into a tight hug. "I thought I lost you."

"Derek," You pulled back. "Why didn't you tell me about Strauss?" You looked over his shoulder to see her speaking with a couple, probably the owners of the land. "She's profiting off their loss."

Derek furrowed his brows, "The way I see it, she's helping them restart."

"By taking all they have left?" You questioned. "That's not helping."

"Yeah?" Derek challenged, anger taking over his features. "How would you know what losing everything you have is?" The moment the words left his mouth, he froze. "I didn't.. I didn't mean--"

You shook your head, "No, Derek. I understand perfectly fine." Slowly, you began to back away. You took the keys from his hand quickly and ran to the van, Derek yelling behind you.

Without a second thought, you started the vehicle and began to drive away. You could still hear Derek yelling apologizes, but what caught your eye was Spencer watching you drive away with a look on his face you couldn't quite understand.

Back at home, your mother welcomed you with open arms. She even left your science experiments in the barn, exactly how you left it all five years ago. It was comforting to be back at home, but at the same time it brought back those painful memories you tried so hard to bury deep, deep down.

The next morning, your mom came to let you know a scrawny, handsome man was here to see you. You simply sighed, telling her to let him come to you.

You stared at your tornado machine from middle school, remembering how happy you were when you'd won first place. Footsteps echoed behind you, and you knew it was Spencer.

"A tornado machine," He stepped close, leaning over to observe it. "The hydraulics on this thing are amazing. Plus, the art is really good too."

"It was my middle school science fair project," You hummed, watching as he carefully picked up one of the small houses, setting it back up.

Spencer turned back around with a geeky smile, "Did you win?"

"What do you think?" You replied with a small smile matching his.

"It's definitely no volcano," Spencer joked as he walked back over to you. "It was Penelope who recognized your name from the news a few years back. I'm sorry about your friends." Spencer said as he eyes a photo that was tacked to the barn's walls. It was one with you, Derek, and your friends. He looked back to you with a look you hadn't seen him give you before. If you would've thought about it, you would've known it was adoration.

You shrugged, shoving your hands in your pockets. "It was my fault. There's nothing to be sorry for."

"It wasn't your fault," Spencer shook his head, walking closer to you.

"It wasn't supposed to be an E5. It was supposed to be smaller, easier to manipulate and be around. I convinced them all to do it." You argued.

Spencer took one of your notebooks and began looking through it, "You theorized you could stop a tornado with polymers that would suck up the moisture." Spencer said as he flipped through the pages.

"It didn't work." You casually replied.

"Well, maybe it could." Spencer looked up, "Maybe you just need a new model. This has a genuine chance of working if you just--"

You held out a hand, closing your eyes as you sucked in a breath. "Spencer, no. That's in the past. I can't-- I just can't."

"You should try," Spencer encouraged. "Imagine the difference you could make with this."

Spencer's words struck a chord with you. That had been your goal, and it was his, too. Even so, it was too risky. It was too painful after what had happened. There was no way you could do it again, let alone rope in Spencer to help you. "I just can't." You finally said after a moment. "It won't." After another moment, you swallowed the lump in your throat. "Stay for dinner, and stay the night. You shouldn't be driving so late during tornado season by yourself."

"I don't want to intrude--"

"Please?"

Spencer looked to you, his eyes wider than normal at your plead. "Okay," He nodded. "Yeah, I'll stay."

You couldn't let anything happen to Spencer, too, you decided.

El Reno was about to be hit with the biggest fucking tornado you'd ever seen. Not only did it just hit a power plant and set on fire, but it was headed to small town with no warnings.

Spencer and you sped to the town, Luke's RV trailing right behind you. The second you got there, it was about finding shelter for people. His team and you all directed people to the storm shelters, but there was just so many people.

"Hey, the shelters are all full." Luke ran up to inform you and Spencer. "We gotta direct them to the theater."

"That won't be any better than standing outside," You shook your head. "There has to be another way."

Luke called Penelope over who typed into her phone at rapid speed, "There's nowhere else without windows." Penelope informed. "Theater is the best place we can take them."

You looked to Spencer, nervously biting your lip. He nodded at you as you took a deep breath, "Okay, let's move them fast. Keep them in the middle, hold onto seats when the walls cave."

The theater became so full, it felt like you were moving through a mosh crowd. This wasn't safe, with the number of people and size of tornado, it was bound to kill everyone. You ran to one side of the building, checking to see if there was shelter.

To your surprise, Derek met up with you and Spencer. "Other side has nothing." Derek said quickly. You knew he'd choose the right way.

"Okay, we gotta get these people in safer positions." Spencer said quickly. As the two ran off, you couldn't help but stare at the tornado.

Maybe Spencer was right. Maybe you could make a difference. After all, this tornado was bound to kill you all. Might as well die trying, right? You took a look at his truck that still had the barrels of your concoction loaded on the back. Quickly, you ran to it, trying your best to not get swept up by the wind. The second you got inside, you knew there was no going back from this.

Spencer began to look for you, asking Derek if he'd seen you. When he saw his truck out in the field, driving right for the tornado, his heart nearly stopped beating right then and there. He yelled your name, desperately trying to get to you. Derek and Luke had to hold him back to keep him inside and safe.

He didn't even realize until that moment how infatuated he'd become with you. You were his dream girl, the one he'd been chasing. And now, you were going to be gone.

You, on the other hand, tried your best not to think about Spencer. It was hard enough leaving him. You felt a connection with him you didn't quite understand, but now was not the time to decode it.

Time felt like it passed by so quickly. The next thing you knew, you were clawing your way outside of the flipped truck. If you were alive, that was a good thing, right? Unless you were dead and you were about to see tornado Jesus right in front of your eyes.

The sunlight hurt, you definitely had some sort of head injury. You reached your hand outside and felt someone grab it. They began to pull you out, another hand grabbing your other arm once your torso was out of the truck.

"Oh my god," You heard Spencer's lovely voice mumble as you finally were freed.

"Is one of you tornado Jesus?" You muttered, blinking back the pain.

A laugh came from Alex, "I thought you were a goner for sure,"

"You did it," Spencer said as he knelt down next to you. "It worked. You fucking did it." His words echoed in your mind as he pulled you into a hug. You didn't even realize you were already hugging back by the time you thought you should. Quickly, you grabbed Spencer's face and pulled him into a kiss.

A howl came from Luke as Spencer pulled back with his gorgeous wide eyes. "We did it."

At your words, Spencer smiled and, this time, pulled you into a kiss. "Okay, back off, let me see my best friend after she almost died." You chucked at Derek's words as he came to hug you, nearly pushing Spencer away. "Never do that again."

"Can't promise that," You chuckled, staring at Spencer over Derek's shoulder as his cheeks warmed at your stare. "Because I think we may just have ourselves a new storm chasing crew." As the group whooped at the victory, you pulled back from Derek and turned to Spencer. "If you feel it..."

"Chase it." Spencer smiled back as he gently set a hand on your face, causing you to smile even wider at your storm-chasing boy.

[lostinforestbound]

Oh boy howdy I've been thinking about the wizard a lot so here we go! I'm aware this is out of nowhere but I got inspired after reading some of his dialogue in-game!

My General Rolan Headcanons

Touched-Starved. If you searched up the word touch-starved and look at the photos, it would be this man's face. He hasn't experienced a kind touch outside from his siblings in a very long time.

Rolan is a lip biter! When anxious or frustrated, he bites and chews at his own lips, sometimes to the point of bleeding. He never realizes it until he tastes blood on his tongue.

When Rolan isn't biting his lips, he's for sure biting his nails. It's mostly chewing, but if he's under a lot of stress, he'll bite them off.

He has chronic nightmares, specifically about Cal and Lia's his mother. It stems purely from his survival's guilt after she passed away, and he was left to take care of Cal and Lia by himself. The nightmares had a period of getting significantly worse during and after Lorroakan's abuse.

Speaking of their mother; they have miniature portraits of her. Cal gave him one a very long time ago, but he hasn't been able to look at it after her death. In his dreams, he never sees her face, but he sees her eyes. (I touched on what the nightmares would look like in my own fic)

His tiefling traits are very sensitive. His horns, upper tail, ears, everything. He allows no one to touch them at all (except a few trusted people, which includes Tav if they are together and his siblings)

To those who enjoy the headcannon of Tieflings purring: I would say Rolan's purr is pretty high in register, mostly noise than vibration. It's high in his throat rather than in his chest.

Tieflings run hot, but I would say Rolan runs a little colder than most tieflings. It's why he hates the cold so much, especially when it snows. He has to bundle up and it's incredibly irritating. Not to mention the cold already brings bad memories of he and his siblings struggles during the winter months.

He absolutely has a whole morning routine that he never changes after he gets settled in the tower. It's his one chance to pamper himself and feel good for a little bit. He'll clean his face, putting a form of moisturizer on and letting it sit as he brushes out his hair. He already has his outfit for the day set on the bed and waiting for when he gets out.

I definitely think Rolan developed some depression and/or a panic disorder after, well, everything he's been through (Or he's already had it and it got so much worse). At first he tries to get through it by himself, but unsurprisingly, it made it worse. After some stubbornness, he lets himself be helped by either Cal, Lia, or his partner.

The king of overworking. He'll wear himself down to the bone before he accepts going to bed and relaxing. He can't accept rest, not until he's done with this one last thing-

In general, Rolan loves fiercely. He loves Cal and Lia to death, and he would do anything for them. Gods forbid someone hurts them, the hells would rain fire that day. This goes the same for whoever his lucky partner is.

(If you have your own headcanons, please please please share them! I would love to hear them!)

[violetasteracademic]

Rambling thoughts post. Won't delete.

I learned a long time ago to stop commenting on the state of the ship war/ SJM fandom as a whole and asking people to be kinder, and anyone who has followed me for a while (which sounds silly to say since I've only been here since March) has likely witnessed my slow disillusionment of the SJM fandom space. As my therapist said, if you keep trying to clean up debris in someone's house who refuses to fix their roof, you'll drain yourself for nothing. (That was about my ex husband but hey I think it applies here.) I've also realized that in the long run, individual creators don't matter, really. There are too many creators in this space who burn out and disappear and even if it upsets or disappoints people in the moment, there is always someone to replace them. I'm very replaceable. My thoughts really don't matter. But here they are anyway.

The SJM tumblr space is extremely hostile and negative. But it isn't all hostile and negative, and the more I filter out the shipwar content and anti content (seriously, I have filters on anti elriel, anti gwynriel, anti elucien, and shipwar buzzwords like delusional, reading comprehension, touch grass, ECT and thank you to my dear friend @yourstarsmyscars for showing me how much more the filters can do than I realized!) the more free I am to see how many kind and wonderful creators there are on here making cute art and amazing fanfics and nourishing a positive fandom ecosystem.

Again, I don't matter in the long run. I'm not sure how many people even still follow me really since I've stopped engaging in the shipwars beyond art, fics, and kind posts. But I do want to let anyone out there who, like me, has had their tolerance for the ship wars plummet to the core of the earth, break through the crust in the middle of the Pacific ocean, and then drift into space, know that there IS kindness in this fandom beyond the noise. There are people doing great work on all sides, who are welcoming to all, and just trying to create something people will enjoy.

I can't say I'll be here forever, or even much longer. But I feel moved to signal boost the positivity. I also know that, although I do believe I tried very hard to be positive and not insulting the majority of the time, I had days that I let the negativity get to me and I was snarkier than I wish I would have been. I'm truly sorry if I ever made a post that even remotely hurt anyone's feelings or added to the negativity. I'd go back and delete them, but frankly they are my most popular posts and still get reblogged so it feels sort of pointless since reblogs don't get deleted.

Although I am an Elriel in my heart of hearts, I want to continue to be a welcoming space for all. If that means my followers get cut in half or only a few people interact with my posts, that's okay with me. I can't try to patch the roof of the fandom, but I can keep my own space toasty and warm for anyone looking for reprieve, regardless of who you ship. I've stated multiple times here that I'm the only Elriel in my IRL friendships, and I love my friends dearly. I tried to speak to Tumblr as a whole the way I'd speak to them, and I didn't always do that. But the world is too abysmal and scary and a lot of SJM fans come online and struggle to find a space that isn't extremely hostile and negative.

Here's to all the goofy little spooks making art, fics, texts, and transcending the shipwars and just trying to connect over the things we love.

In the words of our Lord and Savior Taylor Swift, I want to be defined by the things I love, not the things I hate.

Also still committed to writing a banger Elain Lucien and Azriel throuple once I get through my laundry list of current fics. Maybe a quadruple with Gwyn. Maybe I'll just write a giant orgy, actually.