#but i’m so tired of only having her as a friend when we can only hang out every couple months

[dannydvo]

I was just told by a blogger to stop reblogging, so I’m a little rusty and weary. I have an old story idea of mine that I will use for inspiration:

There was a little girl, with sun-bleached dirty blonde hair. Her true friends and family fondly referred her as the tomboy of the family. She enjoyed catching and releasing bugs. She felt sad when bugs died. Eventually, daddy long legs and such learned she was safe to be around.

Through time and repeated strife from strange adults and mean children, she became more shy. Less outgoing. She dubbed herself an introvert as a middle schooler, but the fun word to use at the time was “emo”. Now reader, you can only guess what year that was.

This poor little girl was moved away from everyone she loved to a place she had only visited once: the swampland of Florida. Poor child for being forced to live in such an *unwelcoming* region of the Americas.

You can only imagine the bullying that took place in schools. The horror. Children fist fighting each other when home was so peaceful. She was then taught about pedophilia because men kept touching her hair without asking. The bravery and audacity of those men, to do those things in front of a Midwest mother and an Italian Floridian father. Those men were also very very dumb for bothering such successful parents.

However, those parents, through their massive veil of protection began:

1. not allowing her to sleep over with certain friends with little to no explanation.

2. policing her in a way she had never seen before. Don’t they trust her?

3. not letting her go outside alone anymore.

As time passed, she grew paler from lack of sunlight. She became depressed and didn’t know why we had to be so afraid. Then what happened, you might ask? The afraid little girl found social media. She found a bigger evil in something she felt so safe in.

Now she walks around looking over her shoulders, poor girl. Now she is a 27-year-old man. She is proud that no one was able to kill her.

Throughout those years, dear reader, times in her home country have changed. This poor little girl who died was just reborn through the flames.

Call me the Angel of Death, call me anything. Do not let your fear and religious superstition traumatize the already traumatized youth, dear reader. Be kind, or you may just create yet another horror series when the world is always so so tired of horror tropes. Continue on our path, our media will be horror, obscure, free… and beautiful.

You are the child of Death. Everyone always assumes that you were adopted, but you are in fact Death's biological child, although they are unwilling to tell how exactly this happened.

[dumblilb]

I don’t wanna talk

Vi x Bartender!Reader

(Synopsis: Vi’s been having a hard time recently. You decide to give her a little relief.)

(Warnings: !SMUT MDNI!, lesbian sex, Sub!Vi, oral (both!r), thigh riding (vi!r), strap (vi!r), begging, mentions of alcohol, profanity, crying from overstim, a little angst but not really, kinda fluff)

(Requested: Yes)

(Word count: 2,823)

* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚★。*

As her newly dark hair falls over her eyes all she could think about was how angry she was. It hadn’t even quite hit her yet why. Maybe it was her bruised knuckles, and the way they made her hands look so ruff against your skin. Or the fact that the lights were blinding her eyes. But as she looked up at you over the bar counter, she knew she had one thing to be surely mad at. You were gonna probably gonna send her home.

She held your forearm with a small bit of pressure. Putting the drink you were making for your final customer of the night on pause.

“Please. I need a drink. Just one.” Vi pleads. She looks tired. Her shoulders are slightly slouched and her eyes look sullen. You can’t help but sigh. This is the third night this week you’ve denied her service. Normally you can’t help but place down another beer for a drunkerd. A few extra dollars in your pocket from some rando isn’t the worst thing in the world. But when it’s your friend that’s when it gets complicated.

“Vi, I’m off in a minute. Just let me finish making this and you can come with me back to mine. Okay?” You smile softly. Her grip on your arm loosens and she looks at you for a second, debating her answer. Did she really want you to take her home and put her to bed. Her eyes flicker to the softness in your eyes. And the way your chest moved delicately up and down while you breathed. Actually that doesn’t sound like a bad idea right now. Maybe she wasn’t that upset after all.

“Fine. Just-“ She breathes out heavy, hanging her head. “Don’t make me wait too long.” She lets up on your arm and walks over to the exit waiting for you. You can’t help but stare at her as you clean up and clock out. Her jacket is slung over her shoulder. The fabric molding to the sweat covered muscles of her back. Like an unruly child she scrapes her large leather boots across the floor back n forth. Almost in protest of you testing her level of patience.

You walk over to her and she gives you a slight tinge of a smile as she wraps her arm around your shoulders.

“You’re getting sweat on me.” You grimace. She just places a peck on your cheek with a stuck up grin.

“You love it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to give you that impression.” You roll your eyes. But the undeniable smile covering your face gives her the courage she needs for the night.

The walk home was quick since you live not too far. Which vi was pleased about. The second you unlocked the door she pulled you into your own home, leading you to your room.

“What the hell are you doing.” You can’t help but laugh.

“Nothing I just wanna talk.” She says sitting down on your bed. Discarding her boots and jacket to the floor.

“Talk?” You question. You’re used to her flirting. She’s done it her whole life. She’s never really not been a charmer. But ever since she started doing those pit fights and coming to find you at the bar afterwards, it’s been a little intense. She started coming as a way to see you. She’d buy a drink. Chat you up. Get turned down. And she’d buy another. You could tell she was just sad and lonely. So you didn’t really give the idea of it the time of day. But as the drinking became more intense you got worried. She only seemed to become more upset the more times you sent her on her way. Beer in hand. You’d started to think you definitely fucked up. And she wasn’t joking around.

“Can’t remember the last time we talked about anything other than how bad you want me.” You tease, trying to keep the energy light. Maybe just this once. You’d try and see how this goes.

“You know I’ve had a really shitty day. Lost my match. And the only thing that’s made me feel better is the sight of you. You seem to have that effect on me recently.” She states as you sit down next to her. She leans to rest her head down softly on your shoulder. You don’t quite know how to react to what she’s just said. Her breath is hitting your skin sending a shiver down your back. You go to rest your hand to her cheek bringing her to face you, but she pulls back almost like a flinch. You ease her in closer.

“I don’t think I wanna talk right now.” You whisper, leaning in slightly to close the gap. She almost gasps at the contact but finds composure and melts into the kiss. All she could think about for weeks was how you would feel against her. If your lips were soft or if your eyelashes would flutter against her cheeks. But nothing could have prepared her for how heavenly you would feel.

The softness of your lips had her entranced as she pulled you in for more. Leaning into you making you fall back on your arms, deeper into your bed. She parts for a second, taking in your face. The way your eyes dart from hers to her lips. The way they your lips stay open slightly. Like they’re inviting her back in. You take the chance and kiss her again. Guiding her body up into a sitting position. Practically straddling your hips. You place a hand to her chest, feeling up to her neck. You could feel her heart racing under your touch. Deep breaths wracked her body as you fiddled with the wraps around her torso.

“Can I?” You question and she continues to kiss you, moving down your neck.

“Please.” She exhales and you start removing them. Much too slow for her taste. She’s antsy, nipping at your skin as you work. You finally get it off and take a second to admire her. She beautiful. Her skin is pale but it glimmers with sweat as she pants. You run your fingers over her chest, caressing her softly making her look at you nervously. What if you didn’t like them. What if-

“God you’re fucking perfect.” You exclaim quietly, placing soft kisses upon them. Her head falls back as you enclose on of them in your mouth. Putting your tongue to work, rolling over her nipple gently with your other hand.

Her hand grips your thigh tightly as a way to cope with the new sensation. She runs her other over your head till you pull back. She looks at you slightly confused till you begin removing your top, making her eyes go wide. The black bra still covering your chest doesn’t keep her from gawking. She slides off your lap for a second, hastily removing her own black jeans leaving her in just a pair of boxers in front of you. Her happy trail on display. Scooting forward you grab her hand placing it on your own pants. Giving her permission to remove them.

She bends down in front of you, sliding them over your hips and down your legs. Running her fingers up your thighs she starts to spread them apart, but you urge her back onto your lap.

“You said you had a bad day? Let me make you feel good.” You breathe into her ear, teasing her boxers off with your fingertips. Which she is now eagerly ripping off. Placing her, now noticeably wet, core down on one of your thighs. You grip her hips with a bit of force. Guiding them in a back in forth motion. She lets out a soft grunt as she slowly picks up the pace. Resting her head in the crook of your neck, she sloppily places small pecks to your collar bone. Her hands gripping your waist to keep steady.

Each motion she made caused a moan to leave her lips. They started quiet but as her legs became shaky you’d remind her how good she was doing. You rock your leg up into her, making the whining become louder. Her voice barely sounding legible between gasps, as she pleads with you.

“Fuck! I- I can’t…” She lets out, whipping her head back. You just smile at her softly. You roll over onto the bed, bringing her under you. Her hair falling back out of her face, leaving you with her wide eyed expression. She’s confused as to why you stopped her from finishing, till you get down on your knees beside the bed. Pulling her legs towards you and resting them on your shoulders. Her toned thighs clenched around you in anticipation as you leave little kisses to the area.

She’s starts to get needy, grinding her hips upward towards your lips when you grip her tightly. Looking up at her flushed face. Any makeup she was wearing earlier was fully smudged off and beads of sweat dripped down her abs as her deep breaths made each one flex just a little. It makes your brain spin a little as she looks at you with softness. Eyes pleading with you. Practically begging for relief.

“Please-“ She starts to say when you run your tongue through her folds. Her whole body melts into the bed. Each dip into her making her squirm as you work your way to her clit. Tonguing it with swift motion. Loud grunts leave her lips as she grips your head trying to push you in closer. She wants more. Which is fine. You have much more to give.

Coming up for air you slightly knock her hand out of the way. You begin holding her hips up with nothing but your own strength. Her legs fully over your shoulders. She tries to help by holding herself up with her forearms. But as you begin sucking on the sensitive area she gives up. An echoing moan leaves her as her core starts to tense up. Gripping your sheets tightly, she holds her eyes closed. Almost embarrassed to face you like this. Weak and to your will.

Her hips start to twitch. And before you could even prepare she’s a mess under you. Her release covering your mouth. She lays there panting for a minute while you gently set her down. Leaving wet kisses up her body, till you’re lying against her. Bringing her lips you yours, letting her taste herself. She holds you tight as if scared you would leave. Bitting slightly at your lips. Just enough to claim her stake. Her hand falls to your underwear line and she starts to inch closer to your core. You couldn’t help but peek to see the way her tattoos flowed with her muscles at each movement.

Moving your hips forward you allow her to start softly running her fingers through your folds. A small murmur of pleasure creeps out making her smile into the kiss. Applying light pressure she moves in circular motions, moving her kisses down your neck. Nipping at it slightly. The louder you get the faster she goes. The restriction of your panties upsets her so she takes a pause to slide them off and gets right back to it.

You place your hand on hers and guide it down to your entrance. She understands quickly and moves to be more on top of you. Holding one of your thighs down slightly with her leg. Holding herself up with one of her arms, her other glides its first finger into your core gently. She hesitates for a moment before you impatiently buck your hips, letting her know it’s okay to start moving.

She starts gingerly. Nervous almost. But as you whisper words of encouragement under your breath she starts to pick up the pace. Each thrust making you squirm under her. As her speed increases you bring one of your own hands down to massage your clit. The feeling of another finger entering makes a warmth start building in your stomach. Vi grunts as she continues. Her eyes not leaving you. The way your chest moves at her motions could make her drool. She starts to curl her fingers upward inside you and your pace becomes faster. But it’s sloppy, and a lack of composure becomes apparent.

“Fuck! Vi don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.” You say stern, even in your current state. Your legs start to shake under her and with a last pump the feeling in your stomach releases making your whole body tense against her. She slowly starts to remove her fingers, placing them in her mouth to lick them clean. Under heavy lids you look at her with a smirk. She liked the way you tasted. You could see it on her face. She was pussy drunk.

Sitting up you move to reach under the bed. Grabbing what you need from the box you kept there. She looks at you curious till you bring it into her view. The hot pink strap, now sitting on your lap, makes her eyes go wide.

“Do you want me too..” She starts but as you get up and start to tighten it around your hips, she understands. “Oh!”

“Is this okay?” You check walking towards her position at the edge of the bed. She nods her head rapidly making you chuckle a bit. Pink dusting over her cheeks as you stand between her legs. Cupping her face you rub your thumb across her tattoo, taking in the way she looks. Even in the dark her powder blue eyes sparkle. Her hair can’t help fall slightly in the way of her view. Which in this moment is not something she’s fond of. She wants to see you.

Leaning down, you delicately leave a kiss to her forehead. Grabbing her hand in the process. You pull her up to stand in front of you.

“Turn around.” You muse and she looks at you a little confused, following instructions anyways. The sight of her tattoo covering her back makes you take a deep breath. God she’s so fucking hot. You rub your hands down her back, tracing each line of ink. She shivers slightly under your touch reminding you of what you were doing in the first place. Bending her over, she places her knees and hands down onto the bed and braces herself. Climbing up to bring your pelvis to her ass, you position yourself.

Caressing her hips softly you question “ready?” And you see her nod.

Pushing the tip of the strap in slowly you let her get accustomed to the feeling. A audible moan leaves her and you place a kiss to her back. Finding yourself a rhythm you begin thrusting into her. Slow at first, not to scare her. But then she started begging for it.

“Please! Faster.” She groaned, spreading her legs a bit wider. Which allowed for you to go deeper. Your thighs hitting her ass making as slapping noise echo in the room. But it was hard to hear over the loud whines that escapes her mouth. She can’t help but curse your name as you apply some pressure to her back, making her arch deeper. Holding her hips tightly to secure the motion. Her arms give out and her torso becomes flesh with the sheets. Arms up above her head. She turns slightly back to look at you. Reaching under you start to rub her off while continuing to slam into her.

“Holy shit!” She exclaims trying to hide her face behind her arm, but you stop her.

“Pretty girl, I need you to look at me.” You smile and she moves her arm. Small tears gather in her eyes from the overstimulation on her pussy. You get concerned for a second but when her legs start to twitch a little she practically begs for you to go harder. It only takes a few more pumps before her legs give out and you can feel warmth covering your hand. Easing out of her, you pull out and remove the strap from your hips.

She lays there, body sprawled out across your bed. Her eyes are closed but she has a grin adorning her face. A slight flush on her skin apparent. Quickly placing a kiss to her shoulder, you get up to grab a damp towel. Coming back to sit next to her.

“Come here.” You bring her closer to begin wiping her down. Cleaning her off. She looks up at you with a grin. She puts a hand to your cheek, pulling your lips down to hers. The kiss is gentle and needy. She just wants to feel you. Resting her forehead to yours she sighs.

“You okay?” You question, caressing her arm softly.

“My day just got a whole lot better.”

[moosesarecute]

Day 3: Belonging

@azrielappreciationweek

Masterlist

Azriel loved his family.

He loved his mother, but rarely saw her. He refused to bring her any danger when he knew she couldn’t protect herself.

He loved his brothers. Even though he has had different arguments with both of them lately, he loved them.

He loved Amren, Mor, Feyre, Elain and Nesta.

His entire family gave him joy.

But he was missing someone. Someone that was just his. His mother had never been able to raise him. Rhys and Cass were friends before he came along. Rhys’ mother was exactly that, Rhys’. Mor chose Cass and all the Archeron sisters had mates that wasn’t him.

He was always the second choice.

He knew they loved him back and did their best to include him, but they would never prioritize him over their mates. And he understood that, but it wasn’t enough.

He needed to be the first choice.

That’s why he loved you more than anything and also why he chose to keep you a secret.

He knew his family would never take you away from him, but he hated the thought of even sharing the amazing relationship the two of you had with others.

You had now been dating for two years. And it was the two most amazing years of his life.

If he had a bad day, you were there to hold him. If he had a good day, you were there to be happy with him. And if he had a normal day, you were there to make it perfect.

He had lost count of the days he had come home to a freshly cooked dinner and your smiling face.

You loved to cook in your free time and even though Azriel often urged you to let him help you in the kitchen, the answer was always the same: “I love to cook, Az. It’s my way of unwinding.”

So he let you have the cooking and he did the dishes. It worked for the two of you.

“Are you even listening?” Rhysand asked him.

Mission, Illyria, two weeks, female training

Thank the mother for his shadows.

“You want me to spend two weeks in Illyria making sure the females are training,” he answered with a neutral tone. “I listen, but isn’t this more of Cassian’s expertise?”

He did not want to leave you for two weeks. In only one week was your two years anniversary and he had planned something special.

“Cassian is going on the same mission, but he’s taking half the camps and you’re taking the other half,” Rhys explained. “Spending a month every time we have to make sure the females are training isn’t going to work, so we are trying this solution.”

He only nodded.

Even though he hated to miss your anniversary, he just couldn’t let Rhys know about you just yet.

“Thank you, Az,” Rhys answered. “Can you start tomorrow?”

It had been two weeks without Azriel. A week since your anniversary. And even though you knew why he wanted to keep you a secret, you still hated the fact that you were alone on your anniversary.

So to say you were excited for him to return was an understatement.

You were almost blooming in happiness. You had made his favorite dinner and dessert and made sure the food was ready for nine o’clock. He said he would be back at nine o’clock.

But then it turned nine fifteen and then half past nine and then ten and then eleven.

You knew Azriel well enough to know that he would have let you know if he knew he would be late.

But you had gotten no message.

So you started pacing.

And cleaning.

You ate without him. You read your book. You knitted. And you took a bath.

And finally, at three o’clock in the morning, you heard the door to your house close.

You basically ran towards the front door and were immediately met by a wall of shadows.

They embraced you, looked over your entire body for injuries and pulled you towards their master.

“Az?” You asked carefully.

“I’m sorry for coming home so late,” he answered with a tired voice.

The shadows had now pulled you so that you stood only half a meter away from Azriel.

His leathers were ripped and his head was heavy.

“What happened?” You asked him with a gasp.

Before he could answer you had already slipped on your shoes and started dragging him out the door.

“Y/N,” he said and tried to hold you back. “I’m fine.”

You stopped in your tracks.

“Az,” you started with a sigh. “Love, you can’t even stop me, a female half your size, from dragging you to the clinic. I think we both know you’re not fine.”

He let you win the argument and went along to the clinic. He walked worriedly slow and every now and then he let out a painful whimper. He even had difficulties holding his wings up from the ground.

You had just gotten to the clinic and sat down in the examination room, when you felt his hand go limp and looked up to see his eyes closed.

“Az?” You asked and shook him carefully. He gave no reaction.

You didn’t even think before you ran out of the room and found the closest healer.

Three healers rushed into his room and started working. They healed many small wounds and a bigger one on his back, before they bandaged some of the deeper ones.

You couldn’t look away from his face. He looked so peaceful, it felt so wrong knowing he was harmed.

“He’ll be okay,” one of the healers said to you. “You’re Y/N, right?”

You looked up at the healer from the chair you sat in. She knew about you? You didn’t think Azriel had told anyone about you.

“He usually asks for you right after waking up,” she told you as an answer to your confusion. “I’ll have to contact the High Lord. He’ll want to know his shadowsinger is safe.”

You nodded at the healer and spent as long time as possible beside Azriel, holding his hand and cuddling his hair, before you went back home, alone.

If he needed you to be a secret, you would be.

Azriel woke with a deep breath.

“Y/N?” He asked aloud with a groggy voice.

“Az?”

He couldn’t hold back the disappointment in hearing his brother’s voice and not yours.

He opened his eyes and was met with both of his brothers nervous stares.

Rhys handed him a glas of water and Cassian helped him sit up, even though he didn’t need help.

“You scared us there, Az,” Rhys said. “You had poison in your blood.”

Even though he heard Rhys’ words, he simply couldn’t understand what he was talking about.

The only thing he remembered was shadow walking home to you. He remembered making sure you were okay and that you dragged him to the clinic without even a hug or kiss.

But where were you now?

Y/N?

Home, safe, worried

His shadows saved him from going mad from worry.

“Az?” Cassian’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. He looked over to his brother. “Who’s Y/N?”

Azriel struggled to not show his surprise and confusion. How did he know about you?

“You’ve been muttering that name in your sleep,” Rhys explained and Azriel understood that they already knew who you are. “We’re sorry if you haven’t felt like you could tell us.”

“Yeah,” Cassian agreed. “We haven’t been prioritizing you and we’ve hated ourselves for it. Hope you can forgive us and let us have a new chance.”

Azriel didn’t know how to respond. He felt seen and understood. It felt nice. He felt ready even though he dreaded having to explain his feelings.

“Y/N is my girlfriend,” he started to explain. “We’ve been together for two years now and I didn’t want anyone to know because-“

“We understand Az,” Rhys interrupted him. “You wanted her for yourself. You don’t need to explain unless you want to.”

Relief grew from his body.

But he knew he wouldn’t feel okay until you were in his arms.

“Can one of you maybe get Y/N and bringer her here?” He asked carefully.

“Where is she?” Cassian asked as he jumped up from his chair and got ready to leave.

You woke from a knock at your door. It had been a long and anxious night not knowing how Azriel’s doing and you hadn’t realized you fell asleep.

Another knock made you sit up in the couch.

You knew it wasn’t Azriel, he had stopped knocking ages ago.

But you had a good feeling and went to open the door anyway.

“Hello,” a large illyrian male you realized had to be Cassian said.

“Hello?” You answered confused.

“There’s an awake shadowsinger that really wants you to come visit him.”

You had to hold back a squeal when you realized Azriel had told his family about you. And you immediately got ready to go to the clinic.

Cassian walked in front of you into the room and then pulled the High Lord out so that you and Azriel could be alone. It was absurd.

“Hi,” Azriel said.

His voice made you melt a little and you rushed towards him to give him a hug and kisses.

“Don’t ever do that again,” you said as you kissed his entire face. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Azriel answered and moved to embrace you as well. “You know I’ll always come home to you, right?”

You nodded into his chest.

“I don’t like being away from you,” you whispered. “I think we belong together.”

Shadow started playing with your hair as Azriel became more and more relaxed.

“I know we do.”

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[ultralightpoe]

Sticky - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Yeah the fandom is EATING with this song and that trailer so I figured I might as well feed into my own obsessions. -Ultralight

Song Inspo - Sticky from Tyler The Creator

Word Count: 1851

Warnings: Fighting, reference to smexy times

Requests: OPEN [working on the first round now]

MAIN MASTER LIST

[Thank you for the gif @unearthlydust ]

Enjoy!

It’s the bitter laugh that no one wants to hear, that’s the moment when the realization begins setting in. The chill down his spine, locking in the fear as the cold sweat begins to form, knuckles tightening around his glass of whiskey. 

The room wasn’t cold, with the fire crackling just a few feet away, so there wasn’t really a reason for him to be shivering. But that cold embrace of fear was wrapping Declan Morarie like a blanket. He was a man coming to the realization he was about to die. 

It was Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, sat at the end of the long table she hadn’t been invited to, in a home she hadn’t been welcome in but still sat in nevertheless. In the beginning of Declans career he always wondered how people remembered her full name, but watching the women now he understood. She was completely untouchable. 

“Oh come on now,” She teases, clapping her hands together in excitement as that same bitter laugh passes her lips. “I’m excited for the show.” 

“You think this is funny?” He bites out.

“Well from my seat I think it’s pretty great. I, however, would never want to be the one getting hunted down by Bucky Barnes and his fucking wife.” She chuckles, pulling a piece of lint off her dress. 

“And how….” He has to take a breath in to compose himself, slamming the glass on the table before him. “How did they get to me?”

“You tortured her for years, your very own project��.. Well her and 20 others. Honestly it was only a matter of time before they tracked you down.” She explains, standing up and walking herself to the bartop. 

“And you didn’t happen to put my name in their ear?”

“Barnes will be my problem….. On another day.” She nods, pouring herself a shot and turning to him to cheers before downing it. “But today, he’s yours.” 

She slams the glass down until it splatters across the entire floor, her heels crunching into it as she waltzes to grab her coat. “I do apologize old friend, and I am….. Hopeful? Yes, that seems like a decent word, I’m hopeful you will succeed surviving.”

“I will.” He sneers, but even the words fall flat.

“Oh I’m sure you will.” She laughs, her words dripping with sarcasm. “Though I do hear things get a bit sticky when those two decide they want someone dead.”

- 

“Who would have thought that this… hunting down the bad guys of the world could be soooo… hmmm.” You tilt your chin up in a quiet contemplation as your husband frets over your suit. He busies himself with checking all the safety measures you both had designed for the suits when you decided they would be worn again. 

“Tiring.”

“Cathartic,” You hum back, sliding your hands down to snatch onto his own and bring them up so he can stop fretting. “You’re grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“You are.” You argue, kissing the knuckles of his metal hand before doing the same to his flesh hand. “You didn’t get much sleep and now you’re tired and grumpy. I don’t like when you do this grumpy.”

“No more with the word grumpy. You have overused it.” He huffs, leaning to kiss your forehead. 

“Fine, ill-tempered.”

“Hardly,”

“Testy.” 

“Not even close.”

“Crotchety.”

“Really? We’re going that far?”

“Hmmmm. Waspish. How about that?”

“I….. will allow it if it means we can just get this over with.” He kisses around your face, using his metal hand to tilt your face for easier access while you fight off a smile and push him back. 

“You know what to do.”

“Straight to business then.” And though he turns his back to you he keeps you close while using the tech pad to monitor the halls of the building you both were about to enter. 

“He doubled up on guards. Someone warned him.” He analyzes, shifting a bit to show you the footage. “Valentina.”

“Hmmm.” You choose not to actually respond, allowing your husband to work through his own anger and suspicion while you watch the guards to begin learning the patterns. 

“You don’t believe me.”

“I believe you.” You defend, passing the tech back. “But I don’t want you getting ahead of yourself. That is a hunt for another day.” 

“You ready?”

“Of course.” And it’s easy, the way you two fall to the plan so naturally, having worked together for years now. He lets you pass by him, his flesh hand catching a strand of your hair as you strut past, casting him one more glance before disappearing to find your entrance. 

Once you are at your mark you place the comm in, tapping it twice to make sure it works as you begin slicing the door with the silent laser. 

“Placed?” Bucky asks after a moment, meaning he had made it to his own mark. 

“You know it.” You mutter, pushing the door open in the small place you had cut before easily sliding in, your feet near silent on the ground as you watch the hall and begin trekking through. 

Moving like a shadow should never have been this easy, and yet it was, all thanks to the man you were here to kill. 

“будь в безопасности.” He mutters in your ear, his voice a soft caress in the first moment you hear steps approaching. ‘Be Safe’, his favorite thing to say since he knew you didn’t need luck. 

“être en sécurité,” You repeat his saying back to him, this time in french just to bother him since he could never speak it fluently. 

And then you finally meet the person walking closer, but before he can even prepare himself you are already sliding across the floor to kick out his legs before you swipe the overly large gun from his hip and knock him out with it, sliding on your knees to face forward with the stolen gun and raise yourself back to your feet. 

Each movement is a simple glide, one in front of the other as you trace the hall for movement. The plan was simple, meet in the middle and make your way up. You just had to shut down all the exits first. 

You started with the elevators, opening the first and shooting the controls until the light within it flickers and marking it useless and moving to the second one. When the doors slide open a guard moves to rush out, and you use his outstretched arm to heft him over your shoulder until you are throwing him to the floor and twisting until you hear a snap. 

“Sorry.” You whisper, kicking him away as you hear Bucky grunt within the comms as he finds his own issues. You mimic the movements you had used on the other elevator before rushing to the front entrance and using their own night time security gates against them. Locking anyone from leaving and keeping anyone from entering. 

And now that you were finished with that you began you started your way to meet your husband. 

It only took 15 minutes and by the time you do find him he’s leaning on the wall like nothing else mattered, tilting his metal hand under the light above him to admire the etching done for your wedding. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” You murmur, your tone seductive as you lean next to him. “What’s a place like this doing in a guy like you? …….Wait, don’t I have that backward?” 

“Keep looking at me like that and I’m sure we’ll find a lot of things backwards.”

“Oh,” You blink, staring at him. “I honestly can’t tell if that was sexual or a threat.”

“Then why can I practically hear your heart beating through your chest?”

“I never said I wouldn’t like it as either.” You huff, turning on your toes and signaling him to follow you. “You’re very beguiling.”

“Another big word. Should I be worried?”

“You got me the dictionary. Which I was slightly offended by.” You huff, twisting your body up the stairs as you see a figure in the corner of your vision, working with grace to pull him down and over the railing. “Stop flirting with me Barnes.”

“You stop flirting with me, Barnes.” He snaps back, making sure that guard stays down before using his gun and following you as back up. “Almost there.”

“Noted.” You murmur, shooting the tech pad to enter the door from the stairwell. The second the door swings open there are guards swarming you both, but it is lightwork when you both work together. 

The man that went to punch you met Bucky's metal fist before he could even make contact, the knife that almost hits Bucky’s mid section is easily lost the second you kick the wrist holding it. Like a bloody tango, every motion has a repercussion. 

“Любовь [love],” You huff, spinning to take out two men while facing Bucky. He reads your idea the second you make eye contact, allowing you to use his thigh as a stepping stool and throw one leg over his shoulder. 

He shoots the men in front of you both as he makes his way down the hall, you taking out the men coming up to flank you. 

By the time you reach the double doors holding the enemy within,  you swing off his shoulder with ease before an unknown figure rushes you both. 

You are thrown back, back meeting the floor as you slide while Bucky is thrown into the wall. 

“What the…..” He starts. 

“Fuck.” You finish, upon seeing who just hit you both. 

He was tall, with red eyes and a sneer on his face, yet another over drugged super soldier. 

Bucky is the first to regain himself, standing quickly and pushing himself into the soldier to knock the weight off and send him down. Only he pushes back, both men stuck in the hold, so you launch up. 

Your hands hit your husbands shoulders and you vault over him to lock your thighs around the neck of the soldier and twisting your body to send him flying back with you. 

Unlike you, however, he doesn’t manage to catch himself and falls on his back. Bucky is there, foot on his neck as you pull the gun and finish him off before moving to kick in the door and find Declan Morarie.

He doesn’t say anything, merely turning to the door with a bottle in hand as he staggers for balance. 

“Fuck.” 

“Fuck.” Bucky mocks, giving you a look before you both rush at him. 

-

“I think you need to go to bed.” You huff, watching your husband pull out the paperwork the second you both got home, after dropping your duffel bags by the doors. “No work.”

“I need to review her bills, she’s hiding something in plain sight-” His conspiracy theories about Valentina were interrupted by you slipping your shirt off and throwing it at him. 

“A hunt for another day then.” He amends, following you into the bedroom as quickly as he can.

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 30/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, age gap, angst, fluff

Word Count: 7782

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

A while later, Jensen stepped behind Danneel into her hotel room, feeling the weight of the evening bearing down on him. He was tired—tired of the endless back and forth, tired of the emotional tug-of-war, and tired of pretending that things were okay when they clearly weren’t. But before he could dwell too long on his weariness, he heard the familiar patter of small feet and a chorus of excited voices.

"Dad!", JJ and the twins shot toward him, their faces lighting up with excitement the moment they spotted him. Instantly, Jensen’s exhaustion melted away as his kids wrapped their arms around his legs and torso, jumping up to hug him. He knelt down, scooping them up into his arms as best as he could, grinning despite everything.

“Hey, hey!”, Jensen laughed, hugging them tightly. “I missed you guys”.

JJ was the first to pull back, looking up at him with a mischievous grin. “We missed you too, Dad! We were waiting forever!”, she exaggerated, her hands gesturing wildly, as if they’d been waiting hours longer than they actually had.

“Forever, huh?”, Jensen teased, ruffling her hair. “Well, I’m here now”.

The twins clung to him, babbling over each other about their day, their toys, and everything he had missed while he had been with Danneel. His heart swelled with love for them, the stress of the evening fading into the background. For these few moments, it was just him and his kids—no tension, no arguments, no looming decisions. Just them.

Danneel stood by the door, watching the reunion with a quiet expression. She didn’t interrupt, giving him this moment with the kids, and for once, Jensen was grateful. It wasn’t often that they had moments of peace like this, and he wasn’t about to let anything spoil it.

After a few minutes, Jensen stood up, his kids still clinging to him. “So”, he said, looking around the room, “what’s the plan for the rest of the night? What have you guys been up to?”.

JJ’s face lit up as she tugged at his arm. “We were watching a movie, but we can start over since you’re here now! Please?”.

Jensen chuckled, glancing at Danneel, who shrugged slightly, as if to say, it’s your call.

“Sure, why not?”, he said, turning back to his kids. “Let’s watch it together”.

They scrambled back toward the couch, the twins chattering excitedly as JJ grabbed the remote to restart the movie. Jensen settled onto the couch, pulling them close as they nestled against him, their energy contagious.

For a brief moment, as the movie started playing, everything felt… normal. Like they were just a family enjoying a movie, without the weight of divorce and custody hanging over them. Jensen allowed himself to relax, to be present in this moment with his kids, knowing that this was what it was all for—the long hours, the hard conversations, the compromises. It was for them, to make sure they had this stability.

Danneel sat down across from them, her expression still neutral but less sharp than earlier. She didn’t say much, just watched the movie quietly, letting the evening play out in peace.

Meanwhile, you sat with Jared and Misha at a quiet bar tucked away in a corner, the low hum of conversation around you barely registering in your mind. Dinner had finished over an hour ago, and the three of you had decided to stick around for drinks, waiting for any sign from Jensen. But as time dragged on, you couldn't help but feel the weight of his absence pressing down on you.

Jared was watching you closely, noticing your distant gaze as you stared blankly at the condensation on your glass. He leaned forward and gently shoved your drink closer to you, offering a small, encouraging smile. “You’re gonna want to finish that before it gets warm”, he teased lightly, though you could hear the concern in his voice.

Misha, sipping on his cocktail, shot Jared a glance before turning his attention to you. “You okay?”, he asked, his tone softer than usual, as if he could sense the tension building inside you.

You forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine”, you replied, though your heart wasn’t in it. The truth was, you weren’t fine. It had been hours, and there was still no word from Jensen. You knew he was with Danneel and the kids, that this was important, but the uncertainty was starting to wear on you. You tried not to let it show, not wanting to come off as clingy or unreasonable, but the waiting was harder than you’d expected.

Jared raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Look, I know this isn’t exactly how you pictured the night going”, he said, leaning back in his chair, “but you know how it is with the kids. They’re probably watching some Disney movie, and Jensen’s caught up in it”.

Misha nodded in agreement, setting his glass down. “Yeah, I mean, if he’s with the kids, that’s all the explanation you need. He probably got sucked into ‘Frozen’ or ‘Toy Story’ and lost track of time”.

You let out a soft laugh at Misha’s joke, knowing that he was probably right. “Yeah, you’re probably right”, you said, your voice a little lighter now.

Jared, sensing that you needed a distraction, leaned in closer. “Look, I know it’s hard, but trust me—Jensen’s all in with you. He’s dealing with a lot right now, but that doesn’t mean he’s forgetting about you”.

You glanced at Jared, appreciating his attempt to ease your mind, but a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little restless. “I know he is”, you replied, sighing softly. “It’s just… I hate waiting around like this, not knowing what’s going on”.

Misha offered you a reassuring smile. “It’s understandable. But you know Jensen—if something was wrong, he’d let you know. He’s probably just caught up with the kids, and that’s something we can’t fault him for”.

You nodded, knowing they were both right. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Jensen or his commitment to you—it was just the limbo that made you uneasy. You wanted to hear from him, to know that everything was okay, and that the evening hadn’t turned into some drawn-out confrontation with Danneel. But as the minutes ticked by, you tried to push those worries to the back of your mind.

“He’ll be here soon. In the meantime, let’s finish these drinks and try not to stress, yeah?”.

You smiled gratefully at Jared, feeling a little more grounded. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, guys”.

Misha grinned, lifting his glass. “To patience, then”, he said, raising a toast.

You clinked your glass with theirs, taking a sip of your drink, trying to let yourself relax. Even though Jensen hadn’t called yet, you reminded yourself that he was likely caught up with his kids, just as Jared and Misha had said. He’d be there soon.

What you didn’t know was that, at that very moment, Jensen had fallen asleep on the couch with his kids curled up beside him. He hadn’t meant to, but after the long day and the emotional exhaustion of dealing with Danneel, the warmth and comfort of having his kids close had lulled him into a deep sleep. For now, he was completely unaware of the time that had passed, unaware that you were waiting for him.

Eventually, Jared and Misha walked you back to your hotel room, both trying to lift your spirits as best they could. They had been great company all evening, but as the hours dragged on and there was still no word from Jensen, your unease had grown. You’d texted him a few times, just to let him know where you were, hoping for some sort of response—anything to indicate he hadn’t forgotten. But still, nothing.

“He’ll probably be here any minute”, Jared reassured you with a confident smile, even though the clock was ticking later than anyone had expected.

Misha nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he’s probably feeling guilty right now for not checking his phone. He’s going to show up, don’t worry”.

You smiled at them, appreciating the support, but the anxious knot in your stomach had only tightened. “I hope so. Thanks, you guys, for tonight. I know it wasn’t the plan”.

“Anytime”, Jared said, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Get some rest, and Jensen will be knocking at your door before you know it”.

Misha added with a wink, “If not, just send me after him”.

You managed a soft chuckle at that, but deep down, you were more worried than amused. You bid them both goodnight and entered your room, closing the door softly behind you. The room felt too quiet now, the air thick with uncertainty. You paced for a bit, checking your phone again—still no response. You sighed, trying to push the unease aside, but the silence on the other end felt heavy.

Meanwhile, back in Danneel’s hotel room, Jensen and the kids were still fast asleep. Jensen’s body slouched slightly on the couch, his kids curled up beside him, their small arms wrapped around him in peaceful slumber. His phone, placed precariously between his legs, had vibrated several times throughout the evening, but he hadn’t stirred. The exhaustion from the day had knocked him out cold, completely unaware of the missed messages and calls.

Danneel, however, wasn’t asleep. She lay in her bed across the room, watching the scene unfold. She had been awake for a while, her thoughts swirling. Watching Jensen sleep with the kids, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of something—jealousy, resentment, or maybe just a reminder of what they had lost. But as the phone continued to vibrate in his lap, her curiosity grew.

With a glance at Jensen to make sure he was still out cold, Danneel quietly slipped out of bed and padded over to the couch. The phone buzzed again, lighting up briefly as it vibrated against the fabric of his jeans. She leaned over, careful not to wake him or the kids, and caught a glimpse of the screen. Though the phone was locked, one thing was clear: your name kept flashing with every new notification. Three missed messages from Y/N.

Danneel’s eyes narrowed as she straightened up, her mind racing. She had never heard your name before in the context of Jensen, not in any conversation, not even as a passing mention.

Danneel’s curiosity only deepened as she stared at Jensen’s phone, your name flashing on the screen like a beacon. She had pieced together enough to know you were important to Jensen, but not knowing exactly who you were was driving her mad. The phone was locked, so there was no easy way for her to get the information she was dying to uncover—a picture, a detail, something that would help her put a face to the name.

Frustrated but unwilling to risk waking Jensen or the kids, Danneel silently slipped back to her bed, her mind racing. Who were you? How long had this been going on, and why hadn’t she known about it sooner? Jensen was a private person, but this was different. He’d hidden you well, but now that she knew your name, it felt like a key to unraveling everything.

Lying there in the dark, she couldn’t shake the urge to know more. She wanted to see what kind of woman Jensen had chosen after her, someone who had clearly been important enough to text him multiple times late into the night. What did you look like? Were you younger? Prettier? Someone more… her type?

A part of her burned with jealousy—whether it was toward Jensen for moving on or toward you for stepping into a life she once controlled, she wasn’t sure. But the feeling gnawed at her, pulling her into thoughts she hadn’t allowed herself to fully acknowledge. Was she just bitter because she couldn’t keep things together with Jensen? Or was it that seeing him with someone new made her face a reality she wasn’t ready for?

Danneel glanced back over at Jensen. It was a peaceful scene, one that reminded her of how things used to be when they were still a family, before everything had fallen apart. But now, with your name in the picture, she couldn’t help but feel like an outsider to that peace—like she had been replaced.

She knew there was no way she’d get anything out of his phone tonight, but she wasn’t done. She’d find a way to learn more about you, to see who this woman was who had apparently captured Jensen’s attention. Danneel wasn’t the kind to sit back and let things unfold without her knowing the full story.

For now, she had to be patient. She lay back down, though her mind refused to quiet. The knowledge that Jensen had someone else, that you were out there waiting for him, only added to the mess in her head. As she stared at the ceiling, she made a quiet promise to herself: she would find out more about you.

She wasn’t going to let this go.

Back in your hotel room, the silence was deafening. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at your phone, hoping for some kind of response. You had texted Jensen multiple times, your worry building with each unanswered message.

Why hadn’t Jensen responded? Even a quick message, just to let you know he was okay, would have been enough. You tried not to let your mind wander too far into negative territory, but it was hard not to wonder if something was wrong—or if there was more to the situation with Danneel than he had let on.

With a deep sigh, you set your phone on the nightstand, trying to convince yourself to get some rest. Jensen would explain everything when he could. He was with his kids, and that was important. But as you lay there, the uncertainty gnawed at you, making sleep feel like a distant possibility.

You pulled the blanket up, staring at the ceiling in the dim light, your mind racing with thoughts you wished you could quiet. You wanted to trust that everything was okay, but as the hours ticked by, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something had shifted. Something you didn’t yet understand.

It wasn’t until Arrow padded across the room, her little voice mumbling something about needing to pee, that Jensen stirred from his deep sleep. Groggily, he blinked his eyes open, the soft glow from the hotel room barely illuminating the space around him. The weight of JJ was still pressed against his side, her head resting on his arm. He glanced over and saw Danneel fast asleep in the big hotel bed, Zeppelin curled up beside her, oblivious to the world.

Jensen rubbed his face with his free hand, the fog of sleep slowly lifting. That’s when he noticed his phone, still wedged between his legs. His eyes widened as he saw the screen light up with missed messages from you.

“Fuck”, he cursed under his breath, the realization hitting him all at once.

It was 3 in the morning.

Arrow, too sleepy to notice his dad’s panic, shuffled into the bathroom, leaving Jensen alone in the quiet room with the weight of the situation crashing down on him. He felt a pang of guilt ripple through him—he hadn’t meant to fall asleep. The plan had been to check on the kids, spend a bit of time with them, and then head out to meet you. But now, hours had passed, and you’d been left waiting.

Carefully, he adjusted JJ, making sure not to wake her as he reached for his phone. The missed calls and messages stared back at him like a silent reprimand. You had texted him multiple times, probably wondering where he was and why he hadn’t responded. His heart sank as he scrolled through them:

You: Hey, just wanted to check in and see how things are going with the kids. You: We’re heading back to the hotel now. You: Is everything okay? Let me know when you get a chance. You: I’m starting to get worried. Haven’t heard from you. Please text me.

Jensen’s heart clenched at the last one. You must have been worried sick, wondering why he hadn’t responded. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself for letting things get this far. His mind raced with how he was going to explain the situation to you. You knew he’d been with the kids, but this wasn’t what he’d planned. And now, it was 3 a.m., and he wasn’t even sure if you were still awake.

He shot a quick glance toward Danneel, who was still sound asleep, and sighed. This whole night had gone sideways. Trying to move as quietly as possible, Jensen extricated himself from JJ’s sleeping form, laying her gently on the couch before grabbing his phone. He stepped out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind him to avoid waking anyone up.

Standing there in the dim light of the hallway, he tapped out a quick text to you:

Jensen: I’m so sorry. I fell asleep with the kids. Just woke up now. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging like this. I’ll explain everything, but I wanted you to know I’m okay.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if you were even awake to read the message, but he hit send anyway. It was the least

But you were already asleep, your phone lying untouched on the nightstand, its screen dark and silent. Jensen quietly gathered his things, careful not to wake the kids, who were already fast asleep again. Arrow had climbed back onto the couch beside JJ, their small bodies curled together in peaceful slumber.

Jensen cast a quick glance at Danneel, still sleeping soundly in the large hotel bed, and decided not to linger. There was nothing left to say to her tonight. He slipped out of the room, gently closing the door behind him. His mind was focused now—he needed to get to you, explain everything, and apologize for leaving you in the dark for so long.

As soon as he was outside, the cold air hit him, waking him up a little more. He quickly pulled out his phone, dialing for a taxi. The streets were quiet at this hour, with only a few cars passing by. It didn’t take long for the cab to arrive, and Jensen slipped into the back seat, giving the driver the name of your hotel.

He leaned back against the seat, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

The taxi ride felt longer than it was, the silence in the car giving Jensen too much time to think. His mind wandered, filled with guilt for how the night had unfolded. He could only hope that you’d understand once he explained the situation. He wasn’t the type to leave you hanging, and tonight had been an exception—one he hadn’t anticipated but would make sure didn’t happen again.

When the taxi pulled up outside your hotel, Jensen paid the driver quickly and hurried inside, making his way to the elevator. His steps were quick but quiet as he reached the door to your room.

Jensen stood outside the door to your hotel room, the keycard in his hand, hesitating for a moment. He let out a soft sigh, his shoulders heavy with guilt. He hadn’t meant for the night to turn out this way, and now here he was, creeping in hours later, hoping you’d understand. He swiped the card through the lock and quietly stepped inside, careful not to make any noise.

The room was dim, the soft glow from the streetlights outside casting a faint light across the bed where you lay, curled up in the blankets. You were fast asleep, your breathing soft and even. Jensen paused, watching you for a moment, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he’d let you down tonight.

There were still two hours before his alarm would go off for the second day of the convention. Quietly, Jensen moved to the corner of the room and began to undress. He peeled off his jacket and shirt, setting them on the chair by the desk. His eyes never strayed far from you, the sight of you so peaceful in sleep only deepening his guilt. He wanted to wake you, to apologize and explain, but he couldn’t bring himself to disturb you.

As he slipped out of his jeans, he moved quietly to the edge of the bed, sitting down gently beside you. For a moment, he just watched you, his heart aching. He reached out, carefully brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

As you felt his touch, your eyes fluttered open, blinking heavily as the haze of sleep slowly lifted. It took a moment for you to realize what was happening, your mind still fuzzy with tiredness. You blinked again, and in the dim light of the room, you saw him—Jensen, sitting beside you, his expression etched with guilt and exhaustion.

“Hey”, you whispered, your voice thick with sleep as you tried to gather your bearings. “What time is it?”.

Jensen sighed softly, his hand still resting near your face. “It’s late. A little after three”, he admitted, his voice low and apologetic.

You blinked a few more times, your brain slowly processing the situation. You had fallen asleep waiting for him, unsure of what had happened or why he hadn’t shown up or answered your messages. Now here he was, hours later, looking as guilty as you’d ever seen him.

“You’re just getting in?”, you asked softly, your voice gentle but carrying a hint of the hurt you were feeling.

Jensen nodded, his hand moving to lightly touch your shoulder. “Yeah. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for things to go like this. I…I fell asleep with the kids”, he said, his tone full of regret. “I should’ve texted you earlier, but everything with Danneel and the kids just…it got overwhelming, and then I was out cold”.

You sighed, shifting slightly in bed so you could face him more fully. You weren’t angry, not really. More than anything, you were relieved to see him, to hear him explain. But the lingering feeling of being left in the dark still stung.

"I was worried”, you mumbled softly, pulling the blanket up to cover yourself a little more, almost as if it could shield you from the vulnerability you were feeling. You hated the wave of emotion that came with it—the uncertainty, the waiting, the hurt. You felt stupid for staying up, waiting all evening, and now that he was finally here, the mixture of relief and frustration sat heavy in your chest.

Jensen’s heart twisted as he watched you, the disappointment in your eyes cutting deeper than he expected. He knew he’d messed up. He knew how much his silence must have weighed on you, and seeing you like this made him feel even worse.

“I know”, he murmured, his voice low and filled with regret. His hand gently cupped your cheek, thumb tracing lightly along your skin. “I should have been here. I didn’t mean to leave you waiting, and I’m sorry I made you feel like that”.

You nodded slightly, but you still couldn’t shake the feeling. “I just… I felt stupid, you know? Waiting around, not when you were coming”.

Jensen’s chest tightened at your words. He hated that you felt that way. More than anything, he wanted to make it right, to show you how much you meant to him. The urge to close the space between you, to kiss you, and make you feel loved and secure overwhelmed him in that moment.

Without thinking, Jensen leaned down, his lips brushing yours softly at first, then deeper as if he could pour all his apologies and emotions into that kiss. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, holding you gently but with an intensity that conveyed everything he couldn’t put into words. He wanted you to feel how much you mattered to him, how much you meant.

You kissed him back, hesitantly at first, but the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in the kiss began to chip away at the frustration you had felt. The connection between you two was undeniable, even through the mess of emotions. Slowly, you melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

Jensen’s hands moved slowly, gently, as he deepened the kiss, his fingertips lightly brushing over your skin. The warmth of his touch sent a soft shiver down your spine, and despite the lingering frustration from earlier, you couldn’t help but let yourself sink into the moment. The intensity of his kiss, the way his hands moved with care and reverence, slowly began to erase the hurt you’d felt.

His hand slid down to the blanket you had pulled up around yourself, and with a gentle tug, he pushed it aside, revealing your body clad only in a thin thong and a small, fitted top. His breath hitched slightly at the sight of you, his eyes darkening with both desire and tenderness. For a moment, he just looked at you, taking in the way your body curved beneath him, but it wasn’t just lust in his gaze—it was something deeper, something that spoke to how much he wanted to make things right between you.

"God", he whispered softly, his voice thick with emotion as his hand trailed along your side, brushing against the exposed skin of your waist. "You’re so beautiful".

His touch was slow and deliberate, as though he was trying to remind you of how much you meant to him with every stroke of his hand. He leaned down, kissing you again—this time slower, more purposeful—as his hands continued to explore your body with the same delicate care. His fingers traced the line of your hip, slipping under the edge of your top, his touch warm against your skin.

You let out a soft sigh against his lips, your body reacting to the warmth of his closeness, the intimacy of the moment drawing you in further. The lingering hurt you’d felt began to melt away with each tender touch, each gentle kiss. Jensen’s hands moved to lift your top, sliding it up and over your head before tossing it aside. His gaze roamed over you, filled with both admiration and guilt, as if he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be here with you, despite how he’d messed up.

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone, then lower, trailing down the center of your chest as his hands continued to caress your sides, pulling you even closer to him. Every touch, every kiss was an unspoken apology, a silent promise that he was here, fully present with you now.

You ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as his lips explored your skin. The earlier frustration was gone now, replaced by the intensity of the connection you shared with him since day one. Jensen’s hand slipped lower, tracing the curve of your hip, pulling you tighter against him.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze meeting yours, his breath coming a little heavier now. "I love you", he whispered, his voice raw and sincere, as though he needed you to know it in this moment, needed you to feel how much you meant to him.

"I love you too", you whispered back, your hand still resting in his hair, tugging him gently back toward you. You pulled him into another deep, lingering kiss, and in that moment, all the worry and hurt from earlier faded, leaving only the warmth and closeness of being with him.

Jensen’s lips moved softly against your skin, the warmth of each kiss sending shivers through you. As he kissed down your body, his breath grew heavier, but so did the emotion behind his every touch. When he reached the waistband of your panties, he paused, resting his forehead gently against your lower stomach.

“I’m sorry”, he murmured, his voice thick with regret. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t important… like you didn’t matter. You mean everything to me”. His lips brushed lightly over your skin again, soft and reverent.

The sincerity in his words cut through the haze of intimacy, grounding the moment in something deeper. It wasn’t just about desire—this was Jensen trying to make amends, to show you how deeply he cared for you beyond just physical attraction. His hands moved gently along your thighs, gripping softly but with a tenderness that matched his words.

“I never want to hurt you”, he whispered, looking up at you, his fingers gently tracing the outline of your waistband. “I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere”.

Your heart clenched at his words, and you could see how much he meant it. His guilt, his need to make things right, it all reflected in the way he touched you, like he was pouring every ounce of love he had into each movement. His fingers slowly dipped under the waistband of your panties, and he kissed your hips softly, as though asking for permission, waiting for your approval before moving any further.

You let out a soft breath, running your fingers through his hair, gently urging him on. “I know, Jensen”, you whispered, your voice filled with affection and reassurance. “I trust you”.

That seemed to be all the reassurance he needed. Jensen kissed you again, lower this time, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your panties. His hands moved deliberately, carefully sliding them down your hips, his eyes never leaving yours as he did.

Jensen’s actions were deliberate and filled with the sincerity of his earlier words. This wasn’t just about physical intimacy; it was his way of bridging the emotional gap.

As he gently spread your legs more, allowing himself to get comfortable between them, his eyes never left yours. The vulnerability in his gaze mirrored your own, creating a deep connection that went beyond the physical. It was as if, in this moment, all the frustration, the waiting, and the uncertainty were melting away, leaving only the raw, genuine affection you both shared.

“You mean everything to me”, Jensen whispered again, his voice barely audible but filled with unwavering conviction. “I don’t want to lose you. Not like this”.

This was how he expressed the depth of his emotions, how he communicated the things he struggled to say with words. You knew him well enough by now to understand that moments like these were his way of showing just how much you meant to him, even if the way he went about it was slightly unconventional—maybe even a little twisted.

You bit your lip, feeling the warmth of his body and the intensity of his gaze. There was no denying the connection between you, the way his every touch seemed to erase the distance that had built up over the evening. The frustration, the worry—they were dissolving, replaced by the unspoken promise that he was here, fully present, and committed to making things right.

“Jensen…”, you whispered, unsure of how to put into words the mix of emotions swirling inside you. It wasn’t just the relief of him being there; it was the reassurance that, despite everything, he truly did appreciate and care for you. You could feel it in every kiss, in every touch.

Jensen’s lips moved with deliberate tenderness, pressing softly against your most intimate spot. The warmth of his kiss sent a rush of sensations through you, blending seamlessly with the lingering emotions of the evening.

You let out a soft sigh, the mixture of relief and desire swirling within you. The earlier frustrations and worries seemed to dissolve under the sincerity of his actions.

Your hands ran through his hair, pressing him softly closer as he dipped his tongue gently, pressing it flat against your clit.

You moaned quietly, the sound a soft affirmation of the connection you both were rekindling. Jensen responded by pulling you closer, his hands gently resting on your hipbones, guiding you into a more intimate embrace.

Jensen’s tongue moved with deliberate patience, his movements slow and intentional as he began to explore your most intimate spot. Each gentle lick was accompanied by a soft murmur of apology and affection, his eyes never leaving yours.

You felt a warm flush spread through your body, the earlier frustrations and worries melting away more and more under the soothing rhythm of his touch.

Jensen’s hands moved gently along your thighs, his touch both comforting and electrifying. He was attuned to your responses, adjusting his movements to ensure your pleasure. Every lick was slow and deliberate, each one building anticipation and deepening the intimacy between you.

As his actions intensified, the passion overwhelmed your senses. With a breathless whisper, you guided him upwards, your hands trembling slightly as you pulled him closer. He understood your unspoken request instantly; his movements synchronized with your desires as he pushed his boxershorts down, freeing himself.

The moment his lips met yours, the intensity escalated. The taste of yourself on his lips heightened the experience, blurring the lines between your separate existences. As he positioned himself at your entrance, you both paused, sharing a look. Then, with a gentle thrust, he eased inside of you, the depth of his penetration making you cry out softly against his lips. The sensation was overwhelming yet perfect, filling you completely in one fluid motion.

Jensen’s movements were slow, almost reverent, as he began to move within you. Each thrust was measured, designed to bring pleasure and express his apologies and promises non-verbally. His hands, previously tracing paths along your thighs, now cradled your face and ran through your hair, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss that mirrored the rhythm of his movements.

"I love you”, Jensen mumbled into the kiss, his voice low and filled with emotion. His hand gripped your hip firmly, holding you in place as his thrusts became slightly rougher, each movement still deeply reverent but now driven by a growing intensity.

Your response was a soft moan into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him even closer if possible. The way he said those words, with such profound sincerity, made your heart swell within your chest. It wasn’t just a declaration; it was a reaffirmation of everything he felt, everything he wanted to make up to you.

The sound of your combined breaths filled the room. You could feel every inch of him, every pulse and throb as he moved within you, each thrust meeting a need you hadn’t voiced but he had understood.

The intensity of the moment built with each passing second, the room echoing with the sound of your bodies coming together. His free hand wandered up to caress your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw as he looked into your eyes. The connection was palpable, a raw and unguarded exchange of emotions that spoke louder than words could.

“You mean everything to me”, Jensen breathed out, each word punctuated by a deep thrust that sent waves of pleasure radiating through you. His gaze held yours, locked in a moment of complete vulnerability and trust.

As Jensen’s movements became even more focused, each thrust seemed to hit just the right spot inside you, his tip brushing against your G-spot with a precision that left you breathless. The intensity of his actions brought waves of pleasure that coursed through your body. His name escaped your lips in a loud moan, the sound filling the room, mingling with the rhythmic sounds of your unity.

Feeling you clench around him, Jensen’s breath hitched, his movements momentarily faltering as he shuddered with the sensations.

Jensen’s hand, which had been caressing your cheek, moved to entwine his fingers with yours, holding them beside your head on the pillow, anchoring you to the moment, to him.

"Look at me”, Jensen urged gently, his voice low and intense. He squeezed your intertwined hands, while his other arm supported him, keeping him elevated just above you. His gaze was unwavering, filled with a mix of raw desire and deep affection, inviting you to connect not just physically, but soulfully as well.

You met his gaze, locking eyes with him as he continued his deliberate, focused movements. The depth of emotion you saw reflected back at you amplified the sensations rippling through your body. In his eyes, you saw not just the physical pleasure, but a profound commitment and an open vulnerability that he shared only with you.

As Jensen maintained eye contact, his thrusts remained slow and measured, each one driving deeper. The intensity of his gaze, coupled with the depth of his strokes, created a crescendo of sensations that threatened to overwhelm you.

“Stay with me”, he breathed, almost as a whisper, as if he was sharing a secret that only you could understand. This simple plea was laden with meaning, reinforcing his desire to remain connected in every way possible.

Your response was a breathless nod.

His gaze drifted momentarily to your chest, watching the subtle movements synchronized with his thrusts. The sight elicited a deeper groan from him as his eyes fluttered closed, a wave of pleasure evident on his face. Then, with a firmer resolve, he pushed deeper, increasing the force slightly.

When his eyes reopened and met yours again, something in his expression had shifted—a raw intensity, a silent plea mixed with the depths of his feelings laid bare. The connection in that look, so charged and so full, tipped you over the edge. You felt the climax build rapidly, an overwhelming rush that seized your entire being.

As you came around him, your eyes locked with his, the world outside melted away. Your body clenched around him, and his response was immediate; his own climax triggered by the intensity of your release. Jensen’s movements slowed as he rode out the waves of his own release, each pulse and throb echoing yours, deeply interconnected.

After a moment, Jensen’s thrusts slowed to a stop.

As Jensen’s movements finally ceased, his grip on your hand loosened, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. His eyes remained closed, lashes fluttering slightly against the high color of his cheeks.

Slowly, his eyes opened, meeting yours once again with a softness that contrasted starkly with the raw intensity from moments before.

Jensen’s hand shifted from yours to trace a gentle line along your jaw, his touch tender as if he were handling something precious. “You okay?”, he asked softly. It was a simple question, but laden with deeper meanings, seeking assurance not just about your physical state but also about the emotional undercurrents of what had just transpired.

You nodded, unable to keep from smiling slightly.

With a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, Jensen gently pulled out of you, the sudden absence leaving behind a sense of warmth and tenderness. He let himself sink onto the bed beside you, his body still humming with the aftermath of your shared intensity. His hand brushed through his damp hair, pushing it back as he exhaled deeply, still catching his breath.

As you cleaned up, you glanced over at him, his chest still rising and falling with a gentle rhythm, a contented smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Jensen turned his head to face you, his eyes full of affection as he watched you. “I’ll never get tired of moments like this with you”, he murmured, his voice low but filled with sincerity.

You felt a slight blush creeping up your cheeks at Jensen's words, his sincerity catching you off guard in the best way possible. Before you could respond, he gently pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your body tightly against his. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world was just the two of you, nestled in this shared, quiet space.

His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, a comforting rhythm that mirrored the ease of the moment. You let yourself sink into him, your arms finding their way around his waist, holding him as close as he was holding you. The softness of the sheets, the warmth of his skin, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest created a cocoon of calm around you both.

Jensen pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment. "I love you", he whispered, the words almost a breath against your hair. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but each time felt just as powerful, as if he was reminding you of something constant and unwavering between the two of you.

You tilted your head up slightly to meet his gaze, your heart swelling with affection as you whispered back, "I love you too", The smile that spread across his face in response was pure, filled with the kind of warmth that made everything else fade away.

For a while, you both stayed like that—wrapped up in each other, the quiet hum of the world outside the only sound that occasionally drifted in. There was no rush to move, no need for words to fill the silence. Everything felt right, exactly as it was.

Jensen’s hand absentmindedly traced gentle circles on your back, his touch soothing and familiar. "Let’s just stay like this", he murmured, his voice soft, "for as long as we can".

You nodded against him, your body relaxed in his arms. "I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else".

As you drifted back to sleep, your body curled up against Jensen’s, he lay there wide awake, his mind racing even though the room was peaceful. His heart ached as he watched you sleep so peacefully, your face relaxed and your trust in him evident in the way you clung to him even in your sleep. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, careful not to wake you again, his touch soft and reverent.

In the quiet moments that followed, Jensen couldn't shake the heavy weight pressing down on him. You had given him so much—your love, your support, your patience—and yet he felt like he was always falling short. His life had become a series of complications, and somehow, you were constantly caught in the middle of it. The guilt gnawed at him, growing heavier with each passing thought.

He didn’t deserve this level of trust, of unwavering love. Not when he kept disappointing you. Jensen's mind wandered to the countless times his complicated life had interfered—his obligations, his kids, the unresolved issues with Danneel. Every time he thought he was getting things right, something else would fall apart. And yet, through it all, you never wavered. You believed in him, supported him, encouraged him, even when he couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Jensen’s chest tightened with the weight of it all. He couldn’t help but wonder if you deserved more—someone whose life wasn’t so tangled, someone who could give you the stability and simplicity you deserved. The thought of losing you, of not being enough for you, scared him more than anything. But even scarier was the idea that he might hurt you by continuing to drag you through his messy world.

He let out a shaky breath, feeling the lump form in his throat as his eyes lingered on your peaceful face. He loved you more than anything, but how long could you keep giving him so much without him truly being able to give back? He wanted to be the man you deserved, but with everything that weighed on him—the kids, the divorce, the constant demands of his career—he worried that no matter how much he tried, he would always end up falling short.

His hand tightened slightly around your waist, pulling you closer as if to reassure himself that you were still here, still with him. He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there as he closed his eyes, trying to push away the suffocating guilt.

"Sorry", he whispered softly, his voice barely audible. It wasn’t something he intended for you to hear—just something he needed to say, even if only to himself. "I´m so fucking sorry". He wished he could do better, be better, for you. But right now, all he could do was hold you close and hope that someday, somehow, he would be able to live up to everything you saw in him.

As the night wore on and the room remained silent, Jensen stayed awake, his mind restless despite the calm around him. He watched you, a mixture of love and guilt swirling inside him, knowing that no matter how complicated things became, he would do whatever it took to keep you in his life—if only he could figure out how to balance the chaos and keep from breaking the heart of the one person he couldn’t bear to lose.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

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[lostsyren]

Could you do.....maybe Sofia canceling a date with Rafe because her paycheck got delayed, and she feels to embarressed to go on dates in the same clothes and had plan to buy new things. She tells him that she is sick, but then he sees her at a bonfire party. He feels heartbroken thinking she lied because she is tired of him while he is head over heels, he walks off, she runs after.....ANGGSTTT <3

˚⊱🪷⊰˚ date night

{a/n: sorry for taking so long to get to my requests but I hope it was worth the wait!!}

{summary: sofia can’t make it to date night, and rafe’s not happy about it…}

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

“You really like that dress don’t you?” Ruthie said with a slimy smirk across her face.

Those words echoed through Sofia’s mind as she stared at her closet trying to figure out what to wear with her date with Rafe.

She hadn’t even thought twice about the clothes she wore in front of Rafe and his friends before– having enough confidence in her sense of style. Sofia had carefully curated a wardrobe from lucky thrift store finds and the occasional designer splurge when she had some of her pay check left over.

So when Ruthie had teasingly poked fun at her favourite dress (a satiny, floral slip that she adored), her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

“It’s so cute though, if you like that sorta thing, I can understand why you wear it so much,” Ruthie had continued, hiding her bitchy words under a guise of tooth-aching sweetness.

She hadn’t thought about it again until Rafe had asked her to come out to dinner with him a couple nights later. Sofia enthusiastically accepted– it was only when she got home to get ready, seeing her limited selection of clothes, did the stirring regret begin to overwhelm her senses and Ruthie’s words begin to engulf her brain.

She still had time to go out and buy something new, something Rafe would like (and something that would shut Ruthie up), but when she checked her account balance, she realised she didn’t have enough. After the bills for her siblings tuition and the chunk of her wage she’d spent helping her parents fix the car, she was left with nothing. And she wasn’t getting paid again till a couple weeks.

Sofia huffed exasperatedly, sinking into her bed. She hated feeling like this…feeling inferior. What if Rafe through the same thing? That he was taking her to all these flashy places, driving her around in his shiny car and she couldn’t even dress up a bit for it?

With a sinking heart, Sofia grabbed her phone to call him.

It went through instantly.

“Hey baby, everything ok?” He asked, his voice eliciting somersaults in her stomach.

“Hi Rafe, I just…I don’t think I can do dinner tonight, I’ve got this horrible headache and I think I’m just gonna go to sleep,” she fibbed, biting her lip.

“We don’t have to go out, I can pick you you up and we can just chill at mine– order from that place you like?”

Sofia didn’t like lying to him, it almost physically pained her, gnawing at her bottom lip and playing with the dead skins around her thumb. “I think I just needs some rest.”

“Ok then, get well soon yeah? And text me if you need anything alright? Goodnight Sof,” he said, disappointment toning his words.

“Night Rafe.”

She ended the call quickly, burning hot with guilt– she hated lying. Especially to her boyfriend of all people.

And now she had nothing to do for the rest of the night all because she was too embarrassed to wear the same thing twice…it was honestly so stupid. Sofia huffed and turned around in her bed.

As if sensing her impending boredom, her phone buzzed with a text from her friend, talking about a bonfire party at the Boneyard.

Sofia smiled too herself, slipping on her worn trainers and getting ready to head to the beach.

She didn’t have to worry about what to wear there.

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

Rafe, along with Topper, Kelce and Ruthie drove down to the Boneyard. He wasn’t supposed to tag along, but with Sofia cancelling their plans, he had nothing better to do.

As they rolled down the rocky beach in Topper’s jeep, Rafe pulled out his phone, sending Sofia a quick text.

R: Hope that headache goes away soon then maybe we can reschedule? :)

Rafe was surprised at how disappointed he felt after she said she couldn’t make it. All he could think about sitting in the back of the car, watching the Stygian waves roll onto the coast, was how much he’d rather be with her right now.

“Yo Rafe, I thought you were busy tonight?” Kelce pestered with a smirk.

Topper chuckled lowly, “oh yeah, wasn’t it date night tonight? What happened to that?”

“She wasn’t feeling too good so now I’m stuck with you idiots.” He muttered.

“Oh come on, you’ll see her again the club. I’ll make sure to ask for doubles so she’ll come by our table twice, yeah?” Ruthie goaded, twisting her body around so she could see him.

Rafe brewed with a dull anger– he always thought Ruthie was a bitch.

“Two drinks Ruthie? You sure about that? Aren’t you a lightweight?” He scoffed.

“Hey hey hey, let’s have fun tonight yeah?” Topper mediated, parking up the jeep next to the arsenal of vehicles.

The four of them hopped out, heading to the kegger, quickly getting pulled in by their kook friends, enveloped in the heady flow of gossip and conversation. Rafe just stood quietly, sipping at his third cup, enjoying the warmth of the fire on his face and salt of the air on his tongue.

His vision strayed over to the other side of the beach, where all the pogues had congregated. And that’s when he saw her. Dressed in her favourite shorts and sunset coloured hoodie– she looked gorgeous bathed in the glow of the bonfire.

Rafe felt his heart sink into the cavern of his ribcage. She lied to him.

Settling his solo cup down on to the kegger, he pulled out his phone and rang her number, watching her like a predator eyes its prey, his dilated pupils honed on to her unassuming figure.

She excused herself from her friends, walking off to a quieter area before she answered his call.

“Hey baby,” she cooed with a smile, Rafe seething in silence as he watched.

“How you feeling? Still got that headache?” He asked bluntly, his molars grinding down on each other.

“Yeah- yes, still hurts.” She said. Rafe saw her eyebrows furrow as she bit her lip furtively.

“You at home? It sounds kinda loud over the phone?”

“Yeah my siblings have the TV on,” she blatantly lied. Rafe breathed in deeply through his nose.

“Oh so you’re not at the bonfire at the boneyard?”

Rafe watched her face drop, her gaze darting around the beach as she stayed silent on the phone. She locked eyes with him from across the sand, her mouth parting slightly, lips forming a little ‘o’ shape, something that he usually found cute, but now it just irked him.

“Rafe,” she said, voice bordering a whisper.

“You fucking liar,” he hissed, before ending the call, and heading over to the cars, ready to call an Uber for himself and head home.

He tried to regulate his lurching breaths, anger beginning to flow hot through his veins, but it was hard to do when a heart rending sadness slammed into his nervous system, catching him off guard.

Sofia? A liar? No. She wasn’t like that. She wasn’t like everyone else.

His fingers struggled to order an Uber, shaking with the aftershock at seeing her deceive him with such disregard.

“Rafe! Wait please I can explain.” He whipped his head back to see Sofia approach him.

“Stop it Sofia, explain what? Huh? How you lied to me?”

A pang of regret reverberated through him when he saw her glassy, tear filled eyes, her quivering lip. Was he being too harsh? No. She was the one who was in the wrong– not him.

“I’m sorry, I just, it’s ugh it’s going to sound so stupid Rafe, but I promise I didn’t mean to hurt or lie to you.”

“What’s going to sound so stupid? Why you made an excuse to get out of being with me? You hate me that bad huh?”

“No no! Of course not. Look, Ruthie said something the other day…” she began, her cheeks red and tear stained.

“Ruthie? What the fuck does she have to do with this?” He yelled. They were on the outskirts of the party, away from the crowds and crackle of firewood.

“She was making fun of how I wear the same thing all the time, you know? And it made me get self conscious…and tonight when I was getting ready, I just got in my own head, thought you would want me dress up more, not just wear the same things every time.”

Rafe’s face contorted in confusion. She couldn’t be serious right now?

“And I can’t just buy a new dress like that, I have bills to pay and stuff so I was just feeling sorry for myself and lied because of my own stupid feelings.” Sofia’s lips began to quiver, another bout of tears quickly approaching, before she shrouded her face with her hands, muffling her soft cries.

“Sof…” he said, tone gentle and kind, feeling like shit for shouting at her. He should’ve know Sofia had a reason for lying and he should’ve know Ruthie had something to do with it.

“Ugh it was so stupid, and I feel like an idiot.” She laughed mirthlessly, as he pulled her into a hug, letting her cry against his chest.

“Baby, you know I don’t care right?”

“Yeah I know. I care though.” She mumbled against his warm embrace.

“Come on, let’s get out of here yeah?”

“Yeah, ok. I’m sorry again, I feel terrible.”

Rafe slung an easy arm around her shoulder, leading her up to road where their taxi was going to meet them, “well don’t, otherwise I’ll feel like shit for shouting at you.”

“Fine. Truce?”

Rafe chuckled softly, looking down at her with a soft smile, as she gazed up at him with her glossy eyes.

“Yeah, truce.”

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

A couple days later, after Sofia had slept over at his place, she woke up to the birds singing on Figure 8, a sound lost amidst the cacophony of building work and barking dogs on the Cut. She sighed contentedly, turning around in the sumptuous sheets ready to nestle up against Rafe, to find the bed empty. She hummed in dismay, forgetting it was Sunday, the day he needed to go down to the office.

Eventually, after letting her eyes flutter shut for a couple more blissful minutes, Sofia rolled out of bed, slipping on Rafe’s shirt, a habit she was getting increasingly used to.

She pattered across the hard wood floors ready to get into the shower, before her eyes snagged on something resting on the drawers. It was a cream coloured bag, one from those fancy stores in Kildare Town Centre, the straps made of black silk.

On it was a sticky note, Rafe’s familiar scratchy writing scrawled across the paper.

Now you don’t have an excuse to miss dinner with me :)

Sofia’s eyebrows quirked up in curiosity as she read the cryptic note, rifling into the bag.

Inside was maybe a dozen items of clothes, from satin dresses to cashmere shirts, all in shades of her favourite colours– blooming pinks, soft oranges, cherry reds. She adored every single one.

Her heart soared with excitement and warmth, her cheeks tinged with a rosy blush. Rafe could sometimes be so sweet it left her weak-kneed and gooey, her insides alight with joy.

A creeping sensation of guilt arose– these must’ve been expensive. Sofia noticed he’d removed all the tags off them, probably anticipating her qualms about the price. But she put it aside, ready to first try them on. She’d pay him back, she told herself, running her hands over the silken fabric.

Carefully unpacking each item, she laid them out on the bed, until her fingers skimmed the final one.

Pulling it out, she rolled her eyes with a small smile when she saw the two piece lingerie set Rafe had nestled at the bottom, comprised of black lace and gossamer.

Sofia laughed softly, as she put the piece along with the rest of her gifts– maybe she already had a way to pay him back, one that was much more fun than working double shifts at the club.

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

[b3ach-bunn7]

JAPANESE DENIM PT 2

The three days you spend in the castle before you wedding with Prince Satoru

Royal!AU, fluff, JJK

——————————————————————————

Your new temporary bedroom is so unlived in it makes you uncomfortable. You sleep on sheets that are too stiff and a blanket too big and woollen that heats you up impossibly every night. You’re to stay here for the three nights until your wedding, where you’ll then be sharing a room with your husband. You are not to see each other until then, some silly tradition you find yourself somewhat reluctant to follow. 

Your new lady in waiting, Nobara, tells you about the castle, the people, who runs the gossip mill. You feel overwhelmed as she takes you on a tour of the castle. You admire the large gardens, the extravagant rooms and corridors that look like experts from the fantasy books you spend your nights reading. The maids in the kitchen and the soldiers around the halls all bow to you, and you smile, skin prickling at all the attention.

Nobara, you realise quickly, is loud and talkative. You don’t think it’s necessarily normal for a lady in waiting to be so full of energy, but she’s young, and the casual way she talks to you is a welcome thing. She feels more like a friend as she chats to you about her two knight friends, the two boys you’d seen at the ball. She’s far enough in age to you that you feel a little sisterly to her.

You thank the setting of the sun, tired of greeting and meeting so many new people. You’re about to get in bed. You’re wearing a too short and too sheer nightgown, lacy pink material that fluffs up around your legs. It twirls as you move, and you like the feeling of the material on your skin. It cuts right at your mid thigh, and it feels like a lot to wear to bed. But Nobara had left it on your bed, and you felt too bad to say anything about it, considering her excitement at your new wardrobe. You pull back the covers of your bed, thick and warm, and are just about to step in.

And then somebody knocks on your door.

Once, and then twice, and then they just keep knocking until you get up, flinging the door open. You assume it’s Nobara, because who else would be so brave to knock on your door like that, and so late at night. 

Satoru. That’s who. 

“What- Satoru, what are you doing, we are not supposed to see each other until the wedding!” You splutter, pulling him into your room before anyone else sees him.

He doesn’t speak though. You look at him confused and wave a hand in his face.

“Hello?” 

But it’s like he’s somewhere else. And it’s then, when a particularly strong breeze comes in from your open window, that you remember what you’re wearing, and you finally notice the red that dusts Satoru’s cheeks and your eyes widen.

“Oh my- Look away!” You hiss, rushing to your bed to grab a sheet to cover yourself.

Satoru turns quickly. “I’m sorry, I assumed you would be decent when I knocked!”

“Knocked? You practically broke my door down. What is it you want?” You huff, now covered.

“Well, I wanted-“

“You can turn around now.”

He does. He pouts a little at your new outfit.

“Shame. I liked your little nightgown.” 

“You have about five seconds before I call someone to escort you out of here.”

“Alright, alright.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “I just want to talk.” Satoru says.

You frown slightly. “Talk about what?”

He drops his hands and gestures at your bed. “Can you sit? And calm down? I can feel how tense you are from here.”

You let your shoulders fall. You suppose nobody will walk into your room. And he’s the prince, after all. Not much can be done to punish him. 

So you relent, and listen. He sits himself on your bed as well, shamelessly crossing his long legs, completely ignoring how inappropriate even being in the same room as you, let alone bed, is. You don’t protest as much as you should, only bring your covers up to hide the expanse of your legs your short nightdress reveals. His eyes dart down at the movement and he smiles.

“Why are you here, Satoru?” You ask.

“You see, the benefit to you not knowing who I was yesterday is that you spilled your pretty little heart out to me.”

Your nose wrinkles. “I don’t think that’s entirely true.”

“But it is. You are scared because you know nothing about me, and you are scared I’m a hideous troll. That is what you said to me yesterday. And now, we can at least check one of those off the list.”

He leans forward just that bit closer, forearms resting on his knees. White eyelashes flutter as blinks innocently. “Am I hideous, Y/N?”

God, you wish he was. That might make keeping a safe distance from him easier. But when he looks at you like this, like he wants you in a way no man ever has, you have to look away.

“No. I suppose not.”

He smirks. “I’ll take it.” 

Satoru sits back a bit and you remember how to breathe.

“So. What else would you like to know about me?”

“You snuck into my room so that we can do trivia on Satoru Gojo?” 

“The best kind. Come on, ask me something and I’ll ask you the same back.”

You sigh, relenting, ignoring how cute he looks when he cheers quietly.

“Okay. If you could have any superpower what would you pick?”

Satoru barks a laugh. “Y/N, I meant questions to get to know me. Like, my favourite colour or something.”

“This is getting to know you! Respond, if you don’t mind.”

“That- Okay. Fine. I’d have… Telekinesis.” 

You wrinkle your nose and he furrows his brows at your reaction. “What?”

“Nothing.” You say.

“Well, it is clearly something. Is my answer not good enough for you?”

You giggle. “No, it is perfectly fine! Just surprised me. I thought you’d say something like. Super strength.”

He tilts his head. “And why’s that?” 

“Most men do. Something about power and their over inflated egos.”

His mouth gaped. “My ego is perfectly inflated, thank you very much.” You just grin, shrugging.

And the two of you sit like that, for entirely too long. The questions are all innocent to begin with. Your favourite colour, your favourite food. What you hate most about the balls you always attend. And then, little by little, you get closer. Not just physically, because his hand is now toying with the edge of your duvet, but you feel like you know him more. It’s not by a lot, but. It’s better than before.

“What are you most scared of? About our marriage?” Satoru’s voice is soft as he speaks. The light of your candle flickers across his face, and you wonder how long you can keep him here like this, the flame lighting his eyes up perfectly.

“Losing my freedom.” 

You don’t feel scared to say the words like you’re sure you’d feel around any other man. It’s no secret that as a woman, your life stops being about you once you’re wed, and more about how you can serve your husband, your future kids. 

“What do you mean?”

You smile bitterly. You didn’t expect him to know, but it still stings a little that he doesn’t.

“I knew I’d never get to rule my kingdom. It will most likely be any sons I have, never me. But. I could still do what I could, help my father however he’d let me. Now, though. I am too far from home to be of any help. And I do not have a role in this land, and I respect that.”

You look down at your sheets. Your fingers trail along the embroidered designs idly.

“It is just difficult to come to terms with the fact that it is now officially over. That all I am is a wife, a mother.” 

Satoru sighs heavily. His fingers reach forward and intertwine with yours. 

“You are not just a wife to me, and you never will be. If you wish to have some authority, some duty, I will make that happen. If not now, then when I am king.”

You look up at him. And his face is deathly serious, in a way you’ve not really seen on him before. He looks at you earnestly and you feel your throat tighten.

“You would do that for me?” You don’t need to say how unspoken such an attitude is.

“I would do anything for you, Y/N.”

After that, the topics get much lighter. Satoru’s fingers stay clasping yours and you let them. The night grows later and the candle on your bedside table burns smaller and smaller. It’s when it gets this late, that you’re yawning and blinking at him lazily, Satoru’s tongue gets looser, and his questions curb something dangerous.

“So. Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

“Satoru!”

“What?”

You shake your head. “That’s hardly appropriate.”

“And why not? You’re to be my wife soon, no? Can’t we talk about such topics?” 

You can feel the heat on your face and you know he can see it. You roll your eyes. “Okay. Fine.” 

You adjust your position, lifting up the sleeve of your nightdress where it was slipping. “I have. Once.”

And the expression on his face twists .immediately into what you think is jealousy. 

“You’ve what?”

You laugh slightly. “I’ve kissed one boy.”

He frowns. “Who?”

“Aw. Are you jealous?” You grin.

“Well, yes. Of course I am! Your first kiss is supposed to be with me.” 

“It is not that big of a deal, Satoru. He was nobody important, and I do not even remember his name. And I was young, too. Thirteen, I believe.”

He grumbles, and you laugh at the pout on his face. “Cheer up, Prince. It is not like you have never kissed anyone before.”

The tips of his ears redden and it suddenly makes sense why he’s so bothered. You coo and he scoffs, waving you off. 

“Enough.”

“Aw, it’s okay, Satoru. Does this mean I’ll be your first kiss?”

“Yes. And some random boy will be yours.” He huffs, crossing his arms.

“Don’t pout. You’ll be my first in- In other things.” You say.

And how quickly his pout disappears and is replaced with a smirk, one that threatens something with the way he looks at you. He moves closer to you.

“You can say the word you know.” 

“I know.”

He smiles. “Say it then.”

You scoff. “No. I- No.”

His smirk darkens and he leans closer. “You scared?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “No.” 

“Are you excited?” 

“I- Satoru. I don’t-“

“I am.” 

The admission comes easily as if it means nothing. His words fluster you and you laugh nervously. He just watches you, hands slowly sliding out your lap to rest on your thigh. It’s over the duvet, but still, the promise behind them has you swallowing roughly.

“You looked beautiful last night. In that dress. You look beautiful right now.” 

His hand reaches up, moving the sleeve that has slipped down your shoulder again back up. His fingers smooth over the soft silk and you let it. He’s touched you before, grabbed your hands and toyed with them, but this feels so different. There’s a tension in the room you cannot quite place. You can’t judge the way Satoru’s eyes dip down to your lips because you know you’re doing the same thing.

“I know I have to be patient. And I will be.” His voice has dropped an octave lower, something husky and dangerous.

“But you are making it very difficult for me. Dressed like that. Looking how you do.” 

“It’s just a nightgown, Satoru.” Your words come out more desperate than you intend.

“Hm. What I saw when I walked in leaves little to the imagination.” 

You laugh slightly, nervous and excited. “I’m excited, too. Just scared as well.”

His eyes frown before his lips do. “Don’t be. I’ll make it good for you, I promise.”

Something coils in your stomach and you shift your legs. “I- I think it is time you leave. I am tired, and it is late.” 

He nods, understanding. His hand drops from your shoulder and he smiles.

“I will see you tomorrow.”

You snort a laugh. “You really should not. It is against the rules.”

“You will learn I am not one for following them.”

The next day Satoru does not come creeping into your room because you see him during the day. You and Nobara are walking in the courtyard, the sun setting over your skin, when you hear yells and then a loud thud. You turn a corner, past the large detailed stone walls and see Satoru, clutching his sides and laughing at two boys on the floor. They’re all stood on what you think is a makeshift battleground, and your memory tells you that this is the practise grounds Nobara had mentioned yesterday. While the two boys look familiar, you pay them no mind as you can’t stop staring at Satoru. He’s got a sword in his hand and he’s wearing a white button up with the sleeves rolled up his forearms, and his hair sticks to his forehead, sweat glistening on his skin. 

“Aw, look at the future bride ogling her husband.” Nobara coos.

You tut. “Enough of that. I was simply looking. At all three of them.”

“Whatever you say, princess. It’s about time you met them. Let us go.” 

She bounds forward and the boys perk up at the sight of her. They wrap her in a hug and she groans, trying to shove them off. She finally breaks free, dusting off her dress.

“You two reek, get off me.” She sniffs, turning her head.

Satoru notices you standing to the side, and he immediately runs up to greet you. He beams as you focus your attention to him.

“Afternoon, princess.”

“Afternoon, prince.”

He grins. He rubs his brow with the back of his hand. “So. What brings you here?”

You nod your head towards Nobara. “She was taking me on a walk and we ended up here.” You watch the three of them talking, a small smile gracing your lips. “They’re sweet.”

Satoru rolls his eyes. “What they are is lazy. Haven’t been training hard enough.” 

Satoru speaks loud enough that the two boys hear and start scowling, immediately stopping their animated conversation with Nobara to argue.

“No fair! You’re so hard on us, Sensei.” The pink haired boy pouts.

Your eyebrows raise at the name. “Sensei? You teach these boys?” You ask.

Satoru nods, and you can see the pride on his face he’s trying to hide. “I’m the best in this kingdom! Only makes sense I teach our future, no?”

The sound of your voice seems to alert the two boys of your presence. They quickly straighten out, bowing. It’s been two days of this and you still have no idea how to react.

“Your majesty! It’s lovely to meet you.” One of them, the one you’ve learnt is called Yuji, grins.

“Please, call me Y/N. And it’s lovely to meet you both!” You reply.

“Well, Y/N, are you going to marry-“

“Do not actually call her by her name, you fool. It’s disrespectful.” The other one, Megumi, scoffs, shoving Yujis shoulder.

“She just told me to!”

“No, Megumi is right, it is disrespectful. She’s  just weird like that.” Nobara chimes in.

Yuji gasps. “You can’t call a princess weird!”

“It is quite alright. I've done it before.”

Yuji shakes his head in shame. “I hope she hangs you for your attitude.”

Megumi snorts a laugh. “About time somebody did.”

Satoru rolls his eyes as they start bickering. He pulls you to the side, hand curling easily around your elbow. He gives you and the dress Nobara had picked and excitedly told you was worth more than she got paid in a month a once over.

“You look gorgeous this morning.” He says, hand still lingering on your arm.

You smile. “Thank you. As do you.”

“Really?”

You nod. “The dishevelled look is doing you wonders.”

He barks a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I’m in dire need of a shower. Training them takes it out of me.”

You look back at the boys. “Can I see?”

Satoru pauses for a moment, hand still trying to fix his mussed hair. His sword is still in his other hand, and you watch with keen interest as his fingers tighten around the hilt. 

“You want to see me fight?” He questions.

You fluster a bit at the way he’s looking at you, the knowing tease in his eyes. “Yes. I want to see if my future husband is adept.”

“I’m much more than adept.”

“Then there should be no issue.”

He sighs, his grin back with more fevour. “I love your attitude, do you know that?”

“That is why you are marrying me, no?” 

He laughs. “Okay, enough. Now watch.”

Satoru walks towards the boys. You laugh at the disgruntled expression on their face when he ushers them to the centre of the field. Yuji passes Megumi his fallen sword and you gesture Nobara to come stand with you. She walks over, looking slightly lost.

“They told me they were done training for today.”

“Yes, I think this is my fault. I want to see him in action.”

Nobara looks at your knowingly. “Sure.”

“Hush now. Look.”

Satoru gives them a second before he goes at them. It’s like art, watching Satoru move. The two boys are good, you can tell with how easily they swing their swords, the practised way they dodge attacks. But Satoru, he is a marvel. You watch as the lines of muscles in his arm ripple as he brings his sword down, the amount of strength behind each hit rattling the metal. You know he’s just showing off for you, but you don’t care. He fights off the two of them easily, barely breaking a sweat as he slides and dodges their hits. He even has the nerve to send you a cheeky wink and you smile despite yourself.

The match ends quickly, the two knights swords on the floor once Satoru easily unarms them. You clap excitedly and he bows. The two boys grumble to themselves, dusting dirt off their tunics once more.

“You’re supposed to go easy on us.” Yujii huffs, retrieving their swords from the floor.

“How will you learn if I go easy on you?” Satoru puts his hands on his hips and catches his breath.

Megumi rolls his eyes. “You’re just trying to impress the princess.”

Satoru softens slightly at Megumi, and he practically coos at him. “Aww, don’t be sad, Megumi! You did a great job.” 

Megumi just rolls his eyes again. The two boys bid you goodbye, and you tell Nobara to go with them.

“Alright. I will come meet you in your room once you are finished speaking to the prince.” She curtsies quickly before rushing off to catch up with the others.

You turn to Satoru to find him already looking at you. The sword is back in the scabbard on his waist, and he crosses his arms. His biceps look even bigger under his shirt as he does so and you avert your gaze before he notices your staring.

“So. How was I?”

“You were amazing! I know your ego is quite big already, but. I suppose it’s justified. You were quite incredible, fighting like that.”

Satoru grins something proud and satisfied, ignoring your little dig at his ego. He steps forward slightly and he smells like sweat and the outdoors. 

“I am glad I could impress you so, princess.” He says.

“How long have you been fighting for?”

Satoru thinks for a moment. “Since I was very young. My father taught me, and I trained as hard as I could until I was the best around.” 

“That is quite admirable. It’s obvious with how easily you can move around.”

Satoru nods. “I like teaching the young ones. I-“ Satoru pauses slightly. His face turns to something a little more vulnerable, and he doesn’t make much eye contact with you when he continues.

“My father is a good man, but. His teachings were not the greatest. I hated fighting and training and the idea of it all. It is better now, of course. I just do not want the younger generation to go through what I did.”

You know you shouldn’t, but your hand reaches forward and grabs his. He looks back at you and you give him a smile.

“You are a good man, Satoru. And it is doing wonders for those kids, believe me. I can see from only speaking to them once.”

Satoru softens slightly. He sighs, like a little weight has been relieved from his shoulders.

“I am not sure what I did to deserve you.”

“Something good, I imagine.”

If Satoru’s last day before the wedding has been anything like yours, hectic and so busy, you’re sure he had no time to do so.

The day is spent drifting from room to room. You pick out a bouquet of flowers from too many options. You stand as straight as possible and suck in as much as you can so that they can stuff you in a corset and dress that you’re scared to even move it. It’s layers of soft, white fabric, shining gems sewn into the neckline and all down the front. It shimmers as it catches onto the light form the big open windows. You smooth your hand over the soft material. Nobara stands to the side, and while she keeps silent in the presence of the tailor and other maids, you can see the excitement on her face. 

When you catch sight of yourself in the mirror on the other end of the room you pause. You look older. Maybe it's the white, or maybe it's the fact you’ll be a Gojo in hours, but something feels different. You aren’t sure how you feel. You try not to think about it too much because you can't decipher what's excitement and what's fear.

Your tailor, Nanako, smiles at you. “Nervous?”

You nod slightly as her assistant, Mimiko, adjusts your bodice. “Yes. A little.”

“You have nothing to worry about. Of all the princes I’ve made suits for, Prince Satoru is the nicest.” Nanako says. She kneels down to fix the trail of your dress.

“Really?” Mimiko nods.

“Mhm. He’s very nice. And he is very attractive, too.”

“Mimiko! That is her husband.”

“I am just being reassuring!”

The best part of your day is definitely the time you spend in the kitchens. The smell hits you the second you walk in, and the different foods are all spread out across the tables for you to try. There's duck and chicken and lamb, desserts like tarts and cheesecakes all waiting for you to try.  You smile for the first time all day. The head chef, a man with pink hair oddly similar to Yuji, looks at you from across the table. The room is large, stoves and ovens lining the walls. You glance to your left and see the room you assume is full of food. The kitchen is surprisingly empty other than the man, and he bows when you and Nobara fully walk in.

“Princess. We’ve arranged a series of hors d'oeuvres, mains and desserts for you to try. The cake has already been chosen by the prince, and we’ve left a sample for you there.” He gestures to the slice of cake and you beam.

“Thank you. My name is Y/N. And yours?”

He raises a brow at your introduction. “Sukuna.”

“It is nice to meet you.” Sukuna smirks slightly at your cheery attitude. He gestures to the chair in front of you and Nobara pulls it out for you and you sit.

“And you.” He says.

He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Nobara stands besides you.

“So. Where shall we start?”

“You can begin with the hors d'oeuvres.”

As you try the food, he explains each dish, where all the ingredients are sourced. Sukuna lights up slightly when he begins talking, and you can tell he cares about what he does. Nobara told you on the way over that he was the best chef in the kingdom, and the taste of the food tells you as much. 

“This is amazing! And you made all these recipes yourself?”

He nods, standing a bit taller. “I have help, of course, but these were all made by me and my sous chefs. The rest of the workers will be available on the wedding night to make sure everything gets out on time.”

“I love it all. You are very talented, Sukuna.”

He bows his head. “Thank you, Princess.”

You gesture Nobara to come try some of your food. “Come, help me decide between these two.”

You spend the next few minutes getting through the food. You chat with Sukuna, and he tells you that Yujii is his brother, his younger one at that. Sukuna used to be a knight too, but after a bad fight his leg was injured too badly for him to fight again. But, his loyalty to the royal family was not forgotten, which is why after discovering he could actually cook very well, he’d become their Chef.

“Do you miss fighting?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Of course. It’s exhilarating stuff, but. It cannot be helped. I enjoy cooking and I’m good at it. Not much to complain about.”

You nod. 

“That makes sense. I- Ow!” You wince as something sharp scratches your gums.

“Is everything okay, Princess?” Nobara asks, turning to you quickly.

“Yeah, I just- There’s.” 

You turn your head quickly, and try to pull out whatever is in your mouth as dignified as you can. When your hand comes up, the three of you all look at the piece of crab shell in your hand.

“What the hell is that?” Sukuna furrows his brow.

“Hey! Watch your language.” Nobara chides.

Sukuna doesn’t listen. He reaches forward and grabs it out of your hand. He looks pissed. Before you can even say anything he’s storming off into that room in the back. You and Nobara both peer inside.

“Where is he going?” You ask.

Nobara shrugs. “I’m not sure. He looks angry, though.”

“I know. I am a little-“

“What the fuck is this!” Sukuna suddenly yells.

You both jump at his voice. You both lean over and peer through the door to see him yelling at two men you assume are his sous chefs. They hold their heads down and Nobara giggles next to you.

“They look like their teacher’s telling them off.” She whispers.

You wave your hand at her. “Shh, I want to hear.”

He holds up the small piece of shell in their faces. “Look! The Princess could have choked on this, and then what? We’d all be hanged because you dumbasses didn’t check the crab properly.

“I thought-”

Sukuna holds up a hand and it’s enough to silence the one who tries to speak.

“There’s no excuse for it.” Sukuna shakes his head. “You, you. Fuck off! Get out my face.”

The two men walk out and you and Nobara quickly straighten up as Sukuna comes back into the room. He bows deeply. You elbow Nobara as she stifles a laugh.

“I am deeply sorry, Princess. Please excuse my sous chefs, they will be properly dealt with later.”

You do not want to know what that means. You laugh slightly, gesturing for him to stand. “Please, do not worry, it was only an accident.”

“An accident they shouldn’t have happened.” He sighs.

You smile. “It’s okay, I am sure it will be remedied for tomorrow night.”

Sukuna just looks at you. He studies you for a moment.

“I’ve catered quite a few meetings between the Prince and his potential wives. I am quite glad he picked you. Most of the others were insufferable.”

You snort a laugh before covering your mouth, face flushing in embarrassment. “Apologies. That was not very ladylike of me.”

Sukuna smirks slightly. “Your secret is safe with me.”’

The day ends quicker than you think. You find yourself sitting in your room, trying to fool yourself into thinking you’re not up waiting for Satoru. That and the fact that you think the nerves are going to eat you alive.

You perk up slightly at the quick knock at your door. You get up, this time wearing a robe to cover yourself, and usher Satoru in.

“Aw. No nightgown today?”

You smack the side of his shoulder and he grins. “I missed you.”

“It has only been a day, Satoru.”

“A day too long.”

You both sit on your bed. You look out your window, at the bright moon in the sky and the expanse of the garden you can see from where you’re sitting. You feel Satoru’s hand clasp yours and you look at him. His brows are pinched with worry, and it’s weird seeing his lips turned down in a small frown.

“Are you alright?”

You breathe in deeply. “Do I not seem alright?”

“You look tired. A little troubled.” Satoru inches a little closer.

“Hm. It has been a long day.”

He sighs. “Tell me about it. You’ve been preparing for the wedding too?”

You nod. “I feel bad complaining. I have people waiting on me hand and foot, but. It is a lot.”

“You are allowed to be tired, you know.”

Satoru is looking at you so tenderly. It’s weird, you know it is, how much you feel for him in such little time. You’ve known him for four days only. Spoke to him on four separate occasions and yet you can’t help but be excited that you’ll be spending the rest of your life with him.

Of all the suitors your parents had entertained, he was by far the most attractive, but also the kindest. He seemed like a good person from what you’d seen and you knew that he’d make a good King when the time came. He had good money, good people. Your lady in waiting, the chefs, his family. You were lucky. Luckier than a lot of girls like you.

And you still felt like you deserved none of it.

There was a princess out there made for this sort of life. Not you. Sometimes you think you would’ve been better as a peasant.

Satoru’s fingers stroke over your hand. “Tell me what is wrong.”

His voice is so careful and caring that you feel tears threaten behind your eyelids. You sigh shakily.

“I just. It’s a lot. It’s so much. Sometimes I feel like it should not be me. That there is someone more deserving of this.”

Satoru’s frown deepens. “Do not say that.”

“But it is how I feel. I- I am trying to ignore it, but I am so nervous.”

Satoru moves closer to you. He smells fresh, like he’s just showered, and you notice some curls in his hair are still damp. 

“You think I do not feel the same? That I’m not scared I won’t be a good husband?”

It’s your turn to be confused. “What? Why would you think that?”

“Why would I not? It’s my job to protect you. Keep you safe. Make sure you’re happy, make sure everything is perfect for you. And I know how adverse you are to this all. Which makes me even more scared.” 

Your heart pangs with guilt at the look on his face. He looks so worried. You grasp his hand properly.

“No. No, I am not. Not anymore. Now that it’s you.”

His lips part like he wants to say something. But he doesn’t. Just looks at you.

“You- You changed my mind. I do not know how, and I do not know why so quickly but. That is not why I am scared.”

You turn away. Your words feel too vulnerable to say right to his face. 

“I want to be good for you, Satoru. I want to be a good wife. You deserve it. And I am frightened I cannot give it to you.”

Fingers curve under you chin. They turn your head so that your facing him, and the worry is replaced with something so lovely you want to look away again.

“It’s okay. We are supposed to be scared. I’d be more worried if you were not.”

You laugh wetly, and he swipes under your eyes at the tears that fall. 

“Don’t cry, princess.” He whispers.

“You are too kind. I can’t help it.”

“Would you like me to be mean?” 

You hum thoughtfully. “Maybe save that for after the wedding.”

The tips of his ears redden and his grip on your face tightens slightly.

“God, the flilth that comes out of that mouth.” He scolds, but you know it holds no mirth.

His hand drops from your face into your lap. You wonder how shocked your mother would be if she saw you two sitting this close before marriage.

“How do you even manage to sneak in here every night?”

Satoru grins. “My valet is very kind. Very susceptible to persuasion.”

You giggle. “I could say the same for Nobara. She hasn’t said a word.”

Satoru rolls his eyes. “You and I both know that girl is running to Yujii and Megumi every night. Would explain their giggling during training.”

You brain trails back to the two of them before, when Satoru was training them. Even then you remember the slight fondness he held for Megumi.

“Megumi. He is your favourite, correct?” 

Satoru winces, rubbing a hand on his head. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only slightly. I have a good eye.”

He sighs, nodding. He moves himself until he’s sitting beside you, and not in front. His shoulder is warm as it hits yours and you both lean against your headrest.

“Yes. I’ve known him since he was a child. His father was killed in a battle, and so I’ve took to checking up on him and his sister all their lives. Once he was old enough he joined the forces.”

As if he couldn’t get any better.

“That’s so kind. He seems like a good boy.”

Satoru hums in agreement. “He is. They both are, really.” 

Satoru stretches. His sleep pants stretch over muscled thighs and you look away quickly. 

“I met your tailors. And your chef.”

“Oh, Sukuna? He is very good at what he does.”

“Mhm. One of his sous chefs made a mistake and he tore into them. It was very funny.”

Satoru snorts. “He’s passionate. It is what makes his cooking so much better.”

You sigh. The darkness from outside tells you it’s late, and the way your eyes droop shut are tell enough that your tried. Satoru is telling you a story about something, and you’re too tired to pay enough attention. You let your eyes shut and you lean on his shoulder.

“You falling asleep on me?” Satoru mumbles.

“Mhm. No. Keep talking. M’listening.”

He chuckles. “Alright. Good night, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Satoru.”

————————————————-—————————

I had a vision of Gordon Ramsey x Sukuna and that vision had to be realised

I acc have nooooo idea how to write a wedding part 😅 but thsi was so super fun to write! I love royal aus even tho I’m sure these ar won’t factually accurate

I hope u enjoyed!

[h-ngm-nssluttt]

Color My World

Jake Seresin x Reader

Ella Kazansky never thought she would be able to find someone to bring color into her world after her boyfriend Max passed away. But someone she least’s expects brings the most vibrant new colors into her world.

This will be a series.

Color My World Chapter 2

Song: If I would have known - Kyle Hume

Chapter 1

I lay in our bed, comforter pulled tightly up to my chin as I lay there and stare at the empty space beside me. The sound of the rain outside is the only sound filling the quiet air. The dark gray sky and clouds swirling outside as the rain streaks down the window like tears. It’s like the sky decided to cry today because the world misses him too. I close my eyes as the tears slide down my cheeks.

2 years.

2 Years since the accident.

2 years since Max has been gone.

The scenery flew by as we drove down the road. The song on the radio playing as Max pretended to air drum as he tapped along on the steering wheel. His smile infectious as we sang and danced to “This is the day” by: The The

(when I think back on it now… how ironic that this is the song that was playing… because this is the day my world got flipped upside down in an instant)

I laugh as Max sings loudly as he looks over at me as he takes his sunglasses off.

“You ready for this weekend?”

“Beyond ready… you and me… good music… friends… and going back to the place we met… how could I not be ready”

Max smiled as he looked back to the road

“Still the greatest day of my life, you know that? Who would have thought that day would have led to us being together for the last 5 years?”

I smile as I look out at the world passing us by

“Oh I knew right away… love at first sight baby”

Max let out a laugh and a smile as he looked over at me. He knew that was true for the both of us. The second we met each other it was like… like suddenly my life went from black and white to full of color in an instant. From that moment on Max brought so much color into my life. It was beautiful. The life we had together was beautiful.

“While these 5 years have been great… I hope you know I expect forever with you”

“Forever with you sounds like heaven”

The sound of the music was taken over by the sound of screeching tires, shattering glass and then my world went black.

I opened my eyes as the harsh white light of the room I was in bombarded my blurry eyes. Various beeping sounds filled the air as I took a breath and looked around. My eyes landed on my mom. She quickly looks up and lets out a sigh as she grabs my hand. My father stood behind her. I could make out the dark blue of his Naval Uniform. My throat felt drier than a desert as I manage to speak

“Wh..what happened?”

My mother grabs my hand as she looks at me and brushes some of my hair out of my face.

“You were in a car accident sweetie.. you’ve been in a medically induced coma for the last week”

I lay there silently as I blink my eyes. An accident. I try to remember what happened. All I remember is smiling at Max and then nothing.

“Is Max okay?”

My mother turns her head to look back at my father before looking back at me as her grip on my hand tightens.

“honey… Max didn’t survive.. the doctors said he died on impact”

Those are two words that should never be in a sentence together. ‘Max’ and ‘Died’.

Those two words… are the words that drained all the color from my world.

The sound of my phone ringing pulls me back to reality as I wipe the tears from my eyes and glance at the screen. My mothers name is displayed. She’s tried calling twice now. I take a deep breath as I try to sound as normal as possible.

“hi mom…. I’m fine… I’m actually about to head out the door to go to work… Can I call you back later today?... perfect… love you too… bye”

Gizmo shuffles up the bed and lays right next to me as he lets out a soft whine. I put my arm around him as I lay there in bed.

“I know Giz.. I know…”

In reality, I didn’t go to work today. I didn’t move from our bed. I laid there until I had no choice but to get up and try to function like a somewhat normal human being for the rest of the afternoon. My phone kept dinging and dinging. Natasha called and texted. Max’s mom even called… but I eventually just shut it off. I know people think that checking in is what I need today… but in reality what I need is for Max to still be here but we all know that isn’t going to happen.

I find myself sitting in that same damn chair, staring at that same stain on the carpet. A few moments later I hear the same question as always

“How are you doing today Ella?”

I sit there and stare at Darla as she grabs her notebook and pen. The same lie coming out of my mouth.

“I’m doing okay”

She gives me a brief smile as she speaks again

“Today’s a big milestone. It’s been 2 years since the accident”

Milestone. I thought milestones were used to measure happy times. Like a baby walking for the first time. Their 1st birthday. Each year they live… another milestone….. but here we are labeling the years without Max as milestones…

“I know. Still feels like it was yesterday though…”

“2 years is still relatively fresh for a loss like you endured Ella”

I sigh as I look out the window of her office like I usually do watching the rain fall from the sky

“I just… I didn’t think I would still be feeling this deeply after 2 years… It’s making me feel like I’m incapable of moving on”

“You are capable Ella. Progress doesn’t always follow a linear path. It’s okay to still be struggling after 2 years.”

I sigh as I pull my legs up onto the couch as I turn my gaze back onto her

“I feel like I’ve been having more good days than bad… but… I just didn’t think it would hurt this badly to miss him”

Darla’s voice comes out soft as she looks at me

“It’s normal to have good days and bad days. It’s part of the healing process. Loss is never easy, and it’s okay to miss him. It shows that you cared. It shows that the love you two shared was real.”

I sigh as I start picking at the edge of my flannel trying to keep my emotions at bay.

“I know it was real… I just… I don’t know if I subconsciously keep taking 5 steps back in my progress because I’m scared that if I do make progress… it will make it feel less real? That I’ll begin to forget him? That I’ll stop remembering him”

Darla nods as she writes something down in her notebook.

“It’s natural to hold onto the memories and feelings of a loved one that’s passed. But it’s important to remember that moving forward and making progress in your healing doesn’t mean forgetting or erasing the memories. It means honoring his memory and allowing yourself to find peace and happiness in the future.”

“That’s the thing… he was supposed to be my happiness.. my future and now I….”

I look back out the window

“I know, and it’s a devastating loss. But you have to allow yourself to imagine a future without him. You deserve happiness, and he would want you to find peace and joy even without him.”

“I feel like he wouldn’t… I feel like.. I don’t know.. if I find happiness that I’m trying to replace him…”

Darla tilts her head at my response as she continues to pry into my thoughts

“And why do you feel that way?”

“I feel like everything was black and white before… and then Max came along and..”

I cut myself off as I take a deep breath and focus on the rain falling down the window

“and then? Can you tell me more about what happened when Max came along?”

My voice shakes as I feel the lump in my throat form and the tears trying to well up into my eyes

“he… he gave my life color and now I feel like everything’s back to black and white since he died”

“I understand. It’s natural to feel like life has lost its color after such a significant loss. But it’s important to remember that there are still beautiful colors out there waiting for you. Colors that Max would want you to see”

My voice comes out in a shaky whisper

“It’s not going to be the same though”

“No, it won't be the same. Nothing can replace what you had with Max. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t still beauty and happiness out there waiting for you. It doesn’t mean you can’t find new colors in your life even if they are different”

I sit there in silence. I know there’s other colors out there but I don’t want other colors. I only want the colors that Max brought into my life. The lump in my throat grows as I try to keep my tears down

“I had the thought again… of why him and not me… it’s been awhile since I’ve had it”

Darla looks at me as her attention to me piques momentarily

“That thought is common for people grieving a loss. It’s a reflection of the pain and unfairness you’re feeling. I’m glad though that you recognize that you haven’t had that thought in awhile. That shows progress Ella”

“It does?”

A small smile forms on Darla’s face as she looks at me

“Yes it does! The fact that you haven’t thought about it in awhile means that you’re gradually moving forward in your healing process. It shows that you’re slowly letting go of some of the pain and anger associated with the thought. It’s a sign of growth and resilience.”

“It doesn't feel like it.. I feel I’m going to be stuck as the girl who can’t get over her dead boyfriend…”

Darla’s expression softens as her voice softens

“No, that’s not true. You’re not ‘just’ anything. You’re an incredible person who is going through a very difficult time. Two years is still fairly recent in the grieving process, especially for something as significant as a boyfriend, let alone a boyfriend who you spent 5 years of your life with. It’s okay to still be healing, and it’s okay to still be feeling the pain. That doesn’t make you ‘unable to get over him.’ It makes you human. And you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for Ella.”

I sit there in silence as I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I feel the tears begin to well up and fall down my cheeks. Darla sits there quietly for a few moments before speaking up again.

“Take a few deep breaths Ella. Allow yourself the space to feel the emotions that are coming up. You’re doing an incredible job working through this.”

“I just with it didn’t hurt this much to miss him”

“I know. Missing someone you love is one of the hardest things to go through. And the pain can feel unbearable at times. But it’s a testament to the depth of your love and the beautiful connection you shared with Max. It means he was worth every tear and every moment of hurt”

I quickly wipe the tears from my face

“Yeah.. worth every moment”

Darla shifts in her seat as she leans in a little closer to me

“Alright, let’s shift gears a little. Can you tell me a happy memory you have of Max?”

A soft smile forms on my lips despite the tears falling from my eyes

“There’s so many”

“That’s wonderful to hear. Can you share one that stands out a little more than the others?”

I sit there as I shuffle through the countless memories in my head that I have of Max and I before settling on one.

“My birthday 4 years ago… Max decided to get up early and make me my favorite breakfast…..

I rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty which was unusual. Max never woke up before me. I pull the covers back as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. A faint smile appears on my face as I can hear the soft sound of a record playing downstairs. I walked out of the room and stopped at the top of the steps.

“Max-a-million”

“Kitchen my love”

I quickly made my way down the stairs leaning on the doorframe to the kitchen as I watched him pour pancake batter into a hot pan, towel slung over his shoulder. His soft hums fill the kitchen along with the music. He turned his head and greeted me with his million-dollar smile

“one special birthday breakfast coming up for the love of my life”

I smile as I slowly make my way across the kitchen to him as he smiles and wraps his arms around me pulling me into a soft hug placing a kiss to my lips and telling me ‘I love you madly’ before taking my hand and twirling me away from him as he started dancing to the song playing on the record player. Smiles and laughter filled the kitchen as we danced and he sang into the spatula. We were so wrapped up in the moment and each other we both failed to realize that the pancakes in the pan started burning. The homemade breakfast was a bust after that and we ended up going to our favorite café on the beach instead.

“But it turned into us dancing and singing in the kitchen which resulted in him burning the pancakes because we were just so caught up in the moment together. It’s like I can hear his laugh and how he’d always say he loves me madly”

Darla’s smile widens as she listens to me talk about a memory of Max.

“That sounds like a beautiful memory. The carefree laughter, the dance, the love, the burned pancakes. It’s those little moments, those mundane yet special moments, that make us fall in love and feel truly happy isn’t it?”

“He made it so easy to fall in love with him more and more each day”

“That’s what makes the loss of someone we love so difficult. That daily dose of happiness and love suddenly disappears, leaving a void that feels unbearable at times. But it also speaks to the strength of your love – a love that was deep, intense and beautiful. It must have been incredible to experience that kind of connection with Max.”

“Those 5 years were the most incredible years of my life… and it was because of him”

“It sounds like you two had something truly special. To have a relationship that brought you so much happiness and fulfilled you in every way is a rare find. It speaks to the depth of his love for you, and yours for him. Do you think anything will ever compare?”

I look down at my hands as I whisper out my response as I feel my emotions bubbling up again.

“no”

Darla sets her notebook down and leans forward in her chair

“I’m going to ask you something, and you don’t have to answer  if you don’t feel ready. But I want to explore this topic a little further. When you say nothing will ever compare, how does that make you feel?”

I take a deep breath as I try to think of a word to describe how I feel

“Devastated I guess”

“It’s understandable to feel devastated by the thought that no one will ever compare to Max. It’s a painful realization to come to terms with. Can I ask you another question?”

“Sure”

“Sometimes, in the wake of a significant loss, we can develop what is known as ‘catastrophic thinking’. It’s when we start to think in black and white, all or nothing terms. Have you ever found yourself thinking that you’ll never find love like you did with Max again?”

“Yes.. all the time” I wipe a tear from my cheek as I look at Darla. Of course I think that. How could I ever find someone to love me like Max did. Why would I want to find someone new. Max was my once in a lifetime love.

“It's a normal part of the grieving process to have these fears and doubts. It’s the mind’s way of trying to protect itself from further pain. But it can be a limiting belief that can keep us from fully healing and moving forward. Can I share something with you?”

“Of course”

“When we say things like ‘nobody will ever compare to Max’ or ‘I’ll never love like this again,’ we are not only limiting our own future but also, in a small way, limiting Max’s memory. Love isn’t stagnant, it’s fluid, and it can change and grow in unexpected ways. Do you think Max would want you to live the rest of your life alone thinking nobody will ever measure up?”

“No… he’d probably tell me to find someone who puts color into my world like he did”

I look up at Darla as she smiles at my answer

“That’s exactly right. He’d want you to find joy and love again. We often think about honoring the dead through rituals or momentos, but true honor comes in living a life that they’d be proud of. Do you think he’d be proud of you if you spend the rest of your life closed off to the possibility of loving and being loved again?”

“No… he wouldn’t”

“Exactly. By keeping yourself trapped in a black and white perspective, you're not allowing yourself the chance to experience the fullness of life again. The ‘color’ metaphor you used before is very relevant here. Max gave your life color. Maybe it’s time for you to let other colors back in. It doesn’t mean replacing Max or forgetting him. It means making room in your heart for new experiences and new love”

“But I feel like I’m not ready for ‘new color’ in my life”

“That’s completely understandable Ella. You’ve been through a significant loss, and it’s okay to feel like you’re not ready yet. Grieving takes time and it’s different for everyone. But remember, the point isn’t to replace or move on from Max. It’s about allowing your heart to expand. Maybe instead of looking at it as ‘new color’, think of it as ‘additional color.’ It doesn’t erase or diminish what you had with Max. It just adds to the beautiful palette of your life.”

I look back out the window at the gray sky swirling as the rain stops falling as I mumble,

“Additional Color…”

“Yes, additional color. It’s like adding a new shade to a painting without changing the original picture. That way, you’re not replacing Max or what you had, but you’re expanding on it. It’s about having space in your heart for new love and new experiences that are just as beautiful and worthwhile, even if they might not bring the same exact feeling or color that Max did. Does that make sense?”

“So essentially I’m just adding onto the colors Max has already given me”

“Exactly Ella. You’re not replacing or erasing Max’s colors from your heart. You’re not removing anything. You’re just adding more colors, potentially even brighter and richer than what you had before. It’s not about forgetting or moving on, but expanding your capacity to love and experience life fully, just as Max would want you to”

“That makes sense…”

Darla leans back into her chair before picking her notebook backup and writing a few things down

“So, it’s not a case of ‘nobody will ever compare to Max.’ Rather, it’s a case of ‘nobody will ever bring the exact same color as Max, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other beautiful colors out there that can add to my life in a different, but equally meaningful way.’ Can you see how that perspective might help ease the catastrophic thinking pattern you have?”

I nod my head as I see Darla glance at the clock before looking back at me.

“That’s wonderful. It’s important to remember that the purpose of therapy is growth, not just fixing things. And by challenging your catastrophic thinking, you’re showing a lot of strength. Can I give you some homework for the next time we meet?”

I nod my head yes as I put my feet back down onto the floor from the couch as Darla looks at me

“I’d like you to keep a journal between now and our next session. Every day, I want you to write down something beautiful, something that brings a bit of joy or color into your day. It could be a simple moment, like a bird singing outside your window, or something more significant, it doesn’t matter. The point is to practice focusing on the beauty and positives in life. Can you do that?

“I can do that”

“Excellent. I believe it will help you slowly start shifting your mindset towards a more positive and hopeful future. Is there anything else you like to talk about before we end our session today?”

“Not that I can think of… I think I’ve had enough for today…”

Darla puts her notebook back down before sliding forward in her chair and placing her hand on my knee in a comforting way

“That’s completely understandable. It can be overwhelming to go through these heavy topics, and it’s important to know when to take a break. I’m proud of you for being open and honest today Ella. Start that journal exercise and I will see you in a few weeks”

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. My phone dinging on the bedside table drawing me out from my thoughts. I see a text from Natasha

-Hey, I hope today was okay for you. You never called back and I understand but know I’m here if you need me… You’re coming out with me Saturday night. No excuses…

-okay

I felt bad for ignoring her all day but if anyone understands that I just want to be alone it’s Natasha. I lay there thinking about my therapy session today and her suggestion on letting ‘additional color’ into my life. It’s going to be damn near impossible to find any kind of color remotely close to the colors Max gave me… or so I thought… 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Chapter 3 coming!

Jake makes his appearance in the next chapter!!!

If you want to be added to the tag list shoot me a message!

[enemiestolovershoe]

hii!! Do you think you write a kook!reader(but basically a pogue) x jj , where reader and jj are secretly dating but reader wants to meet the rest of the pogues, jj’s not ready so they have a slight argument about that during midsummers and that scene when jj runs away and calls the pogues to go to the bonfire place (don’t remeber what’s its called), he ‘forgets’ to call the reader aswell, making her end up feeling sad and after that finally they talk about their relationship and reader meets the pogues… sorry if this is random.. i just thought about it

Crossed Tides

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: JJ and Kook!Reader argue when she wants to meet his friends.

Words: 1,5k

Warnings: not proofread, rushed

A/N: I know this is rushed but I just can‘t bring myself to write properly about JJ. I‘m fucking grieving about a fictional character. So if this sucks I‘m so fucking sorry :(

The Midsummers gala was in full swing. Guests glided across the lawn in a sea of pristine whites and blues, sipping drinks and laughing beneath strings of fairy lights. But you stood on the edge of it all, nervously twisting the hem of your dress between your fingers, watching the crowd for one familiar face: JJ.

He’d been distant tonight, showing up late and barely saying two words to you. You’d been secretly dating for months, always meeting at the docks or hidden stretches of beach, anywhere away from the sharp gaze of both the Kooks and the Pogues. But tonight, that distance felt different, like there was something he wasn’t telling you.

You spotted him at the bar, leaning back with his arms crossed, his gaze scanning the crowd as he downed a drink. Taking a deep breath, you walked over, determined to get some answers.

“JJ,” you said, softly but firmly as you placed a hand on his arm. He flinched slightly, then turned to look at you, his usual mischievous smile nowhere to be found.

“Oh, hey.” His voice was clipped, and he looked over your shoulder, as if already searching for a way out.

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice quiet but unwavering. “Really talk?”

He sighed, setting his glass down and rubbing the back of his neck. “About what?”

“About us,” you replied. “I want to meet your friends, JJ. I want to be part of that part of your life. We’ve been sneaking around for months now, and I feel like… I don’t know, like I’m just some secret you’re embarrassed about.”

JJ’s face fell, but his jaw tightened defensively. “It’s not about being embarrassed.”

“Then what’s it about?” You kept your gaze steady, even though your heart was pounding. “I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with just these hidden moments. I want to meet the people who matter to you. I want to know them, and I want them to know me.”

JJ’s eyes darkened, his frustration evident as he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just… complicated, alright?”

“How is it complicated, JJ?” you asked, your voice softening. “I know you. I know that you’re not just some Pogue or some label. I don’t care about any of that Kook-Pogue division. I’m here because I care about you.”

He looked down, his fingers fiddling with his bracelet. “They wouldn’t understand.”

“Why not? Because I’m a Kook?” you pressed, hurt creeping into your tone. “JJ, you know that’s just a label to me. I’m not… I’m not one of them. I’m not my family.”

JJ’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his defenses cracking for just a moment. But then, just as quickly, he pulled back again, a hard edge in his voice. “It’s not about you. It’s about them. They’re my family. They’re the only real family I’ve got, and I don’t want anything messing that up.”

Your chest tightened at his words, a mixture of sadness and frustration bubbling up. “So I’d just… mess things up? That’s what you’re saying?”

He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, clearly struggling to put his feelings into words. Before he could say anything else, someone brushed past you, nearly spilling a drink on your dress, breaking the tension.

JJ took a step back, running a hand through his hair again. “I… I just need some air, alright?”

Before you could respond, he turned and walked off, disappearing into the crowd.

Hours passed, and the night grew quieter. The gala began to wind down, and you found yourself waiting on the steps, watching each group of guests leave, hoping JJ might come back. You checked your phone repeatedly, but there was no word from him.

You tried not to let it hurt. He was probably with his friends now, probably didn’t even think to call you. But deep down, you knew you couldn’t just keep ignoring this. Something had to change.

Meanwhile, JJ had wandered off, his feet taking him almost automatically to the Boneyard. The familiar glow of the bonfire greeted him, and he felt his shoulders relax a little as he spotted John B., Pope, and Kiara laughing together. Here, with them, he didn’t have to think about labels or boundaries; he was just himself, just JJ.

“Yo, JJ!” John B. called, waving him over. “What are you doing here, man? I thought you were busy with all those rich people tonight.”

JJ forced a grin as he joined them. “Yeah, needed a break from all that. Figured you guys were a little more my style.

Pope raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? That why you’ve been disappearing on us every other night?”

JJ chuckled, trying to play it off. “You know me, man, always got something going on.”

Kiara gave him a knowing look. “Or someone?”

JJ’s grin faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, shrugging it off. “Maybe, maybe not.”

But as the night wore on and the fire began to die down, his mind kept drifting back to you. To the hurt in your eyes when he’d brushed you off, the way you’d tried so hard to be understanding. Guilt twisted in his chest, and he knew he couldn’t keep hiding this forever.

He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over your name in his contacts, but something held him back. What if they didn’t get it? What if his worlds just couldn’t mix?

He ended up putting his phone away without calling you.

The next morning, you decided you couldn’t wait any longer. You went down to the docks, hoping you’d catch him there. The salty air was cool against your skin as you waited, watching the horizon until you finally saw him approach.

JJ looked surprised to see you, hesitating before stepping closer, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and uncertain.

“Hey,” you replied, studying his face. You could see the shadows under his eyes, the way he looked like he hadn’t slept much. “We need to talk.”

He nodded, glancing down. “I know.”

You took a deep breath. “JJ, I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being just this… secret. I want more than stolen moments. I want to be part of your life, all of it.”

He swallowed, looking away. “I get it. And… you’re right. You deserve more than that.”

“Then why won’t you let me in?” you asked, voice soft but steady. “What are you so afraid of?”

JJ hesitated, then looked up, his eyes finally meeting yours. “I’m afraid of losing them. They’re everything to me. I don’t want to do anything to mess that up. And… I don’t want to lose you, either.”

You softened, reaching out to take his hand. “JJ, you won’t lose them. And you won’t lose me. You don’t have to choose.”

He held your gaze, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he seemed to weigh his options. After a long moment, he sighed, a small, resigned smile tugging at his lips.

“Alright,” he said finally. “Let’s go meet the Pogues.”

Later that day, you and JJ headed down to the Cut, where John B., Pope, and Kiara were lounging on the HMS Pogue. As JJ led you over, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves, but his hand was warm in yours, steadying you.

John B. noticed you first, his eyebrows shooting up as he looked between you and JJ. “Whoa, JJ, you brought a guest?”

JJ cleared his throat, squeezing your hand. “Uh… everyone, this is (Y/N).”

Kiara raised an eyebrow, smirking. “So, this is the girl you’ve been sneaking off with.”

You blushed, but her smile was genuine, and she waved you over. “Come on, there’s plenty of room.”

Pope grinned, offering you a seat beside him, and John B. patted the edge of the boat. “Welcome to the crew,” he said, shooting you a wink.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the weight on your heart finally lift as you took your place among the Pogues, hand in hand with JJ. And for the first time, you felt like you truly belonged by his side.

[lehnsherrrr]

Mitski + Cherik

I have a playlist of every single Mitski song ever made playing constantly 24 hours of my day for the past 2 years, I also went to see her live. I’ll be damned if I don’t make this post. (Also this has been in the drafts for like 3 weeks now)

So, at first, I was listening to Mitski and was like whoah the song “old friend” is perfect for cherik. And then the song “Eric” came on and I was dumbfounded, so here’s an explanation of lyrics and how they apply to Cherik.

Also I suck at making edits so this is technically the same thing but using your imagination instead.

“We nearly drowned for such a silly thing”

Charles diving into the ocean to save Erik. But this could also mean drowning in their decisions, they almost lost each other because of their beliefs. Such a silly thing to loose each other over.

“Someone who loves me now better than you”

This line makes me believe this song is from Erik’s perspective, either talking about Charles, or Magda. However I like the idea that it’s Charles he talks about since it’s the very start of the song. It might even be implied that “better than you” is implying Shaw.

“And that pretty friend is finally yours”

100% talking about Moira, boy is bitter. All of this so far is talking from the future looking on the past, so that previous line may be talking about Magda after all.

“I’ll be around on Sunday, if you’ll meet me at the blue diner, I’ll take coffee and talk about nothing baby”

Erik meeting Charles at the end of Dark Pheonix. Isn’t it nice to talk about nothing for once, instead of arguing about mutant rights or trying to save the world. They can finally relax together and just be people.

“At the blue diner, I’ll take anything you wanna give me, baby”

Switch to Charles perspective. Agreeing to stay with Erik.

This song is short but wonderful, I’ve only focused on the first half of the song because it fits far too well. The other part fits too but this was too specific.

The way it starts with how they met, then when they left eachother for other people, and then ending with them rejoining. Perfect few lyrics almost like they were made just for them.

And to top it all off, it’s called Old Friend. Thats CRAZY.

“Sorry I can’t take your touch”

Erik leaving at the end of pretty much every movie, the touch being Charles love and want for him to stay with the xmen, with him.

“It’s just that I fell in love with a war”

Erik’s constant belief that there’s a war coming and he needs to fight it first. He chooses this again and again over Charles, one could say he loves it more than he loves Charles.

“Nobody told me it ended”

Still fighting for the war he believes in, even though Charles has been working so hard for mutant rights and has done a lot of good work.

“And it left a pearl in my head, and I roll it around every night, just to watch it glow. Every night baby that’s where I go.”

That anger and sadness that stays within him, stuck in his brain, part of him. Memories of Charles, hating him, loving him. He sits with it every night, going over everything again and again. Also visual of Erik floating them little metal balls.

Beautiful song, good lord. This is all about Erik choosing the war over Charles, there’s also something about the imagery of sitting with a ‘pearl’ in his mind is so very Erik.

“But how long, how long can we play this way?”

Playing as in going back and forth, fighting, making up, fighting again. This is definitely from Charles perspective.

“I’m tired, I’m tired of not loving you”

Charles is tired of not being able to show Erik how much he loves him, he just wants him home.

“My heart, my heart wants to hold you”

All he wants to do it is be with Erik, he wants to comfort him again and show him he’s not evil, that there’s good in there too.

“But I know, I know, I know the rules”

But he knows the rules of this game, he knows they couldn’t ever be together. Be it their opposing beliefs, homophobia, or just the way they are. Perhaps also the rules as in the movie won’t allow it, their writing won’t allow it.

Painful. Other lyrics in the song are more sexual, which also fits if you’d like it to. First line of the song is “you like control, well I do to” and that would be a killer title for a dark cherik fic. They both control their environment in different ways.

“One word from you and I would jump off of this ledge I’m on, baby”

Charles telepathy, could be from any of the students, especially those from the first movie who later died. However it’s painful to think that it’s Erik saying “You’re a telepath Charles, you can convince me of anything.”

Also on that note, the ledge could also refer to delving deeper into his dark side, it would take one mean word from Charles and he’d get so much worse.

Or perhaps he means the ledge in which he’s raised himself to as a super villain, and he knows Charles could bring him down from it.

“Tell me don’t so I can crawl back in”

See my other post about Erik subtly begging Charles to control him. He knows he’ll always pick his cause over staying with Charles, he wants Charles to force him to stay. Get rid of his option to choose so he can crawl back to comfort. Be gone with his righteousness, and just be simple and safe with him.

The title of the song being First Love/Late Spring hurts me. Was mitski an xmen fan or what Jesus.

Left this one until last cause I don’t want to teach a grandma to suck eggs here, I’m sure you already know what’s about to go down. Nonetheless, it would be criminal for me to leave it out. Ready for some Charles angst? Too bad!

“Baby, my baby,”

Raven, Angel, Darwin, Banshee, Havok, adopted into the xmen with nowhere else to go but return to their unfortunate lives.

“Tell your baby that I’m your baby”

The first xmen looking on to the current, looking at who Charles ‘replaced’ them with.

“I bet on loosing dogs”

Charles putting his trust into those first kids, knowing they were young, but it was the last hope. He better is all on them.

“I know they’re loosing and pay for my place by the ring”

He knows they couldn’t stand a chance, but there was that hope. Perhaps if he trained them, gave them the right motivation, they could survive.

“Where I’ll be looking in their eyes when they’re down”

He’s with them the whole way, in their minds, in their spirits. These kids had fight in them, but they were still kids.

“I’ll be there on their side, I’m loosing by their side.”

When they loose, he looses with them. The xmens fate stands on the strength of those kids. Charles grief over loosing these kids makes him catatonic, wishing he had died instead. He was with them all the way, and yet he still hears “Where were you Charles” “You abandoned all of us”

[hobisexually]

long winded rant in the tags coming that’s partly about weight but in a very unfiltered sad way so if that triggers you do Not read on

[sleepdeprivationandcoffee]

If any of you plan on having kids, please for your sake please have a good support system. I mean people who will take kiddo for a few hours so you can sleep/clean/relax without stressing, people who will help with chores and help pick up the slack when you start feeling worn thin, and people who will encourage and remind you that you’re doing great. It’s so so so hard when you can’t get the help you need.

Future parents, please do this for yourself. Please ask for help and build yourself a safety net of people you trust to care for you like you would care for them.

[tobuo]

i wanna go on a date this year but dating apps are so humiliating and also Very Straight in my area so lmaooooooo rip

[bootyful-seventeen]

Got called mopy and moody and an overall killjoy for not enjoying the one (1) party experience I had in February of last year cuz I kept getting left alone at a party so I just sat and had nachos 🤙🏻🤙🏻🤙🏻

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

i hate going “hey i might not be up to hanging out im just not doing well mentally” but also i know if im either constantly panicking or completely out of it while we’re hanging out then it won’t go well

[friedroses]

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